 suspense, and the producer of radios, outstanding theatre of thrills, the master of mystery and adventure, William M. Robeson. One of the axioms of drama might be summed up in the words, don't cheat the audience. Yet one of the most famous short stories of the century, the lady of the tiger, does just that. No, we are not about to bring you that famous masterpiece, but the story we are going to tell, in addition to being well-calculated to keep you in suspense, is also guaranteed to start a lot of arguments, none of which we hope will become too serious. Frankly, we don't know whether Sophronia Winters or Hiram Johnson is telling the truth, and whether one or both of them are crazy, but there's one point at which we can all agree, Sophronia's diary makes mighty thrilling reading. Listen, listen then, as Miss Moussides or Cambridge stars in The Diary of Sophronia Winters, which begins in just a moment. Another visit with Joe and Daphne Forsythe. Hey honey, I'm home. Daphne. Drop dead. Uh-oh, what's the matter honey? Don't you stick to me, you, you Don Juan. Don Juan? Daphne, I'm no Don Juan. No, no how about S'Punol? Very funny, hahaha! Well, it was no prize, one sharpeit. Neither are you, you, you lethario. I've often wondered what's a lethario? I don't know, but that's what the wives on TV always call their husbands, I guess it applies. You want me to go out and come in again? As far as I'm concerned, you can go for a long walk. Preferably, on a short pier. Well, come on, Daphne, what's wrong? You're a good friend Harry called and he stole the beans. Which beans? He said, quote, tell Joey he was right about those blondes. They're great, unquote. Blondes? That's what he said. Well... He didn't say blondes. He said blondes. Savings blondes. What? Sure. I buy them on the payroll savings plan. And I told Harry he ought to do it too. Savings blondes have a guaranteed interest that pays back $4 for every three. Which is a pretty good investment. That's a pretty good story too. It's true, so help me. That's why Harry's so happy. Savings blondes are great. Well... Maybe you're right. You would really fool around with blondes, would you? You're too fateful and sweet. Kind and... Fast talking. And now... Diary of Sophronia Winters starring Mercedes-McCainbridge. A tale well calculated to keep you in... Suspense. February 1st, St. Petersburg, Florida. I, Sophronia Winters, have hereby begun this diary. Because on this date I feel... For the first time in my 60 years... That I have begun to live. It happened this morning. I had just settled myself on the beach... When I noticed a man... A thrilling looking man... Strolling toward me. Well, uh, sitting out here all by yourself? Well, yes. Yes, I am. Didn't I see you last night over at the Starfish Tea Room? The Starfish Tea Room? Oh, yes. Yes, I was there yesterday. Oh, I said it might be a good table over there. Mind if I sit down beside you? Not at all. Oh, just a minute. Sit on this magazine. This sand sticks to your clothes. Oh, sand, don't bother me. Johnson's name, Hiram Johnson, comes from Green Harbor, Maine, on a big hotel up there, Summers. That's my whole history in a nutshell. My name is Sophronia. Sophronia Winters. Sophronia? You know that's quite co-incidence. My sister-in-law's name is Sophronia. Sophronia Johnson. You ever heard of her? She looked quite a bit like you. Sophronia Johnson? No, I'm afraid I haven't. Who was she, someone very famous? I'm so ignorant about the history. No, Sophronia wasn't very famous up in the state of Maine for a while, some time back. Well, look what that sun climbed to. I'd say it was close to lunchtime and I'm going on a hunger strike unless you have lunch with me. Oh. Dear, dear diary, now I know what they mean by the young in heart. There is indeed a boy for every girl in the world and I have found mine. He is so kind and so generous and so strong and I am so weak because I want to be. Oh, what's the good of waiting, Sophronia? I gotta be back to the hotel in a week. We may never see each other again. Oh, Hiram, don't say that. I couldn't bear it. Then let's do it right away, tomorrow. There's a person out on Coral Avenue who will do the job first and we can take a nice moonlight drive out the alligator farm afterwards and have a nice short dinner. Then climb on board the orange boss and tomorrow night for Maine. Oh, but what would your family think? Wouldn't they be shocked? Family's all dead, I'm my own boss. Now just be the two of us alone together. The two of us. Alone. Together. The two of us alone together. But, dear diary, not exactly as I had imagined it, our wedding trip north on the Orange Blossom Express was all that I could have dreamed of. But now, now we are at the end of the journey, looming in front of us in the deepening winter twilight is a huge resort hotel, Hyrum's Hotel. It's wide baranda empty. It's ancient cupolas menacing against the grey sky. And not a single light burning at any of its hundreds of windows. What are you locking the gate for, Hyrum? Why not? Nobody coming in after us or going out again for a while. But I thought you said the hotel. The hotel is empty. Hyrum. Well, what is it now? Hyrum, darling, I know it sounds silly, but let's not go in there tonight. It's so dark and empty. Let's wait until morning. Let's stay in the village just for tonight. We'll stay in here. Now, get inside. Oh, my arm, Hyrum. You remember me telling you down in Florida about my sister-in-law, Saphonia? Yes. Well, that's her. That painting there on the wall. Now, you take a look at her. Good look. But why? She was a murderer. She was hanged in Portland 25 years ago for the murder of my brother, Hyrum. He earned the lobby of this hotel. He come downstairs singing a hymn and murdered him in cold blood with an axe. That's why her axe hanging over there on the wall. Oh, horrible. Yeah. Now, you stand over there under that painting. Hyrum, I... Get over there. Hyrum, please, you're hurting me. Now, you stand there quietly. Now, you remember I said you resembled my dead sister-in-law? Well, you do. You are a spitting image. You were the second act of... suspense. In what form can an act of military heroism be acknowledged? In one example, the form is a rectangular blue ribbon set in a gold-colored metal frame of laurel leaves worn centered over the right breast pocket of the uniform. A bronze oak leaf cluster may be affixed to the ribbon for each subsequent award of the same decoration. This is the emblem of the distinguished unit citation awarded to units of our armed forces and those of our allies for extraordinary heroism in action against an armed enemy. One of America's newer military decorations, it is designated to recognize activity on or after December 7, 1941. The distinguished unit campaign streamer is blue with the name of the cited action embroidered in white. To be eligible for this citation, the degree of heroism required is the same as that which, in an individual, would warrant the presentation of our second highest award for valor, the Distinguished Service Cross. The distinguished unit emblem may be worn permanently by all those involved in the cited action, but for those individuals joining the unit later, the emblem may be worn only for the duration of their assignment. Both as individuals and as members of military units, America's servicemen have proved themselves worthy of medals and worthy of admiration by their countrymen. And now, starting Mercedes McCambridge, packed to love the diary of Sophronia Winters. I cannot understand it, and my heart is heavy. The hotel is deserted, unchanged and apparently uninhabited for 25 years. Wash bowls and pictures still stand in the empty rooms covered with cobwebs. The great dining room with its oak woodwork is alive with rats, and a row of broken rocking chairs on the front porch faces emptyly out to sea. Does he mean this to be my home? And now, Madea, let me show you the grounds. Oh, but it's dark. I want to show you where my sister-in-law Sophronia's buried. Can't I see it tomorrow, in the daylight? You'll see it now, Sophronia. Hiram, you're hurting me. I'm sorry, Madea, but you must learn to do what I say, and then we shall have no trouble. Just yonder on that mound. I had to whom my sister-in-law Sophronia was laid away 25 years ago. Buried her ourselves, without a service, out here by herself on the grounds. Ethan's buried in town, but not Sophronia. I had a feeling I'd have to keep an eye on her. Keep an eye on her? I knew she was one of those restless sleepers who lay quiet in a grave. You mean you think she haunts this place? Nope, not this place. She never had any use for it. Live or dead. No, she makes for the warmer climates. She was always a cold-blooded little woman, freezing and shivering all the time. Places like California and Texas and Florida, she makes fun. Florida's good. One of her favorite haunts, particularly around St. Petersburg, she likes the flowers and the sun and the romance. Hiram, I feel cold. I'm shivering. Do you mind if I go inside now? In a minute. I haven't explained everything. You see those birches over there? Under every one of them's a grave. See, I found her wandering the Earth in disguise three times. I killed her three times. Still don't do any good. She's still restless. You mean you killed three different women? Yep. Now I keep another grave open. Reminder, waitin' now. Would you like to see it, Sopronia? Oh, no, no, Hiram, no, please, I... Are you afraid to see it, Sopronia? No, I... Oh, Hiram, you don't think just because my name happens to be Sopronia and that I look a little like... Think what, Sopronia? Nothing. Well, I... Well, we mustn't have you catchin' a cold, my dear. When you come back along in the hotel, I'll show you to your room. Why? Room? Yes, Sopronia. Your room. Now this room's cleanest in the hotel. Always expected to be occupied again sometime. There you see. Kept everything just as it was. What's the matter? Nothing. It's just that... Seem kinda familiar? No, no. Just as she left at that afternoon, she walked downstairs to murder my brother. See her embroidery on the table, needle sticking in it. Her hem box still open. She was very fond of singin' hymns, Sopronia was. Had a nice voice, too. I used to accompany her on the harmonium down the parlor. Oh. Well, I'll turn down the bed for you. And you can get undressed while I go and make you some hot tea. No, I don't want any. Oh, there's a closet. You can put on one of Sopronia's dressing gowns, make yourself at home. I... Why are you locking my door? It's safer, my dear. Safer? Always locked doors, outside and inside. Windows, too. Much safer for everybody. It must be nearly midnight now. I don't know... I don't know how long it's been since she locked that door on me and left me alone in this horrible room with its hideous little mementos of a dead murderous. I have lit the pink-flowered oil lamp and I am sitting here at her little wicker table trying to maintain my sanity as I write this. I can hear him downstairs in the shabby little parlor off the lobby playing the harmonium, playing the same piece over and over again. My hand has just brushed against her needlework lying beside the open hymn book open at the same hymn he is playing. The same hymn he is playing. I shuckle mad. I shuckle mad. I shuckle mad. In a moment, we continue with the third act of... suspense. We have together ample capacity and freedom to defend freedom. This is NATO, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. Day after day, month after month, since April 4th, 1949, the activities of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization have moved steadily forward on many fronts. This complete cooperation must and will continue because the concept of national self-sufficiency is out of date. Countries of the free world are interdependent and only in genuine partnership and by combining their resources, sharing tasks in many fields and progress and safety be found. The United States of America is a part of NATO. You should be aware of and alert to the objectives and programs of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. And now, starring Mercedes McCambridge, act three of the Diary of Sophronia Winters. February 12th. Can it be only a week since I became the bride of a mad man? Now I live only from moment to moment, listening to each creek on the stairs. Each note visits slowly wheezes from the old harmonium, wondering when he will come for me, when he will drag me out to join those other Sophronias in their frosty graves beneath the naked verges. Sophronia! It's come. Sophronia! Come downstairs. Watch her sing with me. Sing, sing. She sang with him, he said. How? How can I come downstairs when my door is locked? It's unlocked. You try it. Unlocked? Oh no, how could it? Oh it is, it is. And I never knew it. I never knew it. Come in, Sophronia. He unlocked it sometime while I was just sitting there. Oh, why didn't I try a few more times? Why did I just sit there assuming? No. No, he'd have caught me anyway. He'd have known. But I might have got away. It's always too late. He's going to kill me. Sophronia! Yes, Hiram. I'm coming. Hiram. Where are you? Down here in the parlor. That's the harmonium? Yeah. Waiting to sing with you. All right. I'll sing. I haven't sung in years, but I'll try. I'll sing with you. I'll stay out here in the hall. My voice will carry better. Always did carry better in the hall, didn't it, Sophronia? Of course you know. Both the front and back doors a lot. Yes, I know, Hiram. All right. There's only one more page and shall I read it to you, Miss? Yes. Yes, go ahead. March 22nd. I have been sick, I think, for a very long time. The pages of my diary are blank, but I shall take you out again for a diary today and start you over again. I shall never look back for other pages. I shall only write on and on about this beautiful place so that no one reading this diary will ever know that I did it. Diaries. I was smarter than he. When I opened that door at the head of the stairs and heard the music, the fireworks still hanging on the wall. Oh, I was so cautious, so terribly cautious. I dipped out like a little mouse, even as I sang the hymn into that room where he was playing. If a reflection of that axe had so much as glibbered across the wood, it even turned. But I was clever, so much cleverer than he. I stepped on singing, and now I'm free. Free the bird. I'm free, and he shall never catch me now, not this time or ever again. Because he's dead. Isn't he dead? Yes. Isn't my dear brother-in-law Highland really dead? Yes, Mr. Frohler, he's dead. And now we'll put the diary away, shall we? Remember what the doctor said. We mustn't overdo with where to get well. Oh, but I don't want to get well. Ever. I like being sick. I feel so safe. Suspense. In which Mercedes McCambridge starred in William M. Robeson's production of The Diary of Sopronia Winters by Lucille Fletcher. Supporting Mercedes McCambridge in The Diary of Sopronia Winters were Carl Swenson and Ellen Morgan. Listen. Listen again next week when we return with Miss Kathy Lewis starring in The Bridge. Another tale well calculated to keep you in... suspense.