of the Steck Piano Company on the large window is to be read—"American Mutoscope and Biograph Company."
However, the name of the new tenant signified nothing whatever to the real estate firm adjacent to No. 11 that had made the new lease. It was understood that Mutoscope pictures to be shown in Penny Arcades were being made, and there was no particular interest in the matter. The "Biograph" part of the name had little significance, if any, until in the passage of time a young actor from Louisville, called Griffith, came to labor where labor had been little known and to wonder about the queer new job he had somewhat reluctantly fallen heir to.
The gentlemen of the real estate firm did some wondering too. Up to this time, the peace of their quarters had been disturbed only by the occasional lady-like afternoon concert of the Steck Piano Company. The few preceding directors of the American Mutoscope and Biograph Company had done their work quietly and unemotionally.
Now, whatever was going on in what was once "The Last Leaf's" gay and elegant drawing-room, and why did such shocking language drift through to disturb the conservative transactions in real estate!
"Say, what's the matter with you—you're dying you know—you've been shot and you're dying! Well, that's better, something like it! You, here, you've done the shooting, you're the murderer, naturally you're a bit perturbed, you've lots to think about—yourself for one thing! You're not surrendering at the nearest police station, no, you're beating it, beating it, you understand. Now we'll try it again—That's better, something like it! Now we'll take it. All right, everybody! Shoot!"
The neighborhood certainly was changing. The language!
