I was surprised that in the midst of this great industry there should have been found time and thought to spend on abstract decoration and beauty. The garden was full of flowers, and stone urns cast long shadows on the grass. Strange figures passed me by; a pirate, and then some Russian refugees and Russian children turned joyful somersaults upon the grass. And then--the village! So quaint and old world, so exactly like our village at home. It enchanted me, I thought it would be a lovely place to live. I asked questions and they told me it was a sham. I could not believe this until I had walked all round it. Such a splendid solid sham it was, with such an unflinching front. Then I began to wonder what was real and what was mere illusion. I seemed to go to Russia and then to China. I looked for my Romeo in Venice, and then felt sadly transplanted to an East Side slum. I looked at the ground to be sure I was walking on real grass, and up at the sky to see if I was still in the world, and then I pinched myself and it was still me. But in this bewildering land of make-believe I found realities. I lingered and looked at some plays being staged in opposite parts of the studios. I marvelled at the patience and the effort that each small scene demanded. Patience and good temper on the part of the director, the camera men, the electricians, the carpenters--endless, endless patience, amazing good humor. I watched one small and--as it seemed to me--insignificant scene being repeated three or four times, and each time seemed to me exactly like the last, and each time, when it was over, the director said to the actress: “That’s good, dear, that’s very good!” But he explained to me that whereas the first “shot” was 45 feet long, the last one was reduced to 25 feet and the important thing was condensation. I realized the necessity of co-operation between the workers, beginning with the author’s effort, and the “continuity writers,” right through the details to the end. What immense individual effort, and thought and work each film scene necessitates! Here too, as everywhere, are the heartbreaks, the dreams and ambitions, the triumphs, the disappointments, the never ending dramas and tragedies of human endeavor. [Illustration: THE “RUSSIAN CASTLE” IN THE “LAND OF MAKE-BELIEVE” (Photograph by Goldwyn Pictures Corporation) ] It is a new world to me, and I have to admit a great admiration and a great respect for it.