“Go ahead, my dears,” said Uncle John, smiling approval.  “And, if you girls find you haven’t enough money to carry out your plans, come to me.”

“Oh, thank you, Uncle!” exclaimed Beth.  “But I feel sure we can manage the cost ourselves.  We will build one of the theatres first, and if that is a success we will build others.”

“But about those films, made especially for children,” remarked Arthur.  “Where will you get them?”

“Why, there are lots of firms making films,” replied Patsy.  “We can select from all that are made the ones most suitable for our purpose.”

“I fear you cannot do that,” said Mrs. Montrose, who had listened with wonder to this conversation.  “There are three combinations, or ‘trusts,’ among the film makers, which are known as the Licensed, the Mutual and the Independents.  If you purchase from one of these trusts, you cannot get films from the others, for that is their edict.  Therefore you will have only about one-third of the films made to select from.”

“I thought money would buy anything—­in the way of merchandise,” said Louise, half laughing and half indignant.

“Not from these film dictators,” was the reply.

“They all make a few children’s pictures,” announced Maud Stanton.  “Even the Continental turns out one occasionally.  But there are not nearly enough, taken all together, to supply an exclusive children’s theatre.”

“Then we will have some made,” declared Patsy.  “We will order some fairy tales, such as the children like.  They would be splendid in motion pictures.”

“Some have already been made and exhibited,” said Mrs. Montrose.  “The various manufacturers have made films of the fairy tales of Hans Andersen, Frank Baum, Lewis Carroll and other well-known writers.”

“And were they successful?”

“Quite so, I believe; but such films are seldom put out except at holiday time.”

“I think, Beth,” said Patsy to her cousin, in a businesslike tone, “that we must organize a company and make our own films.  Then we can get exactly what we want.”

“Oh, yes!” replied Beth, delighted with the suggestion.  “And let us get Maud and Flo to act in our pictures.  Won’t it be exciting?”

“Pardon me, young ladies,” said A. Jones, speaking for the first time since this subject had been broached.  “Would it not be wise to consider the expense of making films, before you undertake it?”

Patsy looked at him inquiringly.

“Do you know what the things cost?” she asked.

“I’ve some idea,” said he.  “Feature films of fairy tales, such as you propose, cost at least two thousand dollars each to produce.  You would need about three for each performance, and you will have to change your programmes at least once a week.  That would mean an outlay of not less than six thousand dollars a week, which is doubtless more money than your five-cent theatre could take in.”