Free Chronica by Paul Levinson Page B

erstwhile, for the past few years – William Dickson. He was 10 years older than Porter, and was widely considered the real brains behind Edison's kinetoscope moving-picture machine. He had the same moustache and sideburns as Porter, who considered Dickson an older brother. Perhaps Dickson could be of help with how to best approach William Henry Appleton.

    Dickson rose to greet Porter with a firm handshake and big toothy smile. "Good to see you again, good to be back in New York," Dickson said in his Scottish accent. "As much as I love London, I miss the energy of New York!"

    Porter sat and the two ordered pints. After catching up with each other's doings, Porter told Dickson about the job Heron had given him. Porter may have suspected that Edison was in league with Heron, but he knew for a fact that Dickson had done many things for the strange man over the years.

    Dickson considered. "Mary Anderson," he said after a few moments. "Take her with you to see Appleton. I had a delightful time with her in London last year – almost talked her into making one of my 'What the butler saw' little photo-plays. You know what those are?"

    Porter nodded and grinned broadly. "Scantily clad aristocratic women further undressing, usually by the sea shore! A true milestone in photography!"

    "Yes," Dickson said, and chuckled appreciatively. "And I learned that Miss Anderson has an abiding interest in Hypatia – which, as everyone knows, is one of Appleton's consuming devotions."

    "I heard she's preparing for a performance as Hypatia in the play of the same name, based on Charles Kingsley's novel," Porter said.

    "Well there you go!" Dickson said, and ordered another two pints.

    ***

    Porter paid Mary Anderson a visit the next morning. She was staying in a small hotel north of 59 th Street. He thought that Dickson's idea was brilliant. Mary would be a perfect entrée to Appleton. Not to mention that she was deliciously easy on the eyes. She was forty years old, but looked at least a decade younger.

    The carriage stopped across the street from Mary's hotel. Porter climbed down, walked up to the hotel, and announced himself to the doorman. Mary came down a few minutes later. "What a pleasant surprise!" she said, with a radiant smile.

    "Can I buy you a cup of coffee, or something stronger?" he asked.

    "It's a little too early for something stronger, but that never stopped me before," Mary said. "The café is very nice." She pointed to a little restaurant down the street.

    "How are the rehearsals proceeding?" Porter asked her, when they were seated, and had placed their orders for drinks.

    "Very well, thanks for asking," Mary said. "It's a wonderful part. Such a tragic story!"

    "Yes," Porter replied.

    "And how go your photo-plays?" Mary asked.

    "Quite well, too," Porter said. "And that is what I wanted to see you about."

    "I've never acted in a photo-play," Mary said, coyly. "I don't share the low opinion that many in the theater have of the photo-play. It's just that I have never been offered a suitable part. But they may well be the way of the future. They can be shown on the screen a myriad of times, and the actors and actresses never tire!"

    "I'm gratified you feel that way," Porter said. "I was thinking you might want to reprise your performance of Hypatia in a small photo-play I am contemplating making about her."

    "I've seen some of the Lumière Brothers' work – L'arrivée d'un train en gare de La Ciotat   is my favorite! Magical, wonderful, stunning! In addition, of course, to the work done by Mr. Edison's company!"

    "Yes, I hope to make some photo-plays for him, someday soon," Porter said, and bowed his head modestly.

    "But those photo-plays are quite short – less than a minute," Mary said. "How could you tell anything of poor Hypatia's story in that short a time?"

    "There is no reason the moving picture cannot be longer," Porter replied.

    ***

    The two made a plan to attempt a visit with William Henry Appleton