 The Cavalcade of America, presented by DuPont. The speed of airplanes and the speed of ocean liner, the speed of express trains and the speed of automobiles, the speed of the telegraph, the telephone, the radio, all the flashing dynamic force in modern communication and transportation is part of the American heritage of foresight and enterprise. One of the most thrilling manifestations of this heritage occurred about the middle of the last century when, captained by young men, the American clipperships carried the American flag, American commerce and ideas, to every port in the seven seas. At our overdure, Don Boyes and the DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra play a special setting of the hit tune, Deep Purple. Our story begins one evening about 1855, in an old house on the main coast. Whale oil lamp shed a middle light over the room, throwing it a sharp relief, the carved walrus tusks and coconut shells on the wasp knot. Catching the color of a Spanish shawl on the back of a chair, revealing a faded Indian print, slung over a sea chest in the corner. Nine o'clock, Peter. Where are you supposed your sigh is? Probably down at the dock. We should have sailed with the tide this evening, Martha. I can't see any reason for delaying any longer. I must have had good reasons. Maybe. He's so young, Peter. He's 22. I took my first ship out when I was 20. Here you are, Mother. Good evening, Father. Father, we're now cutting over the stores. That ship says trim as a mackerel. Why didn't you sail with the evening tide, son? Emily wasn't ready. A few hours wouldn't matter anyway. Time always matters in the China save. Time is money. This is your first voyage as a master, son. Time you learned. I know, but Emily had a few things to do before we sailed. We're ready now. We'll get on the way, biting early tomorrow. All right. But remember, Josiah, you've got to beat the flying scuds. Yes. The Williams boat. Good ship. Maybe. But you've got to make a better passage. You can't afford to let her beat you to Hong Kong. She'll have the first choice of market there. And if she makes a faster passage home, she'll do the same here. We can't afford to let that happen. Is there any special reason why? I mean, aside from our investment. Well, yes, there is. Sort of. I thought so. I bragged about you, son. Oh, I guess you bragged to Williams. Well, how much did you bet I'd make a faster passage out in home than his flying scud? Come by. How much? Ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand. Pinto, father. No way, mother. Father, my share in the stars and stripes is worth more than ten thousand. Yes, I know it is. But what about it? I'll just take half that bet. Next morning as the sun rose out of the sea and the harbor of the little main town sparkled in a lazy couple of whitecaps, on the quarter deck of a safety ship stands the uncaptain. Hi, Franklin, sir. How are you, Mr. Jones? I'll thank you and get on the way. Hi, sir. Now then, boys, keep away from the windless brakes and strike a light. I'll earn an old graveyard. Wait a second. Hey, good, Mr. Jones. Loose tail is four and a half. Hi, sir. Hello, there's somebody in Loose tail. On the fourth top of the yard there. Get that gasket out, picture scum. Pass to the drift, you'll have air. Get your watch stackers along to the top of the sheet. Hi, sir. Here are some of your gentlemen's sons in disguise. Get that fish dab it out. Hook on the pendant. Overhaul the tackle down ready for hooking on. Main till you are there. Don't make those gaskets up. Pitch them in along the aisle and make past the time. Here you shat them on all of your boots. Shuffle that main deck captain and strike a light. And best in your locker. Slowly cutting its ways through the fretting waters of the harbor. The stars and stripes with billowing sails. Bides out to sea and down the Atlantic coast. Its sleek black hulls, its pine decks, wholly stoned to dazzling white. Its five rails, stanchions and cabins of mahogany brass and rosewood gleamed in the morning sunlight. And as the days pass... I wonder where the plan's gut is now. I hope she's leagues behind us, Emily. Remember when we sat at her a week ago? We were ahead of her then. Now that we've lost her, you can't tell. Look, Josh. I can't hear you, Mr. Devil. I'm going to make a team and out of you, I have to take a road stand to do it. Have a long, yeah? It's the boatman with the ship's boy. He's got him by the neck. What's he doing, Josh? Well, just teaching him the ropes, I guess. He won't hurt him. Ah, Mr. Boatsman! They go my neck! You're breaking it! That's why I get for having such a scrawny neck. Now, name the sails beginning at the top. Ah! Sky-toe, royal, top-toe and top-toe. And on the formus, it's a foretoe. And on the main, it's a mainsail. But on the missing, it's a spanker. Why is that, sir? What do you carry after yourself, your landlock reasons? Ah! Name the sails and the boats, please. Ah! Flying gibs, out-of-gib and in-of-gibs, sir. Aye. What comes between the bow and the formus? Ah! Ah! Ah! The foretoe is fatal. Seek me, I was going to have your boys for supper if you miss that one. Get out with him before I change my mind. Wait a minute. Say your cataclysm before you go. Lively now. Six states out thou labor and do all thou art able. And on the seventh, holy cell in the decks and scrape the cable. Call me a portigee, but I'll make a steeman out of you yet. Aye, aye, sir. He'll make you a good handbow some pair of smart boy captains. Shout for the pipe of notes. Well, sir, how do you make that boy remember all that? Er, well, ma'am, you might say that's where the spanker comes in. Days of white sails and flying clouds with gusts of salt spray, panning in sheets of sunlit mist off the great prowl of the clipper ship. Night in tropic waters. When its towering mass seemed to rake through the low torch-like stars. And the wind sang over the sea as the jib-boom creaked with the roll of the waves. Then gray days and wild nights. Ice and snow and fog. As the clipper careened to the west as it swept around the bottom of the western hemisphere as it rounded the horns. One day in the captain's cabin. That's your daily concert, Captain Blake. Wives on board are so very dreadful of it. No. Not when they're you. Josh, what a very pretty seat. I thank you, sir. We'll ship for a little more steady-eyed kids. I'm proud of you, Emily. Rounding the horns is not easy. I wonder if we're here before the flying scud. Don't wonder about it, Josh. We can't know anyway until we get to Hong Kong. Darling. Yes? You're sure you're making it all right? Of course I am, Josh. And then it'll be warmer soon, won't it? You bet it will. Too warm. When we start to beat up north through the Pacific you'd wish you had some of this ice aboard. It's easy enough for me, but sometimes I think of the men. They can sail when the sheets are still with ice. The bloody fingers. I've seen them. It's their life. They chose it. And it's their duty. You've been hearing things, Emily? A little. Don't pay attention to it. Yes? Come in, Mr. Jones. What are you doing here? Let's check out behind you. Well, come speak up, sir. Go to the boy. Tommy, speak your piece. Please, sir. I was in one of the upper bunks in the poxel and I heard the men... Talk, cat-pole. Talk. Well, sir, it's the grub. Save vittles to Captain Blake. Let him in, Mr. Jones. What about the grub, Tommy? They say it's bad. Oh, bad is it, sir. If you give them angel cake they'd expect wings. Please, sir. They're sending a deputation. A deputation? Some sea lion put them up to that, all right? You've done your duty, Tommy. You stay here with Mrs. Blake. Mr. Jones, you come with me. Aye, sir. Well, Josh, you may need this. Here, take it. No, Emily. I don't need a pistol. When I can't handle a crew with my bare hands, I'll quit. And take to go on cabbages. Come, Mr. Jones. We'll go on deck. Get a Marlon Spike, be quiet. Now, men, watch this I hear about a deputation. Come on. Speak up, Joe Braun. I've had an eye on you, my lad. Well, sir, as long as I'm the one that's going to be picked on, I will speak up. Sir, the grub's rotten. The meat smells so I can hardly eat it. And the biscuits full of worms. That kind of food ain't fit for no Christian. The rest of you men feel this way. Like brown here? The grub's rotten. The cabin gets what decent food's aboard. Mule, mealy, mouse, sea lion. It's a lie. I pay for the cabin food out of my own pocket. And that's my business. I got a right to say what I please. Right? Right? You're a pretty seamen to talk about, right? You're a rotten bully, you pampered scum. Say that again. Struck me. I'll have the law on you in the first part. Good. I'll make it with you while. But as long as I'm in command of this ship, I'm the law. And you all know it. Onward and up through the blue Pacific spread the great ship. Full sail before the wind. Under clear skies and the brilliance of warm sunlight, week after week, flipped by. But one afternoon, we're almost at the China coast, Emily. Why don't you answer? What's the matter, girl? I don't know, Josh. It's just these last few days. Maybe it's the heat. The sun's so hot here by the rail, yet it's pale, not bright. I know. It's bad. You don't much like it. It's all you see. It's like a strip of silk waving in chimeras. And there's many air I can't breathe. I don't like those cloud banks to the north. You seem almost alive. They look like some great mountains. Go below, Emily. I'll join you when I can. But it's so hot below. I'll bury you, Skipper girl. There's reason for it. I know there is. I'll go. Mr. John. Aye, sir. Take in sail. Keep an upper law for steerageway. Aye, sir. Come on, wipe all hands on deck to take in sail. Come to it lively. Think it's a hurricane, sir. Looks like it. Night time. Right place. Just a luck to run into a hurricane when we're trying to beat the flying scud. Keep it sharp, aye, Mr. John. I'm going below for a moment. Aye, sir. Here you, gentlemen. Strike a light. Hands for the hangers. Top gallon cells. Stand by to reach top cells. Come, come. Still in y'all. Very soon. Don't be afraid, John. Don't know all I can. Can't go any faster. Here, let me fix a pillar behind your head. Don't leave me, John. All right. We're in for it. I've got to go on deck. Sorry. Help me, sir. John, I've got to go. Now leave me on deck. I need to tell you. Oh, John, and couldn't you bear a pair with people? Emily, the ship, you, everybody, is in my hand. And I'm in God's hand. You'll pay. Pray for all of us. I've been shivered in the driving gale. The clipper ship plowed its way through the slashing sea toward the China coast. Overhead, the dark sky's roar, ignited by speaking lightning, and the wind howled through the shrouds of its swaying mass. Late that night, the hurricane subsided. And some days later, feeling a little better, Emily? It's a warm and calm I thought the air on deck might do you good. Where is he? Fast asleep in that little crib you made in the cabin. Oh, Josh, he's so cute. I'll bet he's just as stubborn as you are. Oh. We should be seeing China off port most any time now. Well, that's for a while. I'm tired of the sea, the wind, the waves. It's so relentless. I'm a person. It almost looks like Pogway off to port. That's land. That's China, darling. The clipper ship blew toward the south China coast with its granite rocks and broken shorelines and into the tropical harbor of Hong Kong. Here at glass, the stars and stripes zipped quietly and dropped down. Josiah Blake and his wife carrying their baby go ashore immediately to the noisy hubbub of the dock, jammed with an excited, clamorous throng. This way, Emily. Come on. Don't let go of my hand. I won't, Josh. Hi, Mr. Hall. Hi, Mr. Hall. Over here. There you are. I'm glad to see you, Captain. Have a good one. Good one, Harrikin, that's all. Hey, but tell me, has the flying skud come in yet? Haven't seen that of her. She's not due yet. Then we've won the first lap, Emily. Oh, Josh. Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Hall. This is my wife. I'll do, Mom. And our baby, too. She was born at sea, Mr. Hall. Well, I hope he'll make as good a skipper as his father. Certainly had a good start. I hope he can find a mission somewhere. We've got to have the baby back side. Well, that'll come, Lady Emily. First, I've got to get over to the market. I'm going at once. You are not. You're going to bring your wife up to my house. I want you to be my guest while you're in Hong Kong. Well, we can't stay long. We've got to be heading back to the States. Emily, you can go ahead with Mr. Hall. I'll come right over from the market. Now, Mr. Hall, would you please have the office? Within a few days, her hold filled with cargo exchanged in the market of Hong Kong, the American slipper again weighed anchor for the homeward voyage. At first, the soft, wondrous, traffic nights and the long listless days. Until the gale and ice of Cape Horn last the day and the stars and strikes pointed its boughs with north. Then again up through the blue rolling waters of the southern Atlantic. And when the red sun tipped the western horizon, then were trawled tales told by the seamen who gathered to watch Emily rock our baby in a tiny hammock. I'm sure it is a fine lad, that baby man. Well, he crossed the line once already. Now, wait until he sees the sea serpent. Did you ever see him broken? Oh, ma'am. And did I not? Just 20 years ago, a week on this Thursday, when I was able seamen on the conquest running at which New York and Liverpool. Well, ma'am, just off the Azores. Oh, it was a starry night. When I was on the watch, I smelt as a curious smell. Oh, what was it like? Well, one might say, ma'am, that it was a sort of a mixture. A mixture of elephant and whale. And then what happened? It was off the starboard bow. And when it looks like she's a great head, rise again to move. Two horns it had, and a neck as long as our main mist. Well, I rubbed me ice, and then I see the rest of him. A rippling and a floating out behind for half a mile or more. Oh, ma'am, it was handsome. But weren't you frightened? Ma'am, I'd be truthful. I was uneasy. On it comes nearer and nearer with his great mouth wide open. I was the only one of the crew on deck, except him at the wheel. And I knew that one of us was lost. The starboard was hungry. And why would he come up from his home in the great deep except to look for food? Oh, there, ma'am. Go back to sleep, darling. The person, what did you do? Well, just swing the little hammock gently, ma'am. That's it. Ah, he's doing nicely now. What did I do? Oh, yes, yes. I chased the wheel myself. And I chased the man with hazard. Tell me since I go into the moonlight by the starboard rails and tell me what you see. Why did you do that, person? Ma'am, this gemmy was a fearful, ugly man. Monkey face gem they called him and it was an insult to any self-respecting monkey. He sighed, one look at gemmy and that their serpent will lose his appetite. And did he? Ma'am, I'll be frank and truthful. He did. One look at gemmy did that serpent give and then he let out a dreadful moan put his head under the water and seeked himself down. And he never saw the gem again. No, ma'am. He wouldn't try to deceive you. I did not. Oh, here comes the skipper. I'll be going along, ma'am. Borson's been spinning yarns. Are you on the baby Emily? Yes, all about the ski, sir. And monkey face gemmy? Oh, I know that one. Borson's full of yarns. Whoa, the maker! The flyin' skud! High pound all sale, Mr. Jones. Pass the word around there'll be an extra bonus for every man on board. Have we leave the flyin' skud so far, sir? He doesn't sight us before we make course. It was nip and tuck between the two great American clipperships as they raced across the rolling seas back to Maine. And it was a thrilling spectacle of expert seamen ships and beautiful vessels that characterized this romantic era in our maritime history. Finally late one afternoon as the steeple bells peeled over the little Maine harbor, the two stately greyhounds of the ocean with their white sails arched in the wind, dove into sight. But it was captain-braked on the stars and stripes that came first into force. Good work, Josiah! Fine, I'm proud of you, boys. Proud of the steeple two tails. Ninety days out since 88 days with us. Gotta find cargo, too, Father. And you, Emily. You and Josiah have to go beyond that. Made a couple of grandparents out of us. Look, Martha, I think you look like me. Well, I can hope not. And maybe again, let me hold it. All right, Emma. You wanna collect your bet from Williams, Father? Five thousand of it's yours, any house. And with the other five, I'm makin' over shares of a thousand stripes from my grandson here. Oh, you're here, that's masterbly. He can't talk to us, so I'll thank you for him, Father. Come on, let's go up to the house. You can tell us all about the vibe. Well, Father, gorgeous door. It's pretty quiet. Nothing much happened. South Maine to Hong Kong and from Boston to California. New York to Sydney and Baltimore to Cape Town. So, during that colorful era, sailed the safety clippers with wet salt on their sails, their holes full of grain and gold, spices, tilts and teeth. And so it was that the greatest fleet of sailing vessels the world has ever seen carried the American flag in American commerce in the way of every port of the oceans of the world. The American Clipper Ship. And now, here's Basil Riesdale, speaking to the DuPont Company, with a story from the Wonder World of Chemistry. Have you ever had a longing to see the queer sites in distant corners of the world to sail your own snug little craft into the harbors of Singapore, Sydney, Cape Town and Constantinople, with a favoring breeze to coast past towering sugarloaf as you make for Rio de Janeiro? To fascinating ports like those, our story of chemistry takes us tonight aboard the trim white two-masted schooner Yankee, famous for two round-the-world trips with amateur crews of adventurers and due for another such trip this year. In many an out-of-the-way harbor, queer craft have swarmed about the Yankee and natives have touched her sleek, glistening hull, jabbering strange words of admiration. For part of the beauty of this smart schooner is the new Marine Dulux finish, a finish that keeps it sparkling white in spite of the hardware given by ocean waves, salt spray and harbor gases. And Dulux, born in DuPont Research Laboratories, is one of chemistry's recent contributions to better living, not merely a finish for ships that sail the Seven Seas, whether they be huge ocean liners or tiny pleasure craft, but also for homes like yours and mine. In fact, the whole story of modern paints and finishes is one that does credit to the chemist skill in patient research. You've heard of wheat farms and potato farms. Have you ever heard of DuPont paint farms? Let me describe one to you. Maybe you'll recognize it when you're out motoring. In a large field stand rows and rows of panels fixed on frames in a sliding position. One of these paint farms contains about 30,000 panels, each of them coated with a paint or finish. White, red, black, green, yellow, such a variety of hues that Joseph's coat of many colors would look drab beside them. Probably 15,000 different variations of formula and color are tested there at one time. Exposed to burning sun, driving rain, snow and ice and wind-driven dust. Careful records are kept, and each finish has to be good enough to beat Mother Nature's her worst before it's considered good enough for your house, your refrigerator, your furniture, your automobile, and scores of other things you use daily. And since paint has to meet climatic conditions in all parts of the United States, one paint farm isn't enough. DuPont has nine of them scattered in widely separated parts of the country, California to Michigan. They even have a paint farm on a rooftop in a big city. Yes, paint. Such a common material you seldom give it a thought, but without paint, wood would rot, iron would rust, and man's handiwork wouldn't last very long. It helps make the world a cleaner place to live in and adds the joy of color. What the research chemist has done to improve paint is well expressed by the DuPont pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. Next week, the Cavalcade of America presents a colorful story about the great Indian Empire of the Yerichwa Longhouse. So until next week, and at the same time, this is Thomas Chalmers saying good night and best wishes from DuPont. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.