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Twenty-Five years ago in Kansas City, Missouri, a small boy sat enchanted in a theater and watched a fantastic little play, then he left, his head whirled with the magic and romance of what he thought was surely the most wonderful story in the world. That is how "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs" really began. Because that was the time of the fantastic little play the boy saw. And the name of the boy was Walt Disney. For a score and more years, far back in his brain those same visions whirled and survived, the impression never vanished, though the boy grew up. And as he grew to be one of the greatest artists in the world, the insistent memories of childhood rapture demanded to be translated into his particular art. They grew into a dream. Three and a half years ago, Walt Disney started to make his dream come true. In those three and a half years he spent $1,500,000 to bring "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs" to the screen in exquisite color symphony. He employed 569 people who worked all day and frequently all night to finish it. He spent $70,000 developing a brand new camera to give it depth. He concocted 1500 different paints to give it unmatched color, and used enough to paint twenty-two five-room bungalows. He threw away four times the drawings he made and the film he shot. He made over 2,000,000 separate paintings that, placed end to end, would reach from New York to Pittsburgh. He used pencils that, stacked point to point, would tower above Mount Everest. […]