 Lux presents Hollywood the Lux Radio Theatre brings Eugene Arthur and Brian Ahern in Pigmalion. Ladies and gentlemen your producer Mr. Cecil B. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood ladies and gentlemen. Tonight's play has a different appeal for different people. The George Bernard Shaw who wrote it Pigmalion is about a man who fell in love with a woman of his own creation but Mr. Shaw is only the author. From the standpoint of the woman Pigmalion is pure Cinderella and that gives it a special appeal for every woman. The story of Cinderella will never grow old because it expresses the longing of all women to be more beautiful. Of course the pumpkin coach and glass slippers are a little out of date. Present-day Cinderella's who want to catch the eye of some handsome Prince are more likely to depend on that fresh out-of-the-band box looks and are sure that a good supply of Lux Flakes on hand. In fact I suppose a modern Cinderella considers Lux Flakes standard equipment. Pigmalion was the first of Shaw's plays to reach the screen. This outspoken gentleman may be better known to our public for what he said in person rather than for what he said in his plays. But tonight in Pigmalion we have Shaw at his wisest and wittiest. If by chance some of you have a notion that Mr. Shaw is dull prepare to change your mind. The romantic hero of Pigmalion is a professor quite unromantic until he meets the hero in one night in the rain. Our professor like most professors has a pet theory and proceeds to remodel the life of the girl in question according to this theory. Of course you you can't meddle in anyone's life without getting into trouble and a professor of phonetics is no exception. The girl in the play is a flower seller on a London Street corner until she becomes a laboratory experiment. And since the experiment is concerned with her accent and demands a delicate sense of humor it's a part to challenge any actress. All this spelled gene Arthur for us in very large letters. So she's here tonight for the role of Eliza Doolittle. They say the purest English in the world is spoken by Irishman and Brian Ahern is one Irishman who bears out that tradition because he's a fine actor and a fiery individual. He's perfect as our fiery professor of speech and now for this professor's dangerous experiment with human emotions. We raise the curtain on act one of Pigmalion starring gene Arthur as Eliza and Brian Ahern as Henry Higgins. Flash of lightning across the evening sky a crackling roar of thunder and then the rain driving in sheets across London's Covent Garden sending the after theater crowd scurrying for shelter. Some people under the Portico of St. Paul's Church stand huddled together peering out gloomily at the rain all except one well-dressed gentleman who writes busily and rather mysteriously in a small notebook. From the drenched pavement comes a flower girl with a basket of bedraggled flowers on her arm she pushes away through the crowd. The flowers are violence but the girl is cockney so she calls them Boylets, Boylets, nice fresh Boylets, Boylets. No I'm afraid not. It's starting worse than ever. If it's worse it's a sign it's nearly over. So chill up Captain. Buy a flower off a poor girl. Sorry I haven't any change. Oh girl, no do buy a flower off me Captain. I can change off a crown. No no don't be troublesome. I really haven't any change. Oh wait a minute. Here's three havens if that's gonna use you. Oh thank you sir. Look here miss. You'll be careful. Give the gentleman a flower for it. There's a detective there behind you writing down every blessed word you say. A detective? I ain't done nothing wrong by speaking to the gentleman. I've a right to sell flowers if I keep off the curb. I'm a respectable girl so help me. Where is he? Oh sir please. Yeah yeah yeah what's that trouble? Oh sir don't charge me. You don't know what it means to me. They'll take away my character. Drive me on the streets for speaking to the gentleman. There there there there. Who's hurting you silly girl? What do you take me for? It's all right he ain't to take after all look at his boots. We thought he was a copper's knock sir. What's a copper's knock? It's a well it's a copper's knock as you might say a sort of informer. I take my Bible oath I never said a word. Shut up shut up. Do I look like a policeman? Then what did you take down my words for? How do I know whether you took me down right? You just show me what you wrote about me. Here you are. What's that? That I'm proper writing I can't read that? Well I can. It says chewed up kitten and buy a flyer for poor girl. Oh it's because I call that gentleman captain. I meant no worm. Where is he? Oh sir don't let him lie at charge again me for the word like that. Charge I make no charge. Really sir if you are a detective you needn't begin protecting me against molestation by young women until I ask you. Anybody could see the girl meant no harm to me. He ain't to take. He's a blooming busybody. That's what he is. And how are all your people down at Selce? Who told you my people come from Selce? Well never you mind they did. And you miss how do you come to be up so far east? Why you were born in Lyssen Grove. What harm is there in my leaving Lyssen Grove? It wasn't fit for a pig to live in and I had to pay four and six so we can't see it. Oh live where you like but stop that noise. Come come girl he can't touch you. You have a perfect right to live wherever you please. Poor flame for instance I. I'd like to go into the arson question with him I would. Do you know where I came from? You come from Hoxton. Why who said I didn't? Blimey you know everything you do. I know call to battle with me I. Of course he ain't. Don't you stand it from him. See you Mr. Where's your warrant? You'll take us for dirt under your feet don't you. Catch you taking liberties with a gentleman. Yes the gentleman who give us a money. Tell him where he come from if you want to go fortune hunting. Well sir can you tell me where I came from? Cheltenham, Harrow, Cambridge and India. Quite right. May I ask sir do you do this for your living at a music hall? I thought of that perhaps I shall someday. It's not right to take away my character. My character the same to me as any lady. I don't know whether you've noticed it but the rain has stopped. Oh so it is and us losing our time listening to your selling. Frightening people like that how would he like it himself. How do you do it sir if I may ask? Simply phonetics the science of speech. That's my profession it's also my hobby. You can spot an Irishman or a Yorkshireman by his bro. Well I can place a man within six miles. I can place him within two miles in London sometimes within two streets. You ought to be ashamed of yourself unmanly coward. What is there living in that? Oh yes quite a fat one. Mind your own business and leave the poor kid. Oh woman cease this detestable boo-hooing instantly. Or I'll seek the shelter of some other place of worship. Right to be here if I like same issue. A woman who utter such depressing and disgusting sounds has no right to be anywhere. Oh heavens what a sound here let me get that. There we are gone. You see this creature with her curb stone English sir. The English that will keep her in the gutter to the end of her days. Oh sir in three months I could pass that girl off as a duchess at an ambassador's garden party. I could even get her a place as a lady's maid or a shop assistant which requires much better English. And that's the sort of thing I do for commercial millionaires and on the profits of it I do genuine scientific work in phonetics. I'm a student of Indian Daleks myself. Are you? Do you know Colonel Pickering? I'm the author of Spoken Sanskrit. I am Colonel Pickering who are you? Henry Higgins. Author of Higgins Universal Alphabet. I came from India to meet you. Well I was going to India to meet you. Where did you live? 27 A Wimple Street. Come and see me tomorrow. I'm the captain. Come with me now and let's have a joy over some sorrow. All right you are. A bath log aren't you gentlemen. I'm short for my laundry. Oh here you are. Hold up your basket. Oh. How long Pickering? Over in. Cabby. I'm going home in a taxi. Not in this one you ain't. Where's your money? I've inside no object to me. Look here. Two court. Drury line. Round the corner of Mickelton's oil shop. And let's see how false you can make a rocket. Well I think that's the whole show Pickering. I take down the vowel sounds on the phonograph and then play them back whenever I want. It's really amazing. You like to go over and leave it again? No thank you not now. I'm quite done up for this morning. I'd have listening to sounds. It's a fearful strain. Come. Well Mrs. Pierce. A young woman wants to see you Mr. Higgins. Young woman? What does she want? Well sir she says you'll be glad to see her when you know what she's come about. She's quite a common girl sir. Indeed very common. Oh that's all right Mrs. Pierce. Has she an interesting accent? Oh something dreadful sir. I really don't know how you could take an interest in it. Show her up Mrs. Pierce. Very well sir. It's for you to see. See this is rather a bit of luck. I I'll show you how I make records. We'll set her talking and I'll take it down. First in Bell's visible speech and then in broad rooming. Then we'll get her on the phonograph so that you can turn her on as often as you like with the written transcript before you. Oh splendid. This is the young woman sir. How did you? Well this is the girl I jotted down last night. Oh she's no use. Be off with her. Don't want you. Don't you be so saucy. You ain't heard what I come for yet. To tell him I come in a texan. Oh nonsense girl. Do you think a gentleman like Mr. Higgins cares what you came in. Well we are proud. The item of giving lessons not to him. I heard him say so. Well if my money's not good enough I can go elsewhere. Good enough for what. Good enough for you. Now you know don't you. Come to have lessons I am. Well what do you expect me to say to you. Well if you as a gentleman you might ask me to sit down I think. Pickering. Shall we ask this baggage to sit down or shall we throw her out of the window. Now what is it you want my girl. I want to be a lady in a flower shop. Instead of selling at the corner of Tottenham Court Road. They won't take me unless I can talk more genteel. He said he could teach me. Well here I am ready to pie him. Not asking any favor. And he treats me as if I was dead. How much would you pay. Now you're talking. I thought you'd come off it when you saw a chance of getting back a bit of what you chopped at me last night. You'd had a drop in hadn't you. Sit down. Sit down and I'll do your tools. Sit down. Won't you sit down please. Don't mind if I do. What's your name. Liza Doolittle. Liza Doolittle. Well Liza Doolittle how much do you propose to pay me for the lessons. Oh I know what's right. A mighty friend of mine gets French lessons for 18 pence an hour from a real French gentleman. Well you wouldn't have the face to ask me the same for teaching me my own language as you would for French. So I won't give you more than a shilling. Take it to leave it. You know Pickering if you consider a shilling not as a simple shilling but as a percentage of this girl's income it works out as fully equivalent to 60 or 70 pounds from a millionaire. 70 pounds. What are you talking about. I never offered you 70 pounds. Wait what's like this. But I ain't got 70 pounds. Oh stop crying you silly girl. Sit down. Nobody's going to touch your money. Somebody's going to touch him with a broomstick if she doesn't stop snivelling. Sit down. Ow. One would think you was my father. If I decide to teach you I'll be worse than two fathers to you. He didn't. I'm interested. What about the ambassador's garden party. I'll see you're the greatest teacher alive if you make that good. I'll bet you all the expenses of the experiment you can't do it. And I'll pay for the lessons. Oh you are real good. Thank you Captain. It's almost irresistible. She's so deliciously low. So horribly dirty. Ow I ain't dirty. I wash my face and hands before I come. I'll do it. I shall make a duchess out of this draggletailed guttersknife. Yes yes in six months in three if she has a good ear and a quick tongue. I'll take her anywhere. Pass her off as anything. We'll start today. Now this moment. Take her away and clean her Mrs. Pierce. Is there a good fire in the kitchen? Yes but I'll take all her clothes and burn them. Send out for new ones. Wrap her in brown paper till they come. You're no gentleman. You're not to talk of such things. I'm a good girl I am. And I know what the like of you are I do. Well none of your listen grow prudery here young woman. You've got to learn to behave like a duchess. Take her away Mrs. Pierce and if she gives you any trouble wallop her. No I'll call the police I will. So you must be reasonable Mr. Higgins really you must. You can't walk over everybody like this. Why not? Why not? Well you don't know anything about her. What about her parents? Maybe she's married. Gah noot marry me. Hi Georgie Liza the streets will be strewn with the bodies of men shooting themselves for your sake before I've done with you. I'm going away. He's off his chump he is. I don't want no bombies teaching me. Oh indeed. Mayor am I? Very well Mrs. Pierce you needn't order the new clothes for her. Throw her out. Now you've got no right to touch me. You see now what comes of being saucy. Then you go home to your parents Miguel and tell them to take better care of you. I ain't got no parents. They told me I was big enough to own me own living and turned me out. See the girl doesn't belong to anybody. No use to anybody but me. You can adopt her Mrs. Pierce. I'm sure her daughter will be a great amusement to you. Oh now Higgins. Does it occur to you that the girl might have some feelings? Oh no no no I don't think so. Not any feelings we need bother about. Have you Eliza? I got my feelings same as anyone else. You see the difficulty. What difficulty? To get her to talk grammar. The mere pronunciation's easier now. I don't want to talk grammar. I want to talk like a lady. Mr. Higgins I'd like to know on what terms the girl is to be here. Is she to have any wages? And what's to become of her when you've finished your teaching? What's to become of her if I leave her in the gutter? Tell me that Mrs. Pierce. That's her own business not yours Mr. Higgins. Well when I've done whether she can go back to the gutter then it'll be her own business again. So that's all right. Oh you've no feeling of art in you. You don't care for nothing but yourself. Here I've had enough of this I'm going. You ought to be ashamed of yourself you waltz. Wait, have some chocolates Eliza. How do I know what might be in them? I've heard of girls being drugged by the like of you. Oh let your good faith Eliza. I'll eat one half and you eat other. Huh? There. Oh you should have boxes of barrels of them every day. You shall live on them. And listen I think you said you came in a taxi. Well what if I did? I was good a right to take a taxi as anyone else. You have Eliza. And in future you shall have as many taxis as you want. Well you shall go up and down and round the town in a taxi every day. You think of that Eliza. Mr. Higgins you know you're tempting the girl. It's not right. Mrs. Pierce is quite right Higgins. If this girl is to put us open your hands for six months for an experiment in teaching she must thoroughly understand what she's doing. How can she? She's incapable of understanding anything. Briss, do any of us understand what we're doing? And if we did, would we ever do it? Very clever, you can very clever but not science sense. Now, Miss Doolittle. Miss Doolittle, ow. You see that's all you get out of Eliza. Ow, it's no use explaining peckering. As a military man you ought to know that. Give her orders that's what she wants. Eliza, you ought to live here for the next six months learning how to speak beautifully. Like a lady in a florist's shop. If you're good and do whatever you're told you shall sleep in a proper bedroom and have lots to eat and money to buy chocolates and take rides and taxis. And if you're naughty and idle you will sleep in the back kitchen among the black beetles and you will be walloped by Mrs. Pierce with a broomstick. Ow. At the end of six months you shall go to Buckingham Palace in a carriage beautifully dressed. If the king finds out that you're not a lady you will be taken by the police to the Tower of London where your head will be cut off as a warning to other presumptuous flower girls. But if you are not found out you shall have a present of seven and six months to start life with as a lady in a shop. If you refuse this offer you will be a most ungrateful and wicked girl and the angels will weep for you. Now, bundler after the bathroom, Mrs. Pierce. You're a great bully you are. I won't stay it if I don't like. I won't let nobody wallop me. I never asked to go to Buckingham Palace, I didn't. I was never in trouble with the police, not me. I'm a good girl. Don't answer back, girl. You don't understand, the gentleman. Well, what I say is right. I won't go near the king not if I'm going to have my head cut off. I know what I was letting myself in for I wouldn't have come here. I've always been a good girl. I never offered to say a word to him. I don't owe him nothing and I don't care. I won't be put upon. I have my feelings for him as anyone else. A great experiment, Pickering. Will you excuse the straight question, Higgins, but you're a man of good character. Were women are concerned? Have you ever met a man of good character where women are concerned? Yes, sir. Very frequently. Well, I haven't. I find the moment I let a woman make friends with me, she becomes jealous, exacting, suspicious and a nuisance. I find the moment I let myself make friends with a woman, I become selfish and tyrannical. So here I am, a confirmed bachelor and likely to remain so. Come, Higgins, come, you know what I mean. If I'm to be in on this business, I shall feel responsible for that girl. I hope it's understood that no advantage is to be taken of her position. What? That thing? Oh, oh, sacred, I assure you. You see, she'd be a pupil and teaching would be impossible in this. Pupils were sacred. Oh, she's nothing to me, but a handful of clay, wet clay at death, which we shall work and mold into the semblance of a beautiful and charming duchess. We have taken on a stiff job, Higgins. We have. After Act One of Pygmalion. In the second act, Professor Higgins begins the job of modeling a duchess. During this brief intermission, Mr. Rueck and our trio have some wise and practical things to say. I want to take just a moment before Gene Arthur and Brian Ahern return for Act Two to remind Housewives that there are two ways to do housework. There's the hard way and there's the easy way. There's a song from Snow White that expresses the easy way very nicely, I think. It's called Whistle While You Work. Will you sing it for us girls? Just whistle while you work. Storn that grin and start riding to whistle loud and long. And that's the way you feel when you take the easy way. Sure it is. Even when you do dishes. Of course. You just pour a few luck flakes in the dish pan. Turn on the water. Then watch the bubbles come. Speedy bubbles, there you travel. Luck won't take you long. When there's too much to do. Don't let it bother you. Use luck for dishes. And you'll be just like a cheerful chick. And whistle while you work. That's fine girls, that's fine. You've made our point very clear. Speedy lucks make dish washing faster and pleasanter. The fine shear flakes dissolve four times as fast as old-fashioned cake soap. And the rich active suds go right to work cutting through grease and grime. They save you a lot of trouble. And leave your dishes bright and sparkling in almost no time. And the nicest thing of all, luck helps our hands stay smooth and white. Of course it does Sally. There's no harmful alkali to sting and irritate your hands the way harsh soaps do. And you'll be ready tomorrow for your dishes. Now our producer, Mr. DeMille. Act two of Pygmalion starring Jean Arthur as Eliza and Brian Ahern as Professor Higgins. The problem of making a cockney flower girl into a duchess is bound to have its complications and one of those complications has already arrived. For at the door of the Higgins residence stands a dust man Eliza's father demanding admittance. The dust man whose job it is to remove dirt and refuse from the front of fashionable homes is dressed in the clothes of his calling. And there's a definite sign of his trade in a smudge of ash on his nose. Upstairs Mr. Higgins ponders complication number one. Mr. Alfred Doolittle a dust man, eh? Yes, sir. He wants to see you. He says you have his daughter here. Why say? Send the blackout up, Mrs. Pierce. Very well, sir. He may not be a blackout, Higgins. Nonsense, of course he's a blackout. Whether he is or not, I'm afraid we shall have some trouble with him. Oh, nothing, not. If there's any trouble, he shall have it with me, not I with him. And we're sure to get something interesting out of him. About the girl? No, no, no. I mean his dialect. Oh, oh, I see. Alfred Doolittle, sir. Professor Higgins. Good morning. Sit down. Good morning, Governor. I come about a very serious matter, Governor. Brought up in Hounslow. Mother Welsh, I should think. Eh? You're quite right, sir. Certainly, it's right. Well, what do you want, Doolittle? I want my daughter. That's what I want. See? Well, of course you do. You're her father, aren't you? You don't suppose anybody else wants her, do you? Well, she's upstairs. Take her away at once. What? Take her away, you suppose. I'm going to keep your daughter for you. No, no, no. Look here, Governor. Is this reasonable? Is it fairer to take advantage of a man like this? The girl belongs to me. You've got her. Where do I come in? Your daughter had the audacity to come to my house and ask me to teach her how to speak properly so that she could get a place in a flower shop. How dare you come here and attempt to blackmail me? No, Governor. This is a plot. It's a plot to extort money by threats. I shall telephone for the police. Wait. Have I asked you for a brass father? I'll leave it to the gentleman here. Have I said a word about money? No, not yet. Well, what else did you come for? Well, what would a man come for? You came to rescue her from worse than death. Just so, Governor. That's right. Well, Rescuer, take her away. Have I said a word about taking her away? Have I now? But you're going to take her away and double-quick to it. No, Governor. Don't say that. Listen, Governor. Listen here. You and me as men of the world. Aren't we? Oh, men of the world, are we? Well, go on. Thank you, Governor. Well, the truth is I've taken a sort of fancy to you, Governor. And if you want to teach the girl, I'm not so set on having her back home again, but what I might be open to an arrangement. Hmm. Regarded in the light of a young woman, she's a fine, handsome girl. As a daughter, she's not worth her keep. And so I ask you straight, what's a five-pound note to you and what's Eliza to me? I think you ought to know, do little, that Mr. Higgins' intentions are entirely honorable. Of course they are, Governor. Of course they are. I don't know what to do, Pickering. As a matter of morals, it's a positive crime to give this chap a farthing. Yet I feel a sort of rough justice in his claim. That's it, Governor. That's all I say. The father's art, as it were. Well, I know the feeling, but really it seems hardly right. Don't say that, Governor. Don't look at it that way. What am I, Governor's both? I ask you what am I? I'm one of the undeserving poor. That's what I am. Think of what that means to a man. It's always the same story. One deserving so you can't have it. Just an excuse for never giving me anything. Will you take advantage of a man's nature to do him out of the price of his own daughter, what he's brought up and fed and clothed by the sweat of his brow until she's grown big enough to be interested into you two gentlemen? Is five pound unreasonable? I put it to you and I leave it to you. I suppose we must give him a fiver. You make bad use of it, I'm afraid. Oh, not me, Governor Swartman. I won't. I'm afraid that I'll save it and live idle on it. There won't be a penny of it left for Monday. Just one good spree for myself and the Mrs. giving pleasure to ourselves and employment to others and satisfaction to you to think it's not been thrown away. You couldn't spend it better. This is irresistible. Five pounds, I think you said. Right, Governor. Yeah, you are. Thank you, Governor. Good morning. Here's the girl, Mr. Wiggins. All cleaned and dressed. You won't be company no longer, Governor. Big pardon, Miss. And don't you know your own daughter? Blimey, it's Eliza. Well, I never thought she'd clean up as good looking as that, Governor. She's a credit to me. Ain't she? It's easy to clean up here. Out in cold water and tap just as much as you like, there is. Well, I'm glad the bathroom met with your approval. It didn't. Not all of it. And I don't care who ears me say it. Mrs. Pierce knows. What was wrong, Mrs. Pierce? Oh, nothing, sir. It doesn't matter. I had a good mind to break it. Didn't know which way to look. But I hung a towel over it, I think. Oh, well, what? Over the looking glass, sir. You do little. You've brought your daughter up too strictly. Me? I never brought her up at all. Except to give her a lick of a strat now and again. But she'll soon pick up your free and easy way. I'm a good girl, I am. And I won't pick up no free and easy way. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Don't you give me none of your lip. And don't let me hear you giving this gentleman any of it neither. Or you'll hear from me about it, see? Have you any further advice to give her before you go do a little? Your blessing, for instance. No, Governor. I ain't such a muggers to tell my children all I know myself. Hard enough to hold them in without that. If you want Eliza's mind improved, Governor, you do it yourself with a strat. So long, gentlemen. Let's get on with the lesson. How do you do? How do you do? The weather is quite pleasant. The weather is quite pleasant. Quite. Quite. Quite. Quite. Quite. Quite. Oh, quite. Oh, now say it. The weather is quite pleasant. Ah! You do as I say. I can't. You told me I could ride in a taxi every blessed day. Oh, you will, you will. But first you must learn to walk as the duchies walk. Shoulders back, no slouch, head straight. You must be able to cross a room with a plate balanced on your head. Now, now, now try. Then can I ride in a taxi? Oh, yes, yes, yes. Anything but walk. Walk. Walk. All right, then. Ah! I've been here today. It's my at-home day. I know, Mother. I came on purpose. But you mustn't. I'm serious, Henry. You offend all my friends. They stop coming whenever they need you. Really, dear, you mustn't stay. Oh, I must. I've got a job for you, Mother. A phonetic job. What? I've picked up a girl, Mother. Does that mean that some girls picked you up? Oh, no, no, not at all. Don't mean a love affair. What a pity. Why? If you ever fall in love with anyone under 45, when will you discover that there are some rather nice-looking young women about? Can't be bothered with young women. They're all idiots. Well, tell me about the girl. She's coming to see you, Mother. Indeed, why? Well, it's like this. She's a common flower girl. I picked her up off the kerb stone. And invited her to my at-home. Oh, it'll be all right. I've taught her to speak properly, and she has strict orders as to her behavior. She's to keep to two subjects, the weather and everybody's health. And she's not to let herself go on things in general. So that'll be safe. Safe to talk about our health, about our inside. How could you be so silly, Henry? Oh, well, she must talk about something. She needs the practice. Oh, Henry, please. Not today. I told you I'm having guests. And for heaven's sake, stop whistling. Always whistling when things are going well. Can't help it. Oh, Lord. How do you do, Mr. Stiggins? Mrs. Ainsford Hill and Clara. How do you do? Am I so, Henry? You're a celebrated son. Am I so long to meet you, Professor Higgins? Delighted. I'm sorry to say that my celebrated son has no manners. You mustn't mind him. I don't. Colonel Pickering. How do you do, Mrs. Higgins? Oh, so glad you've come. You know Mrs. Ainsford Hill? Miss Ainsford Hill? Oh, how do you do? Mr. Ainsford Hill. Good Lord, another of them. How do you do? Oh, very good of you to come. Colonel Pickering. How do you do? I don't think you know my son, Professor Higgins. How do you do? Uh, sit down. Oh, well, here we are anyhow. Now, what the devil are we going to talk about till Eliza comes? Henry, you're the life and soul of the Royal Society's forays, but really, you're rather trying on more commonplace occasions. Am I? Oh, very sorry. Miss Eliza Doolittle. Yes, yes, yes, Mother. Well, come in, my dear. How do you do, Mrs. Higgins? Mr. Higgins told me I might come. Quite right. I'm very glad indeed to see you. How do you do, Miss Doolittle? Colonel Pickering, is it not? And this is Mrs. Ainsford Hill. How do you do? How do you do? My daughter Clara. How do you do? How do you do? May I have the pleasure? My son, Freddie. How do you do? How do you do? Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Ahem. Will it rain, do you think? The shallow depression in the west of these islands is likely to move slowly in an easterly direction. There are no indications of any great change in the baronetrical situation. How awfully funny. What is wrong with that young man? I bet I got it right. Oh, that's killing. I'm sure I hope it won't turn cold. There's so much influence all about. It runs right through our whole family, regularly, every street. My aunt died of influenza, so they said. But it's my belief they'd done the old woman in. Done her in? Yes, Lord, love you. Why should she die of influenza? She come through diphtheria right enough the year before. I saw her with my own eyes. Barely blue with it she was. They all thought she was dead. But my father, he kept ladling gin down her throat till she came too so sudden that she bit the bowl off the spoon. Yummy. What call would a woman with that strength in her have to die of influenza? What become of her new straw hat that should have come to me? Somebody pinched it. And what I say is them as pinched it done her in. What does doing her in mean? Oh, that's a new small talk. To do a person in means to kill him. Miss, do little. You surely don't believe that your aunt was killed. Do I not? Then she lived with would have killed her for a hatpin, let alone a hat. But it can't have been right the old father to pour spirits down her throat like that. It might have killed her. Not her. Gin was mother's milk to her. Besides, he poured so much down his own throat that he knew the good of it. Do you mean that he drank? Drank. My word. Something chronic. How dreadful for you. Not a bit. It never did him no harm. What I could see. But then he did not keep it up regular. On the burst, as you might say, from time to time. And always more agreeable than he'd had a drop in. When he was out of work, my mother used to give him fourpence and tell him to go out and not come back until he'd drunk himself cheerful and loving like. Oh, there's lots of women has to make their husbands drunk to make them fit to live with. Oh, I say. Here. What are you sniggering at? The new small talk. You do it so awfully well. If I was doing it proper, what was you laughing at? Have I said anything I oughtn't? Not at all, Miss Doolittle. Well, that's a mercy, anyhow. What I always say is... Did you speak, Mr. Higgins? Getting late, isn't it? Oh. Well, I must go. So pleased to have met you. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye, Colonel Pickering. Goodbye, Miss Doolittle. Goodbye, all. Oh, I say, are you walking across the park, Miss Doolittle? If so... Walk. Not bloody likely. I am going in a taxi. What do you think, Mother? Isn't she wonderful? You must admit your son has made great progress, Mrs. Higgins. Yes, you certainly are a pretty pair of babies playing with your live dolls. Playing? Oh, it's the hardest job I ever tackled to make no mistake about that, Mother. Yes, it's enormously interesting. I assure you, Mrs. Higgins, we take Eliza very seriously. Yes, I can see that. But what about her? I'm worried. Worried? Colonel Pickering, don't you realize that when Eliza walked into Henry's house, something walked in with her? What? A problem. Oh, if you mean her father, I've solved that already. No, I mean the problem of what is to be done with her afterwards. Oh, don't see anything in that. She can go her own way with all the advantages I've given her. The advantages of that poor girl was here just now. Is that what you mean? Oh, that'll be all right, Mrs. Higgins. We'll find her some light employment. Anyhow, it's no good bothering now. The thing's done. In a month from now, only one little month, Eliza, too little will be no more. And in her place will stand... Yes, compounded, what are we going to call her? The Duchess of Denver. De-intoxicating, fascinating Duchess of Denver. Mr. and Mrs. Harrington Smith. The Earl of Staffordshire. Lord and Lady Billingsday. I say, who is she? Who is who? That girl. Yes, coming in. The Duchess of Denver. And Mr. Henry Higgins. I thought you'd love it. Now, remember, walk slowly, slowly now, slowly. Now, turn and smile at me. Don't forget. Move as if there's a plate on your head. Careful. Now, here's our host. Oh, Higgins. So glad to see you. Oh, thank you. I don't believe you know the Duchess of Denver. Delighted. So good of you to come, my dear. It was kind of you to have me. If ever you should find yourself near Denver, I shall be only too happy to return the compliment. Thank you. I shall make a point of it, I promise. Come on, Pickery. Oh, oh, I'm about done in. I feel a bit tired myself. But you've won your bet, Higgins. Eliza did the trick on something to spare, eh? Thank heaven it's over. Were you nervous? I was. Eliza didn't seem a bit nervous. Were you, Eliza? Oh, she wasn't nervous. I knew she'd be all right. Eliza, fetch my slippers, will you please? No, it's the strain of putting the job through all these months that has told on me. However, it's over and done with. Now I can go to bed at last without dreading tomorrow. I think I should turn in too. Still, it's been a great occasion and a triumph for you. A hand for Eliza. Hey, Eliza. Well, good night. Good night. Put out the lights, will you, Eliza? Can't found it. What have I done with my slippers? Oh, you have them, eh? Thank you, Eliza. Your slippers, and may you never have a day's luck with them. What on earth? What's the matter? Anything wrong? Nothing wrong with you. I've won your bet for you, haven't I? That's enough for you. I don't matter, I suppose. You won my bet? You? Pursue some to us, insect. I won it. Why did you throw those slippers at me, though? Because I wanted to smash your face. I'd like to kill you, you selfish brute. Why didn't you leave me where you found me? And the gutter. You thank heaven it's all over, and now you can throw me back to me. I'm sorry. You thank heaven it's all over, and now you can throw me back there again, don't you? Well, the creature is nervous after all. Yes, scratch me, would you? Claw's in your kit. Oh, dare you show your temper to me. Now sit down and be quiet. What's to become of me? What's to become of me? Well, that devil do I know what's to become of you. You don't care. I know you don't care. I'm nothing to you. Not so much as them slippers. Those slippers. Oh, I wish I was dead. But why in heaven's name? No, no, no, no. You go to bed like a good little girl and sleep it off. Have a little cry and say your prayers. That'll make you comfortable. I heard your prayers. Thank heaven it's all over. Don't you think heaven it's all over? Now you're free and could do what you like. What am I fit for? What have you left me fit for? Where am I to go? What am I to do? What's to become of me? Oh, I shouldn't bother about it if I were you. Oh, you might marry, you know. Marry? Why not? I'd say my mother could find some chap or other who'd do very well. We were above that at the Conrad Tottenham Court Road. What do you mean? I sold flowers. I didn't sell myself. Now you've made a lady of me. I'm not fit to sell anything else. Tosh, Eliza. Don't you insult human relations by dragging all this cant about buying and selling into it. Ah, come, you'll be all right. I must clear off to bed. I'm devilish sleepy. Before you go, sir. Eh? Do my clothes belong to me or to Colonel Pickering? What, that devil? Useful of it of Pickering. He might want them for the next girl you pick up to experiment on. Is that the way you feel towards us? I want to know what I may take away with me. I don't want to be accused of stealing. Stealing? Oh. You shouldn't have said that, Eliza. That shows I want a feeling. I'm sorry. I'm only a common ignorant girl. And in my station I have to be careful. There can't be any feelings between the like of you and the like of me. Please, will you tell me what belongs to me and what doesn't? Oh, you may take the whole house full if you like. Except the jewels, they're hired. Will that satisfy you? Stop, please. Will you take the jewels to your room and keep them safe? I don't want to run the risk of their being missing. Hand them over. If these belong to me instead of to the jeweler, I'd ram them down your ungrateful throat. This ring isn't the jeweler. It's the one you bought me in Brighton. I don't want it now. Take it, please. Give it to me. That's for the ring I bought you in Brighton. You're in the fireplace. You're fortunate I didn't throw you in the fireplace, too. Don't you hit me. Hit you? You infamous creature. How dare you accuse me of such a thing? It's you who have hit me. Why, oh, you wounded me to the heart. I'm glad I've got back at you a little anyhow. You have caused me to lose my temper. It's a thing that has hardly ever happened to me before. I prefer to say nothing more tonight. I'm going to bed. Good night. Good night. You've been broken in the fireplace. I dropped something. A ring. I've got to find it. I've got to find it. A curtain falls on the second act of Pygmalion. The phonetic Duchess of Denbury, no longer a placid pupil, would be quite a problem for Professor Higgins in Act 3. Before we continue, here are two people with some fresh ideas on one of your everyday problems. Before Jean Arthur and Brian are here and bring us Act 3 of Pygmalion, Libby Collins, who's been scouting for news of the fashion world in Hollywood, there's a very exciting news for you tonight. Let us hear it, Libby. It's all about sweaters. You know, last winter the Hollywood stars started the sweater and skirt idea for evening wear. Well, it swept the country like wildfire and this year is more popular than ever. You see the smartest people in the smartest places wearing sweaters with long skirts of crepe or velvet or wool. On by the way, Mr. Rueig, Barbara Stanwyck has a fascinating collection of evening sweaters. Tell us about them, Libby. Well, one night at the Coconut Grove, she wore a perfectly gorgeous white cashmere sweater and a very full-gathered skirt of emerald green jersey. White cashmere? Isn't that a good old standby? Oh, but this is different with a capital D. Barbara has her name embroidered in brilliant red and gold and green letters all around the neck and sleeves. Say, that's an idea. Is she any other tricks up her sleeve? Yes, indeed. She has one sweater embroidered with bars with a favorite song and still another with a few lines of a favorite poem embroidered up the front. Well, you're certainly putting ideas into some of our listeners' heads. And while we're about it, I'd like to plant another idea. Get more pleasure and longer wear out of your sweaters by carrying for them with gentle luxe flake. Just the way leading studios here in Hollywood do. They use luxe because it's so dependable. It does a grand job of keeping all washables bright and new-looking. There's a good reason for that. Luxe has no harmful alkali and of course with luxe there's no cake soap rubbing to hurt sensitive woolen fibers or fade washable colors. When it comes to washing your sweaters and other woolens, remember these six words. Safe in water, safe in luxe. Now that's a good rule to follow. The mild, pure luxe suds simply float away the soil and leave sweaters as soft and shapely as the day you bought them. So buy the thrifty large box of luxe flakes tomorrow and follow the luxe method with gentle care to your sweaters and other woolens. You'll find luxe is so pure a little goes a long way. We pause now for station identification. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. We continue with Pygmalion. The Duchess of Denver, alias Eliza Doolittle, has revolted. In the dead of night she's disappeared, leaving Higgins a bit mystified and very worried. The following morning in his mother's drawing room, Higgins paces the floor nervously. She was left last night as usual to turn off the lights and all that, but instead of going to bed, she changed her clothes and bolted. Heaven only knows where or why. You must have frightened her, Henry. Frightened her? Nonsense. But what am I going to do now? Without, I'm afraid. The girl has the perfect right to leave if she chooses. Morning, Mrs. Higgins. Has Henry told you? Pickering. What does that ass of an inspector say? Have you offered a reward? You don't mean to say that you set the police after Eliza? Of course. What are the police for? What else can we do? We can't let her go like this, Mrs. Higgins. You have no more sense either of you than two children. If you really want to know where Eliza is, she's here. Here? In this house? Upstairs. Upstairs? I shall jolly soon fetch her downstairs. Please, be quiet, Henry. Sit down. Sit down, dear, and listen to me. Eliza came to me this morning. She told me of the brutal way you two treated her. What? What did we do to her? I think I know pretty well what you did. She worked very hard for you, Henry. And when the great day of trial came when she did this wonderful thing for you without making a single mistake, you two sat there and never said a word to her. But talked together of how glad you were that it was all over. Oh, we said nothing except that we were tired and wanted to go to bed. Did we pick that was all? And you didn't pank her or pet her or admire her? Or tell her how splendid she did, did you? We'd seen you all about that. We didn't make speeches to her, and that's what you mean. Now, get her down here. Henry, please. She's coming down as soon as she's dressed. Now, you behave yourself. Oh, very well, very well. I'll be a lamb. Stop jingling your money and don't whistle. Oh, Lord. You can't help that, Mrs. Higgins. I've noticed it. It's a sure sign that things are going well. Doesn't sound like it. You weren't that devil, is that girl? Well, we don't wait here all day. How do you do, Professor Higgins? Are you quite well? But of course you are. You're never ill. So glad to see you again, Colonel Pickering. It's quite chilly this morning, isn't it? Yes. Don't you dare try this game on me. I tormented you. It doesn't take me in. Now, come home and don't be a fool. Very nicely put indeed, Henry. No woman could resist such an invitation. Will you drop me altogether? Now the experiment is over, Colonel Pickering. Oh, don't you. You mustn't think of it as an experiment. It shocks me somehow. I owe so much to you. I should feel very unhappy if you forgot me. It's very kind of you to say so, Miss Doolittle. It's not because you paid for my dresses. I know you're generous to everybody. But it was from you that I learnt really nice manners. And that's what makes one a person of refinement, isn't it? You see, it was so very difficult for me with the example of Professor Higgins always before me. What? Oh, that's only Higgins' way. You know he doesn't mean it. No doubt. But do you know what began my real education, Colonel Pickering? No. What? You're calling me Miss Doolittle. That day when I first came to Wimpole Street. That was the beginning of self-respect for me. And there were a hundred little things you never noticed because they came naturally to you. Things about standing up, taking off your hat, opening a door. Well, that was nothing. You never took off your boots in a dining room when I was there. Oh, you mustn't mind that. You know Higgins takes his boots off all over the place. I know I'm not blaming him. But it made such a difference to me that you didn't do it. You see, really and truly, apart from the things anyone can pick up, the difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves, but how she's treated. I shall always be a flower girl to Professor Higgins because he always treats me as a flower girl and always will. But I know I can be a lady to you because you always treat me as a lady and always will. Please don't grind your teeth, Henry. Well, this is really very nice of you, Miss Doolittle. I should like you to call me Eliza now, if you would. Thank you. Eliza, of course. And I should like Professor Higgins to call me Miss Doolittle. I'll see you hang first. Henry, Henry! Why don't you slang back at him, Eliza? I can't. I could have done it once, but I've forgotten my own language. That's the real break-off for the corner of Tottencourt Road. Leaving Wimpole Street finishes it. Well, but you're coming back to Wimpole Street, aren't you? You'll forgive Higgins? Forgive? We'll see by George. Let her go. Let her find out how she can get on without us. She'll relapse into the gutter in three weeks without me and her elbow. Oh, he's incorrigible, Eliza. You won't relapse, will you? No, never. I've learnt my lesson very well. And now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, Mrs. Higgins has promised to take me shopping. Good day, gentlemen. Wait. I've not finished yet. Come back here at once. You see what I mean, Colonel? Come back here at once. He's speaking to the flower girl, and you'll see. There is no flower girl. She can't do this to me. Where did she go? Come back. Eliza. Eliza, where are you? Answer me. Mr. Higgins? Listen, you've got back at me as you wanted. Well, have you had enough? Are you going to be reasonable? Or do you want any more? You want me back only to pick up your slippers, put up with your tempers, and fetch and carry for you. I haven't said I wanted you back at all. Oh, indeed. Then what are we talking about? About you, not about me. If you come back, I shall treat you just as I've always treated you. I can't change my nature, and I don't intend to change my manners. Oh, I don't care how you treat me. I don't mind you swearing at me. I don't mind a black eye. I've had one before this. But I won't be passed over. Then get out of my way, but I won't stop for you. Wait. You talk about me as if I were a motor bus. So you are a motor bus. All bounce and go. No consideration for anyone. But I can do without you. Don't think I can't. Never ask yourself, I suppose, whether I could do without you. I shall miss you, Eliza. I have grown accustomed to you. Oh, you are a devil. You can twist the heart in a girl as easy as some could twist her arms to hurt her, and you don't care a bit for me. I care for life, for humanity. And you're a part of it that has come my way and been built into my house. You call me a brute because you couldn't buy a claim on me by fetching my slippers and finding my spectacles. You're a fool. I think a woman fetching a man's slippers is a disgusting sight. I think the great deal more of you for throwing in than met me. If you come back, come back for the sake of good fellowship. And if you dare to set up your little dog-stricks of fetching and carrying slippers against my creation of a duchess, Eliza, I'll slam the door in your silly face. What am I to come back for? For the fun of it. Why, that's why I took you on. No, I won't come back. What in thunder do you want? I want a little kindness. I know I'm a common ignorant girl, and you will book-learn it, gentlemen. But I'm not dirt under your feet. What I'd done, what I did was not for the dresses and the taxes. I did it because we were pleasant together. And I come... I came to care for you. Well, of course. That's just how I feel. Eliza, you're a fool. That's not the proper answer to give me. Well, it's all you get till you stop being a common idiot. If you're going to be a lady, you'll have to give up feeling neglected in half the time snivelling over you and the other half giving you black eyes. Oh, you are a cruel tyrant. I can't talk to you. You turn everything against me. I'm always in the wrong. But you know very well all the time that you're nothing but a bully. You know I can't go back to the gutter, as you call it, that I have no real friends in the world but you and the Colonel. But I won't be coaxed round as if I were a baby or a puppy. If I can't have kindness, I'll have independence. Independence? We're all dependent on one another. Every soul of us on earth. Whether I'm dependent on you, if you can preach, I can teach. I'll go be a teacher. What will you teach in Heaven's name? What you taught me. I'll teach phonetics. I'll offer myself as assistant to Professor Nepean. What? That imposter? That humbug? That toadie, ignorant, ramus? Teach him my methods, my discoveries. You take one step in his direction. I'll ring your neck. Do you hear? Ring away. What do I care? I knew you'd strike me someday. Now I know how to deal with you. What a fool I was not to think of it before. You can't take away the knowledge you gave me. That's done you, Henry Higgins, it has. Now I don't care that, for you're bullying in your big talk. I'll advertise it in the papers that your duchess is only a flower girl that you taught and that she'll teach anybody to be a duchess just the same in six months for a thousand guineas. Oh, and I think of myself crawling under your feet and being trampled on and called names when all the time I had only to lift up my finger to be as good as you, I could just kick myself. You impudent impute. Ah, but this is better than snivelling. It's better than fetching slippers, isn't it? By George Eliza, I said I'd make a woman of you, and I have. I like you for this. Yes, you turn round and make up to me now that I'm not afraid of you and can do without you. Well, of course I do, you little fool. Five minutes ago you were like a millstone round my neck, but now you're a tower of strength, a consort battleship. Oh, Eliza. Eliza, the car's waiting. Thank you, Mrs. Higgin. Goodbye for a while, Henry. Goodbye, Mother. Goodbye, Professor. Goodbye. Oh, by the way, Eliza, order a ham and a stilt-in cheese, will you? And buy me a pair of gloves, number eights, and a tie to match that new suit of mine. Buy them yourself. I'm afraid you've spoiled that girl, Henry. But never mind, dear. I'll buy you the tie and gloves. Oh, don't bother. She'll buy them all right enough. When she thinks it's all over, she'll realize it's quite possible for a duchess to buy ties for her husband without losing her dignity. Her husband? Henry, have you asked Eliza to marry you? Of course. How? Well, I told her she was a tower of strength, a consort battleship. Oh, Henry, you're a fool. Now I'll have to go and tell her what you meant. Oh, thanks, Mother. Make it strong. Ring down the curtain on the last act of Big Million, the gene alter and by Anna Hearn. Before Mr. DeMille brings our stars to the microphone for their curtain call, I want to ask Sally a question. Sally, do you see this penny I'm holding? Well, suppose you tell me what you could buy with it. Well, I could buy a postage stamp. Or a stick of gum. Or a pencil. I could weigh myself. I could buy a lollipop. Mere trifles, all of them. A penny can go a lot further than that. Well, I have to be shown. Well, suppose you take a penny's worth of luxe flakes. Do you know what you can do with that? Well, let me think. I'll tell you. About a penny's worth of luxe will wash your stockings four times, or your underthings three times. In hard water, a little more luxe gives you an abundance of rich, active suds. And those suds are so mild, so pure, they help your house dresses, stockings, underthings, and woolens, and your nicer stresses to stay new looking a long, long time. There's no harmful alkali to hurt any color or any fabric that's safe in plain water. It's easy to see that luxe flakes are a real investment in economy. And that's something I know every housewife is interested in. So keep the thrifty, large box of luxe flakes in the house. And every time you use luxe, remember, it's safe and it saves. Now, here's Mr. DeMille with our stars. We welcome our stars, and we welcome Pygmalion and his phonetic work of art back to the stage. This time is Gene Arthur and Brian Ahearn. Perhaps we can clear up the question of just exactly where the title came from. It's one of those things you know. You think you know it, and then you don't. Gene, if you hadn't brought up the subject, I would have been very disappointed. Professor Ahearn has been doing his homework in mythology. Frankly, I have. And since you all insist that I tell you the result, here it is. Pygmalion, that's me, was a fellow in ancient Greece and here, that's you, Gene. And then he fell in love with the statue. Oh yes, I remember it now. The statue came to life. And mythologically speaking, I believe they lived happily ever after. All Mr. Shaw did was to give his sculptor a phonetic chisel. Well, there's certainly nothing mythical about phonetics. I believe they're now used in the most scientific methods of learning to pronounce a foreign language. Practically foolproof, because any one phonetic symbol represents the same sound in any language. Including Chinese and Sanskrit. But I don't suppose you'll use either of those soon in the Lux Radio Theatre CB. What's the bill for next week? Next Monday night, Brian, we're going to present Bob Burns and Anita Louise in A Man to Remember, one of the most heartwarming stories to come from the screen in several years. It's the drama of a country doctor, one of those truly great men who are known and loved in every small American community. And Bob Burns is our country doctor, will really be a man to remember. A very moving play and a fine cast, Mr. DeMille. Good night. So long CB. Good night and a feather in both your caps. Our sponsors, the makers of Lux Flakes, join me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night when the Lux Radio Theatre presents Bob Burns and Anita Louise in A Man to Remember. This is Cecil B. DeMille saying good night to you from Hollywood. This is Mel Doeville inviting you to enjoy the popular Lux Daytime program, The Life and Love of Dr. Susan. Pat Briggs is furious with Dr. Susan. He misunderstands her interest in Bill Halliday. Can Susan explain to his satisfaction? Listen tomorrow. For the time and station, see your newspaper. The Life and Love of Dr. Susan comes to you in addition to the Lux Radio Theatre. Heard in tonight's play were Alan Napier as Colonel Pickering, Eric Snowden as Mr. Doolittle, Mary Gordon as Mrs. Pierce, Gloria Gordon as Mrs. Higgins, Evelyn Beresford as Mrs. Anseford Hill, Mary Taylor as Ms. Anseford Hill, D. Baron Smith as Freddie, and Jack Lewis, Thomas Mills, Margaret Brayton and Janet Young. Gene Arthur's current picture is the Columbia hit Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Brian Ahern will be seen in the forthcoming Edward Small production My Son, My Son, which is the film version of the best-selling novel by Howard Spring. Our music was directed by Lewis Silvers. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.