the bed and the dress of the girl-friend bending over her. The
nurse standing by the doctor is a figure of the same gray-white as the
bed. Within the pattern of the velvety-blacks there are as many subtle
gradations as in the pattern of the gray-whites. The tableau is a
satisfying scheme in black and gray, with practically one non-obtrusive
texture throughout.

Here is a picture of an Englishman and his wife, in India. It might be
called sculptural, but for the magnificence of the turban of the rajah
who converses with them, the glitter of the light round his shoulders,
and the scheme of shadow out of which the three figures rise. The
arrangement remotely reminds one of several of Rembrandt's semi-oriental
musings.

Here is a picture of Mary Pickford as Fanchon the Cricket. She is in the
cottage with the strange old mother. I have seen a painting in this mood
by the Greek Nickolas Gysis.

The Intimate-and-friendly Moving Picture, the photoplay of
painting-in-motion, need not be indoors as long as it has the
native-heath mood. It is generally keyed to the hearthstone, and keeps
quite close to it. But how well I remember when the first French
photoplays began to come. Though unintelligent in some respects, the
photography and subject-matter of many of them made one think of that
painter of gentle out-of-door scenes, Jean Charles Cazin. Here is our
last clipping, which is also in a spirit allied to Cazin. The heroine,
accompanied by an aged shepherd and his dog, are in the foreground. The
sheep are in the middle distance on the edge of the river. There is a
noble hill beyond the gently flowing water. Here is intimacy and
friendliness in the midst of the big out of doors.

If these five photo-paintings were on good paper enlarged to twenty by
twenty-four inches, they would do to frame and hang on the wall of any
study, for a month or so. And after the relentless test of time, I would
venture that some one of the five would prove a permanent addition to the
household gods.

Hastily made photographs selected from the films are often put in front
of the better theatres to advertise the show. Of late they are making
them two by three feet and sometimes several times larger. Here is a
commercial beginning of an art gallery, but not enough pains are taken to
give the selections a complete art gallery dignity. Why not have the most
beautiful scenes in front of the theatres, instead of those alleged to be
the most thrilling?