hone. "Don't
spoil the film, Russ. You got a good scene there. He went through the
window all right, and his yells won't register. Stop the camera!"

"Stopped she is," reported Russ.

Then those of the players who had been looking on and wondering at Mr.
Switzer's cries could hurry to his rescue.

For it is a crime out of the ordinary in the annals of moving pictures
for any one not in the scene to get within range of the camera when an
act is being filmed. It means not only the spoiling of the reel,
perhaps, but a retaking of that particular action. When Russ ceased to
grind at the camera crank, however, it was the same as when the shutter
of an ordinary camera is closed. No more views can be taken. It was safe
for others to cross the field of vision.

"What's the matter?" cried Paul, who, with Ruth and Alice and some of
the others trailing after him, was hurrying toward the false front of
boards that represented a shed.

"Did a cow critter or a sheep step on you?" Russ questioned.

"Ach! My face! My clothes! Ruined!" came in accents of deep disgust from
the actor. "Never again will I leap through a window without knowing
into what I am going to land. Ach!"

"What happened?" asked Paul, trying to keep from laughing, for the
player's voice was so funnily tragic.

"What happened? Come and see!" cried Mr. Switzer. "I have into a
chicken's home invaded myself already!"

"Invaded himself into a chicken's home!" exclaimed Mr. Pertell. "What in
the world does he mean?"

"I guess he means he sat down in a hen's nest!" chuckled Paul, and this
proved to be the case.

Going around to the other side of the erected boards, the players and
others saw a curious sight.

Seated on the hay, his face, his hair, his hands, and his clothing a
mass of the whites and yellows of eggs, was Carl Switzer. He held up his
fingers, dripping with the ingredients of half a dozen omelets.

"The chicken's home was right here, in the hay--where I jumped. I landed
right in among the eggs--head first. Get me some water--quick!" implored
the player.

"Didn't you see the eggs before you jumped among 'em?" asked Mr.
Pertell.

"See them? I should say not! Think you I would have precipitated myself
into their midst had I done so?" indignantly demanded Mr. Switzer,
relapsing into his formally-learned English. "I have no desire to be a
part of a scrambled egg," he went on. "Some water--quick!"

While one of the extra players was bringing the