 Ann Rubber Company, world's largest manufacturer of low-priced tires, presents another half-hour of music and entertainment starring Jack Benny. The orchestra opens the program with My Baby's on Sprite. Music Thousands of people in every community have taken advantage of the special sales that the general tire dealers have been conducting for the past two weeks. To make it possible for more tire buyers to cash in on this timely event, these sales will be continued through Labor Day. There are only a few days left, but there are still plenty of fresh, new, blowout-proof generals purchased at a rare concession from the general company, especially for this event, at prices that for once bring these famous top-quality tires within the reach of everybody. Don't delay. There are still plenty of tires in all popular sizes. See your general tire dealer tomorrow. Music And now, ladies and gentlemen, if you hear any odd noises on your radio, don't worry, it'll be Jack Benny. Music Thank you, thank you. Hello again, this is Odd Noises speaking. They're Jack Benny. Why do I pay attention to that guy, Wilson, anyway? Did you ever see Don Wilson, folks? He's a big, good-natured fellow, laughs at anything, and always picks up a check with a smile on his face. I mean his salary check. There you are, you hear him? You know, Wilson has only been in New York a short time. He comes from the West and was formerly a deputy sheriff in a small town in Wyoming, which is equivalent to a Boy Scout in New York. He's a well-fed gentleman, eats three meals a day, and has a corned beef sandwich rehearsal before each meal. He has the greatest collection of knives and forks you've ever seen, and carries a salt shaker in his best pocket. Oh, you're wrong, Jack. I don't eat a lot. Not much. He holds two decisions over Henry VIII. But at that, really, Wilson's a nice guy, and he really has only one fault. He talks in his sleep, and if he asks me, he's more convincing than when he's awake. How do you know that I talk in my sleep? Well, I left the microphone in your room last night, and you might not know it, but you were on the air at 2.30 this morning. Oh, yes, I guess I was dreaming. Do you believe in dreams, Jack? Why, certainly, Don. You know, when I was in Saratoga a couple of weeks ago, I dreamt about a horse called Mr. Cayam, and the next day I played him. Did he win? No. Well, your dream didn't work out then, did it? Yes, it did. I dreamt he'd lose. When it's my eyes wide open, I'm dreaming, da-da-da-dam, da-da-dam. Mary. Mary said, Mary, do you believe in dreams? Why, why would you bring that up? Oh, Don and I would just discuss it, that's all. Sure, if it wasn't for dreams, some people would never go anyplace. That's right, Mary. Dreams certainly get you around. Yeah, and the rates are so reasonable. They sure are. Do you dream often, Mary? No, only on Sunday nights. How's that? Well, it helps me do a playing field on Sunday nights. That's true, but do you really believe in them, Mary? Sure I do. Last Sunday night I dreamt I was read a garble. You did? Yes, and when I woke up the next morning, I couldn't get my shoes on. Oh, those things can happen. Sure they can. And old Jack, last night I had the strangest dream I've ever had. It was awful. Yeah, what happened? Well, I dreamt I was in a fire. It was on the 15th floor of a building and I tried to get out through the door, but the flames blocked my way. Oh my goodness. Then I tried to fire escape, but that was locked from the outside. So I ran to the window. It was the only way out. Yes, Mary. The flames were popping up to me. I didn't have a second to spare. So I put one foot out of the window and then... Yes, Mary, what happened? It was a serial dream to be continued tonight. Here's my eyes wide open. Hello, Mary. Hello, Frank. Hi, Jack. Hello, Frank. You're late again. What did you choose this time? I suppose you drove over and your car broke down. No, Jack. I walked over and I broke down. Oh, I see. Sometimes it's a banana. I see. He just added that himself, you know what I mean. What a program, Jack. Fair Frank takes four dreams. Oh, yeah. Well, go ahead. It's your line. Say, Frank, do you believe in dreams? I certainly do, Jack. Why, one night I dreamt there was the Prince of Wales and the next day I was playing polo and fell off my horse. Fell off a horse? That's an old joke. Well, I'd come to it about eight years ago. Oh, I thought so. I thought so, yeah. You know, I dream a lot of old jokes. Isn't it strange, though, how dreams can change? You hear again? Last week... Last week, my uncle, Grandpa, was the king of Belgium and the next day my aunt crowned him with a rolling pin. What are you laughing at? The joke is older than Parker's. You said it. Well, I think we had enough of dreams tonight, anyway. And speaking of dreams, what a dream the general blowout-proof tire is. It is smarter-looking and will give you more safe miles than any other tire. I was wondering how you'd get that in, Wilson. Well, let's have a little music. Oh, best sir, I didn't see you standing there. I really left you out. Tell me, did you have a dream last night? No, Jack, that was my wife. Play down. That joke is older than I am. Yes, but not as wrinkled. That was, uh, Sapphire played by Don Bester and his more mileage orchestra. Say, Don, I suppose your orchestra will be in the Labor Day Parade Monday, eh? But they will, Jack, and I'll be there wielding my baton. You'll be what? Wielding my baton. Oh, wielding. Where'd you learn wielding the baton, Don? Wielding West Virginia. Well, that's the best we can do with that, folks. Say, Frank, are you going to march in the Labor Day Parade? You bet I am, Jack. I'll be right there. Well, I'll have to look for you. Who are you going to march with? I don't know. I'm just going for the walk. Well, we've got Wilson stuck. He can't say if you'll walk, use General Tire, anyway. Well, that's right, but I'll get to it later. Oh, Jack, I'm going to march in the parade, too. You are, Mary. Who are you going to march with? Excuse us. And say, Jack. What? I wrote a poem all about Labor Day Monday. They own about Labor Day? No, no, no. I don't want to hear it. Well, the other 120 million people do, so I guess I'm going to read it. All right, all right. Get ready to sing, Frank. Go ahead, Mary. Read your poem. Labor Day. Go ahead. Labor Day. Old Labor Day. You come but once a year, in September, not November, three but you're a deer, put your stakers all parading down the avenue, in your honor, Labor Day, and not to Santa Claus. Quiet. Nives of great men off, remind us, footprints on the sands of time. I've heard that before. And the bills we leave behind us in the castills and the beach on Labor Day. Dear Labor Day, when we haven't got a dime left. Is that all, Mary? It was a long fellow. Why couldn't I think of that? Thirty days past September, April, June, and November. All the rest have 31, except Labor Day, which falls in London. I thank you. Thanks, Frank. Well, how do you like my poem, Jack? Terrible. Well, I'm not trying to tell it. Oh. That is Frank Parker singing a new moon over my shoulder from the motion picture speaking on board. And I must admit, Frank, you are one of the best tenors on this program. What do you mean, one of the best? Well, we all sing tenor more or less. Now, you know, Frank, at times, when I'm home alone, I'm surprised at the results I get with my voice while shaving. Really, you know, I don't know what to do when I'm home alone. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. Back to the song. What do you think Frank? My favorite song is When I wish then I army Your favorite song, That's While Shaving. Really, I always like to sing when I sh ave. And my favorite song is When I wish I was smiling cartoons. Really, it doesn't sound bad at all. What do you think? I ought to do with where I'm going. Use a straight razor and continue shaving. That song. You ought to be ashamed Well, we're certainly wasting a lot of time here. What have you got there, Mary? Fan mail. Only one? No increase over last week? No, but we're holding our own. Hmm. Let's have it. Oh, a special delivery. It's from Lake Potch and Plunning, Sullivan County, New York. It says, uh, Messrs. Wilson, Parker, Livingston, Bester, Pryor on the Market. Dear Jack, have been listening to all your programs since last Friday. We thought your play, The House of Rothschild, was very comical. We liked it because our name is Roth and we have a child. In fact, we have eight other childs making nine childs in the House of Roth. Four work for my husband Roth and the other five work in child. There. So no matter how you serve it, the house belongs to Rothschild. If it isn't asking too much this week, we would like to have you give us another play and call it The House of Benny. Signed yours truly as ever and likewise, Messrs. Roth and the nine childs. Mary, can you imagine a request for The House of Benny? Well, you live in a house, don't you Jack? Yes, but what's interesting about that? Go ahead and do it. You don't have to tell them about the sheriff and the mortgage. That isn't it, but I mean who cares about my home? Hey Don, what do you think we ought to play tonight? I kind of like that idea, The House of Benny. But nothing happened there, Don. Now you take the life of Napoleon. That was interesting. Or Shakespeare or Rothschild, they accomplished something. But what does anyone care about my house? Some people like to go slumming. Oh yeah? I see, well let me tell you something. I lived in one of the finest houses in Waukegan. If they want to hear about The House of Benny, they're going to get it. So tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we are going to offer that great American play, The House of Benny, in Waukegan, Illinois. The town where Lincoln was born. What Lincoln? Tom Lincoln. He's a friend of mine in the grocery business. Oh, I thought you meant Abe. You're thinking of Abe Lyman, the orchestra leader. Anyway, our play, The House of Benny, will go on immediately after the next number. Slumming, eh? Say property man. What? Put up a beautiful home on this stage. Get some Louis XIV furniture. A dozen Michelangelo paintings. Six or seven whole diamonds. And a garden like you've never seen before. Slumming, eh? Play, Don. Play, Don. Play, Don. Play, Don. Play, Don. Play, Don. Play, Don. Play, Don. Play, Don. Play, Don. Play, Don. Play, Don. Play, Don. Play, Don. Play, Don. Plumbing. That was a medley from Rain or Shine, played by Don Besser and his Waukegians. And now for that great play of American life in Illinois, The House of Benny. I, strangely enough, will play the part of Jack Benny. And Don Wilson will play the part of my father. The opening scene is the interior of the Benny home, where a baby is born, which is me. Curtain? Music, John. Wait a minute. The House of Benny, not Rubenoff. This is awful. This is awful. The suspense is killing me. What are you so nervous about, Hiram Benny? I'm about to become a father who wouldn't be nervous. I guess that's me, folks. There it is. There is. I am a father. Hooray! Congratulations, Hiram. Hooray for Hiram. Hooray! Oh, thanks, fellas. Thanks. I hope it's a boy. Congratulations, Hiram Benny. Here's your baby. Tell me, nurse, what is it, a boy or a girl? It certainly is. They'll find out. What is it, nurse? It's a boy, and it weighs 12 pounds. Hmm, looks like I'll have to go on a diet right away. Thank heavens, I now have an heir. A what? Are you here again, an heir, an heir? What's on your head? A can of ashes. I'm the janitor. Just look at the little dolly. A koochee koochee koochee. A koochee koochee koochee. Koochee koochee yourself. Who is this lady holding me? Why, that's your nurse. Nurse to you too, Papa. Oh, this is the happiest day of my life. Come on, boys, come on, have a cigar. Take a handful. I'll take one. Me too. What about me? It's my party. I wonder what we ought to name the baby. I think you ought to call him Don. I don't like Don. There are too many Dons on this program. That's right. That's right. What can we call him? I wouldn't call him at all. Just leave him there. Oh, the poor kid wants a name. How about calling him Jack? Yeah. That's it. That's it. He likes the name of Jack. Well, why not Christen him? All right. I now Christen you Jack Benny. He didn't have to break a bottle over his head. And this is the start of the rise of the House of Benny. We now take you to the same house eight years later, where Jack is already showing signs of talent. Stop that noise, son. Stop that noise. You know, it's your birthday today. How old are you now? Eight years old at you and five to the street car conductor. See, folks, I'm cracking wise already. Stop that noise. Stop that noise. We'll have no violin players in the House of Benny. Throw away that violin. There's no money in it. And besides, you'll never be a Chrysler. All right, so I'll be a Pontiac. Chrysler Pontiac, as long as it's got general tires. My son, music isn't a career for you. I want you to be a doctor or a lawyer. No, pop. If I can't feel musician, I want to be a master of ceremonies and make people laugh. Hello again. This is Jack Benny talking. And tonight, we're going to give you a blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Add a voice. See the talent coming out, folks. What do you mean a master of ceremonies? I want to tell jokes like this, Father. How many hairs on a monkey's face? The next time you shave, count them. You get a pop? How am I hot tonight? Get better as I go older. Yes, I'm just as good now as whoever works. Stop arguing with yourself, my boy. Anyway, I don't want to hear any more about jokes. You take up a profession like your father's. What are you a profession, Dad? Me? I am retired. Oh, a bum, eh? What's that? I didn't say anything. Yes, you did. I heard you. Oh, that was years later. Come in. Well, well, well, it's your little friend, Mary Livingston, from the east. She came here with her mother. Hello, Mary. Hello, Frankie. That's Mary Livingston, the gay 90s. She looks like Shirley around the temple. That's what I mean, Dad. See how funny I'm going to be when I grow up? Well, I guess I'll have to leave you two kids alone to play. By the time you got out of here. Oh, yeah? Take that, you little brat, and that, and that. Oh, well, I didn't say anything. Ah, he was a good old father. Never laid a hand on me. All of you just came. Don't cry, Jackie. You'll be a big man someday in the house if anyone ever holds you. I'm not going to stay here. I want to be a radio comedian, Mary. I'm going to go to Chicago and get a job on the air. Hey, that's great, Jackie. Is your mother not going with you? Well, I only got eight cents. I think you'd better leave mother here, Jackie. Eight cents? Then what are we waiting for? Let's go. For Mary, what can you do on the radio? Labor Day. Oh, Labor Day. You've got the wine seniors. That's fine. Let's go. Goodbye, Jack. Goodbye, Jackie. Success to us. Gee, I was a cute kid. And then started the cavalcade. Away we went to Chicago, London, Paris, Vienna, Budapest, New York, New Haven, Hartford. And then came the war. Hartman, Brother, Boop, Boop, Boop, Boop. What are we fighting for? Then came prohibition. Then came maywet. I took some time. I took some time. I took some time. Then came the world's married Chicago penis, popcorn, crackerjack, lemonade. Then came the Johnstown flood, the burning of Rome in the fall of carnera. Then came pictures, Crawford, Gable, Wiener, Woolsey, Groucho, Raucho, Chico, and Zeppel. And what are we fighting for? Then came Noel Coward with a better cavalcade than we have. Then came the crash of 1923. More marches. More marches. More marches. And then came maywet. Aw, Jack, I'm tired. So I took some time. I took some time. I took some time. And then came the transatlantic merry-go-round with Jack Benny. And then came the John. Now, 1934. And we take you again to the house of Benny in Waukegan, Illinois. Lawrence. Yes, Father. I suppose you remember that little tramp brother of yours that left here before the war? Yes, Father. I wonder whatever happened to him. Oh, I suppose he's in jail someplace. That boy was born at tramp and I couldn't do a thing with him. But, Father, he was my brother and your son. Yes, that's right. Well, I tried to make a man out of him, but he preferred to be a tramp. Lawrence, tune in that radio and let's forget about him. Okay, Dad. Hello again. This is your master of ceremonies, Jack Benny speaking. Jack Benny, tune that in louder. And here is Mary Livingston. Say, Mary, how many hairs on a monkey's face? This'll kill you, Paul. The next time he says, count them. Oh, that's your 40 years ago. What do you think of your son now, Dad? He's still a tramp. Labor Day. All Labor Day. You've come but once a year. Oh, tune out there, John. Tune it out. Now listen, daughter, I have something to say to you. Yes, Father. What is it? If you ever do what your brother did, use the General Tire as you will not only get more mileage, but you will earn and blow out proof. They can be purchased on convenient terms through your General Tire dealer. That wasn't my father at all, Paul. He sells insurance. Play it on. Conditions of legal warfare throughout the tire industry are responsible for the biggest sale ever put on by General Tire dealers. From coast to coast, it's their answer to competitive sales that have been advertised at special discounts. Continuing through Labor Day, you can buy famous UL Grip and UL Balloon blowout proof generals at preferred wholesale prices. No matter what size you use, you'll be surprised what you can do in this sale. There is still a good supply of all popular sizes. Let the General Tire dealer show you how far he can go in a tire deal for your car. It's an opportunity for unmatched saving, an extra value for car owners who are prepared to take advantage of this timely condition. This is the last number of the 20-second program in the General Tire series, and we'll be with you again next Friday night. I hope you liked our play, The House of Benny, Cavalcade, and What's Price Glory. Next week we will give you East Lynn, The Cat, and The Fiddles. If you can think of anything else we'll put that into. Come on, Mary, let's go. Oh, Jack, I'm sorry, but I've already got a date tonight. Oh, well, when am I going to see you again, Mary? On Labor Day. On Labor Day. Good night, folks. This is the National Broadcasting Company. It is now 10 seconds past 11 o'clock p.m. Eastern Daylight Saving Time, Station WEAF, New York.