 I was curious. I tasted it. Now I know why Schlitz is the beer that made Milwaukee famous. If you like good beer, you'll find it pays to be curious and learn about Schlitz for yourself. And now the Joseph Schlitz Brewing Company of Milwaukee, Wisconsin presents Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. That's around the speed. Welcome to Ivy. Ivy College, that is, in the town of Ivy, USA. We suppose most people regard a college president, when they happen to think of him at all, as a man concerned only with scholarly matters, such as a fat endowment or a new football stadium. This is a profound misconception. In most respects, college presidents have the same interests we do. At this moment, for example, Dr. William Todd Hunter Hall, the president of Ivy, sets book in hand, seeking the answer to a question millions of thoughtful Americans are asking themselves tonight. Who done it? Mrs. Hall is going over the household accounts. Toddie, the telephone. Toddie, please answer the telephone. I hear it, Victoria, but I don't see it. You were the one who wanted the extra-long extension cord installed. I know I did. I thought it would be a convenience. I didn't foresee it as an endless series of romps through the living room. Do you see it anywhere? It seems to be coming from that part of the room. It's coming from every part of the room. Look under the couch. This is one of the most infuriated... Yes, what is it, Penny? The telephone is ringing, sir. Thank you. We are trying to find it. I found the cord. That's good. Now follow it to the end. It's all right, Penny. Yes, sir. Well, answer it, Victoria. Wrong end. Not again. This happens every time. I can't... Oh, here it is. I've got it. Well done. Now let's see the... It stopped. As it's provoking to think it may have been important. It's even more provoking to think it may have been a wrong number. Stop worrying over it, Toddy. You said you were going to relax this evening. Go on back to your mystery. This is a good one. Yes, very intriguing. And almost as bloody as Hamlet. Like another cushion? No, thank you, darling. I'm quite comfortable. I can reach it. Hello? Yes, speaking. Oh, good evening. Well, fine, thank you. Tonight? Well, yes, if it's really important. When shall I expect you? Very well, then. Yes. Goodbye. The chairman of the board is coming over, Mr. Wellman. I suspect he is bad news for me. He sounded so horribly cheerful. Mr. Clarence Wellman, the stinker. The same. Chairman of the board of governors and spark plug of the let's drive Dr. Hall to an early grave campaign. Oh, dear. Could you put him off? Seems such a shame to let yourself in for such dreadful downers on your one free night. I doubt that I shall find it dull. Wellman and I share a common interest in... I wonder what sort of a nasty bro he's concocted this time. Well, go on. Do drop the other shoe, Toddy. You were saying that you and Mr. Wellman share a common interest. A common interest in what? My job. I have it, and he wants me out of it. He's been after that for years. Pursuing it with a fixity of purpose and the utter lack of humor of a child reading a comic book. Well, there's no point in fretting. Have an apple. Vicki, darling, I love you, but I cannot be soothed with a pippin. Oh, well, I wasn't trying to soothe you, Toddy. He's merely trying to induce you to eat some fruit. You never eat any at all. It's bad for you. Is there any chance of Mr. Wellman getting you out of your job? Oh, not for the next five years. My contract, as you know, runs through 1955. But he seems to have reasoned that if little drops of water can, in the course of time, produce a phenomenon like the Grand Canyon, my need must complete the thought. You sure you worked out pippin? Eh, quite sure, my dear. In my most tranquil moments, I have little taste for apples. I'd even less while awaiting the arrival of a colleague who is seeking to de-horse me. Oh, it's very odd, you know. I should attest fruit, too. It's taken so prominently in my first professional appearance. Really, Victoria? I've always thought of your theatrical career as a series of personal triumphs. Well, it was, it was, for the most part. But not in this particular instance. I was only 15, but rather right for my age. When, um, a comic named Artie Pinheiro offered me a job as his partner in a variety term. 15? I wish I'd seen the act. Oh, you'll change your mind when I'll tell you we were builders. Pinheiro and Cromwell, those funny people. We broke into a small variety house in the East End of London. I liked to think the performance flopped because of its subtlety. What was it like? Well, I'd feed Artie a line, and he'd retort wittily, and then we'd slosh each other about the head with inflated bladders. The harvest of fruit generally occurred after we'd been on about three minutes, and order was not restored until about the sixth chorus of God gave the king. And you still like apples. Well, nine o'clock, Wellman will be here any minute. Oh, Charlie, don't look so concerned. Do you think he's got some particular grudge against him? No, no, I don't think so. No, he's just a sort of an intellectual, Sunday driver. He has no destination in mind and resents being passed by someone who had. Uh-oh, there he is now. Well, Penny'll let him in. You're not really worrying about his visit, are you? No, but the jawbone of an ass is a legendary weapon. And Mr. Wellman being equipped with both uppers and lowers. Whoops, oh, good evening, Mr. Wellman. Good evening, Dr. Hall and Mrs. Hall. Good evening. Come in, come in. Thank you. How are you feeling this evening, Dr.? I'm never better. Should have seen the dinner I ate. Oh, good, good. I really touched it away with both hands. The night didn't die, Victoria. You certainly did. And imagine no sooner had we left the table and settled ourselves in here than he asked for an apple. There you are, William, have one. Thank you, Victoria. Oh, not at all. Would you care for one, Mr. Wellman? No, thank you. Apples do not agree with me. Well, sit down, Mr. Wellman. Thank you. This won't take very long. I seem to have sat on your book. Oh, no, I'm sorry, I must have... Oh, Raymond Harris' latest. He died laughing. Finished it? No, I'm in the middle. I read it last night. Excellent mystery, I thought. Have you guessed yet that the elevator girl, Dolores, is the murderer? No. No, I haven't. I imagine I will very soon, though. Is there anything else you wish to see me about? Oh, yes. I have here a copy of today's edition of the student's newspaper, The Ivy Bulletin. I want to read the editorial to you if I may. Just listen to this. The statements issued by our Board of Governors resemble the peace of God in that they are beyond human comprehension. Never has so much path. What? Let me see that. It's quite the most vicious attack I've ever met. Who's responsible for this? Young Buckley, I presume. Jared Buckley, the editor. I shall most certainly demand a full explanation. The Governors were so incensed with their... The Lord knows of this. They know of this editorial how. I had some other business to take up with them and called an informal meeting early this evening. This was taken up in passing. I naturally assumed they were already familiar with it. Naturally. Everyone knows that prosperous industrialists spend most of their time devouring student publications. It was an irregular meeting. I trust it does not upset you. Oh, not in the least. Victoria, may I have another apple? Of course, yes. Thank you. In June, the board would be familiar with the editorial because of my own interest in the bulletin. I was its editor while a member of the class of 1907. Imagine my horror. I realized they had heard nothing about this editorial and never would have. Had I not brought it to their attention. You must have felt dreadful. I immediately tried to undo the damage I had so innocently caused. I told them I felt certain there were some explanations for an editorial which discussed me and the other members of the board as one would not apply even to a mongrel dog. And that failed to calm them? My efforts to pour oil upon the troubled waters merely incensed them the more. Incredible. They instructed me to go to the root of the matter and to announce to you that they would press for Buckley's expulsion. His immediate expulsion. The decision to expel rests entirely with me. Until I know the full story, I refuse even to consider it. The members of the board are entirely justified in their resentment. But so drastic a step is not to be thought of prior to full investigation. Well, of course, that's a better resting entirely between you and the members of the board, of which I merely happen to be the chairman. Oh, good heavens. Look at the time. I didn't intend to say this long. I must have bored you to death with my dull, sharp talk, Mrs. Hawker. Oh, not at all. Your visit is very stimulating. Gave me all sorts of ideas. Very kind of you to say so. Good night, Doctor. Don't bother to see me to the door. Good night. I want you to know I'm fully aware of how you've gone out of your way in this matter of the editorial. Oh, no, no. Don't mention it. I always like to do whatever I can. Yes, that's what I mean. Good night. You get as bad as it sounds, Don. I'm afraid it'll require more than six choruses of God Save the King to save this act, Victoria. I must see young Buckley at once to determine exactly what prompted his outburst. I have Grogan locate him. I'll call him now. And... Oh, no. What is it, Toddy? It's gone. That leaping telephone has slipped its leash and under cover again. Come on, Dickie. You take that side of the room and I'll take this side. Between us, we should be able to turn it down like this. I was curious. I tasted it. Now I know why Schlitz is the beer that made Milwaukee famous. When you hear a man talk like that, you know he's had a pleasant experience, one that may suggest something equally enjoyable to you. So before we return to the halls of Iowa, starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman, let's hear what happened in a rumpus room when an amateur railroad tycoon entertained a man who could very well be a neighbor of yours. My story concerns a friend who loves to demonstrate the workings of his model railroad and how he put me on the right track to the beer that made Milwaukee famous. Now, if that sounds confusing, it's only because you weren't with me that evening when I helped my friend manipulate his model trains with a skill that would have put Casey Jones to shame. My wife was along, and as she says, you know how men are, so it was evidently no surprise to her that I became completely engrossed in switching tiny streamliners and backing freight cars all over the basement. But what did surprise her was that my enthusiasm for railroading evaporated so quickly. Now, I'll have to admit that my interest in model locomotives collapsed like a punctured balloon the minute that tray came around the bend. Well, the tray held Schlitz beer. Certainly, I was curious. But certainly, my friend, who was so exacting about details in his hobby, would be equally concerned with the fine points of any beer he served. So while everyone else was helping get the trains back into the roundhouse, I was savoring that first taste of Schlitz. Maybe my wife is right. Maybe I wasn't minding my manners, but I've been minding them ever since. For now, when we have callers, I'm a perfect host. I serve Schlitz. And I've never forgotten that I have my friend to thank for putting me on the right track to the beer that, the kind of phrase, established the reputation of a certain city in Wisconsin. What I mean is, no wonder they call Schlitz the beer that made Milwaukee famous. As we rejoin the halls of Ivy, the rather worried Dr. Hall with a touch of nostalgia says, You know, Victoria, there are times when I wish I were a care-free undergraduate once more. Oh, a stretch out on the couch, Toddie. Put your head in my lap. That's good. You know, in those days I used to wear a yellow slicker covered with funny sayings, such as banana oil. And I wore a blazing red felt hat known as a whoopee crusher. And I drove about in a purple, stud-bear cat sounding an enormous plaxon horn in sesambleed. But it was four. Why, I had two. In order not to be conspicuous. We were all alike. I thought the devil's a matter with Grogan and his campus police. Shouldn't take this long to find Buckley. Oh, relax, Toddie. I'm sure it's not the... It's all right. Don't move, Vicki. I have my foot on it. Hello. Speaking. Yes, Grogan, have you found him? Good. Thank you very much. Good night. Young Buckley is on his way over. You won't be too severe with him, will you, Toddie? You can be terribly intimidating, you know. In as much as Buckley stand six feet far and came out of the war covered with decorations for bravery beyond the call of duty, I don't think you need to be unduly concerned for him, Victoria. If you must have fears, let them centre about me. I don't relish this interview at all. I promise to retraction with that smooth things over. I'm afraid not. Mr. Wellman, the entire board, in fact, will be appeased by nothing short of a human sacrifice. My own feeling is that Buckley, as editor, is privileged to express his view right or wrong, subject only to a reply by the board being given equal space and prominence in the bulletin. I have very strong feelings about the freedom of the press. That's one of the reasons I love you, Toddie. You have strong feelings about everything. Thank you, Becky. I also have very strong feelings about the freedom of reading. Our press is free to report and interpret and is also free to distort and suppress. The public is free to read what it will and is also free to disbelieve and go behind the printed word. Free is a short word that goes a long way. It's one of the most beautiful words in our language. Ever since the Chinese invented movable type half a century before Gutenberg, freedom has been moving forward in spite of the few bad publishers and stupid readers. A responsible press and an informed public... Excuse me, am I making a speech again? Er, yes. For the same one you gave the journalism class last month, you fixed it up a little. What do you do if Mr. Wellman insists Buckley be expelled? Oh, I'll fight him. Well, the board may take my contract and... Tell me, is it very difficult to manipulate an inflated bladder? Oh. Before long, you and I may well find ourselves breaking in a new act in the East End of London. It's not so difficult. The crumblin' hall, those two funny people. Tell me, lady, how do you know, Dad, you know how to make a Venetian blind? No, how do you make a Venetian blind? A finger in his eye. I hope your London audience is millered by now. Tell me, Dr. Hall, when did you first begin to suspect that you had an aptitude for the theatre? Oh, I think it was when I first saw you in Give Them Tears in London and returned to see it another 25 times. I'd never before noticed any particular urge in that direction, but it wasn't until our first date that I realized what a talent I had for acting. I remember I'd lost my book of travellers just that afternoon and found myself that evening standing at the stage door, not a penny in my pockets, waiting for the one woman in the world upon whom I wished to make a favourable impression. No, Tati. The casualness with which I masked my agony convinced me the stage had lost the genius when I embarked upon an academic career. So sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Hall. In view of the reward, Miss Crumble, my time was well spent. You... you look very beautiful. Oh, oh, this is for you. Oh, it's lovely. I've always thought a single rose more charming than great big bouquets of them. Really? I'm very glad. I'll wear it in my hair. What made you decide to bring me just one? Did you know I preferred it? No, it seemed like a good idea somehow. May I say its beauty has faded by comparison? Oh, no. And the more ways in which we say it, the happier I'll be. It's foggy tonight, isn't it? Is there a taxi out there? I imagine there must be. I'm absolutely starved. I never eat before a performance and I'm always ravenous at the final curtain. Where are we going? I haven't decided yet. I might go to the Wedgley. The food's heavenly. You very hungry? Well, it's funny, but at the moment I... I seem to have no appetite whatsoever. Well, I think I could eat for both of us. It's foggy. It's extraordinarily thick. Where's the taxi parked? I can't see a thing. I'm completely lost. Oh, well, your driver's probably not waiting for you anyway. Taxes are at a premium on nights like this. Fortunately, the Wedgley's only round the corner. Do I'm walking? Not at all. In fact, I'm in favour of it. You're very quiet. I was thinking. I was thinking that this is like a daydream come true for me. In London, on a sabbatical walking through the mystery of night and fog with you on my arm, the heady mixture for a professor. What would you be doing if you were back home now? On a Saturday night? Oh, I'd find something stimulating to do, I suppose. Drive through the countryside or a concert or a squash game at the club. Really? On a Saturday night, right? Oh, I know. That doesn't sound like much when I tell it, but when you're living it, then it's even worse. But I'll remember an evening like this for the rest of my life. The way it's gone these past few minutes, that is. I think I'd best tell you now that I can't take you to the Wedgley nor any place else because I... I haven't any money. What? I misplaced my traveller's checks. The only money I could raise was two shillings. I borrowed it from the doorman at the hotel. And I spent that for the rose. I'm terribly sorry. Oh, no. Don't apologize, please. How did you get to the theater from your hotel? They're stopping at the Hanover, aren't you? Yes, I walked. All the way? It's the other side of London. Oh, I started around seven. Shall I... shall I take you back to the theater? No. Professor Hall, may I say that never in my life has anyone walked a dozen miles to see me, and I'm very moved. Then I'm glad I ran part of the way. Oh. Do you think you could walk another two miles? Of course. Why? Well, my flat's only two miles away as a perfectly delicious steak waiting, and I happen to be the best cook in the world. Oh, thank you. Thank you. Why not at all, sir? You've lifted a mountain from my heart. Do you mean you want to see him, or don't you? I thought you'd be angry. Why should I be angry? Tadith, anyone to know whether or not to show young Buckley? Buckley? Who's Buckley? Oh, Buckley. Of course. Yes. Oh, yes. Yes. Show him in. Vicki Darling, will you entertain him while I put on a coat? A certain formality is required, and a dressing gown is hardly... Oh, Vicki, of course, of course. I'll be down immediately. Mrs. Hall? Yes. Good evening. Mr. Buckley? Yes, Jared Buckley. Corporal United States Army. Retired. How do you do? Won't you sit down? Thank you. You've never been here before, have you? No, man. This is my first visit to the powerhouse. Is that what the students call it? Yes, ma'am. Well, this fire feels good. Winter is really here, isn't it? Saw a whole cubby of good humor wagons flying south this afternoon. I, uh, I hope this call hasn't inconvenienced you. That's all right. I was out with a girl. Well, the thought seems to sadden you. She annoys me. In my relationship with her, I'm something like the hands on that clock over there. I have the feeling I'm making time, but at the end of the day, I'm right back where I started. Oh. Oh, well. Have you any idea why Dr. Hall wants to see me? Well, he'll be down directly to tell you himself, but I don't think I'm violating a confidence to say it has to do with the editorial in today's bulletin. You mean he read it? He knows most of it by heart. A millennium is at hand. Someone has finally read an editorial in an American newspaper. Is that so very unusual? Unusual. Mrs. Hall, if I were delegated to guard our atomic bomb secret, I couldn't think of a better way than to print them in bold-faced caps as a newspaper editorial. But someone has read an editorial in the bull. We must be getting a following. Oh, yeah. A passionate one. Well, possibly it's deserved. Today's editorial did have a certain style. If you do say so yourself. Oh, I'm not being immodest. I didn't write today's editorial. What's that? I said I did. Oh, good evening, Dr. Hall. You say you didn't write today's editorial? No, sir. It's a reprint. A reprint? What? Of an editorial that appeared in a bull years ago, 40, 50 years ago. Written by a fellow named... Wellman. Clarence Wellman. No. Yes, sir. Is he any relation to the Wellman on our board of governors? They are one and the same. I hope you're not angry, sir. Oh, no. No. No, no. Quite the contrary. I have never been more pleased. Oh, glad. I think you're doing a remarkable job with the bull. Yes, indeed. Yes, sir. You'll be surprised at the comments I've heard. Thank you. Thank you very much. Well, that's all I wanted to say to you. Thank you for coming so promptly. Yes, but what? Well, I mean, I don't understand. Why did you... Well, good night, Mrs. Hall. Good night. Good night, sir. Good night, and thanks again. Don't mention it. Good night. It's good to see you laughing again, Father. Oh, it feels good, too, my darling. Now, will you sit quite still while I make a very pleasant phone call? I don't mind my snooping. I have neither the mind nor the will to stop you. Come closer. Who are you calling? You'll see. Hello, Mr. Wellman. Yes. This is Dr. Hall. I'm pursuing this editorial investigation with all possible speed. Your promptness is most commendable. Thank you. You consider the editorial most destructive, don't you, Mr. Wellman? More than that, a student opinion of this nature can destroy forever the authority of this college. And you feel, then, that nothing short of expulsion would be proper punishment for the author? Beyond expelling him, I personally would like to send him to prison. I consider the writer unfit for any association with ideas. Shall I say that to the board in the morning, Mr. Wellman? I call me. Very well. But before I hang up, I feel that you should know that Jared Buckley did not write it. You did, Mr. Wellman, in 1907. Good night. Oh, I feel so good. Vicky. Would you like to play a game I just thought of? A game or game, darling? I'm going to blindfold you, hide the telephone, then go down to the drugstore and call you up. I was curious. I tasted it. Now I know why. Schlitz is the beer that made Milwaukee faint. And here again are Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. When we get this telephone bill, my dear, don't show it to me, just pay it. Pay it cheerfully. Won't you want to look it over? Not this one, no. My last call was worth the entire bill. So just send a check, even though the charges may seem exorbitant. Any conversation I've had with Mr. Wellman, I am happy to consider a long-distance call. All right. Thank you. Good night, everybody. Good night. We'll be seeing you next week at this time at the Halls of Ivy starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Cole and the other players were Herbert Butterfield, Roland Morris, and Gloria Gordon. Tonight's script is written by Walter Brown Newman. The music was composed and conducted by Henry Russell. The Halls of Ivy was created by Don Quinn, directed by Matt Wolfe, and presented by the Joseph Schlitz Brewing Company of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Ken Carpenter speaking. Next here, we the people over most of the same NBC station.