 The Irene Dunn Fred McMurray Show. Starring Irene Dunn as Susan and Fred McMurray as George. Together in a gay new exciting comedy adventure, Bright Star. It's the Irene Dunn Fred McMurray Show. Starring Irene Dunn as Susan Armstrong, owner and editor of the Hillsdale Morning Star, and Fred McMurray as George Harvey, the paper's ace reporter. And when the editor and ace reporter are both covering a city council meeting, a big story must be breaking. What's this all about, Susan? I've told you, George, I have no idea. Mr. Briggs phoned that he was addressing city council, but there'd be a big story in it. Briggs wouldn't know a big story if it bit him right in the middle of his big stuffed shirt. George is one of the paper's largest advertisers. He might have something important to say. I was the first time, I suppose. The council has been called in special session this afternoon to have a project put before us by that well-known Hillsdale philanthropist, Mr. Briggs. Council members, fellow citizens, no doubt most of you are aware of my concern with the continued growth and beautification of Hillsdale, past this growing little city in the southwestern part of the state. In line with this concern, I have long deplored the appearance of Beaver Park, an unlovely stretch of ground inhabited only by an unsightly baseball diamond, a dilapidated statue of an obscure general Beaver, and the inevitable pigeons. Why Beaver Park is a beautiful place, George. It's traditional. Why it's... Remember, one of our largest advertisers is speaking. But I am prepared today to make a proposition. At my own expense, I shall remove from city-owned Beaver Park the ball diamond, the statue, and the inevitable pigeons, and shall cause to grow there instead of veritable wonderland. The Wilbur R. Briggs sunken Japanese garden. Can't do that, George. Change the name of Beaver Park. Remove the general statue. Can't do that. Would you like to make a small wager? Council has heard the generous offer of Mr. Briggs. If there is no objection to its acceptance. I have an objection. I beg your pardon? Susan, take it easy. He's a big space buyer. I said, Mr. Mayor, that I have an objection. I should like to ask Mr. Briggs some questions. I'm afraid that's out of order, Mr. Armstrong. Better talk, Mr. Mayor. I'm interested. Watch out, Susan. His fangs are showing. Mr. Briggs, are you offering any recreational facilities to the children of Hillsdale to take the place of the baseball diamond you propose to put under water? Well, let them go hunt up a vacant lot somewhere. I see. And do you propose to put any other statue in the place of General Beaver? Not right away, no. In time, of course. If there is a popular demand that my feature has been memorialized in marble, the will of the people might overcome my own reticence in this matter. And do you intend to commercialize this new Briggs gardens in any way? Certainly not. On the contrary, I intend to set up a caravan tower from which uninterrupted music would float out over the gardens with only occasional reminder every 15 minutes or so that this whole thing is being made possible by continued purchase of Briggs products. Perhaps an operatic singing commercial. Oh, brother. Mr. Mayor, members of council. Beaver Park, the ball diamond, and General Beaver are all part of the tradition of Hillsdale. I move that Mr. Briggs's proposal be flatly rejected. However, in view of your determined attitude on this matter, perhaps it might be well to table the proposal prior to further discussion. Is that agreeable to you, Mr. Briggs? Watch out, Susan. Here comes Briggs. You don't think he's angry with me? Oh, no, not at all. Miss Armstrong. Yes, Mr. Briggs? Miss Armstrong, I'm containing myself. Well, that's certainly nice of you. Containing myself, but with difficulty. Miss Armstrong, I assume that you will assert your feminine prerogative of changing your mind very shortly. Well, because if you don't, you and your star reporter here may soon find yourselves out in Beaver Park with the pigeons. Good morning, Susan. Good morning, George. George, I've been thinking about yesterday. I guess I could have been more diplomatic with Mr. Briggs. True, Susan, true. And after all, there are two sides to every question. Well, I feel as though I'm deserting General Beaver in the face of the enemy, but... It'll make you feel any better, Susan. The general can move in with me. I've always wanted a roommate who doesn't snore. Come in. Miss Armstrong? Yes. Won't you come in? Thank you. My name is Penworthy, Miss Armstrong. Torres Penworthy. Not the Virginia Penworthies, but the New England Penworthies. Ah, I see. Well, this is Mr. Harvey, Mr. Penworthy, and a reporter on our paper. Torres Penworthy. Harvey? Of the ship-holding Harvey? Well, more of the toy boat Harvey's. Oh. Miss Armstrong, I was privileged to hear your stirring defense of General Beaver in City Council yesterday. Magnificent. Simply magnificent. Well, thank you. But I might have been a little hasty. Beaver blood. I beg your pardon. Beaver blood. Miss Armstrong, you kept me up all night last night, but I don't regret a minute of it. Well... Something about your earlobes gave me the clue. Behold. What is that? I am a bookkeeper by force of circumstance, Miss Armstrong, but a genealogist by application. I have placed completely your family tree. Well, where am I? You are this tender shoot, here at the top, but at the bottom, the sturdy root from which you spring. Here is that mighty soldier, saviour of his country, citizen-stakesman General Polly Beaver. General Polly Beaver! Wait a minute. Do you mean that Miss Armstrong and General Beaver are related? Without the shadow of a doubt, here's her true progenitor. Well, this is all very interesting, but I think that... And to think that I was almost ready to compromise principle for commercial advantage in the case of my own true ancestor. Now, Susan, wait. Just because there might possibly be a remote connection between you and General Beaver is no reason for you... George! Betray my own ancestor? Well, how could I? It's easy. All you have to do... Never! And if Wilbur R. Briggs thinks that he can destroy Beaver Park, he's got another thing coming. General! I am here! Bravo. Spoken like a true beaver. If she starts gnawing down trees, we're through. And while it is not the policy of this paper to blindly resist change, in this case we must raise the questions. Would the citizens of Hillsdale be happier with a baseball diamond or a sunken garden? The songs of pigeons or of singing commercial? The statue of a noble war hero or the marble image of a stuffed shirt? There can be but one answer. Save Beaver Park. Welcome, Japanese garden. Off a certain definite advantage. To make a hasty decision against Mr. Briggs, what a poor... Morning, Miss Susan. How do you want your eggs fried, coddled or scrambled? Oh, scrambled, I guess, patients. I'm in a sort of a confused mood. Why? Didn't we win? Haven't we saved your noble ancestor, General Beaver? Yes, but now I'm worried about the paper. The newspaper editor just can't campaign against her advertisers and expect them to... Who could that be? It could be Gregory Peck, but I'll bet on George. Anybody home? It's George. We're in here. Hi, Susan. Oh, good morning, patients. Breakfast, Mr. Harvey? No, no time. What if you do happen to have some bacon and a few eggs? I knew you wouldn't let me down. Anything wrong, George? Plenty. They had a message at the paper this morning. Wilbur R. Briggs is on his way down and he says he wants to have a showdown with you personally. Oh, dear. What are you going to tell him, Susan? And George, I just can't visit General Beaver. Well, he's the only hero we've ever had in our family. All right. There's only one way to handle this thing, then. Psychology. Call his bluff. Face him down. Look him right in the eye and... Now, you're not getting psychology and mixed up with lion-paming. You're the same principle. Just convince him you're a boss and you'll have a meeting right out of your hand. Well, suppose I can't convince him. Well... I know. Look. No hands. Hi, Mr. Harvey. There's a man waiting in your office, Miss Armstrong. I guess this is it, George. Think I ought to go in with a chair and a whip? Just face him down, Susan. Remember, I'm right behind you. Thanks a lot. Well, here goes. Mr. Briggs, I know exactly what you're going to say and before you do, I've got one or two things that I want... Why, Mr. Briggs, you've changed. Good morning, Miss Armstrong. Some lion. How are you, Mr. Penworthy? Just fine, Mr. Harvey. I stopped in to tell Miss Armstrong that I'm writing up her case in the Dineality Journal. I do a regular column. Out on the limb with Penworthy. And I... I'm very flattered, Mr. Penworthy, but right at the present, I'm... Uh-oh, Susan. The lion. Come in. Miss Armstrong, I have a few things to say to you and I intend to say them as quickly as possible. Talk right up to him, Susan. Mr. Briggs. Why? I've taken a civic-spirited, unselfish gesture on my part and so perverted it as to make me an object of scorn and hatred in the community. Look him right in the eye. Mr. Briggs. Two, unless you immediately cease this ridiculous campaign on the behalf of Beaver Park, I shall not only withdraw all of my advertising, but advise my numerous business connections in Hillsdale to do likewise. Do I make myself perfectly clear? Are you aware, Mr. Briggs, that Miss Armstrong is a limial descendant of General Beaver? I, sir, would much sooner be descended from a horse seat. Good day. Which way'd the go? Susan, I think he out-bluffed you. Don't worry, Miss Armstrong. I know that somewhere General Parley Beaver is looking down and smiling. Mr. Penworthy, I only wish that I had inherited the general sense of humor. MUSIC And now back to our stars Irene Dunn and Fred McMurray and the second act of our story. Irene, as Susan Armstrong, has not been helped at all by some advice from her star reporter friend. Now that is George Harvey. As a result, we find our female Hamlet debating whether to have integrity and no newspaper or a newspaper and not too much integrity. To be... Problems, Miss Armstrong? Problems, Danny. Is Mr. Harvey still around? I think he left. Well, that's one less problem. I heard about you defying Mr. Briggs, Miss Armstrong. Just better to die on your feet than live on your knees. Well, you see, I haven't reached the final decisioners yet, Sammy. I know what it'll be, Miss Armstrong. You'll defend the right, even though it costs you everything. Yes, but if I lose all my advertising, I might even lose the paper. He who steals my purse steals trash. Well, that's one way of looking at it. Miss Armstrong, though the choice seems hard, years from now you'll be able to look back and say, this was my finest hour. Sammy, if this is my finest hour, I sure haven't got much of a future. Good evening, patients. Miss Armstrong home? Still down at the paper, Mr. Harvey. I think she's writing an editorial. Oh, well, I guess I better not wait. Oh, come on in. Mr. Penworthy's here. Mr. Who? The genealogist. Oh, yeah. Mr. Penworthy, you know Mr. Harvey. Hello, Mr. Penworthy. Oh, yes, indeed. The steam engine Harvey's, wasn't it? Well, one or two of them may have gotten into hot water, but not through choice. You can stay, Mr. Harvey, but that joke will have to go. Just a moment of weakness, patients. Something new in Miss Armstrong's family tree, Mr. Penworthy? One or two very interesting shoots. Very interesting. Have you ever traced your lineal descent, Mr. Harvey? Me? I never have. I'm probably related to the lost dolphin of France or something. I've always felt that I might have royal blood in my veins. And Miss Susan doesn't give in to Briggs. You're going to need every drop of it. Miss Armstrong will never give in. What did her forebear General Beaver say at the Battle of New Orleans? The enemy outnumbers us ten to one. Our ammunition is low. Our line is pierced through and through. They're going forward. That's Susan all right, just as pigheaded as he was. And I imagine that even now she seated at her tightrope and tapping out a fervent appeal to her fellow citizens to save Beaver Park. In viewing the proposed change of Beaver Park into the Wilbur R. Briggs sunken Japanese gardens, one must be guided by one principle alone, that there are two sides to every question. While this paper is not retrieving one inch from any stand which it may have taken, the right to change one's opinion must be guarded zealously. And with this in mind, the Hillsdale Morning Star continues to move fearlessly sideways. No doubt by now all of you have read the latest editorial in the Hillsdale more of this quality to guide you. Excuse me, is the other half of this bench taken? Oh, hello George. You sure you want to sit down? I'm democratic. I had a hard time finding you. I returned to the scene of my crime, Beaver Park. Well, the general doesn't seem to mind. How are you, General? He can't object. He's a relative. Does everybody hate me, George? I'm trying to do the right thing, but I have to think of you and the paper and Sammy and all the others. What'll I do? That's a tough question. I wonder what he would have done in a crisis like this. Would he have written that editorial saying there's two sides to every question? No. I guess not. Would he have knuckled under to Wilbur R. Briggs, allowed him to take the ballpark away from the kids? I doubt it. Would he have compromised principle for the sake of material gain? Never. Never. No. My proud ancestor would hurl defiance in the teeth of Wilbur R. Briggs. Temporize, vacillate, compromise. Farley Beaver never knew the meaning of those words. He would say now, as he said to his troops at the bloody battle of New Orleans, the enemy outnumbered us ten to one. Our ammunition is low. Our line is clear through and through. We're going forward. George. Hidgen. Charles. Maybe I'm strong. Mr. Harvey, Mr. Briggs just phoned. Oh, he did, did he? Said he was coming down in person for his answer. Well, he'll get it. Better dig yourself a foxhole, Sammy. A foxhole? General Beaver is going into battle. Sir, Mr. Penworthy's here. He wanted to see you, Mr. Harvey. Me? What for? He didn't say. He's in Miss Armstrong's office. Come on, George. Let's see what he wants. I'd like to have everything cleared for action when Wilbur R. Briggs arrives. Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Harvey, I've certainly got news for you, Mr. Harvey. Really? What news? How about your family tree? Behold. What is that? Here. Here you are at the top in fine print. But at the bottom, the main trunk from which you sprang is definitely undeniably the lost dog, son of Louis XVI, heir to the throne of France. No. Me? Royalty? Well, what do you know? My studies prove conclusively, Mr. Harvey, that... Excuse me, just a minute, Mr. Penworthy. George, you didn't at any time indicate to Mr. Penworthy a desire to be descended from French royalty. Excuse me, are you trying to... Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I did mention it, facetiously, of course. I thought so. Mr. Penworthy, do you base your researches into people's ancestry on whom they are actually descended from or on whom they want to be descended from? Why, their personal desire is, of course, Miss Armstrong. That's my hobby, making people happy. And it's much nicer to be descended from someone you like and admire. Don't you agree? Well, yes, but... Then Susan isn't actually connected with General Beaver at all. In the strict genealogical sense, no. But in the Penworthy system, definitely yes. Susan, you're risking your paper for a general who's a total stranger. That's true, isn't it? But you know, it doesn't really matter, George. The principle is still the same. But don't you think that... It's too late for thinking. That must be Briggs. Well, the same cozy little gathering. Well, he'll come in, Mr. Briggs. Of course. You, uh, you've reached a decision, Miss Armstrong. I have. Good. And you're withdrawing your opposition to the Wilbur R. Briggs sunken Japanese gardens. No. No? Touch one green hair on General Beaver's head, Mr. Briggs, and the morning star will lead the aroused populace of Hillsdale to the rescue. In other words, go sell your figs, Briggs. And that goes double for me. You leave me no choice, Miss Armstrong. Consider my advertising contract with you canceled. Before I get through with your paper, Miss Armstrong, I... Mr. Briggs, do I know you? Oh, Mr. Pemworthy, a distinguished genealogist. Oh. As I was saying, Miss Armstrong... I've got something I've been wanting to show you, Mr. Briggs. Some other time. As I was... Here. What's that? A genealogical study of your family, Mr. Briggs. I've been working on it night and day. Well, I'm sure that's very nice, but I... Anything interesting? Oh, I'm sure there is. He worked out our trees. George. Anything interesting, Mr. Pemworthy? Oh, very good. You see, facing the main stem along here, Mr. Briggs, we come to the one responsible for the entire Briggs family in this country. Waldo Briggs. Waldo, eh? Pretty important, eh? Oh, yes. 4,000 people turned out when they hung him. Hung him? No, horse thieves. Why, Mr. Briggs, you said yourself you'd rather be related to a horse thief than to General Beaver. Now aren't you happy? I will be glad to give the story full coverage in the paper, Mr. Briggs. It'll create a lot of goodwill for you among horse thieves. Uh, Mr. Pemworthy. Miss Armstrong, is there any need for publicity on this thing? Well, uh, public benefactors such as you, Mr. Briggs, a man worthy to have a part named after him. Everything about you is news. Yes. But you see, Mrs. Briggs is a little peculiar, shall we say, on the subject of my family, and perhaps I was a bit hasty. General Beaver has always had my profound respect. Eight Japanese gardens, anyway. We, uh, we consider the matter closed. Well, what do you think, George? Well, uh, one thing Beaver Park needs, Mr. Briggs, a drinking fountain near the baseball diamond. Why, yes, of course, be most happy. The, uh, the Wilbur R. Briggs Memorial Fountain, the Horace Penworthy Memorial Fountain. In honor of a truly great man. Oh, not really, Miss Armstrong. All I want to do is make people happy. You're happy, Mr. Briggs? Me? Of course. Never been happier. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. I could die. Our stars Irene Dunn and Fred McMurray will return in just a moment. Warm enough, Susan? Perfectly, George. But I'm just as glad that Park Bench isn't our permanent home. Got to fight for principle no matter what the cost. That's what we used to say in the French royal family. We are bays. Were you with us or against us in the war of 1812? Against you, I think. But I'm, uh, willing to try to make up for it. George, right in front of my relative, the general. I'm willing to give up my family if you're willing to give up yours. I'm willing. Just plain Susan Armstrong girl editor. Plain George Harvey, boy reporter. You realize this is what's known in nature as the perfect arrangement? Ha, ha, ha. Irene Dunn and Fred McMurray will be back next week in another exciting comedy adventure in the Gay New Series, Bright Star. This is Wendell Niles inviting you to join us then.