 J-E-L-L-O The Jell-O program starring Jack Benny with Don Bessler and his orchestra, and the orchestra opens the program with Over My Shoulder from Evergreen. And now I present to you Mr. Jack Charles Lawton Benny of Wimpole Street. Hello again, this is Jack Benny talking. Jahe-meet! Well, folks, I started wearing my winter undies this morning and am I hot tonight? Oh, you're always hot, Jack. But not like tonight, Don. Now before the pests come in, you know the people who annoy me. I want to get in a real good story. I'm in that mood tonight. It's old, but what's the difference? You know, even news stories get old the minute you tell them. Anyway, there was a traveling salesman, a farmer, and a farmer's daughter. But one day the daughter... Hey Jack, that story is too old. It is? Well, certainly. The daughter is happily married now and has five children. Hmm. Well, that's news to me. Well, we don't need her. There was a traveling salesman and a farmer. So one day the farmer... But Jack said it was years ago. The farmer sold his farm and now is a movie star in Hollywood. Oh yeah? I wish him all the luck in the world. But I must go ahead with the story. There was a traveling salesman and nobody. So one day nobody came to the farm. I mean the salesman. I forgot to tell you, Jack, the salesman isn't traveling anymore. He runs a store in his hometown. I'll tell the story if it kills me. There was a storekeeper, a movie star, and a woman with five children. Now you've got it, Jack. Now you've got it. Go right ahead. Go ahead with what? Who's interested in a fellow that's too old to travel and a woman with a flock of children? I am. Jack, go ahead. Tell it. Oh, hello, Frank. Listen, Parker, I'm glad you got here. There was a traveling salesman, a farmer, and a farmer's daughter. So the salesman... It wasn't a salesman, Jack. If I remember right, it was a sailor. A sailor. And what would a sailor be doing at a farmhouse? Well, how do you know it was a farmhouse? Maybe it was a battleship. All right, Frank, all right. There was a traveling sailor, a battleship, and a battleship's daughter. Are you satisfied? Well, I know it wasn't a salesman. Hey, Parker, what's Jack hollering about? I don't know. He's nuts. Nice company I've got. Say, Bester, come here. You're pretty smart for a musician. Now, stop me if you've heard this. There was a traveling salesman, a farmer, and a farmer's daughter. So the... Oh, have you heard it? Heard it. I was a farmer. You were? Well, don't you remember me? I was a traveling salesman. Who's that? The farmer's daughter. Mary. Well, here we are together again. Mary. There's a Mary. Do you think that joke is too much? Nothing gets old, Jack. I've been watching the passing jam of kids for the past 20 years, and they haven't aged a bit. She's right, Jack. Nothing gets old. Why look at the Statue of Liberty? She's been standing in the harbor for 50 years, and her face doesn't show it. Clean living, Don. That's what does it, you know? And look at the Brooklyn Bridge. 65 years old, not a gray hair on it. That's right, Jack. And look at King Cut. He's been lying in a tomb for 3,000 years. He's been lying in a tomb for 3,000 years. He looks better than you do. Oh, yeah? Well, if Jack had taken that for a couple thousand years, he'd look good, too. You're right, Frank. Nothing becomes antiquated. What's antiquated, Jack? I don't know. I just read these lines. I don't write them, you know? Can I play two, Jack? Sure. Go ahead, Bester. Well, look at old Mother Hubbard. She hasn't changed much. Say, I think she had something in her cupboard besides bones. Don't you, Wilson? Sure she did. She had jello in all her bones. She had jello in all six delicious flavors. And it tastes twice as good as ever before. Oh, raspberry. Yes, and strawberry, cherry, orange, lemon, and lime. You said a mouthful. Play, Don. This program is just like a dinner. We always end up with jello. That was, uh... That was, uh... I saw a star played by Don, Turner's orchestra. By the way, Don, I see where you and the boys are playing at the Stanley Theater in Pittsburgh this week. How you doing? Oh, fine, Jack. We're doing well. I saw a picture of transit on a merry-go-round. How'd you know it was my picture? I saw Nancy Carroll's name in lights. Oh, yes. Yes, that was my picture, all right. But tell me, Don, how did you like me in it? Very cute. Very cute. That's what I was afraid of. Oh, I saw your picture too, Jack, and I thought you looked swell in that blonde wig. Blonde wig? Yeah, didn't you wear a blonde wig? That was Jean Raymond. Oh! No wonder you look so good. Mary, never mind how I look. The main thing is, how did you like my acting? I never noticed it. Look, Mary, that scene where I'm in love with a girl, I have to give her up because she loves somebody else. Why, it was heart-rending. You said it. I saw it, Jack. I saw it, and I thought it was great. But, of course, you couldn't expect to win the girl against a fellow like Jean Raymond. Is that so? Jack lost better girls, and Jean Raymond will ever get. Thanks, Mary. Thanks. Well, anyway, folks, going back from the screen to the air, this evening, we are bringing you another great artist in our series of guest stars. Tonight, we have a real surprise for you, a real thrill for your lovers of the opera. And who doesn't love opera? Ah, when we think back to the days when we had stars like Nellie Melba, Lucia D. Lombamore, and Lil Travitor. Ah, what singers they were. It just makes us wish we were young again. Well, tonight, we have secured for this program, Eddie Cander turned her down, Phil Baker didn't want her. Will they be sorry? We have secured that great Colorado soprano, Miss Gally Curchew. Gesundheit. Thank you. Madam Curchew in person. Ah, Madam Curchew, say hello to the folks. Hello, hello, hello. Never mind the chorus. I can tell by just those few notes that you're a genius. Madam Curchew, I think you are without a doubt the outstanding singer of the day. Yes, that's the trouble. I'm outstanding, but Lily Ponds is inside sitting. Well, I wouldn't let that worry you. What's Lily Ponds got that you haven't got? Of course, that can be acquired. Now tell us, Madam, when did you first discover that you were a singer? When I tried to dance. I see, I see. Frank Parker has the same trouble. Mary, quiet. Mary, that's Madam Gally Curchew. I like Puss Razzini better. Never mind her, Madam. Never mind her. But tell me, I suppose it's pretty... You'll find it... That was cute, Mary. But tell me, I suppose it's pretty hard work becoming an opera singer. No, you just open your mouth and let it go. You must have studied on an ocean liner. Now, how about entertaining us? How about entertaining us with a number or two? I know we'd all be thrilled. Have you brought to any selections with you? Yes, here's a racing farm in the morning telegram. That about covers everything, huh? Well, what would you like to hear? I don't care, we'd appreciate anything at all. Are you familiar with Madam Butterfly? No, but I'm a great friend of Charlie Butterworth. Is that so? Well, what's Butterworth now? About 40 cents a pound. Mary, keep that joke for our grocery store. Pardon this interruption, Madam, but sing anything at all. I'm sure we'll all be delighted. Well, what would you like? Would you care for La Bohème or La Paloma? Well, I mentioned cigars on the Jell-O program, you know? You have quite a large repertoire, haven't you? What's the difference as long as she's healthy? Don't get personal. Now, now, Mary, professional courtesy. Well, Madam, sing anything at all, anything at all. How about Angela Mia? Oh, that'll be fine. Angela Mia. Now, before you start, Madam, what is your range? Gas. Oh, I see. You're a gas star, huh? The thing is, what notes do you reach? Here, I'll show you exactly what I mean. Let me have that sheet of music, Don. Madam, can you reach this note here? Yes, if it stops walking. Don, see that those B-flat notes stop moving around. Go ahead, Madam, and Angela Mia. Oh, by the way, I'll have Don Paterouski accompany you on the piano. Oh, is that Paterouski? Yes, if you're Gally Curtier, yes. And who are you? Will Rogers. I mean, go ahead, Don. Give her an introduction. Very good, I think. Angela, you are my angel, dear. The heavens send you down to me from up above. Angela, for me, I am come for you, too. That puts the font in jello. Play, Don, play. That's all we wanted, Madam. I'll run along to the opera house and play. I'll never come to this dump again. My idea is... Well, Madam, could you? May I have your autograph? Yes, certainly. And now, ladies and gentlemen, Sino Tito Rupo Parker will make a man by singing The Moon Was Yellow. Do you want my autograph, Jack? No, just a cigarette, Frank. That was Frank Parker singing The Moon Was Yellow. And now, ladies and gentlemen, may I tell you that tonight, the beautiful Hawaiian islands have been added to our list of stations. And for the first time, this program reaches and I'm sure that you would like to know something about this romantic and industrious place. On some of our past programs in a former series of broadcasts, we have taken you by means of a travelogue film through England, France, Ireland, China, and India. And tonight, to mark this very special occasion, we are going to take you on a trip through the Hawaiian islands where they love Americans but pick on you. Mary, has the picture operator arrived yet? Yes, he did, yes. This little trip will go on immediately after the next number played by Don Bester and his Connecticut Hawaiians. Pack your bags, folks, and get ready for the trip. Don, will you play something to get us in the proper mood? Wiki-waki-mulakaya-moo. He said yes, folks, to play Don. Don Bester and the boys playing You've Got to Give Credit to Love. That was very good, Don. Fine Hawaiian music. And now, folks, the loyal and hardy comedy has just finished, so we will now run our travelogue, which we call Through Romantic Hawaii. The Hawaiians, as you know, are a little group of islands in the Pacific Ocean, about two inches from Hollywood on a small mass, or 2,000 miles if you really mean business. There are eight of these islands in the group, five of which are inhabited, and in order of importance, they are named Hawaii, How've You Been, How's the Misses, How's Tricks, and one more. What's the fifth one, Mary? Likewise. Likewise, that's right. In this group, Hawaii stands out the hips on your Aunt Emma. And now for our travelogue. Lights out quietly. A little atmospheric music, Don. Don, Don, that was our grocery store music. This is for Hawaii. Jack, they're grocery stores in Hawaii, too. I don't care. I want Hawaiian music. All right, Jack, don't cry. All right. That's it. Start the film, Charlie. And here is the picture. As our boat steams into the beautiful harbor, we already sense the magic of these enchanting isles under a glamorous, tropical moon. And what a brilliant moon it is, turning night into day. Parker can have his yellow moon, Morton Downey can have his Carolina moon, but give me the Hawaiian moon. How about you, Wilson? I'll have scotch and soda. We follow the white line and find ourselves entering the picturesque harbor of Honolulu, where we discover the natives already assembled to greet us. Hawaii, Hawaii, Hawaii, Hawaii. Fine, fine, fine. All right, don't overdo it, natives. In a jippy, we are down the gang flank, and here we are in Honolulu. It is Lulu's birthday, so we arrive just in time to Honolulu. We're sorry we told this joke and duck merrily down the main street of this romantic city to see the sight. And at this moment, from where we are standing, we can see several mountain peaks. What kind of dogs are those, Jack? We are told that the chief industries of Honolulu are romance and pineapples, but as our very few pineapples being thrown these days, romance predominates. Ah, sweet romance. Love is in the air. And here comes a maiden fair with teeth like pearls and jet-black hair. Hello, babe. This maiden fooled us, so we merrily went our way hither and thither, and day-lifetime finds us lost. So we stop a native boy and address him as follows. We are lost, sir. Can you tell us the way to Waikiki? We are still lost. An evening finds us wending our way. Mary, quiet. Young man, are you a native here? Yes, sir. Well, we've lost our way. Can you direct us to Waikiki? No, sir. Well, do you know where the Royal Hawaiian Hotel is? I don't know. He looks like Frank Parker to me. Mary. Well, young man, can you tell me what street this is? I don't know. You don't know anything, do you? No, but I'm not lost. Hmm. What a sap you are. A what? Saff, sap. I don't understand. Saff, what comes out of trees? Monkeys like you. We knock over a native tenor and hastily depart, still following the white line, and morning finds us in Malakamokaloo. We look at our script and find ourselves hungry. So we stop at a little restaurant called the Presto Lunch, run by a native Mr. Wikikula Slopapopolis. We enter this romantic eating place and order some of their native food, which consists chiefly of fish and poi. Hey, waiter, waiter. Coming right up. What do you like to eat? Give us two orders of fish and poi. What kind? We got apple poi, peach poi, and strawberry poi. Have you got any children? Yes, one poi. Just bring me a ham sandwich. And you, lady? I'll have some jello. Thanks, Mary. You're welcome, Don. Even in Hawaii, you can't get away from Wilson. We finish our dinner. All right, all right. And again, follow the white line from Malakamokaloo to Wukitirvayapu. A fascinating little hamlet, only a few miles distant. We are told that the chief industry here is hula dancing, and we arrive in time to see some of the natives at work. These little girls are doing their dance in a costume made of hay. There's a hungry horse approaching one of the girls, and she will soon be doing a fan dance. Shall we stop and talk to one of these fair maidens? Yes, we shall, just as we rehearsed it. Quiet, Mary. Oh, miss, come here. Come here, jahe-me! What do you want? Oh, boy, are we short of Hawaiians. Tell me, young lady, is that your native dance to hula? Yes, sir. Why do you vibrate so well dancing? It's time for my medicine, and the doctor told me to shake well before using. We shake the girls once more following the white line, and high evening finds us on the beach at Waikiki, where we should have been in the first place. And we haven't met a Hawaiian yet. Waikiki is the very famous resort that you hear so much about, and it is truly one of the beauty spots of the world. What are you laughing at? Oh, boy, are you a Burton Holmes? We ignore this jealous person and follow the white line to the water's edge where we decide to go in bathing. Can I take a dip, too, Jack? Yes, you do. Dip, dope, as long as I can swim. Ah, what a teen sport. Bathing and splashing in the blue waters of Waikiki. While we are indulging in this little diversion, we at last run into a real Hawaiian, who is also dunking himself in the ocean. Hello there! Howdy-dus, friends! Wait a minute, wait a minute. Are you a Hawaiian? What? Are you a Hawaiian? What else? Go on, you're not a Hawaiian. I know you. Sure, my name is Slaperman. Certainly, Slaperman Mary. Look who's here. Hello, Slap. Tell me. Slaperman, what are you doing in Hawaii? What do you mean, Hawaii? This is Coney Island. Coney Island? You're a dumb tootin'. Well, listen, what are those hula dancers doing here? What hula dancers? That's Minsky's show. They're playing on the boardwalk. Mary, we have the wrong film. This is Coney Island. You're telling me a herring just bit me. So we return to our steamer, and again follow the white line. As we sail up the beautiful East River, the Waikiki, or Coney Island, we hear in the distance the natives singing their fond farewell. Jello, Hawaii. Jello, Hawaii. It's made in six delicious ways. Mary, after this, get me the right travelogue, and we sincerely apologize to Hawaii. Play, Don. The moment you open a package of Jello and smell that delectable, fresh fruit fragrance, you know the Jello's flavor is extra rich. You can dissolve those delicate crystals in warm water and sniff again that enticing fruit aroma like a fragrance wafted from a fruit orchard. You have more proof of Jello's new extra-rich goodness. And when you pour your Jello into a mold and fill it to beautiful shimmering firmness, when you dip in your spoon and take your first taste, then you know for sure that Jello tastes twice as good. Crystal clear, colors as gay as the rainbow, flavors as delightful as the rich fresh fruit itself. All six kinds of Jello are extra rich, framed with fruit flavor. Strawberry, raspberry, cherry, orange, lemon, and lime. Look for the big red letters in the box. They tell you, here's a dessert your family will go for in a great big way. This concludes our fourth program in the new Jello series, and even though we gave you the wrong travelogue tonight, I hope you were entertained. What, Mary? I just found the Hawaiian travelogue. It was lying on the piano. Too late now, Mary. Good night, folks. The selection you're devastating is from the production, Roberta. This is the National Broadcasting Company.