Or more important things: In “The Affairs of Anatol” a woman steals a pocketbook to pay back money she has taken from her husband, who is treasurer of a church, and the husband accepts it as quite all right, without making any effort at all to find out where his wife got it. Apparently, in such cases, neither actors nor directors knew any better—in the one case good manners, in the other, seemingly, good morals. But we have a right to insist on something better than that. The people who tell our stories must know more about both manners and morals than we do, or they are not worth keeping on as story-tellers. How long could a teacher unable to speak correct English be kept in a public school? If the people of our photoplays don’t do worth-while, intelligent, convincing things,—out with them. They do not need to be goody-goodies, either. Last of all, the place where things happen. Here, it is plain sailing; we want things artistic if possible—but accurate, anyway. Suppose a boy started to tell you about a game of tennis, and happened to refer to the solid rubber balls. When a photoplay shows London streets, with all the traffic going to the right, instead of to the left as it really goes there, we watch a lie. Once in writing a story about a man who had been in South Africa I referred to the little kangaroos he had seen there. It was a slip; the man was an Australian, and I had confused the little ground apes or baboons of the veldt with kangaroos, in the queer way that we all have of making mistakes sometimes. Kangaroos grow only in Australia. But what a calling down I got from the editor to whom I sent that story! It was his business to see, among other things, that he protected his readers from just that sort of misrepresentation. In motion pictures, they have not got quite so far along yet. Near-cowboys are apt to seize the pommel of a saddle with their left hand and climb on any untried horse with it, instead of holding the side of the bridle with the left hand, as they usually do. The movies haven’t yet learned that they have a duty of being accurate, and truthful. And we must help them learn that lesson. To be sure, we may not recognize all the mistakes, or even very many of them; but where we do—put down a black mark. The producer of the picture with that particular lie in it is not playing fair with you. And now, a final word about how to find the best pictures, and avoid the poorer ones.