 The Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont's Better Living through Chemistry. Tonight we bring you a radio portrait of Annie Oakley and the legend of her crack marksmanship, which to the men and women of her era became their national prize. And to us, one of America's fondest memories. To portray the role of Annie Oakley, we present Agnes Moorhead of the Cavalcade Players. The orchestra and the original musical score are under the direction of Don Buries. DuPont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry, presents Agnes Moorhead as Annie Oakley on the Cavalcade of America. Mountie, Ohio, the year 1874. The clearing before a log cabin in a wooded valley. Hold your fire minute. Someone's coming out of the timber there. What's your gal, Ma? All done up in shooting gear. How do you miss Annie Oakley now, ma'am? I took Ma Ma's name after Pa died and she went away. Then I'll shoot myself some supper. Nothing to shoot in these parts, except in that chicken hawk up there. Trying for a week to bring him down. That ain't so high. Stand back so I can swing, will ya? Bang. You got him. With one shot. Wish getting game was as easy as that. Game? Help me get this kid on down, Mr. Shaw. Sure. Here you are, ma'am. You're welcome to him. I shot him on your property. Tomorrow I'll scare up some quail if you'd like him to. Say, Annie, why don't you stay a spell with us? Well, I'm not much good around the house, ma'am. Ah, don't you worry your head over that, Annie. Just you get the game. I'll cook it. Joe. Yes, ma'am? Annie can't do her best shooting with this rusty old gunner hern. How about you trading yours for it? Well, I guess so, ma'am. Ah, I hate to take your new gun, Mr. Shaw. The Lord himself sent you to us, Annie Oakley. I'm not one to slow up the Lord's work. Neither is my husband. I got my reasons, Elmer. They're fixing to run a stagecoach past our house straight to Cincinnati. Well, what's that got to do with us, Annie? Hotels in Cincinnati are buying game as much as they can get. Well, I don't see why... I don't want to help Mr. and Mrs. Shaw pay the mortgage on this place before I move on. Annie, listen. I'm getting a part interest in the general store over at the forks, and railroad's coming through that way pretty soon, and I was thinking... Well, why don't you marry me? Because... Well, we just don't think alike, Elmer. Maybe I'll never find a man that thinks the way I do. But if I do, there won't be any doubt in the mind. That'll be the man. A few little shooting mats, huh, Mr. Butler? Yeah, there must be expected to see something from one of us. Say, who's that girl over there? Oh, that's Annie Oakley. When you're going to shoot again. What? Oh, Mrs. Shaw, Annie. Morning, Mr. Butler. How do, Mr. Butler. Frank Butler, the man you're going to shoot against, Annie. Pleased to meet you, ladies. Same to you. Likewise. Well, I hear you're quite a crack shot, Mrs. Oakley. Haven't Mr. Burton quite a while to tell you the truth, Mr. Butler. Hmm. Did you know that Mr. Butler here put up $100 on you? I told him that he should put up more, but he said that was enough. Said you were pretty good, too. I see. Well, well, if you folks are ready, we might as well begin. You understand the rules, Annie. I reckon I do. You'll fire by turn, 25 rounds. When you say pull, the bird will be released. If you hit the referee, he'll holler dead. If you miss, he'll holler lost. That's your understanding, Mr. Butler? That's right. Yeah. All right, I'll just say a word to the crowd here. Now, ladies and gentlemen, the contest is about to begin. A match of 25 rounds. On the left, that sensational young marksman of the professional team of Butler & Company, Frank E. Butler. Yeah! I've known to some of you, but unknown to most, Annie Oakley. Pretty things, ain't there? Those holes in them four. Oh, that's just to show they're complimentary, free of charge. Oh. I thought there was bullet holes. No, no. They're just punch holes. Not bullet holes, not Annie Oakley. Sure you'll come? I've never been in a real theater before, Mr. Butler. I wouldn't miss it for all the look. Come on. Isn't he cute? Mr. Butler, man. Right over here. Hey, Mr. Butler. Hey, Mr. Butler. Yeah, I know he does, Miss Annie. I wish I could see him again sometime. I suppose you're going on to another town now. Yeah, I'm afraid so. I'll tell you what we could do. George could write to you once in a while. Hey, George? It'd be real nice to hear from George once in a while. Would you answer him, Miss Annie? I'd be pleased to, Mr. Butler. I've been to Augansburg in the afternoon performance with a great success. Frank don't seem very happy. I think he must be in love. Oh, by the way, do you have a picture like a tin type or something of yourself you could send? For me, of course. You don't have anything to do with Frank. Why don't you just think about this and the next time you write me, you can close one of your favorite pictures. Dear George, I'm sorry I don't have any pictures of myself. I'm afraid that anyone who wants to see me will have to come back to Dark County again sometime. But I'd be real glad to see them. Sometimes it gets awfully lonesome out here in Dark County and a friendly face can seem to be the most pleasant sight in the world. Dear Miss Annie, I thought I'd better write you this, Michelle. George thinks you want to join our act. He says you're a better marksman than me anyhow. And besides that, you're the finest person he ever met in all his life. Good night. Calls what might be called a minor sensation. By far the outstanding performer is a certain Annie Oakley, a young woman whose marksmanship is simply incredible. There is to be a command performance tomorrow for Her Majesty Queen Victoria. From a distance of 20 paces. Are you ready, Miss Oakley? Please, Miss Oakley. Oh, uh... Necessary. Her Majesty is very informal, really. Oh? Your Majesty, Miss Annie Oakley. Why, you're hardly more than a child, are you? I'm 25, Your Majesty. I understand your troop is going on to stay in from here. I guess likely, Your Majesty. You'll probably meet a grandson of mine there, Prince Wilhelm. He's full of ideas about guns and shooting. He may even offer you a position of some sort. Don't take it. I promise you I won't shoot that good, Your Majesty. You're a clever little girl, my dear. A very clever, clever little girl. Miss Oakley, there is one shot which you made that I found particularly interesting where you shoot the ashes from the end of a cigarette held in the mouth of your assistant. I have heard that this is often done by a trick, such as a small wire concealed within the cigarette. Not when I do it, Your Highness. Would you be willing to try it if I were holding the cigarette? Your Highness, please. I am not afraid, gentlemen. Why should you be? Well, Miss Oakley? Frank, what do you say? Well, you don't need to be any more nervous with me, Miss Oakley, than with this fellow who held the cigarette before. I reckon I couldn't be. This fellow is my husband. Take your stand, Your Highness. I'll try it. A cigarette, please, gentlemen. Your Highness, really, I must protest. Merely a test of nerves, my dear Field Marshal. Mine? Against hers. And I'll wage her a thousand marks. She misses her first shot. Ready, Your Highness? Quite. It's nothing. I merely a few sparks from the cigarette. Would you care to try again, Your Highness? Thank you, no. But I will promise you this, Miss Oakley. If ever I am Emperor, and if ever you need employment, you will be well paid in the service of the Imperial Germany. Thanks, Your Highness. But I got a pretty good job right now. Madison Square Garden. Final gala performance of the season. Annie Oakley. Back from her triumphs before the crown heads of Europe. After this final performance, Miss Oakley and her husband Frank Butler will leave for an extended vacation in the Carolinas. Yes, Annie? You know the hunting season will still be on in Carolina. And there's some of the best hunting in the world down here, too. Frank, maybe we ought to get a little place in this part of the country somewhere. Somewhere that's like Dark County or higher used to be. You know Frank, I've missed the outdoors so much all these years. Yeah, I know you have, Annie. Here comes the conductor. Ask him when we get there. Hey, Chief, what time do we get in? Well, we're due to class number 22 on the siding in about ten minutes. We don't have to wait. We should be in about nine o'clock. Who has not stopped at the siding? She's missed the signal, and she's speeding up the track at 65 miles an hour, rushing head on towards the special only three miles away. It seems funny, though, shooting without an audience. Will you miss it, Annie? Oh, little I suppose. No more than you have, Frank. Now, what's that mean? You know what it means. All these years when I took the bowels and you stood on the sidelines, you know how I feel. I know, Annie. I know. Say, Frank, doesn't it seem to you this train is going awful fast? It's trying to make up time again. I suppose it's something. It's a funny thing, Frank. I can't move my hand. I just... And she's very anxious to see you. I guess it was a pretty bad accident. It wasn't a... Yeah, it was real bad from what they say. Come over here, Frank. Sit here beside me. That's it. Now, sort of flip your arm around me so I can sit up a little and get a look at myself in that mirror. Annie, don't you think it'll be better with you? Help me, Frank. Would you hand me that comb, Doctor? Doctor, sooner or later, Mr. Butler. Sooner or later or later. Loose me up a little. Now I can see. Oh, it's nothing, honey. You're just turned white, that's all. That's happened to lots of people. You were in a terrible accident. I'm old. I'm old. Oh, no, you're not, honey. You and I are going down to that little place in South Carolina. Maybe the color will come back again. We'll leave just as soon as you get well. Frank, I wasn't going to let you know just yet. But they told me this morning, I'll never shoot again. I'll never walk again. Is that true, Doctor? I'm afraid it is, Mr. Butler. Annie? You know, I never lied to you in my life. And I know it's not true. The boardwalk of a New Jersey seaside resort, the year 1903. Frank Butler is pushing his wife along the boardwalk in a wheelchair. Want to walk a little more now, Annie? No, not just yet. But I do feel stronger today. Much stronger. Oh, Frank, look over there. Yeah, real old-time shooting gallery. Frank, feel me over there. No, Annie. Oh, please, please, I just want to walk. Step right up, ladies and gentlemen. Let's shot this quarter. Find his guns on the boardwalk. Step right up. Anyone try your hand there, Mr.? No, thanks. Just looking. I, uh, I do. What? Certainly, ma'am. Step right up. Help me, Frank. Oh, honey, you shouldn't do that. I've got some. That's right, ma'am. Never too old to learn, you know. Now, here's your gun. All cocked and loaded. Now, she's an automatic. You just pull that trigger there, see, for each shot. Start that swinging bell target for me, will you? If, uh, if I was you, ma'am, I'd try one of those stationary targets. You'll find them a lot easier. You just start that thing, like I say. That's just what you say, ma'am. There she goes. That was quite a shot, huh? Now, if you hold your gun just a little, I'll beat you. Why, ma'am, you're a regular Annie Oakley, ain't you? Why, yes. I guess I am. The cavalcade players, for their performance of the story of a gallant American woman, Annie Oakley, who became part of the American folklore. So legendary were her exploits that in token of her marksmanship, it became a habit to call complimentary tickets punched with holes, Annie Oakley's. And now DuPont brings you news of chemistry at work in our world. The United States has literally hundreds of thousands of followers of Annie Oakley and Frank Butler. Yes, America has many crack shots today. Witness William Schweitzer, shooting at 200 yards with a .22 rifle for two and a half hours, until it got so dark he could no longer see the target, making an unfinished run of 200 straight bullseyes. Or Gloria Jacobs, holder of the short course world's record in pistol shooting, with her score of 293 out of a possible 300. Or Dick Shaughnessy, national skeet shooting champion, who at the age of 18 last year broke 564 flying targets before he missed one. Since the day when the right of every American citizen to bear arms was written into the Constitution, shotguns and rifles have been used by millions of farmers in hunting and to protect their crops and livestock from varmints and pests. And from the city, too, flocked millions of gun owners to compete at their local gun clubs or to hunt in forest and field. Seven and a half million sports-loving Americans buy hunting licenses each year. Shooting in competition alone are 200,000 riflemen, 150,000 trap and skeet shooters, and 75,000 pistol shooters. This coming weekend, for instance, the country's oldest and largest skeet shoot, the 13th annual Great Eastern Skeet Championships will be held at the Remington Gun Club at Lordship near Bridgeport, Connecticut, with 300 of the nation's top-ranking men and women skeet stars taking part. And for every marksman of championship caliber, there are hundreds of girls and boys popping away with 22s. Though apart from our armed forces, there are in America at least 10 million citizens who know how to handle a gun and who continue to improve their marksmanship as they enjoy their favorite shooting sport. The Remington Arms Company has kept pace with the demands of American sportsmen, and steadily through the years has made better and better guns and ammunition. Through costly, painstaking research and experiments, it has accumulated a vast reservoir of technical skills, spoken of by experts as know-how. American craftsmen have learned how to make firearms and ammunition more effective and more accurate than any the world has ever known. And today, in a time of national emergency, that peacetime know-how becomes an invaluable safeguard. Likewise, lessons learned in sports become valuable skills in national protection. Today, the pilots of pursuit planes are taught skeet shooting, a target sport originated as practice for game bird shooting in the field, because a gunner who can hit moving targets from the ground can knock down moving targets in the air. The inborn love of an American for sports, competition and a good gun becomes a national defense resource. Thus, disciples of Annie Oakley and Frank Butler join hands with scientists to ensure for America the opportunity of continuing to enjoy better things for better living through chemistry. And now the star of next week's program, Carl Swenson of the Cavalcade Players. Our play next week is about one man, but it's really about two personalities. It's the story of Joel Chandler Harris, who was a great editor, helped to guide the South through the difficult years following the Civil War. And yet, managed to create some of the most lovable characters in American folklore, Rare Rabbit and the Tar Baby in his Uncle Rima stories. We hope that you'll listen to the story of Joel Chandler Harris on Cavalcade next week. In support of Agnes Moore-Headers, Annie Oakley was Ray Collins in the role of Frank Butler. On the Cavalcade of America, your announcer is Clayton Collier, sending best wishes from DuPont. This is the National Broadcasting Company.