“It’s a great picture!” whispered Flo, as they made their way out of the crowded theatre.  “Why can’t all our films be as natural and absorbing as this one?”

“Because,” said her sister, “in this case there is no acting.  The picture carries conviction with a force that no carefully rehearsed scene could ever accomplish.”

“That is true,” agreed her Aunt Jane.  “The nature scenes are the best, after all.”

“The most unsatisfactory pictures I have ever seen,” remarked Uncle John, “were those of prominent men, and foreign kings, and the like, who stop before the camera and bow as awkwardly as a camel.  They know they are posing, and in spite of their public experience they’re as bashful as schoolboys or as arrogant as policemen, according to their personal characteristics.”

“Did you notice the mob of children in that theatre?” asked Patsy, as they proceeded homeward.  “I wish there were more pictures made that are suitable to their understandings.”

“They enjoy anything in the way of a picture,” said Arthur.  “It isn’t necessary to cater to children; they’ll go anyhow, whatever is shown.”

“That may be, to an extent, true,” said Beth.  “Children are fascinated by any sort of motion pictures, but a lot of them must be wholly incomprehensible to the child mind.  I agree with Patsy that the little ones ought to have their own theatres and their own pictures.”

“That will come, in time,” prophesied Aunt Jane.  “Already the film makers are recognizing the value of the children’s patronage and are trying to find subjects that especially appeal to them.”

They reached the hotel soon after ten o’clock and found “Ajo” seated in the lobby.  He appeared much brighter and stronger than the day before and rose to greet Patsy with a smile that had lost much of its former sad expression.

“Congratulate me, Dr. Doyle,” said he.  “I’m still alive, and—­thanks to your prescription—­going as well as could be expected.”

“I’m glad I did the right thing,” she replied; “but we were all a little worried for fear I’d make a mistake.”

“I have just thrown away about a thousand of those food-tablets,” he informed her with an air of pride.  “I am positive there is no substitute for real food, whatever the specialists may say.  In fact,” he continued more soberly, “I believe you have rescued me a second time from certain death, for now I have acquired a new hope and have made up my mind to get well.”

“Be careful not to overdo it,” cautioned Uncle John.  “You ordered a queer supper, we hear.”

“But it seemed to agree with me.  I’ve had a delightful sleep—­the first sound sleep in a month—­and already I feel like a new man.  I waited up to tell you this, hoping you would be interested.”

“We are!” exclaimed Patsy, who felt both pride and pleasure.  “This evening we have been to see the motion picture of your rescue from drowning.”