on turning a corner we came upon a crowd of people who seemed to be
greatly excited. Most of them were workmen in flannel shirts, their
sleeves rolled up, their hands grimy with toil. These stood before a
brick building that seemed like a factory, while from its doors other
crowds of workmen and some shopgirls were rushing into the street and
several policemen were shaking their clubs and running here and there in
a sort of panic. At first Beth and I stopped and hesitated to go on, but
as the sidewalk seemed open and fairly free I pulled Beth along, thinking
we might discover what the row was about. Just as we got opposite the
building a big workman rushed at us and shouted: 'Go back--go back! The
wall is falling.'

"Well, Uncle, you can imagine our dismay. We both screamed, for we
thought our time had come, for sure. My legs were so weak that Beth had
to drag me away and her face was white as a sheet and full of terror.
Somehow we managed to stagger into the street, where a dozen men caught
us and hurried us away. I hardly thought we were in a safe place when the
big workman cried: 'There, young ladies; that will do. Your expression
was simply immense and if this doesn't turn out to be the best film of
the year, I'll miss my guess! Your terror-stricken features will make a
regular hit, for the terror wasn't assumed, you know. Thank you very much
for happening along just then.'"

Patsy stopped her recital to laugh once more, with genuine merriment, but
her cousin Beth seemed annoyed and Uncle John was frankly bewildered.

"But--what--what--was it all about?" he inquired.

"Why, they were taking a moving picture, that was all, and the workmen
and shopgirls and policemen were all actors. There must have been a