“It was; but I enjoyed it.”
“Then you had to develop them right away, too?” suggested Allan.
“Yes, we had to do the whole thing—sensitize, expose, and develop—at the one time. Ah!” continued the old gentleman, slapping his knee, “but they made beautiful plates! More beautiful than your new-fangled plates!”
They were now nearing the iron pier at Coney Island.
“Boys,” said the old gentleman, “what are you going to do to-day?”
“I don’t know that we are quite sure,” laughed Allan. “We have carried our cameras down to shoot at the island—anything that seems interesting.”
“I tell you what I wish,” continued the old gentleman. “I wish you would go up in the Ferris wheel with me.”
“Thank you,” replied Allan, “we did want to go up in the wheel.”
Owen and McConnell indicated their willingness. “I’ve been around the world since I saw Coney Island before,” the old gentleman went on, “and I have run down to see how much it has changed. I suppose it has changed a good deal. I have too.” The old gentleman smoked in silence until it was time for them to go ashore.
The beach was not so crowded as on a Saturday, but there were animated scenes on every hand. A great chorus of sounds went up from the West End—the shouts of hawkers and doorkeepers; the blare of a dozen merry-go-round organs; the whir and clatter of the switch-back railways; the hum of thousands of voices; the screams of children at the water’s edge, mingling with the swish and roar of the surf.