Allan celebrated the arrival of the sunlight by photographing the group of Italian musicians on the upper deck, and McConnell blazed away with the Wizard at an ocean steamer that had just come over the bar.
“The group of Italian musicians.”
An old gentleman in a bicycle suit who sat smoking at the forward rail, after watching the three boys with cameras, fell to talking with them, and soon had examined all three apparatuses in a way that indicated some knowledge of photography.
“These are all very convenient,” he said. “They make me want to take up photography again.”
“Did you once have a camera?” asked Allan.
“Yes, when I was younger I had a wet-plate outfit. I don’t suppose you know what that was?”
The boys shook their heads.
“Well, in the wet-plate days, before there were any dry plates such as you use, and very long before there were any films,” the old gentleman added, indicating Allan’s Kodak, “we had to coat and sensitize our own plates before exposing them. We had to do this where we made the picture, or very near it, for we had to expose the plate while the coating was still somewhat moist.”
“It must have been a lot of trouble,” said McConnell.