The Moving Picture Girls in War Plays
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Laura Lee Hope >> The Moving Picture Girls in War Plays
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"Nobody said you did!" laughed Lieutenant Varley with a bow to Ruth and
Alice in the carriage. "But why did you drive them in here to spoil the
picture?"
"I didn't know nothin' about no picture--honest I didn't! I took this
road because it was shorter. Don't shoot pap's cow-critters. I'll take
'em away."
"Well, that's all we want you to do," said Mr. Pertell, coming up with a
grim smile. "You nearly got yourself and your cow-critters in trouble,
my boy. Drive 'em back now, and we'll go on with the film. Did any of
'em get in, Russ?" he asked.
"Just a few, on the last inch or so of the reel. I can cut that out and
go on from there. Hold the carriage where it is, Ruth," he called.
"All right," she answered, for she had now quieted the restive horses.
"Don't be afraid, boy," said Alice to the lad. "You won't be hurt."
"And won't they hurt pap's cow-critters, neither?"
"No, indeed. It was all a mistake."
"I--I didn't know there was no war goin' on," remarked the lad, as he
sent an intelligent dog he had with him after the straying animals. "Me
an' pap we lives away over yonder on t'other side of the mountain. An'
we don't never hear no news. I was plum skeered when I seen all them
ossifers. Thought sure I was ketched, same as I've heard my grandpap
tell about bein' ketched in the army. He was a soldier with Sherman,
and I've heard him tell about capturin' cow-critters when they was on
the march."
"Well, this would be like old times to him, I suppose," said Mr.
Pertell. "But this is only in fun, my boy--to make motion pictures. So
take your cows away and we'll go on with the work. Drive 'em on," and
the boy did so with a curious, backward look at the girls in the
carriage, and at the Union soldiers, who were going back to their places
to get ready anew for the skirmish charge.
"And this time we'll have it without cows," said Mr. Pertell. "They
might go all right in a film of Sherman's march, but not in this
skirmish fight. All ready now. Take your places again."
The preliminary advance of the carriage, containing Ruth and Alice had
been filmed all right. Very little need be cut out. Once the cows were
beyond the camera range, Russ again began grinding away at the film.
"Now come on--Union soldiers!" cried the director.
From their waiting place Lieutenant Varley led his men; and as they
swept on past the carriage, Alice and Ruth registering fear, the
Confederates rushed out to meet them.
Then began the skirmish. Guns popped. Horses reared, some throwing their
riders unexpectedly, but this made it all the more realistic. Men
fought hand to hand with swords, using only the flats, of course. Horses
collided one with another, and the animals seemed to enter into the
spirit of the conflict fully as much as did the men. There was a rattle
of rifles, but no cannon were used in this scene.
Russ and his helpers filmed it, and, standing behind them watching the
mimic fight, was the director, shouting orders through his megaphone
and, when he could not make himself heard in this way, using a field
telephone, calling his instructions to helpers stationed out of sight in
the bushes, where they could relay the commands to those taking part in
the skirmish.
"A little livelier now!" yelled Mr. Pertell. "Give way, you Union
fellows, as though you were beaten, and then drive them back to the
fight, Mr. Varley. That's the way!"
The conflict raged and the cameras clicked away. It was all one to the
camera men--a parlor drama or a sanguinary conflict. So long as the
shutter worked perfectly, as long as the focus was correct and the film
ran freely, the camera men were satisfied.
"Now you Confederates pretend to be overwhelmed, and then rally with a
rush and sweep the Unionists out of the thicket!" ordered the director.
This was done, and, all the while, at one side of the picture crouched
Ruth and Alice, as two Southern girls. They had leaped from their
carriage and were waiting the outcome of the conflict, stooping down out
of the way of flying bullets.
This was a side scene in the war play, and did not involve the main
story. Ruth and Alice, as did the other main characters, assumed various
roles at times.
"Come on now! You Unionists are beaten. Retreat!" called the director,
and Lieutenant Varley's men rode off, leaving him and some others
injured on the field of the conflict.
It was here that Alice and Ruth took an active part again. Ruth rushed
up to the fallen lieutenant and felt his pulse. No sooner had she done
so than the director cried:
"Stop the camera! That won't do, Miss DeVere!"
"Why not?" she asked.
"Because you felt his pulse with your thumb. No nurse would do that. The
pulse in the thumb itself is too strong to allow any one to feel the
pulse in another's wrist. Use the tips of your first and second fingers.
Now try again. Ready, Russ!"
This time Ruth did it right. It was characteristic of Mr. Pertell to
notice a little detail like that.
"Not one person in a hundred would object to the pulse being felt with
the thumb," he explained afterward; "but the hundredth person in the
audience would be a doctor, and he'd know right away that the director
was at fault. It is the little things that count."
Ruth and Alice busied themselves ministering to the wounded who were
made prisoners by the Confederates. The lieutenant was put in their
carriage and driven away. That ended the scene at the place of the
skirmish.
"Very well done!" Mr. Pertell told the girls, as they prepared for the
next act, which was in a room of a Southern house, whither the wounded
had been carried.
These were busy days at Oak Farm. With the arrival of the two regiments
of the National Guard, pictures were taken every day, leading up to the
big battle scene, which had been postponed. When they were not posing
for the cameras, the guardsmen were drilling in accordance with the
regulations of the annual state encampment under the direction of the
regular army officers.
"Well, have you quite recovered from your wounds?" asked Alice of
Lieutenant Varley one day, as she met him outside the farmhouse.
"Oh, yes, thanks to the care of your sister and yourself. By the way, I
hope your friend Miss Brown is not angry with me."
"Why should she be?"
"Well, because I thought I had seen her before."
"I don't believe she is. I haven't heard her say. But here she comes
now. You can ask her," and Estelle came around the turn of the path.
Seeing Alice talking with the lieutenant, she hesitated, but Alice
called:
"Come on--we were just speaking about you."
"I wondered why my ears burned," laughed Estelle.
"Perhaps you two are going somewhere," said the officer, preparing to
take his leave.
"Oh, to no place where you are not welcome," answered Alice, graciously,
with a side look at her companion to see if Estelle objected. But the
latter gave no sign, one way or the other.
"Thank you!" exclaimed the guardsman. "I have to take part in a little
scene in about an hour, but I would enjoy a walk in the meanwhile. You
are both made up, I see?"
"Yes, we are Southern belles to-day," laughed Alice.
"Belles every day," returned the lieutenant with a bow.
"Nicely said!" laughed Estelle. "You are improving!"
She and Alice wore the costumes of generations ago, big bonnets and
hoopskirts.
"Let's go over and see what they're filming there," suggested Alice,
pointing to where a crossroads store had been put up.
The scene at the store was one to represent a dispute among some
Southerners and some Northern sympathizers. It was to end in a fight in
which one man was to draw his revolver.
All went well up to the quarrel, and then it became too realistic, for,
by some chance, there was a bullet in the revolver instead of a blank
cartridge, and it entered the leg of one of the disputants. He fell and
bled profusely.
"Get Dr. Wherry!" yelled Mr. Pertell.
"Dr. Wherry went into the village this morning to get some stuff," Russ
said, "and he hasn't come back yet."
"Then somebody will have to go after him!" cried the director.
"I'll go!" offered Alice. "I can take this horse and carriage!" for a
rig was hitched outside the "store."
"I'll go with you!" cried Estelle, and then, in costume and made up for
the pictures as they were, they got into the vehicle and drove off.
CHAPTER XIV
IN THE SMOKE
"Do you think he'll die?" asked Estelle, as she took the reins and
flicked the horse lightly with the whip.
"I hope not," answered Alice.
"Did it make you faint to see the blood?"
"A little. Did it you?"
"Yes. I can't bear it! It makes me---- Oh, it makes me----"
Estelle closed her eyes, and Alice was surprised to see her turn pale,
even under her rouge, and shudder.
"That's queer," Alice said. "I should have thought, being on a ranch as
you were, you might have become used to accidents and scenes of
violence."
"Who said I was on a ranch?"
"Why, you did!"
"I did?"
"Yes; don't you remember? That day when we were talking about branding
cows----"
"Oh, maybe I did. I'd forgotten. Oh, dear! here comes an auto, and I'm
not sure about this horse. I'm afraid he'll start to rear."
At this intimation that there might be trouble, Alice's face took on a
worried look, and she fore-bore to press the questions she had been
asking Estelle.
The horse showed some signs of fear as he passed the automobile in the
road, but the man driving the car was considerate enough to stop his
machine and motion to the girls to pass. They did so, the horse getting
as far to one side of the road as he could, his nostrils distended and
his ears pricked forward.
"There! Thank goodness that's over!" sighed Estelle. "Now to make speed
and get that doctor. I hope the man doesn't die."
"I do too," acquiesced Alice. "Did you see how sharply the man looked at
us?"
"Who, the man that was shot?"
"No, the one in the auto. He stared and stared!"
"Probably he wondered where in the world we got a horse in these days
that was afraid of an auto. I wonder myself where this steed has been in
hiding. There are so many cars now that it is a wonder horses aren't
using gasoline as perfume."
"No, he wasn't looking at the horse," persisted Alice. "He was looking
at us. Perhaps he knew you, Estelle."
"Why do you say that? I'm sure I never saw him before. Maybe it was you
he was staring at."
"No, it was you he was staring at, but I don't blame him. You are very
striking looking to-day."
"It's this dress. Isn't it quaint?"
"And pretty! Oh, but we mustn't talk so frivolously when that poor man
may be dying. We must drive faster."
"Talking isn't going to make the horse go any slower. In fact, I think
maybe he'll go quicker to get the trip over with sooner so he can be rid
of our chatter. But I don't think the poor man is badly hurt. He may
bleed a lot, but they can hold that in check until we get the doctor."
They drove on, and were presently in the village. They had been told
where Dr. Wherry had gone--to a drugstore to get some medical
supplies--and thither they made their way.
"Do you notice how every one is staring at us?" asked Alice, as they
drove along the streets.
"They do seem to be," admitted Estelle, looking for the drugstore. "I
guess it's the horse; he is so bony he has many fine points about him,
as Russ said. And we're queer looking in these costumes ourselves."
When they alighted at the pharmacy and started in, they became aware of
the growing sensation they were creating. For a little throng had
gathered in front of the store, and more men and boys came running up,
to form in two lines--a living lane--through which Alice and Estelle had
to pass.
"We certainly are creating a sensation," gasped Alice, growing
embarrassed.
"Look! a regular bridal crowd," said Estelle in a low voice.
Though they undeniably presented a pretty picture in their paint,
powder, curls and hoopskirts, they were also an unusual one for that
little country village.
"Look at the society swells!" cried one boy.
"Dat's de new fashion--makin' your nose look like a flour barrel!" added
another.
"Aren't those dresses sweet?" sighed a girl.
"They must be the latest New York style," added a companion. "I heard
that full skirts were coming in again."
"Well, ours are certainly full enough," murmured Alice, looking down at
her swaying hoops.
And then some one guessed the truth.
"They're actresses--the movie actresses!" came the cry, and this
attracted more attention than ever, for if there is one person about
whom the American public is curious, it is the actor.
"Oh my!" exclaimed Estelle, "now we are in for it. Hurry inside the
store!"
The girls fairly ran into the friendly shelter, and some of the crowd
attempted to follow, but the drug clerks barred the way, guessing what
the excitement was about.
"Dr. Wherry!" gasped Alice. "Is he here?"
"Right back there--in the prescription department," a clerk said. "Which
of you is ill?"
"Neither one!" cried Estelle. "We want him for a man out at Oak Farm.
He's been shot--an accident in the play. Tell him to hurry, please, and
then show us some way of getting out through a side door. I can't face
that crowd--this way," and she looked down at her elaborate hoop-skirted
costume, which might have been all right in the days of sixty-three, but
which was unique at the present time.
"What's the trouble?" asked Dr. Wherry, coming from behind the
ground-glass partition. "Oh, Miss DeVere and Miss Brown!" he went on as
he recognized the moving picture girls. "Is some one hurt?"
They told him quickly what the trouble was, and he cried:
"I'll go at once. You'd better come back with me in the auto if you
don't want to run the gauntlet of the staring crowd. I'll bring my
machine around to the side door."
"What about the horse we drove over?" asked Alice.
"I'll have Mr. Pertell send a man for that."
The girls, in their curiosity-exciting costumes, managed to slip out the
side door and into the doctor's automobile without attracting the
attention of the crowd. Then they made the trip back in good time and
comfort.
"And to think we never for a moment thought of changing our things!"
cried Alice, when they were at Oak Farm again.
"Or even of rubbing off some of the make-up," added Estelle. "But we
were so excited--at least I was--when I saw the poor fellow hurt. I hope
it is not serious."
"No, he's lost a little blood, that's all," said Dr. Wherry. "But I
thought you were used to such scenes, Miss Brown, coming from the West,
as you did."
"I from the West? Oh, yes, I have been there. Come on, Alice, let's see
if they still want us for anything, and, if they don't, we'll change our
clothes," and Estelle seemed glad of a chance to hurry away.
"I wonder," said Alice to her sister afterward, "whether she is really
so squeamish as she pretends, or if she doesn't want it known that she
is from the West?"
"It's hard to say. Estelle is acting more and more queerly every day, I
think."
"So do I. Though I am quite in love with her. She has such a sweet
disposition."
"Yes, she is a lovely girl. I only wish there wasn't that bit of mystery
about her."
"And it is a mystery," went on Alice. "Every once in a while I catch
Lieutenant Varley looking at her, when he thinks he isn't observed, and
he shakes his head as though he could not understand it at all."
"Then you think he still feels sure she is the girl he met in Portland?"
"I'm positive he does, and he isn't doing it to further his own ends and
force an acquaintance with her, either. He honestly believes he has met
her before."
"Well, it is very strange. But she doesn't seem to want to talk about
anything connected with her past."
"No, and I suppose we should not try to force matters."
The man who was shot was soon out of danger, and, meanwhile, the taking
of the war scenes went on with some one else in his place. A number of
sham engagements had been fought, all working up to the big final
battle, in which Ruth would play her part as an army nurse, and Alice
would act as the spy. Estelle, too, had been given a rather important
part, much to the annoyance of Miss Dixon, who had been expecting it.
The vaudeville actress made sneering and cutting remarks about "extra
players butting in," and there were veiled insinuations concerning the
missing ring, but Estelle took no notice, and Alice, Ruth and her other
friends stood loyally by her.
"We'll film that burning barn scene to-day," said Mr. Pertell one
morning at the breakfast table, when he had ascertained that the
atmospheric conditions were right. "That's the one where you two DeVere
girls are surprised on your little farm by the visit of some Union
soldiers. You have been caring for a wounded cousin, who has escaped
through the Union lines, and at the news that the Yankees are coming you
hide him in the barn. Then the Unionists set fire to it, and you girls
have to drag him out.
"There'll be no danger, of course, for the fire won't be near you--in
fact, the barn won't burn at all--only a shack nailed to it. And the
smoke will be from the regular bomb. You have plenty of them, haven't
you, Pop Snooks?"
"Oh yes, plenty of smoke bombs, Mr. Pertell."
All was soon in readiness for the burning-barn scene. Ruth and Alice
received the wounded cousin (an inside scene this) and then, when an old
colored mammie (Mrs. Maguire) came panting with the news that the
Yankees were coming, the wounded Confederate was carried out to the
barn. Then came the visit of the Yankees, who, suspecting the presence
of the escaped prisoner, made diligent search, but without success.
"Fire the barn, anyhow!" cried the captain.
Then came the spirited scene where Ruth and Alice got their wounded
relative out. He was a slim young man, and they could easily carry him,
for he was supposed to be overcome by the smoke.
"Ready, Alice?" asked Ruth, as they went through the action called for
in the script.
"Yes, ready. You take his head and I'll take his heels. Don't be too
stiff," Alice admonished the young man. "We can carry you better if
you're limp."
"I'll be limp enough if I swallow any more of that smoke," choked the
actor. "It's fierce!"
Indeed, Pop Snooks had been very liberal in the matter of smoke bombs.
Great clouds of the black vapor swirled here and there, and Ruth and
Alice had to get free breaths whenever they could.
"Come on!" yelled the director through his megaphone. "Lively!"
Alice and Ruth, half carrying, half dragging, the wounded soldier,
staggered out, Russ clicking away at the camera.
"Good! That's good! It's fine!" exclaimed the enthusiastic director.
Ruth was conscious that she was suddenly dragging more of the weight of
the man's body than at first. But she thought one of Alice's hands had
possibly slipped off, and she did not want to call a halt to get a
better hold.
"My! But this is choking!" gasped Ruth.
Finally, she staggered out into the open, dragging the soldier by his
shoulders. She slumped down on the ground, in a place free from smoke,
and registered exhaustion.
"Where's Alice?" cried Paul, who was holding back in readiness for his
appearance in the scene. "Where's Alice?"
"Isn't she there?" gasped Ruth, rising on her elbow.
"No, she isn't. She must be----"
"Hold that pose, Ruth! Don't stir or you'll spoil the scene!" yelled the
director. "We'll get your sister!"
CHAPTER XV
THE HOSPITAL TENT
"The show must go on!" This is the motto of circus and theatrical
performers the world over. No matter what happens, under what strain or
pain the player labors, no matter what occurs short of death itself, the
public must not be allowed to guess that anything is wrong. And
sometimes even death itself has been no barrier--for players have gone
through with their parts on the stage when, but the act previous, they
have learned that some loved one had passed away.
And more than one clown has bounded into the sawdust ring with merry
quip and jest, with a smile on his painted face, while his heart was
breaking with grief.
And so it was with Ruth DeVere. As she staggered out of the smoke clouds
and saw that Alice had not followed, at once the dreadful thought came
to her that her sister had been overcome by the fumes. And, although the
smoke bombs were harmless as regards fire, the breathing of the
chemical fumes for any length of time might mean death.
Thus, as Ruth was about to stagger to her feet to go back into the murky
cloud to look for Alice, there came the director's orders to "hold that
pose!"
The show must go on! That meant it would not do to spoil the scene, ruin
the film, and necessitate a retake if, by any possibility, it could be
avoided.
"Stay where you are, Ruth! Stop the camera, Russ! Hold the pose--both of
you. We'll go on from there when we get Alice out!"
And Ruth, her heart torn with anguish, must remain. She was glad her
father was not present.
"Get in there and get the girl!" cried Pop Snooks who was busy lighting
more smoke bombs. "Get that girl, some of you fellows!" For he had
guessed in an instant what had happened. It was not the first time one
of the players had been overcome by the heavy fumes.
Into the cloud dashed some of the head property man's helpers. Russ and
Paul, who could leave their posts while the camera was not in motion,
also penetrated the murkiness.
Fortunately, Alice had been overcome when within a few feet of the clear
atmosphere, and it was the work of but an instant for Paul to carry her
outside, where she could breathe pure air.
"The poor dear!" cried Mrs. Maguire. "Here, give her this ammonia and
water."
"Don't come too close to her, Mrs. Maguire!" warned the director. "Your
black make-up will come off on her face, and it will show in the film."
The director had to think of all those things, though it might seem a
bit heartless.
"I'll be careful," promised the motherly old woman. "I'll be careful."
Alice sipped the aromatic spirits of ammonia, and felt better.
"Did I faint?" she asked. "How silly of me!"
"Are you all right?" asked Ruth, still in her place by the side of the
soldier, who was supposed to be unconscious.
"Yes, Ruth dear. I'm all right now. Oh, and did I leave you to carry him
all alone? I'm so sorry!"
"It was all right. I dragged him."
"Yes, the scene is all right," said Mr. Pertell. "Now, Alice, I don't
want to be heartless, but will you be ready to go on in this, or shall
we abandon it and make a retake?"
"Oh, I'll go on. Just a moment, and I'll be all right."
After a minute or two the plucky girl recovered from the effects of the
smoke, and, though she was weak and wan, managed to go through her part.
She and Ruth carried their "cousin" out of the burning barn which was
then allowed to fall to ruins. Or rather, the extra part, built on for
the purpose, was, Pop Snook's smoke bombs effectually concealing from
the audience the fact that the real barn was not in the least harmed.
"Well, I'm glad that's over," said Alice with a sigh, as a little later
she washed off her make-up and donned her ordinary clothes.
"Do you feel bad?" her sister asked.
"Yes, sort of choked."
"Then let's take a walk up on the hill where there is always a breeze."
On the grassy eminence with the fresh breezes blowing about them, Alice
soon felt much better. But Mr. Pertell called off some of the scenes set
down for next day, so that she might have a rest.
"We'll soon be ready for the big hospital scene, Ruth, and also for the
one where you try to get away with the papers, Alice," said Mr. Pertell
to the two girls one day. "And, in order that everything may run
smoothly I've made a little change in the scenario. I'm going to have a
preliminary hospital scene. In that you will be a sort of orderly, or
assistant nurse, Ruth. And there comes an emergency in which you do so
well that you are sent for to be a nurse in one of the big hospitals
maintained near the front. That will make the story more logical.
"So we'll have one of those hospital scenes to-day. I'll stage a small
engagement, and have a number of men wounded. They'll be brought in, and
there will be a night scene. The doctors and other nurses go off duty,
and you are in charge. An emergency occurs--maybe a bandage slips from
an artery and you sit and hold the wound until a doctor can come and tie
the artery again. We'll work it out as we go along."
"Is there anything for me?" asked Alice.
"No, your part will stand all right as it is until you get to the big
hospital scene. Come on now, Ruth; we'll have a rehearsal."
The rehearsal went off well, and the little change promised to
strengthen the story of the war play. The hospital was set up near Mr.
Apgar's corn-crib.
"And maybe that'll be a good thing," he said. "If you folks use enough
of them there disinfectants and carbolic acid, you may scare away all
the rats and mice that eat my corn in the winter."
"Oh! will there be rats and mice?" asked Ruth, apprehensively.
"Not in the hospital," said Mr. Pertell with a laugh. "It will be
strictly sanitary--as much so as things were in the days of
sixty-three."
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