 Mother, is Maxwell House really the only coffee in the world? Well, your father says so, and your father knows best. Yes, it's Father Knows Best transcribed in Hollywood starring Robert Young's father, a half-hour visit with your neighbors, the Anderson, brought to you by America's favorite coffee, Maxwell House, the coffee that's always good to the last drop. Be it ever so peaceful and ever so fair, be the sun shining bright at your door. There's nothing so sad or so full of despair as the morning after the night before. It's breakfast time in Springfield, and in the White Frame House on Maple Street, all is not well. The 4th of July was a big day for the Anderson's, but not as big as it might have been. That's why, on the 5th of July, the family goes to work on the greatest fall guy the world has ever known, poor old father, like this. But you said we weren't allowed to shoot off firecrackers. That's right. Well, Jimmy Woody had firecrackers, and he shot them all. Cathy, I've told you a dozen times, shooting off firecrackers is against the law. They shot them off in the park. You eat your breakfast. Well, didn't they? Betty, do as your father tells you. Can't I even talk? Eat your breakfast, dear. Jumping creepers. Everybody else got to shoot off firecrackers, except me. I never get to do nothing. You never get to do anything. You said it. Everybody else. Cathy, for the 10-minute time, the use of firecrackers within the city limits of Springfield is illegal. Then why did they shoot them off in the park? Because that was a fireworks display. It's entirely different. Mom, I can't find my other shoe. Look under your bed, dear. I did look. Never mind. I found it. But hurry up or you won't get any breakfast at all. Okay, Dad. Couldn't find his ears if they weren't passing on. Why are you shooting firecrackers in the park different? Because it was part of the city's celebration. That's why. Jimmy Woody shot off firecrackers and I'm as much a part of the city as he is. Cathy... His father didn't tell him it was different. Margaret, may I please have my coffee? Of course, dear. Every time somebody does something and I can't, it's different. There you are. Thank you. Everybody gets a bigger allowance than I do, but it's different. Cathy, in just about one minute... I have to go to bed when it isn't even dark, but that's different, too. Margaret, will you please tell her to be quiet? People don't even like me around here. I'm going to join the wax. That's what I'm going to do. I'm going to show the whole bunch of you. Cathy, be quiet. Well, why can everybody else... Eat your breakfast. Gee whiz. I don't know what she's got to complain about. I was the only girl at the whole dance who had shoulder straps on her dress. Now, don't you start. Father, if you just wouldn't be so old-fashioned. I am not old-fashioned, but I will not have my daughter traipsing around in a dress that's held up by nothing but a prayer and a city ordinance. Jim, there's really no reason why you're here. Well, for the love of me. Margaret, one of these days, that boy's going right through the stairs. So help me. I don't think so, dear, but I'll speak to him again. It's like living in the house with a bull rhinoceros. Good morning, everybody. What's cooking? Father is. Betty, please. But is there any reason why you can't come down the stairs like a normal human being? How do they do it? They walk. That's what I did. You... May I have the cream and sugar, please? Here you are, dear. Thank you. Nobody even cares if kids have fun on the Fourth of July. Dad. Kathy, let me explain it to you once more. The reason children are not permitted to have firecrackers is a very simple one. They don't want us to have any fun. They don't want you to get hurt. Dad. Jimmy, would he have firecrackers and he didn't get hurt? Good. He only got three little blisters. Fine. On each hand. Dad, what is it, bud? Do you know how old Jerry Wilson is? Eighty-seven. He's twelve. Well, he certainly had me fooled. Would you care for some more toast, dear? Well, thank you. This will be fine. And his father bought him a gasoline scooter. Bud, I'm fifteen and I had to go to the picnic on a bicycle. How would you like to wear an evening gown with shoulder strap? I don't even like the Fourth of July. I never saw such an awful day in my whole life. Well, you all had a pretty miserable time yesterday, didn't you? Well, gosh, Dad, if a twelve-year-old kid can have a gasoline scooter... You had nothing on your busy little mind but firecrackers and shoulder straps and gasoline scooters. Important things like that. Nobody thought about the Fourth of July, what it means, what it is. When I was a boy, the biggest thrill of the year was raising the American flag on Independence Day. But you were busy with more important things. Maybe that's the trouble with a lot of people in this country. They haven't the time to honor their flag or think of what it means to them as individuals, as a people. Holy cow, Dad. Be quiet, Bud, and listen. Yes, ma'am. We've all lost sight of the fact that the freedoms we take so much for granted, the right to speak our minds, the right to live as we choose, weren't always ours. Less than two hundred years ago, our ancestors had to fight for them. And they didn't intend that Independence Day should be spent killing one another on the highways or blowing ourselves to bits with firecrackers. They fought and some of them died to give us freedom. And now we've forgotten them. Father, we know all about Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin. I know about George Washington. I don't mean people like that, kitten. I mean plain ordinary people like ourselves. The families of merchants and lawyers and hard-working farmers. Those are the people we've forgotten. The people who fashioned a whole new nation out of blood and tears and gossamer dreams. You know, a hundred and seventy-five years ago, there was no United States of America. There was only a feeling of great unrest and resentment among the American people. In the larger cities, Boston, Philadelphia, New York, there was a sort of seizing tension in the streets, in the coffee shops everywhere. But life went on. People lived as they must always lived. I cornmeal mush. It's very good for you, Kathleen. All I ever get is cornmeal mush. We'll have no arguments, child. Eat your breakfast and be quiet. Yes, Papa. Father, Betsy, this is hardly the time to interrupt your father. But mother, later, dear, please. I'm quite finished with my newspaper. May I have my coffee, please? Yes, dear. I hope I roasted the beans long enough this time. I'm sure you did, my dear. Thank you. James... Margaret, if you and Betsy intend to speak of that dress again, may I warn you now that you are wasting your breath. Father, the widow Southgate says there's a latest style. And if only you weren't so old-fashioned. I am not old-fashioned. I pride myself on being as modern and as well-informed as these changing times allow. But I will not permit a daughter of mine to risk the vapors in a low-cut bodice. Dear, the widow Southgate tells me... Mother! Jamie, how many times have you been told not to shout from the top of the stairs? But I can't find the buckle for my other shoe. Margaret, will you please instruct your son? Jamie, have you looked under your bedstead? Yes, ma'am. I've looked... Never mind. It was inside of the shoe. I'm very concerned about that young man. James, he's only a boy. He's 15 years old and preparing to enter the university. How can he expect to make his way in the world if he can't keep track of his shoe buckles? Mother, you were going to tell Father what the widow Southgate said. Well... Margaret, I have told you repeatedly that we cannot do business with the widow Southgate. But James, I've known the man to Southgate all my life. She has been denied a permit under the terms of the Lord North Restraining Act. And as an attorney sworn to uphold the law, I cannot permit you to trade with her establishment. James, you know as well as I that the law is unjust. We have already taken steps to ask that it be changed. As you've asked that other laws be changed? As you've pleaded for representation in the government of the colonies? As you've asked... Margaret... When will you stop asking? When will you demand that we be heard? When we have exhausted every peaceful method of petition. When we know deep in our hearts that the last stone is in turn. Jamie! Jamie! Madam, something must be done about the manner in which your son defies the laws of gravity. Has Parliament passed a law about that too? Good morning. I trust everyone as well. Good morning, Father. Jamie? Yes, Father. What are you trying to establish in this constant attack on a perfectly innocent staircase? I? I presume that was you descending the stair, or was it a band of horsemen pursuing a wild boar through our sitting room? Father, I'm certainly glad you mentioned it. Do you know Jeremiah Wilson? Did I mention Jeremiah Wilson? No, but he's only 12, and his father bought him his own horse. Jamie... I'm three years older than he is, and do I have a horse? I have to walk to school. Jamie... And that's a long walk. Eight squares. And everybody else in the whole school... Jamie! Yes, sir? A boy who cannot keep track of his shoe buckles cannot be entrusted with his own horse. How can you misplace a horse? If there were a way, you'd manage. Betsy, no one asked for your opinion. I didn't say anything, did I, Mama? No, Kathleen. I've been very good, haven't I, Mama? Yes, Kathleen. Do I still have to eat my cornmeal mush, Mama? Yes, Kathleen. Gee willikens. Jamie, the front door. Nobody's afraid that I'll misplace the front door. I could close my eyes and find the front door and the door. I don't know. When I was a boy, my father never permitted this turbulence at his breakfast table. Breakfast was a quiet meal, peaceful and calm. There was none of this excitement and confusion. Everything was well-ordered and contained. Everything... Mother, it's Mr. Smith. Elizabeth. Margaret, Margaret, you've got to help me. We're in the most terrible trouble. Uh, girls, perhaps you'd best go outdoors and take your brother with you. But I haven't finished my mush. Go along, Kathleen. Good day, Mr. Smith. Come along, Katie. Don't call me Katie. Now, Elizabeth. Oh, I'm just beside myself. Nothing like this has ever happened in the entire history of our family. Elizabeth, may I suggest that you calm yourself? You. The entire affair is your fault. My fault? Elizabeth. You were the one who put him up to it. You were the one who told him not to pay his taxes. You mean Hector, I presume? My husband. If only he hadn't listened to you. Elizabeth, I assure you... You gave him those articles on freedom. You explained to him that the sugar in molasses act was illegal. You told him to petition the repeal of the restraining act. You told him all. What I told Hector was true. The advice I gave him was sound. Our petitions are valid. Our protests are impeccable. If we stand united, no one can be punished. No? Then why is Hector in jail? Oh, Jane. Hey, that's what I call truly good coffee. How about a second cup, darling? Those are wonderful words to hear, especially when you hear them from the world's greatest coffee expert, your husband. Of course, lots of folks think of us as experts, too, since more families do buy our Maxwell House coffee than any other brand. But when you make coffee for your husband, why, he's the expert who say so you care about. And tomorrow, if you'll just pour him a cup of heartwarmingly good Maxwell House coffee, we're mighty sure he'll say, best coffee I ever tasted. In fact, we'll return your money if he doesn't say that. You see, only Maxwell House has that wonderful good to the last drop flavor. Because only Maxwell House has the recipe. It's one that demands choice, extra flavor coffee, blended and roasted just so. And since no coffee is made like Maxwell House, no other coffee tastes like Maxwell House. Tomorrow, serve our Maxwell House to your husband. If he doesn't say best coffee ever, why, just send us the can and unused portion, and we'll gladly refund your money. Our address is right on every familiar blue tin. Yes, to please the world's greatest coffee expert, your husband. Serve him Maxwell House coffee. Always good to the last drop. It's moments later in the White Frame House on Maple Street, but the Andersons aren't conscious of time. They've been swept back to the days of the American Revolution. To the story of a family much like their own. They've moved through the streets of an early American city, through the doors of the Court of Justice, and there they sit quietly, patiently, while an 18th century Anderson prepares to defend the rights of his friend Hector Smith. Like this, Hector, you must be truthful with me. Did you say anything more? Jim, I take my oath. I told the man just what you told me to do, that I was not going to pay taxes unless I had a voice in my own government. And naturally, you had to say it to a man who was a representative of the King. Elizabeth, how was I supposed to know that... My husband. Thousands of people in the city, and he has to argue with tax collectors. Elizabeth, I'm sure it isn't as bad as you fancy. Is it, James? I don't know, Margaret. In these affairs, one can never be sure. No, that is grace. That I, a stifle sent on my mother's side, it should live to see the day that my own husband... The court will rise, Jim, Margaret. Yes, dear. They're about to begin. Why don't you take Elizabeth to a seat? All right, James. Come along, dear. We'll find a comfortable bed. If only he would argue with people. If only he would... The crown calls Hector Smith. Jim, maybe if I plead guilty, they'll give me a lighter fine. You can't plead guilty, Hector. The tax is unjust, and we must prove it so. May it please your lordship. Are you Hector Smith? I am James Anderson, your lordship, a solicitor, engaged by Hector Smith for his defense. Well, well, step forward. Don't stand there. Yes, my lord. Jim, why don't you ask... Please, Hector, not yet. The bailiff will read the charge against the prisoner. May it please your worship. Silence. Hector, please be quiet. The bailiff will proceed. Hector Smith, territorial colonist, is hereby charged by the crown with failure to pay his just taxes. Under section 7 of the act governing the sale of sugar and molasses. How do you plead? Your worship... May it please your lordship. This is not a proper charge, and the plea cannot therefore be entered. Not proper? Ridiculous. I drew the charge myself. Your lordship... I insist that the prisoner plead. Is he guilty or not guilty? Is he guilty or not guilty of what, my lord? Of not paying his taxes? Yes, of this he is guilty, but these taxes are levied without reason. They are an affront to the principles of justice and democracy. Mr. Anderson, I like not your tone. Nor I, a court where the magistrate draws the charges. Jim, they'll wind up by hanging me. Hector, will you please stop worrying? May I remind the solicitor that he does his client a disservice by such outbursts? I ask your lordship's pardon. It shall not happen again. Very well. I shall ask once more. How does the prisoner plead? He pleads not guilty, your lordship, and a host of citizens stand firm and aside. Nowhere in the history of government. The prisoner will rise. Will you please, your lordship? The prisoner will rise. Hector Smith. Yes, your worship? I find you guilty as charged. But your lordship... You will serve 18 months at hard labor, and your property is confiscated to the crown. Remove the prisoner. This is infamous, your lordship. Parliament has agreed to consider our problem. Mr. Anderson, we have no time for such trifles. Trifles? Since when is a man's freedom a trifle? Our courts are cluttered with this colonial rabble. He's satisfied that I did not order him hanged. Your lordship... Jim, don't risk your own name. I have a right to speak. I order you to be silent. And I demand that I be heard. Aileen! We have all been silent too long. We've asked only a voice in our own government, and to no avail. Now we shall speak with a voice of liberty and justice. We shall raise a cry of freedom that will echo through the hearts of all mankind. This is treason. This is truth. The God who gave us life gave us liberty as well. We are free men endowed by our creator with certain unalienable rights. And among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The militia! Champions, comrades, here! Fail it! Last, it's here. The final word has been said. The final stone has been turned. Fail it! He's gone, my lord. And gone is tyranny. Gone is oppression. Gone is the iron heel that ground justice into the dust. We are aflame, my lord. The torch of freedom has lit at last. And justice soon will be snuffed out. They'll shoot you down as they did in Boston. Let them shoot, my lord. We are patriots, and our blood will nourish the streets and meadows and wooded hills. Our bones will bleach in the summer sun and chill in the winter snow. But if one man survives, he will be freed. From his sinews will come a new race of men. From his heart will come a new life. Through him we shall build a new nation in which our children will live without fear, in which justice and freedom will prevail. Through him will be born a new world, America. What happened on the 4th of July? Well, not exactly, kitten. That sort of thing went on for years, all over the colonies. Well, what did happen on the 4th of July? Oh, are you a dope? They signed the Declaration of Independence. But I wish you wouldn't speak to Kathy that way. But how can she be so dumb? All right, genius. Who signed it? What? Who signed the Declaration of Independence? Oh, gosh. Everybody. But the Declaration of Independence was signed by 56 men. Well, that's a lot, isn't it? Daddy! Yes, Kathleen. There's only one thing I don't understand. What's so wonderful about the Declaration of Independence? He'll tell you some other time, dear. Margaret, if you don't mind, I'll just as soon tell her now. While he's in the groove. While I have all three of my not-headed children in a listening mood. What did I do? Not a thing. And let's keep it that way. Jim, if you're going to tell... All right, honey. The Declaration of Independence was written not to point out new principles or new arguments or even to say things which had never been said before. But to put before the people of the world an announcement of the fact that the American people considered themselves from that day forward an independent nation. Do you understand that? Oh, sure. Dear, she didn't understand one word you said. Of course she did. Maybe she did, but I sure didn't. Well, I couldn't have made it clearer. You understood me, didn't you, bud? Yes, sir. Well, I promised Joe I'd help him do something. What did I say? About what? The Declaration of Independence. You mean the whole thing? Or any small portion thereof. This is going to be good. Well, you said that the Declaration of Independence was important because it told everybody that on the 4th of July, 56 fellows got together and... Well, anyway, it's the birthday of the United States. That's the important part. Oh, that's what it is! Well, you could put it that way. And you know, come to think of it. Isn't it strange that no one ever gives the country a birthday present? Jim, really? I mean it, honey. Everybody else gets them. Father, if you'll buy the wool, I'll knit the country a pair of argyles. Take her up on it, Dad. How will she know what size? That was a joke, dear. Another one? I'm being very serious. Father, you're not. I certainly am. We have the good fortune to live in the greatest country in the entire world. A country that has given us blessings far richer than we know. Our country has given us a heritage of freedom. Freedom of speech. Freedom from want. Freedom from fear. Freedom to worship in any church we may choose. It gathered us all sorts of Americans from the far-flung corners of the earth and made for us a home. Give me your tired, your poor, it said. Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door. Our country has a birthday every year, celebrated on the 4th of July, and all of us, no matter how rich or how poor, can afford the only gift it wants. A pledge of undying loyalty and devotion. A vow that in the year ahead we'll remember and observe the simple principles of democracy. A promise that, to the best of our ability, we'll live as Americans. What is it that gives you so much pleasure in a really good cup of coffee? Why, it's flavor. Yes, ma'am, and naturally for top value, you want the most in flavor for your money. So take home the one coffee famous above all others' poor flavor, our Maxwell House coffee. Start serving it to your husband, the world's greatest coffee expert, when he smiles with delight and says, best coffee ever. You'll know why Maxwell House is world famous for flavor. Then just count all the cups of truly satisfying coffee you get from that familiar blue Maxwell House tin with the big white cup and drop. That's what you call value, ladies. At your own table, then, find out how much more flavor you get for your money with Maxwell House coffee. Always good to the last drop. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Robert Young. Tonight, Father Knows Best brings to a close its second season of broadcasts and all of us will leave on our annual vacations. Before we go, however, the members of my radio family have asked permission to say their individual goodbyes. Being an indulgent husband and father, quite naturally, I had to agree. So here they are. June Whitley? I hope you have a very nice summer and be sure to come back with us in the fall, won't you? Goodbye. Rhoda Williams? Goodbye, goodbye. Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodbye till it be moral and have a real keen summer gang. Norma Jean Nelson? We're going up to Round Leg again and they've got boats and docks to jump off and you can go swimming and fishing and this year I'm going to collect things like the snakes and bullfrogs and if any of you come up to the lake, my mother's a wonderful cook and she'll be only two happy. Did I say something wrong? You're supposed to say goodbye. That's what I was doing. Well, uh, say it. She will. Goodbye, everybody. And finally, a word from Ted Donaldson. Uh, so long. That was the word. Well, I just about does it, neighbors. I'm heading north to see a man about some fish and I'll be driving carefully all the way. Oh, just one more thing before I go. If you take any trips this summer, leave early enough so you won't have to drive in a hurry. Then we'll all be around when it's time to get together again in the fall. That's the ticket. See you later. Bye. Remember, Father Knows Best starring Robert Young is Jim Anderson, with Roy Bargy and the Maxwell House Orchestra, will return to the air over these same NBC stations on Thursday, September 6th. Our broadcast time will be one half hour earlier and your local newspapers will remind you of date, time, and station. So until September 6th, this is Bill Foreman saying, I'll be your host for the rest of the week. I'll be your host for the rest of the week. I'll be your host for the rest of the week. This is Bill Foreman saying good night and good luck from the makers of Maxwell House, America's favorite brand of coffee, always good to the last drop. Father Knows Best is transcribed in Hollywood and written by Ed Jayden. Now stay tuned in for Dragnet, which follows immediately over most of these stations. Dragnet, the story of your police force, is next on NBC.