 This is Ronald Coleman inviting you to join Mrs. Coleman and me for the next half hour. When our sponsors, the brewers of Schlitz beer, present the Halls of Ivy. The people are doing all over the country. As for Schlitz, the beer that made Milwaukee famous. Schlitz tastes so good to so many people that it's the largest selling beer in America. It has to be fine to be first. It's tuning up with his own doray meat. I'm sorry, you can make it. I don't want to make it, Vicki. I want to lose it. That musical phrase has been haunting me, trailing through my consciousness like a broken garter. Yeah, I know how it is. That's why they say if you run through your mind, if it just walked, you would catch up with it and kill it. I believe it's from a current dizzy called the Tennessee Waltz. Correct. Still box-favorite. It is? Well, I might have set myself up against the popular taste. I've always contended that the popular songs of a nation reflected current subconscious mood. Now they sound the surface temperament. It's an interesting theory, doctor. Can you back it up? Certainly. Do you realize that 87 and 2 thirds percent of our population is subject to the impact of a current popular melody? Of these people, 48 and 1 sixth percent do not realize that the mood induced by this certain tune is reflected in their day-to-day actions, and that 13.7 percent are so torn-deaf that it doesn't matter. Why did you find all that out? And where did you get the statistics? Well, any sensible man who embarks upon a ridiculous theory gets them. I made them up. What the fuck? Any statistic uttered in a loud, firm tone becomes, for the sake of debate, an immediate crux, almost never challenged. Particularly if the decimal point is yours to create. There's something about a decimal point which seems to indicate the most pain-staking research, and few doubting Thomas' will be unmanly enough to question it. We are a nation of efficiency, Washington, and statistics, but where did this start? Joke boxes, folk songs, decimal points, statistics. Like the man on his way to Alcatraz, you can get a long way from home with one cent. Need observations. Well, thank you. Thank you. Did you ever stop to think that 29.4 percent of my conversation was made up of need observations? That 16.9 was composed of complementary remarks about you. 46.11, or perhaps a chapter. And 13.2, pure not. That's a total of 105.61. Forgetting some outside help. Ah, give up now. Let's go back and play the jukebox some more. Evidentical folk songs that go on from there. Well, I've been toying with the theory, and considering that the debate is merely with myself, I haven't partnered with statistics. The theory that the current wave of popular music, hillbillies, square dances, waltzes and reels, is highly significant. It's a reaching back for reassurance, a flight from the harsh possibilities of our atomic future. It's rather sad in a way, but in a lot of folk songs are sad. They reflect the melancholy spirit of a passive resistance to fate. Even the gayer, and more sprightly to yours. You know, where someone is going, somewhere with a banjo on his knee. And is it a basically sad song? How on earth did I become such an authority on popular music? I'm willing to drop the subject here, but if Madame Hosner sings for Tennessee Waltz at her concert tomorrow night, we can start all over again. Well, the doubt that she will. Well, we've set a pretty high standard with our Ivy Music Concert Series. Heifetz, Rubenstein, Marion Anderson, Yadagorsky, Madame Optner. You know, a very impressive list of... Oh, of course. Forget Tennessee. Here's Mississippi. That'll be Calhoun Daddy with the eggs. Well, howdy, folks. Hello, Calhoun. I just come visit you. Come on in. Well, just for a minute or two, I'm kind of rushed this morning, Dr. Hall. What, an early morning class? No, sir. An early morning wife. I was out yet in my age this morning, about six o'clock, and I turned around there. It was Lori. Cleaning up from Cebu, Mississippi, and looking pretty as a peach tree in the rain. Oh. Your wife's here, Ivy? Yes, ma'am. Old Ed's baby from over in Egypt brought her up. Egypt? That's the town in Chickasaw County. Oh, oh. I hope you'll bring her over to see us while she's here, Calhoun. Well, I sure would like to, Doc, but she's only going to be staying two, three days. She aims to get right back to her church work. Lori's got a conscience like a co-bunked hornet's nest. Oh, dear. And you're all nice to concert. And, sad, do we have an engagement. But we're free tonight, aren't we, William? We are. Yes, we are. I hope you enjoy. Come over for dinner. Oh, Ms. Hall. Glory be tickled, pinker than a pink-eyed pig. Well, I got the hustle. Oh, by the way, Doc, many happy returns of the day. Well, thank you, but it's nothing like that. Well, sir, this week a friend of yours and mine's going to be 387 years old. For the mutual friend. Oh, of course, William Shakespeare. Yeah, it's his anniversary week. And I just feel like congratulating everybody and stand down and close down my bookcase and fire off a saluted twenty-one song. Now, your life's got to own a tribute to yours. It's not of an age, but for all time, as his friend Ben Johnson said, my Shakespeare rise. Now, art a monument within a tomb, and art alive still, while I booked us live, and we have wicks to read and prayers to give. 387 years old is still going strong. Do you think what them Elizabethans would have done if they'd known about vitamins? Well, goodbye, folks. Now tell Glory. It's such a haul. Oh, Mr. Wellman, I'll see you later, Paul. Yeah, we'll celebrate the birthday tonight, Calhoun. Morning, Mr. Wellman. So long, Mr. Wellman. Yeah, thank you. Birthday. This evening? This evening. That's what I came to tell you about this evening. It didn't all be at 7.30. That's high. What did? Our last minute of the race, but that's why I'm inviting you personally. She wasn't expected until tomorrow morning that she arrived at the site of noon. That's why I'm giving her dinner. But, Mr. Wellman, I had some difficulty in persuading her. She wanted to have that as after all. However, I did finally convince her that it was the least she could, I mean, we could do. And what is this, Doctor? So far, you have neglected to identify the she in your invitation. And furthermore, I'm afraid we have an engagement for this evening. Yeah, Mrs. Gadi is here from Thibault, Mississippi. Madam Huffner is here from Vienna, Austria. Oh, this is to be a semi-official affair. Victoria, I don't think the Gadi's will mind if we change. Did you say Gadi? Yes. Well, now, I'd say, well, in that case, I'll extend your regrets to Madam Huffner. I trust you have an enjoyable evening. Goodbye. And I'll be delighted to find my own way on. Yes, but, Mr. Wellman, if you wait, I... Mr. Wellman's invitations must be made out of bad chicks. They really bounce, don't they? I've never seen one withdrawn with such dexterity. I wonder how one so slight of mind could have mastered such slight of hand. I was trying to tell him that we could rearrange our plans. Yeah, he seemed awfully pleased and excused to call it off. And as President of Ivy, you probably should go to that dinner. Yeah, that's what I was about to tell Mr. Wellman. I sometimes feel he doesn't like us. I've never known anything so magnificently neutral. Dr. Hall, Ms. Hall, this here's my wife, Lori. Mrs. Gattie. Oh, I'm so glad to meet you. Come in, Mrs. Gattie. Come in. Oh, please, just call me, Lori. I'll be looking over my shoulder to see who you're talking to. I'm real pleased to meet you. Well, now, here, let me have your coat. Oh, why, what's this, Calhoun? Oh, Ms. Hall, Lori's been fussing all the way over here because I brought her a guitar. I wanted to sing for you. She is a regular mockingbird. Oh. Lady Calhoun, why'd they want to hear me? Because they're folks who can appreciate good things. Now, now sit down, Lori, and tell me how's the baby? Oh, little Willie's just as bright as a starry night in the Ponywoods, Ms. Hall. Just wait till you sing. Lori brought me a slap. That little bitty, old, ugly, pretty fellow on the big gas last. That is Willie Todd, Hunter Gattie. Oh, he's a darling. And you know, Toddie, I think he looks like you. Look. That age, they tell me I resembled nothing so much as a waxed doll with criminal instincts. Oh. You're going to dinner? Yes. Yes. And afterwards, Lori, we'd love to hear you sing, although we have no established policy of making our guests sing for their fellow. Down to the holler, the boys all follow her. She had Joan's daughter with a low neck collar. She can't cook, she can't sew. She roams the woods like a yearling doe. One, two, three, you can follow me. And jam Joan's daughter to the sycamore tree. I got a fever in my bones. She's full of sand, my head's full of stones. Got a fever in my bones for the no cap. We can shy. Don't need to ask which one is best. Take a good look and you know the rest. What can you do with the likes of her? Cleanse to your heart like a sizzle down bird. Kiss her once, tell her no more. Tomorrow comes and you're not going to get this song. Thank you, Calhoun, for bringing her guitar along tonight. But you never told us your wife was such an artist. Tomorrow she sings real sweet, no she doesn't. With you out the year in the kitchen at breakfast time. Oh, five children, Joy, and you can still sing at breakfast. Anyway, I'll keep everybody quiet in his home. I learned that from my mama. She always had singing, was much better than talking. You never get into any arguments that way. Gloria's mama says if you've got to pick on something, get a guitar. Yes, she was right to. Take any four men, no matter what. Calhoun Duggery, they've planned for each other. Organize them into a barbershop quartet and you have some kind of harmony. But with Calhoun's empty of Duggery. You know, the next time the board of... Oh, hey, Doc, you got company? Well, it's unexpected. Excuse me, I'll see you later. Mr. Meriwether, come in. I saw your lights on, so I thought I'd be the first to bear tidings of mixed horror and hilarity. One, if I land, and two, if I wellman. Whatever it is, come in. I think the Meriwether, but nothing could be nice. You know Calhoun Gatti, don't you? Who doesn't? How are you, Gatti? Oh, proud is a spotted plot, Mr. Meriwether. I want you to meet my wife, Lori. It's a pleasure, Mrs. Gatti. Howdy, Mr. Meriwether. Dr. Hall, you must have known what was going to happen at Wellman's Wing Ding tonight, and that's why you ducked it. Oh, does anything ever happen at Mr. Wellman's Wing Ding? Nothing good. Now, just listen. First, there were eggs stuffed with caviar. Uh, pink caviar. But it was in the middle of the schnitzel and a whole stein that the guest of honor turned a hunter's green and fled from the table. Yep, parents sent out an emergency call for Hippocrates, Vespasian, Pasteur, Lister, Osler, the Mayo Brothers, and Flossy Nightingale. Madam Hopfner should have been forewarned about Mr. Wellman's banquets. He has the gastronomic judgment of a nearsighted goat. And they're very greasy, greasy. That means that this Mr. Wellman don't know his grits from his graveyard. Well now, how about a concert tomorrow night, Mr. Meriwether? Oh, I guess you pulled through, just a touch of domain. What about the rest of the guest? Waiting with fear and trembling. I feel as though I'm living on bar of time. You just sit here and think sweet thoughts. Glory, a special favor to Mr. Meriwether. Won't you sing the rough, candy mountain? Now, someday you remind me to remove the dark shot. Mr. Meriwether. Yes, ma'am, back again on the slightest pretext. You don't need any commanding. Well, hello, doctor. Have you heard the latest about La Hopfner? Oh, I haven't been able to break through Wellman's wall of silence yet. Well, get this. Wellman, in honest remorse, tried to make amends to his guests and send her a lavish floral piece this morning. He meant well that much, I concede. Bless his bulletproof little heart. Whenever anyone says he meant well, that means he's made a mess of things. Very concisely stated, ma'am. He couldn't have known, but Madam Hopfner has an allergy to gardenia as a violent one. And now her sinuses are so badly affected, she won't be able to sing tonight. That nose-gay of his didn't make hers very... Yes, you know what I mean. Well, don't we postpone the concert a day or two? No, there's the rugs. He's due back in New York at the Met. If he hasn't recovered by next week, Rudolph Bing may sue us. Or Clarence will cast me to get a replacement. On such short notice, who could we get? Tadee, do you remember what we were saying about folk songs? Uh-huh. Do you suppose Glory could do it? Glory. Calvary and Gabby's wife? Uh-huh. Say, I'll go for that, Doc. Do you think she can fill the shoes of a big opera singer? I think she wears a smaller size, but... I'm not a singer than Art is, too. Well, certainly. Just to mention, too, John Jacob Niles and Burl Ives control 3,500 people into any auditorium in the country. Oh, it's certainly okay with me, but... What about the Ivy Music Society? Oh, that's your department, so you'll make arrangements on that end. And you better let Wellman know that you've taken over, but don't tell him it's Calhoun's wife. Ha-ha. Mention the blue-tailed fly to him, and he'll be waiting with a swathe. Well, I don't think Clarence is going to have much to say. For a few days. Say, what are we going to call this girl? Well, if you've made a name, Glory Go Lightly. Glory Go Lightly. Ha-ha-ha. Hallelujah. Ha-ha-ha. Ever since it may sound, I'd say that if Hock and I hadn't lost the power, we'd never have the glory. Ha-ha-ha. Whom she's changing her dress in the back. Well, Ms. Hall, you should have singed, Glory, when I told her. She lit up like a camp-me. And she's been fussing to wear that there party dress ever since she got it for Aunt Effie's funeral. Ha-ha-ha. Well, oh, there you are, Glory. Oh, you look just plain delicious. Ha-ha-ha. Okay, all right. Ms. Hall, it's real saddened. Yeah, it's lovely. It's lovely, Glory. Lovely. Uh, what do you think, William? Me? Oh, uh, yes. Well, I, uh... Yes, yes, it is saddened. And then bold. Ha-ha-ha. Glory, you has fluffed up as a new busted cotton ball. Now, do you know, Calhoun, I don't think it does justice to Glory. Don't you like it, Ms. Hall? Well, it's not that. It's just that it takes away from you. I like that candle-scurrant blouse you wore last night. Good stage. Well, those are just miraculous clothes. The simpler the dress, the more appropriate for your folk balance. Just a guitar, a girl, and her song. Well, Dr. Hall, you don't want me to sing them old things for all those people? Well, that was my idea. What did you have in mind? Oh, I've been practicing up all afternoon on some real good tunes. I thought I'd begin with, baby, it's cold outside. Ha-ha-ha. Baby, it's... Then I could sing La Vee and Rose, and maybe end with some, I love you truly. Now, Glory, if you don't mind a suggestion, I think all those are fine, but they're a little too familiar. I like the songs you sang for us last night, and I'm sure the audience would love them, too. They're just heavy on Ms. Hall. I like them, but they're so old. They've been lastingly new, Glory. I have no objection to popular songs, but they march in and march out with the hit parade. Your songs started somewhere beyond memory, and they never die. Oh, Doc, right, sugarfoot. You know Dernwell, you learned them from your mom, and she learned them from her mom, and she learned them playing back for anybody was born. Ha-ha-ha. Back when the only guitar was a win through the cap tape. Well, if you all think so, I don't mind. I just thought you wanted me to put on a show. Last night, Glory, you told us that you sing for only one reason, because you liked to. That's the best reason, and that's why your singing makes others happy. Happiness is contagious, and if the virus is ever isolated, it'll probably be music. So, just sing that way tonight, and you'll be a show... for attention for a moment. I regret to announce that due to an unfortunate sudden illness, Madame Lottie Huffner cannot appear tonight. However, we... we are going to hear another artist this evening, a folk singer. All great masters drew deeply from the treasury of folk music. As Vaughan Williams, the great British composer, has put it, at the root of the musical quality of a nation, lies the natural music, or simplest and clearest manifestation as the folks are. And where can we look? Sure a proof that our art is living, than in that music which has for generations voiced the spiritual lunging of our people. Ladies and gentlemen, I'm proud to present Miss Glory Goleite. Sir Wellman, did you enjoy the concert? Yes, I did. It was different, but... and I never thought I'd do well. Yes, I did. She's on the road to New York. And I mean, she's gone. No, that is, she's left. Well, it was regrettable, Mr. Wellman. Yes, yes, well, it was very unfortunate, but as it turned out, I see, Dr. Hall, everything turns out for the best. The music decided it came through in the crisis. Ivy can be proud. We can all be proud. And I can be proud. For such a brilliant occasion. Congratulations, Clarence. Well, he did nothing, but I do feel that after such a tragedy, and by the way, I'm suing the grocer who's only that heavy heart. But what's this young lady who replaced our celebrity deserves the highest praise? I'm just on my way to pay my respects. Sir, where is she? Miss Goleite. Well, Mr. Wellman, I'm glad to introduce you to her. You know her, Dr. Hall? Yes, I do. This way, Mr. Wellman. This way, Mr. Wellman. Yeah. Ah, excuse me, Calhoun. Glory. I don't believe you've met the chairman of our Board of Governors. This is Mr. Clarence Wellman. Howdy, Mr. Wellman. Mr. Wellman, this is Mrs. Young lady, you were magnificent. You saved the day. There we were. I'm the halls of the dilemma. Mr. Wellman, what is this? I don't believe you've got the name. This is Mrs. Gattie. How do you know Mrs. Gattie? Mrs. Gattie. Mrs. Gattie. Mrs. Calhoun Gattie. Mrs. Calhoun Gattie. Mrs. Gattie. Mrs. Gattie. Well, yes, I... Well, naturally, I... He's a fast man with five children. Congratulations, Mrs. Gattie. Good night. She never entered that girl's mind, but she could make a career out of her singing. Why should it? She has a career already. Yes, she has a name and life as a wife and mother. But you, my sweet, you were an established success and you gave up your star status to become just plain, beautiful Mrs. William Tatana Hall. Oh, darling, darling. I didn't give up a thing. In fact, I'm currently appearing in my greatest vehicle called Teacher's Pet and Beautifully, which looks due for a very long...