Volume 158 — CHIPPO'S SCENARIO.

(With the British Army in France.)

It was the Société Grand Guignol de Cinéma's busy day. On the beach at Petiteville cameras were rattling away like machine guns, orders from the producer were hissing through the air with the vicious hum of explosive bullets, and weary supers were marching and counter-marching in a state of hopeless apathy.

At the very height of these operations Chippo Munks wandered into the camera barrage and got firmly entangled in the picture. As "crowd in background" was indicated by the scenario, the producer refrained from killing Chippo out of hand—in fact he invited his co-operation for another crowd a little later on. Thus it was that Chippo earned the right to describe himself as a "fillum actor," with licence to speak familiarly of his colleagues, Charles Chaplin and Mary Pickford, and full powers to pose as the ultimate authority of the camp whenever cinemas were mentioned.

At the Café des Promeneurs it was generally assumed that Chippo was merely waiting for a fat contract from the Société Grand Guignol, and pending its arrival he explained that he was constructing a suitable scenario.

"The public," he said, "is fed up with Texas rancheros in Anzac 'ats and antimacassar trousers playing poker dice with one 'and and keeping a sustained burst of rapid fire against their opponents with the other. They wants something true to life. Now, my fillum opens at the Café de l'Avenir, where a stout old British soldier runs a Crown an' Anchor board at personal loss, but 'appy in the knowledge that 'e is amusing his comrades."

"The same answering to the name of Chippo Munks?" interjected Chris Jones.

"The name on the programme is Reginald Denvers," said Chippo firmly. "Acrost the way, at the Café de la Vache Noire, a drunken unprincipled gambler named Jim Blaney—which you will also reckernise is an alias—regularly pockets the pay of 'is fellow-soldiers under pretence of a square deal at banker an' pontoon. One night, 'aving sucked 'is victims dry for the time being and also largely taken 'is cawfee avec, Blaney goes acrost to the Avenir an' sets 'is stall out there. Reginald remonstrates.

"'I'm the Great White Chief in this 'ostelry,' says he, 'an' we don't want no three-card-trick sharks butting in.'

"'My modest shrinking vi'let,' says Blaney, 'I'll play where I blinking well please.'

"Reginald thereupon remarks that sooner than allow 'is innocent patrons to be swindled by a six-fingered thimblerigging son of a confidence trickster 'e'd start in an' expose 'im.

"At this point Blaney swears to be revenged, an' there is a hinterval of a minute while the next part of the fillum is bein' prepared.

A LEVY ON PATRIOTISM.

"The following scene shows Blaney all poshed up and busy trying to worm 'is way into the confidence of Suzanne (the daughter of the patron of the Café de l'Avenir), who cherishes a secret passion for Reginald. 'E kids 'er to drop the contents of a white packet into Reginald's vang blanc, telling her it's a love lotion—I should say potion—that will gain 'er Reginald's everlasting affections. Reggie, being thirsty, scoffs off the whole issue an' finds to his dismay that 'is voice 'as been completely destroyed. That's a thrilling situation, Chris, a professeur de Crown an' Anchor not being able to do his patter."

"'E might as well shut up shop right away," agreed Chris.

"Jest so. Reginald rushes after Blaney and tells him off good an' proper——"

"'Ow could 'e when 'e'd lorst his voice?" asked Chris.

"Oh! burn it. This is a fillum drama. 'E sees 'is extensive clientèle drifting away to the Vache Noire an' Blaney getting so rich 'e can afford Beaune an' eggs an' chips for 'is supper every night. In the interests of the misguided victims Reginald tells the Military Police that drinking goes on during prohibited hours at the Vache Noire, an' gets the place put out of bounds. All the speckerlaters thereupon return to the Avenir, an' Part II. finishes with Reginald recovering 'is voice an' carolling 'Little Billy Fair-play, all the way from 'Olloway' while he rakes in the shekels with both hands and feet."

"I'm getting the 'ang of this a bit," said Chris; "I recollect there was a chap named Slaney as once did you down on a deal, an' I remember a red-'aired girl at the Avenir. But all this talk about love lotions and voice dope gets me guessing."

"A fillum drama that's true to life ain't bound to be absolutely true as to facts. The trimmings is extra. We opens next with a little slow music an' Jim Blaney meeting Reginald an' telling 'im 'e 's reformed an' given up gambling. Instead 'e's running a very respectable football sweep, the prize to be given to the one as draws the team that scores most goals, an' 'e offers Reginald a commission an' a seat on the drawing committee if he'll recommend it amongst 'is clients. Such is 'is plausibleness that 'e even sells Suzanne a ticket, though she's not rightly sure if Aston Villa is a race-horse or a lottery number. Reginald, however, suspects treachery.

"'Take your breath reg'ler,' 'e says, or makes movements to that effect. 'The matches for this sweep is played on Saturday, an' I seems to recollect that you an' a lot of the crowd is due for demob on Wednesday, an' I'm going for leave on Tuesday. What guarantee 'ave we that you weigh out before you go?'

"'I pays out immédiatemong on receipt of the Sunday papers, which will be Sunday night," says Blaney. 'That's good enough, ain't it?'

"Reginald therefore invests an' participates in the drawing, though still a bit doubtful. 'Is fears is justified, for on Friday night, 'aving got all the money, Blaney steps outside the estaminay an' hits a Military Police over the ear."

"Whatever for?" asked Chris. "The War's over."

"That's a mystery; but the mystery is solved when they 'ear that Blaney 'as gone to clink to do ten days F.P. No. 2.

"''E's just gauged it to a nicety,' says someone; ''e won't come out till we're demobbed, an' 'e'll be orf before Reginald gets back from leave.'

"It's 'ere the finest scene in the fillum ought to 'appen. Imagine a crowd of defrauded an' infuriated soldiery, led by Reginald, marching up to the F.P. compound and demanding that the miserable Blaney an' their stakes should be 'anded over to them.

Mabel (to dentist). "Be careful, won't you? I'm dreffly ticklish."

"'Never!' says the Provost-Sergeant, twirling his moustaches to needle points.

"'As a sportsman I appeal to you,' says Reginald, 'or we'll wreck the blinkin' compound.'

"'I'll not give him up while I have breath in my body,' says the Provost-Sergeant. 'I've drawn Chelsea in the sweep.'

"Then should ensue the gloriousest shemozzle that ever was; but this scene is spoiled by some miserable perisher who says it ain't worth while making a rough house till they know who's won. What really happens is that they wait till the Sunday papers arrive, when it is found Suzanne 'as won the sweep, 'er 'aving drawn Sunderland, what was top-scorer with seven goals.

"It is then that Reginald's noble nature shows itself. Instead of telling 'er that she's won an' then disappointing 'er by saying the prize money is in custody, 'e buys 'er ticket for 'alf-price. Then 'e goes to the compound an' bribes the sentry to let 'im talk to Blaney through the barbed wire.

"'There's the winning ticket, Blaney,' 'e says; 'now pay out.'

"'Pay out?' says Blaney, grinning hideously. 'Why, what do you think I got into clink for?'

"And the end comes with Reginald stalking 'elplessly outside the wire, an' Blaney laughing an' taunting 'im from inside."

"I don't think much of it," said Chris critically. "I know that Slaney—'im what you call Blaney—did actually do you down real proper, but as a fillum it ain't a good ending."

"P'r'aps it ain't—as it stands," admitted Chippo, "but when I'm demobilized—when Reginald is demobilized, I should say, an' 'e 'appens to meet that Jim Blaney there'll be the finest fillum finish that's ever been released, if the police don't interfere."

Informative Visitor (member of party viewing sights of London). "'Ere y'are, boys. On our left is the statoo of the famous singer, Albert 'All, and on the right we 'ave the Kensington Gas Works."