 The Mutual Broadcasting System in cooperation with Family Theatre Incorporated presents Mr. Birthday, starring Jean Lockhart and Jean Raymond. Anne Blythe is your hostess. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. Isn't it true most of us have moments of discouragement? And sometimes they come when we have tirelessly done our best, only to see our efforts misjudged and criticized. Oh, I don't mean we should begin to feel sorry for ourselves. I'm talking about the unnecessary misunderstandings and criticisms that happen in a home. You know, a good home is a place where there is mutual trust and encouragement and forgiveness. These are the things that make for a full life, for happiness and success. And family prayer brings trust and encouragement and forgiveness into a home. Why? Well, when a family joins together to express their faith and trust in God, when they ask His help and forgiveness and family prayer, there's a new spirit of faith and trust in one another, a new spirit of mutual encouragement and forgiveness. You'll find that family prayer brings these things to a home. It happens that way. Yes, a family at prayer is a family at peace. A prayerful home is a happy home. Ann Blythe, your family theater hostess for this evening, will speak again following tonight's presentation, Mr. Birthday, starring Jean Raymond and Jean Lockhart. I'm Tom West. I'm a reporter for the Evening Dispatch. And I guess I have the softest newspaper job in the world. All I do is write around the limousine with a pleasant little old man, write a feature story about him every day. Well, maybe it doesn't sound exciting to you, I've been in a spin ever since I met the old fellow about six months ago. You see, it happened this way. I was out on the story for the dispatch talking with a Mrs. Varga in her dingy three-room apartment in the Tenement House district. It was a hot and sticky day. I don't see why your paper is interested in me and my children, Mr. West. Now, we're interested in doing these articles to see if we can improve the crowded Tenement House condition. I am not complaining. I know. We have a roof over our heads. There is enough to eat for all of us. Oh, it is not nearly so good as this in the old country where my sister still lives. Well, my newspaper thinks conditions like this can be made better. Should be made better. And so weird. I saw him. I saw him. I saw his auto. Oh, he won't come here. He doesn't know about me. Well, that's what you think. He didn't know me either, but he did. Boys, boys, don't you see I have a collar? Oh, I'm sorry, Mom. But the kids said that's enough, Teddy. Go back outside. I'll call you when something to eat is ready. Can I stay in here just until he... just for a little bit, please? I'll be quiet. They don't bother me, Mrs. Barger. Are these your children? That is. Villy lives upstairs. I have two other boys and one girl. A fine family. And they're fine children, too. Oh, it's always that way. No, no, all day long. Oh, that's him. Well, I'll betcha. Say, maybe... Yeah, that's the way he knocks. Always is a salesman, all day long. Excuse me. Mrs. Barger. Mr. I don't want to buy anything. That's what everyone says when they see my bundles. But I'm not selling anything. I came to see Teddy. May I come in? Teddy? Is he in trouble, Mr.... I'm Teddy, Mr. Of course. So you are. Shake hand, sonny. Happy birthday to you. What? Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Teddy. Happy birthday to you. She was. His birthday. He's nine today. Oh, that's why I'm here, Mrs. Barger. There are lots of people who have so many other things to worry about. They forget their children's birthdays. So I drew the remembering for them. Here, Teddy. Some presents for you. Gosh. Oh, that for me? All for you, Teddy. He's a fine boy, Mrs. Barger. Well, I'll be off. This is my busy day. Hey, Teddy. So long, everyone. Well, let's see what you got, Teddy. Yeah, open them up. Oh, here, let me open them. Boys, please. I wouldn't have missed that for anything. I'd like to have met your funny friend. You see, one of your neighbors. Friend? Neighbor? I never saw the man before. Really? You mean he's a stranger? Oh, he's around this neighborhood lots of times. He brings presents to the kids. You mean he's a kind of birthday man? Yeah, I guess so. Say... I want to talk to him. Yeah, I'll be back later. Oh, boy, what a yarn this is. An interview with Mr. Birthday. Well, I missed him that day. And the next. In fact, it was nearly two weeks before I ran across him again in the same neighborhood. He was an odd little man with a twinkle in his eyes and a perpetual grin. And he never seemed to walk. He bounced. He was bouncing out of another tenement building and driving away. I had a little luck grabbing a taxi. Yeah, mister? Follow that green car and step on it. You cop, mister? No, I'm a reporter. And there goes the biggest news story of the year. Don't let him get away. But you okay, but if you was a copper chasing that old geezer, well, I'd let him lose us in a hurry. He's okay, see? Maybe he acts crazy, but take it from me, but he's got a heart as big as a... I've been hunting him for two weeks. Don't worry, I'll stick to him like a bloodhound. Add up. Mr. Birthday finally stopped in front of another tenement. He took a couple of packages from his auto and scooted into the building. I paid off the cabbie and then I got an idea. I jumped into the old fellow's car and waited. And when he came back... Oh, I beg your pardon. I thought this was my... Why? It is my car. Young man, what are you doing in my automobile? Waiting for you. I'm Tom West, evening dispatch. Oh, well, glad to know you. Now, if you won't think I'm rude, I three or four more calls... I just want to talk to you for a couple of minutes, Mr. Birthday. Huh? What's that? What did you say? What did you call me? Mr. Birthday. I don't know your real name. That's great. Yes, that's wonderful, Mr. Birthday. Oh, I like that. What is your name? That's it. You just said it, Mr. Birthday. Now, but please, I do have to get along. Now, wait a minute. Can't we talk just a little? There are so many things I want to know about you. Why? Well, I told you, I'm a reporter. I need more facts from my story about you. A story about me? Sure, I want to know more about what you're doing and why and what you expect to get out of it. What I expect? Young man, look me straight in the eye. Now, tell me, my lad, do you honestly think I profit out of what I'm doing? Do you? Well, maybe I didn't exactly say it the way I meant it, but now look, Mr. Birthday, let's be practical. What's your racket? What's the pitch in this birthday gimmick? I can't talk any longer. Now, wait a minute, Mr. Birthday. I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn. Maybe you wouldn't mind if I rode along with you, huh? Well, provided you don't ask me to do any talking for publication. Okay, let's go, Mr. Birthday. I will write a thing against your wishes. But I'm going to try a dog on hard to get you to change your mind. No publicity. I'm running some kind of a racket. Well, my boy, you just keep your eyes and ears open for the next hour or so, and then you will know the whole story and you will realize why it would be wrong to print anything about it. Mr. Birthday, I'll bet you at dinner tonight that you are wrong. I'll bet I get your permission to write a story. That's a fair bet. Oh, isn't it a glorious day? Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday... Not exactly, but I've never climbed so many steps as I've done in this past hour. I suppose you had to live on the top floor in one of these ten minutes. I'd rather not think about it. How many more calls to make? Just one. Jimmy's the last one today. I've gotten a terrific wallop out of all this. Watching the kids' faces light up when you're handing their presents. Sing you a little song for them. Yeah, it's wonderful. A while ago, you asked me to apologize for that question. Forget it, Tom. Forget it. Here's Jimmy's plate. I hope he's home. Jimmy, may I come in, please? Hello, Jimmy. Nobody's home but me. If you want, Mommy, better come back tomorrow. No, Sonny, I came to see you. Why? Why, you've been crying. Yeah, let's get rid of some of those tears. Huh? For me? Yes. I ain't been crying. What do you want, Mr? Listen, Jimmy. Listen. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Jimmy. Happy birthday to you. She... How'd you know that? Why, Jimmy, I make it my business to know. I know your mother's working tonight and I know, at least I suspect, she's been so busy trying to earn money from the rent. She didn't remember your birthday today. Am I right? Yeah. Yeah, only... I just figured she forgot. I never thought why she didn't remember. Come here, Jimmy. Sit down on this sofa. Yeah, beside Tom and me. There. Do you see this box? That's your birthday present. And this one, and this. Mine? Uh-huh. Oh, gosh, Mr. Wait, that's the most I ever got on my birthday. I always had it sort of imagined like I was getting lots and lots of things. I'd pretend I was having a big party with ice cream and cake. Jimmy, before you get too absorbed in those boxes, I want to tell you a little story about a boy I knew, at just your age, too, and who had the same disappointments you've had. Is it some kid I know? Hank Peters, maybe? Oh, I know Hank, too, but that's not who it is. As a matter of fact, he isn't a kid anymore, I'm talking about. But when he was, his mother was poor. She did dressmaking when she could. She counted her pennies very carefully to make sure that this young fellow would have enough to eat. And it wasn't easy for her, either. I'll tell you that. My mom's always had to work, and work hard. I know. And just like this young fellow I'm talking about, I guess you've had a pretty lonesome time when your mother's away working every night, huh? Yeah. Well, my friend used to see other kids as they had gifts, but, well, he just never had anything like that at all. And that's why it hurt so much when nobody remembered to say happy birthday to him. And each year he'd wait, and nobody'd remember. And then at night, he'd crawl into bed and pray that next year somebody would think of it. And he'd say to himself, happy birthday. And cry himself to sleep. Gee, I know how he felt all right. That's why I was crying when you came in. But I didn't want to say so. Oh, it's nothing to be ashamed of, Jimmy. Why, even grown men cry. A little bit. Now then, I wouldn't give you two cents for a man who couldn't cry. It felt like doing it. I guess I was just sort of lonesome or something. That's it, sure. Well, anyhow, this boy made up his mind that when he grew up, if he had enough money, he'd try to see to it that other boys and girls with forgotten birthdays would be surprised from him. He'd remember them, and he'd drop in to see them just for a minute and let them know that at least he remembered. Just like you did tonight? Well, yeah, just like I did. Well, Jimmy, when your mother comes home from work tonight, you give her a great big hug and thank her for being your mother. Well, that's even more important, I think, than having her tell you happy birthday. Gosh, when you think of it, she's the one who ought to get a present on my birthday. Well, she already did, Jimmy. She got you the finest little present any mother would want. Come on, Tom. Good night and lots of luck to you, Jimmy. Well, Tom? Dinner's on me, Mr. Birthday. You win. Fine dinner, Tom, and I was pretty hungry, too. So was I. Waiter, check, please. Just a minute. Waiter, I'll take that. Oh, you mean it's mine. I lost the bet. I'm not going to write the story. Tom, I'll be disappointed if you don't. What is all this? I'm just a batty old man exercising a woman's prerogative, the right to change her mind, and I've changed mine. I don't get it. Back there at Jimmy's house, I sold myself on a story. You mean the story you told the kid? Were you just trying to make him feel a little better or was there really a boy like that? Both, Tom. And that boy's a pretty old boy now, isn't he? Knocking himself out, hustling around to see youngsters on their birthdays. It's funny about most people who've grown up, Tom. They forget so easily what it was like being a kid. Is that why you decided to change your mind about the newspaper story? Oh, that. I'm sorry. I guess I was wandering a little. I started to say that as things are now, I only see 20 or 30 youngsters a week because I don't have any more birth dates than that. Now, maybe if you wrote a story saying that your paper wanted to know the birthdays of all the children in town, we'd get lots of new names, we'd get addresses. Say, that's it. That's it. Mr. Birthday Only. Now, wait a minute. There's got to be more to the story than that. We've got to tell about you. Oh, you just try to keep out of it. Well, at least let me stay in the background. I'll write the story. And if the people who read it are satisfied to let you stay in the background, fine. Otherwise... You write the story, Tom, and we'll see what happens. Okay. Now, may I have the check? It's the first bet I've ever enjoyed losing. Well, sir, the editor of the dispatch hopped right on Mr. Birthday's bandwagon and gave the story a big spread on page one. Of course, we didn't expect any mail the first day, but we did think we might be a few letters a second. Well, there were a few, but not as many as I'd hoped for. I was feeling low, but not Mr. Birthday. Tom, I think it's fine of your editor to give you this assignment. He said I wasn't allowed to get out of my sight. But frankly, I'm disappointed in getting only 12 letters. Well, I'm not, because I've found that when you try to do something for people, it's awful hard to convince them you're sincere. They're always looking for what they call your angle. Don't rub it in. I'm not. Oh, here we are. Is this Pinky Fisher's place? Uh-huh. He's nine today. I think I hear someone coming. Yeah, what do you want? Mr. Fisher? What's it to you? Well, nothing exactly. I want to see Pinky. May we come in? Oh, no you don't. I see guys like you before work your way into the house and flop down and start selling something. But we aren't selling anything. Oh, you guys bill collectors, huh? Beat it, but I am interested. You want I should hook you down the stairs? I said beat it. Why that big luck? Control yourself, Tom. Poor fella, maybe he's bothered by a toothache. A toothache. I'd like to knock his block off. I hate that. There's going to be any slugging that gets started. I told you to beat it now. I'll wrap you around the old goat's neck. Now, wait a minute. Now, wait a minute. He means business. Hurry, Tom. Yeah, well, I guess he decided not to follow us. He's probably standing outside his door laughing. Oh, well, it takes all kinds of people to... Excuse me, Mr. Huh? Oh, hello, Sonny. You're Mr. Birthday, ain't you? That's right. I'm Pinky Fisher. Oh. I slipped out the back way when I heard Paul giving you the business. You did? Well, good for you, Pinky. You got to excuse Paul. He ain't feeling so well since he got laid off here. Oh. I want to apologize for him. Now, Pinky, you just forget about it. And say, now that you're here... Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Pinky. Happy birthday to you. Guy, that sure is well-singin'. Thank you, Pinky. Oh, wait a minute. Here, I'm getting awful tired carrying these presents of yours. Suppose you just take them. And happy birthday, son. And tell your dad I hope he finds a job real soon. Yeah, you bet. Thanks a lot, Mr. Birthday. Now, there's a kid who'll get along in the world. Any kid will, if he gets half a chance, Tom. It's just a few inches difference between a slap in the face and a pat on the back. All of a sudden, it happened. It looked like every kid in the state had grabbed a pencil and started writing letters to Mr. Birthday. Tom, it's wonderful. All I need now are about a hundred helpers. Not only birthday cards, we've never had an order this large. A hundred thousand birthday cards. Well, it's amazing. It's those crazy people from Hollywood, the picture people. They want to make a picture of my life while they're offering $50,000 for the rights. It's different, you have to grant that. Well, I won't have to endorse any more serials. No, I simply want you to run as candidate for the presidency. But I don't get it. It can't be the Republican or the Democrat, so there's... No, they're starting a new party. They're calling it the birthday party. Believe me, those were hectic weeks for Mr. Birthday. At times, he used to say that maybe he'd just run away from it all, but he never did. He just kept going along, and the way things were arranged, it wasn't possible for him to call on all the children in person. Instead, he sent greeting cards, presents, and a record of the happy birthday song. Of course, he went to see as many youngsters as he could. Then one day something went wrong. He was returning to the new offices we had opened. I met him as he was entering the building. Tom, this has been a bad day. Ever since I got up, I've been bothered by something. Something I should remember, and for the life of me, I don't know what it is. A new address, maybe? I don't know. My mind's a complete blank. Well, don't worry about it. You think of it. Just take it easy. You know, there's something else I don't understand today. What's that? I called on 15 youngsters, and none of them was at home. Now, this is the first time that that has ever happened. Oh, look now, Mr. Birthday. There are a couple of cops standing alongside your car. They look too old to be on my list. Say, I know them. That's Ed Pierce and Joe Rogers, cruiser men. Hi, Joe. How are you, Tom? We're looking for this birthday guy of yours. The chief said to pick him up. I'm Mr. Birthday. Oh, so you're the guy. I don't think we'll need the straitjacketed. He don't look dangerous. Dangerous? Well, I don't understand. Now, remember, Grandpa, anything you say can be used against you. And if you don't want to come along nice and quiet, I'll arrange it. Nice going, Joe. What was that, Tom? I said, let's go on. Let's get going. We got to go along with them now, but we'll find out what's behind all this later. We most certainly will. This is most embarrassing. It's outrageous. Come along, Grandpa. We'll take good care of you. We have a special little place for you. Tom, do you think I'd better see if he has any dangerous weapons? No, no. I believe Mr. Birthday is on arm today. What? Today? You know I never carry a gun, Tom. When I see the chief, I'll give him a thorough tongue lashing. I'd better make a note of that. It's rather than the chief. No, this is really one of your bad days, Mr. Birthday. Have you remembered that stuff that slipped your mind just? How can I think clearly with these men and their high-handed methods? Well, I'll try to think of something to straighten out this little mix-up. Well, thank heaven one of us can still think. I've passed the stage of calm coherence, and I'm rapidly entering at a frantic frustration. Ah, thank goodness you got them to turn off that siren. It was a little raucous, wasn't it? Tom, it doesn't seem to me we're going in the direction of police headquarters. Oh, you're absolutely right, Mr. Birthday. Joe, yes, turn in here. Maybe we can talk this thing over. Here? All the way inside, Tom. Yeah, right, all the way in. Good heavens, Tom. All these people, the municipal stadium. There's the chief, Tom. I better stop right here. Where's the chief? I want to see him. I demand my rights as a citizen. No, no, no. Keep quiet, Mr. Birthday. You better stay in the car. Joe, isn't that the microphone for the stadium's public address system? Now, what do you know? Shoot at his, Tom. Here you are. Perfect. Tom, what are you going to do? Now, quiet. Now, do you just hang on for a moment? Now, quiet, everybody, please. Quiet, please. May I have your attention? Thank you. Now, here in this police cruiser with me is the man you've been waiting for. Tom, please, be careful. Do you know what you're doing? It's Mr. Birthday, and he's in a very bad predicament. All day long, he's been worried over something he thinks he should remember. Tom, of all people to think that you... So, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, we have brought him here for one special reason. Will you tell him what he's forgotten? All the things to forget. This is Anne Blythe again. You know, we all like to feel we can be useful and helpful. One of the great joys in life is knowing that we're useful and helpful in an undertaking that's worthwhile. None of us can be happy if we live only for ourselves, because the job of living comes from giving. Yes, giving ourselves to something we know is bigger and better, worthier and more enduring than we are. That's why the greatest joy in living is giving ourselves to God. And you know, when a family joins together to give themselves to God and family prayer, we're excited in a joy and happiness that only family prayer can bring. I guess we all know from experience that it's true. Whatever we give to others comes back to us in some way or another, and whatever we give to God comes back a hundredfold. So let's give God a little time in our homes each day, and let's take a little time out to join together with our family for family prayer. Then we'll really know how true it is that the family that prays together stays together. Before saying good night, I'd like to thank Jean LaCarte and Jean Raymond for their performances this evening. Our thanks to Jack Price for writing tonight's play and to Max Tehr for his music. This production of Family Theatre Incorporated was directed by David Young. Others who appeared in tonight's play were Nina Barra, Harry Lang, Jerry Farber, Johnny McGovern, Bobby Ellis, Phillip Bernard and Bob Shannon. Next week, our Family Theatre star will be Ronald Reagan in the tin whistle and your host will be Lloyd Nolan. This is Anne Blyde saying good night and God bless you. This series of the Family Theatre broadcasts is made possible by the thousands of you who felt the need for this kind of program and by the mutual broadcasting system which has responded to this need. Be with us next week at the same time when our Family Theatre star will be Ronald Reagan with Lloyd Nolan as host. Merrill Ross speaking. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.