 This is Ronald Coleman inviting you to join Mrs. Coleman and me to the next half hour when our sponsors, the brewers of Schlitz beer, present the Halls of Ivy. The people are doing all over the country. As for Schlitz, the beer that made Milwaukee famous. Schlitz tastes so good to so many people that it's the largest selling beer in America. It has to be fine to be first. Music is in the air of Ivy too. Oh, go on, Toddy. You can make it. I don't want to make it, Vicki. I want to lose it. That musical phrase has been haunting me, trailing through my consciousness like a broken garter. Yeah, I know how it feels. That's why they said you run through your mind. If you just walked, you would catch up with it and kill it. I believe it's from a current digi called the Tennessee Walks. Correct. Two-box favorite. It is. Well, I just set myself up against the popular taste. I've always contended that the popular songs of a nation reflected its current subconscious mood. Now they sound the surface temperament. It's an interesting theory, Doctor. Can you back it up? Certainly. Do you realize that 87 and two-thirds percent of our population is subject to the impact of a current popular melody? Of these people, 48 and one-sixth percent do not realize that the mood induced by this certain tune is reflected in their day-to-day actions, and a 13.7 percent parcel tone depth that it doesn't matter. Oh, why did you find all that out? Where do you get the statistics? Well, any sensible man who embarks upon a ridiculous theory gets them and makes them up. Oh, yes, you're any statistic. The fact that in a loud, firm tone becomes, for the sake of debate, an immediate truth almost never challenged, particularly if the decimal point is yours to create. There's only about a decimal point which seems to indicate the most pain-staking research, and few doubting Thomas' will be unmanly enough to question it. We are a nation of efficiency worshipers, and statistics, but where did this start? Joke boxes, folk songs, decimal points, statistics. Like a man on his way to Alcatraz, you can get a long way from home with one cent. Need observation. Well, thank you, thank you, yes. Did you ever stop to think that 29.4 percent of my conversation was made up of need observation? That 16.9 was composed of complimentary remarks about you, 46.11, not rehearsal chatter, and 13.2 pure nonsense. At the total of 105.61 percent. You're getting some outside help. I give up now. Let's go back and get a jukebox some more. Every day, make a folk song, not go on from there. Well, I've been toying with the theory, and considering that the debate is merely with myself, I haven't talked with statistics. The theory that the current wave of popular music, hillbillies, gradances, waltzes, and reels is highly significant. It's a reaching back for reassurance, a fight from the harsh possibilities of our atomic future. It's rather sad in a way, but then a lot of folk songs are said. They reflect the melancholy spirit of a passive resistance to fate. Even the gaer and more sprightly tunes. You know where someone is going, somewhere with a banjo on his knee, and is it a basically sad song? How am I supposed to have a concession authority on popular music? I'm very welcome. I'm willing to drop the subject here. But if Madame Hoptener sings for Tennessee Waltz at her concert tomorrow night, we can start all over again. Well, the doubt that she will. Well, we've set a pretty high standard with our Ivy Music Concert Series. Pipets, Rubenstein, Marion Anderson, Deadegorsky, Madame Hoptener. You know, a very impressive list of... Of course, forget Tennessee, here's Mississippi. That'll be Calhoun Daddy with the eggs. Well, hi, folks. Hello, Calhoun. Hi, Calhoun. I just come visit you. Well, just for a minute or two, I'm kind of rushed this morning, Dr. Hall. What, an early morning class? No, sir. An early morning, why? I was out getting my eggs this morning about 6 o'clock, and I turned around and there was Lori cleaning up from the book of Mississippi and looking pretty as a peach tree in the rain. Oh. Your wife's here, Ivy? Yes, ma'am. Oh, that's terrific. From over in Egypt brought her up. Egypt? That's a town in Chickasaw County. Oh, oh. All right. I hope you'll bring her over to see us while she's here, Calhoun. Well, I sure would like to, Doc, but she's only going to be staying two, three days. Seems to get right back to her church work. Lori's got a conscience like a probe bumped on its nest. Oh, dear. It's more like a concert. And, sad, do we have an engagement. But we're free tonight, aren't we, William? We are, yes, we are. Well, why don't you and Lori come over for dinner? Oh, Ms. Hall. Lori would be tickled, thinkin' of pink-eyed pigs. Well, I got to hustle that. Oh, by the way, Doc, many happy returns of the day. Well, thank you, but it's nothing like that. Well, to this week, a friend of yours reminds gonna be 387 years old for the mutual friend. Oh, of course, William Shakespeare. Yeah, yeah, it's his anniversary week. And I just feel like congratulatin' everybody. And sundown, I'm gonna close down my bookcase and fire off a salute at 21 signs. Now, are your rights, Calhoun? The tribute is due. It's not of an age, but for all time, as his friend Ben Johnson said, my Shakespeare rise. Now, are the monuments within a tomb and are the rides still while I booked us live and we have wits to read and prayers to give? 387 years old, still goin' strong. Do you think what them Elizabethans would've done if they'd known about vitamins? Well, they'll buy, folks, and I'll tell Lori, it's Doc Hall. Oh, Mr. Wellmer, I'll see you later, Paul. Yeah, we'll celebrate the birthday tonight, Calhoun. Morning, Mr. Wellmer, and so long, Mr. Wellmer. Yeah. Birthday. This evening? This evening. That's what I came to tell you about. This evening. Then there will be a 730. In fact, I, what did it, a last minute of the race, but that's why I'm inviting you personally. She wasn't expected until tomorrow morning that she ride besides the noon. That's why I'm giving her dinner. But Mr. Wellmer had some difficulty in persuading her. She wanted to bed at the wall. She had to... However, I did finally convince her that it was the least she could, I mean, please, to do. I expect you and Mrs. Hall to be there. But, Mr. Wellmer, what is this, Doctor Hall? That, until far, you have neglected to identify the she in your invitation. And furthermore, I'm afraid we have an engagement for this evening. Mrs. Gaby is here from Cebu, going to the city. Madam Hopner is here from Vienna, Austria. Oh, Madam Hopner. Oh, and this is to be a semi-official affair. Ah, Victoria, I don't think that Gaby's on mind if we change our... Did you say Gaby? Yes. Well, now, I say, well, in that case, I'll extend your regrets to Madam Hopner. I trust you have an enjoyable evening. Goodbye. And I'll be delighted to find my own way out. Yes, but, Mr. Wellmer, if you wait, I just... Mr. Wellmer's invitations must be me out of bad check, so you really bounce, don't they? I've never seen one who's drawn with such dexterity. I wonder how one so slight of mind could have mastered such sleight of hand. I was trying to tell him that we should rearrange our plans. Yeah, he seemed off his pleas and excuse to call it off. And as President of Ivy, you probably should go to that dinner. Yeah, that's what I was about to tell Mr. Wellman. I sometimes feel he doesn't like us. I've never known anything so magnificently neutral. Dr. Hall, Ms. Hall, this here's my wife, Lori. Mrs. Gaddy. Oh, I'm so glad to meet you. Come in, Mrs. Gaddy. How are you? Oh, please, just call me, Lori. I'll be looking over Miss Shorty to see who you're talking to. I'm real pleased to meet you. Well, now, here, let me have your coat. Oh, well, what's this, Carol? Oh, Ms. Hall, Lori's been fussing all the way over here because I brought her a guitar. I wanted a thing for you. She is a regular mockingbird. Oh. Let her tell whom they want to hear me. Because they're folks who can appreciate good things. Now, sit down, Lori, and tell me, how's the baby? Oh, little Willie's just as bright as a starry night in the Ponywoods, Miss Hall. Just wait till you sing. Lori brought me that mask. That little bitty old ugly pretty feather on the bed-gas last. That is Willie Todd Hunter Gaddy. Oh, he's a doll. Looks like you. Look. Looks thoughtful. Well, to that age, they tell me I resembled nothing so much as a wax doll with criminal instincts. That's all going to dinner. Yes, yes, and afterward, Lori, we'd love to hear you sing, although we have no established policy of making our guests sing for their lover. Down to the holler of the boys all holler, the boys all holler. Jeb Jones daughter with the low neck collar. She can't cook, she can't sew. She roams the woods like a yearling doe. One, two, three, you can follow me. And Jeb Jones daughter to the sycamore tree. I got a fever in my bones. It's full of sand, my head's full of stones. Got a fever in my bones for the no cap doll of old Jeb Jones. Love is sweet and shy. Don't need to ask which one is best. Take a good look and you know the rest. I do the life to her. Please do your heart like a sizzle down bird. Kiss her once, tell her no more. Tomorrow comes and you're knocking out her door. Oh, I got a fever in my fever in my sister's song. Thank you, Calhoun, for bringing her guitar along tonight. But you never told a showboy for such an artist. Oh, she sings real sweet now, she does. With you out the year in the kitchen at breakfast time. Oh, five children join, and you can still sing at breakfast. Anyway, I think he very, very quiet in his home. And that's for my mama. She always said singing was much better than talking. You never get into any arguments that way. Goers' mama says if you got to pick on something, give a guitar. Yes, she was right, too. Take any four men, no matter what. Calhoun Duggery, they have planned for each other. Organize them into a barbershop quartet and you have some kind of harmony. But with Calhoun's empty of Duggery. You know, it's the next time the board of government... Oh, hey, Doc, you got company. Well, it's unexpected. Excuse me, I'll see you later. Good evening, Doc. Mr. Merryweather, come in. So your lights on, so I thought I'd be the first to bear tidings of mixed horror and hilarity. One, if by land, and two, if by wellman. Whatever it is, come in. Oh, Mr. Merryweather, nothing could be nice. And you know Calhoun Gaddy, don't you? Who doesn't? How are you, Gaddy? Oh, proud is a spotted problem, Mr. Merryweather. I want you to make my wife glory. It's a pleasure, Mrs. Gaddy. Howdy, Mr. Merryweather. Dr. Hall, you must have known what was going to happen at Wellman's Wingding tonight, and that's why you ducked it. Oh, does anything ever happen at Mr. Wellman's Wingding? Nothing good. Just listen. First, there were eggs stuffed with caviar. Pink caviar. But it was in the middle of the Schnitzelala Holstein that the guest of honor turned a hunter's green and fled from the table. Yep, parents sent out an emergency call for Hippocrates, Vespasian, Pasteur, Lister, Osler, the Mayo Brothers, and Flossy Nightingale. Madam Huffman should have been forewarned about Mr. Wellman's banquets. He has the gastronomic judgment of the nearsighted goats. And they're very queasy, queasy. That means it is Mr. Wellman. He don't know his grits or his bravery here at the front. Oh, of course. Well now, how about her concert tomorrow night, Mr. Merryweather? Oh, I guess you pulled through. Just a touch of domain. What about the rest of the guest? Waiting with fear and trembling. I feel as though I'm living on bar of time. You just sit here and think sweet thoughts. Glory is a special favor to Mr. Merryweather. Won't you sing the rock candy mountain? Now, someday remind me to remove the door shut. It would save us a lot of time. Why, Mr. Merryweather? Yes, ma'am, back again on the slightest pretext. You don't need any commanding. Well, hello, doctor. Have you heard the latest about La Hofna? Oh, I haven't been able to break through Wellman's wall of silence yet. Well, get this. Wellman, in honest remorse, tried to make amends to his guests and send her a lavish floral piece this morning. He meant well that much, I concede. Bless his bullet-proof little heart. Whenever anyone says he meant well, that means he's meant a mess of things. Very concisely stated, ma'am. He couldn't have known, that Madam Hofna has an allergy to gardenia as a violent one. And now her sinuses are so badly affected, she won't be able to sing tonight. That nose-gay of his didn't make hers very. Yes, you know what I mean. Well, can we postpone the concert a day or two? No, there's the rub. She'll do back in New York at the Met. If she hasn't recovered by next week, Rudolph Bing may sue us. Or Clarence will cast me to get a replacement. On such short notice, who could we get? Taddy, do you remember what we were saying about folk songs? Uh-huh. Do you suppose Glory could do it? Glory. Calvoon Gaddy's wife? Uh-huh. Say, I'll go for that, doc. Do you think she can fill the shoes of a big opera singer? I think she wears a smaller size. The most thing is an artist, too. Yes, certainly. Just to mention, too, John Jacob Niles and Burl Ives can draw 3,500 people into any auditorium in the country. It's certainly okay with me, but... What about the Ivy Music Society? Well, that's your department, so you'll make arrangements on that end. And you better let Wellman know that you've taken over, but don't tell him it's Calvoon's wife. Uh-huh. Mention the blue-tailed fly to him and he'll be waiting with a swathe. Well, I don't think Clarence is going to have much to say for a few days. Say, what are we going to call this girl? We'll let you the maiden name, Glory Goliathly. Glory Goliathly. Hallelujah. Ever since it may sound, I'd say that if Hawthorne and I hadn't lost the power, we'd never have the glory. The horn she's changing her dress in the back. Ms. Hall, you should have singed, Glory, when I told her. She lit up like a campmaid. She's been fussing to wear that there party dress ever since she got it for Aunt Effie's funeral. Well, oh, there you are, Glory. Oh, you look just plain delicious. Hey, all right, Ms. Hall, it's real saddened. Yeah, it's lovely, Glory. Lovely. Uh, what do you think, William? Me? Oh, ah, yes. Well, I, uh... Yes, yes, it is saddened. And then bold. Glory, you as fluffed up as a new busted cotton ball. Now, do you know, Calhoun, I don't think it does justice to Glory. Don't you like it, Ms. Hall? Well, it's not bad. It's just that it takes away from you. I liked that bundle of certain flowers you wore last night. Oh, stage? Well, those are just miraculous clothes. The simpler the dress, the more appropriate for your folk balance. Just a guitar, a girl, and her song. But, Dr. Hall, you don't want me to sing them old things for all those people? That was my idea. What did you all have in mind? Oh, I've been practicing up all afternoon on some real good tunes. I thought I'd begin with, baby, it's cold outside. Baby, it's... Well, then I could sing La Vie en Rose, and maybe end with, um, I love you truly. Yeah, Glory, eh, if you don't mind a suggestion. I think all those are fine, but they're a little too familiar. I liked the songs you sang for us last night, and I'm sure the audience would love them too. They're just heavy on this whole. I like them, but they're so old. They're never lasting in you, Glory. I have no objection to popular songs, but they march in and march out with the hit parade. Your songs started somewhere beyond memory, and they never die. Oh, Dr. Wright, sugarfoot, you know Dernwell, you learned them from your mom, and she learned them from her mom, and she learned them playing back for anybody was born. When the only guitar was on wind through the cap, they... Well, if you all think so, I don't mind. I just thought you wanted me to put on a show. Last night, Glory, you told us that you sing for only one reason, because you like to. That's the best reason, and that's why your singing makes others happy. Happiness is contagious, and if the virus is ever isolated, it'll probably be music. So, just sing that way tonight, and he'll all be a show. More attention for a moment. I look out to announce that due to an unfortunate sudden illness, Madame Latte-Hutner cannot appear tonight. However, we... we are going to hear another artist this evening, a folk singer. All great masters drew deeply from the treasury of folk music. As Vaughan Williams, the great British composer, has put it, at the root of the musical quality of a nation lies the natural music, or simplest and clearest manifestation as the folks are. And where can we look? Sure, a proof that our art is living than in that music which has for generations voiced the spiritual lungs of our people. Ladies and gentlemen, I'm proud to present Miss Glory Gorlite. Did you enjoy the concert? Yes, I did. It was different, but I never thought I'd do well. Yes, I did. She's on the road to New York. And I mean, she's gone. No, that is, she's left. Well, it was regrettable to Mr. Wellman. Yes, yes, well, it was very unfortunate, but as it turned out, I see, Dr. Horl, everything turns out to the best. The music society came through in the crisis. Ivy can be proud. We can all be proud. And I can be proud. Such a brilliant surprise. Congratulations, Clarence. No matter what, I really did nothing, but I do feel that after such a tragedy, and by the way, I'm suing the grocer who's only that heavy heart. But this young lady who replaced our celebrity deserves the highest praise. I'm just on my way to pay my respects. Where is she? Miss Glory. Mr. Wellman, I'm glad to introduce you to her. You know her, Dr. Horl? Yes, I do. This way, Mr. Wellman. Thank you, Miss Wellman. Yeah, thank you. Excuse me, Calvary. Glory. I don't believe you've met the chairman of our board of governors. This is Mr. Clarence Wellman. Howdy, Mr. Wellman. Mr. Wellman, this is Miss... Young lady, you were magnificent. You saved the day. There we were. I'm the halls of the dilemma. Mr. Wellman, what is it? I don't believe you've got the name. This is Mrs. Gathe. How do you do, Mrs. Gathe? Mrs. Gathe? Mrs. Gathe? Mrs. Calvary Gathe. Mrs. Calvary Gathe? Mrs. Calvary? Well, yes, I... Well, naturally I... He's a fast man with five children. Congratulations, Mrs. Gathe. Good night. Oh, my... When did that girl mind that she could make a career out of her singing? Why should it? She has a career already. Yeah, she has her name in life as a wife and mother. But you, my sweet, you were an established success, and you gave up your star status to become just plain, beautiful, Mrs. William Tartlander Hall. Oh, darling, darling. I didn't give up a thing. In fact, I'm currently appearing in my greatest vehicle called Teacher's Pet and Beautifully, which has looked due for a very long time.