 Family Theatre presents Don DeFore and Maureen O'Sullivan. The mutual network in cooperation with Family Theatre Incorporated brings you Maureen O'Sullivan, John Daener and Lorine Tuttle in a transcription of Bomb Barks, Fountain of Youth. To introduce the drama, your host, Don DeFore. Thank you, Gene. Thank you. Almost from the beginning of time, men have dreamed of finding perpetual youth. Many legends have been told of strange elixirs and talismans that could make this dream of enduring youth come true. But it took the gifted pen of Rudolf Bombach, the famous German poet and storyteller, to give us what is probably the most heartwarming and unusual tale ever written concerning such a dream. A story that in my estimation places forever in their proper niche, all such fairy tales and fancies. But let Maureen O'Sullivan let tell us of you now. The Story of the Fountain of Youth by Rudolf Bombach. Once upon a time, as all good fairy tales start, in a land far across the sea, there lived a young woodchopper named Hans and his beautiful golden-haired wife, Greta. They would deeply ad love these two and very happy. Very happy indeed. Life to them was as sweet as the songs of the birds that fill the forests around the small cabin where they lived. And they asked nothing more of life than to live together, contented and happy as they were. Now it was Greta's habit to bring food and drink to Hans for his lunch when he was working. And so on a certain summer beautiful day we find her making her way to the clearing where he was busily cutting down trees. Now isn't that strange? I could have sworn I heard a fairy princess calling to me. Greta? Greta, why so it is? And I was right. The fairy princess was calling me, the most beautiful one I've ever seen. Oh, Hans. In fact, she's so beautiful I must hold her in my arms to make certain that she's real. Be careful now. You'll spill the lunch basket. And I didn't spill your basket at all. Then perhaps you should stop that foolishness and begin eating as you waste the whole day. I shall indeed, but first I have a little chore to do. Oh, Hans, surely you're not going to cut down that tree before launch? No, no, no, Greta. I'll be with you in a moment. There, there, that will do it nicely. He crosses into that tree. And of course that was for the wood sprites. Wood sprites? Don't you know that this is the longest day of the year? The one day that wood sprites can become visible? They can. Well certainly all one has to do is to call to them. But what are the three crosses to do with that? Well, if the poor little creatures can find a tree such as that one the three crosses will protect them from all harm. Shall I call out a wood spike to prove it to you? Oh, Hans, you mean that one can really call? Oh, you're joking with me. Wood sprites? Oh, wood sprites. I command you to appear. Hans, the wood chopper commands you to appear. Hans, you're just being silly. Is he young girl? Or are you the silly one? Hans! Well, where did you come from, old woman? What kind of a foolish question is that? You called me, didn't you? Called you? You mean that your real goodness I never heard such silly creatures in my life. What else do you think I could be if it wasn't a wood sprite? She didn't look like a wood sprite. She was old and wore ragged clothes. And instead of wearing mistletoe in her hair as all good wood sprites do, she wore weeds. But there she was in response to Hans's call. So what else could she be but a wood sprite? That was a good deed, young man, cutting those three crosses into the tree. And I'm going to do a good deed for you in return. Oh, well, that isn't at all necessary. Don't tell me what's necessary, young man. I've been a wood sprite a good long time. I guess I know what's necessary or not. Well, now let's get started. Come along with me. Oh, where are we going? What difference does it make? I'm taking you, aren't I? Well, the wood sprite started off and our two friends followed her. After a while they came to a little clearing in the center of which was a sparkling clear spring. The wood sprite led them over to it and they stopped there. Well, there it is. What do you think of it, hm? I, uh, it's a very nice spring. Yes, it has water and everything. Is that all you have to say? Here you are, the only two humans who've ever seen the Fountain of Youth. And all you can say is that it's nice and has water in it. Did, did you say the Fountain of Youth? Of course that's what I said, young man. But would you mind telling us, wood sprite? What does the Fountain of Youth do? What does it do? Why it keeps you young, that's what it does. Person has only to drink that water to stay young till the day of his natural death. That's what the Fountain of Youth does. Now, fill this jug here with water and carry it home with you. You wanna see that? Don't slap it around and spill it. Won't last forever. Just a drop to drink every Sunday is enough to keep you young. A drop every Sunday? Yes, yes, yes. Now fill your jug and get home with you. Goodness. And I hope no more of these human beings do any good deeds for me today. It's an awfully trying experience for a wood sprite. Awfully trying. Greta and Hans fill their jug with the precious water from the Fountain of Youth and hurried home just as fast as they could. And when they reached their little cottage and were safe inside with the door locked behind them, they stood there, looking at each other. Well, Hans? Well, Greta? She could have been just... just an old woman. Oh, yes, yes, that's right. And there couldn't possibly be a Fountain of Youth. Oh, no, of course not. Who ever heard of such a thing? If she really was a wood sprite. And if the water really did come from a Fountain of Youth, I think, Greta, I think that we really do possess a jug of water from the Fountain of Youth. We're young now, Greta. We'll put it on a shelf in the cupboard until the time comes when we shall need it. And then the two of us shall remain young for the rest of our natural lives. The next year was the happiest that Greta and Hans had ever known. Perhaps it was because they knew that jug of precious water was on the cupboard shelf. Perhaps it was because their love just naturally increased with every passing day. Or perhaps it was because they came into their household another being to share their joys and happiness with them. Isn't he a happy baby, though, Greta? Yes, and a handsome one, too. He looks just like his father. Oh, no, Greta, he does not. He looks... do you really think so? Of course I do, just like you. Well, look at those husky shoulders. Oh, he'll make a good woodcutter all right. He'll be the best in the forest. You can tell it by just looking at him. You know, you... Look, he's fallen asleep. Greta, it's a wonderful thing being parents. Yes, Hans. Wonderful. Hans, do you remember what your father looked like to you when you were but a little boy? Yeah, quite clearly. He looked to me like an old man. And yet he was no older, really, than you are now. No, no, he wasn't. And of course in a few years more, you, um... Well, we'll look even older. Yes, yes, that's true. Hans, do you think we... Well, isn't doing any good just sitting on the shelf? And the wood sprite did say it would work? Certainly would do no harm to try. You wait right here, Greta. I'll fetch it for us right away. Well, there it is. Precious water. Just imagine, one drop every Sunday, and my beautiful Greta will always be young. And my son can never refer to me as that old man his father. Well, come down, Jug. Who? Who say? That Jug is slippery. The moisture on the outside, I can hardly hold it. No, no, no, look out! Don't! Don't! The Jug. It's broken. And the water of the fountain of youth has spilled all over the floor. Greta, how can I tell her? I've robbed my Greta of permanent use. How can I tell her? I won't tell her. I'll fill another Jug with well water. We'll drink that now. Then I'll find the fountain of youth, bring back some more of its water home, and all will be fine again. Well, here we are, Greta. I'll just pour a drop of water in a spoon. There. Now, uh, tasted. Uh, well, Greta. Isn't that strange, Hans? It tastes just as though it came from our very own well. From our very own well? Well, how can you say such a thing? But it must be different. No, Hans, it tastes just the same. Oh, it does. But I know, nevertheless, that it is water from the fountain of youth. You do. Guys, I feel different already. So refreshed, so strengthened. Oh, this is indeed a magic water, Hans. It is indeed the water of perpetual youth. What could Hans do, then? The water from their very own well had made Greta so happy, had made her feel so wonderful he just couldn't tell her the truth then. So he kept quiet about it, and the very next day, when he went out to work in the forest, he began his search for the little clearing with the sparkling spring in the center. He didn't find the spring that day, so he tried again on the next, and the next. And the weeks went by, and the months, and the years. Every Sunday, just before they left for church, Greta and Hans drank a drop of the well water from the jug, and Greta bloomed like a rose. And seeing her do so, Hans kept postponing his confession, hoping in his heart that someday he'd find the magic spring. But he never did. Now it so happened that one day, while Greta was dusting, she opened the door to the treasure cupboard. There, time she had, searched the forest for the clearing and the bubbling spring, but she never found them either, and time went on. Weeks, months, and every Sunday before going to church, each one took a drop from the jug. Now to be perfectly truthful, Greta's chin had grown double, and Hans' hair was quite a bit thinner on top. But those were the days before mirrors had been invented, so neither of them saw these things for themselves. And in their eyes, their beloved one was as young, as handsome, and as beautiful as ever. Today, Hans thought that last the time had come when he must tell Greta the truth. Greta, Greta, look at this. Well, it's a hair, isn't it, Hans? It's a hair that came from my head this very morning. It's, um, it's gray. Gray? Well, what of it, Hans? Well, if I have gray hair, well, perhaps I am growing old. Old? Wow, why, that's nonsense. Growing old, indeed, with our magic water. But that's just it, Greta, the water. You see, long ago I... Long ago I, too, had gray hair, you foolish boy. Even when I was only ten years of age, many people do. But, but, Greta... Now let's hear no more nonsense, Hans. Well, you look just as handsome, just as young as you did on the day we were married. Then some months later, Greta thought her opportunity for telling the truth had arrived. What is it, Greta? Oh, Hans, I've broken a tooth on this mutton bone. Oh, what a pity. Yes, it seems that my teeth aren't so strong anymore. And, uh, they say that's a sign that, well, perhaps one is growing old. Growing old? How could that be, Greta? Well, I think it's the water. Oh, the water, indeed. Well, you think it can possibly be good for everything? Yes, that's true, Hans. Oh, then stop being so foolish, my sweet. You're as sound and as fresh as a rose, and lovelier than the loveliest one that... Oh, Hans. Hans, my dearest. As long as you think that, nothing else matters. Nothing. ...years had gone by, and their children were grown, and had children of their own. Greta and Hans were sitting in the doorway of their cottage, watching the fireflies make patterns of light against the dark of the summer night sky. Hans? Hans, do you know what day it is tomorrow? Tomorrow? Why, no, no, I don't. It's the longest day of the year, Hans. The day in which the woods' rights become visible. Why, yes, yes, that's right, I'd forgotten. Why don't we spend the day in the forest? We haven't done that for such a long time. Don't you think that would be nice? Oh, a wonderful idea, Greta. We'll do it. But now, don't get angry when I awaken you early in the morning. I know how you young girls are on summer days, lazy heads, that's what, young lazy heads. Early the next morning, Hans and Greta enter the forest. They walk together like young lovers, each giving heed to the steps of the other. Why, Hans? You leaped over that root like you were a young boy. What's your skirts there, my young girl? Jumping so high that way, we'll have them flying all over. They sat down under an old tree and opened the lunch basket that Greta had brought with them. It's too bad I'm so hungry today. There probably isn't a thing worth eating in there. Oh, you silly boy, Hans. When are you going to grow up a little? Grow up? Never, Greta. Never. We'll let this old tree do all the aging around here. We'll let this old... What is it, Hans? Look, Greta, at the trunk of this tree, there under the third big bow. Hans, well, there are three old scars on it, shape like... like crosses. Yes, yes, the three crosses I cut with my axe so many years ago. This is the very spot where the wood sprite appeared to us on that day. There, then over yonder must lie the clearing and the fountain of youth bubbling in its sanctuary. Come, come, Greta. Let's run over there and see if we can find it again. There it is, Hans, of you. Yes, yes, imagine. After all these years, we've found it again. Oh, look at it bubbling up there so beautiful, spiky and thin. I'm going to look into it. No, no, Greta, no. Don't look into the water. Why not? There's no danger. I beg of you, Greta, don't. Don't look into... Yes, Greta. Hans, in the spring, I saw an old woman, an old woman with her grey hair and a wrinkled face. She was looking up at me out of the water. Oh, well, let me look, Greta. Well, Hans, do you see her? No, Greta, but I do see an old, old man. Hello, old man. Here, give me your hand. We'll look together. There they are, Greta. The two of them now. Old, old people with the look of youth long gone from them. Do you know who they are, my darling? Yes, Hans. Yes, I know. We're seeing ourselves as we really are. It was all my fault, Greta. If I hadn't been so clumsy and broken the jug of water so many years ago... But it was I who broke the jug, Hans. I was the one who... You? Greta, you broke the jug, too? Yes, Hans, well-dusted. But I didn't know that you were... And did you fill another with well water, too? Yes! Yes, I did. Did you? Oh, Hans! Oh, Hans! And all these years, I was afraid to tell you. I didn't want to hurt your feelings. I felt so badly about it and I never could find the spring again. No, Hans. No, Hans. I look for it, too. Now, what in the world are you two old fools cackling about? Yes, the wood sprite again. What do you mean again? I never saw you before. Well, of course you did. Many years ago. You gave us water from the fountain of youth. I gave you water. I never gave anyone water. Must have talked to my grandmother. Your grandmother? Of course. If she gave you any water from any fountain of youth, you certainly spilled it somewhere. Look at you. You're older than I. Well, that was just it. We did spill it. Oh, you did, huh? So that's why you're sneaking around here now. You think that that spring is the fountain of youth, is that it? Well, we know it's the fountain of youth. You, I mean, your grandmother, told us it was. Oh, of course, of course. My grandmother told you it was. What made you believe her, huh? She said that it was. You don't mean that it's really not the... I'm not saying anything. You can find out easily enough. Dip your heads into it. If it's the fountain of youth, you'll see a miracle. You'll grow young again. And if it's not, what are you waiting for? Dip your heads into it. Greta? Fawns, I... It probably is the fountain of youth, Greta. Yes, I do believe it is, Fawns. Oh, no, Fawns, no. I don't want to be young again. No, no, neither do I, Greta. You only knew how happy I am that I may be old at last. Oh, yes, it was so hard and troublesome staying young all the time. Besides, we wouldn't dare get young again now. What would our children say in our grandchildren? Well, don't stand there talking all day long. You're going to dip into the fountain or not. No gracious wood sprite, and a thousand thanks for your generous offer, but we will remain as we are. Yes, yes, we will remain this way, if you don't mind. We'll stay all at last. All right, all right, be fools if you want to. Goodness, I hope no more of these human beings come around here today. It's an awfully trying experience for a wood sprite. An awfully trying experience. Fawns, Fawns, you know something. You make an awfully handsome old man. Oh, Greta, darling, with your gray hair, your lovely mother, grandmother highs, you make a beautiful old lady. Then when you have no, no regrets. Regrets? Oh, no, no, Greta, no. I have no regrets. Come, give me your hand. I think it's time we went home. And so Greta and Hans kissed each other there beside the bubbling fountain, and then walked slowly home. And though I'm sure I don't have to tell you this, they lived happily forever after. Thank you, thank you, Moreno Sullivan, for bringing us the beautiful legend of the Fountain of Youth. You know, I'll bet this story moved a lot of people in our family theater audience to do some reminiscing. I mean those men and women who have been married a long time now, who have known all the joys and weathered all the storms that come to ever marriage. Yes, men and women who can look into each other's faces and see written there the history of all their years together. Those years which put to a test the promise they made when they repeated the words for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. They are the ones who realize that love can grow, though beauty fades. They know that marriage is not a thing of the moment. It's made up of a thousand little things of daily living. The troubles and joys, big and little, all shared together. They know too that every marriage needs God in it, needs His help and protection. They know the value of prayer. For they have known times when prayer was their only hope, and their prayers were answered. Well, we who are younger, the new generation of fathers and mothers, don't have their experience, but well, certainly we can learn from it. We can guarantee our future by remembering always that the family that prays together stays together. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. From Hollywood Family Theater has brought you The Fountain of Youth, starring Marina O'Sullivan with Nandi Ford as your host. Marine Tuttle was heard as Greta, John Dana as Hans and Peggy Weber as the wood scribe. This transcription of Rudolf Bombach's classic was written by Sidney Marshall with music by Harry Zimmerman and was directed for Family Theater by Jaime Del Valle. These Family Theater broadcasts are made possible by the thousand of you who felt the need for this type of program and by the mutual network which has responded to this need. This is Gene Baker inviting you to join us next week at the same time when Family Theater will bring you Danny Thomas and Audrey Totter in the story of Joyce Kilmer. Join us, won't you?