 Ladies and gentlemen, the Jaws of Schlitz Brewing Company of Milwaukee, Wisconsin presents the Halls of Ivy starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. I was curious. I tasted it. Now I know why Schlitz is the beer that made Milwaukee famous. If you like good beer, you'll find it pays to be curious and learn about Schlitz for yourself. Welcome again to Ivy. Ivy College that is in the town of Ivy USA. The President of Ivy College has a residence on the campus which is known to the student body naturally enough as the powerhouse. And here are the powers themselves, Dr. William Todd Hunter Hall and his wife Victoria, the former glittering ornament of the English musical comedy stage. They're playing chess, a game which can be played for either sheer intellectual diversion or ten cents a game. This is the ten cent variety of events because Mrs. Hall is saying... That's checkmate, isn't it, dear? Um... You now owe me twenty cents. Let me see. I mean, isn't there any place you can move your king, is there? Uh, no. No, no, you've won again, Victoria. Tell me, what impelled you to zip that queen clear across the board? That was a devastating move. I don't know. There was a clear space to move it and she hadn't done anything for a long time so I just slid her over. Was it good? Good. It was magnificent. Are you sure you never played this game before you married me? You're a scouts, aren't you, Toddy? I always thought chess was a game for bearded old men and mental giants. That's pure nonsense, Victoria. It can be played for simple amusement by people with no intellectual pretensions, whatever. Like me? Yes. I mean, no, no. I didn't mean that at all. I merely meant... Look, how about another game? Well, I don't think we have time, William. Mrs. Gerhardt will be here in... Oh, good heavens, I forgot to tell you. I'm so sorry. Mrs. Professor Gerhardt, is she coming over here? Yes. She wants to talk to you about a very personal matter, as what she said. Doesn't Professor Gerhardt do something with mummies or something? I mean, does he dig up tombs and gold coffee pots and all like that? Um, Gerhardt, my dear, is an Egyptologist of some renown. What do you suppose Mrs. Gerhardt wants? I haven't the slightest idea. Oh, she's here now, I imagine, dear. Will you put away the chess and I'll let her in? Checkmate in seven modes, indeed. Paul, oh boy, you're slipping badly when a rank amateur can... Thank you, Mrs. Gerhardt. Mrs. Gerhardt, to see you. Ah, good evening, Mrs. Gerhardt. Please sit down. Good evening, Dr. Hall. I'm sorry if I'm breaking in... Oh, you don't have to leave, Mrs. Hall. Well, thanks, but I have dozens of things that need doing. I'll be back in a little while. Just excuse me, will you? Of course. Um, how is Hans, Mrs. Gerhardt? Since he received that last batch of pottery and sarcophagi, I don't see much of him. Well, I... I don't see much of him these days, myself, Doctor. And it isn't because of his work. Logically, I suppose my next question is, why isn't it? Has Professor Gerhardt taken to being absent without leave? Yes. Oh. Doctor, I... I haven't the slightest right to come to you with what's really a... a very personal family matter. My only excuse is that I trust your judgment so implicitly, and... Well, I... I don't know where else to go. The ivy bulletin doesn't give advice to the lovelorn. Hmm. Well, my principal business is human relations, and by extension, I suppose, family relations among the faculty. So, let's examine the problem, whatever it is. It's a very simple one, Doctor Hall. And a very old one, too, I suppose. Hans is... well, I... I think there's another woman. Another woman? Oh, but he's old enough to know... Oh, no, I really... I can't... I've always heard it said, Doctor, that the dangerous age for men was from their first long pants to their last short breath. I don't suppose I should be so surprised about this. But I am. And if Hans hasn't been happy with me, he's been an awfully good actor. Oh, my dear lady, Hans Gerhard couldn't act. Why, he'd be lost in a kindergarten charade. A more open... Oh, I see. That does leave the alternative, doesn't it? Yes. That's the fact that he's spending much too much money. He refuses to tell me where he spends three or four evenings a week, and he comes home with lipstick on his collar. Have you asked him about it? Yes, last night. He simply turned three shades of vermilion, walked into his study and started measuring the shin bone of some Assyrian queen that he uses for a paperweight. You know, it's bad enough to compete with live women, Doctor, but when they've been dead for 4,000 years, it's enough to make a wife take another look at herself. Ah, let me... let me assure you, it has nothing to do with your appearance. Having been extremely fortunate as a husband, I consider myself somewhat of an expert on what a wife should look like. Now then, just what do you think I can do? Well, I... I don't know, frankly. And just as frankly, even though you have come to me as a family friend and your husband's superior officer, I feel a little presumptuous in interfering in such a very personal matter. But wouldn't an open faculty scandal concern this college, rather directly, Doctor? Do you intend to cause one, Mrs. Garrett? Oh, I certainly do not. There are fewer people who know about this the happier I'll be. But... but these affairs always stop gossip, Doctor. Oh, if I can merely drag Hans back to his senses and his old Egyptian bones, I'll never mention it again. I don't want any melodrama. I just want that sweet old group of mine to stop making an idiot of himself. End of me. Well, this role is an unfamiliar one to me, Mrs. Gerhardt, but give me a few days to see what I can do. And thank you for the... for the absence of hysterics. You're a very well-adjusted woman. Thank you. I don't think I'm completely unemotional about this, Doctor, because I... I don't fling myself about the campus, clutching a bunch of tears, staying violent. But I... I haven't been sleeping very well either. That's quite understandable, I'm sure. Good night, Doctor, and thank you for listening to me. Good night, Mrs. Gerhardt. Ah, the cloistered life of a college president. Doctor William Todd Hunter Hall. Alias Beatrice Fairfax. Alias Willie the Snoop. Just how does one go about shashing La Femme? Does one... How do you both unearth you muttering about? Please, Victoria, I'm on a case. You act more as though you just finished one. Is it something to do with Mrs. Gerhardt? It is quite something, indeed. And the splendid advice which you are about to give me, I hope, will ease my conscience for violating Mrs. Gerhardt's confidence. Well, you haven't violated it yet, Willem, so please do. I'll be the close-mouthed faithful secretary in love with the boss. What's the caper, Chief? Caper, in this instance, is extremely apt. Professor Gerhardt is capering. He shows unmistakable evidence of matrimonial deviation. Oh, my goodness. Have you any idea what direction he's taken? Well, that's what I'd like to find out. I don't know what I'll do about it when I do find out, but... Oh, Becky, do I appeal to you as a blue-nosed reformer, a censor of other people's private lives? No, Toddie, you'll just appeal to me. As? Nothing, you just appeal to me. Do I appeal to you? With an increasing intensity, which is a little frightening. Well, it doesn't frighten me. I can walk right up to it. See? I'm brave, huh? Oh, Vicky, darling, I do love you dearly, but you're taking my mind off the Gerhardt case. And you haven't answered my question. What, Chris? Oh, yeah. You mean how to put the finger on the hazy that's making a pigeon a pyramid boy? Oh, Vicky, Vicky, please. I'd almost prefer profanity from you. Oh, all right. No, no, no, no, no. I said almost. All right, now. Now, let's be sensible, after all. The matter holds very little gaiety for Mrs. Gerhardt. Oh, I'm sorry, Toddie. Of course it does. Well, now, let me see. If I wanted to find the woman my husband was... Hmm... Why, William? It's obvious. Not to me, I'm afraid. Do you have an idea? I have the idea. It's no use being modest about it. Well, would you mind telling me? Just exactly. Look, Toddie, this is a scandal in the making. What goes hand in hand skipping along with scandal? Gossip. Who's the greatest gossip within 500 miles of Ivy College? Doc Fish, the barber. Vicky, I knew you didn't win those chess games by pure beginner's luck. You have an IQ of at least 750. Well, when I get to 900, I'll sell. Yes, yes, the telephone. Go on, call Doc Fish. He closes at six, and it must be almost that now. Hello, Doc. This is Dr. Hall. Doc, you know everything that goes on around here besides the things you invent, and I... Wait a moment. Is there anyone else in the shop? Good. Doc, where does Professor Gerhard go on his nights off? Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Oh, this is mad thing. What, what, what was that street number again? Mm-hmm. Well, thank you, Doc. Thank you very, very much. What a filthy old world this would be if it weren't for Gossips like Doc Fish who'd keep their ears to the ground picking up all the dirt. What did he say? I mean, he knew, of course. Of course. Where's my hat, Vicky? I don't know. What do you want with it? Well, I'm about to call on a mysterious widow who loves at 12... I mean, who lives at 1245 Foster Avenue. Now, if I'm not back in an hour, I shall probably come wandering in at 4 a.m., reeking of sandalwood and stained with mascara. Pray for me, Vicky. Pray that I may withstand the lure of this unknown woman. Pray for you? I'm praying for me. Oh, get along, private eye. And if you should look up from your white, bare-skinned rug past your long ivory-stigaret holder and see a woman lurking in the shrubbery, well, three guesses. I was curious. I tasted it. Now I know why Schlitz is the beer that made Milwaukee famous. Well, returned to the halls of Ivy, starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman in just a moment. But first, let's hear the story of a curious photographer who missed the picture and developed a liking for Schlitz beer. Well, I specialize in weddings, family portraits, and graduation pictures. Some people are kind enough to say my photography is inspired, but actually, there's more toil than talent in it. You take that family-eye photograph last week. Now, you'll admit a fidgeting child is not fair game for a photographer. And in this particular family, there were three plus two adults who seemed to regard the camera as a deadly weapon to be watched with tense suspicion. Well, with much patience and perspiration, I worked to get the family properly posed. And just as I had them smiling broadly and was about to snap the picture, a figure carrying a tray of Schlitz beer came into focus. And I started to indulge myself in a little artistic temperament at this interruption when I discovered there was an extra bottle of Schlitz in the tray for me. Well, in the face of such unexpected hospitality, I could hardly stay angry. I took the bottle of Schlitz that was offered me and poured myself a glass. Well, I had never tasted Schlitz before in spite of all the good things I had heard about it, and I was mighty curious to see whether this much-talked of beer really lived up to its reputation. I took one swallow, then another just to make sure, and came to a swift conclusion. If Schlitz tastes as good to others as it does to me, then I say, it's no wonder they call Schlitz the beer that made Milwaukee famous. As we return to Ivy, we find Dr. Hall walking briskly along the street on the far side of the town. He's on his way to make a personal investigation of one point of a faculty triangle. Ridiculous mission for a college president. Peeping and prying into the amours of a reputable professor. Who am I to police the murals of my fellow men? Simply because I know Lothario myself must I waggle a sensorious fear? Oh, hello there, officer. Pleasant evening, isn't it? It is that. You're Dr. Hall from the college, aren't you? Yes, I am. I don't know whether to be flattered or disturbed at being recognized so promptly by the city police. Oh, you're better known than you think, Doc. There's a police circular of you pinned up in my son's room. A police circular of me? Well, really, officer, I can't quite remember ever being the object of your official attention. What was my crime? Desertion. Oh. The students at Ivy and my son as one of them thought you were going to quit as president a few months ago. I'd admit there was some discussion of the matter among the governing board, but my departure would have been quite involuntary, I assure you. Well, the kids were kind of upset about it, so they got out circulars with your picture and description on them like regular police jobs. We call them readers. They says, wanted for desertion, William Toad Hunter Hall. Todd, Todd Hunter, family name. Oh, yeah. Well, I guess all the students was glad you stayed, Doc. My kid thinks you're the nuts. Well, thank you for both the sentiment and the use of the definite article. By the way, officer, how far is Foster Avenue? Three streets farther than the way you were going, Doc. What number? Which in the 1200s? Turn right on Foster and it's the second block. Thank you. Thank you very much. It's a pleasure to be of service to the husband of a wife like yours, Doc. Oh, you know Mrs. Hall. Well, my son and his wife do. One day she got took to the hospital and he had to go with her. Your wife sat with the baby. Wouldn't take anything for it, either. Well, I shall have to speak to her about that. She'll never get anywhere that way. Um, by the way, I hope it was nothing serious with your daughter-in-law. Oh, no, just another baby. Good night, Doc. Good night, officer. Oh, let me see. Number one, two, four, five. Here we are. And I wish I could think of one sound sensible reason for being here. But as Vicki always says, things don't add up, add lip. Yes, my romantic soul, a British door knocker. Exactly like the one on Vicki's flat in London. The lion on the unicorn fighting for the crown. Well, how that takes me back to the first night when I was a love smitten professor and had the consummate gall to hope that a star of the London theatre would look favourably on my intentions. Is your landlady usually this difficult to rouse? Always. As a matter of fact, I don't think the poor soul has ever been awake since she was hit on the head at a coconut shy as a child. Hit on the head at what? A coconut shy. They have them at all affairs. A man sticks his head through a hole in the canvas and people pay to throw coconuts at him. But don't they have those in America? Oh, yes, yes, indeed. In fact, I doubt if there is any civilized country where commercial assault and battery is more advanced. I merely failed to recognize the name. In America, we call them African Dodgers. African Dodgers? Yes. Oh, odd. Coconut shy is the proper term, of course. Oh, of course. And African Dodger is seldom used in America anymore. There's a highly commendable trend away from using social symbols as targets for violence. You see, my country is just emerging from its pioneer status, Victoria. It's growing up, but there is still some regrettable antagonisms. I think that your wise understanding of minority groups is one of the two things I admire most about England. What's the other thing? You, if I may say so. Well, of course you may say so. I love to have you think well about us and about me. What do you suppose has happened to Mrs. Tolliver? Knock again, please. Well, don't you ever carry a key? Always. And I always leave it in my dressing room. I think I must have half a pound of them there by now. I'm a very skittery-minded girl, William. You'll learn that in time. In time? You mean, then, that this won't be the last? I mean, then, then I may see you and bring you home again sometime? If American Enterprise is up to it and if you wouldn't think my typical British reserve was crumbling too fast, how about tomorrow night? Vicky. Vicky, my darling, I... Oh, I'm sorry. I had no right to say that. Didn't you? My darling? Oh, Vicky. You're giving me the loveliest evening of my whole life. If this door never opens, and I'm beginning to hope it doesn't, this doorstep will become more sacred to me than all the stones in Westminster Abbey. If Mrs. Boliver never comes... Boliver? Well, if Mrs. Toliver never comes, I... Oh, hello, Mrs. Toliver. How is your coconut? I mean, your head. I mean, I hope we didn't wake you up. Miss Crumble and I, I mean, she forgot a key again. I beg your pardon? Who did you wish to see? You see? Well, I'd be just... Oh, oh! I'm sorry. I was thinking of something else. Are you Mrs. Reed? Yes. I am Dr. Hall of Ivy College. I'm sorry to intrude, Mrs. Reed, but may I have a few words with you? Of course, Doctor. Please come in. Sit over there, Doctor Hall. I'm very glad to meet you. Professor Gerhard talks so much about you. Oh, yes, Professor Gerhard. Yes, um... I heard from a friend that he visited you quite frequently, and I was just passing by, so... I beg your pardon? You are Mrs. Reed? Yes. I'm Mrs. Reed, Doctor. I was expecting to see you rather... Have you a daughter, Mrs. Reed? Oh, no, Doctor. I have no daughter. And now, may I ask you a question? Of course, please do. Are you helping to take the senses? Oh, no. No, Mrs. Reed. No. No, I'm not. Didn't I ask the purpose of this visit? This is quite an intrusion, Mrs. Reed, but if I may impose on you, could you tell me if you expect Professor Gerhard tonight? I'm afraid, Doctor Hall, that I... Oh, that's Professor Gerhard, Doctor. If you'll excuse me. Oh, come in. Come in, Grandmother. Please come in. You're just in time to tell us goodbye. Christine and I were just leaving for the theatre. Eh, Christine? Yes. And Uncle Hans gave me a beautiful diamond necklace to wear, too. Look, Mama. The crown jewels of a nation. Imagination. And after the theatre, Christine and I... Is there something wrong, Grandmother? Professor, a friend of yours is here. A friend of mine? Surely there must be some mistake. None of my friends... Doctor Hall, well, this is a surprise. And an infusion, I fear. Christine, may I present Doctor Hall? Doctor Hall, my very, very dear friend, Miss Leslie. Good afternoon, Miss Leslie. You don't know how I've looked forward to meeting you. Hi, Doctor Hall. Uncle Hans and I were just playing games, you know. I can't walk. Well, in games, Christine, you... You don't have to walk. You can just be places. That's what Uncle Hans always says, too. Last week we flew up to the moon, didn't we? I had a new hat to wear, and I had him some lipstick. Only Uncle Hans... Only Uncle Hans said I looked more like an Indian on the warpath. And tonight we're going to theatre. Not really, you know, just make believe. Yes, I know, Christine. I may believe I was at the theatre tonight, only... Only my last act was all wrong. It was about a man and his wife. And the wife thought her husband didn't love her anymore, because he was away from home so much. She didn't realize that he's extremely sentimental and a little ashamed of it. And he loves children. And, well, I don't want to give away the entire plot, so... I think that I know the plot, Doctor. Is there a college president in it? One who is so fond of his friends that he permits his affections for them to make a sausage of himself on their behalf? Yeah, that's the one, yeah. It's called where angels fear to tread, or William Redface Hall rides again. So, as long as you know the plot, Hans, I better be running along. No, perhaps I'd better go, too. If your grandmother... Where is Mrs. Reed? I think she left, Hans, minding her own business, no doubt, and setting a good example for a nosy college president. Nonsense, Doctor. You were being most friendly. I should have explained this whole thing. But, no, no, I had a reason. Christine, say good night to Doctor Hall. I'm taking him home. He's easily confused, and I don't want him to get lost going back. Good night, little one. Good night, Uncle Hans. Come again soon. Good night, Doctor Hall. Good night, Miss Leslie. May I come again? Oh, sure. Can you play games? Well, not as well as Uncle Hans, but I'm learning. Why didn't the silly man tell his wife he was simply visiting his child? Well, he explained that to me coming home, Vicki. You know, the gear heart's a childless. He wants to adopt Christine, but he wanted to be sure first that she liked him. Then he was going to surprise his wife. Maybe she wouldn't feel the same way about it. Mrs. Gearheart? The one who was always picking up stray puppies, mending the wings of the sparrows and otherwise making a sentimental angel of herself? No, I think we can trust Hans' judgment on that. Oh, Vicki, I am an impulsive, snooping Batinsky. Oh, no, you're not. Well, you merely took dictation from your heart and couldn't read your own shorthand. Your intentions were absolutely right. Yes, but my methods were wrong. Instead of dashing out of here, all prepared to brand some brazen woman as a marital interloper, I should have gone direct to Hans. Well, then he'd called you an outrageous busybody and you wouldn't have solved a thing. Well, I haven't solved anything anyway. Well, maybe I did help bring matters to a head. Mrs. Gearheart might have taken some regrettable action. Of course. You just go on being impulsive, Toddy. Reason and logic, they're beautiful things, I know, but anyone with impulses as nice as yours can't go far wrong. Oh, Vicki, my sweet, you are at comfort. But I am somewhat inclined to hasty action for causes which I think are right. And when I saw that child tonight with a little twisted body and her bright and eager face, I thanked whatever gods may be that I am his dear. To meet so much gaiety and courage in so small a package was well worth any idiocy in my part. Now, where did I put that jackknife? Jackknife? That's about as far as switches I've ever had. Not at all, my dear. No one can play mumbly peg without a jackknife. I never heard of mumbly peg. What is it? One of our great national games. I haven't played it since I was a very small boy. Now sit down on the floor, Vicki. I will not. Look, I promised a certain young lady I would learn some games, and you can't play mumbly peg standing up. Now sit down. I was curious. I tasted it. Now I know why. Schlitz is the beer that made Milwaukee famous. And here again, our Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. Ladies and gentlemen, the little girl in our story is only one of the many crippled children who are condemned to walk and play only in their imaginations. But there is an organization dedicated to commuting the life sentences of these children. Yes, and grown-ups too. The National Society for Crippled Children and Adults. Through its Easter seal campaign, now underway, it is acting as your agent in doing what it can to restore these children to normal life and activity. Buy Easter seals and contribute to this cause as generously as you can. Send a check or money order to Crippled Children box 5050 Chicago, Illinois. It's an easy number to remember. 5050 Chicago, Illinois. Thank you and good night. Good night, everybody. We'll see you next week at this time at the halls of I-Vase starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. The other players were Hans Connery, Nick LeGrand, Florence Walcott and Anne Whitfield. The night script was written by Don Quinn and Walter Brown Newman. Our music was composed and conducted by Henry Russell. The halls of I-Vase was created by Don Quinn directed by Matt Wolfe and presented by the Jaws of Schlett's Brewing Company of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Ken Carpenter speaking. Next, it's We the People over most of these MBC stations.