Scene 3.  Shows Father making a critical inspection of the statue-like valet, and muttering that “his folks must have been fond of children, to raise him!”

Scene 4.  Shows Father glancing up at a shield and some ancient battle-clubs, spears and axes, hung on the wall.  We can easily guess what is passing in his mind.

Scene 5.  Father takes the valet over to the window and stands him facing out, saying that he wishes to show him the wonderful view.  Behind his back Father holds one of the war-clubs.

Scene 6.  As the valet gazes out of the window, Father swings the club upward, preparing for a mighty blow, muttering as he does so:  “It’s a duty I owe my country.”

Scene 7.  Just as Father is about to strike, the valet glances down at something on the corner of the dresser, and exclaims:  “Ah!  A pinochle deck!  My favorite game!” To which Father replies:  “Oh! Do you play cards?”

Scene 8.  Here they are in the middle of an exciting game, Father winning everything, the chips piled high before him.  The valet asks:  “Will you pardon me?  I’ll see if I can get some of my wages in advance.”

Scene 9.  In the lower hallway.  Shows the valet asking Mrs. Jiggs for his salary in advance, adding that “the count always paid him ahead.”

Scene 10.  Back in the room upstairs, with Father at the table, on which are piled the valet’s clothes, while the constantly losing valet plays his last hand from behind a screen.

Scene 11.  Shows the entrance of the butler, who tells Father that Mrs. Jiggs “wishes to see him at once.”

Scene 12.  Shows the inglorious dismissal of the pinochle-loving valet, dressed only in three of Mrs. Jiggs’ hat boxes, the bottoms of which have been knocked out.  When Mrs. Jiggs declares “Pack your things and get out immediately—­you are fired!” the valet answers gloomily:  “I have nothing to pack, Madam!”

This, although merely an idea drawn out into a dozen pictures, is the sort that might easily be made the foundation for a laughable short comedy.  Barring the fact that one or two of the scenes are played (so to speak) in the same setting, with no leader or other scene separating them—­as would be the case in photoplay—­this newspaper “funny” is much better put together, much more logical, and is just about the same number of scenes as were many of the split-reel comedies of a few years ago.  Almost all of the more popular comic series in the newspapers, in fact, may be studied with profit by the would-be writer of screen comedies.  There is action, and often very funny action, in every picture, and the plot moves quickly, logically, and without the slightest sign of unnecessary detail or irrelevant action, to an extremely funny climax, which, best of all, is usually a surprise to the reader.

Apply the same working-principle to the writing of humorous photoplays, especially the plan of having a surprise climax followed by a quick denouement, and you can hardly fail to produce a comedy that will cause the editor to notify you favorably.