 The Yellow Program starring Jack Benny with Johnny Green in his orchestra. The orchestra opens the program with, It's No Fun. All over the country today, lovely ladies have been parading their latest spring finery. It's one of the highlights of Easter, this display of new fashions, this brilliant array of colors, but in all their springtime brightness, the colors of Easter cannot surpass the glowing colors of Jell-O. However, Jell-O is much more than just a gay, good-looking dessert. It's a downright delicious one as well. It was always delightful, but nowadays Jell-O tastes twice as good as ever before. That real fruit flavor is put there by a modern secret process and sealed right in so that it can't get out. That's why every one of Jell-O's six grand flavors has the keen, refreshing goodness of fresh ripe fruit. No other Jell-Oton dessert can equal Jell-O's extra-rich fruit flavor, so accept no substitutes. Always ask for Jell-O by name. Always insist on the one and only genuine Jell-O. Now we bring to you from Cleveland the pride of Waukegan, the idol of California, Ohio's favorite son, Jack Benny of New York. Well, Jell-O again. This is Jack Benny coming to you from all over the country. Listen, Don, as long as we're here in Cleveland, why did you let on that I come from New York? Well, don't you? Yes, Don, but I had a swell gag all worked out about Cleveland. You nearly spoiled it. Oh, I'm sorry, Jack. Look, Don, now look, there's a famous street here called Euclid Avenue. It's known all over the country. Euclid Avenue, eh? Yeah, now you ask me how I like Cleveland. Go ahead. How do you like Cleveland? Well, Don, I love my wife, but oh, Euclid. Oh, boy. Oh, boy. Boy, am I hot tonight. Yes, sir, are you killing you? Well, anyway, folks, we're here in Cleveland and having a great time. Oh, by the way, Jack, how are you doing at Low State Theater this week? How am I doing? Why? Don, haven't you read the reviews? The notices? They're terrific. Look, I just happen to have this write-up. I usually throw them away, you know. Where is it? Right here, pinned to my pocket. Well, let's see it. Oh, it's nothing much, Don, the usual stuff. Here, read it. Oh, yes. This week, Low State Theater offers the outstanding show of the season. On the screen, Myrna Loy gives a magnificent performance in that sparkling romantic film Petticoat Fever. Read on, Don. However, for sophisticated comedy, debonair personality, and gay nonchalance... That's nonchalance, Don. Gay nonchalance. We also have that smooth, suave comedian, Robert Montgomery. They read on, Don. The stage show this week includes the lyazede Arabs, the Stuart Morgan dancers, and a man with a violin. That's me. That's me. Trascolatious, Jack. Oh, Don, it's the same everywhere I go. It means nothing. Hello, Jack. Oh, hello, Mary. I was just showing Don the write-up I got in the paper, you know. Can I have it, Jack? I want to give it to my father. Why? He's got a hole in his shoe. Oh, yeah. Well, my shoes come first. Hey, Mary, you should read that write-up. Well, what's so funny about it? It's a knockout. Yeah. Oh, yeah. You leave Jack alone. He's got more talent in his little finger than you'll ever have. I don't believe it. Either do I, but that's what he told me. Had a girl, Mary. Shut up. Oh. It's a nice way to talk on Easter Sunday. But you look swell, Mary. Is that a new spring outfit? Uh-huh. Do you like it? I sure do. Who gave it to you? You did. I did say that was darn sweet of me. Did I give you anything else? I haven't decided yet. Oh. Well, if I do, let me know, won't you? Oh, sure. Hello, Jack. Here I am, large as life, and twice as tempting. Well, hello, Kenny. Say, where's your Easter outfit? Oh, I'm wearing it. You look the same to me, Mary. Do you notice any change in Kenny? Sure, he had his hat lost. Oh, yes. Now I notice it. Look, Mary's got a flower in his buttonhole, too. Get it? Is that what it is? Yeah. Is that funny looking? What is it, Kenny, a violet or a carnation? Oh, I don't know. It fell off a lady's hat. Well, anyway, Kenny, you look fine. You're some dresser. Oh, thanks, Jack. You know, you wear it well. Close yourself. Oh, I don't know. Of course, I do pride myself on the way I take care of my food, Jim. That suit looks like you forgot to take it off the hanger. Yeah, you nearly killed that joke, didn't you? Oh, well, anyway, folks, it's Easter. And I want to tell you, it's nice to see people out in their new spring finery, new hats, new dresses, new suits. And don't forget Jello's new, extra rich, fresh fruit flavor. Remember, it tastes twice as good as ever before. Well, that's a nice Easter greeting. Hey, Jack, that reminds me. I wrote a poem about Easter. Mary, will you stop writing those poems? That's the only trouble with this program. Well, just listen to this one. All right, all right. Easter's here, but once a year, even as you and I. A rag, a bone, and a hank of hair. A laugh, a pier, a chop. Well. Easter bought us soon a pier in the rain or fall. Pleasure. That was Mary Livingston by Johnny Green and his orchestra. That's the last poem I'll ever write. Anyway, that was Goodie Goodie, played by Johnny Johnny. But really, that was swell. I don't know, Johnny. You know, your music does something to me. Oh, I'm sorry, Jack. Oh, I didn't mean it that way. You know, Johnny, there's something about you when you stand there leading that orchestra that, oh, I don't know. There's a word that fits you. And I just can't think of it. It's, uh, uh. How about genius? Well, that's cute. Yeah, but I really had another word in mind, but genius will do. I mean. Mary, what are you laughing at? Imagine a genius with a haircut. Mary, listen, don't forget the struggle behind Johnny's musical education. Night after night with the wind howling and tearing at his clothes, he trudged six miles through blinding snow just to get to his piano teacher's house. Is that right, Johnny? No, he came to our house. Well, you don't know the struggle that piano teacher went through. After each lesson, fighting every inch of his way back through six miles of blizzard and snow, didn't he, Johnny? No. Well, anyway, Johnny, you deserve your success. Oh, thanks, Jack. You're right. It's all right, Johnny. You're green. I'm Livingston, monkey with ass. Well, that finishes this routine. Hey, Johnny, how do you like Cleveland? Are you having any fun here? Oh, sure, Jack. I have lots of friends in town and relatives, too. Oh, yeah. By the way, where are you stopping? Stopping? Oh, I got a little room at the Sadler. It's nothing pretentious, but it's comfortable, you know. After all, I just sleep there. Where are you living, Johnny? Oh, I'm there, too. Of course, I've got quite a large room. Well, you've got quite a large orchestra. I mean, how do you all get in there? We checked the drums downstairs. Oh, you could have checked that joke downstairs, too. Hey, Jack, I have some relatives here who are great friends of yours, and I'd like you to meet them right after the broadcast. You mind? Oh, of course not, Johnny. I'll be glad to. Are they distant relatives? No, they're right outside. You could have checked that one, too. Yes. And now, ladies and gentlemen, that tonight, we are going to offer you a real treat. You remember in the past, we gave you the best place that money could pass by. We gave you Noel Coward, George Bernard Shaw, and we have also given you the works of Shakespeare. Well, maybe not Shakespeare, but we have given you the works. And this evening, ladies and gentlemen, we are going to present Eugene O'Neill's stage and screen primes, Our Wilderness, with a cast that needs no introduction. I, Jack Lionel Benimore, will play the part of the father. Miss Mary Livingston, who used to live near Catherine Cornell, will play the part of the mother. While Kenny Baker, who was once hit by Clark Gable's car, will play the part of the son. Don, do you like the part of the uncle played by Wallace Berry? Yes, and I like strawberry, raspberry, cherry, orange, lemon, lime. Just for that, you can't be in it. Oh, Mary, while Kenny is singing his number, you better rehearse a little bit. You know, that's a pretty important part you've got there. Oh, yeah? I don't need rehearsing. I was in a stock company for the past three months at the Princess Theater in New York. Mary, the Princess Theater has been closed for two years. Oh, no wonder I didn't get any applause. Well, anyway, folks, tonight we are presenting Our Wilderness. The scene is the home of the Benny, the time right after Kenny Baker's song. Oh, by the way, Kenny, do you think you can play the part of? I don't know, but I'll try. Hmm, sing, Kenny. Let me raw my heart at home in the night, at home to men, cattle to tents, landing to be done. Let me, let me raw from the hills in the deep. Kenny Baker singing in the Hills of Old Wyoming. And now we bring you our version of Eugene O'Neill's masterpiece, Our Wilderness. The scene is a small town in New England, yaws and yaws ago, when children were seen and not noticed. Now, as the scene opened, what was that noise, Mary? O'Neill just turned off his radio. Oh, well. Curtains, music, John. Son, Wilderness. He ain't home yet. The 827 and that boy of ours is still gallivanting around. Well, don't worry. He's a good boy and smart, too. He got the biggest marks in the school and stood us ahead of his class. Well, where he got the marks, he had a stand. I tell you, Teresa, I don't know what this younger generation is coming to. On the way home tonight, I actually saw a young couple holding hands before it got dark. Well, what's the matter with that? Well, when I was young, boys never thought of doing the things they do today. That's why they didn't do them. Hmm. Never thought of that. You know, Pa, I've been thinking, you really got to talk to Wilderness and tell him the facts of life. He's going on 29. Yes, you're right, Ma. He ain't a child anymore. Has he got a shaving mug? Yes, but he never shaves it. I have a suspicion he's erasing a beard. Are you sure, Pa? No, but when he comes in, I must stash him. Ooh. That hurt me, too. Yeah, but that boy's at the age now where he must be protected. Yes, Pa, and it's up to you to talk to him. Gosh, Ma, I don't know what to tell him. Why don't you ask the boys of experience? No, not tonight, Teresa. I feel kind of drowsy. Drowsy? Yes. My mistake. Come in. It's Uncle Ferncliffe. I give you a glass of water, please. Well, what's the matter, Uncle? Make it two glasses. Why, what's wrong? Pa, I've got something to tell you. I've got bad news for you. You don't mean you're time to live with us? It's voicers and dabs. Do you know that Simpson girl who bears high heels will smoke cigarettes? You mean Annabelle Simpson? That's the bimbo. How do you know she smoked a cigarette? There was lipstick counted when I picked it up. What, lipstick coups? And that's not all, Pa. Would you believe it? Your son has been writing her letter. He has? Surprise, Ann. I just found a love letter. Look at that fancy stationary. I feel that material. Not bad. And you say my son wrote this letter? Yes, and did he. Here it is. It says, dear Annabelle. Wait. I can tell from the beginning of that letter this ain't going to be fit for a woman's ears. You want to leave the room, Frieza? Give me that letter, and you leave the room. Carry on, Ferncliffe. I've got to know what's in it. Dear Annabelle, roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you. You're truly little, Annabelle. My son wrote that? I can't believe. Well, here it is in black and blue. Well, and I reckon it's true. I wouldn't mind it so much except for those last four words, and so are you. That's a going too far. And don't be too hard on the boy for us. Maybe he wasn't himself when he wrote it. He must have been. Every word is missed out. That's exactly my conclusion. Here he comes now. For us, you must talk to him. Oh, father. Oh, mother. Oh, uncle. Oh, wilderness. Young man, do you realize what time it is? 9.13. Exactly. You had your mother all upset coming in at this hour. She was a walking up and down in her bare feet with tears in her eyes, and wide. There were cats on the floor. Yet, son, we were all worried. Where were you tonight? Playing jacks. Oh, gambling, eh? At Annabelle Simpson's? Yeah. You better be careful, my boy. I knew many girls when I was a young man, but your mother was different. Sure I was different. I said yes. Wilderness, Uncle Fernsley found a love letter you wrote to Annabelle. What do you say to that? Oh, gingerbread. Watch your language, son. Did you have a drink before you came home? Yes, father. A molded milk. A molded milk, eh? Was there an egg in it? Well, I, well, uh. Answer me, son. Was there an egg in it? Yes, father. That's the last straw. But I couldn't help it, father. I couldn't help it. I was driven to it. I don't care how you got there. It doesn't matter. You don't know the egg to a lonely heart. I asked Annabelle for a lock of her hair, and she told me to jump in the lake. Did you do it, son? Yes, but it wasn't fair. Well, I can understand that. When your mother first turned me down, I drank a glass of iodine. Was there an egg in it? Leave the room, Frieza. I'm going to have a talk with Wilderness about the facts of life. Well, I hope you learn something. Hey, she infumigates it so. Come here, son. You're getting at the age now when you ought to be told some of the facts of life. Sit down, my boy. I am sitting down. Then stand up. You're going on 29 and approaching manhood. There are a few things you ought to know. Gee, it's a thrill. What is it, dad? Wait a minute. Lock that door and shut that window. Yes, pa. Now close that trance. Yes, and turn off the steam. First, I'm going to read you that letter you sent to Annabelle. I'm scared. Listen to this. Dear Annabelle, roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, and so are you. Yours truly, Wilderness. Gosh, did I write that? It wasn't huge, isn't it, O'Neill? Quiet, I'll handle this. How, Wilderness, how would you feel if you got a letter like that? I don't know, dad, but I can find out. How? I'm going to sit right down and write myself a letter. Write yourself a letter, son. And make believe it came from millions of soldiers across the sea fighting for democracy. I'm going to say those things so sweet that will knock me off my feet with kisses at the bottom. Gee, I'm glad I got them. I'm going to write and say, I hope you're feeling better. Mr. K. The Blazer, you're a fascination, baby. And sign with love the way you do. My honey, do. I'm going to sit right down and write myself a letter. Letter. I'm going to tell you the facts of life. Well, they'll tell them already. It's getting older. Listen, my boy, it's like this. I can't go through with this. I got cold feet. All right, I'll turn on the steam again. You better tell them, Furncliffe. All right, I'll do the honest. Will the nuts, my laddie boy? There's only one way to win a woman, quote. Always give them the cold soda, unquote, you see? Quote, never show them that you love them, unquote. Are you listening, quote. Stop. Your uncle is wrong, my boy. There's only one way to win a woman. Show her that you admire her, cherish her, go to see her, and make love to her. Stop it. I can't listen to such a tamarind there. You're wrong. I'm right. You're wrong. I'm right. You're wrong. You're wrong, and I'm leaving. Pay no attention to your uncle, son. You listen to me. Tell me more, father. A woman needs love, affection, and correctness. I may be wrong about Annabelle, but if she's the girl of your dreams, go to her, my son. Go to her. But I fear it's too late, father. She can't see me from a hole in the wall. Well, there is a resemblance. But I'll fix it. I'll call her up on the telephone. What's her number, wilderness? Spruce, tree, tree, tree. Did you hear that, operator? Well, get it. Don't worry, son. I'll fix everything, and I'll show you that I'm right. I'm always right. All a woman needs is love and affection. Hello? Hello, is this Annabelle Simpson's house? Hello, friend there? What, you? Well? I can't understand this. What have you got to say for yourself? Only one thing. You were right. Play, John.