 Calling Frank Morgan in names on the land, on the Cavalcade of America, sponsored by the DuPont Company. Maker of better things for better living through chemistry. But first, here is Gain Whitman. One of the most inspiring things about Christmas is the way it brings us together in our thoughts. Under the sparkling lights of the Christmas tree, the family in California and the family in Maine are thinking much the same thoughts this evening. Feeling the same pleasure and tenderness, the same goodwill. And the men and women of the DuPont Company derive a little extra joy from the thought that many of the things which add pleasure to your Christmas are made possible or made better by chemistry. We find in such a thought the broader meaning of the DuPont phrase, better things for better living through chemistry. Frank Morgan appears through the courtesy of Metro Golden Mayor and is one of the stars of the MGM picture, Yolanda and the Thief. The DuPont Company presents names on the land, starring Frank Morgan as the train conductor on the Cavalcade of America. Millions of lights twinkle on the Christmas trees tonight in the little towns across our land which are home to the people who live there. And there are many, many Americans who were at home in those little towns this Christmas Eve for the first time in long, weary years. The names of some of those towns are as familiar as the Morning Newspaper and some you've probably never heard of. So, this first peacetime Christmas Eve, the Cavalcade of America takes you on an imaginary train ride, swooping all over the country, seeking out the names of places which stand for home in such a special way tonight. The names on the land. Frank Morgan, your conductor on tonight's mythical train ride, will not only call out the stopping places, but in addition will tell you how some of the names actually came into being. How, where you're going, got that way. This train follows old St. Nick tonight, goes everywhere, you see. A steamed up alphabetical train that runs from A to Z. Alicell, Bangor, Cairo, DLL, Paso. Fiddletown, Great Salt Lake, Happy Creek, or Igo. Jackass, Gulch, Knife Creek, Lovers, Leeper, Mudville. Neversink, Ono, Pigeon Rooster, Quack Hill. Rabbit's ear, Seacock, Tickle Naked, Unwag. Verdello, or why not X-ray, Yonka, Zigzag. Screamerville, that's where I'm going. Surely you heard of that. Excuse me, lady. I haven't got much time to stand around and chat. But before I let you on this train, now don't be highfalutin'. Did you give that there town its name? Screamerville? You're darn tootin'. Okay, lady. That's what I figured. Step lightly up inside. Don't need no ticket. You've named a town. That's the price of a ride. This train goes down the alphabet from Abbeyville to Zion. And if we don't hit your town, it won't be for lack of trying. The men and women on this train are here for just one reason. They've wandered up and down our land, both thin and out of season. Exploring it and founding towns and giving each a name. A name that's stuck down through the years and brought each place its fame. They'll tell you when and how and why each of his own accord. And now we're ready for the letter A, as I said before. Boop! The name of Renown and A's for Altadena. A name jotted down by a real estate agent. He wanted to sell many acres of land. Then there's Alice Hell, named for a lady. But this train's first pause is at Animus. Just unaccountably caused. Animus? That's my stuff. Though I don't much want to get off here, once was enough. Your business, sir? Retired now. With a cowboy then. Was with a Mexican friend of mine. Riding over some of the hottest and driest country of this side of... Yeah, you know where. Was looking for water, of course, when we finally found some. We found something else, too. Amigo, do you see what I see? Looks like a crook. It looks as though we're not the first to find this water, Amigo. Skeletons. Two of them. Been here some time, I judge. Look at those pistols. They've been here for over 100 years under this sun. These two men, Amigo, I do not have envy for them. Nor for their souls. Where was the priest to say a Hail Mary for them, huh? Well, but it's any harder where their souls are than it is right here. It is harder, Amigo. Well, at least we can pay a little honor to these two, huh? We call this place El Rio de las Animus Partidas Empacatorio. What's all that mean? Well, animus means souls. The river of the souls lost in purgatory. Okay, okay, I'll just call it animus. Next stop, tonight, especially, B stands for Bethlehem. But B also stands for Bangalore and Back Bay, Barnagat and Baton Rouge, Bebe and Bear Wallow, Big Shot and Burton Hand, Bogus Tunder and Bosky Dell, Brandy Gulch and Bridalveil, Butcher Knife and Bunker Hill, Brooklyn and Bloody Point. Bloody Point? See, that's the place where two strong men stood face to face and swore and shouted and waved their hands as to what divided their two lands. Boundary's the brook. Boundary's that patch other side of the brook. I said it's the brook and so does my sword. Sword, is it? Oh, I'll give you your sword and fight you bare-handed and trim you too. Well, go on, then. Start something. You can be sure I'll finish it, too. Well, then go on. Well, cross that line. What line? That one there. I'll show you what's what. Derry, knock this chip off my shoulder. I'll cross that line all right and fast, too. Well, I will knock the chip off if you're not careful. Well, why don't you? Well, I will when I'm ready. Well, go on. I will. Don't worry. Talk big, they did, and yell and frowned, but no drop of blood ever stained the ground. Their neighbors grinned and christened the joint. To honor the combat, it's called Bloody Point. C stands for... C stands for Christmas. Christmas? Yes, stands for Christmas border and Christmas Arizona, too. It does, huh? Well, can't stop there. What? Well, not tonight, son. It's too soon. Besides, think how busy they are in those towns just answering mail tonight. Hundreds of thousands of letters. But, Mr. Conductor... This train will stop there, son, but not till midnight. C stands for Chili Gulch and Chimney Peak. C stands for Christian Flat and Chippokies Creek. It's Chucklehead Diggins and Cold Kid Creek. It's Chickpea China and Cottonwood Creek. It's Curry Heigh Mountain and Cutthroat Bar. It's Crazy Smith Hill and Climbing Star. It's Cicero. It's Cato. It's Cairo and Cleo. Next stop, D. There's not many towns that begin with D. Excuse me, ma'am, if I disagree, there's Della Rosa, Darrington, Danville, Dallas, Devil's Den, Downs, Sockham 2 and Darrison, Dyle, Dayton, Dome and Duxen. Yes, plenty of towns that begin with D where folks are trimming their Christmas tree. There's Dutch Flat 2 and there's Dog Demona. There's Diggins' Hundred, Dry and Distoma. You make it very difficult. Difficult? Difficult? Now, let me see. Yes, sir. That's another that begins with D. Difficult? Did I hear you all say difficult? That's where I get off. Do you name that town? Well, I'm afraid I... Maybe. You see, I was postmaster of our town and it didn't have no name at all. Well, sir, the boys around the store, the general store, we all got together and figured out a grand name. What was it? No, I wouldn't. Dast tried to pronounce it. It was a long, fine sounding name tucked from the engines that used to live around our neighborhood. So, in a ways, we wrote the share letter down the name of the town, piece of paper, all neat and pretty, and sent it to Washington to get official approval. Two weeks, so go by, and big official envelope come back. It's our answer. Addressed to you, John. Go on, tear it open. Sure looks official, don't it? That's the right big envelope. Oh, now don't go on talking about it open. Well, I'm a gooder. What's it say? Not so fast. Not so fast. I'm a reading it. Well? Well, it says here that... It's from my smart long words in the share letter. Well, read it. Well, from what I see here, first it says they reject our suggestion for a name for the town. Reject? Fine, talk. They go on and they say here the name suggested for your town is difficult. Difficult? Difficult? Seems funny, don't it? That's what it says here, though. The name suggested for your town is difficult. Huh. Well, government, government. Difficult they say it is, and difficult Tennessee it'll be. No passengers for E-F-R-G, but I'll give you a kind of pope for E. I'll identify him as we go by him. That's Eden we're now passing through. Took an advertising man to propose it. This was called Enola after much ado. Bell's alone if you transpose it. Next on the E-Line is 84. For the date when it was founded. And here's Elmonica. What's that name for? Ah, they just like the way it sounds. Here's the F-Line. F-E-F. Sure enough, here comes the F-Line. Whole string of towns begin with F whose names got quotability. Like funny Louis frying pan, flyaway fertility. Being their stockings in Finnegan's Lane where the frost left its mark on the window pane. In Foxboro... Mr. Conductor, here we come to the G's. And there's one town I'll name if you please. Young lady, I hereby name you a committee of one to tell us the name of your city. Gene Autry, Oklahoma, we call our town. Named after the cowboy of great renown. Thank you, ma'am. Now just go up there, take a seat and sit while I cogitate on the next letter in the alphabet. Hater, hater, hater, hater, hater, hater, hater, hater. Well, that shouldn't be so hard. Let's see. Ah, I've got it. Ain't I a card? This program comes to you as a Christmas program should from the NBC studios out in... Hollywood. You were listening to Frank Morgan as the conductor and names on the land on the capital gate of America sponsored by the DuPont Company. Maker of better things for better living through chemistry. All our passengers are once more aboard our Christmas train. Steam pressure is up and we're off on the second leg of our swift journey across America on this peacetime Christmas Eve. If this alphabetical train of ours has ever to get to Z we've got to cut down the repartee and also the fiddly-dee. Boy, should you ask me what I stands for? Ask which towns start with this letter. I will answer you in trochies suited best for Indian powwow. Paying tribute to the red man first to name our hills and rivers, name our states and towns and mountains, such as Idaho and Illinois and Ichi Pukkasasa, Indian Creek and Indian Bottom, these and also Indianapolis. Also till I stand corrected was a red man named Itasca, named it and... You stand corrected, sir. How's that? The word Itasca is no Indian word. Oh, your name, sir? Schoolcraft, sir. Henry R. Schoolcraft. The fact of the matter is, sir, that I and a friend of mine, Reverend William T. Bulkwell, being both of us in a canoe and both in search of the headwaters of the Mississippi, called by the Indians, or Mushkos, or in our tongue, Elk Lake. Elk? Yes. Having decided that this lake was the true source of the Mississippi, the Reverend Mr. Bulkwell suggested he was a Latin scholar, sir. Suggested that this lake was the... Veritas Caput. Caput? A Latin train, which being translated roughly means... True source? Uh, exactly. It was I who then ingeniously, if I may say so, clipped the head off the first word, the tail off the second in a rag, thusly I... I know Itasca. Uh, precisely. On behalf of the letter J, introducing a former president named Jefferson, and a former president named Jackson. Okay, gentlemen. Well, sir, counting all the Jeffersons, the Jefferson cities, the Jefferson barracks, the Jefferson junctions, and Jefferson bills, I make it 41 times that my name has been put to a town or city in this fair country. 41? A nice number for a beginner. Me, I got 53 towns and cities named after me. Jackson's my name. Oh, excuse me, gentlemen. What were you discussing? Just figuring who has more towns named after him, Jefferson, Jackson. Here's a so, uh, I went out okay. 53. 53? Why, sir, I was never a president, but there are 58 towns named after me. And what pray tell, sir, is your name? John, sir. Just plain John. Passengers for Kanaka, KC, Careless Knob, Kill Creek, Kind Woman's Care, and Kitatini, New Year's Chums. That is, if you want to get home before Santa Claus comes. Next stop, Kansas City. Kansas City? That's me. Let me off. Hold on, young man. One moment, please. Your story first. How'd you name this town? Well, in 1838, this was only a piece of land in a general store, and there was maybe a dozen others got together after we bought this land, and the ferry land, and where the cork comes into the Missouri. Place Me Wet was in one-eyed Ellis' general store. Gentlemen, gentlemen, a little order, please. Any more suggestions for the name of our town? How about calling it Rabbitsville? A serious suggestion. All right, if that ain't serious enough, how about Possum Trot? It was in the Missouri just a piece of shreem. Why don't we call the place Carl's Mouth? It's a rare pretty name, and it's historical, and it goes back to the old engine name. Original engine name wasn't Carl. Original Indian name was Kansas. What's wrong with that for a name? We're going to have a city here before we know it, and our move, we call it Kansas City. All passengers for Ladies' Canyon, Laughing Gal, Lazy Lady, Laos Creek, and Movistar. Change at Third Depot. All passengers for Milk Punch, Mud Creek, Mini Ha Ha, and Murderers Bar. Change here to hang your mistletoe. Now, man, cow, rock, and Morgantown. Morgantown. Well, there's a place of great renown. I can tell you how it got its name. It was an ancestor of mine of tremendous fame. My grandfather, Lewiston Boone Morgant, Laos Creek, to naked mountain and airy red, to another hundred and never sink, to Nicodemus and Nipple Butte, to none such a notch log, to Newport. Newport? Newport? Well, that's my town, Newport, Texas. You named it? Well, sort of, kinda. That's my town when we were starting it. There were seven of us. The other six all wanted a name to have for them. Their name would have to anybody but me. My name's your name. Who was here first? That's all I asked. Hi-D, fellas. Your name is Norman, and yours is E-Zell. Yours is Welch, and yours is Pruitt, and yours is Owsley, and yours is Ryger. And yours is Turner, right? All right now, you take the first letters of each name and what you got. Let's figure it out. That's a nice name. Name of our town is Newport. We come to let her old. Must we go? Well, sis, we can pause just now and then, but weren't you through with friendly N? No. N stands for North Pole and for Northland. That's where Santa lives, I understand. And Santa's little people. Don't you remember? They worked so hard for the month of December. Absolutely right, Mr. Conductor. You mean to say you forgot all about the Northland? And Santa Claus worked sharp with the North Pole? Think back a bit. Don't you recall Santa's little people at their work benches all day and all night making toys and painting dolls? Come on now, Mr. Conductor. You remember them? Working under those North Lights and the little people singing while they worked? Here we go in the snow making games and toys. Here we go in the snow making games and toys. Coating sleds and dollies beds for good little girls and boys. Of course. Thanks for reminding me. Merry Christmas to you. Thanks, and Merry Christmas to you too. Oxy-boxy is our O and pigsty is our P. And while we're at it, just to show that Q's no absentee, is Quokwinopasichesamanagnog. Quokwinopasichesamanagnog. You a gog? I am too. R stands for rabbits ears and rattle and snap and also for Richville, the poorest town on the map. And ours for the town where a preacher named Dow gave a sermon that led to reform and how. Reform they did and reform it became and that's how the town of reform got its name. Yes, next stop, the letter S. Gladly, Madam, to shout. And S stands for something else too. S stands for Strange Creek. Strange Creek. Who are you? My name is Strange. I'm a surveyor. Years ago. War years than man can number. I separated from my companions and was lost in the forest. Years later, more years than man can number. I was found 40 miles from where I'd last been seen. My bones beneath a great beach tree. My rifle leaned against the trunk. The shot pouch still dangling. And men read in the trees smooth bark, the words I'd cut with a knife. Strange is my name in a monstrange ground. And strange it is, I can't be found. T, the letter T. T stands for a town down in Texas. Total population of 20. They'll thank you to smother your sneers. For this town, 20 is plenty. On Pearl Harbor Day, its name was Tokyo. Today, its name is still Tokyo. My name is Mrs. Aira Green. I'm assistant postmaster of Tokyo, Texas. People used to ride and ask, well, we're going to change the name of our town. Well, our aim in the war was to change the other Tokyo. Not this one. Any passengers for you? Any passengers for you cross? You, Sona. Utica, Utopia. Any passengers for V? Any passengers for Marine? Vernal Fall, V-Bay, Volca. Say, conductor. I'm getting off here. Well, you better be careful. The snow's pretty deep. Won't bother me, sir. Merry Christmas. Donna and Blitzen. Wonder who that is. If I didn't know. To all about, want water, the wart, to who song, whiskey bar, wolf pit, to why not. You say, why not? Why not? That's me. My town's why not. Well, how come it's why not? Why not? Xerxes and Xena and Xenia twice and, believe it or not, X-ray. And, or did you guess, by special decree, X-mas. Now we finish the X's, X-mas suffice. Blow the whistle. We're on our way. This train is at its next to last stop. We've come to the letter Y. A century ago, a man named a name. He's here now to tell you why. It was March of 1851, and I was acting as interpreter for a band of California mounted militia chasing some hostile Indians up into the Sierra Nevada's. Well, toward the close of day, we come suddenly to the brink of a chasm. It's all about the shadows and mists. As I looked, a peculiar exalted sensation seemed to fill my whole being, and I said to one man, we should give this valley a name. A name? Yeah, a Christian name. Well, maybe you're right at that. Well, what's your idea for a name? Something out of the Bible? Something romantic? Something Spanish sounding? No, I'd suggest an Indian name. An Indian name? Are you crazy? Why should we name it after the guys were chasing? We might associate with the place, the name of the Indians whom we'd pursue to this magnificent spot. We call the question. The eyes have it. This valley will be called the Yosemite. Last stop, the Lenneseed. The Bible tells the tale of Lot who fled from sin and greed. Men of goodwill in later days sought haven for their creed. They built their town in wilderness, named it from Bible law. The sun was risen in the earth when first they entered Zor. So our trains gone down the alphabet from Animas to Zor. We stopped as often as we could, wish we could have more. In most of the towns we've managed to get to, and in most of the ones we had to forget to, the men have returned. Best possible Christmas present so far as we're all concerned. Well, ring the bell. This Christmas train shoves off the air in just four minutes flat. Time left to hang our mistletoe and let it go at that. We hope you liked America wrapped up in tinsel brite. To each one, Merry Christmas and to all, a fun good night. Then we'll return to our cavalcade microphone in a moment. Here's Gane Whitman. There was a star. What was more, it was a new star. It sparkled there in the clear blue night sky like a diamond lamp. Anybody could see it. There it was for everybody to see. But only a few men who looked up and saw it understood what it meant. Peace can be ours, they thought, recognizing its sign. And they went to make ready gifts to lay at the feet of the newborn babe who lay asleep in the manger. Because they knew what the star signified, we call them the wise men. We look at the world around us today and we ask, peace? Where is peace? And we are saddened. Or we feel that the world can have peace only when there is peace in every man's heart. And that time is not yet. But people said much the same thing in the day of the three wise men. Only the wise men saw the star and recognized its meaning. There is the moral. We shall have peace when we become wise. We shall have peace when we become wise in dealing with our neighbors at home and our more remote neighbors across the sea. Wisdom is the star in the heavens to which we must turn this Christmas. In the words of a great American, with malice stored none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right God gives us to see the right. And now, here is Frank Morgan. Now we had a lot of fun tonight, I hope you did too. Next week, for its New Year's Eve broadcast, Cavalcade is prepared for your pleasure a play of the Old West, a fast-moving, suspenseful tale of the early Texas cow country. Walter Brennan will be on hand as your star. Take a tip from me and plan now to set aside a half an hour in your evening to listen to ten in Texas starring Walter Brennan on the DuPont Cavalcade of America. Merry Christmas, everybody. Music for tonight's DuPont Cavalcade was composed and conducted by Robert Armbruster. A Cavalcade play was written by Peter and Jane Lyon, it was based on the book Names on the Land by George Stewart. This is Gain Whitman extending to you on this Christmas Eve warm and friendly holiday greetings for myself, for the artists, writers and technicians who bring you Cavalcade each Monday night. And for all the men and women of the DuPont Company, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. This is the National Broadcasting Company.