 Ladies and gentlemen, the Railroad Out. And here comes our star-studded show train. The Association of American Railroads presents a musical impression of Blackmore's famous romance, Lorna Doon, starring Gordon MacRae and his charming guest Dorothy Warren-Show. Our choir is under the direction of Norman Luboff, and the music is prepared and conducted by Carmen Dragon. Yes, tonight another great story with music is brought to you by the American Railroads, the same railroads that bring you the food you eat, the clothes you wear, the fuel you burn, and the multitude of other things you use in your daily life. And now, here is our star, Gordon MacRae. Thank you, Marvin Miller, and good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We are bound for the Moors of England a century ago as we bring you Lorna Doon with Dorothy Warren-Show as the lovely Lorna, and I shall be John Rid who tells the story. You've got to understand about Glen Doon. It's a valley in Devon, the fairest county of all England. Soon after you've seen it, you're lucky to find a musket ball between your eyes, but the danger there doesn't make Glen Doon the less beautiful to see. Do you can Glen Doon with its racing grills and the hills so high that they brush the sky? Do you can John Gray with the leaves like lace where our last highter face in the morning? When the sun sinks low do you can Glen Doon when the air is still in the afternoon? Do you can the sun in the sunset sky as the glades go to sleep till it's more? When the shades are black on the hills of Doon the blades are cut by a misty moon and the warning track of a falling star? Did you bite where you are till it's morning? Do you can Glen Doon by the rising sun? And you run and you look at the sights to see but it's not so fair as it all. Or there's fear on the wind in the morning? Or there's fear on the wind in the morning? There was fear on the wind one morning in my 12th year when I was suddenly called home from school. How I look forward to seeing my father but when I arrived home I was beated only by my mother's tears. Your father is dead John killed by those savages killed by the Doons. A 12 year old boy may have more courage than many a man twice his age. I headed for the valley that no one of our village had ever visited Glen Doon. I knew only one entrance behind the waterfall of bag-worthy stream through the blackness of bag-worthy wood. The Doons had killed my father and I was determined to avenge him. Painfully with the boys daring I climbed the rocky steps of the waterfall. I looked back and saw my father's oldest friend. He had followed me into the woods calling after me. Come back John Rid, how long do you think you'll live in the valley of the Doons? They'll kill you as they kill your father. What would be the good of that? Come home John Rid, find your time. You'll have your vengeance boy. Never fear. I turned back but my hatred for the Doons burned bright through the years. From my 12th to my 20th I finished schooling and more important learned the gentle art of violence as a red coat in the service of the crown. Some talk of Alexander and some of Hercules. Of Pector and Lysander and such great names as these. But of all the world's brave heroes we've never seen appear. The toll-ro-ro-ro-ro-ro-ro to the British grant our dear. When the siege is over we do the town repair. The townsmen cry her raw, boys here comes our grant our dear. May they in their command. Mother, let me look at you. You're the image of your father. There's a score to be settled there mother. Now that I'm out of the service. I won't hear of it. Can the Doons take my father's life and pay no price for it? They've grown more evil John. Robbing and burning across the countryside. No law can touch them. Not the law of God, no man. When I was a boy mother I turned back from Glendule. Now I am a man and I cannot turn back. The great rocky slide of the bag with the falls was still dark and difficult to climb. Though the water which had once touched my knees was now satisfied with my ankles. When I reached the top I looked across the most beautiful and peaceful landscape I have ever seen. I thank the Lord for that. Then what are you doing here? They'll kill you. As they did my father perhaps. Is that why you've come? To avenge your father? A hundred moons have passed since my father died. But I've sworn one of the Doons will die before another moon is new. Please, leave our valley. Our valley? Are you a Doon? No one lives here but members of our clan. Oh, now go away please before they kill you. If you're a Doon, what do you care for my life? Oh, I'm so weary of the killing and the thieving and the fear. Why should you be afraid? Because I am a Doon and there is no one to teach me what is right. A mother or a father? I have no remembrance of mother or father. Although they say my father was the eldest son of Sir Enzo Doon who rules this tribe of robbers. I have heard of Sir Enzo Doon. He must be an old man. A very old man. And when he dies they say I shall be their queen. Queen Lorna, a ruler of this valley of violence. Let me take you away, Lorna Doon. Oh, they're coming. Oh, leave quickly. No. Oh, if you care for me at all, go. I would die to see your blood on the meadows of Glenmoon. Twenty times we met by Starlight. What was safer then than the cool, watery silence behind Bagwitty Falls. And there I learned to love the daughter of my father's enemies. With me, John Rood. Where are we going? I see my grandfather. He is dying and he wishes to speak to you. I have his promise that no one will harm him. Lorna led me past a dozen silent men standing as motionless as great trees and into a low hut. The room was cold and dark with only two sputtering candles. And then I saw him, the oldest man I have ever seen. A upright in a chair, a loose red cloak thrown over him. Death was in his face and only in his great eyes could I see his soul burning. So, you are the great John Rood. John Rood is my name, sir. I am told that you are in love with my granddaughter. You set your eyes above your station. Sir, the rids of war have been honest men twice as long as the dunes have been rose. We have only taken what has been taken from us, such is my father's life. I do not have the strength to speak. Words are knives in my mouth, only promise me, Lorna, you will not see this young man again. She will not promise. We're in love, sir. Do you force me to tell you? Tell me what, grandfather? It was your father who killed John Rood's father, Lorna. And as he fell, his father killed yours. Do you wish the curse of a double murder always over your heads? Do you wish? Then, as in a terrible dream, we knew Sir Ansordun was dead. And the head of this tribe of robbers was now my beloved. I fled from Glendun, my heart in a turmoil. Oh, did ever two people love under such a shadow? The hills and downs entlead. I'll sing a lover's song with you, and you will sing. We will continue with Act 2 of Lorna Dunes. Over the years, America's ability to defend herself and the principles for which she stands has come to depend more and more on new and fantastic weapons and machinery. During World War II, for example, over 90% of all military freight traffic in this country moved by rail and over 97% of all organized troop movements traveled by train, including both military and civilian traffic. The railroads during the war years handled more than two-thirds of all freight moving between our cities. And today, as we use and enjoy our highways and skyways and waterways, it's well to keep in mind that in peace as in war, our standard of living as well as our military defense rests firmly on the railroads' unique three-fold abilities. First, their vast and flexible hauling capacity. Second, their extraordinary efficiency and economy in the use of men and fuel. Third, their ability to haul anything in any quantity anywhere in any season of the year, regardless of weather, over their highly organized system of steel rails, rails that reach into every corner of the country. And because there is no form of transportation in existence or in sight that can match the railroads in all these respects, the railroads will continue to remain the basic transportation arm of this great nation. Now, here is act two of Lawrence and Lee's musical impression of Lorna Dune, starring Gordon Macrae as John Ridd and Dorothy Warren-Scholl as Lorna. I did my best to forget Lorna Dune, tried to force her out of my thoughts to lose myself in the gaiety of the village fair. The sun is a shining to welcome the day. I am all welcome to the fair. The folk are all singing so merry and gay. I hope come to the fair. All the stalls on the green are as fine as can be. The trinkets and tokens so pretty to see. So it's come then, maidens and men to the fair in the tide of the morning. So deck yourselves out in your finest array. I hope maidens and men come to the fair in the morning. But it was no use. I turned my back on the fair and walked back to my mother's cottage. You are sad, my son. Go to her. Mother, you know about Lorna. Mothers are not half so unaware of the things that go on in their children's hearts as their children sometimes think. But what can I do, mother? Where can I take her? This is your home. Bring her here. But mother, how can I tell you? It was her father who killed my father. Old Ensord Dune told us before he died. John, our family Bible says, love thine enemies. The icy grip of winter was on the moors. I dug my way through snowdrifts, scaled the frozen heights of bag-worthy falls, hacking stairs from the solid stream of ice. And then I stood again, a speck against the white emptiness of Glen Dune. Lorna! Only the cold answered. I searched the empty streets like a man in a dream walking through a city of the dead. Lorna! Lorna! He lives in the hills and left me here to starve. What a savages. But why have they deserted you? Because I would not marry Carver Dune. I said I would rather give up food than marry him. Lorna. Lorna. I wish to die, John, for I thought you had forgotten about me. I have come to take you home. To the warmth of our fireplace. To the welcome of our hearth. I gathered her in my arms and started for the icy stairs of bag-worthy falls. Suddenly a shadow fell across my path in the snow. Step where you are, John Redd! Oh, it's Carver Dune. You think to steal our princess away from us, our princess and my intended bride. You'll earn respect for the dunes of Bagway and you for the rids of war. Bring back Lorna or you die, John Redd. Oh, I cannot risk your life, John. I'll go back to Glen Dune. No. Well, farmer, I know you have a gun, Carver Dune, and I am unarmed. But it is your life or mine as the will of God will have it. But the two of us will not live upon this earth another hour together. This bullet hit my shoulder. I sprang forward not caring whether I lived or died. Only knowing that this man threatened to take away everything in the world that I loved. My strength was like iron. And in two minutes I had him help us on the ground. You'll kill me. She does not love you. Why do you torture her? She is our princess. From the day we kidnapped her as a child, kidnapped her. Then she is not a duke. What difference does it make? Tell me, she is not really a dune by blood. Tell me! She... Not really a dune. And the old man lied. Her father did not kill mine. But this news I'll let you go, Carver Dune. You're a fool, John Redd. It was I who killed your father. He was looking back, taunting me, and did not see the edge of the cliff. He lost footing and plunged headlong. He was looking back, taunting me, and did not see the edge of the cliff. He lost footing and plunged headlong down back where he falls. You are safe now, my lona. Will you stay with me always? No fears between us? I will stay with you all the days of my life, John. Across the hill. Lovely Dorothy Warren, shall we be back in just one moment. And meanwhile our good thanks to Janet Scott, her Butterfield, Larry Thor, Marvin Miller of course, and to our entire company. Lorna Dune, based on the Blackmore novel, was dramatized for the railroad hour by Lawrence and Lee. The railroad hour is brought to you each week at the same time by the American railroads. Marvin? Last year marked the 31st consecutive year in which railroads of the United States and Canada moved a heavy volume of commercial explosives without a single death or injury due to rail transportation. The railroads moved without fatality in 1952, great quantities of fireworks and other explosives, as well as hundreds of other things classified simply dangerous. Such a record of safe transportation underscores one of the most important roles of our railroads. For in moving not only these dangerous materials, but also the nation's heavy freight over their own highways of steel, the railroads ensure greater safety for all of us as motorists. Whenever we travel on the public highways. Thank you, Marvin. What's our destination next week on the Show Train, Gordon? Well, Dorothy, everyone seemed to like our musical visits with the Brownings and Robert Louis Stevenson. So next Monday night we'll pay a call on one of America's greatest poets with melodies like this one. Oh, yes. Who did write those words, Gordon? Well, a fellow named Longfellow, Dorothy, who also dashed off the children's hour in the vansiline and a whole satchel full of poems you love and remember. That sounds like an exciting visit. Well, it is, and we call it night music. Will you be on hand, Dorothy? I wouldn't miss it. Good night, Gordon. Good night, Dorothy. You are wonderful as usual. All aboard! Well, dear friends, it looks as though we're ready to pull out. So until next Monday night in the world premiere of Night Music, on behalf of the other members of the cast and the American Railroads, this is your friend Gordon MacRae saying, good night. Gordon MacRae can soon be seen in Three Sailors and a Girl in Technicolor. Our choir is under the direction of Norman Luboff, and our music is prepared and conducted by Carmen Dragon. This is Marvin Miller saying goodbye until next week for the American Railroads. Now stay tuned for your Monday Night of Music on NBC.