ore than one thousand people and about
three hundred horsemen. The following were built expressly for the
production: a replica of the ancient city of Bethulia; the mammoth wall
that protected Bethulia; a faithful reproduction of the ancient army
camps, embodying all their barbaric splendor and dances; chariots,
battering rams, scaling ladders, archer towers, and other special war
paraphernalia of the period.

"The following spectacular effects: the storming of the walls of the
city of Bethulia; the hand-to-hand conflicts; the death-defying chariot
charges at break-neck speed; the rearing and plunging horses infuriated
by the din of battle; the wonderful camp of the terrible Holofernes,
equipped with rugs brought from the far East; the dancing girls in their
exhibition of the exquisite and peculiar dances of the period; the
routing of the command of the terrible Holofernes, and the destruction of
the camp by fire. And overshadowing all, the heroism of the beautiful
Judith."

This advertisement should be compared with the notice of Your Girl and
Mine transcribed in the seventeenth chapter.

But there is another point of view by which this Judith of Bethulia
production may be approached, however striking the advertising notice.

There are four sorts of scenes alternated: (1) the particular history of
Judith; (2) the gentle courtship of Nathan and Naomi, types of the
inhabitants of Bethulia; (3) pictures of the streets, with the population
flowing like a sluggish river; (4) scenes of raid, camp, and battle,
interpolated between these, tying the whole together. The real plot is
the balanced alternation of all the elements. So many minutes of one,
then so many minutes of another. As was proper, very little of the tale
was thrown on the screen in reading matter, and no climax was ever a
printed word, but always an enthralling tableau.

The particular history of Judith begins with the picture of her as the
devout widow. She is austerely garbed, at prayer for her city, in her own
quiet house. Then later she is shown decked for the eyes of man in the
camp of Holofernes, where all is Assyrian glory. Judith struggles between
her unexpected love for the dynamic general and the resolve to destroy
him that brought her there. In either type of scene, the first gray and
silver, the other painted with Paul Veronese splendor, Judith moves with
a delicate deliberation. Over her face the emotions play like winds on a
meadow lake. Holo