 Starring Irene Dunn on the Cavalcade of America, sponsored by Dupont. Maker of better things for better living through chemistry. Tonight's Dupont welcomes to Cavalcade's Hollywood Playhouse, one of our very favorite stars of stage and motion pictures. Lovely Irene Dunn. In the unforgettable role she created in the RKO motion picture, Simeron. Adapted from Edna Ferber's thrilling novel of the same title. And now the lights are being dimmed as the curtain goes up on Simeron with Irene Dunn. Tonight's play on the Cavalcade of America. Land of the forests, the waving sea of grass. Oklahoma, the Indian country. Crossed by Coronado, questing for gold. By French trappers roaching west from Louisiana. And always there were Indians. Then came the settlers, pushing the Indians further and further west. Swarming across borders to the lush fertile plains between the turbulent Simeron and the roaring Canadian. In 1889 Washington realized these land-starred pioneers could no longer be denied. So President Harrison signed the proclamation and the Indian territory was open. At noon, April 22nd of that fateful year, by the thousands they stood poised at the border. All breathlessly awaiting the signal which would send them reaching into the territory to claim land. Land for their own. The hand on a soldier's watch ticked on for the noon hour. 1157, 1158, 1159 and April 29th, one week later, in the cool quiet home of her parents in Wichita. Sabra Kravach stands reading aloud a letter written from the new town of Osage by her husband Yancy, describing the new territory. By nightfall there wasn't an acre Sabra. Not an acre left of the two million opened at noon. Sabra, sugar, there has never been anything like that run since creation. History made in an hour like a miracle out of the Old Testament. Sounds just like Yancy Kravach, the tongue of a bishop in the soul of a buccaneer. Oh mother please, you want me to finish the letter, don't you? Oh, why I ever let you marry a man like that I'll never know. Rhapsodizing over Oklahoma. You might be interested to know that Yancy is going to publish a newspaper in Osage. And when he gets back here next week, little seminar returning to Oklahoma with him. Sabra, Sabra, are you out of your mind? Oklahoma? Why, I simply forbid you. I'll forbid it and not mom, I'm going. Yancy's right. There's an empire to be had and to be tamed. And if that's the life my husband chooses, then his wife and son will be with him when those wagons roll into Osage. Osage it is sugar and odds glory. Months ago a crawling red berry today a rip roaring town. That was just Osage's way of saying welcome stranger. Oh, but Yancy, it's fun. Come on sugar, you'll feel different after you've seen the little newspaper planner got here for us. Now let me get off here. Feels good to stretch my legs. Come on honey, jump down, I'll catch you. Got to open this door. Mrs. Kravach, welcome to your new home. Well silly, aren't you going to let me get down? When you hire a carriage, you generally pay your cabbie fare, don't you sugar? How a what? Oh, Yancy really knows these stories. I carried you in from the wagon, didn't I? A nice safe trip if I say so myself. Oh, dearest, all that for a kiss you could have had just for the taking. Now help yourself to look around your home. Oh, Yancy, you mean we have to live here? Sugar, I know it's no witch at our palace, but you'll make it one for the three of us. First thing we've got to do is start publishing the Osage wig wand. I want the papers out, we'll have time and money for everything. Oh, when I hear you say it, Yancy, I feel pretty sure of it. When I start looking around... Oh, little Sabre, if I'd been half a man, I wouldn't have dragged you and same off here, but I couldn't have left you in Kansas. I love you so much, just the thought of not having you. Oh darling, darling, darling. Maybe, maybe you and Sim should go back to Wichita. This is a hard and callous country for a woman. No, Yancy. No, my husband. With a vow goers, darling. Forever. Oh, if there wasn't anything else I'd love you for, Sabre. I'd worship you for that. Anybody at your home? Hey, Grant, in here. Well, how ya, Yancy? Old lop-eared buffalo? Oh, I beg your pardon, ma'am. Grant, I want you to meet my wife, Sabre. This is Grant Nolan on it. How do you do, Mr. Nolan? Mr. Nolan, she says. Don't miss her, since that Texas judge gave me five years for rustling. Oh, now don't mind, Grant, sugar. If the judge had known his business, Grant had gotten life. That's a goodin', that's a goodin'. By the way, Yancy. Remember, I told you about Jack Pigler. The seller tried to run a newspaper here and was killed. A newspaper man killed? Oh, Sabre. And what do you aimin' to say, Grant? Well, from what I've been hearing while you were East, I just forget about trying to pin the kill of the Lon Yannis gang. Well, Grant, somebody around here's got to tell the truth. And if Lon Yannis thinks you can get away... Yes, and Mr. Nolan's trying to tell you this because he's heard something. You did hear something, didn't you, Mr. Nolan? Well... Sabre, I've worn these guns for good many years. I'll be wearing them while Lon Yannis is roostin' in Boot Hill if I can prove who killed Jack Pigler. All I can do is warn you, Yancy. Lon Yannis is on the prod up the street thanks, Grant. If you see Lon, tell him I'm waiting. All right, Yancy. See you later. Yancy, what sort of a town is this? So what sort of a man are you that you'd make yourself a target for a gunman's bullet? I only know what sort of a man I'd be if I let Yannis get away with this blood. Yancy, now, no. You've got to promise me. You've got to be careful. I didn't come out. Yancy, Yannis is getting up the street. They're headed this way. I'm right here waiting. Oh, Yancy, don't go out there. Please, don't... I thought maybe I'd miss the place. I'm back, Lon. But that's what I've got to take up with you. You'll have to wait. What I've got for you won't wait. Or maybe you'd rather stay in there behind your missy. Don't you miss me? You're good for nothing, Lofa. You leave my husband alone. Why don't you throw away them shooting iron cravat? You don't need two guns. You've got two apron strings. Come on, boys. It'll be all over town in ten minutes that Yancy cravat hides behind a woman's petticoat. Well, let them say it. You can't run a newspaper dead, can you? And after seeing him, I've decided, oh, Sage, you need our newspaper. Saber, you mean that about the newspaper? Yes, I do. I certainly do. All right, sugar. We'll start right now. And the first thing we'll do is print the name of the man who killed Jack Pegger. Oh, no, wait, Yancy. You can't do it that way. And why not? We're going to print the truth paper. No, no, no. Now, look, we need help. Don't you see we need the support of the whole town? Well, they won't be afraid anymore. Sure, sure, but how are you... Now, if we could only get them together at a sort of a meeting like a church meeting. They wouldn't dare say away from that. A church? You know, Sage, but there isn't any. Well, maybe it's kind of unholy sounding, but my saloon will hold close to 300 people if yet care is... Church? In a saloon? Well, of course. What difference does that make? You said yourself where his word is spoken is his temple, and you'll be the preacher. You always were a good talker. All right, Sabre, I'll do it. We'll print up a bulletin today. The largest type we've got and posted on the front of the Red Dog Saloon. Come, all ye faithful. Now, baptize you with a bottle of rock. Oh, darling, you don't think... Eat that enough. And you might find that the Lord's sword is too agey. Come on, Sabre, church is about to come in. We've come to the first service in this old-age, Methodist, Catholic, Baptist, Episcopal, Lutheran Congregational Church. We've come from Proverbs. There's a lion in the way. A lion is in the street. But since I'm going to change the word lion to jackal and name a few names, anyone who wishes to leave may leave now. Now, friends, perhaps I made a mistake in saying jackal. Perhaps I should say skunk because it is a skunk who has held this town abjectly terrorized by his threats of sudden death. But today I'm going to name that skunk who has brought down our former newspaper editor when his back was turned. He's in this tent now, and his name is... Yes, and look how he's gone. I shot Lon Yonder's in self-defense. Are we going to let this meeting was just a trick to get the honest worker back? Could gun him down. Shook him. Sabre. Lead them into him. Sing, Sabre, for the Lord's sake sing. Oklahoma. Simeron starring Irene Dunn has brought you this evening the Cavalcade of America sponsored by Dupont, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Sabre arrived in Osage four years during which Sabre has worked side by side with her roistering gifted husband. It is late afternoon and Sabre is editing the weekly edition of the wigwam when the door opens. No, not quite. Good. I'm going to write a sizzling editorial. It's high time Osage buckled on her guns about the pinto kid. Oh, Yancy, why must you always be the one who looks for trouble? We have law officers here. They've had their chance. Now I'm going to take mine. You mean you're growing bored with Osage now that it's settling down. The fact that the pinto kid is a cold-blooded killer and might kill you means nothing to you. Nothing? Where right is concerned? Right. I have a few rights. The rights of a wife and a mother. Your son has some rights. No, Shooka, don't get upset. I'm not getting upset. I am upset. There's something in your blood, Yancy. Lord, help us. Never let you rest. You've always boasted how you could never stay in one place for more than a few years. You start jobs and leave them. Have done them all with the dangers out of them. That's only because this land of ours is filled with a thousand frontier, 10,000 jobs to be done. Only a handful of us to do them. Jobs like making a target of yourself for outlaws and bullets. No, Yancy. This time I mean it. You touch your guns and I'm taking spin and going back to Wichita. You wouldn't. There's still too much to be done here. Well, if you can't bluff me down this time, Yancy, I'll leave for Wichita tomorrow. If you don't give me your solemn promise, never to touch a gun again. All right, Shooka. I'll see that you get your ticket. You go back. Try and live down the shame of leaving Oklahoma happy. You know I couldn't go. Remember what I told you the first day I set foot in this room? With a valgoist? I go, forever. Shameless woman. I only love her. Oh, darling, please. You're squeezing me to death. I'm not squeezing, Shooka. I'm just cleaning to you. You're like a strong, straight bower and my love of iron trying to clothe you on all its twining fragrance. And I suppose you had a Shakespeare? No. That's just plain Yancy crevasse. Oh. Cool for this week's edition. Thanks, Mr. Simmons. Uh, excuse me, ma'am, but it's more than an hour past press time now. Yes, yes. But it's not putting the paper together. Mr. Kravap will take care of that when he returns. Oh, Ms. Kravap. It'll be just like last week all over again when he didn't come around till next day. I didn't ask your advice, Mr. Simmons. Yes, ma'am. I only couldn't be sure to start making it up. Now, here's the feature story. When you wrote commemoration of territory's fifth birthday. Hmm. In that story about the ladies' auxiliaries' new club rooms and the tea social on Sunday... Kravap! Yancy, where have you been? The paper's all ready to go. Oh, hang the paper, Kravap. I've got news. Real news. You seem to forget we have a paper to get out. I know, Kravap. President Cleveland just signed the proclamation an hour ago, opening up the Cherokee Strip for settlement. He'll make his purchase from the Cherokees and thrown open for white settlement. Oh, honey, let you and Simmons and I get out of this. Lord, sewing clubs and shirts suffers in wallpaper and Paris fashion. Oh, she's just like Chick-O-Cla-Nel. Let me see Kravap. Sugar, we'll sell the paper. Pack our things, make the run. Have a ranch with horses and steers. I won't. I won't go. I'd rather die first. Never, Yancy, and you can't make it. Honey, you don't understand. It's the biggest thing in the history of Oklahoma. I don't want anything but a few years of happiness and comfort with my family. Oh, Yancy, yes. Sabra, you've got to listen to me. No, no, I mustn't listen to you. The trouble is I've listened to you too often. You're not a man, Yancy Kravap. You're not even a husband. All you are is a shitless, selfish page out of a lying history book you want to write yourself. You won't go with me? You know I won't go. I don't believe you'll go either. There, Sabra, is where you're mistaken. You will not go. If I were here when that gun went off and the Cherokee run started, that bullet would go through my heart and you could bury me alongside the Pinto kids. You're stubborn. Stubborn, that's what you are. You won't even give your own life and son one precious bit of yourself without making them pay a price, your price. I hate to leave having you think that of me, sugar. I hate to worsen anything. But the paper and all I've got is yours. May God keep you. Yancy vanishes down the road of his destiny to be swallowed up as the years march on. Silver has now touched the hair of beautiful Sabra for that, a successful influential woman who has helped guide Oklahoma to become a state of the Union. Then, on the night of Oklahoma's first national election, seated behind the editor's desk of the Osage Daily wigwam, Sabra looks up. Well, Jimmy, what on earth are you doing here? Shouldn't you be home working on those examinations? Oh, how could I study when my mother is about to become the first congresswoman in history? How do the returns look? Pretty good, son. In fact, I'm beginning to be a little frightened. You frightened? Well, I've seen you in there battling everybody single-handed too long. I know. Well, it's not really frightened. Oh, I don't know. I guess it's disappointment. All these years I've worked have been only because I thought your father would be back. Mom, he would if he were alive. You see, son, I wanted him to be the first congressman from Osage. He loved this country so much. So, you missed her back. You missed her back. Yes, what is it, Mr. Simmons? He just came in the last return. You're it, Miss Kravak. You're the new congressman. Oh, Mom, gosh, I'm proud of you. The first congresswoman in history. Oh, what's the matter, Mrs. Kravak? Mom, Mom, you've been overdoing it. You better come home now. No, no, I'm all right. I'm sorry. I'm acting just the way your father would expect a woman to after the time like this. Oh, Sabra? Sabra, we've just come from campaign headquarters. Sabra, my dear congratulations. Isn't it wonderful? Is it? Is it? I don't know. Oh, darling, of course it is. And we've planned so many things for you before you leave for Washington. Mr. Oaks wants you to attend a luncheon at Honorary Chairwoman next Wednesday when they bring in the first well in the New Perhuska oil field. Oh, imagine what an occasion. The hotel is catering a luncheon right out in the oil field itself. And for our chief speaker, we'll have Congresswoman Sabra Kravak. What an example for all Sabra Kravak. My heart, my dear, dear friends, many of us here today have watched Oklahoma grow from a savage wilderness. We have seen schools and churches, roads, replaced lawless frontiers. My part in all this, everything I've done, everything I will ever do, has been nearly building on the glorious blueprint of progress drawn from the first day I came to Oaks. Drawn by my beloved husband, Oklahoma's true leader, Yancey Kravak. The territory was open. Yancey wrote me a letter. Was the man hurt? But he sure was a hero. Oh, I'll go see what I can do. No, you won't. Was any open? Yes. Yes, ma'am. My darling, there was so much for us to do together. We did everything we had to do together. All those plans you had, darling. Oklahoma. Oh, you done the job. Better than I could have sugar. No, Yancey, darling. It's you and men like you who build the world. Build it for the rest of us to live in. You've got to get well, Yancey. Got to. No, sugar. Why, mother? Because, woman, hide me. Hide me in your love. Lee, come on, boy. My dearest boy. In a few moments, our star, Irene Dunn, will return to the microphone. Meanwhile, Gain Whitman has some interesting information about color. At night, runs the proverb, all cats are gray. Return for a moment that you had it in your power to decide what color all cats should be. If you held up your finger and said gray, all cats would be gray. Would you do it? Well, why not? A gray cat is a perfectly good cat. But the chances are that if you had your say so, you'd keep right on turning out 1942 model cats in the usual colors. You might even brighten them a bit with pink or green. Why? Because a world without color is a dreary, dreary place. And all of us know that so. 30 years ago, curtains, table linen, shirts were always white. Shoes were black, white, brown, or gray. Mintsuits were black or blue. Stockings were black or white. Our fathers and mothers lived in the white and black world of a photograph. Well, again, why not? Why do we enjoy so many colors today? The answer, as before, is that there are values in this world that have nothing whatever to do with utility. Some feeling deep inside us tells us that a colorful world is not only a gayer, pleasanter place, but a better place. The sky is blue, the grass is green, little chicks are yellow, and when it comes to color, butterflies combine the most gorgeous colors we know. So today we use color, lots of it. We have it to use. We have it largely because modern chemistry provides us with it. The DuPont Company, for example, manufactures paints and dyes in hundreds of base colors which, through various formulations, may be extended to an almost infinite number of shades. Some of them serve plain purposes. They go into carbon paper and stove polish and printing ink. Every piece of white paper has a little blue in it to make it look whiter. But thousands of colors are dedicated to one thing and one thing alone. The pursuit of happiness. Paints brighten the walls of our homes, our offices. Food colors make the things we eat and drink more attractive. Dyes assure women an endless supply of dresses never twice the same. Color in our time doesn't merely gloss over the surface of an object that might otherwise be ugly. It's an integral part of our lives. Color used for the joy of itself. Color as free as that note of pure joy on the part of creation, the butterfly's jeweled wings. Such a contribution to the happiness of mankind can't be weighed or measured, but the DuFont chemist who has done his share to provide it feels that the colors he creates are among the better things for better living through chemistry. And now we'd like you to meet our star, Irene Dunn. It made me very happy tonight to return to my old love simmering on the Calvocate of America. It was that picture that gave me the opportunity to react to stream dust. I hope that the qualities I admire so much in saber crevasse will always find affection in the hearts of men and women. To me, she is a very real American. Thank you. Thank you, Irene Dunn. It's been a pleasure to have you with us on Calvocate, and we hope you'll be back again soon. By the way, be sure to listen next Monday evening when we will present Pancho Tone in Sidney Kingsley's Pulitzer Prize-winning play Men and White. I shan't miss it, you can be sure, John. Thanks again, everybody. Good night. In support of Miss Dunn, Yancey Cravat was played by Gail Gordon. Tonight's radio version of Simeron was written especially for Calvocate of America by Paul Franklin. The original music was composed and directed by Robert Armbruster. Be sure to listen next Monday evening when the Calvocate of America stars Pancho Tone in Men and White, the thrilling play which dramatically portrays the courage and faith exemplified in the daily work of American doctors and nurses. Your announcer is John Heaston, sending you best wishes from DuPont. This is the red-network of a national broadcasting company.