MARINES.
Last year many of the pictures sent in labelled "Marines" were really landscapes showing, perhaps, a tiny bit of water. A marine, strictly speaking, means a sea picture, but when prizes are offered for marines, views on lakes and rivers are always admitted, so that one need not necessarily send in a picture taken at the sea-shore.
Among the most attractive of marine views are those showing a view of rugged cliffs with the surf beating against them, where wave after wave "breaks on the rocks, which, stern and gray, shoulders the broken tide away." To obtain the most successful picture of such a scene one should use a tripod, and get as clear a focus as possible. Get the plate ready, set the shutter, and then wait till a big wave comes rolling in, and, breaking against the rocks, sends the spray high in air. At the very instant that it strikes the rock snap the shutter, and if the exposure has been all right, the picture will be everything to be desired of the breaking waves. Use a small diaphragm (6/32 being a good size), and make a quick exposure. If the day is rather dull use a size larger diaphragm and a trifle slower exposure.
A stretch of sandy beach with the tide coming in makes a good marine, especially if there are plenty of clouds in the sky. Such a picture must have some object in the foreground in order to secure the effect of distance and perspective. A piece of drift-wood, an old wreck, or any object of suitable size that one finds along the shore, will do to break the level of the sand.
Marine views also include pictures of water-craft. Yachts are the most graceful of water-craft, but the old dory is not to be despised. One of the marines which took a prize last year was entitled, "Stranded." It was the picture of a once handsome yacht, which had been driven ashore by a storm, and was lying partly on its side on the beach. The cloud effects in this picture were very good, and added much to the beauty of the picture. The picture was well taken, and the subject a rather uncommon one for a photograph.
Another marine sent in last year was a picture of a lighthouse, built on jagged-looking rocks, taken when the tide was just coming in. Still another, which was not strictly a marine, was a view of a long line of vessels drawn up at the dock. The picture had the effect of a street of ships instead of houses.
The prizes offered for marine and landscape views are less than those offered for figure studies, as marines or landscapes are usually much easier pictures to make than figures.
The entry for "Marines" closes on October 15th, for after that date there is usually little opportunity for making successful water pictures. Be sure and get your pictures in at least a week before this date. Take special pains with the finishing and mounting, as technical excellence is one of the points for which the pictures are to be marked.
Sir Knight John H. Chambers says that his last batch of negatives were so black that he could get no prints, and asks if there is any way to remedy them. The plates were developed too long and are too dense. This can be reduced by the following process: Cyanide of potassium, ½ oz.; water, 10 oz. Dissolve and add 2 drachms of bromine water. Soak the plate in clear water for a few minutes till the film is softened, and then immerse in this solution for a few seconds. Take out and wash, and if the negative is still too dense immerse it again. Repeat the process till the film is reduced sufficiently. Label the bottle "Poison," and keep it carefully locked up when not in use. One should have a plate lifter, or use rubber finger-tips when handling the plates with this solution. Sir John also says that the gelatine gets black first on the side next to the plate when developing. If the tray is kept gently rocking during development the development should be from the top downward. When the image is seen from the back of the plate it is supposed that development has proceeded as far as it will, and the plate is left in the developer simply to acquire the proper density. This can be judged by looking through the plate toward the light, holding it rather near the light. Sir John says he would like to start a Camera Club or Chapter, and wants members of the club to write and send suggestions and also to join the Chapter. We have several successful Chapters already, and would like to have more among our members.
Sir Knight Octave de Mauriac, P. O. Box 596, Middletown, Connecticut, would like correspondence from Sir Knights or chapters interested in photography. Will answer all letters, and would also like to exchange photographic prints.
Sir Knight Harry H. Luther, of Nantucket, Massachusetts, says he would like to become a member of the Camera Club. We are very glad to add the name of Sir Harry to our club list. As he writes from Nantucket, Massachusetts, we shall expect some fine marine pictures from him for the coming contest. Sir Harry asks for papers on retouching, special toning, formulas, etc. These papers are ready for publication and will soon appear.
ON BOARD THE ARK.
BY ALBERT LEE.
CHAPTER IX.
The ex-Pirate very good-naturedly put his head under the table and pulled the Gopher out from the pile of débris and broken crockery. The little beast did not appear to have suffered any injury beyond tearing a gash in his pink sun-bonnet, and as soon as he had resumed his place at the table he looked about him and smiled just as if nothing had happened.
"You don't seem to mind your fall a bit," remarked the Sheep, somewhat surprised.
"Oh, I don't mind it at all," answered the Gopher, complacently.
"I thought you would be dreadfully cut up," put in the ex-Pirate.
"So did I, at first," continued the Gopher; "but only my sun-bonnet got cut, and that was badly cut in the beginning anyway, so that this extra slash does not make any particular difference. And what do you suppose I saw under the table?"
"Feet," said the ex-Pirate, at a venture.
"That's pretty good for a first guess," retorted the Gopher; "but I saw something else."
"What did you see?" quickly asked Tommy, who was beginning to feel that he had been out of the conversation long enough.
"I saw It," answered the Gopher.
"You don't say so!" exclaimed the Sheep.
"Indeed I did. Do you want to play a game?"
"Certainly, I'm getting awfully tired of sitting here. Let's play a game."
"I wish you would explain," broke in Tommy. "You are talking about all sorts of things, and I can't understand a word. What is this all about? What is it the Gopher saw under the table?"
"Why, he saw It," answered the ex-Pirate.
"Well, what is that?" asked Tommy.
"Don't you know what It is?" exclaimed the ex-Pirate, his eyes opening very wide with surprise.
"No, I don't," replied the little boy, bluntly, "and I wish you would explain."
"Goodness!" gasped the Gopher. "Where did you come from? Did not you ever play any games?"
"Certainly," said the little boy; "but what has that to do with it?"
"You could not very well play any games without It," insisted the Gopher.
"It," declared the ex-Pirate very slowly and impressively, "is the one that runs after you when you are playing tag, and the one that hides his face and shuts his eyes when you play hide-and-go-seek."
"Oh, I've played those games lots of times," said Tommy.
"Then you must have seen It," put in the Sheep.
"Never," said Tommy.
"How did you play, then?" asked the ex-Pirate.
"One of us was it, of course," explained Tommy; "and when he caught another, the other was it."
"How funny," said the Gopher. "Why, with us It is always It. That's the fun of the game."
"Of course it is," added the ex-Pirate. "I don't see how you could play without It. We had an It on board the Black Avenger, and we used to play tag for exercise when we were becalmed. But one day, in a storm, it was washed overboard, and we had to go without playing games all the rest of the voyage."
"How stupid of you!" remarked Tommy. "Why did not you take turns being it?"
"Never thought of such a thing," admitted the ex-Pirate, frankly. "You will explain to us how it is done, some time, won't you?"
"Why, of course," replied Tommy. "I'm sure it's very simple."
"Is it simpler than dominoes?" inquired the Gopher. "I never could understand dominoes. You see, there's no It in that, and that makes it so complicated."
"Yes, the lack of an It complicates games very much," said the ex-Pirate. "But let us play an easy game now. Go down and butt him out from under the table," he added, turning to the Sheep.
The latter obligingly jumped to the floor and disappeared under the table. A few moments later Tommy heard a thump, followed by a whizzing sound, and then a queer-looking something sped out from under the table and slid along the floor as though it had been shot out of a catapult.
"That's It," said the Gopher, unconcernedly. And then they all got up and walked over to where a new sort of a queer creature, such as Tommy had never seen before, was getting itself together after its encounter with the Sheep's head. Tommy took in the peculiar features of the new-comer as carefully and completely as he had taken in the other unusual events of the day.
It was an undersized being that walked on two legs, and corresponded somewhat to the little boy's idea of what a dwarf ought to be, except that Tommy had always thought of dwarfs as being round and fat, whereas this creature was exceedingly thin, almost bony, "by reason of his constantly playing games," explained the ex-Pirate. Its head went up almost to a point, on top of which grew a little tuft of hair, which Tommy at first took to be a small fur cap; and the utter lack of expression in his pallid face betokened that It had no understanding whatever beyond his own sphere of utility.
"Perhaps that's why he is willing to be it all the time," thought Tommy. "I'm sure he does not look as if he knew enough to object."
"MY LIFE IS ONE LONG PURSUIT OF THE UNATTAINABLE."
By this time the Sheep had rejoined the group and was ready to play.
"I don't want to play any game of chance," said the ex-Pirate when the Gopher asked what it should be.
"No; we won't have any game of chance," agreed the Sheep.
"I don't see how you could," ventured Tommy, "if It is in the game. It strikes me that if It is always It, there is no chance for him."
"Of course not," answered the ex-Pirate; "there's no chance for him ever, but we don't consider him. We take all the chances."
Tommy did not understand, but this was nothing new to him, and he consented to play anything that would please the rest.
They decided to have a game of Bumpolump. It took the ex-Pirate fully fifteen minutes to explain to the little boy how Bumpolump was played, and even then Tommy never got a clear idea of it, and was unable to give his Uncle Dick the slightest explanation of how it was done, except that It had an inordinate amount of running about to do, while the others seemed to get all the fun. And at the end everybody got a prize except It.
"I should not think you would like this," said Tommy to It, sympathetically.
"I don't," answered It. "I've gotten quite beyond that. My life is one long pursuit of the unattainable. How does it feel to succeed?"
Tommy, not knowing just what to say under the circumstances, hesitated; but before he could reply It continued:
"You see, I always apparently succeed in all I do—just as in Bumpolump—but I never enjoy the fruits of success. The others always get the prizes, and I have to start all over again. Some day—"
But just then an Ibex came along, and saying "Excuse me" to Tommy, he butted It up to the other end of the room, where a lot of little Ibexes and Zebus immediately began to hop about, apparently playing some game with It, who was laboring with his utmost energy.