 and Janet Blair in Chilling of Old Man River on the Cavalcade of America sponsored by the DuPont Company, maker of better things for better living through chemistry. But first, here is Gain Whitman. These days our clothing is getting a lot of hardware, but we can all make our clothes last longer and look better by giving them frequent dry cleaning. If you will choose a dry cleaner who uses DuPont fluids, per clean and triclean, it will benefit from cleaning fluids which have been specially designed just for that purpose. Your clothes will be cleaner because DuPont fluids are thorough. They'll be more pleasant to wear because DuPont fluids leave no odor, and they will stay clean longer because DuPont fluids leave no oily film to catch dust and dirt. Make sure that your cleaning is done with DuPont cleaning fluids. They're examples of DuPont's better things for better living through chemistry. DuPont Company presents Children of Old Man River, based on the autobiography by Billy Grant and Bryant, and starring John Haudiac as showboatman Billy Bryant and Janet Blair as Josephine Costello on the Cavalcade of America. You offer a drink to my sister, you cad? Cush you, I have come in time to save her from a life worse than death. Yes sir, that's life on the showboat folks. You have to get them in, then when they're in you have to entertain them. I'm Billy Bryant, the worst ham that ever trod the boards. I started my life on the river like the muscle, right on the bottom. But it wasn't always showboats. Once it was the four Bryant's of Audville Act. Mother, dad, my sister Florence, and I. And I was the youngest member, 12 years old, and all ham, even men. Things were tough in those days. Maybe it was because the four Bryant's was such a bad Audville Act. So bad, in fact, that we could open and close the same night. Well, Mel, that wasn't a long engagement. No, in any act you'd be able to stay more than one night at Bonnie's beer hall. I bet if you let me do my dance, we could. Billy, the act is bad enough without that. Well, Pop, what we need is new material. That'll pick up the act. Billy, we can't afford it. Besides, it would take a steam shovel to pick up this act. No, I'd better go back to the Patton Medicine Wagon, or my medicine act or magic act. You can't go back to the magic act, Pop. We ate the duck. Kill the gay! Oh, goodness sake, Sam. You're not putting that back in the act. No, I guess not. Where'd you say Billy was? No, Sam. I don't want you to get mad. But Billy went out to get some new material. Huh? Right to that little shovel picked up new stuff. He went to George M. Corhans. George M. Corhans? Now, we can't afford anything like that. Well, Billy dear, what's the matter? Oh, I'm mad. Awful mad. What's up, son? What's up, son? I want to see George M. Corhans, dad. Well, what happened, Billy? I couldn't even get to see him. Well, he's a busy man, son. I bet he thinks the four Corhans are too good for the four Bryant. He's a stuck-up guy. Now, Billy. Son, the longer you're in this business, the more you'll realize that whatever you do, you'll have to do for yourself. Maybe so, Pop, but someday I'm going to be bigger and better than George M. Corhans. You just wait and see. Sure, son, sure. Now, we'd better think about getting some work. Uh, I answered an ad this morning. Oh, Sam, another one. Oh, this is different, my dear. It's still in show business. It was for Boardville people to do turns on a showboat. A boat? Now, Sam, you know that we have to go on a showboat. Now, we've been all over the land trying to get bookings, the waters, our last chance. That was it. We joined the showboat, The Water Queen, in Augusta, Kentucky. It was spring. Now, I'll never forget my first glimpse of the big, blue river with a willow tree turning apple green along the banks. And The Water Queen, all white and gold with a green trim. Her steam collidery was spring and we met Captain Christ. Everybody doubles in brass, folks. You've got the dance, the same, play instruments. I play the guitar. Well, that's good, Mr. Bond. How about you, Sonny? Me? I'm going to be the judge and call him the river. Well, you can start by playing the bass drum. And you, Mr. Bond, do your magic act. A little ballahoo between shows. We prayed at noon. The show goes on at 8.30. Well, one season on The Water Queen playing everything from Uncle Tom's cabin to East Lynn and we were part of the river. The people liked it and we loved them. The years passed and we got our own showboat, The Princess. I was about 20 then and a dude of the river. I wore yellow box-toed button shoes, loud bow ties, and carried a brass-headed cane. I claimed was pure gold. But I never forgot the day I was turned down by George M. Cohan. And I was determined to never let him forget it. So I practiced dancing and getting pretty good, I thought. I was never displayed it except by my sister's clothes. Oh, Billy, you're starting to like the fish. Well, if I don't practice, how do you expect me to live up to my name and reputation? The George M. Cohan of the River. Oh, well, all are conceited. You are the biggest showoff I've ever seen. All lay off, will you? Hey, what's that? Bottle. I fished it out of the river. It's got a note in it. Well, open it. Can't. I haven't got enough. Oh, here, give it to me. You'll cut yourself. I didn't, did I? Just to lock it. Well, I'll be dogged on. Listen to this, Flo. Hmm? Into the waters of the Wabash Blue, I cast this note as a message to you. It comes from a lonesome girl in her teens who has been cast aside by the man of her dreams. Of all a silly name. Oh, wait a minute. There's more. If it should drift unobserved from here to the sea, what difference would it make to you and me? Hmm. Probably some old maid about a hundred with a face like a scared mudcat. Jealous again, huh? Is that so? Well, if anyone's jealous, it's you, Mr. George M. Cohan. You know, I think I'll answer this note. There's an address at the bottom. Well, you go ahead. I hope you get mixed up with something just awful. It serves you right, so concede it. Well, let me see. Um, roses are red, violets are pink. Oh, no. Um, I am the pirate that discovered your note at the head of Dark Island, and this is no joke. Well, I answered the note, and quite a correspondence between me and the girl who signed her note, Lonesome. Just about the time it got interesting, show season came back, and I kind of forgot about Lonesome. Then one evening, Dad came in waving a telegram. Hell, Billy Florence! I've got an answer to her right in the billboard. Hot dog, we're going to have somebody to play the piano. I was doing all right. Well, the audience gets tired of one piece flowing with just one finger. Billy, that's no way to talk to your sister. And that's no way to play the piano. Mom, make him stop. What's the piano player's name, Dad? Joe Custello. And Italian. They're wonderful musicians. Yeah. If he can play our new team, he'll be just what we need. And we can work up a couple of new routines for me. A couple of songs, new dances. Billy, you'll have to run down to the depot and meet him. Sure, I'll go right away. And be sure to carry that brass cane and flash that $100 bill. Ah, he carries a $100 bill, and pretend he's looking for change. You just mind your own business. Yeah. George M. Call-Hand, George M. T-Hand. Oh, shut up, Billy. I hate to break up this pleasant conversation, but the train gets in in 15 minutes. All right, Popeye. Hey, uh, conductor. Yes, sir. My name is Brice. Billy Brice. I'm in show business. Only show business. Oh, I ain't that nice. I work for loans of railroad. Uh, uh, uh, uh, you got an Italian fellow on board. Uh, a piano player? Uh-huh. Can I tell an Italian piano player? Well, are there any passengers for this stop? Just one. Well, that's him. Where is he? Uh-huh. Oh. You sure you haven't got a, uh... Conductor, is all my luggage off? Yes, ma'am. Thank you. Good bye, ma'am. Oh, uh, conductor. What now, son? Uh, can you, uh, change a $100 bill? Sure can. Just kept right over here. Oh. Oh, well, uh, never mind. I've got some other change. I thought so. Oh! Oh, uh, uh, excuse me, miss. Can I be of any assistance? Hmm? Oh, uh, no, I don't think so. Thank you. My name is Bryant. Billy Bryant. I'm in show business. Hmm. How do you do? May I buy you a cup of coffee? Um, I'm afraid you wouldn't have, uh, changed. Oh. Uh, well, uh, I, uh... Excuse me. It's been so nice meeting you, mister, uh... Bryant. Billy Bryant. I'm in show business. Oh, yes, yes. Well, goodbye. Oh, there's a gal. Meet him once and never see him again. Well, that's show business for you. Calliopean, our folks. He's been wonderful, Billy. He's just beautiful. Oh, sure, but it can't be the Italian fella. He wasn't on the train. Billy, come here. Meet our new piano player in Calliopean. Oh, all right, Dad. Billy, I want you to meet... Oh, holy smokes. You? Huh? Billy, close your mouth. Uh, but, uh, Joe Costello, the Italian fella. Oh, uh, I'm Joe Costello, but, uh, I happen to be Irish. Uh, I'm really Josephine Costello, mister Bryant. I'm in show business. Do I, Billy? Sure. Just like the willows and the flowers along the banks. What are you laughing at? Oh, Billy, you had that beach all prepared, didn't you? Honest, I didn't. I may not have just been. No, you did. Well, maybe I did think about it a little before tonight. I thought so. Oh, Joe, can't you forget that day at the station? That was a long time ago. Things have changed. Well, you haven't changed any, Billy. Why should I change? Well, you could grow up. What? You've never grown up, Billy, beyond 12 years. What do you mean? Look, you're still calling yourself the George M. Cohen of the River, aren't you? What's that got to do with us? And why shouldn't I call myself that? Because George M. Cohen is one person and you're another. Isn't it about time you learned to be just Billy Bryant? Who told you about... About George M. Cohen? Yeah. Hello. But really, Billy, she didn't mean to make fun of you. Well, look, Joe, when I was a little kid, George M. Cohen turned me down when I wanted him to write an accident for Bryant. And ever since that day, you've tried to imitate him. He's tried to be a master, a dancer, a singer. Look, Joe, I'm crazy about you. You know that. Hey, how are you supposed to be steering the boat with two hands? Ah, this boat is steering itself. Oh, baby. Joe, ever since the day I saw you in the station. Don't you dare try to do it. Joe, Joe, please. I warned you. Hey, hey, you're sounding like a sex signal. What's going on? Joe, please. Joe, please. Stop it, please. What's going on? What's the matter up here? Who's blowing that whistle? What's the matter? Oh, uh, Dad, I... Who's doing the sex signal? I did. And you can ask the George M. Cohen of the River. Why? Goodbye, Mr. Cohen. Oh, Joe, Joe, please. Wait a minute. Please, Joe. Don't exaggerate. Joe, look out. Listening to John Hodiak as Billy Bryant and Janet Blair as Joe in Children of Old Man River on the cavalcade of America sponsored by the DuPont Company, maker of better things for a better living through chemistry. As the second part of our story opens, the showboat princess is tied up opposite the sugar plantation in the deep south. Billy and Joe are seated on the after-deck listening to the workers singing. A letter that I want to tell you about. A letter? Hello, Billy. To George M. Cohen. Well, what about the letter? I told him that he didn't know me, but that I knew him from seeing him. And... Yes? Go on. What else? Well... Well, Joe, I owned up to being jealous all these years because he wouldn't like that act when I was just a fresh kid. I apologize to him for feeling the way I did. Oh, Billy, did you really? Mm-hmm. I figured it wasn't right for a person to hold a grudge like that over something that happened so long ago. Mm-hmm. Hey, Billy, um, I'm going to tell you something. You... Hey, you're not in love with somebody else, are you? Are you me? Holy catfish, Joe, how can you ask that? Well, I, um, I thought maybe you might have a secret correspondence with someone that way to you. I haven't told me about that. Oh... There was nothing in it. Nothing at all. Are you sure? Sure, I'm sure. Well, that was some silly little girl who was probably ugly as a mudcat. Am I ugly, Billy? You? Oh, Joe, you're beautiful. Why'd you say that? Into the waters of the barbash blue. I cast this note as a message to you. It comes from a lonesome girl in her... Oh, no, no, Joe, honest. Was that you? Yes, Billy, it was. And you knew all along that I was the one who... you, Joe? Are you angry, Billy? Angry? Oh, hey, mom! When I was married to make it to five, Brian. A few seasons later, the depression hit. Things were bad. The showboat business wasn't better than any other. We were dark in Cincinnati one week when a man who owned a large river yacht nearby came aboard and said to me, Are you Mr. Bryant? That's right. I'm having your party tonight, and I understand that you have a show here. Well, the way things have been going lately, we don't know what we've got. Would you care to put on your show tonight for my party? I'll pay you whatever you say. Uh, 25 bucks? That's all right with me. Say about eight o'clock. Mr. Come as early as you like. For 25 bucks, we'll put on ten nights at a bar room and follow it up with strange interludes. Let's say that drink has cursed me. Demon rum has stilled my soul and glutted my mind. Good night! Have I spent in this bar room? Aha! And Ed Morgan, here you are. I have come to collect the mortgage. Now go and get the money. No! You have one way to avoid my taking the mortgage. How do you like that? They're laughing in the wrong places. They're making fun of our habits. The villains are having a wonderful time. You hear that? For two cents I'd give them back their 25 bucks and toss them off the boat. Oh, no Billy, they're enjoying that. And they gave you a wonderful reception when you made your curtain speed. But they're making fun of dad. And slow. We did this act before nobody on my house. Who do those people think they are? Please, please! Time for your turn. I won't go on again. I'm through being life tech. Oh Billy, please. You've got to make your curtain speed. I will not. I'm an actor, not a clown. They can find their way off the boat and I don't care if I ever see them again. Get ready to cast off there. Wonder where Joe is. Well, she'll be along, dad. She went uptown to get some things. Oh look, there she comes now, running down the landing. Billy! Billy! Honey, what's the matter? What's happened? Oh, Billy, look. The Cincinnati Times star. Oh, what about it? The theatrical section. Oh, here, you read it, dad. Right there. Ten nights in the bar room, the funniest thing I have ever seen. Funny! Oh, read the rest of it, dad. It's by the editor, Mozart. The editor himself, Billy. Well, go ahead, dad. Billy Bryant's portrayal of the hero is Ham, but Ham's so well done that it becomes savory. For Cincinnatians, the Billy Bryant showboat is the place to go. Go and be laughed out of your trouble. How do you like that? They set us up as a bunch of clowns. Oh, Billy, you're wrong. Obviously, I'm wrong. Oh, look, Billy, they weren't making fun of us. We made them laugh, not at us, but with us. It troubles depression and all the unpleasant things that people want to forget. Oh, Billy, can't you see if we can make them do that? Then we're really in show business. Well, how do you know that this isn't just a freak? Well, let's see if it is. Let's stay and see if they keep on liking it. What do you say, dad? I think Joe's right. How about you, Mel? I don't mind being laughed at. Well, I don't either. Please, Billy, just for a little while. All right. It's going to take all the self-control I've got to keep them. Billy, let's go. Look out. Not this time, Joe. Look at all the cold water I wanted last night. Wow. That's how it was. We stayed on in Cincinnati and hung out the SRO sign every night. Then Chicago, and finally Broadway. We didn't change a thing on this show, and it went over big. And one night after the performance, somebody knocked at our dressing room door. Holy mackerel. George M. Cohen. Yeah, I've been wanting to meet you, Billy. Well, this is my wife, Mr. Cohen. How do you do, Mrs. Mayer? Mr. Cohen. Billy, you wrote me a letter a long time ago, didn't you? Well, yes, I did. You know, that letter came at a time when I was pretty far down in the dumps. I was discouraged, lonely. Oh, we read about your wife's death. We were really very sorry. Well, thank you. Billy, you wrote me that I turned you down when you wanted me to write a Mac for you. Well, please forget that. I was just a fresh kid, and I should have known better. Well, I'm sorry about it, Billy. Oh, no, Mr. Cohen. Billy realizes how silly it was. No, I don't think it was. Anyhow, you don't envy me anymore, do you, Billy? Well, no, I guess not. Now the shoe's on the other foot. I envy you. What do you mean? I envy your life on the river, Billy. And you know, someday I'd like to dig out one of my old plays and bring it to your showboat. We'll make a sum of it all the way from Pittsburgh to New Orleans. What do you think? Uh, George, anytime you feel the urge, the floating palace of wonder will be honored to have you aboard. Play or no play. Well, thank you, Billy, Mrs. Bryant. And thanks for seeing me. I'll probably catch the show again tomorrow. Well, good night. Oh, Billy, I think I'm going to cry. That wonderful man. Can you think that was a man I'd been jealous of for all those years? Oh, Billy. Honey, what's the matter? Billy, it's spring and the dogwood's coming out along the river. Yeah. The willows will be turning apple green again. Mm-hmm. Say, Billy, can you hear a calliope? I guess we both hear one. Hi. I miss the river people, Billy. Our people. Dad doing his magic act. The mom and her guitar. Yeah. Flowing her dance. Those warm spring nights, the negro singing on the levee. Oh, Billy. Billy, I miss the river. Joe, we're not going to miss it anymore. We've hit Broadway and now let's go back to our own. That's our life, Joe. Oh, darling, I've wanted you to say that ever since I saw the first robin. Then it's back to the river, honey. Our river. Willows on the banks. Dogwood showing pink and white through the greens. People running down the landing to our boat. The smell of river mists in the morning. The cats are just begging to be caught. That's for us, Joe. That's for us. Turn to our cable game marker phone in a moment. Now, here is Gaines Whitman. In the romantic adventure stories about pirates that youngsters love so well, there are always treasure chests crammed with Spanish doubloons. We have what might be called a chemical treasure chest at the DuPont Company, full of things that mean far more to the health, wealth and happiness of mankind than any pirate chest of Spanish gold. It's a room, a room about the size of an ordinary living room lined from floor to ceiling with shelves. On the shelves are bottles and jars. Some of the jars look as if they have jelly in them. Others are filled with powders, blue, red, yellow, all the colors of the rainbow. Each jar is labeled with a name or a formula number. Our treasure chest is just as glamorous as the chests in the pirate stories. We know what the materials in the bottles are. We made them, and we can make them again. But we don't know everything they will do. No one knows. But we'll try to find out as fast as we can. Will this white powder be a new agricultural chemical? Will that gray powder become the basis of a useful drug for which medical science has long been searching? Only time will provide the answers. Doctors and other scientific investigators come to us for compounds they can't buy or can't make. They may ask for a sample of a quaternary ammonium salt, or we may get a letter with a long chemical name in it, saying, can you supply 50 grams of 2-amino 8-mapsol or 3-6 disophonic acid? And quite often, we can supply men engaged in research with otherwise unattainable materials, which they need in their studies. When the Department of Agriculture was working on phenotyazine, now regarded as an outstanding medicine for farm livestock, DuPont furnished government scientists with the sample they needed. When an American physician returned from London with the first report of the marvelous sulfur drugs, it was our research laboratories that were able to supply the laboratory of the Johns Hopkins Hospital with their first sample of sulfur nemium. New and valuable uses often come after years of research efforts. It was about 70 years after DDT had first been made that its usefulness as an insecticide was discovered. DuPont is trying its level best to open new possibilities as rapidly as it can for the things in its chemical treasure chest. And there's no telling what continued research may bring forth in the way of DuPont better things for better living through chemistry. Wait a minute, James. That was nice going and very interesting, but you've never been on a showboat, have you? Well, no, I have, it's fine. Well, there was something, I don't know how to explain it, it needed a touch, the Billy Bryant touch. For example? Well, let's see what else you've got there. There, here you are, John. Oh, now listen. Yes, sir, ladies and gentlemen, this is Billy Bryant Hodiak reminding you that next week the Cavalcade of America will present the one and only Walter Pigeon. See what I mean, game crunch, show us. Well, go on, OK. Next week, Walter Pigeon starring in Remember's Day, a story about Abraham Lincoln. See, that's good. Yes, sir, yes, sir. Miss Janet Blair appears through the courtesy of Columbia Pictures and can presently be seen starring in the Columbia musical Tars and Spars. So why don't you speak to yourself, John? Well, what do you mean by, I mean Janet? Well, you listen to this. Yes, sir, yes, sir. This is Mrs. Billy Bryant Blair reminding you that John Hodiak may currently be seen in the Metro Golden Mayor Technical and Musical. There are a lot of you girls. Well, will you excuse me? Yes, ma'am. This is Cavalcade of America, Whitman, reminding you that we have to get off the air at some time. I'm thanking you, John Hodiak and Janet Blair for being with us tonight. This is a nice-to-find Cavalcade with composed and conducted by Robert Armbruster. A Cavalcade play was written by Walter Hank Richards and was based on the book Children of Old Man River by Billy Bryant. In the cast of Mr. Hodiak and Miss Blair were Frances X. Bushman, Carl Witherspoon, Louise Erikson, Herbert Rawlinson, Tommy Bernard, Richard Ryan, Horace Murphy, Don Brody, and Bill Duvall. This is Tom Collins inviting you to listen next week to Walter Benjamin in Remembered Day or Abe Lincoln's Answer on the Cavalcade of America. We'll see you by the DuPont Company of Wormington, Delaware. Then DC, the National Broadcasting Company.