 The Voice of America presents the Halls of Ivy, starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. This is Ronald Coleman. And Benita Coleman. Inviting you to join us again on the campus of Ivy College. USA. Somebody once observed that a letter is an unannounced visitor, and a postman is thus the agent of implied surprises. Now it looks as though Dr. William Toddler Hall is going to have a lot of epistolary company this morning. Well, his wife Victoria brings an armful of letters into his study and says... Darling, I know how busy you are this morning, so I've already sorted the mail. I took out all the ones addressed to Mr. and Mrs. and here's your batch. A batch? Vicki, my sweet, I would hardly describe two as a batch. A batch is a quantity or number of anything coming at one time and treated as a set. A set? Oh, I feel like a batch of tennis, or I just had my hair batched. Or a batching head. Well, for your information, which you may find useful on rainy afternoons, the origin of the word batch is the Anglo-Saxon bacon to bake. Oh, I always thought bacon was what you brought home from a horse race if you were lucky. No, dear, that is B-A-C-O-N. Oh. Which brings up another interesting word association, the use of various edibles for the word money. Oh, there's cabbage, lettuce, dough, beans, sugar, berries, great. Then you can have fish, lend me ten fish until payday. Mm-hmm. Or just part of a fish, lend me a fin. Or just a buck, which is a male deer, which is meat, which takes care of the whole subject, to which I was getting a little weary anyway. It's hardly worth the time we spent on it. But getting back, is there anything interesting in your batch of letters? Nothing except there probably won't be a bachelor left in this college that they are after graduation. These are all invitations to weddings. Ah, yes. June plus graduation equals marriage. A mathematical equation which sometimes makes me feel that despite my concern with administrative and academic problems, I am, in the final analysis, simply a marriage broker. Business is flourishing and everyone is going to live happily ever after. Well, some people have scornfully referred to colleges as Matrimonial Bureau. But don't stop, darling. You'll ease, I'll get it. Well, to be sure, it is not the purpose of an educational institution to provide mates and help mates, for its inmates. But, um, but since marriage, as I can fervently testify, is the desideratum, the summum bonum, then I can... Well, hello, broken. Hey, are you folks busy? I'm no busier than usual at this time of year. Yeah, this time of year. I'd like to rewrite the calendar and leave it out June entirely. Why, what's the matter with the joyous month of June? Who enjoys it? Maybe you and your bride, not me. Well, is this a general mood of depression, Grogan, or something particular? I'm up to my neck in particulars. Well, come on. Don't just stand there. Give us a particular. House mothers. What? Oh, all of a sudden they love me. They can't live without me. How can you hold a dance without Grogan? An all under same night in 17 different places. That's a tribute to your ability as an officer of the law and your graceful presence as a gentleman, Grogan. It's wrong in my dejection. That's what it is. 17 different kinds of cake in one night. But I didn't come over here to talk about myself, Doc. I got another beef. You have a beef? I just used a word in what you might call a slang way. Colloquial. Idiomatic. That's right. Idiomatic. And if that idiot, excuse me, idiot is no way for me to talk about a professor, even if he is, which he is. Look, Doc, you know I got nothing against education. On the contrary, Grogan, you have viewed our educational activities with considerable tolerance. Yeah, you've been very nice to the students, even in their more irrational moments, too, when they're being what we might call non-campus mentis. Well, I'm glad to do it whatever it is. Anyway, if I may be permitted to say so, and ho's gonna stop me, some of your teachers need an education into facts of life. Oh, we all do, Grogan. Teachers are human beings doing their best to teach other beings the human values. As H. G. Wells said in his Undying Fire, teaching is the greatest of all tasks. It is to ensure that man, man the divine grows in the souls of men. An untaught man is but himself alone. There's lonely in his ends and destiny as any beast. A man instructed is a man enlarged from that narrow prison of self into participation in an undying life. That began, we know not when, that grows above and beyond the greatest of the stars. Well, that's what H. G. Wells said about teachers. Well, I ain't no H. G. Wells, and I don't make no broad stateless. I don't say all teachers is inhuman. I just got one of them in mind. Hem and his corny jokes. Jokes, did I say, may haven't strike this latter from me lips. Well, would you care to be more specific in your... He doesn't have to be more specific for me, William. I'm sure he means Professor Heeslip. No, not other than the same. Well, now, Professor Heeslip has certain mannerisms we all do, but, Grogan, I must assure you that the head of our English department is thoroughly competent. Competent in the head, maybe, but no compassion into heart. He won't even give a girl a break. For what girl? Well, maybe you don't know, but it's Caroline Swanson. Lives off the campus in a boarding house. Now, folks, you know I ain't sentimental. Of course, not. Heart of stone, Grogan. We're completely unemotional, except with dogs, children, and the first eight bars of Mother McCree. Well, anyway, that poor kid. Husband is overseas in the army, awakened far time into studying and the worryin', just trying to keep her head above water. And this Professor Trouser and Ann Vell. Now, I'm sure that whatever Professor Heeslip has done has been only in the performance of his duty. It's a story to sanity examination papers. Well, what's the matter with her, Grogan? Is she ill? Not exactly, but the doctor told her she had to stay in bed and Heeslip said it was too bad, but he couldn't make no exception. And she would have to come to class to take the exam or else. Well, if she's under a doctor's care, that is certainly an extenuating circumstance. However, it is not unusual at this particular time of the year for students to develop strange symptoms. Blue book allergy. Compound fracture of a thesis. Inflammation of the curriculum. Oh, she ain't really sick. She's gonna have a baby. Oh, a baby! Oh, and with her husband overseas and she's here all alone. Oh, well, a baby. Is it very... I mean, is this child... Well, how imminent is the... It ain't imminent at all. It's gonna be almost any minute. Professor Heeslip is being unsympathetic. Hmm. I imagine Professor Heeslip must have been so involved in trends of 18th century prose that he was unable to recognize an act of God when he heard about it. But thank you for bringing this to my attention, Grogan. Well, that's why I come here. It ain't exactly in my department, but I figured that you'd know what to do about it. So now, it's your baby. So now, folks. I would notice about our Mr. Grogan is that he isn't sentimental. No, no, he isn't. He cries at God tricks. If you ever watch him after graduation, when the students start making their round of farewells, he suddenly develops a terrible head cold. I know. It kind of makes your eyes water. But darling, now we've got to get in touch with Caroline Swanson right away. Yes, she must be Donald Swanson's wife. He was graduated last year, and I did hear that he'd gone into the army appropriately enough into the infantry. She is now. She's a very pretty girl. Works part-time in a campus knit shop. Very foresighted, Arba. I hope she gets a discount. I suppose it would be pointless to try to explain this kind of human problem to Professor Heesley. Oh, yes. He probably thinks a bassinet is some kind of medieval musical instrument. And a crib, something his students are doing behind his back. Well, I shall take the matter into my own hands. Oh, good for you. Go right over Heesley's head. No, I shall not go over his head, Vicki. I shall meet him head on. I shall call upon him, collect the questions, and supervise the conduct of the examination in person. Oh, darling, I love you when you get that determined look on your face. You don't mind my quoting your own games, Russell Lowell. All the beautiful sentiments in the world weigh less than a single lovely action. Good night, Mrs. Maryweather. But Dr. Holt's been out all afternoon, so I'll have to call you later after I've spoken to music. Yes, goodbye. Oh, were you trying to get me, darling? I was just talking to Mrs. Maryweather. They've invited us for dinner on Saturday night. No, Vicki. But I told her I'd have to ask if we had anything on. No, Vicki, I haven't. Vicki! Well, what's the matter, darling? Caroline Swanson. Oh, of course the examination. How's it going? No, no, she's going. Vicki, she's going to have the baby. Yes, I know that. Oh, what now? Yes, Vicki, right now, I'm taking her to the general hospital. If anyone calls, refer them to the maternity ward. Well, they'll probably think the ambulance picked up the wrong member of the family, but I'll tell them. No, no, no. Just explain that I am acting in local parentis as a lack of term, meaning that with the father absence, someone else has to go crazy. The Voice of America is bringing you this presentation of the Halls of Ivy, starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. Halls of Ivy. It's later that evening and we find Mrs. Hall just entering the Ivy General Hospital in search of Dr. Hall. Dr. Tendall, you're wanted in surgery. Dr. Tendall, report to surgery. Excuse me, nurse, but could you tell me where I might find Mrs. Donald Swanson? Mrs. Swanson? Just a moment, please. Oh, yes, yes, that's a maternity case, third floor. But you can't see her now. I think Mr. Swanson's in their father's waiting room now. Mr. Swanson, but that's impossible. He's in career. Oh, yeah, that, Mrs. Swanson. Yes. Thank you, nurse. Could you tell me where is the waiting room for maternity cases? Right down the hall until you're left. Who are you waiting for? Mrs. Donald Swanson. Oh, yes. Well, it'll be sometime. You're a relative? Yes. But that is... Well, I think I saw Mr. Swanson in the waiting room a few moments ago. Yes, yes, of course. Thank you very much, nurse. Mr. Swanson, I presume... Darling, I'm so glad you... Mr. Swanson! In the confusion, nobody's been told that the father is overseas, so the nurses think that you're Mr. Swanson. Good heavens, they do. I'm supposed to be a relative too. They're very strict about visitors. Well, I'm relieved that you're here, my sweet. This is quite a nervous business. After a life neatly regulated by the clock and classroom bells and undeviating schedules, this... this uncertainty is... Wouldn't you think that nature, being a mother herself, would arrange these things with a little more efficiency? What did the nurses say? Have you asked them? No, dear. I haven't. For some unaccountable reason, I'm afraid to ask them the simplest questions. I shouldn't say unaccountable either. It's just that all nurses treat the rest of us as congenital idiots. Oh, yes. I know. You say, um, what day is it, nurse? And they say, now, now, we are not going anywhere, dear. Mining is their use of the editorial we that intimidates me. Shall we have our bath now? Epsom skimmed milk. Good sleep because we are having our basal metabolism in the morning. The impression of speaking for a powerful and sinister organization. And a terrifying abbreviation. Have you ever heard them talking amongst themselves? One nurse will say to another, did 323 have a DKJ? Yes, but it was NSG. So they're doing a PDQ first thing in the AM. As if his COD can bear up under the air for them. Their little starched caps swish their little starched skirts and take their little starched conversation down the hall. Well, starch or no starch, they're mighty handy to have around. Let me go ask them how Caroline's doing. Oh, I've already asked them that. And I've already had the answer, an exasperating ambiguity. She's doing fine, just fine. But Vicki, hasn't she been doing fine for an awfully long time now? I mean, I've been here since six o'clock. Now, Toddie, relax. As if you hadn't got enough on your mind all the preparations for graduation and here you are standing in for an absentee father when you should be home writing a speech about education for the future. Well, in a way, I'm doing what you might call fieldwork on that subject. Well, I've already held up five expectant fathers and just between ourselves, Vicki, it's not as easy as passing out diplomas. As a matter of fact, one of them passed out in my arms. One of the diplomas? No, I guess I'm not making much sense. But Vicki, do you realize that we might sit here for months? Perhaps years behind an antiseptic iron curtain, forever speculating on what really goes on in the minds of these angels of mercy. Oh, now darling, there's a good reason for the way nurses act. The less they tell you, the less there is for you to worry about. Yes, I suppose so. You know, Vicki, this has given me an idea for the curriculum of our medical school using this text of a book called The Stock, Symbol of Fatherhood. What a clumsy bird this talk with no sense of timing. Long legs to facilitate floor-pacing. Red eyes denoting sleepless nights. A long neck for stretching around hospital corridors. And a big bill for services rendered. The book would also into... Ah, Grogan, come in. Glad to see you. Come and join the reception, I. Well, you'd think somebody would have told me. How's it going? Grogan is my own unrequited question. I've been reduced to mutic expectancy and silent patience. I know, I know. Listen, doc, I was one of 14 kids. The fifth, I think. No, no, the fourth. So I helped my pop wait up for ten of them. And when he was waiting for me, Brother Aloysius propping me slipped out to the ball park, seen a double-header and cut back with half an hour to spare. That's why Aloysius was always my favorite brother. He was so considerate to be get born at the daytime. This is an emergency. Well, I wonder if she has Caroline's, Dr. Williams. Shulman? No, I don't think so. She called her Dr. Carter, I believe. Hold on, Carter. I just want to lend him when the drug store at the corner having a sandwich. Or else, all you've got plenty of time to kill. Hey, how's it about me scaring up a deck of cars? Maybe we could play a little auction-pee-knuckle. How great. I'm not familiar with the game, Grogan. I learned it from the stage hands myself. Even now I can't play it unless I'm sitting in a draft with the orchestra tuning up. Well, how's it about some penny-any poker? No, no. Poker's a little out of my line, too. I play it so badly that even with Ace is wired and sitting under the gun with the case Ace in the discard... That's enough, Doc. That's enough. Leaching somebody to play poker to talks like that I might just as well hand you my paycheck. No, sir. I'm no pigeon. Very smart of you, Grogan. Dr. Hall plays poker like a riverboat gambler. You wouldn't be a pigeon to take him on. Pigeon. You know, I've always been interested in how that stout-bodied, self-assured bird well-able to take care of itself was chosen as the symbol for one who is victimized. Now, you take the powder pigeon, a variety which I've owned. The most common of all birds is also one of the most popular. And then, of course, Grogan, there is the celebrated Nightingale. You remember Keatsie's Ode? Thy plaintive anthem fades past the near meadows. Over the still stream, up the hillside. An out is buried deep in the next valley glades. Was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music. I beg your pardon. Do I wake or sleep? You'll really have to be more quiet. This is the hospital you know. And there are patients sleeping. Oh, of course. I'm sorry, nurse. I didn't realize. Yes. Well, just so you keep your voices down, please. Yes. She has probably had a very unhappy love life. No attention to that hatchet push. She was right, Grogan. Was I really shouting, Vicky? Oh, no, Toddy. You were just a little carried away by Keats. But it was lovely. Yes, you're pretty, Doc. I'm a city kid myself. I don't know nothing about boys. Except I used to get them all the time. Only boys' nessa I ever seen was in my sister's hats. But how in the world did I get started on the subject of bird life? Well, it was a triple play, darling. P-knuckle to poker to pigeon. Ah, yes. Under the circumstances, I think we'd better try patience. Yet can I not have such tame patience boasters to be hushed? And not at all to say? Excuse me. Oh, I'm sorry, nurse. Was I talking too loudly again? Oh, no, not at all. As a matter of fact, you can shout if you want now. Congratulations. It's a boy, Mr. Swanson. An eight-pound boy. It's for graduation. It seems that my experience of last night has led me to invest more vitality and hope into the subject of facing the future. But, uh, Vicky, you went to the hospital this morning. Were you able to see Caroline? Yes, darling. And she's fine. And, uh, baby, it's such a little, dolly, it's blue-eyed and bold as a knee. And, you know, she's naming him Donald, Todd Hunter, Swanson. Todd Hunter? Oh, no, well, that wasn't necessary at all. No, I don't think she should have done that. After all, I did she, really. Terribly grateful to you, and she's such a sweet girl enough. Excuse me, darling. Hey, Dr. Hall speaking. Oh, hello, Professor Heasley. How did it go? Splendid. Seven pounds, 14 ounces. A boy. Oh, oh, you mean the examination. Well... Well, well, I have postponed it. The exact date will depend upon the availability of a babysitter. Incidentally, Professor, how's your schedule? Yes, yes, well, I'll be in touch with you, Professor. Goodbye. What did he say? He said, with characteristic originality, that circumstances alter cases. And considering the merits of this case, the quality of mercy is not strained. And he finished up with the eloquent observation that now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party. Professor Heasley said that. Oh, Toddy. He's slipping. He slip... He slip... Oh, pretty. After all I've been through. Well, be brave, darling. Anyway, Toddy, you were a dear to stand by when Caroline was having her baby. This is not the regular duty of a college president, you know. I know, my darling, but time was of the essence. Besides the idea of this young mother alone here at Ivy with no one else at hand. Oh, of course, she was prepared to go it alone without asking for help. But after all, when one's sympathy is enlisted and not drafted, the enlistment must be served. Next week at this same time at the halls of Ivy starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. Grogan is played by James Gleason and the nurses were Janet Warren and Jean Tatum. Tonight's script was written by Barbara and Milton Berlin and Don Quinn. This production of The Halls of Ivy was broadcast with an actual audience present in the studio.