Herringport Union congregation. They were selfconscious, and felt that
they were in a silly situation. Those who were not too serious of demeanor
were giggling like schoolgirls.

Yet everything was ready for the cameras. Mr. Hooley's keen eye ran over
all the group. He waved a hand to the camera men.

"Ready camera--action--go!"

The women remained speechless. They merely looked at each other in a
helpless way. It was evident they had forgotten all the instructions the
director had given them.

But suddenly into the focus of the cameras ran a barefooted urchin waving
a newspaper. This was the Alectrion Company's smartest "kid" actor and a
favorite wherever his tousled head, freckled face, and wide grin appeared
on the screen. He plunged right at Mother Paisley and thrust the paper
into her hand, while he pointed at a certain place on the front page.

"Read _that_, Ma Bassett!" cried the news vender.

Mrs. Paisley gave expression first to wonder, then utter amazement, as she
read the item Ruth had had inserted in this particular "edition" of the
_Harpoon_. She was a fine old actress and her facial registering of
emotion was a marvel. Mr. Hooley had seldom to advise her.

Now his voice was heard above the clack of the cameras:

"Pass it to the lady at your left. That's it! Cling to the paper. Get your
heads together--three of you now!"

The amateur players looked at each other and began to grin. The scene
promised to be as big a "fizzle" as the one shot the previous day.

But the woman next to Mrs. Paisley, after looking carelessly at the paper,
of a sudden came to life. She seized the _Harpoon_ with both hands, fairly
snatching it out of the actress' hands. She was too startled to be polite.

"What under the canopy is this here?" she sputtered.

She was a small, wiry, vigorous woman, and she had an expressive, if a
vinegary, face. She rose from her seat and forgot all about her
"play-acting."

"What d'you think it says here?" she demanded of her sister-members of the
ladies' aid.

"Sh!"

"Ella Painter, you're a-bustin' up the show!" admonished a motherly old
person at the end of the table.

But Mrs. Painter did not notice these hushed remarks. She read the item in
the paper aloud--and so extravagantly did she mouth the astonishing words
that Ruth feared they might be read on her lips when shown on the screen.

"Listen!" Mrs. Painter cried. "Right at the top of the marriage notices!
'Garside--Smythe.