 The luck presents Hollywood. Leave about this company, the makers of Luck's Violet Soul brings you the Luck's Radio Theater, starring Edmund Gwen in Miracle on 34th Street. Ladies and gentlemen, your producer, Mr. Irving Cummings. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. Our Christmas present to you is one of our 20 greats, which has become a modern Christmas classic. A miracle on 34th Street. So if you have any doubts as to whether or not there's a Santa Claus, I want you to meet Edmund Gwen in a moment, when he will recreate his original role in this delightful 20th Century Park's picture. It's Thanksgiving Day in New York City. On a broad avenue adjoining Central Park, an annual event is being joyfully awaited. The spectacular parade, presented by Macy's department store, to herald in the Christmas season. Away from the crowd are two of Macy's public relations experts. He's simply wonderful, Mrs. Lockett. Just look at him on that float. The most realistic static class we've ever had. Oh, why? He didn't even need any padding, did he? Padding? But didn't you notice he's tummy? It's so round, it's so full. It's so fully packed. Well, while everything's under control, where on earth did you find him? I've... I don't know. I guess turned around and there he was. And do you think that the man whose place he took was intoxicated? With a breath that would knock over a reindeer. Just think of Mr. Macy had seen him. What if Mr. Gamble had seen him? Competition between our stores is tough enough as it is. And the parade's starving. Let's stand at the curb. All right, Mr. Shellhammer. I'm going home and relax. Anyway, I can see it from there. I lived after on the corner. Oh, so you do. Well, see you tomorrow, Mrs. Lockett. And congratulations on finding the fifth static class in Macy's history. Certainly a wonderful parade, Susan. Oh, just look at that clown. Gosh, what a giant. Giant, Mr. Geary? They're not the same as giants. Well, not now. Maybe we're in olden days. Really, Mr. Geary? And you are a lawyer. Oh, what about the giant Jack Kills? You know, Jack and the Beanstalk? Everybody knows about the fairy tale, and I agree with my mother. Fairy tales are silly. Come in. Good afternoon. I'm Susan's mother, the maids said. Hello, mother. I'm watching. Hello, darling. Susan, he's told me quite a lot about you, Mr. Walker. He's told me quite a lot about you, too. A man in the summer closet. Oh, that's all part of a plot, Mrs. Walker. I'm very fond of Susan, but I also want to thank you. At least you're thanks. And those static locks don't even mention the maids. Why not, mother? That's the static lock you see, the last-minute substitute. But why? Remember the way the janitor was last few years? Oh, my. How does it now? I see, Susan. They're the way the static lock is either. That's right. She never has. Well, that's the end of the parade. Mother, I've been thinking. It's Thanksgiving, and there are only the two of us. Couldn't we invite Mr. Gary? Well, I... No, please don't bother. I'll have a sandwich or something. Well, we have such a big turkey. Please, Mother, please. Did I ask all right, Mr. Gary? Who's he? Oh, you asked fine, Susan. Then is it three, Mr. Gary? Yes, Mr. Schellhammer. You're made safe for a Thanksgiving dinner, but I just had to tell you, your Santa Claus must do tendons. Well, thank you. Mr. Macy himself wants him to be our toy department Santa Claus. Well, fine. Can you hire him? I already have. Oh, he's a born salesman. I just feel it. Good. We'll talk about it in the morning. Thanks for calling, Mr. Schellhammer. Mr. Schellhammer, you're Santa Claus. Thank you, Alfred. Thank you. Good morning, Santa Claus. Morning. Now, before you go to the toy department, here's a list of toys that we have to push. You know, things that we're overstocked on. Oh. Now, you will find that a great many children will be undecided as to what they want for Christmas. When that happens, you immediately suggest one of these items. You understand? I certainly do. Fine. Now take the list, and Alfred here will show you to your throne in the toy department. And don't forget, you're working for Macy. Well, of course I am. What do you want for Christmas, little boy? I want to find you with a real house that's rich, real old water, and I want to win in the house. I want to win in the backyard. I promise. And I promise you will get your fire engine. You see, Mama, I told you Santa Claus, too. Yes, Madam? What's the matter with you? Now, now, now. It's a trouble. Well, I told you before, didn't I? The kid wants a fire engine, but there is a one to be had anywhere in town. Macy's ain't got any gimbals, ain't got any... Nobody's got any. My feet are killing me, and you say, OK, he gets the fire engine. Yeah, but you can get those fire engines at Schubert's. I'm mixing them up, and you're only 450. Wonderful, Bob. Sure, so. Hey, I don't get it. Oh, I followed the toy market very closely. Macy's sending people to other stores? Are you kidding? Well, the one important thing is to make the children happy, isn't it? Whether Macy's or somebody else sells the toy doesn't matter. Don't you feel that way? Who, Macy? Yeah. Oh, yeah, sure. Only I didn't know Macy's did. I don't get it. I just don't get it. Who's next, please? Right this way to see Santa Claus. All right, little girl. You're next. You want some roller skates? Well, you shall have them, too. And he has some fire skates here at Macy's. Haven't you, Santa Claus? Oh, they're good skates, all right, but not quite good enough. Now, I left some really wonderful roller skates at Gimbal's. I'm sure Gimbal's had just what this good little girl wanted. Is this Joe Hammer? Are you Mr. Joe Hammer? Gimbal's. Well, that's just what he did to... Gimbal's? Uh, the sales lady said I should speak to you. There you go. I just want to congratulate you and Macy's on this wonderful new stunt, your program. Mom! Imagine a big outfit like Macy's putting the spirit of Christmas ahead of the commotion. Mom! Well, from now on, I'm going to be a regular Macy's cut. Mom! All right, Mortimer. We'll go with you. Gimbal. Good apartment over there, Mr. Gary. You know all about the Macy's store, don't you, Susan? Well, that's because my mother works here, but I still think it's silly bringing me here to see Santa Claus. Well, I just feel it when you talk to him. Okay, Mr. Galing. I'm certainly willing to try. Hi, young lady. And what's your name, little girl? Susan Walker. What's yours? Mine? Chris Clingle. I'm Santa Claus. Hmm. Oh. Oh, you don't believe that, eh? Uh-oh. This is my mother's Mrs. Walker. Oh. But I must say, you're the best-looking Santa Claus I've ever seen. Really? You're bad, for instance. It doesn't have one of those things that goes over your ears. Well, that's just because it's real. Just like I'm really Santa Claus. I'll go ahead and go on, pull it. Real? Yeah. And I'll open you like me to bring you for Christmas. No, thank you. Whatever I want, my mother will get. It's a sensible one. It doesn't cost too much. Oh. Quite right. Hello, Mrs. Walker. Hello, Mr. Gaming. The explanation for all this is very simple. Your maid's mother sprained her ankle. She had to go home, so she asked me to bring Susie down to you. As long as we were here, I figured we might as well say hello to Santa Claus. He has real whiskers, Mother. Susan, would you mind standing over there a minute? If you want me to. I, uh, shouldn't have brought Susie to see Santa, eh? Now you're making me feel completely heartless. Oh, I'm sorry. Don't you see? I tell Susan that Santa Claus is a fable and you show her a very convincing old man with real whiskers. Who is she to believe? Yeah, that's right. When Susan was a baby, her father and I were divorced. Ever since then, I've protected my child by teaching her realities. If you don't believe in fairy tales and fantasy, you can never be heard of this illusion. We were talking about Susie, Mrs. Walker. And I must ask you to let me raise her as IC6. All right here, the door's going to close soon. We'll run along to my office. I'll protect you. Why didn't you see me, Mrs. Walker? Oh, oh yes, come in. I, um, I'd be grateful if you'll please tell Susan you're not really Santa Claus. That there actually is no such person. Well, but Mrs. Walker, not only is not such a person, but here I am to prove it. No, no, you misunderstand. I want you to tell her the truth. Now, what's your real name? Chris Pringle. And I always tell the truth. Susie, I'll bet you're in the first grade. Second grade? I mean, your real name. Well, that is my real name. My goodness, Susie. Second grade? Very well. I have your employment card right here. I'll look it up on that. That's a very cute dress, Susie. It's for Macy. We get 10% off. Oh. But you always tell the truth to you. Mr. Employment Card. Yes. Name? Chris Pringle. Address? Brooks Memorial Home, Great Neck, Long Island. You can call the home if you get to confirm it, Mrs. Walker. It's a home for elderly gentlemen. Would you also like for me to confirm this? What's that? Date of birth. As old as my time and a little bit older than my teeth. Price of birth. North Pole, now, really. Why, I believe you doubt me, Mrs. Walker. And this tops everything. Next of kin. Oh, there. Dasher, dancer, prancer, and vixen. I'm sorry to have to do this, Mr. Pringle. What's the, um, the sort of part we had two years ago is back in town, and I feel that we owe it to him to give him that. Now, why don't something wrong? Oh, no. No, it's just, excuse me. Hello? And this is Mrs. Harold Herrmann, Mrs. Walker. Crop, whatever you're doing. Mr. Macy wants to see us in each of us. I'll be right up. I'm afraid I'll have to be very abrupt with you. I'll have to see Mr. Macy. You'll be paid for the full week, Mr. Pringle. I'll send you a check for that address. Oh. Oh, come right in, Mrs. Walker, Mr. Herrmann. Thank you, Mr. Macy. Now, uh, how about this new policy you two initiated? Macy's Santa Claus sending customers to gimbal you. But, but, but I can explain everything, Mr. Macy. You don't have to explain a thing. Look, look at my desk. 42 telegrams and over 500 phone calls. Grateful parents expressing unbind gratitude to Macy's department store. Would you? Oh, you don't say. Yes. And from now on, not only will our Santa Claus continue in this manner, but every salesperson in the entire store. You mean if we haven't got what the customer asked for? We're descending where he can get it. No more high pressuring and forcing a customer to pick something he doesn't really want. I think that's wonderful, Mr. Macy. We'll be known as the, as the helpful store. They are the friendly store. The store that places public service ahead of profits. And consequently, we'll make more profits than ever. Now, as for you, Mrs. Walker, Mr. Schellhammer, you'll find a more practical expression of my gratitude in your Christmas. Thank you, Mr. Macy. Thank you. Oh, and tell that wonderful Santa Claus I will forget immediately. As a matter of fact, I'll tell him myself in the morning. Well, yes indeed, Mr. Macy. Good night. Good night. Good night. And thank you again, sir. Oh, imagine a bonus. Yes. What's the matter with you? Mr. Schellhammer, I, I just fired him. You just, oh, Santa Claus! Oh, no, you couldn't have. Oh, I did. He's crazy, Mr. Schellhammer. He really thinks he is Santa Claus. I don't care if he thinks he's the Easter Bunny. Find him. It was a tragic few hours that Doris spent last night rushing out to the Brooks Memorial home in Long Island. An assuring Chris Kringle that Macy's wanted him back as Santa Claus. So Chris is again presiding over the counted toy department while in her office Doris and Mr. Schellhammer. Don't you understand, Mr. Schellhammer, that old man with the nice white whiskers insists that he is Santa Claus. He's out of his mind. He might even be dangerous. I've got to tell Mr. Macy. But maybe he's only a little balmy. Anyway, you can't be sure until he's examined. We'll send him to Mr. Sawyer. Sawyer? In personnel. He's paid to examine employees, isn't he? And now, by the way, what do you think of this? What is it? A full-page ad. Macy's is running in tomorrow's news stations. Macy's is running it? But it's all about the other store, Jimmels and Santa. I know. I missed your Macy's idea to help our customers find what they weren't. Revolting, isn't it? That Santa Claus certainly has started something. What? Well, I'll get hold of him and his lunch hour and send him up to Mr. Sawyer. I changed my clothes, Mr. Sawyer, and came right out. Oh, then that's your own beard, eh? Oh, yes. Interesting complex and back of that. Why do you carry a cane? I always carry a cane, Mr. Sawyer. Well, that is when I wear street clothes. I carved this cane out of a runner from one of my old slaves. What's that? What would I find? Fine, solid silver top. Who was the first president of the United States? Oh, give me a difficult one. Like who was vice president under James Monroe? I am conducting this examination. Well, the answer is Daniel D. Tonkin. You're, uh, rather nervous now, Jimmels. You get enough sleep. My personal habits are no concern of yours. What hand am I holding up? Right hand. How many fingers do you see? Three. Oh, dear. And you bite your nails, too. Stand up. Feet together. Arms extended. Muscular coordination test? Oh, I've taken dozens of those tests. Mr. Sawyer, are you happy at home? That will be all, Mr. Cringle. The examination is over. Thank you. And it may interest you to know that I have been happily married for 22 years. Very happily married. Delighted to hear this. Goodbye, Mr. Sawyer. Ms. Tron. Yes, sir? Get Mrs. Walker on the phone. Yes, sir. But your wife, Mr. Sawyer, she's called four times already. Call her at Big Back Park to shut up and mind her own business. Walker, sir. Hello? I was just going to call you, Mr. Sawyer. There's a Dr. Pierce stopping by this afternoon at 3. Who is Dr. Pierce? She's the physician, Mr. Brooke Call. I thought we might discuss Mr. Cringle's case with him. There's hardly any point in discussing it, Mrs. Walker. Obviously, the old man should be discharged. Be dismissed immediately and sent to a mental institution. Oh, not just a moment, Mr. Sawyer. But he's eluded saying that he's Santa Claus. It's a solution for good. I've found he only wants to be friendly and helpful. The old man or suggest regressiveness. Look at the way he carries that cane. Mrs. Walker, naturally I can't discharge that lunis, so when he exhibits his maniacal tendencies, please realize the responsibility is completely yours. Well, and right back where I started. Mrs. Walker, I assure you Chris Cringle has no maniacal tendencies. But if there's the slightest possibility of causing any trouble, like what trouble? All we need is for a policeman to ask his name. He says, Chris Cringle and clang, clang, Macy's Santa Claus ends up in the psychopathic ward. Well, you can prevent that very simply. There must be someone here at the store who could rent him a room. Then they could both come to work together. I just assumed he avoided that long train ride to Long Island anyway. You mean, sort of take custody of him? Do you think Mr. Cringle would agree to that? Well, I'm sure you agree. Well, I'm not, Kate. Well, let's see. Who do I know who could rent him a room? I'm glad you're going to have dinner with us, Mr. Cringle. Oh, thank you, Suzy. I'm also very glad you're going to live next door with Mr. Galey. Why? Because you're nice to talk to. What a fine young man that Mr. Galey is. I just think. Allowing me to share his apartment near a mere stranger. You did it because Mother hinted to him. Well, anyway, I'm very grateful. So I tell you what I did in school today? All by all means. Any games? Yes, and a very silly game too. They played zoo and each child was supposed to be an animal. But Suzy, they were just pretending. That's what makes the game so silly. Of course, in order to play games, you need imagination. Well, that's when you see things, but they're not really there. Well, yeah. Yes, but to me, you know, imagination is a place all by itself. Now, you've heard of the French nation and the British nation. Well, this is the imagination. Very interesting place too. Yeah, how would you like to be able to make snowballs in summertime? Or to be the Statue of Liberty in the morning and in the afternoon, fly south at the clock of geese? I'm quite sure I'd like it, but... Oh, it's very simple. Anyway, the next time they play zoo, you can be a monkey. Well, I don't know how to be a monkey. Yeah, I'll show you. First, you bend over a little, like this, see? Now, let your arms hang loose, see, like this. Like this? Yeah, that's fine. Now, put your hand over here and start scratching, see? Oh, that's excellent, Susie. Yes, that's as fine a bit of scratching as I've ever seen. Now, now, Susie, now start chattering. Chattering? Mm-hmm. That's it, listen. See? That's it. And keep scratching, see? Now, we'll do it together, eh? Come on. Chatter and scratch and scratch and... That's fine, Susie. What is it? A page out of a magazine. Get the picture of a house. Oh, that's what you want, eh? A doll's house. Not a doll's house, a real house. A real house? Yes, and if you're really sad, I shouldn't get it for me. Now, now, now, wait a minute, excuse me. What could you possibly do? Living it with my mother. And the backyard was a great big tree to put a swing on. And the garden was up. Oh, well, why even discuss it? Oh, monkey. Good night, Mr. Gringo. Are you, uh... You like living here in the city? Oh, it's convenient. Someday I'd like to get a place in Long Island. Not a big house, just one of those junior partner deals. An old man has it. One of those little colonial houses, eh? Mm-hmm. Yeah, a little colonial house would be swell. Oh. You're, um... You're quite fond of Mrs. Walker, aren't you? A lot of good it does me. She lives in a castle. She's trying on a couple of lost souls. Turn out to like... Oh, let me cheat it out of this. All of my life I've wondered about it, and now I'm going to find out. Well, does Santa Claus speak? Mr. Macy, I've just heard something very exciting. The policy of being kind to customers has tripled. Beautiful, Mr. Macy. And Gimbles thinks it's wonderful, too. Gimbles. Gimbles are adopting the same policy. Well, is that so? And it gives me an idea. As long as Gimbles are doing the same thing, why not some pictures for new papers? Pictures? Yes. You and Mr. Gimbles shaking hands. Shaking hands? R.H. Macy and Gimbles? Well... Well, yes. Well, why not with Santa Claus? Oh, it's a great idea, Mrs. Walker. Macy and Gimbles shaking hands. Reminds me of going to get some really good pictures. I didn't think you were that generous. I'm anxious. That's quite a check. What are you going to do with Mr. Kringle? Well, need your new X-ray machine. I'll buy the machine through the store. Good job, gentlemen. Keep it up. At this rate, my friend will have a whole new... Turn off, Mr. Kringle. Oh, fine, Alfred. Fine. Well, not today, Chris. I don't feel so good. What's the matter, Alfred? Oh, nothing much. You remember I was telling you how I like to place Santa Claus over at the Y and give out packages to the kids? Yeah. Well, I was telling Mr. Sawyer about it, and he says that's very bad. Psychologically, it's all wrong. To be nice to children? Well, he says guys who place Santa Claus do it because when they were young, they must have done something bad. And now they do something I think is good to make up for. It's what he calls a guilt conflict. Uh, Alfred. What else have you found wrong with you? Oh, nothing much. Just that I hate my father. Oh. I didn't know it, but he says I do. Excuse me. Well, hey, ain't you gonna have lunch? Later. Right now, I have an appointment with Mr. Sawyer. I'm breaking into my office like this. Are you a licensed psychiatrist? What business is it of yours? I have a great respect for psychiatry and great contempt for meddling amateurs on practicing it. You shut up. You ought to be a horse bit, taking a boy like Alfred and filling him up with complexes and phobias and children. I think I am better equipped to judge that than you. Just because Alfred wants to be kind to children, you're telling me he has a guilt complex. Having the same delusion, you couldn't possibly understand. And don't you weigh that cane at me. Either you stop analyzing Alfred and I'll go straight to Mr. Macy and tell him what a contemptible fraud you are. You get out of here. Get out before I have you throw out. There's no one way to handle a man like you. Well, maybe this will knock some sense into you. Mr. Sawyer, oh, my head, my head. What's your name, Mr. Sawyer? Ms. Crom. Ms. Crom, get me the police. Get me Mrs. Walker. Get me the percopathic ward at Bellevue Hospital. Why didn't she come to me? Well, because she didn't want to hurt you. Temptable, dishonest, deceitful. Well, I don't want this happened to you. Matters to a lot of other people. People like me who believe in what you stand for and people like... well, like... Susie, we're just beginning. Chris, you're letting us down. Hey, now look, I won't let you down and you won't let me down. Chris, take it easy. Look, there'll have to be a hearing. If you're going to be committed, it's got to be before a judge. Well? Well, if I can do anything at all, it'll have to be in that courtroom. Sit tight, Chris. I'll get an idea. I'll have to. Certainly did, Mr. Paul's little bear. Mr. Kringle goes to court in the morning. I was speaking to the court clerk and he said you represent Mr. Kringle. I'd like to drop the hope. Now, you see, we are most anxious to avoid any publicity. No publicity? That's very interesting. Then you will cooperate. You know something, Mr. Sawyer. You have just given me the idea that I've been searching for. I'm going to win this case. I'm going to have to have public opinion and plenty of it. And publicity is just a way to do it. No, no. Mr. Galey. But Mr. Galey. There's doubt sanity of Santa who launched Goodwill Campaign. All right. Daily bulletin. May see Santa Claus to have lunacy hearing. What's this for? New York Express. By calamity. To drill in the United Nations, clear back to page five. But get a good night's sleep, Chris. We go before Judge Harper at 10 tomorrow morning. Hello, elderly gentleman named Chris Kringle has been working minor miracles as May see Santa Claus. But now, his sanity has been seriously questioned. And in a crowded courtroom, Judge Harper listens patiently as the assistant district attorney summons Chris to the witness stand. Now, this is not a trial, Mr. Kringle. It's tough to hearing, so you don't have to answer any questions. Now then, sir. Where do you live, please? Word. It seems to me that's what this hearing will decide, won't it? Uh, Mr. Kringle. Do you believe that you are Santa Claus? Of course I do. That's all, Your Honor. The state rests in this case. Well, Mr. Galey. Your Honor, Mr. Marrick intends my client is not sane because he believes he is Santa Claus. An entirely logical conclusion. Anyone who thinks he's Santa Claus is crazy. Your Honor, you believe yourself to be Judge Harper, yet no one questions your sanity because you are Judge Harper, do they? Mr. Kringle is the subject of this sanity hearing. Not I. Well, Your Honor, I intend to prove that Mr. Santa Claus... Mr. Marra, I thought you said this was a cup-and-dry sanity hearing while I thought it was, Your Honor. In view of Mr. Galey, I'll have to review... I'll have to retire back to Journal... Oh, I'm eating my dinner. Who's been subpoenaed? How do you think I feel about it? Yes, I'll see you tomorrow. Who is that, dear? R.H. Macy has been subpoenaed. Oh, my... What does it say? Make me look like a sadistic monster who likes nothing better than the drawn pussycats and tear wings off a butterfly. Quiet, dear. Tommy's still awake. Oh, oh, yes. Would break his heart if he knew what he's doing? I'm doing my job as assistant district attorney. Well, I'm not so sure, but I agree with him. Mr. Kringle looks like a very nice old man and I'll... I am not persecuting him. I'm prosecuting him, dear. I like who, but there's nothing I can do about it. You know something, Thomas? Sometimes I wish I'd married a plumber... Well, if I lose this carry-punch... R.H. Macy, huh? I wonder what he's going to pull tomorrow. Do the witness, Mr. Galey? Mr. Macy, do you believe him to be of sound mind? Sound mind? Mr. Macy, you are under oath. That man's Santa Claus. What did you say? I have no nothing in Santa Claus. The opinion he most certainly is. Execution requests an immediate ruling from this court. Is there or is there not a Santa Claus? Needed like you do now. This Kringle case, well, I certainly don't see what they're making such a fuss about. Henry, that's Santa Claus, you garant. Mrs. Dynamite, you're coming up for re-election. You know what happened last night? Martha brought the grain shield, eh? I wouldn't kiss her. She wouldn't even talk to me. If you were or you better start looking for that chicken farm right now. I'm a responsible judge. How can I seriously rule that there is a Santa Claus? Big cars up in the views. This is great, isn't it? They don't hang up their toys. They're supposed to be in those stockings. The toy manufacturers have to lay off them. By now, you've got the AF of Ellen to see again. It's rather than every street corner. And they're taking a lot of money to help the poor. But you go ahead, Henry. You go in there and rule that there isn't any Santa Claus. But if you do, you can count on getting just two votes. You're on and that district attorney's out there. One vote, Charlie. He's a Republican. So Santa Claus seems to be largely a matter of opinion. The tradition of American justice demands a broad and unprejudiced view of such a controversial matter. But your honor, this court therefore intends to keep its mind open. We shall ask for evidence on either side. But your honor, the burden of poop clearly rests with my opponent here. Can he produce any evidence to support his view? If you're our please, I can. Will Thomas Marra please take the stand? Who? Me? He and his mother are both in court. Do you believe in Santa Claus? I sure do. Gosh, he gave me a brand-new flag last year. Now, Tommy, what does Santa Claus look like? Because my papa told me so. Thank you, Tommy. Uh, yes, you certainly will. Once upon a Santa Claus, but in so conceding, we demand that Mr. Galey stop presenting personal opinions as evidence. The one and only Santa Claus. Well, Mr. Galey, are you prepared to show that Mr. Klingel is Santa Claus more than the basis of unprejudiced authority? Well, uh, I need a little time. Oh, why not now? Tomorrow, your honor. Very well. Course adjourned till tomorrow morning. Oh, brother. Dear, finish your supper. But I can't, mother. All these things are saying in the newspapers about Mr. Klingel and Mr. Galey. They're having this trial because he says he's Santa Claus. He's so kind and nice and jolly. He's not like anyone else I know. He must be Santa. You know something. I think perhaps you're right. Is Mr. Klingel sad now, mother? I'm afraid he must be. You know, write him a letter. Maybe that'll make him feel better. Maybe that'll cheer him up a little bit. Oh, postman. Postman! Hi, L.A. Would you mind taking this letter? Oh, sure, Lanny. We're going straight down to post office now. Okay, Lully, take it away. Hey, what do you know, Lully? You're not allowed to present a Claus. Hey, is there no one? The son of North Pole with kids got it addressed for Chris Klingel, New York County Courthouse. Well, the kid's right. Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. They got one trial down there. He claims he's panty-clothed and the D.A. claims he's nuts. Hey, hey, I got an idea. How many sinny clothes let us we cut down there with a dead litter wolf? Who knows? Maybe 50,000 bags and bags all over the joint. You mean a psyche? Why not? Wouldn't it be nice to get rid of them all? What? Boy, oh boy, look, Lully. Soon as we get to the post office, we're going to see the Supervisor. Hey, you know something? I thought we both get promoted. Since the defense has been unable to submit one shred of proof that Chris Klingel is the one and only Santa Claus, and since tonight is Christmas Eve, I ask your honor that this hearing be terminated without further delay. I protest. I do have evidence. Five minutes ago, you said you didn't. During Mr. Moura's oration, the bailiff handed my client the evidence I referred to. What evidence? This is Mr. Klingel, huh? Oh, yes? Mr. Klingel? It's from Susan Walker. She believes in me. This letter means more to me than anything in the world. That letter was delivered by the United States Post Office, an official agency of the federal government. The Post Office Department is one of the largest business concerns in the world. Last year, it did a growth volume of over $1 billion, and this year, your honor, I'm sure we're all gratified that the Post Office is getting along so well. But what spelling has it got to do on the sanity of that man? My point is that the Post Office Department is a model of efficiency. Furthermore, the laws of this country make it a criminal offense to willfully misdirect mail or intentionally deliver it to the wrong party. The State of New York is second to none in its admiration of the Post Office Department. We are very happy to concede Mr. Galey's claims for the record, Mr. Moura. For the record, anything to get on with is his. Thank you. Your honor, that letter just received by Mr. Klingel is positive proof that a copy of your honor's one letter is partly positive. I have further exhibits, your honor, but I hesitate to produce some. Come on, Mr. Galey, put them here on my desk, your honor. All right, sit, put them on my desk. All right, boys, bring them in. Your honor, your honor, what is this? FD those mail stacks on Judge Harper's desk. Yeah, but we got six troubles out there. Bring them in or be fined for contempt of court. No, no justice. We'll do it. We'll do it, your honor. Through rank, through slate, through courtroom, anything. We can hold her. Every one of those letters and every one of those mail stacks is addressed through Santa Claus. The Post Office has delivered them here. Therefore, the Post Office Department recognizes Chris Pringle to be the one and only Santa Claus. Since the United States government declared this man to be Santa Claus, this court will not dispute it. Hey, sirs, may I? If I haven't, they get this mail out of my courtroom. Straight to Mason to see you, Doris. Chris, I'm so glad you won. Thank you. Well, we're having a big Christmas party at the Brooks Home tomorrow morning. I'd like so much to see you and Susan there. We'll be there, Chris. Couldn't you, couldn't you come home now? Have dinner with us. Tonight? Me? Oh, my goodness, Doris. It's Christmas Eve. Alfred. Alfred, look. Look who came all the way out here to the home just for our Christmas party. Chris, it's Mr. Mason. Yes, it's Mr. Gimbo, too. Oh, excuse me, Alfred. Mrs. Walker and Susan have to leave now and I have to go. You've got so many presents. Not the one I wanted. Not the one Mr. Krill was going to get for me. Oh, what was it? It doesn't matter. I knew I wouldn't get it. But I thought you'd at least tell me why. Judy. I'm sorry, Judy. I tried my best. You couldn't get it because you're not Santa Claus. Susan. Just a nice old man like Mother said. But I was wrong when I told you that. You must believe in Mr. Crangle and keep right on doing it. You must have faith in him. That doesn't make sense, Mother. You must be believing in things when common sense tells you not to. But, Mother, you always said... Susan, that's because things don't turn out the way you want them to the first time. You've still got to believe in people. I saw... Hello, Doris. Fred. Mr. Gehry. Merry Christmas, Susie. Gosh, you just go and we're just ready to leave. Oh, I've been here and if you're ready to leave, I'll drive you home. So before you go here, here's a map I've made for you. You will miss a lot of traffic. About four miles south, you will see Ashley Avenue. That's the street you want. Ashley Avenue. Thanks, Chris. Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas to you, Fred. And to you, my dear. And to you, Susie. Mr. Crangle. I do believe. I do. It's silly, I suppose, but I do. I don't understand. It said the map Chris gave. It definitely says Ashley Avenue. You've been on Ashley Avenue now, Fred. Stop the car, stop the car, please. Susie, what is it, darling? What's the matter? There it is, the house, the house. Susie. Don't come to the world. She's running into that house. At least there's no one home. It's brand new. It's just been built. Oh, for sale. For sale? What on earth is that child up to? Susie. Hey, Susie. Well, come right down. You know you shouldn't run around in other people's houses. No. No, I mean this house. I've seen this house somewhere. I know I have. Maybe in a magazine. Mother, it's our house. It's the one I asked him for. Mr. Crangle. Mr. Crangle? I know it is. Oh, you were right, Mommy. You were right. Susie. Mommy told me if things didn't turn out just the way you wanted them at first, you still got to believe. And I kept believing, and you were right, Mommy. Mr. Crangle is Santa Claus. Now where are you going? In fact, it's just, there's a swing. There is one, Mommy. There is one. You told her that? I'm believing. Well, you told me, Fred. The sign outside the sale, hmm? Well, we can't let her down, can we? I never really doubted you. It's just my silly common sense. Oh, it even makes sense to believe in me now. I must be a pretty good lawyer. I take a little old man and legally prove to the world that he's Santa Claus. Now you know that. Fred. What? In the corner by the power train. Oh, no. No. It can't be. But it couldn't. A cane. Chris's cane? Well, there couldn't be two canes like this anywhere in the world. Two of a hand on all. Hey, you know something. Maybe I didn't do such a wonderful thing after all. Edmund Terry Gwebe. The third time you've been off Santa Claus, Terry. And it was delightful as ever. Well, one of my favorite parts, I mean, because every time I'm Santa, I get letters from those pretty lux girls. What's up? Right over here in the Gregor Shores, with Phil Conner as Fred, Harry Ionol as children, William Conner as Mara, Ollie Barr as Sawyer, Bill Boucher as Macy, Herb Potterfield as the judge, Eddie Vaughn's baby, Harry Shearer, Murray Jane Cough, Joe Forte, as the cautious, Jeff Lankin, Howard McNeer, Sam Edwards, Herb Beigren, and Eddie Maher. Original story by Valentine Davies. A radio play.