| Luncheon (30 actors) | $ 7.50 |
| Carfare (30 actors, location both ways) | 15.00 |
| Automobile (so many hours $4. per) | 100.00 |
| Locations (gratuities for using people’s places) | 20.00 |
| Incidentals | 17.00 |
| Extras (not actors, not incidentals either) | 11.00 |
Those sufficiently interested may add.
CHAPTER XX
IN CALIFORNIA AND ON THE JOB
We would not have been true to the traditions of the Golden State had we not used a Mission in our first picture. We meant to do our very best right off and send back a knock-out.
So to San Gabriel we went to get the lovely old Mission atmosphere in a picture called “Threads of Destiny.”
We spread ourselves; we took the Mission front, back and sideways, inside and out; we used the worn old stairway, shaded by a fragrant pepper tree, that led to the choir loft: we even planted lilies—or rather, Mary Pickford as Myrtle, the orphan girl of San Gabriel, planted lilies—along the adobe wall of the old cemetery where slept baptized Indians and Mexicans.
It was pleasant sprawling about in the lazy sunshine. We who were “atmosphere” wandered about the cemetery, reading the old tombstones, and had the priest guide us through the Mission showing us its three-hundred-year-old treasures. And across the way we visited the curio shop where we bought pretty post-cards and ate tamales, real Mexican tamales.
We would experiment on this Mission picture. We wanted a dim, religious light, and here it was, and we wanted to get it on the screen as it looked to us, the real thing. One little window let in an afternoon slant of soft sunshine that fell directly upon the pulpit where Christie Miller, playing an old priest, was to stand and bless the congregation. If we could light up Christie, the devout worshipers could be mere shadows and it would look fine—just what we wanted. Billy Bitzer would “get” it if it could be got, that we knew. So while Billy was tuning up his camera, Bobby Harron came and gathered in the congregation from the curio shop and cemetery, and we quietly took our places in the chapel and did our atmospheric bit. We did pray—we prayed that it would be a good effect.
We rather held our breath at the picture’s first showing until his tricky scene was flashed on the screen. Then we relaxed; it was all there!
Spanish California was not to be neglected this trip, and our next picture, a romance of the Spanish dominion, called “In Old California” is historical as the first Biograph to be taken in Hollywood. The Hollywood Inn was at this time the only exclusive winter resort between the city and the ocean. We needed rooms where we could make up and dress, and Mr. Anderson, the genial young proprietor, welcomed us cordially.