 Remember a Hallmark card when you carry enough to send the very best. The makers of Hallmark greeting cards bring you Deborah Carr in James Hilton's Goodbye, Mr. Chips on the Hallmark Playhouse. Tweet Hallmark will bring you Hollywood's greatest stars in outstanding stories chosen by one of the world's best known authors, the distinguished novelist, Mr. James Hilton. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is James Hilton. Tonight on our Hallmark Playhouse we present a dramatization of my own story, Goodbye, Mr. Chips. Now the story of Mr. Chips is that of a schoolmaster who grew old and beloved. And for this reason we've tried to tell it from the point of view of his wife, who never grew old at all. In her husband she saw not only the man whom she loved and who loved her, but the man who, by being his true self, could become in his own way great, and so indeed she helped him to it, and so indeed it happened. To play the part of Mrs. Chips we have invited that enchanting actress, Miss Deborah Carr. And now a word about Hallmark cards from Frank Goss before we begin the first act of Goodbye, Mr. Chips. May we remind you once again that for every occasion important to your friends and loved ones, there are Hallmark cards to carry your thoughts across the miles, across the years, or merely across the way. A Hallmark card says what you want to say, just the way you want to say it. And that identifying Hallmark on the back says that you cared enough to send the very best. Our star Deborah Carr is appearing tonight by arrangement with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, producers of the Technicolor picture Kim starring Errol Flynn, Dean Stockwell, Paul Lucas, and Robert Douglas. And now Hallmark Playhouse presenting James Hilton's Goodbye, Mr. Chips, starring Deborah Carr. Thirty-four years gentlemen, thirty-four years this month he's been bonding with me. And in all that time I can't think of him being a bedmore in two or three days. Mrs. Wicked, please don't talk right into his ear. He's trying to sleep, you know. Oh, I was forgetting, wasn't I? Dr. Marybale, would it be premature for you to chance an opinion? On Chips? No. There's nothing really wrong with him except Erno Domini. I should have liked knowing him better. Chips is a legend around Brookfield, you know. But when I came here as headmaster he'd been retired quite some years. Poor old chap. He must have lived a lonely sort of life all by himself. No, not always by himself. He married, you know. Oh, really? Why, I can't remember ever hearing Chips married. It was a long time ago. She was a very lovely woman, quite beautiful. It all began as so many important things begin by being thoroughly unimportant and a little ridiculous. I was on holiday in the Lake District. The hills and dales and lakes were a delight. Especially when seen from the summit of Great Gable. It required a good deal of climbing to reach that spot and I always celebrated my effort with shouts and waving of my arms to the countryside below. My shouts were answered. He was coming indeed, whoever he was, scrambling and stumbling from boulder to boulder. And then suddenly he sank to the ground. Quite all right perfectly sound. He returned by ankle. Oh, I'm sorry, but you shouldn't go leaping up a mountainside, you know. I heard you calling. You were in distress. I was in... Oh, good heavens! I was only shouting for joy. My dear young lady. Oh, now I am sorry. Here, let me help you up. Oh, fine business. Now you're rescuing me. I never expected to find a woman on a mountain top. No place to be. Nor for you with that ankle. You'd better lean on my arm as we go down. My dear young lady. You said that before. My name is Catherine Bridges. Now, take my arm. Miss Bridges, it is not the custom for men to lean on the arms of the weaker sex. By the way, the name is Chipping. How do you do, Mr. Chipping? Awkwardly. It is steep going down, isn't it? He discovered that we were both staying at Wasdale Head. So I told him I should look in the next day to see how his ankle was coming along. He was shocked at the idea. My dear Miss Bridges, young ladies do not call on lone men, especially men twice their ages. He even repeated it word for word the next afternoon. Not that I don't appreciate your solicitude, Miss Bridges. And since I was the cause of your accident, Mr. Chipping, you'll have to put up with my solicitude. Now, here are some books to keep your mind off that ankle. I peddled into the village for them. You peddled? You rode a bicycle? It's fun, isn't it? It's unnatural. Women on wheels. And why not? Our sex has a lot of ground to cover. We want to be admitted into the universities to have our say in politics. Yes, even to vote. Now, what do you say to that? Tell me, does your family approve of these issues? I have no family or job for that matter. My last employment was as a governess. I see. And you? Teacher, Brookfield School. Don't suppose you've heard of it? No, but I have. The son of one of my employers was there. His name was Purvis. Ah, Purvis, yes. Red-headed chap with freckles. Came in, uh, 86, I believe. Never spoke of old chips, did he? Oh, I like that. Like what? Your nickname. From now on, that's what I shall call you. Chips. Men such hopeless bores. And yet, here was chips. So old-fashioned. So shy. And yes, so much more interesting than any of the younger men I knew. His ankle slowly improved, but not as rapidly as our friendship. Then, one evening, I brought along my cello. Remarkable. Absolutely remarkable. A young radical who pedals a bicycle reads George Bernard Shaw and yet plays Chopin. It's remarkable. Not at all. Catherine. Yes? Tomorrow... Tomorrow is my last day here. I know. I, uh... I'll be going back to Brookfield. Teaching must be a splendid sort of life. Well... It must be. To know that all those boys of yours will grow up one day to use the knowledge you've given them. To have a part in the making of the future. Must make you very proud, Chips. Sometimes, yes. But, oh, I'm in a rut. A comfortable rut, to be sure. When I first went to Brookfield, I was on fire with ambition. Twenty years have shown me that's not enough to get on in the world. It takes brilliance, which I haven't got. Oh, Chips. You're apologizing for being you. Chips, if you were anything more than you are, I could never have dared to know you. And... And I should have hated that. But don't you see, I have nothing to offer, and I... Oh, confounded, I shouldn't even be talking to you like this. I'm old enough to be your father. Chips! Age separates people only when they aren't in love. I'm not ashamed to admit it. And you mustn't be. My dear... My dearest Catherine. We stopped off at London to be married. An aunt of mine lived there, and Chips took me in a handsome to her house the night before the wedding. On the doorstep, he pressed my hand. I have to say farewell, you know. I'm glad. Not frightened. No. Just solemn. I feel rather like a new boy beginning his first term with you. A little odd. Shall I call you, sir, or would Mr. Chips be the right thing? Mr. Chips, I think. By all means. Goodbye. Goodbye, Mr. Chips. In love with Brookfield, just as headlong as I had with Chips himself. Both were so right together. The century-old buildings, the yard, the school bell marking dinner, and call-over, and prep, and lights out. Call-over. That was my favorite. I would stand at our window and watch Chips there in the doorway of Big Hall. His gown flapping about his legs as he read off the names. James Webb? Yes, sir. Antwood? Yes, sir. Zabcock? With our new life together would be rather quiet, even retiring. But there, Chips surprised me. He looked forward to teas and evenings together with the other masters and their wives. That's a wonderful story, Chips. I must remember that one. And I must be off. Why, it's only 10 o'clock, Webb. Oh, will you listen to him, Mrs. Chipping? I must say, you've made a new man out of him. Really, Webb? Have you noticed a change? Oh, I should think so. Why, nowadays, when the boys come from your form to mine, like there's not there still tittering over something you've told them, you never used to do that, Chips. You see, Gavin. I refuse to be flattered. Well, I'm off. And it's been a fine evening. I'll see you to the door. Oh, Mrs. Chipping. Yes? Thanks so much for playing with cello for us. I enjoyed it immensely. Oh, that's very kind of you. We must do this again, Webb. Perhaps next week. Yes, I hope so. As often. Good night, Chips. Good night, Webb. I shall never forget it. It's selfish of me, but I don't like to think of anyone else enjoying it. It's ours. You're happy here at Brookfield, aren't you? I should be anywhere with you, Chips. With you and Brookfield, what more is there? Catherine, I... I'm not very good with words, you know. They seem such poor servants of the heart. I know, darling. Our love is like you yourself. From the first moment I met you, I felt your fineness. Every passing day has brought a new discovery. Turn to the second act of goodbye, Mr. Chips, starring Deborah Coughlin. A week or so, our calendars will show February 14th, the day that takes its name from a saint noted for his kindness. While it's interesting to have special days, we all enjoy the color and the pageantry associated with them. Actually, the underlying principle of Valentine's Day knows no season. Kindness is never out of date. We human beings are so made that kindness is necessary to our very existence. Without it, we'd soon lose courage and hope and the will to survive. Yet, doesn't it strike you as remarkable that such a big force can be set loose by such a little thing as a greeting card? Now, of course, I don't mean the greeting cards are the only key to kindness, indeed, no. But the sentiment that prompts the sending of cards is based on kindness. And the makers of Hallmark cards are proud that their product increases kindness in the world by making it easier for you and me to express our thoughtfulness and appreciation of other people on special days and every day. Now, back to James Hilton and the second act of goodbye, Mr. Chips, is the crown of happiness that can come to a man that he find the woman he loves and that she and he work to the same end, loving that work as well as each other for as long as life lasts and even afterwards. So it was with Chips at Brookfield. In 1997, Chips and I withdrew a bit from the social life at Brookfield. I was going to have a child. Naturally, he'll go to Brookfield, my dear, to think after all, hundreds of boys who've trooped through my classes. Now, one of them will be my own. Chips, dear. Well, I'll show no favoritism, mind you. I'll be more strict with him than any of the others. Chips, it might be a girl, you know. Cazen couldn't. Someday I may quote that to her. Well, of course, uh, if she were a girl like you, Kathy, uh, yes, that would be acceptable. And she'll go to Brookfield. A boy's school? There is no time to be technical. The rules can be changed. I see. It's high time women were admitted to our schools and universities. Why, Chips? Besides, it's going to be a boy. One spring evening, about sundown, it began to rain. Chips was especially gay. He was standing with his back to the fire, laughing at one of his own stories. Sir, sir, there was young Dunster hiding up in the auger loft, you see. Chips, dear. And, and when Ogilvy had just signaled the choir to begin. Chips! Don't you think it's funny? I think you'd better get Dr. Mary Vail. What happens, I didn't realize. Please, right away. Either of them. I don't like it at all. But it's got to be all right. It's got to be. I'm not frightened. That last night before we were married, it's the same feeling. A new boy beginning his first term. A little old. It said goodbye, but there was no goodbye in his heart or hers. Throughout the years that followed, she was with him. The long years lonely at first. The years of work, of life work. And each of them marked by the day's routine, day after day. I heard, aren't you, Chips? I remember the way you used to stamp up the stairs muttering to yourself. That meant somebody had hurt you. What's wrong, Chips? What was it? Sit down, Mr. Chipping. Sit down. Ibs told me it was something important. It is. Mr. Chipping. Have you ever thought you'd like to retire? It's occurred to me. Then I suggest that you consider it. I don't see why I should. Then I'll have to explain words, sir. Well, I've only been headmaster's at lunch. I think I can say that you're not pulling your weight here. You're a method of teaching a old-fashioned. Your personal habit, to be quite frank, I slovenly. Oh, I think... Look at that gown you're wearing. It's almost in shreds. Creates a bad impression on visiting parents. I see. I thought I was here to make an impression on their children. Mr. Chipping. It's one of the signs that you're growing old. You've been teaching Latin and Greek for so many years at your part and parcel of your dead languages. Dead languages, sir? Why don't you see, after Alson, you and I are wanting different things for Brookfield, you're out to make it the fashionable school. I don't care whether it's fashionable or not. Mr. Chipping. And why do I teach the dead languages, as you call them? To give my boys a sense of proportion. That's all. But that's everything. Mr. Chipping. So I don't intend to resign, and you can do what you like about it. Your boys will stand by you. The whole sky without you chips, Brookfield wouldn't be Brookfield. Great idea, sir. I couldn't hear how your speech went on what they all said. Well, Ralston wanted me to resign four years ago. I wasn't ready then. And for a moment tonight, when I did say goodbye, I wonder if I'd ever be ready. But I'm 65, Mrs. Wicked. It's 1913, 43 years. And now, it's time to rest. Master says to me, be good enough to ask Mr. Chips to call it my room at his earliest convenience. Well, whatever for, I wonder. Go Chips, go at once. Deep in your heart, you've been hoping someone would remember. And now with the war, the younger teachers joining the colors, your Brookfield boys need you more than ever. It was good of you to think of me, Mr. Chetris. Yes, of course I'll come back. Bottoms of things by the noise they make. Bottoms of years are not going to be snuffed out because some barbarian in the laboratory invents a new kind of mischief. I mean, at age 91, please. Yes, sir. In which the Germans busied themselves. A story, don't they, Chips? Even after peace came, and you resigned once more and went back across the road to Mrs. Wicked's. Those we could have seen together, Chips. So much has happened that only the living can understand. The peace conference which you argued over with Mr. Baxter. The general strike which distressed you. The Locano pact which encouraged you. All you've known and felt in these 35 years are but shadows to me. Ruffian, feeling all right? Hey, that was a fine shock you gave us. Dr. Maril. Good, right. What's happened? It seems you threw a faint. Mrs. Wicked came in and found you. Now you just take it easy. Go back to sleep if you want to. Sleep? Yes. Yes, Chips was married. Not long though. She died old before the turn of the century. Oh, that's a pity. A pity he never had any children. What was that you were saying? Nothing, Chips, nothing at all. I heard you say it was a pity. That's all right, Chips. It's all right. That's the day for the young in heart. The time when you can have a heart-to-heart talk with all those close to you. Sentimental? Of course. But is there one among us who doesn't respond to kindness and sentiment? Especially when it's done with the good taste you'll find on every Hallmark Valentine and sent in the true spirit of the day. At the store where you buy Hallmark cards you'll find Hallmark Valentine suitable for everyone close to you and everyone you want to remember, in addition to those in your immediate family, mother, dad, brother, sister, your favorite aunt and grandmother. There are Valentine's for those nice next door neighbors, for the sitter you can always depend on, for the friends you work with, for all your favorite children. And of course for that very special someone you want to say something special to, there are those delicate old-fashioned Hallmark Valentine's that carry us back to the days of crinoline and lace, the kind Grandmother received and treasured and showed you years later, remember? When you're buying Valentine's, don't forget the back of the car tells the story, too. If it's that familiar Hallmark, send it with pride, for then you know your friends know. You cared enough to send the very best. Here again is James Hilton. Thank you, Deborah Carr, for her most beautiful and memorable Mrs. Chips. Thank you, Mr. Hilton, and I'd like to thank Whitfield Connor for his fine performance with Mr. Chips. I've always loved the book. It's one of those warm and sincere stories that seem to get better each time we hear it. So it seems very appropriate for the Hallmark Playhouse, because I've noticed Hallmark cards have those same qualities. And now, what have you planned for next Thursday? Well, next Thursday is February 8th, and that's close to the 12th. And that's Lincoln's birthday. So I'd guess you're planning one of those wonderful stories about Abram Lincoln that have become a tradition on Hallmark Playhouse, right? Right, sure, certainly are, Deborah. We're doing Irving Bachelors story about Abraham Lincoln's youth, a man for the ages, and we've invited Joseph Cotton to be our star. Our Hallmark Playhouse is every Thursday. Our director-producer is Bill Gay. Our music is composed and conducted by Lynn Murray, and our script tonight was adapted by Leonard Sinclair. Until next Thursday then, this is James Hilton saying, Good night. There are so lonely in stores that have been carefully selected to give you expert and friendly service. Remember a Hallmark card when you'll care enough to send the very best. This is Frank Goss saying, Good night to you all until next week at the same time when Hallmark Playhouse returns to present Joseph Cotton in Irving Bachelors, A Man for the Ages, and the week following the story of Cinderella starring Judy Garland. And the week after that, Maxwell Anderson's Valley Forge on the Hallmark Playhouse. This is CBS, the Clumsy Abroad Casting. This is the Kansas City, Missouri.