IMPERIAL VALLEY TO YUMA 309 



"two-bit" right, while the common ten-centers, 

 mainly Mexicans and Indians, passed in on the left. 



The rattle of the music roused in me an appetite 

 (last satisfied years ago, I thought for ever) for 

 movies, and when I saw the Indian and squaw come 

 back down the street and enter, I walked over, paid 

 my dime, and followed, taking the seat next behind 

 them. 



My attention was divided between the play and 

 my front neighbors. The play, already well on its 

 course, was the regulation kind of thing, and the 

 acting of the regulation stagey sort, with full meas- 

 ure of the clenching of hands, smiting of brows, 

 rolling of eyes, and heaving of chests that mark the 

 authentic movie drama. The story does n't matter; 

 there were stolen interviews, a secret marriage, a 

 wealthy, cruel parent, reckless expenditure on cabs 

 and telegrams, a baby girl, a death, the good old 

 landlady with asides and risky buttons, realistic 

 scenes of high-low-life in Rio or somewhere, a 

 poodle, and so forth. 



But it was the "one touch of nature" that caught 

 us all. The baby, grown to a sunny-haired romp of 

 five, came dancing downstairs and threw herself on 

 grandpapa's neck with prattle, hugs, and kisses. It 

 was then that our hearts gave way. The buck's right 

 arm had been lying along the seat-rail behind his 

 squaw's broad crimson back; the other hand was in 

 his lap. At this point the free arm crept over and he 

 clasped the hand of his woman, while the arm be- 

 hind drew her closer. Would that I might have 

 reached over and wrung those dark and dirty paws! 



