 Good turn brings rich reward for a man 19 years later. Firefly catching is an industry. 20% of all American motorists escape head-on collisions by one second. Can you imagine that? Well, as usual, those statements are true. And in just a moment or two, my able cast of actors and I are going to be back with you to prove them and others. Wait for us, won't you? Oh, by the way, this is Lindsay McCurry. And here's our first item for this time. Listen. 20% of all American motorists escape head-on collisions by one second. That's an amazing statement, isn't it? But it's true. According to a report made to the American Psychological Association in Columbus, Ohio in 1938, T.W. Forbes and T.M. Mattson of Yale University took motion pictures of hundreds of automobiles whose drivers never knew they were being spied upon. These two men were trying to find out just how much time the average motorist allowed while passing a car going in his direction and while another car was coming toward him from the opposite direction. Their motion pictures proved that one out of every five drivers allowed less than one second to get back into his own lane again and avoid a head-on collision. The time between these two bells is one second. The next time you attempt to pass another car, please leave yourself more time than that to avoid the horror of a major accident, won't you? Remember the wise old saying, a stitch in time saves nine. And do you remember, too, the wisdom of another ancient philosopher? Good deeds are like the seed that is sown in the spring. At first there is not the show above the earth. But at the harvest, the golden grain brings rich reward to him who has sown. Of course, he meant that sooner or later a good deed is bound to bring to its doer the good fortune he deserves. And the proof lies in this little story that comes from a newspaper of August 18, 1919. It was on the afternoon of August 17 in that year that patrolman Francis Caddell of the First Precinct was on duty in the information booth at the Manhattan end of the Brooklyn Bridge. Car after car passed over the bridge and no one wanted information until... Hey, I guess everybody knows where they're going. Nobody's... I guess I was wrong. There's somebody now. The big car, too. Be back in a minute, Ed. Yes, sir? What can I do for you? I want to know how to get to Coney Island. Coney Island? Well, sir, you... you, uh... Yes? I thought I'd seen you someplace before. Guess I was wrong. Now, to get to Coney Island, you were... Just a minute. I thought I recognized you, too. Have you ever been in California? California? No, no, never. I guess we're both wrong. Well, go straight across the bridge and follow the highway. You can't miss it. Thank you. Goodbye. You're welcome. Funny. I could swear I know him, and he... Hey, he's backing up. What's the matter? Decided not to go to Coney Island? Nope, but I've decided where I know you from. We were right when we thought we knew each other. Yeah, sir. Listen, weren't you on duty in the barry about 15 or 20 years ago in 19-2, to be exact? Yeah, I... Holy smoke. Say, you're not... I am. Sure I am. Remember, I was down and out. My clothes were in red. Sure, you were plenty hungry. That's right, and I was broke. I came back to California where I'd come from. Did you? You bet. I got into the canning business and made a fortune. Oh, I've got you to thank for everything. Oh, forget it. Forget it, nothing. You're coming back to California with me, and you're going to have a swell job in my cannery, and I'm not going to take no for an answer. And did Petroman Cadell take the job? You just bet he did, and thus, for a good deed performed 19 years before, he reaped a rich reward through chance meeting and being stationed at an information booth on just the right day. To those of us who may be fatalists or believe that when our numbers up, we go, here's an item that seems to prove it. Prove it with stark tragedy. It was early in the year 1939 that Michael McCabe, 42 years old of Chicago, set out one morning to go to his job. Now that isn't startling, it's just commonplace. Everyday routine for most of us. But suddenly, Michael McCabe stopped and snapped his fingers and first and discussed. Then a slow smile must have spread over his face in amusement, that is, forgetfulness, as he remembered he was going to work on his day off. Just a bit fully, she thought. But what difference does that make? He could work today and take the day off later in the week. So he walked onward. Then he arrived at work at a fuel company. Hey, Mike, what you doing here today? Ain't it your day off? Yeah, but I forgot. Don't make any difference anyway, because I can take a day off later on. Okay, one day's as good as the other, huh? Sure. So Michael McCabe worked on. Hey, Jim, hand me the wrench, will ya? Mike! Mike! Look out! Look out! That conveyor! Yes, on the day that was supposed to be a holiday for Michael McCabe, he went to work. On that day, a portable steel conveyor fell and crushed Michael McCabe to death. I wonder if it would have fallen in the same spot the next day. Here's a strange sort of industry I found the other day. Firefly catching. Yes, indeed it's a fact that in Japan and China, fireflies are captured for commercial purposes. One purpose is the manufacture of medicines. Pulses, pills, and various drugs peculiar to the practice of the medical profession in the audience. Another use is for the manufacture of Hotaru no Abura, which is really firefly grease. This substance is applied to articles made of bent bamboo, and it has been found to impart rigidity to the bamboo. The principal center for firefly catching is around Ishiyama, Japan, near the Lake of Omi. A number of merchants there employ from 60 to 70 firefly catchers, and during the summer season, expert catchers have been known to catch as many as 3,000 of the phosphorescent insects in one night. Genuine imaginette. Now the musical portion of this genuine imaginette will bring back fond memories to those who harken back to the years 1912 and 15. For it was in those years that the castles, Vernon and Irene were the dancing sensations. Bustanabe's restaurant in New York was the Mecca for those who liked to sway to the seductive and languorous rhythms of the tango. Not only was Bustanabe's fame for its orchestra or its cuisine, but it was later to be famous as the place where a young man named Rudolph Valentino got his start. It was in those days that a number called Trémotard, in English, too much mustard was sweeping the country. People were dancing the turkey trot to it, the bunny hug and the Gotham gobble. It was in the famous old Bustanabe's restaurant in New York's 39th Street, near 6th Avenue that music publisher Edward B. Marks noted the fine sense of rhythm and natural gift of music possessed by the young pianist of the orchestra. Now, Trémotard was selling plenty of copies and the Marks firm had no tune to match it. So Edward B. Marks approached the young pianist and asked, excuse me, but did you ever compose anything? No, I never composed anything in this country. I see. Well, have you ever heard of a turkey trot called Trémotard? Trémotard? I know. Well, it's sweeping the country and I want to tune like it. Do you think you can write one? No, maybe I can. All right, I'll tell you, here's my card. You come to our offices in a day or so and maybe we can get together on something. How about it? Well, all right, I'll do it. True to his word, the young pianist showed up at the offices of the Marks firm. Once there, Marks' partner Joseph W. Stern sat down with the young man and... Now look, here's the construction of the turkey trot. I'll run through it for you and you can see how it's built. Listen. You can write one something like it. Yeah, a turkey trot that we can sell. You think you can do it? Well, yes. I think I can. Good. Yeah, yeah, that's fine. Get right to work on it because we want it and we want it quick. So the young man set to work and he composed not one but two turkey trots. One was called Some Smoke and the Other Leg of Mutton. These two compositions were even given French titles in order to follow in the wake of popularity of Trémotard. But the titles aren't nearly as important as the name of the young Hungarian composer which appeared on the sheet music. That name was later to become famous as belonging to a musical genius who composed more than 60 successful light operas. And that name, Sigmund Romberg. Can you imagine that? And now we're going to ask our orchestra to play the French importation which was responsible for the discovery of Romberg by Edward Marx and Joseph Stern. Here it is, a modernized version of the famous old turkey trot, Trémotard. Hardwood set the country wriggling and squirming in turkey trots and bunny hugs which gave Sigmund Romberg his first real recognition. I'm going to turn you back to your own station announcer and until the next time we meet, there's a Lindsey McCarrie saying goodbye now.