 Family Theatre presents Alan Young and Patricia Neal. Action with Family Theatre Incorporated brings you Alan Young and Frank Stockton's My Terminal Moray. To introduce our story, your hostess, Patricia Neal. Thank you, Gene. Perhaps one of the most delightful pens that ever put words on paper belonged to a man whose name was Frank R. Stockton. His short stories and novels had the late 19th century United States laughing and chuckling from coast to coast. While his best known work is undoubtedly The Lady or the Tiger. The story we're going to present tonight, titled My Terminal Moray, is much more representative of the man and his wonderfully unbelievable, believable characters and his sheer, heartwarming, whimsy and humor. Our star, Alan Young, will appear as the unforgettable hero, Walter Cuthbert, in Frank R. Stockton's unforgettable novelette, My Terminal Moray. Well, I was certainly the unluckiest man in the world. Really unlucky. Imagine the situation I was in. 28 years of age and single. I owned a large house and 40 acres of land, free and clear. I had a small independent income and my days were so filled with hunting and fishing that there was no time left in which to work. Yes, I was undoubtedly the unluckiest man in the world. You see, it was my new neighbors who bought the 700 acres next to mine and... But let me tell you how I met them and you'll soon understand what I mean. One lovely spring day I was wandering near the fence line of our property as deeply engrossed in thought when my mental celebrations were interrupted. Hello there. Oh, why, hello. You're Mr. Walter Cuthbert, are you now? Cuthbert? Well, yes, but yes, yes, that's Walter Cuthbert is me. I, I mean I. I'm Ms. Agnes Havelott. I think you're very nice. Oh, you do? Yes. In spite of everything my father has said about you. Well, I'm delighted that he... Now don't you worry, Mr. Cuthbert. Don't you worry about a thing. All right, I won't. Worry about what? We'll get along just famously, won't we? Why, certainly, of course. Things will work out just fine, Mr. Cuthbert. You wait and see. Just fine. Well, goodbye now, Mr. Cuthbert. And remember, don't worry about a thing. Goodbye, Ms. Havelott. And don't you worry. No. Not about a, about a thing. It was inevitable, of course. The impact of such a romantic meeting could have at one result. I found myself deeply, madly, unbearably in love with it. Certainly you realize now why I was so unlucky. You don't? Well, it's perfectly obvious. The girl's father, of course. After all, when a man comes up to you, craftily concealing his real intent behind a torrent of honeyed words, what else could you expect? Of all the inconsiderate, I'm grateful. Boris, incompetent and incompetent. I've ever had them as fortunate to encounter you, sir. You, Walter Cuthbert, head the list. Thank you, sir. But I don't believe I've had the pleasure of an introduction. Pleasure, indeed. Do you know who I am, young man? I just said I don't... Of course I am. Exactly. J. Ascot Terwilliger Havelott. Your new neighbor, sir. Well, Mr. Havelott, may I welcome you to this lovely... Welcome, indeed. No wonder you'll welcome me. You, you fortune hunter. Fortune hunter? Oh, so you admitted to you. Why, why, I don't... The praise and impudence, the confounded gall, admitting to my face your nefarious designs of my daughter Agnes and on my fortune. Your daughter? Oh, that's who she is. I beg your pardon. I said, huh? Yes, of course you did. Well, just let me tell you this, young man. The only way you'll ever marry my daughter is over my dead body. What have you to say to that, eh? What do you have to say to that? I had plenty to say to that, naturally. My answer was a cutting, biting blow. Marrying your daughter over your dead body, sir, would give me the greatest combination of happiness that I could possibly conceive. My answer was devastating, of course. My only regret was that he'd already left and didn't hear it. However, be that as it may, Mr. Havelott's wild accusations didn't deter me in the least. I courted his daughter with the boldness, the daring, the irresistible courage of a knight errant. Good evening, sir. Tell me, my good man, is Miss Agnes Havelott at home? Are you Mr. Walter Cuthbert's... Yes, yes, that's my name. No, sir, she's not at home. Oh, she isn't, isn't she? No, sir, she is not. Ah, well, thank you very much. Good evening, is Miss Agnes Havelott... No, you blithering mink and poof, she's not. Oh, thank you. It was several weeks later that my good friend Tom Burton came visiting me. I poured out all my troubles into his sympathetic ears. Well, if you want my opinion, Walter, you're a jackass. Thank you, Tom. I knew I could depend on... what'd you say? If you're in love with a girl, why not marry her? I explained to you, Tom, it's a matter of money. If you made your own fortune, old man Havelott couldn't kick then, could he? No. No, of course he couldn't. But how would you suggest I go about it? You could always go to work. No, no, that wouldn't do, would it? Well, why not strike it rich somewhere, discover oil or gold mines? That's it, Tom, that's it. Well, I could make a fortune overnight. I... oh, by the way, do you have any ideas as to where I could start? Well, certainly start right here. Wonderful, I'll start right here? Sure, on your own property. But there's no gold or oil here. How do you know? What's perfectly obvious that... Have you ever prospected for any? I know, but... Do you have any knowledge of geological formations? Earth structures, soil compositions? I know, but I... Well, I know all about these things. You do? Certainly, certainly. During my freshman year in college I took a full semester in geology. I know all about it. And I can tell you right here and now you have a perfectly magnificent terminal moraine. I have? Thank you, that's just great, wonderful. It is, isn't it? Naturally, you know what a terminal moraine is. Oh, certainly, certainly why it's... Well, during the Ice Age many years ago, Walter, this part of the continent was entirely covered with a tremendous sheet of ice. Fancy that. Must have been quite chilly here. I imagined the whole... Is this huge glacier moved along? Now it scooped out thousands of tons of earth ahead of it, like a tremendous shovel, and after pushing that stuff along for a few thousand years it stopped moving. Pretty tired by then, I imagine, huh? All those tons of earth and rock were left right here on your property. And what is known as a terminal moraine? Well, terminal moraine or not, that was a lot of nerve dumping all that stuff on my property. Ah, but what if that glacier had dug out a bit of gold somewhere and dropped it here, or a mountain of iron ore? Oh, well, that's different, isn't it? Vastly different. Walter, I am positive that you can make your fortune. Win the goodwill of Mr. Havelot? Marry his daughter Agnes? And all because of your simply magnificent terminal moraine? I was, of course, vastly encouraged by my good friend's words. Now that I was the proud owner of this terminal moraine, I could see my troubles being drowned in a river of flowing oil, being buried beneath a mountain of gold and bullion, so I plunged into the business of prospecting with a feverish energy and indomitable will. Well, Tom, what do we do now? Well, we'll need some excavating equipment, a core of laborers, supplies, miscellaneous tools. You'll have to come up with a little cash, Walter. A little cash? Yes, a trifling sum should suffice. I say we could get started nicely for about $5,000. $5,000? $5,000? But they're to Tom. Yes, I know, I know. What are a few filthy dollars compared to the hand of lovely Agnes Havelot, huh? Well, Walter? Well, I'll draw you a check at once, Tom. Almost immediately my land was overrun with wheelbarrows, picked shovels, laborers, and piles of earth that came from countless holes that were being dug everywhere. The entire proceedings were naturally under my very capable supervision, and Tom came to me constantly for guidance and advice. Well, Walter, old man, how do you think things look? Well, I'll tell you, Tom, in my opinion... You bet they are, old man. You bet they are. And we can keep up the good work with just a bit more cash. About $1,500 should do it. We've finished exploring the Northridge, Walter. What next now? Well, it would seem to me the best place to try would be... That's wonderful! I'd never have thought of that. We'll need to do some blasting there, of course. About $2,000 should take care of the equipment. Well, Walter, how far down should we drive this shaft? Well, I'd say if we drove it down... We'll do it! And it won't cost more than an extra $2,500. Yes, the work was going on at pace. How lucky I was to have such a good friend as Tom, who spared neither time, trouble, nor... money to make my fortune. And then came the big day. The day that Tom came rushing up to me so excited, he could hardly... Walter! Walter, old boy! I've got it! I've got it! So I hear, Tom, it's an awful cold, too. Let me suggest some warm lemonade and then possibly... Oh, no, no, no! You don't understand. I've got you... You're... I've got your fortune made for you. Tom! Tom, you mean we've struck it rich? What is it, Tom? Oil, gold, iron ore? Oh, don't be silly. It's none of those common run-of-the-mill things. It's something the likes of which you've never dreamed of. Walter, we've struck ice. Ice? That's what I said. So far as I know, Walter, you're the only man in the world who's the proud and fortunate owner of an ice mine. As Tom hurried me over to the shaft to examine our astounding discovery, I was still so dazed that most of his scientific explanation passed completely over my head. However, I did manage to retain some snatches of it. A spur of the glacier was lying on top of some caves. Massive weight broke through the roof. Ice lay buried there on the earth for thousands of years. And here it is, Walter. Millions of tons of ice on your terminal moraine. You see, Walter? Solid ice! What are you thinking of it now, huh? Coffee-co-co-co-co… Cold down here. That's one of… One of… One of the natural characteristics of ice, my boy. It's amazing. It's astounding. But what of it? What of it? Walter, here under your very feet is enough ice to supply the town, the county, yes, even the state for hundreds of years. It'll make you one of the wealthiest men in the world. Now, what do you say to that? Well, that's true, Tom. Why, there's only one thing for me to say, and that ad is... Once the magnitude of this tremendous stroke of good fortune penetrated my consciousness, nothing could hold me back. I rushed out of the mine to inform Agnes and Mr. Havel out at once. So impetuous was my dash over to their estate, I only paused to stop at my house for a warm bath, a hot lemonade, and a generous-sized mustard plaster for my chest. Then, thus fortified against the world, I knocked, trembling with impatience upon their door. Yes, who is... Why, it's Mr. Cuthbert. Agnes. Agnes, my beloved. My darling. I beg your pardon? No longer shall a harsh barrier of differing social positions and lack of wealth keep us apart, my sweetest. We can now share our true and rightful happiness together. Mr. Cuthbert. What in the world are you saying? Just these words, my wonderful one. The most beautiful words are spoken by man. Agnes, my angel. The glacial period and my terminal moraine have given thee to me. She stared at me, stunned by the wonderful, unbelievably good news. Her lips trembled with unspoken syllables of joy and love. And I'll never forget the words that finally passed those ruby lips. Mr. Cuthbert. Mr. Cuthbert, sir. You're crazy. I realized at once why she'd closed the door so gently against me. As a shy, modest young lady, she could scarcely be expected to reveal immediately the love she had in her heart from me. Besides, I suddenly remembered. She hadn't spoken to or even seen me since the day we first met. So, laughing gaily, I knocked upon the door once again. Agnes, my shy little dove, let me kiss away your tender little fears. Stop kissing me, you blithering idiot! Oh, it's Mr. Haviloth. Sneaking around behind my back to make love to my daughter, are you? Trying to get a first mortgage on my bank account, eh? Well, let me tell you, you fortune-hunting Casanova, I'll... Stop, Mr. Haviloth, desist. Cease your nasty insinuations at once, or I'll have my bankers smash you on Wall Street. You'll have your bankers do, what? I'll buy out every company in which you have an interest, Mr. Haviloth, and I'll break you on the wheel of high finance. You have your warning, sir. You'll do. You'll break me. Now shall we continue this discussion on a high plane as benefits two wealthy titans of industry? Or shall I be forced to duel you to the death in the financial moths of the world? Oh, no. No. The man must be mad. He's stark, raving mad. No, no, Mr. Haviloth, I... I merely happen to be one of the wealthiest men in the world, that's all. One of the wealthiest? Ha, ha, ha, ha. Of course, of course, you are, Mr. Guthrie. Of course, now... Now, why don't you go to one of your money vaults and sit there counting your loose chains until morning, huh? I see that you think I am joking, sir. I assure you that I am not. The sudden change in my financial status is all due to my terminal moraine. To your... To your what? My terminal moraine. And the glacier that broke through the roof of the cave and formed my ice mine. Glacier? Ice mine? Oh, yes, of course. Of course, Mr. Guthrie. Agnes. Agnes. Did you call for me, Follardier? Yes, Agnes. This gentleman here is mined as caved in. No, no, you... You misunderstood me, sir. It was the cave that caved in. I mean, the glacier that was iced, or the ice mined. Ha, ha, ha. You understand, don't you, Agnes? Oh, of course I do, Mr. Cuthbert. Poor dear, Mr. Cuthbert. I understand everything. Thank you, Agnes, my beloved. Well, sir, then I take it I have your permission to marry your daughter. Marry my daughter? Now, you just listened to me. You allopated mentally juvenile non-compensement issue. I'll... Follardier, father, the, uh... The caved in. Remember? Oh, yes, yes, of course. I'll, uh, I'll tell you what I'll do, young man. If you can bring me proof of your financial status, show me how anyone can get rich through a nice mine. Well, I'll not only give you Agnes, but I'll throw in a thousand gallons of fruit punch to go with your eyes. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. With this very encouraging cooperation for Mr. Havillot to spur me on, I plunged into the world of high finance with them and vigor. Once the news of my discovery spread, a continuous stream of wagons loaded with glacial ice wound their way from my enlarged mine to the railroad station, and a continuous stream of checks flowed into my bank account. I found big business to be exhilarating and trancing, and during those times when I had to be in the mine itself, quite chilling. Now, one noon hour when all the men were outside having lunch, I was down in the mine alone inspecting my property. I was smiling to myself at the thought of Mr. Havillot's face when I finally brought him down here. And then it happened. A section of the roof had given way. Tons of ice had fallen across the mouth of the tunnel and blocked my exit. I was buried alive in my ice mine. Naturally, I faced this horrible predicament calmly and unafraid. Help! There's no need to relate the happenings of the next four hours. With unflagging courage, I prepared myself for the inevitable end. And when I began to see glowing coals of fire, I was certain that end had come. I was wondering what misdeeds I could possibly have committed in the past to have ended up there when the coals burnt their way through the block of ice. A red-hot soldering iron had penetrated the block of ice. Then it was withdrawn, and I heard the voice of an angel. Hathbur, are you there? Hagnus. Hagnus, my beloved! You've come to my rescue. Are you crushed, Mr. Cuthbert? I know. Are you frozen? Well, a few chill-blames that... Are you starved? I don't think so. Why don't you say something, Mr. Cuthbert? Why don't you say something? Hello, Hagnus. My how lucky that I've had a college education. When I saw those soldering irons, I knew at once that they'd melt ice if they were only hot enough. Don't you think that a college education is a good thing for girls, Mr. Cuthbert? Hagnus, Hagnus, listen to me. I love you, and I have no desire for life or rescue unless you return that love. Speak to me, Hagnus, quickly. End my unbearable suspense. Do you love me as I love you? Well, frankly, in response to your question, Mr. Cuthbert, I could only say this. Courage, Walter, old boy. Courage. We've broken through. We'll have you out of there before anyone can say yes or no. Tom was right. I was out before I heard either a yes or no from Hagnus. But once above ground again, I wasted no time in seeking her out immediately. I could not bear to wait another moment before hearing her answer. So after I'd had a warm bath, a hot lemonade, and had placed yet another mustard plaster on my chest, I went after her. She was just entering the gates of her father's estate. Hagnus, wait! Wait for me, my darling. Oh, enough of this dilly-dallying, Hagnus. I must have your answer. I must. Answer, Mr. Cuthbert? To what? I surely have known how I felt about you all these long, lonely weeks, days. Well, Mr. Cuthbert, I... I confess I have. Ah, then you did hear my heart calling out to you across my 40 acres in your father's 700. No, it wasn't that. It was when you first called me Agnes, rather than Miss Havillot. I knew a gentleman like you would never refer to me by my first name, unless your intentions were strictly honorable. Then, then if you know, if you've known for all that time, tell me, what are your intentions toward me? Well, if I invite you over to speak with my father, need you ask Walter? Well, sir, surely by now you have sufficient proof of the existence of my ice mine? I have come to claim your daughter's hand. Stuff and nonsense! I beg your pardon? I said stuff and nonsense. Oh. I've read every book and article on ice, glaciers, caves, and terminal moraines that I could find, and nowhere is there anything that slightly resembles your cock-and-bull story of a glacier tumbling into a cave and lying there waiting to be mined. But the glacier is there, sir. And father, dear, you cannot argue against the facts. Confound facts! I base my arguments on sober, cool-headed reason, and there's nothing that withstands reason. Your ice mine simply does not exist. Very well, sir, but I shall continue to reap a fortune for my nonexistent ice mine for the rest of my days. And I, father, dear, wish to help Walter reap his fortune for the rest of my days. So you two care nothing about reason, eh? No, sir. Not a bit of it, father, dear. All right, then. I can do no more. You might just as well go on acting like a couple of ninny-hammers. Do ninny-hammers marry and settle on the property? The property adjoining yours, sir? Yes, I suppose they do. And when they find out that I'm right about that ridiculous ice mine, they can conform to a reasonable man for a little money to buy bread and butter. Well, two years have passed now. Agnes and the glacier are still mine. The ice still flows from the cave to the railroad, and the check still flow into the bank. As for Agnes and myself, whether based on sound reason or ridiculous fact, nothing could make us happier than we are with our warm love and our frigid fortune as we dwell here on my terminal moraine. Thanks for bringing us Frank Stofton's hilarious story, My Terminal Moraine. Wouldn't it be wonderful if all of us owned a terminal moraine, an ice mine which would make us rich and carefree? Then, like Walter and Agnes, we could marry, raise a family, and live happily ever after, without ever giving it a thought. But such things happen only in a writer's imagination. If we really owned an ice mine, it would probably melt away from us. And if we were so thoughtless as to base a marriage on it, I'm afraid the marriage would soon melt away too. We of family theater believe that marriage needs a much stronger foundation. Yes, we really believe that marriages are made in heaven. We believe that a man and woman who vow to love, honor, and obey one another need God's constant help if they are to be faithful to their promises. We believe that a family can grow in love and mutual understanding only by believing in God and living as he taught us. That is why we urge you each week to make faith and prayer a part of your daily life, a part of your marriage, and a part of your home. For the family that prays together stays together. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. These family theater broadcasts are made possible by the thousands of you who felt the need for this type of program and by the mutual network which has responded to this need. This is Gene Baker inviting you to be with us next week of this time when your family theater will bring you Edmund O'Brien and Gene and June Lockhart in the adventures of Robin Hood. Join us, won't you? Program came from Hollywood. For a daytime drama of family life, hear the romantic against the storm carried over the mutual line and most likely heard every week over the station to which you are now listening. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.