 Hollywood, California, Monday, July 6th. The Lux Radio Theater presents Lionel Barrymore in the voice of Bugle Land with Porter Hall and Anne Shirley. Lux presents Hollywood with Lionel Barrymore, Anne Shirley, Hal Roach, Desselby DeMille, Ruth Waterbury and many others. Brought to you by the makers of Lux Toilet soap. The beauty care used by 9 out of 10 screen stars and by so many attractive women everywhere. We also salute a distinguished audience. With us tonight, I see Eileen Pringle, Paula Stone and Kerry Grant. Welcome to the Lux Radio Theater. Producer of the Lux Radio Theater, we present one of the most distinguished personages of the entertainment world. Producer of great screen spectacles, creator of stars, his name is known wherever motion pictures are seen. Ladies and gentlemen, Cecil B. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. The history of the American theater should be read by Gaslight. Because it was by Gaslight that its most colorful chapters were written. A popular song of the day was Two Little Girls in Blue. Horse cars were running on Broadway. Cherries was the place to eat after the theater. Handsome cabs scurried through Central Park. The fashionable figure was the hourglass silhouette. And Maurice Paramore, the most popular matinee idol of his day, was making the gay 90s gayer. Among his contributions to the general uproar were three children. Lionel, Ethel and John. All three turned out to be handsome and extremely versatile artists. But it seems that in everything I've done, Lionel has proceeded me. We were the thoroughly unknown sons of famous parents. But when I went on the stage, Lionel was already there. When I started making pictures in 1913, he had been in the movies for years. When the screen switched from talkies, he directed the first all-color talking and singing film, The Rogue Song starring Laurence Tibbet. And when I came on the air, he was already so well identified with radio that people were calling him Mike. But at last I have Lionel exactly where I want him, in a DeMille production. The production is The Voice of Dougaland by McKinley Cantor. And here is our star, Lionel Barrymore. The chief sport of Missouri farmers is fox hunting. Night after night, they gather in groups and let their hounds loose on the trail. Far or near, they know each hound's voice. They know when the scent is hot and when the fox has doubled on its trail. They sit by friendly fires before and after the chase. There's such a fire burning now and toiling toward it through heavy underbrush. We see the shadowy figures of Spring Davis, a grizzled old farmer, played by Lionel Barrymore and his son, Benji. Can I help you, Paul? No, no, no. I don't need no help. You just take care of yourself, son. I can hear the hounds coming this way. That's the fire right up there? Yeah. I can see old Calhoun Royster standing up right and big. And some other fellow. Who's there? Me and Benji. Well, come on. You're missing the whole thing. Well, I got here as fast as we could, Cal. What hails you? That Molly picture hound of mine. She's going to have a litter. Evening, Bay. Evening, Mr. Davis. Evening, Benji. Evening. Spring, this here gentleman over here is Mr. Tanner. He's from the city. Sales insurance. Evening. How do you do? Come up to listen to the hounds. Mr. Royster, Cal here was talking so much about it this afternoon. I asked if I might come along. Glad to have you. This is my son, Benji. How do you do? Throwing us a log on the fire, Bay. Couldn't hear it going out. Listen. They're over the ridge of Heaven Creek now. The hounds are gaining. How can you tell that? Oh, it's in their voices. You can tell just what's happening if you listen to them. Yes, but just where is the sport? I've heard of riding the hounds and I can appreciate that. We don't ride no horses or wear funny caps, Mr. Tanner. We just raise hounds and train them for the hunt. Well, I should think there wouldn't be any foxes left in that part of the country. Killing so many. Oh, we never kill a fox. No, no, no. He holds up when he gets tired and the hounds come home. You mean the fox will run again another night? Don't they ever learn anything from experience? Yes, sir, they learn. And they run again night after night, year after year, year after year. And do you do this all night and every night? Oh, not every night, no. Sometimes it rains. Or sometimes it's just the opposite. Sometimes the weather's too dry. Well, sometimes it'll get a long damp spell. Yeah, too damp. No, Mr. Tanner. We don't come out every night, but Carl and me ain't missed many good nights the last 50 years. Well, considering how it's pretty damp out here, it might be a good idea to take out some health insurance. Coming on to rain, Supreme? Yeah, no hunting tomorrow night. Now, look here, about that insurance, I... Someone's coming up the hill, Pa. It's Mother Pa. What's ailing, Ma? You better come home, Pa. Molly pictures restless and nervous. She ain't acting right. Well, I guess her litter's about due. Is she crying? No, just restless. Well, I'll go. You stay here, Benjy, till the foxes hold, and you bring the pack home. All right, Pa. Come along, Ma. We'll head for the house. I guess it ain't no use. Is she dead? Yeah. Molly was, uh... Well, she was always a timid little thing, and the lightning and thunder and being a mother was just too much. I guess so, Supreme. Too bad. Yeah, too bad. How's the litter? Well, here they are. Five of them. Let me see. Cute, ain't they? Yeah. But they demand a pretty big price sometimes for coming into this year's world. Well, it ain't saying nothing about the trouble of raising them on a bottle. Well, it ain't as though I hadn't done it before. Look at that in there. She's a mouse-brun spring. No spring stall. First let her die, I'm thinking. Oh, no, no, Ma. I wouldn't do that. After all, Molly's sort of give her life for this, and the last of the litter. Not much to look at. No, she ain't. But that white blaze on the far right there, that's kind of pretty, don't you think? See the way it comes around the years? All right, all right. Now you'll be getting something to eat in a minute or two. You know, Ma, I kind of took this one. I think I'll name her Anne. After a great, great grandmother, Lady Anne. That was a beautiful voice, Ma. Remember, Lady Anne? Or maybe this one will have a beautiful voice, too. Put another stick on the far back. I'm near Alder. There she is. Listen, Carol. There never has been a sound like that in Heaven Creek County. It'll have that little pup come along. It's the strangest sound I ever heard. Well, that's why I asked you to come here tonight, Mr. Tanner. This is her first hunt. You were here the night she was born. That makes me kind of feel like her uncle. Yes, sir. Just about a year ago it was. I called her Lady Anne then. Lady Anne, that is, till I heard her voice, the sweetest voice in the world. Clear and soft like a bugle. And you renamed her? Yes. She's bugle Anne now. Bugle Anne. There she is again, Pa. Heading to pack. There never has been a tune like that in any throat in Missouri. And there won't be any more like her when she's gone. Grand, you had just pumped foolish over that animal. Well, why wouldn't it be waited a long time to have a hound like that? Yes, sir. Well, I should think it'd be worth it. Well, you see, sir, it's a matter of breathing good hounds and understanding them and kind of, well, being fond of them. Yeah, they're turning. Yeah. They're bringing up past the old Camden place. Yeah, I guess someone's moved into the old house. I ain't here. No, I haven't. I've been meaning to speak about it. Yeah, babe? Some of the Camdeners that's moving in up there, they're coming back home. The Camdeners were the great hound people in that day. That's 20 or 30 years ago. Yeah, but this is the son-in-law of the old Camdeners and his name's Terry. And he aims to be sheep. Sheep? Well, that means a fence. Sir Lance's father was at the lumberyard and this fellow Terry was there. He was ordering posts and wire. Wire? What kind of wire? Oh, wire. Hog tide boosts long and horse high. I remember this Jacob Terry. Sure, no. He married Effie Camden. I heard she died up in Jackson County, leaving one daughter. It seems to me the daughter's first name was Camden. Well, I wouldn't call this Jacob Terry a pleasant man. Yet he once whipped a horse with a hunk of hickory. Oh, well, you can't condemn a man and what you hear. Any man can be reasoned with. Maybe we can reason with him about this fence. Why do you object to Terry having a fence, Mr. Davis? Well, in the first place, a fox hates such a fence. See, he's liable to shy off and leave the country because of it, but some foxes do like it and that's even worse. Because a hound runs about 15 miles an hour and he hits a woe-wire fence in the dark. Now, the fox is little. He's got through without choking to death, but the hound is likely to get hurt. Well, you can't get good hut and cutleries where they put fences across the fox range. No, I reckon we'd better make a visit on this, you know, Jake Terry tomorrow. Nobody's ever put up such a fence in these parts. There's bugle and again they've hold. I guess we'd better call her back, Pa. Yeah, hand me my horn, Benji. A bugle? Will she come for that? Yeah. And there's nobody in the world got leave to call bugle and step me. Your father getting some water at the pump. Well, hurry up about it. There's a lot of work to be done around the house this morning. Yes, Father. And I want you to help me with that fence. Father, I was going to speak to you about that. Must you put up a fence? Why shouldn't I? Well, the people around here do a lot of hunting. I know it. I heard them all last night. There'll be no hounds running over my property. We're going to raise sheep. I love the sound of hounds. It's really beautiful. Rubbish. I can't stand the sound of them. The sight of them. They're the fools that make a fuss over them. Oh, but it's just a game, Father. I've often heard mother tell how they used to sit around the bonfire at night right out there on the ridge. It's in your blood too, I guess. Your mother was more interested in dogs than she was in me. You're her daughter, all right. Please, Father, let's not quarrel. Oh, get on with your work. I've got better things to do than argue with you. Good morning. You're Miss Camden, I reckon. Yes. Well, I'm Springfield Davis. This is my son, Benji, and this is Cal and Bake Royster. How do you, Madam, sir? We are neighbors, Miss Camden. We'd like a word with your father. Well, what is it about? It's just that we wanted to discuss a little matter with him. Oh. Who are all these people, Camden? They want to speak to you, Father. What do you want? Mr. Terry, we heard you was going to put up a worldwide fence around your land. Well? Well, a hound can't get through that kind of a fence, Mr. Terry, it's sure to get hurt. They get hurt will be their own fault. I'm going to build a fence, hog tight, bull strong, and horse high to keep hounds out. Father, please. Be quiet. Now, nobody has ever put up such a fence in these parts. Well, mine will be the first, then. And if any hounds do happen to get through, I'll shoot them down. Well, now, I reckon nobody who was married to a Camden had hurt a hound. I'll do what I like. It's my property. Father, don't. I told you to keep quiet. Now, you pick up that bucket and take it into the house. Yes, Father. Well, let me help you, Miss Camden. You don't need your help. But I... You put down that bucket. I'm only trying to help. You heard what I said, Joe. You don't say it. Put it down, Benjy. We're going now. Yeah. And sooner you get out, the better. And there's something else you better understand before you clear off. A hound ain't the only thing that's going to get hurt if it comes sneaking around my property. There ain't nobody going to get hurt, Mr. Terry. Unless you say so. You're in the Lux Radio Theater on Hollywood Boulevard. Our play, The Voice of Bugle Land. Our star, Lionel Barrymore. We shall resume the play in just a moment. Now we take you on a quick tour of Hollywood. Sightseeing buses do a tremendous business here in the world's great movie capital. Picture yourself on one of these buses now going down Hollywood Boulevard. Don't miss anything. Here's the tour conductor. Honour of the Hollywood Boulevard and vine, ladies and gentlemen. Most famous intersection in Hollywood. A few doors to your right. Down Vine Street. The popular, frowned-to-be restaurant. Now straight ahead on your right, the Lux Radio Theater. The most famous radio theater in the world. Well, will you look at the Lux Radio Theater? Why, you know, I always thought it was an imaginary place. Oh, man. It's real. Mother, I knew that. It's the place of wonderful Lux plays a broadcast from. Remember, after I heard the first one, I began to use that Lux toilet soap. Yes, I do remember now. It seems to me your complexion looks much nicer than you started using. Well, if you can believe Bill, it does. He says my complexion's elegant. Now we are turning into Gowerspeed, ladies and gentlemen. We see the home of the famous RKO Radio Studio. And as we turn around... Too bad our bus can't stop. We'd be proud to take you inside those famous studios. Or we could show you Lux toilet soap in every dressing room. Kept there because RKO Radio Girls and famous RKO Radio stars like Irene Dunn and Ginger Rogers prefer this gentle soap. Just like you, they want to keep their skin lovely. Free from dullness, tiny blemishes, and enlarging pores that mean cosmetic skin. Lux toilet soap guards against this danger because its active lather removes dust and dirt, stale rouge, and powder thoroughly. We know you like the way Lux toilet soap keeps your skin. Try it. Now we return you to Cecil B. DeMille. We continue with the voice of Dougaland, starring Lionel Barrymore. It's several weeks later. Benji and Camden have been seeing each other almost every night. They stand together now by the rail of a rustic bridge, gazing into the stream below. It's beautiful, isn't it, Benji? Yes, it is. But I guess you kind of make it more beautiful, Camden. That's nice to hear. It sure isn't hard to say. You're Paul's hunting tonight. The wind is changing too. The scent will be fairly free, I guess. You talk like an old-timer, Camden. It must be in the blood. I guess it is. You know, I lay awake nights listening to the dogs. I got so I know their voices. When I hear Dougaland, I just go cold all over. Well, she has the sweetest mouth that ever was in Missouri. In the world, Benji. I wish you could make your father feel that way. Oh, I guess he really does, deep down. I'm sorry he doesn't treat you better, Benji, so you could come right up to the house to see me. I don't like you sneaking around behind his back. Well, I got to see you somehow. Oh, you've done your best, Benji. Oh, you know, it isn't that father's mean, really. He's just unhappy. Well, I'm sorry you are, Camden. Not when I'm with you. Camden, honey, what are we going to do? I don't know, Benji. It's awful this way. It's all so hopeless. I know. Listen. They're heading over toward your place. Don't hope they have sense enough to keep away from that wire fence. Oh, Benji, if they ever ran into it. I think I'd better go find Paul. If he ever gets hurt, he really won't be responsible for anything. Benji, I'm worried. I'll be all right. Come on. You can drive me back to the car on your place. I'll walk on from there. Benji, you won't let there be any trouble, will you? Not if I can help it, honey. I don't want anything else to come between us. Oh, Benji, darling. Thanks, Camden. I'll see you tomorrow. Wait, Benji. What is it? Look over there by the fence, those men. It's Paul. Something's happened. Come on. Calling you once and for all, spring, Davis. Get out of my pasture and get out now. And put that gun down, Mr. Terry. Don't scare us at all. I come in here after my hounds. Well, I ain't here. If it was, I've got no business among my sheep. It's bugle land. She wouldn't hurt nothing. But she's so small, she could come through your fence when her fox brings her here. Yeah? Well, get this straight, old boy. I'm going to raise sheep and I don't care I hang for all the hounds in Missouri. Now, you keep yours off my land or they'll get a dose of number 10 shot in the hind end. What's the matter, Paul? Something's happened to bugle land. I can't find her. You can get out of here too, Benji, Davis. There's more than just hounds. Give me a peeve and you know what I mean. If you're talking about candy, Mr. Terry. I am. And if you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from her. Listen! Listen to that. It's bugle land. Yeah. Mr. Terry, I'm glad for both of us that bugle land's out there running safe and sound. But the good thing for you, she's out there and not in here. Fox hounds and Davis's, they're all the same breed. And I'll kill any cur that's kept on this grass. Hey, Terry, if you shoot a Davis hound, I'll blow you clean to glory. Come on, Benji. Cal. Put a round up the fact, Benji. Getting kind of late to be out. But nothing will rid you of hers. Father. What do you want? It isn't all there for. They were trespassing on my property. I know, but, Father, you could put up a fence that would keep your sheep in and not hurt their dogs. Oh, you're siding with them. No. No, Father, I'm not. Your mother always sided against me with her people. Oh, but you're so unreasonable. Those folks don't want any trouble while they'd like to be friendly with you. Oh, I see. So they're already your friends. Sometimes I don't understand you, Father. Where were you tonight? I was out in the car. You said you were going to a picture show. I changed my mind. It was so warm. You lied to me. I just wanted to lull a gag with a no-account lazy pappu. Stop it! I won't let you talk that way about Benji Davis. I said I didn't want you to see any more of him. Oh, listen, Father, didn't you ever love Mother a little? Even in the beginning... Don't try to get around me. I told you to stay away from me. You've got no right to say it. I've got to see Benji. You'll not lie to me again, nor disobey. I love him. And what you say or do won't make... Maybe that'll make some difference. That's the last time you'll ever strike me, Father. It ain't the first and not the last. You'll do as I say. I'm leaving you, Father. I'm leaving you tonight. Where are you going, Father? To call on Jake Terry. For that gun. Ain't going to take a gun, Fring. If you land, can't be dazed. You hear to yourself, up I tell you faster. That was earlier, Ma. I called her all last night, but she didn't come to me. You think... you think Terry's shorter? I ain't sure, Ma, but me and Cal and Benji is going up that way this morning to look for her. And if she's there... Oh, Fring, I wish you wouldn't. Oh, you just leave this to me. I know what I'm doing. Don't see any sign of us, Fring? Well, she isn't here. That's your... Pa, come on, let's go home. She ain't here, but she might be buried here. All right. What do you mean, Pa? You remember, Cal, how Bugle Ann caught her foot in that rat trap before she was weaned? Sure, sure. Everybody knows that. But one gauntone never bothered her. Her track was always plain, Cal. I've been looking for her track up here, and there it is. Right there in the mud. You see it, Cal? Plain is daylight. I reckon it'd stand encroached just like fingerprints and facts. She passed here on her way home, and Jake Terry shot her. Wait, wait, Pa. Get out of my way, son. Come back here, Pa. I want to see Jake Terry. Wait, you don't know what you're doing. Let me go. He killed Bugle Ann. But you can't act hasty, Pa. Hasty? If I'm looking for rats in my granary, I don't sit down and wait for them. Give me that gun, Spring. There you go. You never bred Bugle Ann, did you? He was mine. There's Terry on the porch. He's got a gun, too. Screams? I told you to clear off my place, Spring Davis. What did you do with it, Terry? What did you do with Bugle Ann? Get out of here, you old devil. You better answer me. I ain't never killed your dirty hound, but I'll put some slugs into you if you don't get out of here. Look out, Pa. You're hitting her. I reckon it did. Miss Terry, you're under-old to tell the truth. You know that? Yes, sir. Then please tell the jury just why the defendant objected to your father building a fence. Because it interfered with his fox hunting. Where were you on the evening preceding your father's death? I was out riding with Benji Davis. When you returned to your house, what happened? We saw men by the side of the house. Spring Davis and Calhoun Royster? Yes. And Spring Davis quarreled with your father, didn't he? Miss Terry? Yes. And after they left? I tried to speak to father. We had an argument. And then? He slapped me. Struck you? Just once, not very hard. What was the argument about Miss Terry? About Benji. He objected to your going out with him? Yes. And the argument was not about dogs? Well, that's what started it. And I was... What happened then? I packed my clothes and took the car. It was my car and he didn't stop me because he knew my aunt Nancy had given it to me after Uncle Newt died. Go on. Well, I was angry. I didn't want to stay there. I drove away. Where? To my Uncle L Nathan's place up north. It was two days before I heard of my father's death. Miss Terry, are you still friendly with the defendant's son? We haven't seen each other. That's what you mean? One more question, Miss Terry. Did your father kill the defendant's dog? I left. I wasn't there. That's all, Miss Terry. Now, Miss Davis, tell me this. You never found the body of the dog, did you? No, sir. We never found it. And it's true that you and your friend, after the killing, made an intensive search of the premises for it? Well, we knew she'd been there. I couldn't mistake her footprint because she was one so shy. Never mind that. You went over, Mr. Terry's friend and into his yard armed, didn't you? That's correct. You were prepared to kill. I object, Your Honor. Objection overall. Answer the question, Mr. Davis. I told Jake Terry if he harmed Bugle Land, there'd be trouble. Do you mean to tell me you were prepared to kill a man because of a dog? Oh, now, wait a minute. I guess you never owned a hound. Answer my question. Well, I am answering it. It kind of answers itself to anybody that ever owned a hound and loved it the way I did Bugle Land. It wasn't because Bugle Land had the sweetest mouth in the world. It wasn't because I raised it from a pup and bred it to the horn. If she didn't have no more voice and a frog, I'd have felt the same way about her or any other hound of mine. Jake, you may remember what Senator Vest said about a dog. I reckon you do. He was a lawyer and he said what he had to say in court, same as I'm talking. He could talk a whole lot better than I can. What he said was this, the best friend a man has in his world may turn again. His son or his daughter that he's rid of the best way he knows how may turn again. The people who roar and cheer when everything's going good will be the first ones to heave a rock at him when he's down. The one absolutely unselfish friend that a man can have. The one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog. A man's dog stands by him richer poor, sicker well. He'll sleep on the cold ground with the wind blowing and the snow driving that don't make no difference to him so long as he's there by his master's side. He'll kiss the hand and ain't got no food to give him. He'll guard the sleep of a pauper as if he was a king. And when all other friends desert he sticks. A fortune drives the master and an outcast into the world, and when he's wangless and homeless the faithful dog don't ask nothing more than just to be with him and guard them again any danger that he can and when the last scene of all comes. And he's laid away in the cold ground no matter if all his other friends go on their way there by his grave you'll find the dog. His head between his paws and his eyes sad but open and watching faithful and true right down to the very end. Yes, sir. Oh, I've seen it more than once. I'd kill a man if he killed a friend of mine without no reason and a hound is as much a friend as any man except he ain't got none of a man's paws. Yes, sir. I ain't denying I killed Jake Terry because he killed Bugle Ann. I didn't want to do it. I just had to. The jury considered it's verdict. We have. We find the defendant guilty of murder. These cells ain't much to look at. I guess the best they can do here they're going to give me my sentence this morning. That's why I come. Well, now there's no use grieving about it. I reckon there's nothing else the jury could do seeing as I killed him and didn't deny it. Or they might have taken into account how you was provoked. He killed Bugle Ann, didn't he? And he would have killed you too if you hadn't given him the death shot first. Don't worry about me. It ain't going to be so bad up there in Jeff City. A lot of men stand it and they ain't no tougher than me. I'm sorry for more on Benji though. You do what you can for him, Cal. You know I will, Frank. You tell Benji that Camden's really a fine girl and I hope maybe someday it'll work out for him. It's much worse for them two young ones than it is for me. You know, Cal, I ain't done much reading lately and this will give me a sort of chance to catch up. Well, I'll send you the Red Ranger and the Hunters home on three. Well, now that's mighty fine of you, Cal. Frank, I... Oh, now, sure. Don't feel bad, Cal. It's all right. Tain nothing. I'm kind of looking forward to the chance of getting myself in good physical shape again. I hear they've got a lot of exercise up there. I reckon I've been setting out in the wet too much nights. I guess I won't be setting out nights up there much. All right, Davis. He wants you in the courtroom. Yes, sir. Hey, Cal, I'm kind of nervous about this. You know, I never was sentenced before. You go ahead, Cal, and tell Mo and Benji not to take it too hard. Goodbye, Frank. Goodbye. I'll do the best I can. Yes. Bring, Davis. Yes, sir. The jury has heard the evidence presented in this court, and they have found you guilty. The court hereby sentenced you to the state prison for a period of 20 years for the crime which you've just been convicted. No, no, no. Bring. No, no, no. It's all right, Mo. Don't carry on now. But 20 years. It ain't right, Frank. No, no, Mo. I'm awful sorry to bring this trouble on you, Mo. I'm awful sorry, Mo. Station Identification. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. This is Cecil B. DeMille speaking to you from the Lux Radio Theatre in Hollywood. Lionel Barramore and Anne Shirley return shortly for the third act of the voice of bugle Anne. Line for line, more news is printed about Hollywood than any other community in the world. Affairs of state are taken off the front page to make way for Shirley Temple's newest tooth for Greta Garbo's search for solitude. And magazines make public the private lives of our stars. Millions of people see Hollywood through the eyes of a certain editor who has left her editorial uneasy chair to come to the Lux Radio Theatre tonight. The editor of Photoplay Magazine, Miss Ruth Waterbury. Thank you, Mr. DeMille. You know when an editor interviews a director, that's not news, but when a director interviews an editor. That's a radio program. Miss Waterbury, I have a protest to file on behalf of the gentlemen of the screen. Why aren't more pictures of male stars used on magazine covers? The answer's simple. When we have a beautiful girl on the outside of our magazine, many people buy it just for the picture. But when we have a man's picture on the cover, no soap. Don't say no soap. This is the Lux Radio Theatre. What I mean is, we have to have women's pictures because the majority of our readers are women. Then why not men's pictures? Aren't most women Gabriel Gapers and Coleman Cravers? We've had men on covers and eaten magazines for months thereafter. Women, by all news and records, are primarily interested in women. They want to know new ways to fix their hair, whether thin or heavy eyebrows are in fashion, how to keep their figures and their confections lovely. I find it, for instance, that a great many women use Lux Toilets help because they know screen stars use it. That's no secret here. If an actress singles out a product for her personal use, you may be sure it's the best. Yes? When the stars take the cake, I mean when the stars take the cake... Miss Waterbury, what you're trying to say is, when the stars take the cake, Lux is the cake they take. In any event, Hollywood is teaching women the tremendous importance of personal appearance, and it's teaching the world that glamour is not a quality you're necessarily born with. In other words, you, Mr. DeMille, the great glamour creator, know that glamour is just learning how to emphasize one's own personality. This, I believe, is why Hollywood today is dominating the news of the world. It is every woman's inspiration. It is teaching every woman how to emphasize her own best point. Thank you, and good night. Good night, editor. And now for the last act of our play, The Voice of Bugle-Land, starring Lionel Balovar with Anne Shirley. Almost a year has gone by since Spring Davis was condemned to prison. It's late evening, and in the kitchen of the old farmhouse, Benji and Mrs. Davis are sitting tensely in their chairs. They seem to be waiting for something, half expectant, half frightened. Mrs. Davis breaks a long silence. Benji. Yes? Are you going out searching again tonight? I searched and searched almost every night for two weeks. She's never answered the phone. I heard her, and you heard her. Big heard her, so did his poor. Well, no mistake. Bugle-Land was bugling that night. She couldn't have been more. Bugle-Land's dead. Tara killed her almost a year ago. I never said she wasn't dead, Benji. But we heard her just the same. Oh, it's unnatural to believe in ghosts. She was leading a pack. I don't know the voice, Benji. And if she'd been alive, she'd have come when you called her. I guess the pack that she's been leading could... could go to a hog-tight fence like so much dishwater. Because there ain't no fences where they've been. No more. I guess the great hounds have got a place of their own to go to after they run the last race year. Benji. I've been meaning to ask you. Didn't Camden ever write to you or nothing since... since the trial? Oh, no, she never did more. I ain't ever heard a word. Nowhere she is, don't you? Up with her uncle? No, I know. But Thor, what's the use? There can't ever be nothing between Camden and me. Not now. If she loves you, Benji. How can she? My father killed her father. There's a murder between us. Benji. Oh, I'm not saying Thor wasn't right. And do the same thing in his place. That doesn't change things. Nothing can change things. Benji, it's him again. He's back, Benji. She's come back. Don't say that, Ma. Ma, it isn't possible. Possible or not, Benji. That, that boy, that bugle-an. Right. Yes, Uncle L. Nathan. I've been trying to... Don't seem very successful. At the end of that pen all chewed the bits and hardly lying down. Who is it, Thor? No one. I'm not going to write it after all. Camden, come here. You ain't still thinking on that young Davis fellow, are you? Are you? Would it be so terrible? No, not terrible, but well, it ain't exactly right. Why not? Do I have to answer that for you, Camden? Don't you know why? It wasn't Benji's fault. He did nothing wrong. His father did. And isn't he paying for it? He's up there in state prison, an old man, hurt and beaten, because he did what he thought was right. Camden. I can't help it. I can't help it. All right, Camden. Uncle, how do you go about getting a man released from prison? You'd want to do that. He killed your father, Camden. I guess it's the awfulest thing in the world who hated one's father. I'm sorry I had to hate him, but he was mean. I saw what he did to my mother. Come in, Davis. Thank you. They tell me you want to see me, Warden. Yes, I suppose you're wondering what it's all about. Well, about the only thing I could figure was maybe I wasn't doing so well as a gardener. Maybe you were sending me to some other prison. No, nothing like that. Mr. Davis, you're free. Free? That's right. But the judge said 20 years, and it's only nine under four. Here's your pardon from the governor. And I can go home? At that. But this has got me kind of stamped. The governor don't know me, and I never had the honor of meeting him. Well, perhaps you've got some influential friend. No, no, no, no, I guess not. At least it's not that I can remember being on speaking terms with. Well, it all came pretty much as a surprise to me too, but you can go home. Home. I reckon that'll be kind of nice. Ma and Benji have been writing, but it ain't like having your kin folks around now. Here's Mr. Henry. All right. I'll telegraph your wife. You're coming. Thank you, sir. Thank you. Goodbye, and good luck, Mr. Davis. Thank you, Warden. Thank you. It's mighty nice of you, Ma, to have all the folks over. We're so glad to have you home, Pa. That's a real celebration. How do I look? Am I all right to go downstairs? Yeah, let me fix your tie. Then that's it. You can come down any time you want to now. We'll have dinner whenever you want. Well, son, Pa, I want to speak to you. Now? What about? Well, I'll close the door. I got something I want to show you. What, Benji? Look, Pa, a dog's collar. A bugle-land collar. That's right, Pa. A bugle-land collar. Where did you get it? Where is she? Now, now, sit down, Pa. Sit down and be calm. You found a bugle-land, and you never wrote it to me. Now, now, take it easy, Pa. Where was it? Where? Up in Bachelor's Timber. We never found it until last September. Bachelor's? No, no. Couldn't have been up there. Yes. She was caught riding that old rusty wire windbreak down near the shack. Caught in the wire? Strangled? Yes. How long she been there? You couldn't tell, Pa. It hadn't been for the collar. I wanted to know when it was her. Maybe a year she was there. Maybe a lot more. Then Jake Terry never done it. Well, maybe, maybe bugle-land run up there. After he shot her. Or maybe... Oh, stop your foolish talk. Well, that ain't the whole story, Pa. There was a time the first of June after you went up there when we heard a bugle in the woods beyond Heaven Creek. She was alive then. Yes. But three nights ago, the night we heard you were coming home, we heard her again, Pa. Three nights ago? We heard bugle-land. There was a time when I'd laugh my head off of that. I've had plenty of time to think these last four years. There was funny things in the Civil War, Pa. My father told me about, and there's been funny things of the time. Now, I don't say you heard bugle-land other night, but you did hear something mighty often. I thought I heard her clear off in Jeff City. Three nights ago, you heard her? Yes. Not sent. Well, there's been a rain. Well, there ain't no rain tonight. Pa. We listened to night, Benji. You and me and Cal and B. Like we used to. I'll have my horn along, and if I hear her voice... Pa, listen. If I hear her voice, I'll call her home. Pa, tell me about a fire. That's a beeline fox, all right. Don't let no grass grow under his feet. Benji, what is it, B? What'll happen if your pa blows out hornies' cairn? Would she come back to answer it? Look out. You're gettin' sweet, Cal. Yeah, gettin' sweet. Listen. Listen. It's bugle-land. It can't be. It can't. It's bugle-land. Pa, listen, it's a hound. An ordinary hound. It belongs to... I reckon it's Norm Strong. Have you ever had that kind of music in him? No. For pity's sake, Spring, it's just a kind of an echo. Cal, if she comes real close to us, I'll blow the bugle for her. Pa, Pa, sit down. Sit down. Ha, ha, ha. Are you plumb certain that was her collar, Benji? I reckon nobody but the Lord seen her bones hop up out of the orchard tonight. Now, Spring, you gotta get hold of yourself. Get hold. Why, I bred the most beautiful two never played in these parts. I ain't ashamed. Maybe you laugh when you see me bring this bugle, but I reckon that it'd come in handy. Bugle-land'll come home, Cal, when she hears this. She'll... What's that? It's someone else. Someone else is blowin' her in. I never done it. I never gave no one else leave to blow her in. But where'd the call come from? Up on Heaven Ridge or pass. We'll find out where right now. Come on. There it is. Now the fire. There's a home walkin' back and forth. That bit? That's the sound? Wait. There's the girl there. She's lookin' right at it. Jesus, too. Oh, it's... it's Camden. Camden? Come on. Camden. Good evening, Benji. What are you doin' here? Was it you, blew them notes? Yes, I did. Twice. That hound. What hound is that? I raised it. But it's got her voice. It's got Bugle-land's voice. Yes, I know. I used to hear it. I tell you, the Lord never made no two hound voices alike. Same kind of mouth and all. He never did. What is it all about, Camden? This hound. She was hers, Benji. She's Bugle-land's puppy. There were four more, but only this little one had the real Bugle mouth. Bugle-land? She never had no pup? Mr. Davis, my father never killed Bugle-land. Ah, we know that. The boys found a skeleton over there by bachelors, and they heard her voice in the woods. But I still say she never had no pup either. That night, I drove out of the yard, just like I told in court. Bugle-land was coming past the gate. I couldn't feel in time. I couldn't. It was an awful shot turnin'. I ran over her. I got out and picked her up. She wasn't dead, and she didn't seem to blame me. I was afraid to be trouble over her being hurt. Well, where did this dog get her voice? I took her up to Uncle L. Nathan's in Jackson County. After we heard what had happened, I didn't dare tell the truth. It would have been worse for you if the jury knew that Bugle-land wasn't really dead at all. Go on. Please can. I nursed Bugle-land back to health. There were five pups, but all this one was like her. What? What happened to Bugle-land? She waited till they were winged. Then she left one night. There was a moon. She wasn't strong enough to run, but she did go away. She was just 15 miles next day, then lost her for good. Likely she was heading for home when she struck a fox, and new folks heard her. We never knew she was dead for sure, but we always thought she'd been killed, trying to get back home. Benji says they heard her Bugle-land three nights back. That was the dog here. I came out thinking you might be in the timber. You knew they let me out of prison? Right. Yes. How'd you know? Well, I just knew that dog. You ain't got property in a second sight? Say, maybe you're on speaking terms with the governor. No, I wouldn't call it that. But you had something to do with this pardon? Why, plain as you know. Speak up, child. Oh, my folks weren't carry. There was some Camden. That's right. They might have counted for something when considering the pardon. The Camden's mean something in this state. Why even yet? Some of them in the legislature and the governor listens to them when they want something as much as I wanted you to be free. You did it, didn't you? Oh, I just did what I could. I told them about Mr. Davis. Well, thank you, Miss Camden. Oh, please. This little horn here. She's kind of taken to me, I think. Look at her sniffing around. Well, I reckon you two youngsters got things to talk over. Oh, I have. Camden. Not now. But it's going to be all right, isn't it? If you want, Benji. Sure he does. He's been moaning around ever since you left. His mother tells me. Wait, Mr. Davis. I brought the dog for you. I'd like you to have it. For me? Oh, that's mighty nice of you. I trained it at the horn, just the same as bugle lamb. Well, what you call her? Little lady. Little lady, huh? Well, you've got quite a mouth, little lady. And spotted just the same as you moan. She's got the same voice. Yeah. And it's going to sound mighty pretty. Come and clear across the hills. Mighty pretty, little lady. Our play, The Voice of Bugle Lamb with Lionel Barrymore of Spring Davis has ended. But in a moment you'll hear him again as Lionel Barrymore. When I came to Hollywood in 1913, the first man who asked me for a job was a cowboy extra. I still have the notebook in which I wrote his name, Hal Roach. Beside it is the salary he asked for. Five dollars a day. And beside that, my notation, too much. I hired others for three dollars a day, and thereby did Hal Roach a favor. He went out and started his own studio, making comedies featuring another unknown extra named Harold Lloyd. In time he started the Our Gang series, and the motion picture industry now awards him the laurel for producing more comedies than anybody else in Hollywood. One minute, C.B., if you're going to mention Laurel, you've got to mention Hardy. Mr. Hal Roach, ladies and gentlemen, who insists that among his laurels is Hardy and many other great comedians, including B.B. Daniels, whom I stole from him. G.C.B., I'm as nervous tonight as that cowboy who asked you for a job. Why nervous? You've graduated from cowboy to polar player. Don't blame that on me. It's my horse's fault. Can I help it if he was ambitious? He was more ambitious than some of the horses that run at your Santa Anita racetrack. You've picked many winners for films. You've developed the most famous group of youngsters in the world, Our Gang, but your greatest achievement was changing the custard pie from a harmless dessert to a deadly weapon. But you have developed the most famous character in Hollywood. Which one? The Yes Man. Never heard of him. Yes, Mr. DeMille. Where do you get your child actor? Well, I went through raising those kids. At first, I couldn't get actors for Our Gang. People didn't want their children in films, and the slogan in Hollywood was, mothers hide your children. Here comes Hal Roach. But now, after 17 years of situations reversed, and the slogan in the studio is, hide Hal Roach. Here come the mothers. You created a lot of laughter in those years, and millions of people have relived their childhood seeing those comedies on the screen. You're more than a great showman, Hal. You make people laugh and forget their troubles. I can say the same thing for UCB. Barnum had the greatest show on Earth, but you've got the greatest show on the air. I'll be listening every Monday night. But before leaving, I'd like to answer a question asked by countless fans. Who is going to play opposite Patsy Kelly in Tomney Passing of the great comedian, Thelma Todd? I think a successor is one Thelma would have chosen himself. Leader Roberti Salon. Salon, cowboy. Few people know that besides his achievement on the stage, screen and radio, the star of tonight's production is an etcher, pianist and composer of distinct ability. Hollywood's most civilized actor, Lionel Barrymore. Thanks very much for the bouquet, CB. There's one flower I left out of it. We all know you're a great actor, but few of us know that you invented one of our most important mechanisms, the movable microphone. Well, somebody had to do something. You see, ladies and gentlemen, in the old talky days, microphones were stationary. They were concealed in places like book stands and floor lamps, and it was pretty embarrassing for a player to walk over to a vase and say, darling, I love you. So I put it around with a few wires and screws and gave us an instrument which follows the player and picks up every word naturally. I hope you remember to patent it. You know Edison forgot to patent all the rights of the motion picture machine. That little oversight cost him many millions. But if it hadn't been for that invention, I wonder where you and I'd be right now. Well, you'd probably be writing and directing plays and I might be a commercial artist. I remember you once deserted the footlights and turned painter, but the paint didn't stick. Now you're an actor and the son of an actor. I guess so. Blood must be thicker than watercolors. I'm looking forward to seeing your portrayal of Andrew Jackson in our next picture, in your next picture, the gorgeous Hussie. It's going to be quite a change to see you without whiskers. Well, I've been wearing beads and moustaches for so long I'd almost forgotten how I looked myself. It's a real relief to be able to wash my face again. Well, luck, I hope. Luck's why you can't turn around in Hollywood without running into that soap. In one picture, I'm Norma Shearer's father and she uses it and then I'm some other girl's uncle and she uses it and now I come over here and there's a broadcast about it. Even Anne Shirley who played in tonight's show uses it. I certainly do, Mr. Barrymore. My complexion is no better friend than Luck's toilet soap. You see? That's all I hear. Luck, luck, luck. And why do you listen? Oh, because I like it too. Good night. Good night, Mr. Barrymore, Miss Shirley, and many thanks. Mr. Barrymore appeared through courtesy of Metro Golden Mayor and Shirley RKO, Lewis Silver's 20th Century Fox and Cecil B. DeMille and Porter Hall Paramount. And here is Mr. DeMille with Word of Next Week's Play. Next Monday night, Deluxe Radio Theatre stars Marion Davies and Joe McCrae in the story of a tempestuous wave, the brat. It's an exceptional entertainment we've chosen for you. We're one of Hollywood's brightest stars in one of Broadway's most brilliant successes. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.