 Remember a Hallmark card when you carry enough to send the very best. Tonight on our Hallmark Playhouse we present a dramatization of a copyrighted story called The Third Ingredient, written by one of America's most versatile writers of fiction, William Sidney Porter, who gave himself the name O'Henry. O'Henry, who died 40 years ago when he was a comparatively young man, had the knack of writing short stories which somebody once said were rather like a cigarette case. Each one had a highly polished surface and closed with a snap. O'Henry himself would probably have enjoyed the remark. Anyhow, we tell you this kind of story tonight. It's charming and bittersweet in the typical O'Henry mood and not to be taken too seriously. I think you'll enjoy it and I think you'll also agree that we couldn't have chosen better for our leading role than their delightful young Hollywood actress and an old favorite of ours on the Hallmark Playhouse and Blythe. And now a word about Hallmark cards from Frank Goss before we begin the first act of The Third Ingredient. At Christmas, as on every memorable occasion, you'll take special pride in sending Hallmark cards because just as for hundreds of years the word Hallmark has been the distinguishing symbol of quality. So today the Hallmark on the back of your greeting cards is your assurance of finest quality and perfect taste. It's a symbol of quality. All who receive your cards will quickly recognize and realize you cared enough to send the very best. Now Hallmark Playhouse, presenting O'Henry's The Third Ingredient, starring Anne Blythe. In the days when if you had a car you were rich. Take a walk down the teeming snow-touched streets on a December day, past the brownstone houses, past the shop girls hurrying home from work, past the push-carts and the kids playing ollie ollie in free. Criss-cross this island other rivers, black and swirling with their ferry boats and tooting tugs calling to each other in the dusk. And everywhere in O'Henry's New York you find the unexpected, the surprise, the whirligigs of life. Aboard the Jersey to Manhattan ferry boat a girl stands at the heavy chain rail. The drops of water on her face are not melted snow but tears and her eyes are on the deepness of the river. I beg your pardon. It's one of my weaknesses that I can't stand seeing a beautiful girl with tears in her eyes. Thank you, but I'm really quite all right. Anything I can do to help? No. It's very nice of you to be so kind. When it goes, tired or unhappy, kindness counts more than anything else. Hey, look. Look. The stars are just coming out. Starlight and snowflakes. Sometimes when you're looking at the river it's hard to tell whether the stars are way up there in the sky or way down there in the water. Oh, they're in the sky all right. Look, did you see that one? Up there? He's a twinkler. I call him Mr. Abernathy. He's a very unsteady type personality. Blicking around the skies if every night were New Year's Eve. You make the stars seem so friendly. Oh, that's it. That's it. That's what I like to see in a pretty girl's face. A nice smile. Oh, there is a fat, steady star. You put her probably. But I think of him as Mr. Bumblechuck, who ate too much for dinner. He's in the electric light business. He likes to advertise. He makes all the other stars look dim as if they hadn't paid their light bills. Oh, please. Please go away. I know you're trying to be kind, but I think it's better if I just stand here alone. Please. Hey, what happened to the smile? I can't explain. I feel miserable and I don't want to make you feel miserable, too. Sure, sure. But remember, Mr. Abernathy and Mr. Bumblechuck and I will be around if you need us. There's really enough water in the river, you know. Oh, don't make jokes, please. It's no use. It's just no use at all. If I step over this chain and take two steps, it'll be all over. And if I keep my eyes on the stars and Mr. Abernathy and Mr. Bumblechuck, why, the river won't look so cold. Arms inside. I had a girl. Yes, what happened here? I can explain it, Captain. I saw it all. This young lady dropped her purse on the edge of the boat. What? And when she leaned over to get it, she lost her footing and fell in. You both all right? I guess so. We'll be pulling into Manhattan in a minute. Get inside and get yourselves dry. Good rescue land. Why did you say it was an accident? I did it on purpose. I wanted to do it. Did you? So close to Christmas. You shouldn't have jumped in after me, no matter what. You might have drowned yourself. Do you know that you're very beautiful with a Hudson River in your hair? Well, how can you say that? I'm a terrible side-hole, sopping wet and my hair dripping. Yeah, well, look at me. I'm something about drip myself. I don't know how I can laugh at a time like this, but you've made me laugh. Ah, lovely wet laugh. Come on, come on inside. Well, we'll dry out everything but the laugh. This young lady, any place she wants to go, and it's your money. Yes, sir. You shouldn't be doing this, really. You shouldn't. You've done enough for me already. There's one thing you can do for me. Will you tell me your name? I can't. I just can't. Oh, will you give me a hint? What do you do? What do you work? I'm so grateful to you for everything, but I'm too ashamed. All right, but I'll find you somehow. I'm going to claim my rights of salvage. Why? Where to, lady? The Val and Bruce apartment house on 10th Avenue, 346. It's really not an apartment house at all. They just call it that. It's a brownstone walk-up. You'll know it right away. It's the faded, funny one. Look at that faucet. This place advertises running water, but just between you and me and the water meter, it only crawls through the faucets. I'll be through peeling these potatoes in just a minute. What are you doing to them? I suppose I am wasting a lot. Give me that knife a second. I'll show you. You've got to scrape them. You'll lose out if you peel them. Oh, I always thought they had to be peeled. Now, there. You're the young lady who lives on the top floor, aren't you? Thanks. That's the first time anybody's called me either young or a lady in a long time. Eddie Peppers, my name. My name's Cecilia Foster. I've seen you here at the sink before. Oh, the sink. The exalted meeting place of the Val and Bruce apartment house. Grand Central Station. I guess everybody in this place meets here to dump their coffee grounds and to stare at each other's kimonos. Oh, finished. There are your potatoes. Oh, thanks very much. Oh, and you've only got potatoes to eat every little bit counts. And I was hacking them up. Hold everything, Cecilia. Hold everything, Cecilia. Hold everything, Cecilia. Hold everything, Cecilia. Hold everything, Cecilia. Hold everything, Cecilia. Hold everything, Cecilia. Hold everything, Cecilia. You ain't up against it too, are you, kid? I suppose I am. Art work doesn't seem to be much in demand. Oh, yeah. The landlady did say we had an artist in the house. She said you paid a miniaturist. Yeah, that's it. I don't know what that is exactly, but I know it's not a house. House painters eat more than two scraped potatoes. Oh, if it weren't for these potatoes, I'd go hungry tonight. Oh, Cecilia, I've had it handed to me in the neck, too. I lost my job at the shop today. Ladies' waste department. Oh, I'm awfully sorry. Well, don't be sorry. Be glad we bumped into each other. You see, I spent every e-pluribus unum in my pocketbook for a nice piece of beef because there's nothing in the world I like better than beef stew. But I got home and found no potatoes and no onions. Now, what kind of a beef stew can you make out of just beef? Well, you can make oyster soup without oysters and turtle soup without turtles. And coffee cake without coffee, I know. But you can't make beef stew without potatoes and onions. Oh, I haven't any onions. Just these potatoes. We're on our way. Let's you and me bunch our commissary department, honey. Oh, beef stew. Oh, it's always been my favorite, too. All the parts are good by themselves, but oh, you put them together and they're not just three times as good, but ten times as good. Oh, here's a girl who really appreciates true art. Fellow beef stew lover, shake hands. You know, it's all kind of like melodies. The beef, solid and pompous, like a fine English gentleman. An Irish leprechaun, bobbin in the saucepan like an elf in Kilarney. Honey, they're the hearts. Oh, they're the fiddles. Pitsick your symphony. Or if I had a few pennies, I'd run down to Giuseppe's stand and buy an onion. But I spent my last nickel on the ferry boat. Oh, it's a shame. A stew without an onion is worse than a matinee without candy. Honey, what are you looking through the skylight for? Tell me something. Can you ever see the stars from here? You can see them when the lights are out. Then this place is just like the bottom of a well. Would you turn them out for just a minute? Oh, sure. The meat and potatoes still have a long way to go. Look, there they are. Mr. Abernathy and Mr. Bumblechook. Mr. Who and Mr. Who? Abernathy and Bumblechook. Friends of yours? Oh, yes, yes. Look, that one and that one, the twinkler and the fat one. Oh, you mean the stars. I didn't get you at first, kid. When you see stars like that early in the evening, close your eyes and make a wish. Well, I got a wish, Mr. Bumblechook, that you bring him. The second act of the third ingredient, starring Anne Blythe. Many Christmases ago, we started giving all the youngsters in our neighborhood a little remembrance. Well, what with the growth of the neighborhood and the growth of the children, our list grew to 10 or 12 boys and girls of all ages. You can imagine how difficult it was to see that each one received an equal gift, until we found the magic money tree card made by Hallmark. It's the perfect answer. Now each little Jimmy and Johnny, each genie and Jane, receives the same. And the biggest thrill of all seems to be that the card comes in the mail, just like Mother and Daddy's Christmas cards. You remember that thrill, don't you? The first Christmas card addressed to you? Well, here's a card and a present rolled into one. On the outside is a dazzling Christmas tree. It's bright green branches hung with tinsel. For extra magic, you decorate the tree with 10 silver dimes. Just put the dimes and gum circles on the branches and they look like silver bells. The verse inside the card says, Money doesn't grow on trees. That's almost always true. But here's a magic Christmas tree that's growing dimes for you. Merry Christmas. Can you think of a nicer Christmas present for the little folks on your list? You'll find the magic Money Tree card made only by Hallmark on the display counters of fine stores everywhere. And it, too, has that distinguished Hallmark on the back, which says, you cared enough to send the very best. Now back to James Hilton and the second act of the third ingredient, starring Anne Blythe. Into the river, and there are also moments when things seem brighter, when, for example, a beast's jewel is bubbling on the gas plate. Of course, if one only had... Well, lights on again? Sure. Hey. What's the matter? Why the tears, Cecilia? Oh, I wasn't crying. Oh, Mr. White. Oh, Aunt Heady knows. Aunt Heady was young once, too. Come on, now tell me. The minute you mentioned the ferry boat, you got a Long Island fog in each one of those big brown eyes. No. You met him on a ferry boat, didn't you, honey? I'd better not talk about it. Oh, help yourself. Like I always say, I'm a shoulder. You can cry on me any time you like. You know, some people are hands, some people are feet, some people are backs for burdens, but Aunt Heady here, I'm a shoulder. So if you want to use me, go ahead. Oh, Heady, it did all happen on the ferry boat. I was coming back from Jersey City. Oh, Mr. Shrum, an art dealer, told me about a rich man in Newark who wanted a miniature of his daughter painted. I went to see him and showed him some of my work, and when I told him the price would be $50, he laughed at me. Why, the dirty bum? He said, who would pay any money for a little tiny thing like a miniature? He could get one 20 times that size for $8. Well, I told him I'd do it for that even less. But then he said he didn't like my little puny pictures. Oh, some people ain't got no taste, a sensitivity whatsoever. I had just enough money to buy my ferry ticket back to New York. I felt as if I didn't want to live another day. I must have looked the way I felt because he came up to me and talked to me, asked me why I was crying. A masher, huh? Oh, nothing like that. Good looking. Yes, but better than that, kind and whizzy and warm. I told him to go away, I begged him to go, and finally he did. Oh, baby, you need lessons. You never say go away to a man like that. Well, when I was all alone, I got so miserable, I slipped over the rail and dropped into the water. Oh, no. Oh, Eddie, it was cold. And then he jumped in to save me. Oh, you know, the minute you mentioned him, I knew he was the hero type. Oh, Eddie, I was so ashamed of myself. I wonder if some nice handsome fellow would ever jump in the river and rescue me. Of course he would, Eddie. Well, I ain't gonna try it. With this face of mine, I don't know if a fellow would pull out the plug if I was drowning in the bathtub. Oh, Eddie. So that's how it all began, huh? No, that's how it all ended. Why, you gave him your name and address, didn't you? No, he begged me to, but I wouldn't tell him. Oh, you were a fool, child. It's been three days and he hasn't found me yet. Oh, well, give him more time. This is a big town. Think how many girls he might have to see soaked in water with their hair down before he'd recognize you. Tell me, Eddie, do you think it's all right to be just terribly rich? This hero boyfriend of yours? You think he's a regular moneybag? Well, after he left me, I saw him get into a big black limousine and a chauffeur held the door for him. And you wouldn't give him your name and address? Uh-oh. The stew is gonna boil dry. Give me the pitcher, Eddie. I'll go out to the sink and get some water. No, no, you've had enough water in your young life. I'll go. You just wait here. Can I have a chat with your Mr. Abernassy and Bumblechook? Can't guess what I just saw out in the hall. And attached. I asked them both if they wouldn't like to join us for potluck. I acted just as sweet as I could. But I got turned down. You're so pretty. Honey, maybe you could swing it. Why don't you go out and make it? Oh, no, no. I don't want to see any man now, except... It ain't him, honey. We're up against real life now. This ain't your hero, fella. I believe you said he had automobiles and chauffeurs. Well, this here is a poor schizix that's got nothing to eat but an onion. Does he live here in the Balambrosa? No, he told me he stopped by to see that writer fellow who lives second floor back. Jack Bevin? He's the hungriest-looking person I've ever seen. Take it from me. All writers are hungry-looking. But this fellow is so far gone, he even looks hungrier than a writer, if that's possible. And he has nothing deep but an onion. Oh, Eddie, that's awful. It's hard to believe, but he sounds as if he's worse off than we are. At least we've got meat and potatoes. Yeah, it's too bad. He talks like he might have been a gentleman once, but he's mighty low down now. Well, we've got to share our dinner with him, Eddie. We have enough for three. Is he still outside in the hall? Why don't you go look? Hello? There's nobody out there in the hall. Oh, to think there was an onion with two legs on it right there in the hall, and it walked away. I suppose he was so miserable, he just wanted to be alone. Yeah, maybe so. But I'll bet that onion would have had a high old time with our meat and potatoes. Here, take my apron. Why? We can go on out there and find him. Well, this is a sale you couldn't find. You're hiding way over here by the window. I have not been hiding. I was... You catch cold? I already have one. Um, what are you going to do with that onion? I am going to eat it. If all you've got to eat is an onion, how come you lean out of windows and give orders to chauffeurs in black automobiles in the street below? Because, madam, I pay the chauffeurs' wages and I own the automobile. Put the onion! My mother always made me eat one for a cold. I intend to eat this onion and go to bed, which I should have done three days ago instead of chasing up and down Manhattan Island. Good night, madam. Wait a minute! What possible business is it of yours? Young man, don't you move one step until you tell me how did you catch this cold? Woman, I jumped off a ferry boat and went swimming in the Hudson River. Now, does that answer your question? It does. I said push open that door. Potatoes is waiting in there. Potatoes? Go on in, onion. What the blazes? Hello. You're the onion? Yeah. Yeah, can I be part of your beef stew? Oh, it's the strangest thing. I've heard of people meeting by moonlit lakes or by the trellis in a rose garden or on mountain tops at dawn. But who ever heard of two people finding each other over a saucepan full of meat and potatoes? Plus an onion, madam. Don't forget the onion. Oh, that's what gives it the song. You know, for three days, I've been carrying a picture of you around inside my head. But it wasn't a very good likeness. You're much more beautiful. I was afraid I'd never see you again. You'll never stop seeing me if I can help it. I thought it was only in the story books that the prince comes riding up in his shiny limousine. I guess we ought to thank your friends upstairs. Jack Bevin's? How did you know he loaned me this onion? Oh, no. No, not him. Turn out the light and you can see them. There. There they are. Mr. Abinethy and Mr. Bumblechook. They've been watching out for us, I'm sure. I think they cooked up the whole thing. I bet they did. Thank you, Mr. Abinethy. Thank you, Mr. Bumblechook. A couple of stars named Mr. Abinethy and Mr. Bumblechook seem to be shining more brightly than ever, lighting up the whole sky with their smiles. Magic money-free card. Take a look at the other special hallmark cards. There are ones for mother, dad, sister, brother, even ones for Aunt Maddie, Uncle Ebner, and cousin Lou. You'll find hallmark cards that say Merry Christmas to the boss, to the minister, to teacher, all the others you'd like to remember in a special way. There are also other items made by Hallmark that add a special happy touch to Christmas. I'm speaking of gift wrappings. Paper, ribbon, seals, and tags that are all specially designed to go together can make your gifts the ones everyone wants to open first. There's a wide selection, or will be if you hurry, at fine stores everywhere. And you know these hallmark papers are styled by artists who really know how to express whimsy and fantasy in color and design. They, like hallmark cards, are the first choice of folks who want the very best. Here again is James Hilton. You know, Anne, if you can really make a beef stew as detectable as you made the character of Cecilia for us tonight, won't you invite me over for dinner sometime, please? I certainly will, Mr. Hilton. Why not for the holidays? Well, by the way, I have just selected my Christmas cards for this year, and I was very impressed with the work of Hallmark's famous artist, Grandma Moses. I think her Christmas card paintings are really beautiful. Well, since you're a Grandma Moses, admire Anne, you'll no doubt be interested in reading the article about her, which will appear in the December 10th issue of Parade Magazine. It tells the whole story of her remarkable career. Oh, look for it next Sunday. Now tell me, what have you planned for next week, Mr. Hilton? Next week on the Hallmark Playhouse, we shall present The Promise by Mildred Cram, a compelling love story of a young couple who rediscovered their faith on a Christmas Eve. And as our star, we are happy to welcome back our very good friend, Robert Young. Our Hallmark Playhouse is every Thursday, our director-producer is Bill Gay, our music is composed and conducted by Lynn Murray, and our story tonight was dramatized by Lowlands and Lee. Until next Thursday then, this is James Hilton saying, Good night. A universal international picture co-starring Mark Stevens. This is Frank Goss saying good night to you all until next week at this same time, when James Hilton returns to present Robert Young in Mildred Cram's The Promise. Next week, our special Christmas presentation, Hair to Pauly, is the story of Silent Night. And the week after that, Ann Barley's Patrick calls me mother on the Hallmark Playhouse. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. This is KMBC, Kansas City, Missouri.