August 21, 1905 [Rescued by Rover]

The deranged beggar-woman in Rescued by Rover handily absconds with the baby—the nanny meeting her beau in the park, the two of them suffering from a convenient lack of peripheral vision as the old woman steals behind and makes off with the infant.

The following rescue by the dog is remarkable in its economy and sense of geography. The dog tracks the baby over land and water, breaks down a number of doors, finds the child, returns home and convinces the father to follow him—and we follow along, the same route traversed once more. The timing of the miniature adventure is brisk, the whole thing wrapped up in five minutes or so, a rousing romp with a sure trajectory.

As it happened, at home Pete lay on his stomach reading The Rover Boys in the Mountains. He's been making his way through these "books for wide-awake American lads" more or less dutifully for the past year or so. This is the fifth book, I believe, and his critique has remained constant: "They sound made up," he tells me without irony, "but they sure get into some scrapes." He perks up a bit at the memory of the brothers clambering hither and yon and running into miscreants, innocents, and objects of admiration and scorn—but he's not so sure he's a Rover Boy himself. Like Tom Sawyer, he prefers to play at being a pirate; to be actually lost in a cave is no fun at all. He well knows that the best adventures are "made up." The roving dog of the little film fits nicely into this invented world. He's as dependable as Tom, Sam, and Dick—and as ready to dive in and handle things.

I tend to agree with Pete, but I must admit that when we hesitate we perhaps miss our chance—and I suppose, then, it may be easy to shrug off the Rovers, if only to avoid the plunge; but what scrapes we miss when we remain behind.

To see the film, go HERE.