 The Cavalcade of America, sponsored by the DuPont Company, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, starring Barbara Belgettis. Tonight's DuPont play is called Miss Vinnie and Mr. Lincoln. And here's our star, Barbara Belgettis as Vinnie Reed. Team 63, the second year of that war between the states. My Aunt Samantha and I sat in the Hushed White House reception room, waiting to see President Lincoln. We had no appointment, and only a vague hope that he would see us. And Mrs. Buckner and Miss Reem? That's our Aunt Samantha. Of course it is. Come along, Vinnie. We mustn't keep Mr. Lincoln waiting. Oh, Aunt Samantha, I'm so frightened. Nonsense. What's there to be frightened of? You laughing at Vinnie? It was a goat, wasn't it? A very spirited goat, and an adorable little boy. Adorable little boy, indeed. A wild savage. Newtonian. Yes, ma'am. Aren't you supposed to keep order here? Yes, ma'am. Well, then why do you allow wild urchins and dangerous animals to run riot like that? Well, that's Master Tad, the president's son, ma'am. Well, does Mr. Lincoln approve of his son's behaving like that? Oh, completely. In fact, Tad's pranks are about the only bright spot in his life these days. Well, I never. Oh, Auntie, surely the president deserves a little fun, even if it's only watching his little boy play game. That's the way we who are close to him feel, Miss. This way, please. You know, Auntie, I'm not frightened anymore. I just know Mr. Lincoln will help us. I hope so. Mr. President. Yes? Mrs. Buckner and Miss Reem. Oh, come in, ladies. Come in. Thank you. Sit down. Sit down. Thank you. If you'll be so kind as to wait until I finish signing these papers. Of course. Do you remember what you're to say, Vinnie? I'm not sure. Now then, what can I do for you? We're sorry to take up your time like this, Mr. President. But, well, sir, it's my brother Bob and cousin Z. Well, I don't know. Just have better let me explain, Vinnie. Mr. President, I'm loyal to the union. But, well, my husband wasn't. He was killed at Bull Run. Well, I'm sorry to hear that, ma'am. Sometimes I think a war is as hard for the families as for the men in the fighting, especially the families divided against themselves. Well, after my husband's death, my son enlisted in the Confederate Army and with some foolish boy's notion of avenging his father's death. He went off with my nephew, this girl's brother. Now, where does it reach me that both boys have been taken prisoner by Union forces? Oh, and you want me to release these boys, huh? They're young, Mr. President. They're only 17. They're privates in the Confederate Army? Yes, that is correct. And you, young lady, tell me something about yourself. Well, there's not much to tell, Mr. President. I live with my mother and father here in Washington, out on North Beach Street. I work at the post office. Fine, fine. You're doing a great work. Getting letters to the front is the most important single factor in the morale of our troops. I know, that's why. Yes, I think. You were going to say something else. What was it? Well, I really wanted to study art. Sculpture, that is, but I thought I could be more helpful where I am. Sculpture? Isn't that rather heavy work for a member of the female section? So he's lifting 100-pound male sack. Well, if you have talent, leave the post office and learn to make statues. A work of art is worth a million letters, last forever. You don't think it would be shirking my duty? An artist's only duty is to his art. Yes, Mr. President. And now, as for your brother and the other boy, I will parole them into the custody of your aunt. Thank you very much. Now, tell me, Miss Vinnie, when you've learned how to sculpt, what kind of statues will you make? Well, first I think I'd like to do a portrait of you. What do you want to do that for? I'm such a homely fellow. Oh, no, I think you're beautiful. Ladies, come on, please. Excuse me, but I'll have to collect your passes if you're leaving the White House. Here you are. Thank you. Well, Miss, did you enjoy your interview with the president? Oh, yes. And you, ma'am, have you forgiven him, his noisy little boy? In my day, young man. Oh, I beg your pardon. Lieutenant Leverage Hoxie at your service, ma'am. Well, Lieutenant, the White House may have lost some of its dignity since Mr. Lincoln moved in, but it's gained a heart. We all feel that, ma'am. Well, thank you, Lieutenant, and goodbye. Goodbye. Oh, I'm just going off duty. May I see you home, ladies? And, Lieutenant, I think it's only fair to warn you that my niece has just decided to become a sculptor. Oh, really? Well, congratulations, miss. And she has no intention of forming any attachments until she's made a name for herself in the art world. Oh, Samantha, please. And have you any idea, Lieutenant, how long it takes to carve a statue out of marble? Perhaps as long as it will take me to become a general. In that case, Lieutenant, you may see us home. And, Mama, it seems that the officer who escorted us home is a friend of Clark Mills. Who? The sculptor who did the statue of Andrew Jackson, the Lafayette Square. Oh. Across from the White House. Mr. Lincoln must have taken quite a shine to your sending you and your aunt home with a military escort. Oh, it wasn't Mr. Lincoln's idea, Papa. I thought as much past the bread, would you, Lavinia? Oh, it'll be grand having Bob home again, won't it? If he stays. Well, he'd better, because I'm quitting my post office job and he'll have to help support the family. Oh, what? Quitting your job? That's the point. I was coming to, Mama. Lieutenant Hoxley thinks that Mr. Clark Mills might be willing to take me on as a pupil. Well, that's lovely, dear, but have you thought how you're going to pay for these lessons? Well, I have $186 saved out of my salary. And with Bob back at home and after. Well, if there is a mighty expensive application, then you'll need tools and materials. Stone and bronze cost a lot of money. Well, I'll do cheap play modeling at first. And maybe Mr. Mills will let me use his studio until I can afford one of my own. Oh, I'm not sure I like that idea. Oh, Mama, and Samantha's agreed to go along a chaperone. In that case, who's going to chaperone poor Mr. Mills? Oh, really, William? You're positively encouraging the girl. Well, if she's got a hot set on this thing, let her get it out of her system. Oh, Papa, you won't regret it. I promise you, and I'll make you proud of me. Here we are, dear, Mr. Mills' studio. Ring the bell. All right. Here, hold this package, Samantha. I want to fix my hair. My goodness, it's heavy. What's in it? Papa's head. What? The portrait of Papa that I'm modeling clay. Oh. Good morning. Uh, are you Mr. Clark Mills? I am. Well, I'm Mrs. Samantha Buckner, and this is my niece, Miss Vinny Rheem. Oh, yes. Won't you come in? Thank you. Come along, Vinny. Lieutenant Leveridge Huffsey said that you might consider taking on an extra pupil in the study of sculpture. Well, you look sturdy enough for the work. Have you any talent? Oh, no, I'm not an artist. My niece here. It's frail, little slip of a girl. I'm not frail, Mr. Mills, and I'm not a slip of a girl. I'm 16 years old, going on 17. I suppose that is a sample of your work and that package. Put it down. Well, unwrap it. Oh, yes. It's a portrait of my father. Everyone says it's a good likeness. Of course, I haven't proper tools to work with, and it's a little rough, but it's a good likeness. A good likeness, you say? Like this two-fourths, may I ask? Well, it's supposed to be a portrait. A portrait of a monkey, perhaps? No, not even a monkey. A monkey has a back to its head. This is a lump of clay with a face on it, a mask. No form and no depth. You don't like my work. I neither like nor dislike it. It's nothing, absolutely nothing. I see. Thank you for being so frank. We won't take up any more of your time, Mr. Mills. They are there, dear. I can't help it. I wish I was there. Please, Miss Vinnie, I'm sorry. I didn't know it meant so much to you. I'm the one that should apologize. It's just that it's all I've ever wanted. All my life's on it. I shouldn't have spoken so harshly. There is some merit in this. The modeling of the face is sensitive. You lack technique, but I could teach you that. I could teach you all I know, but for what? So that you could do pretty little portrait busts of your family and friends. Oh, no, Mr. Mills. I want to do heroic things, like your statue of Jackson. He tells more about Andrew Jackson than all the history books. The man of action, the face, stern, and disciplined. Yet if you look at it closely, there's kindness in it and humor. You notice that. Very few people have. You have an eye, Miss Vinnie, but there's more to sculpture than art. You've got to be an architect, a carpenter, and even something of a plumber. I'm stronger than I look, Mr. Mills. Yes, I think you are. And a good eye, a good eye. Come to me tomorrow morning at 8. We'll have our first lesson. When I left Tork Mill Studio that day, I was walking on a cloud. It seemed that I had lived all my life for just that moment. But the months that followed were bitter months for the nation and for me. As our troops fought on Wirrely, I fought my losing battle to breathe the breath of life into dead clay and bronze. And then one day. Well, Vinnie, let's have a look at your latest effort. I wish you wouldn't, Mr. Mills. It's not good. Oh, I don't know. It seems to be shaping up. It doesn't mean anything. Nothing I do seems to mean anything. I don't think I'll ever be a sculptor, Mr. Mills. Well, you won't if you talk like that. What's your trouble, Vinnie? I don't know. This war. How can we talk about glorifying the human spirit and art when there's all this killing? I'd like to read you something, Vinnie. The speech the president made at a place in Pennsylvania called Gettysburg the other day. Speeches. Would speeches bring the dead to life? You just sit down there and listen to this. Yeah. Now, you all set? Yes, sir. I suppose so. It begins four score and seven years ago. Our father's brought forth on his continent a new nation conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation or any nation. As you read those words, I took up my knife and started modeling a face in a lump of clay in front of me. We are met on a great battle. As you read on, it started to take shape. The features look familiar, but not until you finish speaking did I realize who they were. To be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us. That from these honored dead, we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. That we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain. That this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom. And that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. Was it? While you were reading the speech, I just started modeling at this clay idly. And it looks like Mr. Lincoln. So it does. Oh, I wonder if I could do a portrait of him. If I could capture in marble the man that spoke those words, the face, and the realism, and the compassion. Of course, Vinnie. Oh, but to be really good, it should be modeled from life. Not much chance of that, I'm afraid. Mr. Lincoln hates to sit for portraits. Yes, I know. Well, who knows, Vinnie? Perhaps I can find a way to change his mind. You are listening to the Cavalcade of America starring Barbara Belgettis in Miss Vinnie and Mr. Lincoln, sponsored by the DuPont Company. Makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Among DuPont's better things for better living are cellulose sponges. Have you ever used a DuPont cellulose sponge to hurry along your household cleaning chores? We think you'll find it faster and easier to use than any cleaning aid you've ever tried. It's a new, tougher, man-made sponge with hundreds of uses. Wonderful for washing dishes, walls, windows, woodwork, floors, and the family car. DuPont sponges made of tear-resistant cellulose last and last, and they can be sterilized by boiling. You can get them in four handy sizes at grocery, hardware, drug, department, auto supply, or variety stores. Wherever you buy them, look for the DuPont oval on the cellophane wrapping. It means you are getting one of the DuPont companies better things for better living through chemistry. We continue our DuPont play. As Vinnie Rehm, who has been studying under the noted sculptor Clark Mills in Washington during the Civil War, finds the DuPont to execute from life a portrait of Abraham Lincoln. One day in the antechamber to his office in the White House. Mr. Clark Mills? Yes, yes, I'm Clark Mills, Colonel. The President will see you now, Mr. Mills. Thank you. Thank you very much. Mr. President, Mr. Mills is here. Come in, Mr. Mills. Thank you, Mr. President. It was good of you to see me. I wanted to meet you for a long time. Every morning when I get up and look out of the window, I see that statue of Andrew Jackson on the prancing horse. And I think if he could stay in that strenuous pose for 15 years, I ought to be good for another four. Well, what's on your mind, Mr. Mills? I wanted to ask a favor of you. A young lady, a student of mine, has been working on a portrait bust of you. I consider it a very fine piece of work, but it lacks something, the final touch of realism that can only be achieved through working from the living model. No, no, no, I haven't time to pose for my portrait man. I have a war to finish up. It wouldn't have to take up any of your time if she could just sit quietly by for a few moments each day and record her impression of me. Mr. Mills, if I had exceeded the request of every lady who wanted to paint me on China or put me into Petty Point or watercolor sketches, I'd not have a feature left to my name. This girl is quite poor, Mr. President. She's been clerking at the post office to help support her family. She's very gifted, and this would be the opportunity of her lifetime. Well, all right. Send her to me tomorrow at noon. I'll be resting in the upstairs sitting room. Down, down somewhere, down. Oh, don't mind him, Miss, he won't bite, but he takes himself seriously as a watchdog. I think he's sweet. My son Ted thinks so too. I don't. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. Thank you. Mr. President, I'm so very grateful for that. Now let's dispense with the formality, shall we? I understand, Miss Vinnie, you wish to model my features in clay. Yes, sir. All right then, Miss Vinnie, you shall have your wish. I rest every noonday between 12 o'clock and half past, and you may come at that time every day, except Sunday, until you finish your model. But not more than half an hour. And so began the months of loving labor that I was later to count as the most precious hours of my life. Each day at noon I would walk from the post office to the White House, and for 30 minutes I would sit in the corner of Mr. Lincoln's upstairs sitting room, while he relaxed as he folded, in a midst of his long, grueling day. And as I learned to know him, the lifeless clay began to come to life. I tried to put in it the kindly humor of his flights of fancy with his little boy Ted, his grief over the torn nation in a many days, and finally his jubilation on the day the war was over. At last, the clay model was finished. It was Good Friday, 1865. As I was packing up my tools, General Grant came in to see the president. Come in, come in, General. Stanton said you were anxious to get hold of me, Mr. President. Oh, yes, yes, I'd like to ask you to consider doing me a favor. Oh, by the way, General Grant, this is Mrs. Vinnie Reem, the clerk. How do you do? How do you do, General? She's my friend. Oh, yes, I think I heard my wife speak of Miss Reem. You see, Vinnie, you're famous already. For now, this favor, General. My wife had planned a little theater party tonight at Ford's to see her play Our American Cousin, I think it's called. Anyway, her guests cannot attend, but I wondered if you and Mrs. Grant would care to go. I'm afraid we must decline, Mr. President. Mrs. Grant has not been well lately, and as it is, we're getting ready to leave Washington. Well, perhaps Mary will find someone. You don't seem in very good spirits, Mr. President. I had a dream last night. I dreamed of a corpse. It was lying in these rooms, surrounded by soldiers, guards. I had dreamed that the sound of weeping awakened me during the night. I went into these rooms and asked the people why they saw him. And they answered, because the president was dead. What a fearful dream, Mr. President. Oh, come, Grant, don't take it so seriously. Just a dream. I always have one before some great event. Antietam, Gettysburg, Vicksburg. Let's hope it pretends something as welcome as those events. We shall see. Excuse me, Mr. Lynch. Yes, Finney? I'm going now. The Dre will come this afternoon to move the model over to Mr. Mills' studio. All finished, eh? Well, I've done as much as I can with a clay model, Mr. President. Well, it's a good likeness, Finney. It's more than a good likeness. I hope I can live up to it. Mr. President, I... I know, dear girl. I shall miss you. And I shall miss you, too. Good afternoon, Mr. President. Good afternoon, Finney. I left the White House. But the rest of the afternoon and that night, I kept thinking of Mr. Lincoln's dream in a strange way he looked at me when we said goodbye. That night, our whole nation was plunged into grief. And Abraham Lincoln belonged to the age. It was many months before I could bring myself to lift the canvas from the clay model I had made of that beautiful face. Then came a bright day. From the rotunda of the capital, the sun's rays came slanting down on the flag-draped image of a man. All the great men who had known him and worked with him were there. And, of course, there was a speech. We have assembled here in the rotunda of the nation's capital to witness the unveiling of a statue of the late President Lincoln. This monument, wrought in white marble by the hand of Miss Vinny Reem, was based upon a portrait made by this young girl from sittings given her by Mr. Lincoln. It is fitting that she should have received this commission. Both she and Mr. Lincoln are of humble origin and both under God were the architects of their own fortune. Now as we pull the cord to unveil this statue, Abraham Lincoln lives again in imperishable marble. I saw the veiling ripped away and the sun's rays struck the gleaming white marble of my statue of Abraham Lincoln. I felt that somehow, however imperfectly, I had managed to convey what I and so many millions of Americans had felt about him. And I was proud. And the cavalcade players for tonight's drama, the story of how Vinny Reem created the statue of Abraham Lincoln that stands in the rotunda of the capital of Washington. Next week, the DuPont cavalcade presents the popular young star of stage and screen, William Ike in The Conqueror. It's the story of Henry Rose Carter, who years before anyone else fought to banquish Yellow Sea Bear. Be sure to listen. Tonight's DuPont play was written by Robert Tallman and was based on the book Vinny Reem and Mr. Lincoln by Freeman H. Hubbard, published by Whittlesley House. In tonight's cast with Miss Belgettis, we're F.O.O. and as Aunt Samantha, Bill Adams as Abraham Lincoln and Barry Kroger as Clark Mill. Music for the DuPont cavalcade was composed by Arden Cornwell and conducted by Donald Voorhees. The program was directed by John Zoller. Ladies and gentlemen, a warning we've all heard time and time again that must be repeated. Drive carefully. The life you save may be your own. The DuPont cavalcade of America comes to you from the stage of the Belasco Theater in New York and is sponsored by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware. Makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Like concerts, salute for mortal day on NBC.