 Ladies and gentlemen, the Railroad Hour! And here comes our star-studded show train! Tonight, the Association of American Railroads presents Lawrence and Lee's version of the wonderful One-Host Shae by Oliver Wendell Holmes, starring Gordon MacRae and his charming guest Lucille Norman. A choir is under the direction of Norman Lubov, and the music is prepared and conducted by Carmen Dragon. Yes, tonight another musical premiere is brought to you by the American Railroads, the same railroads that bring you the food you eat, the clothes you wear, the fuel you burn, and the multitude of other things that you use in your daily life. The same railroads that bring you the finest in safe, comfortable, all-weather transportation at low cost. And now, here is our star, Gordon MacRae! Thank you, Marlon Miller, and good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, Lucille Norman and I are each going to be three different people, as we ride clean through the 19th century in the wonderful One-Host Shae. And we'll hear the story in the words of the man who wrote the famous poem, Mr. Oliver Wendell Holmes. Have you heard of the wonderful One-Host Shae that was built in such a logical way, it ran a hundred years to a day, and then, of a sudden, it... but stayed. I'll tell you what happened without delay. Have you heard of the wonderful One-Host Shae? Tell me, tell me, built in such a logical way, what a One-Host Shae? Gonna run or spring, gonna run or fall, built to run for a hundred years if ever it runs at all. In making a shea, I'll tell you what. Tell me, tell me, you're bound to find a weaker spot for One-Host Shae. There's a weaker spot, so without a doubt, that's the reason a shea breaks down, though it never wears out. I'm gonna build me a One-Host Shae. Tell me, tell me, built to last till I'm old and gray. Wonderful One-Host Shae. Gonna run all night, gonna run all day. Gonna run for a hundred years. Gonna run for a hundred years if ever it runs for a day. Wonderful One-Host Shae. It's awfully kind of you to drive me to the prayer meeting, Deacon. Pleasure's mine, Miss Nellie. After all, a shea may be made for only one horse, but there's room for two to ride. It's a handsome carriage, Deacon. Oh, it'll find its way to the junkyard. Doesn't everything wear out sometimes? No, by G. Horsofit. I've never known a carriage to wear out. What? Spring breaks, crossbar splits, hub cracks, and the whole carriage goes to the ash heap because one part was ailing and gave way. Hit up their net! Well, seems to me that's the way of all things. Someday I'll show you, Miss Nellie. Someday I aim to build me a shea that'll last a hundred years, because every part will be exactly as strong as the next. Will you take me riding into Deacon when it's done? I might do more than that, Miss Nellie. I might ask you to ride in it beside me for all your life and mine. Oh, Deacon! Listen, Miss Nellie, the church bells. Oh, Ned, hold there, boy! Oh, it's so lovely, the twilight, the chimes, and all the people gathering for prayer meeting. It sure is, Miss Nellie. Miss Nellie, shall we go into the prayer meeting? Thank you, Deacon. It was a beautiful prayer meeting, Deacon. Miss Nellie, may I reopen the subject we were discussing on the way to the church? Oh, what subject was that? Your life and mine, and the, uh, possibility that we might follow the same roadway together. Why, Deacon, am I to infer that... Because... Gee, Horsifax! Hold her, Ned! Now hold her steady, boy! Steady there! What happened? Sounds like the dad-blame-carrot-spring came loose. Oh, dear. Yep. Linchpin's sheared clean off. Can it be fixed? Well, what if it can? I don't want to drive a nailing-invited-patched-up shea. I swear I'll have me a carriage that can't break down. Deacon, you were saying before the accident... I was saying I'd build a finest one-horse shea that ever a man drove to a prayer meeting. Perhaps you will. But there's danger you'll drive in it alone. So the Deacon inquired of the village folk where he could find the strongest oak that couldn't be split nor bent nor broke. The crossbars, ash from the straightest trees, lasts like iron for things like these. Spring and axle bolt and screw steel of the finest, bright and blue. That was the way he put her through. There, by Jupiter. Now she'll do. Pull up there more. There, Miss Nelly. Would you be addressing me, Deacon? How would you like to go for a spin in the finest one-horse shea that was ever made by the hand of man? Well, I really do doubt if my husband would approve. Your husband? Does that mean, Miss Nelly, you're married? That's still the accepted method of getting a husband, isn't it, Deacon? Yes, but I thought that... You've thought of nothing but that one-horse shea for months on end. So when Silas Hodgkis offered, well... Oh. Well, I hope you'll be very happy, Miss Nelly, you and your Silas Hodgkis. And I hope you'll be very happy. You and your one-horse shea. Well, the time passed by, as time must do, and the Deacon discovered somebody new. A pretty miss, with hair like straw and the tiniest waist you ever saw. He gave her his name. But she never knew why their daughter had to be Nelly Sue. But I've got a notion why... Don't... Okay, all right now. Colts drew a lesson, spirits just dropped away. Two score years passed by and found the Deacons masterpiece strong and sound. Look smart, Blackie. We're driving to town. Hold on a minute, would you, ma'am? Uh, please? Whoa, Blackie! Whoa! Could I, uh... Could I trouble you for a lift into town? Do I seem like the kind of girl who'd pick up strange men off the roadside? Oh, I'm not a strange man. I'm Silas Hodgkis, Junior. See? Now you know who I am. Then I know who you are. Yes, sir, you're Nelly Sue, the Deacons' daughter. How'd you know? I'm recognized, you carriage. All that's fun to ride in this wonderful, one-horse shade. Well, I guess it's all right. Climb on up. Oh, she was. Thanks. Get up, Blackie! I said, get up, Blackie! Well, why don't you go? Supplies around his ears, ma'am. They make a horse ornery. Here, give me the reins. All right. Now shoot! Now, get up, Blackie! Let's go! Well, thank you, Silas. You're wonderful. You just got to understand horse language. That's the trick. Now, I could see, playing his daylight, what's his horseman saying to himself? You fly, don't bother me. You fly, don't bother me. You fly, don't bother me. Because I'm the spotter's horse can be. I'm the proudest horse that ever got mad on me. The reason is, of course, the wonderful, wonderful horses. Folks, I'll turn around someday. Whenever they hear the sound of the wonderful, wonderful horses. So shoot fly, don't bother me. Shoot fly, don't bother me. Shoot fly, don't bother me. Because here comes the wonderful, wonderful horses. Here comes the wonderful, wonderful horses. You certainly do understand horses, Silas. Oh, sure. I talk with horses all the time. Blacky, you know I was in love. In love? Wait a minute, ma'am. I'm talking to the horse. I'm not talking to you. Yes, sir, Blacky. I'm in love with the prettiest girl in the whole gosh-durn country. I bet you can't guess who that is. That's right, Blacky. Sitting right here in the seat beside me. Really now, Mr. Silas Hodgkiss? How can you tell me you're in love with me on such short acquaintance? I didn't tell you, Nelly Sue. I told your horse. Why is the most preposterous thing that I... No, it's not. No, it's not either. I've been watching you drive by for months, ma'am. I fell in love with you even before the corn came up this spring. And I'll tell you something else. You're in love with me. Well, I never. You may understand horses, Mr. Hodgkiss, but you've got a thing or two to learn about women, folks. No, I don't think so, ma'am. You just told me you're in love with me. I did no such thing. Oh, yes, you did. You told me plain as a day. I know my lips have never met your lips in sweetness. Your hand has never touched my hand with thrilling tenderness. You never spoke of love to me and still somehow I know for love has made me wondrous wise. Your eyes have told me so. Oh, your eyes, you're wonderful with love, light, and tenderness. Speak to speak. No more shall I seek for my heart has hurt me. In this moment, we'll return with act two of the wonderful One Horse Shade. Have you made your plans for next Saturday? Before you do, remember, next Saturday is Armed Forces Day, and at military bases throughout the country, you are invited to come and see for yourself some of the efficient new weapons and methods acquired by every member of the defense team. Although you may not realize it, America's railroads are an important member of the defense team. For just as you and I look to the railroads of the transportation needed to keep us supplied with all the good things of a prosperous peacetime economy, so our armed forces depend on the railroads to supply them with a vast quantity and variety of equipment they need to defend us. In World War II, for example, the railroads hauled more than 90% of all war freight and carried 97% of all organized military travel. Now, since the railroads are such an important member of our defense team, their ability to remain strong and healthy is a vital part of our present defense program. That's why you'll be reassured to learn that last year your railroads set a new record in efficiency as they handled more tons of freight per train than ever before. That achievement was built on the railroads' billion-dollar-a-year improvement program, under which the railroads have spent more than $9 billion since the end of World War II. The improved plant and equipment this expenditure has made possible are today a vital part of America's peacetime power. They are, in addition, an integral part of the Armed Forces' power for peace. And the railroads' ability to keep up this pace is essential to the stronger America toward which all of us are working. That's why each of us has a very real stake in the continued strength and health of our railroads, the nation's indispensable number one form of transportation for commerce and defense. Here's Act II of Lawrence and Lee's musical dramatization of a wonderful one-horse shea, starring Gordon MacRae and his guest Lucille Norman, each in triple roles, with Howard Culver as Oliver Wendell Holmes. For, according to a girl, the experts say there's nothing can equal a one-horse shea. If the stars are bright and the moon is low and the night is warm and the horse is slow, well, just remember I told you so. I was singing alley home. I was singing alley home. And the slum and diners twirling party, I was singing alley home. On my lips a whisper trembled, trembled till it dared to come. Miss Nellie Sue. Yes, Silas? Well, since your father Deacon has passed on, I couldn't rightfully get his consent for the question I'm about to ask you. Oh? But I was wondering, Nellie Sue, if you'd... Well, you know, if you'd... Hey, you and the one-horse shea! What's the matter? Are you breaking that song? Most certainly not. Why, this carriage can't break down. Ah, I bet the old thing won't even run. Well, it'll beat that donkey car to yorn. Silas, I don't want to race. Oh, I'll show you who's got the fastest shea. You're on. I'll race you to the common. Silas. All ready? On your mark. This is not your carriage, Silas. Get set. And I forbid you to go more than three miles an hour, Silas. Oh! Get on board! Get on board! Get on board! We won! We showed them our dust, Nellie Sue. Didn't you hear me expressly forbid you to race? Yes, but, uh... I could never give my hand in marriage to a man who was so inconsiderate of my wishes. But that fellow insulted the one-horse shea. My one-horse shea? And will you kindly get out of it? Nellie, don't you want I should see you home? I'll see myself home, thank you. Good night, Silas Hodgkis. Nellie! Hodgy whiz. Well, that was the start of another rift and another romance that just went piffed. Silas married Miranda Meeker and Nellie had many a bow to seeker, but she said I do to Horace Gray. And it rained a flood on their wedding day, but they didn't care as they drove away in the cozy, comfortable one-horse shea. They all got old, as people do. They all had children, quite a few. The Meeker's prettiest was Nell, named for a grandma, you could tell. And the deacons' wonderful one-horse shea became the carriage of Parson Gray. In church, he was mighty dignified, but mighty slow to get a bride. It's awfully nice of you to take me driving, Parson. The pleasure is all mine, Miss Nell. I find it most relaxing after reaching my sermon of the Sunday morning to take a drive on a Sunday afternoon. On a Sunday afternoon in the merry month of June Take a trip up the Hudson or golly to Coney or rock away. I do not approve at all of such foolish fowl to roam. They work hard on Monday but one day that's Sunday Sunday afternoon. On a Sunday afternoon in the merry month of June Take a trip up the Hudson or golly to Coney or rock away. On a Sunday afternoon you can see the lovers' boon. They work hard on Monday but one day that's Sunday Sunday afternoon. Tell me, Parson Gray, what do you do for fun? Fun? Oh, dear me, Miss Nell, I never allow myself to pursue frivolities. These Sunday afternoon drives are my only excursions into the area of the good time. Oh, these hoistless carriages, I think they should be kept off the road by law. Oh, I don't think so, Parson. I've been riding in Tom Newell's Bearcat and it's a lullapalooza. Please, Miss Nell, don't employ such heathen language in my presence. Why, Parson, there's nothing wrong with lullapalooza. Please! Does not help us along the road to perfection. Perfection? Is that the road you're on? Must all endeavor to be as nearly perfect as we can. Now, look at this carriage, Miss Nell. My sainted grandfather on my mother's side made up his mind that he wanted to make a perfect one-horse shea. And he did it. He did it. Look at it. This shea is 99 years old. On Sunday next, it'll be exactly a century old. Every part of it is exactly as perfect as the next part. That's why it can't break down. Everything perfect. How would you like to go riding with me next Sunday afternoon, Miss Nell, to celebrate the 100th birthday of the wonderful one-horse shea? Well, I don't think so, Parson. You and your shea are just a trifle more perfection than a girl can stand. Little of all we value here wakes on the morn of its hundredth year without both feeling and looking queer. In fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth so far as I know but a tree and truth. This is a moral that runs at large. Take it. You're welcome. No extra charge. The following Sunday, men might say that there were traces of age in the one-horse shea. But nothing local. The deacon's art had made it so like in every part that there wasn't a chance for one to start. Hit up! Said the Parson. Then stopped. At what the Moses was coming next. All at once the horse stood still close by the meeting house on the hill. First a shiver and then a thrill, then something decidedly like a spill. What do you think the Parson found when he got up and stared around? The poor old shea in a heap or mound as if it had been to the mill and ground. And so you see, if you're not a dunce, how it went to pieces all at once. All at once. And nothing first. Just as bubbles do when they burst. Miss Nell. The Parson Gray. I didn't expect you this Sunday. To tell you truthfully, Miss Nell, I've lost a little of my faith I understand now how it was you felt I might be a trifle over righteous. Why, Parson, what happened to your wonderful one-horse shea? It has been replaced, Miss Nell. Look. A Stanley steamer! I am about to take you for a drive you won't forget until our golden wedding day. Put on your old gray bonnet with the blue ribbon on it while the Stanley steamer chugs away and through the fields of clover we'll drive up to Dover on our golden wedding day. Put on your old gray bonnet with the blue ribbon on it while the Stanley steamer chugs away and through the fields of clover we'll drive up to Dover on our golden wedding day. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. The sparkling Lucio Loma will return in just one moment. Meanwhile, our hearty thanks to Howard Culver, but Tollison, Bill Brownell, our two sound men, and to our entire company. The wonderful one-horse shea, based on the famous poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes, was dramatized for the railroad hour by Lawrence and Lee. The hour is brought to you each week at the same time by the American Railroads. Marvin? Anyone visiting a military installation on Armed Forces Day next Saturday is bound to be impressed by the new and greatly improved equipment and facilities our government has put into the hands of our fighting men. Also essential to our defense effort are the tremendous improvements made in our vital railroad system since the end of World War II. One important difference, however, is that every dollar of the more than $9 billion spent to improve our railroads has been railroad money. That's why financially sound and healthy railroads are vital, not only to our commerce, but also to our national defense. Thank you, Marvin, and now folks here again is our lovely guest, Lucio Lawman. Ah, this was wonderful fun, Gordon. Where is the show train going next week? We're going clean around the world in 80 days, Lucy. Thanks to Mr. Jules Verne, who wrote our story. I'll be the punctilious Mr. Phineas Fogg, and I guess who you're going to be. I'm afraid to guess. Well, here's a little hint. You're going to be the Indian princess that I rescue on my way around the world. Sounds like fun, Gordon. I'll have pale hands just for the occasion. Good night, Lucy. As always, you were wonderful. All aboard! Well, dear friends, it looks as though we're ready to pull out. And so until next Monday night, and around the world in 80 days, on behalf of the other members of the cast and of the American Railroads, it's your friend Gordon McRae saying good night. Our choir is under the direction of Norman Luboff, and our music is prepared and conducted by Carmen Dragon. This is Marvin Miller saying good night until next week for the American Railroads, and reminding you, at least a quarter of a million Americans suffer from the mysterious and crippling disease multiple sclerosis. Its cause and cure are presently unknown, but increased medical research offers hope for finding the key to the mystery. Won't you help by supporting the National Multiple Sclerosis Society? Now, stay tuned for your Monday night of music on NBC. The Voice of Firestone features Risa Stevens on the end.