It should not choke itself trying to dramatize the whole big bloody plot of Lorna Doone, or any other novel with a dozen leading people.

Yet some gentle episode from the John Ridd farm, some half-chapter when Lorna and the Doones are almost forgotten, would be fitting.

Let the duck-yard be parading its best, and Annie among the milk-pails, her work for the evening well nigh done.

The Vicar of Wakefield has his place in this form.

The Intimate-and-friendly Motion Picture might very well give humorous moments in the lives of the great, King Alfred burning the cakes, and other legendary incidents of him.