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Updated: June 16, 2025
Bunn, getting up quickly. "I want to see the manager at once." "What's the trouble?" asked that gentleman, as he came up. "I demand that you destroy that film of me being chase by a cow!" cried Mr. Bunn. "I shall be the laughing stock of all the moving picture theaters of the United States. I demand that that film be not shown. To be chased by a cow!"
"Hurry with those rails!" called Mr. Pertell to Mr. Bunn. "He can't stay in that icy water forever." Some of the men who had been working at removing the snow now came up with ropes and trace chains. Then, when the rails were spread out on the ice, near the air hole, the rescuers were able to get near enough to throw the ends of several lines to Mr. Sneed.
I never experienced the same amount of fear which is expressed by Bunn and other writers, for, on comparing the number of accidents with the number of miles of railway open in America, I did not find the disadvantage in point of safety on her side. The cars are a complete novelty to an English eye.
But only for a season. Not for ever. No, no. There is one celebrated author whom I admire very much who has been taking leave of the public any time these ten years in his prefaces, and always comes back again when everybody is glad to see him. How can he have the heart to be saying good-bye so often? I believe that Bunn is affected when he blesses the people. Parting is always painful.
"No no!" he cried. "I didn't mean that way." "Than vot you means?" asked the German, puzzled. Meanwhile Wellington Bunn was painfully walking over to a more substantial chair. "That was all a trick!" he cried. "You did that on purpose, Mr. Snooks. You provided a broken chair!" "I did not!" protested the property man. "It was the way you threw yourself into it.
"We might make it into some sort of a play like 'Quo Vadis?" he went on. "Hardly," said Mr. Pertell with a smile. "They didn't wear tall silk hats in those days. But I'll change the script of this play to conform to the chase. I'm glad you were not hurt, Mr. Bunn." "So am I. I thought several times that I felt those horns in my back."
"Let me show him," broke in the melancholy voice of Wellington Bunn. Striding into the scene, which had been interrupted to enable this bit of rehearsal to be gone through with, the old Shakespearean actor approached the chair and cast himself into it as though he had lost his last friend, and had no hope left on earth. "That's the way that's the idea copy that!" cried Mr.
"I can't have my company out like this all night. We must get on to Elk Lodge, somehow." "Well, I don't see how you're going to do it," responded the hunter. "You could walk, of course; but you couldn't take your baggage, and you wouldn't like that." "Walk? Never! I protest against that!" exclaimed Mr. Bunn. "'He doth protest too much!" quoted Paul, in a low voice.
"I fall overboard!" was the startled exclamation. "Yes, and Mr. Bunn dives in after you. You are both good swimmers you remember you told me so." The use of the dock of the St. Augustine Power Boat Club had been loaned for the making of the moving picture, and next day, with such of his company as were to go in the boats, Mr. Pertell went to the float.
Accordingly, after some intervening scenes had been filmed to make the action of the story, as revised, more plausible, Russ moved his camera near the bog hole, ready to get views of Mr. Bunn, when he should stumble into it, and also Mr. Towne, when the latter came to the rescue. "All ready now let her go!" called the manager. "Come along, Mr. Bunn."
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