reproduce
fairy dells. It can give every ripple of the lily-pond. It can show us
cathedrals within and without. It can take in the panorama of cyclopaean
cloud, bending forest, storm-hung mountain. In like manner it can put on
the screen great impersonal mobs of men. It can give us tremendous
armies, moving as oceans move. The pictures of Fairy Splendor, Crowd
Splendor, Patriotic Splendor, and Religious Splendor are but the
embodiments of these backgrounds.

And a photographic corollary quite useful in these four forms is that the
camera has a kind of Hallowe'en witch-power. This power is the subject of
this chapter.

The world-old legends and revelations of men in connection with the
lovely out of doors, or lonely shrines, or derived from inspired
crusading humanity moving in masses, can now be fitly retold. Also the
fairy wand can do its work, the little dryad can come from the tree. And
the spirits that guard the Republic can be seen walking on the clouds
above the harvest-fields.

But we are concerned with the humblest voodooism at present.

Perhaps the world's oldest motion picture plot is a tale in Mother Goose.
It ends somewhat in this fashion:--

The old lady said to the cat:--
"Cat, cat, kill rat.
Rat will not gnaw rope,
Rope will not hang butcher,
Butcher will not kill ox,
Ox will not drink water,
Water will not quench fire,
Fire will not burn stick,
Stick will not beat dog,
Dog will not bite pig,
Pig will not jump over the stile,
And I cannot get home to-night."

By some means the present writer does not remember, the cat was persuaded
to approach the rat. The rest was like a tale of European diplomacy:--

The rat began to gnaw the rope,
The rope began to hang the butcher,
The butcher began to kill the ox,
The ox began to drink the water,
The water began to quench the fire,
The fire began to burn the stick,
The stick began to beat the dog,
The dog began to bite the pig,
The frightened little pig jumped over the stile,
And the old lady was able to get home that night.

Put yourself back to the state of mind in which you enjoyed this bit of
verse.

Though the photoplay fairy-tale may rise to exquisite heights, it begins
with pictures akin to this rhyme. Mankind in his childhood has always
wanted his furniture to do such things. Arthur names his blade
Excalibur. It becomes a person. The man in the Arabia