 Remember a Hallmark card when you carry enough to send the very best. A man's mother on the Hallmark Playhouse. The distinguished novelist, Mr. James Hilton. Gentlemen, this is James Hilton. Tonight on our Hallmark Playhouse we present a dramatization of a story very appropriate for this week. A story called A Man's Mother by Gladys Hastie Carroll. It tells of a mother whose heart was both warm and strong. A mother who wanted to go on giving to her children as well as to take from them as the years advanced. Perhaps only mothers know what strength there is in motherhood and what wisdom also. And something of this message comes into our story handled by Miss Carroll with much liveliness and sympathy. To play the part of the mother in our story we are privileged indeed, for we have with us tonight none other than the first lady of the American theater, Ethel Barrymore, whose name is part of the history not only of the stage but of our times. And now a word about Hallmark cards from Frank Goss before we begin the first act of a man's mother. When you want to remember your friends there is one way to be sure the card you send receives an extra welcome. Look for that identifying hallmark on the back when you select it. For words to express your feelings and designs to express your good taste, that hallmark on the back is your guide. Like the sterling on silver it's a mark of distinction that all quickly recognize and it tells your friends you cared enough to send the very best. And now Hallmark Playhouse presenting Gladys Hasty Carroll's A Man's Mother starring Ethel Barrymore. When a man has come to the age of maturity and success it's only natural he should feel a great responsibility for his mother that he should want to do for her every single thing that he can. And Carl Webster now of New York City was like that. But some mothers are in kind to see things from a different angle. And Carl Webster's mother was like that. My goodness, no one appreciates what her children want to do for her more than I do. Makes her mother feel proud and warm inside when her children show real concern for her. Still, just because you're 73 doesn't mean you're exactly helpless so that you have to have everything done for you. Trouble is, it's hard to make them understand that without hurting their feelings. But mothers have a way even at my age. When you suddenly was up with my daughter Dorothy told me that Carl was coming up to very soon, all the way from New York just to see me. I knew pretty well what that suddenly was. It wasn't too hard to imagine what those two would be talking about driving down from the depot. I tell you Carl, I'm just at my wit's end about her. She insists she's going back to the farm as soon as it's warm enough. And nothing I can say makes any difference. She just goes right ahead getting ready. You mean she wants to go live there alone? Yes. And it worries me Carl. For fear you'll think we haven't treated her well this winter. But you ask her yourself when we get to the house. You just ask her Carl. And she'll tell you we waited on her by inches, both the young ones and I. Yes, an ad too. I've cooked for her every meal just exactly what she wanted. Whenever she'd say. Mary Sue has carried her crackers and tea the first minute mother stirred every morning. But we put all the most comfortable furniture in her room. Still of course she had the run of the house, but we can't do one thing with her. She's been talking about going back to the farm all winter. Well, darling, don't you worry. I'll have a good talk with her and everything will be all right, you'll see. Well, I hope so. I've warned her how strange it'll seem to her there with Evie gone. And I keep reminding her how nice and careful you planned everything as soon as Evie died. But she just will not listen to one word from me. It doesn't just blow in my breath against the wind. She'll listen to me, darling. You just leave this all to me. Of course, I'm only too glad to Carl. But whether she'll take it calm while you're talking to her and then simply rebel or whether she'll go to pieces and have to stare through something, I just don't know. Ah, don't you worry, darling. Mother and I understand each other pretty well. But there won't be any trouble. Don't you worry. They didn't say all that or in just that way. But I'll bet my bottom dollar they cover the subject. I could tell that by the way he looked when he came into my room. He was kind of a worry in his eyes. It showed through his tired look from working too hard in the city. That made me feel all the more than what I was going to do was right. He did try to appear cheerful like nothing was the matter at all. But it's hard for a man to fool his mother. Hard one to kiss. But you can't get away from me anymore. Never was one for useless sentimentality, and you know that. Sit down, Carl. How'd you leave Nina? Why didn't she come too? Well, I'll tell you, Mother, you see, I made up my mind kind of sudden and she had a lot of meetings scheduled. She's in the Red Cross work, head over heels as usual. And besides, since I was coming by train... Something new for you, isn't it? Getting about by train? Any reminder to Carl? Oh, no, Mother, but I thought I'd save time traveling by night. Pretty busy at the office right now, so I'm kind of in a rush. And this way, you see, I get here in good season in the morning and I have my daylight hours for visiting with you. You're going again tonight, then? Oh, no, no. Not until 11.10 tomorrow morning. So, we've got the whole of the day and this evening, as long as you feel like sitting up, and the best part of tomorrow morning too, Father. Pretty good, isn't it? Well, yes, of course, it's better than nothing. Still, I'd rather you'd waited until you could stop long enough to get a little change for yourself if you look to me as if you stayed shut in too much. Oh, I don't know, Mother. Yes, you do. Reminds me how your father said when you went off to college, there he's going, going to shut himself up to learn how to live shut up. What you need, Carl, is a couple of weeks anyway to roam the field just the way you used to to go off fishing down the brook with some meat and biscuits to the paper bag in your pocket. Remember? How good your little pickles used to taste when I fried them and caught me with supper as soon as you got home. Oh, good, I'll say they tasted good. Why, I've told people who get excited about broiled brook trout in fancy New York places that they didn't know what fish could taste like. My mother, I've told them. Yes, son. Throw this actin on the end of the bed there. But, Mother, are you sure that... Well, I mean, at your age, after all... It's got my legs so they feel as if they were in an oven. I'll let Mary Sue lay it over my lap because she wanted to be sure you'd see it. You've been working on it all winter, wasted time seeing me. I'm managing not to say so, poor young woman. I'm sure she's never all right. Well, of course she did. There's so little Dorothy in there, and you too. Let's see, we were talking about your pickerel. Of course, as I'm here, I don't even have a chance to cook a fish or anything else. I can't even boil a pot of coffee, and I do think Dorothy makes the worst coffee I ever put my mouth to. Thick and rank, it's terrible. I don't know what she can do to coffee taste as bad as hers does. I'm sure I don't. Well, now, Mother, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't have a place fixed up somewhere to plug in a coffee pot and maybe a toaster. There's plenty of reasons, even if you don't see it. One is that Dorothy will be so hurt she'd have her never-get-over-let tears come to her just as easy cause they ever did. Another reason is meals have to be cleaned up after. I haven't got anything to clean up with. Dorothy wouldn't let me use it if I had. To be in here wiping and brushing and cutting around till noontime every day. I try to keep out from underfoot. Now, now, Mother, I'm sure that Dorothy... But the first reason is I don't like your electrical contraptions. I always made my coffee out of stove. I don't like toast, either. I always had warmed up potatoes and a piece of meat or an egg and some good fresh bread and donuts for my breakfast. And you know it. I always said I never was myself like I got a good healthy breakfast into me and now I never get one. I've had one for six months. Yeah, I can see how you feel all right, Mother. Still, it seems to me... No, I said my piece. Now, what are you called? What set you out to make this rush visit? I know something did. What are you here for? Don't be about the bush. That's all in Dolly's imagination. I know that, Mother. It's just too silly. Why, you've got too much sense to even think about such a thing, going back to the farm to live all by yourself. I may be feeling a little cramped here. I'll sure see that I can do to get to Ed and Dorothy to get into a bigger place before next winter. Don't you worry, Mother. Everything's going to be all right. Just right. What's the good of having a son if he doesn't look after his mother and see that she's kept safe and well and happy? Hmm. I'll see what you mean, Carl. It didn't even come so far to tell me that I put that in the letter as well. It ain't right you should be bothered this way. Mother, quite Mother, I... I never meant to be a bother to you, never, Carl. You've been a good boy, good son all your life. I want you to remember as long as you live that I said so. No, Mother. You plan everything as you see fit, Carl. I shall make any trouble. Well, settle then. I had a feeling Dolly was exaggerating. Well, now, what do we do the rest of the day? My goodness, it's only half past nine. You want to just sit and chat here where you're comfortable, or...? No, Carl, I'll tell you. It's come up a nice warm day. It's not likely it'll turn cold at nightfall. Couldn't the two of us have one more night alone together in the old place? You mean you want me to take you out to the farm? Right now? My dear, some good son, too. Well, I don't see any great harm in it, as long as you feel up to it. Oh, don't you worry about me, Carl. Uh, no, I'll tell you a motive, Mother. I don't know what you're talking about. All right then. My George will do it. Well, we did it. I had already helped me pack what we thought we'd need, and Carl put it all in Ed's car. I had him stopped by the general store for a few supplies, and we were off up to the hills. That's when I was sure I was on the right track. I don't know which of his most excited Carl, me. I think it was Carl after we got on the old dirt road. How did that old poem go? Backward, turn backward, no time in your flight. Make me a child again, and just for tonight. We'll return to the second act of a man's mother starring Ethel Barrymore. Of all the gifts you could give your mother next Sunday, there's one she'd treasure above all others. It's to help you express your love that we have Hallmark Mother's Day cards. You'll find words that seem to be written just for the two of you, words that she will treasure and long remember. And on Hallmark cards, you'll find these words surrounded by beauty everywhere, in the design, in the paper, in the way the words are printed, in the feeling behind the words. Yes, you'll find a Hallmark card to say just what you want to say to your mother, and to all the mothers you want to remember on Mother's Day. It's a perfect time to say thank you to show to them the thoughtfulness they show to others throughout the year. And when you send a card with Hallmark on the back, it shows not only that you care, but that you cared enough to send the very best. Now back to James Hilton and the second act of a man's mother starring Ethel Barrymore. There's nothing like the spring of the year to wake up your memories, and no sites like the old familiar ones to take you back to childhood. Carl Webster's mother had counted on that, and driving out to the old place that morning, she was pretty sure she'd been right. Watching him as he drove through the countryside, I could see that he wasn't going to give me too much trouble. Carl's eyes went from the road, it was smoother now for the same familiar curves to the dark, clean brook running alongside into the farmhouses, still tealing paint, sitting in the stony fields like barred rock hens roughing their dusty feathers. At one place, the man was plying a single horse, and another two barefoot children were dropping potatoes along open roads. Oh, gosh, brother. It doesn't seem so long ago that I was doing that myself. Not too long ago. Your father used to mark the roads with the corner of a hole. And I had to be ever so careful to drop the potatoes in just the right place. That the hills should be just so far apart and no further. Now there was always a smell of lilacs that planned him down. And wild pear blossoms. Well, it's all still here, just like it always was. Yes, in the middle of nowhere. It sure would be crazy for you to try to live out here all by yourself. I'd forgotten how far apart these farms are much. No doctor nearer than town, and the telephone wires down after every storm. It just wouldn't be safe, that's all. Not at your age, mother. He was thinking of me, of course, but I was thinking of him. The old place, like the countryside around it, looked about the same as always. Carl maybe sat on the shelter back, stooping the sun and out of the wind while he got roaring fires going in both stoves. I didn't object too much to start him into the swing of things and the me of the warm sun felt good. And the hickory wood burning smelled good. Well, I will have the dampness out of there in no time now. The old place looked good to you, mother. Needs tending to him there. Two or three dead trees in the apple orchard should be replaced. Corn crib needs popping up, too. Don't like to see it neglected like this somehow. Looks pretty good to me. Your father always said it would be a shelter and a haven for your children. If the time ever came, you needed it. Well... The way things are looking now, a farm is a pretty good piece of property to have. Well, time is a fleeting. It's a good thing you had more in to clean up this spring. Sure looks spick and span. Hmm. Lord Baskham's a pretty good hand to clean, but whiffle-minded and always has been. Never know how to put dishes back in the cupboard in the order she took them out and there's always at least one place she misses like this closet under the stairs. Take the wood box out and sweep it before you fill it. Carl, I'll just scrub out the pebbles before you get the water. Then you go down the cellar and see what the wind has done to it. Well, I make the beds. Oh, you can set the table if you want to. I got the windows open upstairs and fresh sheets on, the beds airing out. Carl, you forgot the napkins. You got the tumblers on the wrong side of the plate. Oh. Won't you ever learn there's a right way to wrong ways, the fellow says. Seems though the wrong way always comes first. I don't like the looks of that water. Here's a pair of your father's overalls. You see, that spring don't need cleaning out. Okay, Mother. Not now. Well, we brought along the doers for the noontime. Before I leave here, I want my fillers in decent tasting water. How folks live with all these chemicals they're swallowing nowadays. Hot biscuits and chopped pickles and tea and hot apple pie, that's all. I wish we had that radish as we're up. And peas, Mother, and cucumbers. I know it. I've always been patient for green stuff to grow almost before it's planted. It won't be long now. I just look out there. Well, I'll be kind. Morris has planted right over here this year, hasn't he? Seems as though it won't be very handy so far from his house. I know it. I thought of that myself. Guess he don't mean to let any of his land run down the way ours has. Morris basket is one that tends to things pretty close. Then I'll do up a few dishes, Carl. Good, Mother. I want you to see if you can catch a fish. Your old bamboo pole's right where you always kept it on the shed door there. Don't bear the worms back to close your eye, they always were. But the spring, I thought you wanted me to... Tend to that. Well, I'm fine, the fish. You go along now. Mother, you're up to something. Of course, I've got my mouth all fixed with mess of Pickerel. Scoop! About Pickerel, all right. Carl got four. Small ones, but enough of the tour, Mr. Supper. While he was gone, I dug up some dandelion greens and fixed them the way I know he likes them. I boiled right in with the potatoes. I rolled the Pickerel in cornmeal like all the... well, I don't know if it was the supper or the fishing or working on the well, or maybe just the spring and being back in the old place again that did it. But the years just seemed to have rolled off, Carl, that day. He helped me wash up the dishes and took the milk and butter down the cellar and got in some more wood. Then we sat down beside a city roof stove with a kerosene lamp on the table. The way we used to before, he went away to college. He told me all about his life in New York, his business, his problems. That's when I knew the time had come for me to stop beating around the bush. Only I couldn't let him know just like that what I'd been thinking about, what I'd been planning. Getting kinda late, isn't it, son? Almost midnight. Yeah. You know something? It doesn't mean good to have a chat like this with his mother. Like when I was a kid and used to bring all my troubles to you. Seems natural here somehow. Talk like this, even though, well... Even though you're a man now and have a family of your own? And I'm 73? Well, yeah, something like that, I guess. Son, let me tell you something. 73 isn't nowhere near as old as it seems to somebody who's 45. Or do you think 45 is as old as 17 thinks it is? Well, no, gosh, Mother. You get old only when you stop doing for yourself, especially when you've done for others all your life. I wasn't gonna say this, but maybe I better now that we're talking, Carl. The only reason a woman wants children is to do for them. When she can't do that, she's willing to die. Oh, now, Mother, I don't think so. And when her children turn around and start doing for her what they think she ought to have done for her, she wants to die because she's heart sick. Because she somehow's on the wrong end and everything's unnatural and shameful to her. But, dolly, and I... I know this is harsh talk, Sutton. It's hard for a mother to say these things to her children. You and Darry, they've been all right, and so did he be. What a mother needs, Carl, is to do useful things, things that'll make her feel that she's wanted, that she's needed. Sure. Not to be bossed around or into fear, but they're even coddled. Now, you seem different than I do, and you may be right, but the way I think about the farm is that it's a home where all you can come and see me. You and men are the children on your vacations in Ed and Dorothy for Sunday dinners when they feel like it, because they're nearer. And I want to make my own strawberry shortcake for the real shortcake, which is a good, ill-different from a few berries and a double whipped cream on a slice of sponge cake. What's a lot more important than all that, Carl, is that I'm bound to get this farm where it'll be worth something to leave to you, young ones, when I'm through with it. So that's it. I hope you won't have to sell it, because it seems to me families that rent need to know there's a roof somewhere it'll not charge for keeping the rain off their heads and ground where they can raise some to eat. Now, we better get to bed. We'll have to get up early. Start if you're going to catch that train back to New York in the morning. It doesn't leave until 11.10, mother. Oh, I didn't tell you. I got Maris Baskin to drive us into town as an old damn fat wagon. His boy will take the car in. Good night, son. Bain's about ready to pull out, Carl. Okay, Maris. Take care of yourself, son. I will. You know, it's funny how you can live half a lifetime and not know what mother-love really is. You taught me something last night. I'll try to remember. And I think the boys and men will enjoy the farm too, just like I will. Think you're pretty foxy, don't you? Better hurry, son. Goodbye, mother. Won't be long till summer. I'll be waiting. Maris, what are we sitting here for? Oh, I didn't know he was ready. Get up, Ian. Maris, if you don't know the way, I should think you're horsewood. The only way I know to get to your daughter's house? I'm not going to Dorothy's. I'm going back to the farm. The farm? Well, why didn't you say so? Come on around here. Reach my age. It's only natural that he should feel some responsibility for her and he should want to do for all he can. There's no more than right that he should feel that way. That he should want to pay off the accumulation of his childhood debts to her. The only trouble is, mothers don't expect dividends on their love. Not this man's mother, anyway. I said that there are hallmark cards to say just what you want to say to your mother on Mother's Day next Sunday. For instance, you might want to say to her, my heart is filled with memories of happy childhood days, memories of your helpfulness, your understanding ways. And so this comes on Mother's Day to try to tell you part of all the love and thankfulness that always fills my heart. On the other hand, perhaps you'd like to say it this way. I cannot make a flowery speech like lots of people do, but still I want to tell you that I'm mighty proud of you because I think you're pretty swell. In other words, okay. I'll bet it's on account of you they have a Mother's Day. These are just two of the many ways you can tell your mother of your love when you select a hallmark card from Mother's Day. You'll find many more at fine stores where you always find hallmark cards. All are in the good taste you expect from any card with hallmark on the back. And remember, the hallmark on your card is proof that you cared enough to send the very best. Here again is James Hilton. Thank you, Ethel Barrymore. We are honored to have you with us tonight on the hallmark playhouse. And since this coming Sunday is Mother's Day, your performance came very close indeed to our thoughts. Well, it seems especially appropriate for a hallmark playhouse, Mr. Hilton. Hallmark cards always express the appropriate thought for the occasion. Thank you, Ms. Barrymore. What is selected for next week, Mr. Hilton? Next week, we are presenting Carl Van Doren's Pulitzer Prize-winning biography, Benjamin Franklin, the life story of one of the outstanding Americans of history. And also, Ms. Barrymore, we are especially pleased to be able to announce that again, the honored name Barrymore will be on the hallmark playhouse. Your brother Lionel will be here as our star. Oh, it sounds rather like the Barrymores are taking over the ma- Hey, how's it going? We're certainly proud to have both of you, Ms. Barrymore. Our hallmark playhouse is every Thursday. Our director-producer is Bill Gay. Our music is composed and conducted by Bernard Herman. Our script tonight was adapted by Axel Grunberg. Until next Thursday then, this is James Hilton saying good night. We have been carefully selected to give you expert and friendly service. Remember a hallmark card when you carry it up to send the very best. The role of Carl tonight was played by Ted D'Corsia, Margaret Brayton was Dorothy, and Polly Bear Lawrence. This is Frank Goss saying good night to you all until next week at this same time. When hallmark playhouse returns to present Lionel Barrymore in Carl Vandoren's Pulitzer Prize winning novel, Benjamin Franklin, and the week following, George A. Chamberlain's Scudder Who Scudder Hey, starring Lon McAllister. And the week after that, we shall present the story of Johnny Appleseed, adapted from the quest of John Chapman by Newell Dwight Hillis on the hallmark playhouse.