They passed around to the front and were amazed at the picture disclosed
by the reverse of the gaunt, skeleton-like framework. For now was
displayed Solomon's temple in all its magnificence, with huge pillars
supporting a roof that seemed as solid and substantial as stone and
mortar could make it.

The perspective was wonderful, for they could follow a line of vision
through the broad temple to a passage beyond, along which was
approaching a procession of priests, headed by dancing girls and
musicians beating tomtoms and playing upon reeds. The entire scene was
barbaric in its splendor and so impressive that they watched it
spellbound, awed and silent.

Yet here beside them was the motion-picture camera, clicking steadily
away and operated by a man in his shirt-sleeves who watched the scene
with sharp eyes, now frowning and now nodding approval. Beside him at
times, but rushing from one point to another just outside the chalk-marks
that indicated the "dead line," was the director of this production, who
shouted commands in a nervous, excited manner and raged and tore his hair
when anything went wrong.

Something went very wrong presently, for the director blew a shrill blast
on his whistle and suddenly everything stopped short. The camera man
threw a cloth over his lenses and calmly lighted a cigarette. The
procession halted in uncertainty and became a disordered rabble; but the
director sprang into the open space and shouted at his actors and
actresses in evident ill temper.

"There it is again!" he cried. "Five hundred feet of good film, ruined by