 the Halls of Ivy starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. And Benita Coleman. Inviting you to join us again on the campus of Ivy College. By his charming wife, Victoria. And here in his administration building office, metaphorically putting up the shutters, cutting off the utilities, and stopping the milk delivery for the summer, we find Dr. Hall and his secretary, the indispensable, Miss Goodson. Another influx of bon voyage visitors and footloose professors. Now, is there anything else? Before I shoulder my knapsack and wander off through Balgan Fen. There are two letters to sign, Dr. Hall. Only two? That's splendid. For me to get through the college year as a two letter man is quite an achievement. Which two are they? One of them is a personal note to Mr. Wolf of Business Administration, who left us to go with an advertising agency in New York. And three times the salary we could give him, I'm happy to say. With his energy and personality, he'll make a fine. What is the term? Huxter. Oh, yes. Meaning haunch. Destiny seems to have shaped his ends for an executive chair. Professor Alvin Weingand of the English Department, congratulating him on his new publication called What's a Good Word? Yes, a real contribution to the living language. Professor Weingand advocates a positive approach to popular usage. My mother always took a negative approach. She used to tell me always to remember that the only word which occurs naturally in the English alphabet is N-O. No. I salute Mother Goodson. All right, now I'll sign the letters. Where is my fountain pen? It's been repaired, sir, at that little side street shop in Ivy. You always say that while the proprietor may be slow, you rather like his nibs. One priceless witticism for a $1 repair job, it takes three weeks. Now let me see the wolf letter and the Weingand letter. Now what, Miss Goodson? That's all, sir, you're through. I'll take care of anything else it needs doing. Your travelers checks, road maps, and motor club material are in this envelope. I hope you and Mrs. Hall have a lovely summer, sir. Thank you. And in this envelope, you will find a small contribution toward your summer, Miss Goodson. Thank you, sir. And I thank whatever powers may be who watch over college presidents for sending me such a flawless secretary. And now will you call Mrs. Hall and tell her I'm on my way? She knows, sir. I called her while you were talking to Professor Heesep. I said you'd be home in 45 minutes. You have a full 12 minutes to make it. I've been left to lunch bucket in the locker and punched the time clock right in the nose. Yes, I even had Miss Goodson disconnect the electric clock in my office, thus saving the college at least 11 cents in electricity over the summer. It's filled, but a stop clock somehow reminds me of Mr. Willman. It does. Why? Because even a stop clock is right twice a day in spite of itself. Well, the observation isn't original with me, of course, but, oh, speaking of time, aren't you home rather earlier than you'd hoped? Yes, and we'd have finished much sooner except for several professors who dropped into wish a happy summer. Oh, and Miss Goodson called. She said you were deep in conversation with Professor Heesep. Deep is the proper term. Forty fathoms at least. Heesep, as you know, fancies himself a Shakespearean scholar. And I suspect dreams of himself playing Hamlet in doublet and tights. Professor Heesep in tights is not a dream, Doddy. It's a nightmare. Yes, and it's regrettable that with a voice like Sir Henry Irving, he should have a figure like, like Sydney Green Street. Well, I'd have said Lou Costello. But between Green Street and Costello, you can split the difference and also the tights. For Heesep was a new parlor game designed, I think, for literary show-offs and intellectual snubs. I, um, I did quite well at it. Well, go ahead, snob darling, and show off for me what's the game. Well, I don't know that it has a name as yet, but it might be called, here's your hat and quote. The idea is that your opponent indicates a nearby object or suggests a brief situation, and you must counter immediately with a Shakespearean quotation, giving the sauce. Oh, you mean if you say Heesep, I snap right back with, they have been at a great feast of languages and stolen the scraps, love, labor, loss, act, form. That's it, exactly. And very good, Vicky, if I may say so. Well, thank you. I'm all tuckered out now. It says I was quite carried away with the game. I'd like to hear you two play at some time. Maybe I could enjoy seeing Professor Heesep carried away. Give me some more samples. Well, I pointed to that plaster bust of myself that one of our art students made a few years ago, and Heesep promptly said, why should a man whose blood is warm within sit like his grand sire cut in alabaster? A merchant of any sec one. Not bad. Then what did he give you? Well, he indicated a small puddle where the water cooler had leaked. So I said, great floods have flown from simple sources. All's well that ends well. That's brilliant, darling. I bet you can beat Heesep hands down at his own game. Well, my final triumph was a bit fraudulent, I'm afraid. As he was leaving, he said, man bites dog. And I said, the bite a bit is only just, it is a bitter bite. Coriolanus, act three. Well, it's marvelous. Coriolanus, I don't remember that line. No, no, I invented it for my own nefarious purpose. Heesep didn't challenge it. He was obviously afraid it would expose his own ignorance. But enough about that, my sweet. How have you occupied yourself today? Packing, repacking, calling up about the lights and the gas and the water, cleaning out the refrigerator, and fighting bees. Bees in the refrigerator? Well, I must say, you're a thrifty. It'll help me raising your own honey. Don't your bees get a tribal liturgy at freezing temperatures? They weren't my bees. Oh, borrowed bees. Well, that's a novel touch of neighbor Linus. I say, William, will you run next door to the Quincannons and borrow a cup of bees? Yeah, William, the bees weren't in the refrigerator. They were swarming in that big old Oak Cree out in front. A lot of them got into the house. And how did the beautiful and ingenious Mrs. Hall cope with the matter? Oh, the clever Mrs. Hall's first thought was to run screaming out of the back door. The second thought, the fly's water. Third and best thought, our natural history department. They sent a man over who lured them away with a queen bee. Girl crazy. And after coming in the house and seeing you, Vicki, I can't blame them. Oh, thank you. And I don't remember that Shakespeare said anything after poor that situation. Oh, yes, he did. Yes. Midsummer Night's Dream. Lord, what bees these mortals fool. That's position necessary. But yeah, you can explain it to me sometime. Excuse me, darling. Dr. Hall speaking. Hello, Professor Warren. Thank you, Joe. Well, I was a little hurt, a parade of professors through my office this afternoon. And no, Joe Warren. But what are your plans, Professor? You are. And you got your license this afternoon. Good for you. Well, thank you for calling. And we'll see you next fall. Bye, Joe. Professor Warren, you've got a license, but not marriage. I know, dear. Fishing. Oh. Oh, he says he's going up into summer remote part of Canada for the summer. I wonder why. What's the matter, darling? It's just occurred to me that, oh, well, they're probably busy packing, too. Although it does seem that one or two of them might have hoped it may be they tried. And I was too involved with his lip. Still. William, what on earth are you trying to say? Who might have tried to do what? Well, Vicki, do you realize that not a single student is called on me or telephone to say goodbye or good luck? Oh, Charlie, I don't really think that means anything. Did any of them call here while I was gone? No, but. Well, that's even stranger. They consider you practically one of them. I, being the president, might be considered too aloof to be the object of such intimacies, although I have tried to maintain a really now, don't you think it odd? Well, yes. Oh, but, darling, maybe they don't realize we're leaving today. Well, Vicki, I mentioned it in chapel yesterday morning. Oh, well, don't worry about it. My goodness, they all love you and you know it. Come on now. Now, what did the other William have to say about that? What about falsely assuming a personal popularity? Well, now let me see. Yes, yes, there's this speech in measure for measure. But man, proud man, dressed in a little brief authority, most ignorant of what he's most assured, his glassy essence like an angry ape, plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven as make the angels weep. Voice of America is bringing you this representation of the halls of Ivy, starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Collins. Ivy, we find Dr. Hall just coming back from loading the last suitcase, tennis rackets, sunglasses, camp stove, and reading material into the car. I think that does it, Vicki. And from the looks of the back seat, the rear deck, and the glove compartment, we are thoroughly equipped for a three-year safari through darkest Wyoming. Are you ready to leave? Yeah, I think so. Let me check my list again. Now then, let's see. 60, go on, 60, go on, 60, go on, 60, go on. Item 67. 67? What may I ask is the total number of your memoranda? But in round numbers, 88. Those are about the roundest numbers I could think of, so I'm not sure. But item 67 says, don't forget BB. What are you supposed I meant by that? BB, hmm, couldn't mean just BBs because I'm not taking my air rifle. A bundle of blankets, a box of biscuits, a bread and butter. Stop me if I'm getting warm. Barrel of bicarbonate, cake for barracuda, bank book. Yeah, that's it, thank you. Well, why do we need that? Considering that I've drawn practically all our available funds in the form of travellers checks, the bank book would merely be an unhappy reminder of better days. It's not the bank book, Toddy. Your bird book. Remember last time we took a long trip and you'd see a purple-billed swamp goonie or something? And you've chosen to be mad trying to identify... Yes, yes, and thank you for remembering. Where is the book? It's in the car. I loaded the first thing, so I wouldn't forget. My darling, I don't know what I should do without you, and I hope I never find out. Well, is your list all checked off? Yes, I think that's everything. Now, if you'll wait while I put on my face... Wait, wait, wait, wait. Did I hear the telephone? No, but if it had rang, you would have because you're practically sitting on it. Hmm, that's what I felt it bring. You're worrying about not hearing from the students? Well, no, not worrying exactly, but I do think it's strange that none of them called. Well, there's probably some very simple explanation, but we're both such complicated characters we can't think of it. Well, last year, for instance, we were besieged by youngsters and their friendly farewells. Will you? I can't think what I may have done or not done. I would try did them now and then, yes, but I've also consulted them. Will you? Help them. Charlie. Advise them. Darling. And to leave for the summer without a... Yes, Vicky? Look, I won't consider spending the summer with a college president who's brooding about not being played off the campus with a string quartet. Oh, oh, oh, my love, it's not that. And I don't want to have you running out of gasoline because you forgot to fill the tank because you were wondering why the senior class didn't line up on the front porch to kiss and goodbye. All right, and if you were referring to the time, we, or I rather, ran out of gasoline in our little rented English car in Devon. Was it Devon? Oh, yes. What a lovely day it was to run out of petrol. But then you always thought of the nicest things to do. I still remember the red sandstone cliffs and the surf and the seagulls scolding us for the information. Ms. Cromwell. Yes, Mr. Hall? I am an American. My entire family were pioneer Americans. Mayflower, the revolution if you'll pardon the reference. I am proud of my American heritage, but I regret to inform you that being unused to English automobiles with a smaller fuel capacity, we are out of gasoline. Oh, horrible. I don't think Parliament will call a special meeting about it. Besides, when you think that part of the Spanish armada was wrecked near here after storms and scurvy and hunger, while running out of petrol seems a little trivial, doesn't it? OK, particularly as we passed a village not two miles back, or is it kilometers or shillings? Oh, well, let's just call it a brisk walk. May I come with you? May you. But I warn you, with you the walk will not be brisk. I shall prolong the journey to the point of dawdling. Well, you've known me so briefly that you probably don't realize that I'm a girl guide. You are? Yet with three merit badges, for dawdling, sauntering, and meandering. And I am an eagle scout who has just laid an egg as a motorist. Miss Crumble, will you do me the honor? Miss Crumble, will you do me the honor of accompanying me to Young Hamlet, whatever it might be called? I'd love to, Mr. Hall, and the name of the village is Appledore. Thank you, girl guide. You know, I still feel slightly apprehensive about leaving a car parked on what is, to me, the wrong side of the road. Do Americans ever get accustomed to using the left side of the street? Why, I think they rather enjoy it. I've always heard that the American attitude toward oncoming traffic was, let's face it. Look, suppose we take a short cut across this nice, fat middle. All right. Ah, what lovely country this is. Every part of your England seems to have its own particular brand of beauty. I imagine America does, too. But beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say. Why are you staring at me? Oh, I guess I'm just at the holder with beauty in my eyes. You are beautiful, you know. I never realized how rosy your cheeks were. Oh, well, you're looking at me through the rose-colored glasses of Devon. Why, everything around here is rosy, the cliffs, the apples, the deer, and even the sheep have a reddish tinge. Yes, and look at the fuchsias outside that cottage. I don't know how science accounts for this rosy aspect, but I have a theory which explains it to my satisfaction. Well, that is always so impersonal. I think I'm going to like your theory better. What is it? Well, my theory, to account for the local pinkness, is that your presence raises the blood pressure of the countryside to such an extent that the result is a breathtaking blush. Oh. Did you say the name of that village is Applecheek? No, no. It's Appledore. And I must warn you, this part of the coast is to be taken very seriously. They say from Padstow Point to Lundy Light is a watery grave by day or night. Yes, as witnessed the Spanish Armada. Yes. Miss Cromwell Victoria. Yes, William. Do you think you would like America? Why, but what an odd question. I'm sure I would, but why do you... Well, just keep it in mind and think it over. I may have another question. A more or less related question to ask you. A telephone, darling? No, no, not on the telephone. Darling, did you call me darling? Miss Cromwell, are you... Really? A telephone ring way out here. Oh, oh... I'd have bring you back from wherever you were, darling. You had such a blissful expression on your face. I was in Devon with you. And the happier combination never existed, at least until you married me. Idiot, the student. Dr. Hall's residence. Yes, who? Archie, Scotty, sophomore, yes? See what I tell you. Oh, I see, Mr. Scott. No, no, I'm sorry, I'm making no further appointments. I'm leaving on my vacation, as I announced in chapel yesterday. Oh, oh, you've forgotten that, I see. Well, I suggest you see your faculty advisor. Yes, goodbye. Well, no good luck in God's peace. No, no, the young man wanted to consult me about a change of causes. He heard me announce our departure, but it has slipped his mind. Mind? I use the word so loosely, it is in danger of falling out of the sentence. Don't be bitter, dear. I held your hat, he had a key to the car, and goodbye, number one faculty row. We're on our way, a wave goodbye to Wellman Hall. It won't wave back, but no Wellman has time for little privileges. I'm sorry, my darling, it was just the thought of departing on my head from at least one student. William, look, what's going on? The road's blocked off ahead. What's the matter? Something wrong? It's him, it's Dr. Hall. Yes, Dr. Hall, there is something wrong. What is it, Jimmy? What's wrong? Well, the art department was making up a beautiful scroll for us to wish you a wonderful summer and thanks for everything, but somebody had spilled a bottle of ink over it. We talked him out of shooting himself, I don't know why. But all we could do then was stop me on your way and say goodbye. Well, well, thank you. Thank you all very much. You just kept Dr. Hall from shooting himself, too. I haven't got a speech ready, Dr. Hall and Mrs. Hall, but speaking for everybody in this academy of yours, I can say we wish you a wonderfully happy vacation, and if you've got room for it among your luggage, you're taking the affectionate regards of everybody with you. Take care of yourselves because we'll need you in September. May we sing you on your way, sir? You may indeed, and thank you again. Not too good now, or we may decide to stay. Okay, everybody, the IV Alma Mater. For a couple of friends. And are melted into air, fabric of this vision, gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself, yea, all which it inherits, little life is rounded with a sleeve. Good night.