"That was a mistake on the part of Mr. Pertell; wasn't it, Ruth?" asked one of the young actresses—a pretty girl—of her sister, who stood near her in the mimic scene.
"Yes, indeed, Alice. But it isn't often he makes one."
"No, indeed. Oh, we mustn't talk any more. I see him looking at us."
"Begin!" called the manager, sharply, and the play proceeded, while the young moving picture operator clicked away at the handle of his camera, the long strip of film moving behind the lens with a whirring sound, and registering views of the pantomime of the actors and actresses at the rate of sixteen a second.
The above was done several times a day in the New York studio of the Comet Film Company, which was engaged in making moving pictures.
The play went on through the various acts. Only part of it was being "filmed" now—the interior scenes. Later, others would be taken outdoors.
"Time out—hold your positions!" suddenly exclaimed the operator. "Film's broken. I've got to mend it."
Everyone came to a standstill at that. In a few seconds the damage was repaired, and the play went on. It was, in the main, a "parlor" drama, and there were to be only a few outdoor scenes.
"That will do for the present," said Mr. Pertell. "You may all take a rest now. This will be our last New York play for some time—that is, after we get the outdoor scenes for this."
"Where are we going next?" asked the elderly actor before mentioned. He spoke in very hoarse voice, and it was evident that he had some throat affection. In fact, it was the ailment which had forced him to give up acting in the "legitimate," and take to the "movies."