 The Cavalcade of America, presented by Dupont. It is Thanksgiving Eve and just the month before Christmas, the glad season of gifts and good time. One of chemistry's modern touches for the Yuletide celebration is the sparkling transparent wrapping material sold by the Dupont Company under the familiar red and blue trademark cellophane. The variety of novel ways you can wrap your Christmas presents by using cellophane cellulose film is practically unlimited and there's no better way to add your distinctive personal touch to everything you give. Dupont has printed up an attractive eight-page booklet called How to Do Gift Wrapping Magic with Cellophane. Illustrated in full color, giving clear and easy to follow directions for wrapping, this booklet also gives suggestions for making pom-poms and gay little Christmas trees from the transparent drinking straws called glasses. It describes ideas for the use of bright colorful ribbons and cord made of cellophane. In fact, it contains a lot of mighty useful information for any home at Christmas time. We shall be glad to send you a copy of this booklet, free of charge. Just mail your name and address to Dupont, Wilmington, Delaware. Ask for your free copy of Gift Wrapping Magic with Cellophane. This evening, the Dupont Cavalcade of America brings you the story of Sarah Josepha Hale, famous editor of Gaudi's Ladies' Book, and ardent advocate of feminine education, whose memory lives in the welfare and opportunities of women today. As an overture, Don Voorhees and the Dupont Cavalcade Orchestra play a special setting of Reginald de Coven's ever-popular, Oh Promise Me. The Dupont Cavalcade moves to pattern her life around the publication of a magazine, a publication which advocated advanced education for women, conducted departments devoted to fashion and domestic problems, and exerted a marked influence on the life of the times. One day in 1822, we find Sarah, at the age of 34, talking with her friend Mary in her home in Newport. And they say you're studying geology, Sarah, and mineralogy, whatever that is. Is it really true that you and David study every evening? We've studied almost every evening since first we've been married. It's been a rare experience for me, you may be sure. Rare experience? I should think so. And what a waste of time. What are you going to do with all that education now that you have it? I still feel that I have very little, but David is very patient with me. Oh, if I could only have gone to college with my brother. College? A woman at college? Sarah, aren't you afraid he'll find you unwomanly if you go on with his studies? Men don't like intellectual women. Really, they don't. Oh, Sarah, it'd be too terrible if you lost his love. If I lost his love, it would be through lack of intelligence, my dear, not because of it. I don't believe David finds me unwomanly. But with your mind full of things like that, how can you be domestic? I have four children, Mary, and soon they'll be a fifth. My home is well managed, my husband happy. That's enough domesticity for any woman. Does David think so? David wants me to study. I should never have gone on trying to write without him. I tell you, Sarah, you're making a mistake. People are kind about your eccentricity, but in their hearts everyone disapproves. It's vulgar for women to try to be intelligent as men are. And you, well, you are 34 years old, well past middle age. It's time you settled down and paid more attention to conventions. It's too late now, Mary. The harm is done. David and I both love it. Nothing on earth would persuade me to give up my evenings of reading with him. I've had my say. I must be going. Someone came in the front door. I didn't hear the knocker. I'll go. David, you frightened me. You're home early, aren't you? Yes, I'm not feeling very well. Oh, my dear, your cold is worse. Take off your coat. Oh, I'll be all right now that I'm home. Thank you, Sarah. Oh, good evening, Mary. Don't let me frighten you away. I was just going. David, you look as though you were burning up with a fever. Have you seen a doctor? No, I was going to stop and see Dr. Harrison, but I felt a little lightheaded so I decided to come right home. Well, I'm going to stop on my way to town and send him up. Oh, well, he'll think this is a judgment on me because I sleep with my bedroom windows open. He doesn't approve of foul night hair, you know. Neither does anyone else with common sense. The idea. Don't bother to come to the door. I'll stop him tomorrow and see how your patient's getting along. Try a red flannel. It's the best thing for that throat. Good night. Good night, Mary. Good night, and thank you. Dearest, will you go right up to bed? Let me rest here by the fire a little while first. Good to be home. The day doesn't really begin until you get here. Put your head on my shoulder. Mary's just been lecturing me about my scholastic attainment. She's afraid I'll lose you if I become too much of a blues stalking. Well, I hope you assured Mistress Mary that I think you have a fine mind and see no reason why you shouldn't use it. Well, darling, I still marvel that you feel that way. I'm very fortunate. David, do you suppose the day will ever come when all women will have opportunities for education? Well, most women don't want them. When they do, they'll have them. Oh, David, it isn't as easy as that. They need encouragement. I would never have gone on without you. Oh, David, life without you would... I couldn't go on living. Why, of course you could. You've got the children you know, and you're writing. Well, you could have a career. Anyhow, it won't matter without you. But you wouldn't be without me, darling. We can never really lose one another, can we? We never lose the things we've had, Sarah. I'd go right on being proud of you. You'd always remember that... Don't look like that. I'm not going to die, dearest. I've just got a cold in my head. We'll work tonight as usual. You can read to me, and I'll lie here. David... David, what is it? We're pain here in my chest. Oh, my dear. If you'll excuse me, I think I'd better go to bed after all. In a few days, David Hale died of pneumonia. Two weeks later, Sarah's fifth child was born. Her great desire was to educate her family, but for six years they could only struggle along in poverty. Then Mrs. Hale went to Boston to establish Ladies' Magazine, one of the first periodicals exclusively for women to be published in America. She was so successful that Louis Antoine Gaudi, starting his famous magazine called The Book in Philadelphia a few years later, determined to have her services. He finally secured them only by buying the magazine and combining the two publications. In the Office of Gaudi's Ladies' Book in September, 1840, Mr. Gaudi has just come in to offer his congratulations to Sarah for her work in stimulating interest in a recent public subscription drive. It is magnificent, Mrs. Hale, simply magnificent. $30,000 toward the Bunker Hill Monument Fund and every cent of it raised by women. I congratulate you. I do congratulate you. It was the first national organization of women in America, but it will not be the last. I always believed that it could be made an instrument for good. I'm happy to have had this opportunity to prove it. And prove it so sensibly, my dear Lady Editor. Never antagonizing men, never encouraging women to advance beyond their proper sphere or encroach upon masculine prerogatives. We offered our assistance as helpers only. The efforts of women should never degrade the characters of men. Your success greatly enhances the prestige of Gaudi's Ladies' Book. I'm glad to hear you say that, because I think the time has come for Gaudi's Ladies' Book to capitalize on its reputation and take a more aggressive stand. Aggressive? I don't understand. We are an institution. We should lay down definite editorial principles and then support them. Conditions in our country, especially among women, are deplorable. We should expose them. We should point out needed reforms and organize to bring them about. Oh, come, Mrs. Hale, we can't antagonize our public. We shan't antagonize them. We will enlist their aid. We'll be branded as reformers. It's impossible. Men will forbid their wives to read our magazine. Not if we direct our appeal to the men themselves. Men like you, Mr. Gaudi, who have vision and understanding. Oh, yes, I appreciate that point of view. If you advance the welfare of women, you advance the welfare of the race, Mr. Gaudi. That's a good general theory, but specifically... Specifically, there are certain fields of activity which women are particularly fitted to occupy. Most of them deny to her for two reasons. Lack of education and prejudice. And what are those fields? Well, we should have women teachers in our primary schools, Mr. Gaudi. It's a woman's province to instruct little children. Education shall be our great crusade, especially education for women. College? Mr. Gaudi, don't you think that the day will come when a woman will no longer be a female, but an individual? An educated womanhood can worth miracles in America. Always. The efforts of your men. This is a magazine for the home, Mrs. Hale. We must emphasize the interest within the home, not in the world outside. You must not belittle woman's real occupation. I'm not belittling it, Mr. Gaudi. We'll give homemaking the dignity of a profession. We'll make a science of it. We'll call it domestic science. Mrs. Hale, I have the greatest confidence in your judgment. But didn't we start this as a fashion magazine? We'll have fashion, but we'll have all the rest besides. We have fine authors, Mr. Gaudi. Edgar Allan Poe, Washington Irving, Ralph Waldo Emerson, James Ruffle Lowell. No other magazine has such a list, but we must stand for more, much more than mere entertainment. Our magazine must be a force, a force for the advancement of American women. And so for 40 years, Sarah Hale directed the destinies of Gaudi's ladies book. One of Mrs. Hale's great desires was her plan to make Thanksgiving Day, then observed individually by some of the states, a national holiday. One day in 1863, they arrived at the White House in Washington, a slender, black-clad figure. The President is expecting you, Mrs. Hale. Will you come this way? Mrs. Sarah, just see for Hale. How do you do, Mrs. Hale? Won't you sit here? Thank you, Mr. President. You've had a tiresome journey. I wish I might have welcomed you at the White House at the happier time. I shouldn't have thought of imposing upon your indulgence now, Mr. President. If I were not convinced of the tremendous importance of the cause I've come to plead, and your letters encouraged me. I've found our correspondence very interesting. Major General Hunter has developed the subject even further. Let me see. He's a relative of yours, is he not? His younger brother married my daughter. He's a good friend of mine. You've often spoken of your work. The influence Goody's book wields is amazing, Mrs. Hale. You've made it an American institution. You've tried to make our policy constructive. Sometimes it takes a long while. As in the case of the National Thanksgiving Day, you've come to discuss with me? I've only been actively campaigning for it in Goody's book for 17 years. But my interest in Thanksgiving Day goes back far beyond that. I seem to remember that in one of your first books, Northwood, you gave a whole chapter just to a Thanksgiving dinner. Yes. Yes, I did, Mr. President. The sentimental value of the day seems very important to me. It's being observed very generally, Mrs. Hale. I realize that, Mr. President. But every state, every community even, is observing it independently. Think what it would mean, Mr. President, if 23 million Americans could in their hearts give thanks at the same time for the blessings we've received. You think the people could be stirred to a sense of thankfulness even in these times? Yes. Yes, I do, Mr. President. I still believe a nationalized Thanksgiving might have been a great factor in averting this disunion. There's no greater bond than rejoicing together over a common good. And America has so much to be thankful for. You realize that such a national proclamation will have certain opposition? A national Thanksgiving would be a renewed pledge of love and loyalty, Mr. President. If only all the states would join, would lay down their arms and forget their hate and their bitterness for one day. Ah, if they only would. Oh, Mr. President. Is it not worth trying? It might point a path to peace. We shall see. Mr. President, do you mean... I mean that cellars of Super Hale and her Godi's Ladies' Book have succeeded in one more campaign. Mrs. Hale, you have convinced me. I shall issue a national Thanksgiving proclamation. And so, Sarah Josepha Hale, with Lincoln's help, gave us National Thanksgiving Day. Godi's continued to point out to its 150,000 subscribers that knowledge was power and power which should be given to women as well as to men. The lady editor toiled unceasingly, but she found time to write other books and poems as well. She published Woman's Record, an amazing survey of women's work until 1850. She fulfilled her great desire to educate her children. For the remainder of her life, she labored for the advancement of American women. Mrs. Hale was 90 years old when Godi's Ladies' Book was sold. In the hunter home where we find her living with her daughter and her grandchildren, her family gathers about her on Sunday evening. Let's sing another one. No, Grandmother will be in the moment. Where is she? She stopped to tell Hannah Murray what a fine supper it was. Perhaps she'll read a story to us. I'd rather she were sad and merely have a little lamb. Would you know that by heart? What do you want to hear it again for? Because she wrote it and it's my favorite poem. Maybe she has something new to read to us. She may be a little sad tonight. Perhaps she won't feel like reading. Because of the book being sold, you mean? Yes. It'll seem strange not to go to the office for her anymore after all these years. Why isn't she going to edit the book anymore? Well, she's 90 years old, dear. She isn't old. No, darling. But by that time, one deserves a rest. But her hair isn't even gray. Her curls are as brown as mine. Yes, and her eyes are just as bright. What's this you're saying about? Sit here, Grandmother. Thank you, Charles. Why, the children were saying that you were one person who would never grow old, Mother. Do we all agree? I wrote a poem about that once. It was the day I was 70. People tried to make me feel I was old even then. But I've had 20 more rich old years. Pass the poem, Grandmother. It was called growing old. It went this way. Growing old, growing old. Can it ever be true? While joy for life's blessing is thankful and warm, and hopes sown for others are blooming anew, and the rainbow of promise bends over the storm. That's nice hope sown for others. Remember that, dear? What does it mean? Oh, it's a sort of charm. Something to help us to be thoughtful of others. Do all your poems have charms in them? That's what you said about Mary had a little lamb. What did I say, dear? You said the last part was a charm to make animals love you. Don't you remember the verse about, What makes the lamb love Mary so? The eager children cry. Oh, Mary loves the lamb. You know the teacher did reply. And you each gentle animal and confidence may bind, and make them follow at your call if you are only kind. I like that charm best. Yes, it's a little more suited to your needs right now, my dear. It'll be a long while before you appreciate the other one. Come, baby, I see nurse looking for you. I've got to go now. Kiss me good night. Good night, my darling. We must all be off and give you a little quiet before bedtime. Good night, grandmother. Good night. Good night. Good night, my dear. Good night. Anything for Richard to do tonight, mother? I finished my farewell editorial yesterday. He may take it into the office in the morning. The lady editor of Goday's book has penned her last official line. Now, mother, you must not grieve. Why would I grieve? Many tasks once lay before me. Now, they're finished. You've done so much. I have accomplished most of the desires nearest my heart. Francis, what is it, mother? I've not often spoken of your father, have I? Not very frequently. To dwell on David's virtues always made me fear to be sought fame. But for 56 years, he's never been absent from my thoughts. 56 years. It's been a long time. You've been so wonderful, dear. How proud he would have been of you. Proud? David? Yes. I'm too old to have my head turned now, Francis. Where are my books and papers? Here they are, dear. Now, don't read too long. Are you comfortable? Yeah, perfect. Well, I look in again on you before you go to bed. Good night, dear. Good night, my dear. David. Dear, David. I know you are pleased. April 30th, 1879. Sarah slipped away to join David, leaving behind her in her own words. Half a century of work for the furtherance of the happiness and usefulness of her countrywomen. Work which has resulted in a diversified employment of over one-fifth of the women of the United States today. An ideal which has seen fulfillment in the nationalization of our Thanksgiving Day celebration. DuPont salutes Sarah Josefa Hale as an inspiring figure in the cavalcade of America. Have you ever heard of depression, babies? Business generally slows down during a depression. Everyone tries to reduce expenses. But there was one activity which did not slow down, which was carried on without any let-up during the last depression. That was the DuPont Company's program of chemical research. And from this research uninterrupted by the darkest depression days, DuPont developed new products and improved many existing ones. Someone has called these products depression babies. What are they? One of them is Dulux Finish, that remarkable new type finishing material used today on refrigerators, automobiles, streamlined trains, and ocean liners. Another depression baby is Neoprene, DuPont's chloroprene rubber, a man-made product that is superior to natural rubber for many uses. Other DuPont depression babies are synthetic camphor, new dyes, an improved X-ray film, and new bases for my ladies' perfume. As you can see from this list, some of these products take the place of materials which formerly had to be imported. The manufacture of these products in this country helps build entirely new American industries, giving employment to our citizens. Today these depression babies have already grown up to be useful economic citizens, doing their share to defeat the very business depression which saw their birth. Throughout the 135 years of the DuPont Company's existence, this has been and continues to be the DuPont policy to build for the future, to carry on research in good times or bad. Constant progress of this sort is what DuPont means by its pledge better things for better living through chemistry. May we remind you that you can secure free of charge a copy of the booklet How to do gift wrapping magic with cellophane. Just send your name and address to DuPont, Wilmington, Delaware. And remember to tune in next Wednesday for the story of Ocklar Mergenthaler, the inventor of the linotype, when the DuPont Company will again present The Cavalcade of America. Columbia Broadcasting System