 Remember a Hallmark card when you carry enough to send the very best. Donald Kerry in Stephen Foster, America's troubadour, on the Hallmark Playhouse. To Hollywood's greatest stars in outstanding stories, chosen by one of the world's best known authors, the distinguished novelist, Mr. James Hilton. Gentlemen, this is James Hilton. Tonight on our Hallmark Playhouse, we give you scenes from the life of a man who has been well-cold, America's troubadour, Stephen Foster, and we have used in doing so John Tasker Howard's biography. If you count popularity, Stephen Foster comes pretty high on the list of song-makers of all times and countries. But he was more than popular. His tunes had a quality and a sincerity that made them far outlast the immediate acclaim they won. America's troubadour was indeed a figure in America's history. The songs he wrote were sung by the fireside and on the battlefield, from the concert platform and in the mining camp. To play the part of Stephen Foster tonight, we have invited that excellent Hollywood actor, McDonald Kerry. And now here is Frank Goss from the makers of Hallmark cards. When you want to remember your friends, there's one way to be sure the card you send receives an extra welcome. Look for that identifying Hallmark on the back when you select it. For words to express your feelings and designs to express your good taste, that Hallmark on the back is your guide. Like the sterling on silver, it's a mark of distinction that all quickly recognize. And it tells your friends you cared enough to send the very best. Hallmark Playhouse presents John Tasker Howard's Stephen Foster, America's troubadour, starring McDonald Kerry. Here was just beginning. It was January 1864. On the windowsill of a cheap lodging house, snow was glistening. And outside in the street below, a beggar with his fiddle scraped out a song about a home far removed from New York's bowery. The dark-eyed young man stirred in his bed and then raised himself up on one elbow. The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home. To summer, the people are gay. The corn tops ripe and the meadows in the bloom, while the birds make music all the day. Yes, it's a good song. I knew it was good when I wrote it because it was about the things I loved. About home. My home. Not Kentucky, but Pennsylvania. The big old house and Ma and Pa. They tried so hard to understand me. But how could they when I didn't understand myself? I found a soprano that can both stay on key and the fence post at the same time. Steve, I wish you wouldn't play your flute. Right not right now. Your father's waiting to talk to you. Oh? What's wrong Ma? Pa's just heard from Washington. About West Point? Yes. The Academy isn't going to take me. No. It's terribly hard to get an appointment, dear. Your father used to have influence when he was in the legislature and when he was mayor, but... It's all right, Ma, really it is. Maybe I'll go into the Navy. I don't care too much what I do. But you've got to care, Steve. That's the trouble. You're going on 20. You've got to think of your future. Well, what do you want to be? Oh, maybe a sailor or a riverboat pilot. Or better still, a minstrel man. Misty and locket. I have here a conundrum, sir. A conundrum, if you please. No minstrel show. Sometimes I wish you'd never seen one. Oh, Ma, you said yourself I was the best end man you ever heard. Well, yes, dear, for a four-nine-year-old boy. Oh, Ma. Well, it's one thing to play make-believe when you're a child. But now, oh, Steve, you just can't sing and dance your way through life. Oh, perhaps Pa and I aren't the ones to advise you. You might pay more attention if it came from Jane. Jane? Why, Jane, you're imagining things. Of course I wasn't interested in Jane MacDowell. We were merely friends. Oh, I used to drop by to see her occasionally. We'd sit in the parlor and eat ice cream and talk about music. And sometimes I'd play her a little song I'd written. But then, one evening, soon after the disappointment about West Point, I called to say goodbye. Cincinnati's a long way off, Steve. Yes, a thousand-mile boat trip down the Ohio. It must be exciting to be a man. To go wherever you want, do whatever you please. Oh, there are men and men, Jane. My brother Dunning is in Cincinnati. He needs a bookkeeper and by unanimous vote of the Foster family, it's time I became a solid man of business. And your music? Oh, it was only a kind of game with me anyway. They say, though, that in Europe, music is respected as an art, but not here. America's too busy pushing back the frontier, too busy building towns and cities, but maybe someday, what's the matter with this work? We're getting much too serious. There are times when one should be. Steve, before you go, sit down here at the piano. Oh, Jane. Oh, please, Steve, just for old time's sake. Well, when I was 16, my first published song on to Cincinnati. There was a town to send the blood racing through a man's veins. I stood on deck peering through the haze to catch the first sight of my new home. Beautiful sight. Great white stern wheelers churned up the river from St. Louis and far off New Orleans. The docks swarmed with singing stevedores. Bales of cotton from the south and crates of farm tools for the south. Guns and supplies for the far west and animal skins from the far west. Freight was the business of Cincinnati and of Irwin and Foster, offices on Cassidy's Row. Bookkeeping may seem dull work to you, Steve, but it will prepare you for a more important job. You know, Dunning, Cincinnati's almost like a southern town. Kentucky's right across the river and in the streets, everybody sounds like he's from Louisiana or Mississippi. There's music and everything they say. Yes. How about the business, Steve? My partner and I are chartering our own freight boat, so in addition to your bookkeeping, you'll have to go down to the docks and watch over the loading. We keep the manifest in this table here. Steve, Steve, please pay attention. Dunning, listen, a brass band. Oh, yes, you'll hear plenty of men. It's just a parade for tonight's minstrel show. A minstrel show? Oh, Cincinnati, I'm gonna love you. And I did. Music was everywhere. The Ohio flowed past like a melody. The stevedores were the chorus and the soft laughter of southern girls filled in the grace notes. And always the minstrel shows. The stern wheelers from St. Louis brought the sable harmonists, the Ethiopian Glee Club, and Christie's famous minstrels. Yes, sir? Mr. Christie? That's right, sir. My name is Foster. I've written a song I thought you might like. If you'll come back after the performance. I have a copy of it right here, sir. It might work as a comedy piece for your car. Well, we can't play for it. You understand? Oh, I don't expect you to, Mr. Christie. I'm not a professional composer. All right, I'll take a look at it. What do you call it? Oh, Susanna. It was dry. The sun's so hot I froze to death. Susanna, don't you cry. It was a nonsense song. But Christie liked it. Yes, everybody seemed to like it. But I was still just a bookkeeper. The months dragged along, 1846, 1847, and then spring, 1848. Steve, Steve, they're going crazy down at the docks. Somebody says there's gold in California. The rush was on and Cincinnati swelled with the restless thousands eager for passage to the west. My brother and his partner sent their boats down to Ohio, up the Mississippi, past St. Louis, and on into the Missouri to the final jumping-off spot, the beginning of the covered wagon trail to St. Joe. Gunning and I used to stand on the dock and watch and wonder how many of them will ever see California, Steve, or their own homes again. Mad and mad and sane and happy. Listen to them singing my song. Yeah, and not one of them knows you wrote it. The marching song of the gold rush with thousands of copies sold and yet, and yet the sheet music doesn't even name the composer. Say that again, Gunning. Say what? Composer. Because that's what I'm going to be. Done. I'm through with bookkeeping. Oh, Susanna's shown me what I want to do, what I have to do. I'm going to write songs, love songs, comedy songs, songs for dancing, songs about home, songs and more songs for all America to sing. We will return to the second act of Stephen Foster, America's troubadour starring MacDonald Carey. Since you can't reach in your radio and grab me, I guess I'm safe in reminding you it's about time to make your New Year's resolutions. If you're anything like me, you'll probably resolve to be more thoughtful about remembering anniversaries, birthdays and such. If so, you'll be interested in knowing there's a little present waiting for you. It's a gift from the fine store where you buy hallmark cards. It's the Hallmark Date Book. Here's a handy book to help you remember. You'll find every day of 1952 arranged in calendar form with plenty of space for writing in the names of the people you want to remember on that date. There's room for addresses too as well as lots of space for your Christmas card list, which you'll probably want to start now while you still have this year's cards. The Hallmark Date Book also has other information you'll find useful during the year, the appropriate gift for each wedding anniversary, the traditional birthstone and flower for each month. Surely you'll find it a big help in being more thoughtful every day of the year. So tomorrow, when you stop in to get your new year's cards, ask for the 1952 Hallmark Date Book. It's a gift from the fine store where you buy hallmark cards as a friendly gesture to convey happy new year wishes to you. To James Hilton and the second act of Stephen Foster, America's troubadour starring MacDonald Kerry. The street outside that chap in New York lodging house, the beggar and his violin bring a flood of memories to Stephen Foster. The man we now call America's troubadour sinks back on his bed and smiles to himself. First came, oh, Susanna. Then, oh, Uncle Ned. Then, Nelly was a lady. Yes, I was a successful songwriter. My head filled with melody and my pockets filled with... nothing. But I didn't care too much. My mind was on more important things. Home, Pennsylvania. Home and my, home and Jane. I had to go back. Mr. Foster. Good evening, Joe. I hope I haven't kept Miss MacDonald waiting too long. Oh, no, sir. You haven't. She was, uh... she was supposed to be waiting for you, Mr. Foster. Yes, I didn't plan to be so later. What's the matter, Joe? Are you blinking or winking at me? Oh, excuse me, sir, but... but Miss MacDonald seems to be with a gentleman right now. Who is it, Joe? And Mr. Cowan, sir. Oh, I see. Joe, is that book I gave Miss MacDonald still in the parlor? I think so, sir. Good. Then I'll have a nice long evening of reading. Mr. Foster, sir. You ain't gonna read right in front of them folks. Not in the same room. Joe, I'm gonna do just that. Let me interrupt, Jane. I'll be quite comfortable, thank you. Comfortable as Richard Cowan was uncomfortable. We both were determined to outstay the other. One hour, and Mr. Cowan surrendered. Jane came back from the front door and I stood up, very formally. Could you? I was never so embarrassed. That's strange. I wasn't. Now, Jane, I want your answer. Is it yes or is it no? Steven, I... If you're in doubt as to my question, this is a formal proposal of marriage. But it's wrong. How is it? Want it to be like you, Steve. Like we've always been with each other. But it's yes. How does your head, honey? That means yes. You can't back out now. I don't want to, darling. She's wonderful. And right now, she's as good as Mrs. Steven Collins Foster. Oh, that's mighty fine news, Miss Jenny. You know something else, Joe. You've been rooting on my side in this courtship, and I'm not forgetting Steve Foster's friend. Someday, I'm going to put you in one of my songs. Jane and I were married. Our daughter was born. She cried a lot at first. I sat at the piano and tried to soothe her with my new song. Old folks at home. Some ways, it was my best song. I was full of songs in those days. The ideas came from everywhere. Are you still reading Uncle Tom's cabin? Jane, there's an idea for a song in this book. How does this sound to you? Oh, good night. Good night. Good night, poor Uncle Tom. Grieve not for your old Kentucky home. Well, I... You mean it's not good. I think you can do better, Steve. You're right, darling. But there is a song somewhere in Uncle Tom's cabin, and I'm going to find it. And it's going to make us money, too. Lots of it. There was a song in that book. My old Kentucky home. And it made money. But not enough. I started to borrow money, and then more money. Jane Newhart was going. One night after she tucked Marion into bed, she sat down across the desk from me. Steve, I went to the grocery store this afternoon. Yes? Mr. Green said we can't have any more until we pay up. I told him I'm expecting a check. Oh, he's heard it too often. Steve, we can't let the baby go hungry. Darling, I'll think of something. I already have. Steve, I'm going to stay with my sister. I'm taking Marion with me. Jeannie. I'll find some sort of work enough to feed the two of us. Jeannie, that's my responsibility. Oh, you tried, dear. I'm the only one who knows how hard you have tried. But we've got to live. We've got to go on somehow until times are better, and we can all be together again. Then you're not really leaving me. Not for good. Oh, my darling, we love each other. Wherever we are, whatever distance separates us, we'll always be together. I couldn't bear the loneliness. I came to New York hoping for new ideas. New luck. Well, we're glad to see you, Mr. Foster. When are we going to have some more of your songs to publish? Soon, I hope, Mr. Reitner. Good, good. You know, your songs are selling all over the world now. Yes, sir. Even the British soldiers fighting in the Crimea singing your music. Only two songs they want. Annie Laurie and Old Folks at Home. There's where the Old Folks stay. One words were coming back to taunt me. Home and Jane and Marion were so far, far away. And then, like the sun coming out of the clouds, my world brightened again. I had money. Yes, and a railroad ticket back to Pennsylvania. Jane had written me that she was working as a telegraph operator for the railroad. It was evening when my train got in. I walked softly up the station platform. Yes, I could see her head through the window. She was bending over the telegraph key. Your voice again. Oh, darling, you're home. It came easily. Gentle Annie, come where my love lies dreaming. Hard times come again no more. I've written only one good song here in New York. Another song for Jeannie. Bring it just for her. Darling, we love each other. Wherever we are, whatever distance separates us, we'll always be together. Oh, Stevie. In 1964, Stephen Foster was taken from his shabby, bowary lodging to Bellevue Hospital, where he died. In his pockets, they found only 38 cents, and a slip of paper on which he had penciled five words, dear friends and gentle hearts. Words for an unfinished song. They were the spirit of America's troubadour, a dear friend and a gentle heart. That which is immortal of Stephen Foster sings on, simply as he would have wished it to sing, but unceasingly on through the years and through the ages. Mrs. leaves behind a bit of sadness, a bit of sweetness. Fortunately for us, we have a scale that balances the two. The scale called friendship lightens the sadness and allows the sweet memories to linger long in our minds. Surely friendship is worth some effort. The Hallmark date book I told you about a few moments ago is not very big, that's true, but it's a great big help to friendship. With it, to remind you of the dates you ought to remember, the friends you ought to think of through the year, you will find your friendships growing and growing through every passing year. So ask for your Hallmark date book for 1952. It's a gift to you from the fine store where you buy Hallmark cards to thank you for your friendship and patronage, and to wish you every happiness in the new year. Here again is James Hilton. McDonnell Kerry, it was a great pleasure to have you with us on the Hallmark Playhouse tonight. Thank you for an excellent performance. Well, thank you, Mr. Hilton, for inviting me. I guess that's about everybody. He enjoys the songs of Stephen Foster. I know I do. That's why I was glad you asked me to play in his story. Yes, Stephen Foster's songs will always be enjoyed wherever good friends get together. You know, speaking of friends, Mr. Hilton, I'd kind of like to have one of those friendship books Frank Goss told us about tonight. I'm always forgetting dates I should remember and that sounds like a good way to keep a friendship list all during the year. It surely is, and we'll see that both you and Mrs. Kerry get a Hallmark date book for the new year. Thank you. That'll be fine. What are you having on the Hallmark Playhouse next week, Mr. Hilton? Next week we have Howard Breslin's The Tamarack Tree, a fine story of New England during America's youth, and as our star, that very likeable young Hollywood actor, Lon McAllister. I hope you'll be listening to our first broadcast of the new year. I'll be listening, Mr. Hilton, and good night. Good night. Our Hallmark Playhouse is every Thursday. Our producer-director is Bill Gay. Our music is composed and conducted by David Rose, and our story tonight was adapted by Leonard Sinclair. And now for all of us here at the Hallmark Playhouse and on behalf of the makers of Hallmark Cards, may I wish you all a very, very happy new year. Until next Thursday then, this is James Hilton saying, good night. That are sold only in stores that have been carefully selected to give you expert and friendly service. Remember a Hallmark card when you will carry enough to send the very best. McDonald's carry appeared tonight through the courtesy of 20th Century Fox Studios, and they currently be seen in Let's Make It Legal. The role of Jane tonight was played by Barbara Eiler, Myra Marsh was the mother, Ted D'Corsia, Chris Day, and Peter Leeds played Dunning. Most home fires are preventable, so guard against fire, especially during the holiday season filled with extra fire hazards. Remember, don't gamble with fire. The odds are against you. This is Frank Goss saying good night to you all until next week at the same time. When Hallmark Playhouse returns to present Lon McAllister in Howard Breslin's The Tamarack Tree. And the week following, Dr. Arthur E. Herzler's horse and buggy doctor, starring Lionel Barrymore. And a week after that, Susan Hertz's Madame Claire on the Hallmark Playhouse. This is the CDS Radio Network. This is KMBC, Kansas City, Missouri.