 The Mutual Broadcasting System in Cooperation with Family Theatres and Co-operated presents once on a golden afternoon, starring Tom Conway and Natalie Wood. Maureen O'Sullivan is your hostess. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. One of the great joys we as parents have is to see our children growing up in the knowledge and love of God. Yes, and maybe growing up with them is the way to keep young always. For certainly their faith and trust in God is always an inspiration to our own faith. You know children have a wonderful way of knowing that God is always close to them and that he can and will hear their prayers. So often it happens that we lose much of the happiness of life because we forget the simplicity of childhood, the direct simple way children have, for love and laughter. Yes, and insight into the happiness of children, how we can add to their enjoyment and light-heartedness is a way to recapture the joy that as adults we often lose. Love of God and daily family prayer in our homes gives light-hearted happiness and peace and harmony because praying together as a family brings God close to all of us. Tonight is a special program Family Theatre presents a story for children, for all children from six to sixty-five, a story that happened once on a golden afternoon, starring Tom Conway and Natalie Wood. Moreno Sullivan will return after tonight's Family Theatre story once on a golden afternoon, starring Natalie Wood and Tom Conway. In the lounge of the press club in Washington, D.C., the annual banquet of the press club has drawn foreign correspondence from the four corners of the globe, editors from the nation's newspapers, and of course, reporters of every description. The president of the United States is the guest of honor. People keep milling in and out, but in a far corner of the vast lounge sit two men, oblivious to the noise and excitement. Edward Kent, roving foreign correspondent for International Syndicate, and Jim Thorn, Washington correspondent for The Times-Santanal News. Oh, of course. Oh, good. Oh, Kent, this is really old home week for me. You know, I haven't seen you since, so let me see, before the war. A few years before that, 1937 to be exact. Yes, that's right. The London Economic Conference. We covered it together. You covered it, Jim. I didn't. I got fired. Say, what happened then? Somebody told me that you got fed up with the way things were happening in the world and wanted to get away from it all. No, I ran into something better than the Economic Conference. At least I thought it was. What was that? The story on Alice Liddell. Liddell? Was that the Whitechapel prisoner? No. No, this was an 80-year-old, rosy-cheeked little lady who lived in the flat below me. I got fired when I missed the most important meeting of the conference because I waited to hear the story she told me about a golden afternoon. Yeah? It's a story known to everyone, but it actually happened to her, and the remembrance gave her the wonderment and simplicity of a child. You see, as a little girl, she lived near Christ College in Oxford. This was in 1864, and there was a young professor taught mathematics at the college, and, well, one day he'd promised to take the two Liddell girls, Edith and Alice, on a picnic, and they were waiting for him near the river. Hello there. How is everyone on this glorious afternoon? Well, aren't we on speaking terms? Edith is angry. Angry? At whom? At you, Mr. Dodgson. Oh, I see. And you, Alice, are you angry too? Well, if I have to tell you that we're angry, then I can't be angry if I speak to you, can I? No. No, you can't. Because when you speak to a person at whom you're angry, then you're no longer angry. She is too. I am not. I say, what is this all about? Well, didn't you forget something? No, now let me see. You promised to take us on a picnic. Oh, good heavens, I did forget. Now you wait here. I'll dash up to my room and get the picnic basket. We'll have it filled up, and we'll be rowing down the river in no time. I know just the spot for a bit. That's the story of Fair Rosamond. And over there, near the old monastery, is her burial place. Oh, that's a beautiful story. Tell us another before we land, Mr. Dodgson. Why, I've almost run out of stories. Oh, that bridge yonder has a little story. It's been here ever since the time of the Romans. And that is how Oxford got its present name. It was a fort for Oxen to pass over. And so long before the Christian era, it was called Oxenfort. Oh. Well, here we are. Isn't this a perfect place for a picnic? Oh, I love it here. I'll take the picnic basket. Alice, you the blanket, and you Edith, well, let me see. Will you shaper on the landing of the troops? Ready? Prima, Secunda, Tertia, forward. What's this mutiny? I say forward and none of you move. But you said Prima, Secunda, and Tertia. And they aren't here. Edith is Prima. That's the first contingent. And you, Alice, are Secunda. That is the second. And I am Tertia. Which is the third? Right. And now let's be off to that shady tree out of the sun. So, an apple for each of you, and we've cleaned the picnic basket. Here you are, Edith. And here's one for Alice. Catch it. Hurry, it's rolling down to the river. It'll take a longer hand than yours to reach it. I'm afraid we've lost it. You see, it's a rabbit hole, and it goes down deep. What does a rabbit do down there? Does he live down there all the time? Of course not. He has to get air. He comes out and eats shrubs. Oh, look! There he is over in the bushes. He's a white rabbit. Catch him, Alice. Catch him. Oh, you can't now. He's gone down the hole again. Oh, he was such a pretty rabbit. Why did he want to go down that old dirty hole? Oh, but it isn't an old dirty hole. It's a... It's rather a wonderful place down there. You see, up here the world is sometimes filled with things that are hard and cruel and people who are sometimes thoughtless and unkind and selfish. Do you mean like the jealous queen who killed Fair Rosamond? Yes. But down there is a wonderland with mock turtles and lorries and griffins. Oh, tell us about it. We'd like to go down there. Well, um... Well, you see, there's quite a story about this wonderland. Story? Please tell it to us. Is it about the white rabbit? And mock turtles? Yes. And about a little girl who followed the white rabbit down into the hole. And suddenly, she found herself dropping down, down, down. And while she was falling, she was clutching at things on the way, saying... To fall is this. I'll take nothing of tumbling downstairs. I wonder how many miles I've fallen. I must be somewhere near the center of the earth. I'm sure. Won't she be safe? If I've kept you waiting. If you please, sir. Master Rabbit. Oh, my fur and whiskies. Where are my gloves and fan? I'll have to be on the way. Remember, my little poem. Now, let's see. Approve his shining tail and pour the water softenile on every golden scale. How cheerfully he seems to grin. How neatly spread his claws and welcome little fishes in with gentle smiling jaws. I'm sure those are not the right words. I must be somebody else after all. And I shall have to live in this pokey little hole. No, Mr. Mouse. Where's the cat? I beg your pardon. I quite forgot you didn't like cats. We won't talk about that any longer. As if I would talk on such a subject. Our family always hated cats. Nasty, low, vulgar things. Don't... Mouse, dear, do come back. And we won't talk about cats anymore. You promised to tell me your history. Why do you hate C.A.? It certainly is a long tale. But why do you call it sad? Silly girl, what are you talking about? Catapella is. But what is he doing over there? Smoking his pipe. That's a funny thing. And he's sitting on top of a mushroom. And why not? Oh, I'm sure I don't know. But he has large, lonely eyes. I know he must be very unhappy. Who can tell? I'll go and talk to him. Catapillar? Who? Sir. XP? Not myself, you see. I don't see. I'm afraid it's very confusing. It isn't. Maybe not to you. But I'll go away if you don't want to be friendly. Come back. I have something important to say. What, sir? Keep your temper. What? Keep your temper. Is that all you have to say? No, but that's most important. Oh. So you think you've changed, do you? I'm afraid I have, sir. I keep growing and shrinking. And I'm not the same size for 10 minutes. And I can't remember things. Can't remember what things? I tried to say how doth the busy be. But it came out different. Oh. Then recite. You are old Father Williams. All right. I'll try. You are old Father William, the young man said, and your hair has become very white. And yet you incessantly stand on your head. Do you think at your age it is right? In my youth, Father William replied to his son, I feared it might injure the brain. But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none, why I do it again and again? I mentioned before and have grown most uncommonly fat. Yet you turned a back somersault in at the door. Pray, what is the reason for that? In my youth, said the sage, as he shook his gray locks, I kept all my limbs very supple. By the use of this ointment, when shilling a box, allow me to sell you a couple. And your jaws are too weak for anything tougher than a suet. Yet you finished the goose with the bones and the beak. Pray, how do you manage to do it? In my youth, said his father, I took to the law and argued each case with my wife. And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw has lost it the rest of my life. But hardly suppose that your eyes were as steady as ever. Yet you balanced an ear on the end of your nose. What made you so awfully clever? I have answered three questions and that is enough. Said his father, don't give yourself hairs. You think I could listen all day to such stuff? Be up or I'll kick you downstairs. Kick him downstairs. I am ashamed of you. It is not said right. Not quite right, I'm afraid, sir. It's wrong from beginning to end. Well, that's because I've become so small. You're quite big enough. Oh, but three inches is a wretched height to be. It's a very good height indeed. Oh, three inches. But I'm not used to it. But you will be in time. One side will make you taller and the other side will make you grow shorter. One side of what? Of the mushroom, of course. You mean eat it? Of course. Oh, here he comes. Here he comes. I must be away. That's it. Oh, my dear paws. Is your ass ferrets or ferrets? Oh, Mr. Rabbit. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Right, Mr. Rabbit, where are you going? The Cheshire Cat. Then which way are you going? I've seen Harris before, so I'll go to see... Oh, what are you doing? Vanishing. But you're beginning to vanish at the end of your day. I've often seen a cat without a grin. But a grin without a cat. It's the most curious thing I ever saw in my life. He's mad. I was going to sit down at the table with you and the doormouse and the hatter. I'm mad. I don't see any milk. Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it. Wasn't very civil of you to sit down without being invited? Your hair wants cutting. Personal remarks are very rude. Then why is there even like a writing disc? Oh, now we shall have some fun. I love riddles. You mean you can find out the answer? Exactly so. And say what you mean. I do. At least, I mean what I say. That's the same thing, you know. You might as well say I get what I like is the same thing as I like what I get. Or I breathe when I sleep is the same thing as I sleep when I breathe. Have you guessed the riddle yet? No. I give up. What's the answer? I have the slightest idea. Nor I. You're just wasting time. What time is it? It's six o'clock. It's time to eat. I'm getting hungry. Have you seen the mock turtle yet? I don't even know what a mock turtle is. It's the thing mock turtle soup is made from. Are you hungry? I don't think. Then don't talk. It's time to go. I'm sure the mock turtle should be somewhere on the seashore. There you are. Sit down and don't speak a word. But you are going to tell your story. Not a word. Sir, I don't see how you can finish if you don't even begin. Once? Once I was a real turtle. Thank you, sir. That was a very interesting story. But I'm not finished. No? No. When we were little, though you may believe it, we went to school in the sea. The master was an old turtle. We called him tortoise. Why did you call him tortoise if he wasn't one? You know, you really are very dull. We called him tortoise because he tortoise. Oh, but how many hours a day did you do your lessons? Ten the first day, nine the next and so on. That was a curious plan. Well, that's why they're called lessons. Because they lesson from day to day. Oh, look. What is that? Lobster quadril. You're going to dance? Why, of course. Form two lines. Advance twice. Change lobsters. Get that jellyfish out of the way. Now out to sea and don't be slow. The somersault. And there you... He comes again. The duchess. She'll have me executed. Oh, Mr. Rabbit. Oh, dear, dear, what do you want? I'd like to see the duchess. She's in a stew. Wait, Mr. Rabbit, I'll go with duchess. I didn't know you looked so big and funny. Well, you don't know much, and that's a fact. Everybody minded their own business. The world would go around the deal faster than it does. Which would not be an advantage. Why? Well, just think what it would do to the day and night. You see, the earth takes 24 hours to turn on its axis. Speaking of axis, it's time to chop off her head. Oh, dear, oh, dear. Your hot tempered duchess. Maybe it's the pepper that makes people hot tempered. I can't tell just now what the moral of that is, but I'll remember it in a bit. Perhaps it hasn't one. Tut, tut, child, everything's got a moral. If only you couldn't find it. Everything's got a moral. There it is. Oh, tis love, tis love that makes the world go round. Somebody said that it's done by everybody minding their own business. The moral of that is birds of a feather flock together. How fun you are finding morals and things. Oh, yes, the moral of that is be what you would seem to be or more simply said. Never imagine yourself to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that you are or appear to be. But that isn't more simple. Chop off her head. Oh, dear, oh, dear. Wake up, Alice. I say, look at Alice. She's crying. Alice, wake up. What's the matter? What happened is so unfriendly. Oh, we'll have to give him a good talking to the next time. Oh, but you didn't finish the story. I couldn't very well. In the middle of it, Edith went off to pick daisies and you went fast asleep. Then I must have dreamed about the mouse and the duchess and the turtle and the rabbit. I started telling you a story about them. Oh, I remember. It was a wonderful story. A story just for you, Alice. And for Edith. Will you write it down so I can remember it always? Write it down. Yes. And I'll call it a golden afternoon. No, call it Alice in Wonderland. Then it'll be just for me. Wouldn't you want it for all your friends, too? Oh, yes. For everybody. For all of us who are children always. A story to remember the simple joys of childhood and the happy summer days. Well, that was the story Alice Pleasance Liddell told me. That's why I missed the meeting of the London Economic Conference and got fired. The original Alice in Wonderland? That's right. Later Dodson asked George McDonald to draw pictures of Liddell's book. McDonald showed the manuscript to Macmillan, the publisher, who decided the book should be published for the millions of Alice's throughout the world. But I thought Lewis Carroll wrote Alice in Wonderland. Oh, that happened because Dodson was a professor of mathematics at Oxford. Oh. He thought everyone would laugh if they knew he'd written that book. So he used his first and middle names twisted around. And what happened to little old rosy cheek, lady? Well, she died a short time later. I was fortunate enough to have seen the original book that he'd written for her, though. And inscribed on the cover was Lewis Carroll's last dedication to the little girl who has been my inspiration. Alice Pleasance Liddell by Alice in Wonderland. You know, sometimes it's good to be able to daydream into a child's world of wonderment and life's most beautiful lessons are learned. Most of us can recall at least one gold an afternoon. An afternoon away from the world of reality that's often so thoughtless. If the world today needs anything, it's first a renewal of faith, a renewal of trust in God and in his eternal providence. If only all of us could get back to those simple truths, if only all homes would get back to the daily practice of family prayer, this indeed would be a better and a happier world. A world where there would be true brotherhood of all men and the lasting fatherhood of God. Let us tonight make this simple dedication of our families to God. Let us dedicate a short period every day to the practice of family prayer in our homes. For there is a joy and a happiness in daily family prayer and there is this lasting assurance that the family that prays together stays together. Before saying goodnight, I'd like to thank Tom Conway and Natalie Wood for their performances this evening. Our thanks to John Slott and Emil Frank for writing tonight's play and to Max Tur for his music. This production of Family Theatre and Corporate was directed by David Young. Others who appeared in tonight's play were Virginia Gregg and Whitfield, Dick Ryan, Fred Shields, Hard McNeer, Earl Keane and Psy Kendall. Next week our Family Theatre stars will be Joan Loring and Louise Beavers in Fear is a Little Word. Your host will be Bob Crosby. This is Maureen O'Sullivan saying goodnight and God bless you. This series of the Family Theatre broadcast is made possible by the thousands of you who felt a need for this kind of program and by the mutual broadcasting system which has responded to this need. Be with us next week at this same time when our Family Theatre stars will be Joan Loring and Louise Beavers with host Tony LaFranco speaking.