 Lux presents Hollywood. The Lux Radio Theatre brings you Lawrence Olivier and Edna Best in Goodbye, Mr. Chips. And as a special guest, Mr. James Hilton, author of our play. Ladies and gentlemen, your producer, Mr. Cecil D. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. Thanksgiving comes but twice a year. Some of us will carve our turkeys this coming Thursday. Others will celebrate November 30th. I don't think the date matters very much. Canada celebrates Thanksgiving until another time. Perhaps we really need more than one Thanksgiving day to cover all the things we have to be thankful for. Freedom above all. Peace, good health, and those we love. Apropos of Thanksgiving, the Lux Radio Theatre has received a letter which we value highly for its friendly spirit. It says in part, in addition to the big things in life, I'm thankful for many smaller things which add to the joy of living. Among these is the Lux Radio Theatre, which is a highlight of the week for our family. And another highlight which helps us in many ways every day in the year is Lux Flakes. So here's wishing you and the Lux Radio Theatre and Lux Flakes many happy thanksgivings to come. We appreciate Mrs. J. J. Carter's gracious letter. And tonight, we're also grateful to Mr. James Hilton that stories like Goodbye, Mr. Chips are still being written. In my opinion, Chips is one of the most engaging characters in literature since Dickens. I was particularly delighted with the success of the picture because it was directed by my assistant director of Silent Picture Days, Sam Wood. Our cast tonight is headed by two stars who are making their first appearance in the Lux Radio Theatre, Lawrence Olivier and Edna Best. Mr. Olivier is an actor who refuses to take his stardom very seriously and that makes him an ideal Mr. Chips. When Lawrence Olivier learned that in the Hollywood idiom he was considered terrific in Wuthering Heights, his answer was, I wonder how I did it. As Catherine, we have Ms. Edna Best, distinguished star of the London and New York stage. Ms. Best is in Hollywood for the RKO picture, Swiss family Robinson. Now we pay a visit to the peaceful quadrangle of Brookfield School. Where during the past few hundred years, many thousands of boys have investigated the mysteries of Latin grammar. And we pay a visit to a gentleman who is a tradition at Brookfield, a certain Mr. Chipping, commonly called Chips. The curtain goes up on the first act of Goodbye, Mr. Chips starring Lawrence Olivier in the title role and Edna Best as Catherine. When you're getting on in years between 80 and 90, you get very sleepy sometimes, and the hours seem to pass like lazy cattle moving across a landscape. It was like that for Mr. Chips as the autumn term progressed and the day shortened, till it was actually time to light the gas before evening classes. For Mr. Chips, like some old sea captain, still measured time by signals of the past and where he might, for he lived at Mrs. Wickets just across the road from Brookfield School. Mr. Chipping, shall I light the fire? Oh, Mr. Chipping, are you awake, sir? Hmm? Hey, oh, good evening, Mrs. Wickets. Is that the bell for call over? Yes, it is, sir. Well, I'd best stir up a fire. Thank you, and you might bring me a cup of tea before prep, will you? The tea's right there. I don't know what part of it, sir. Oh, so it is. And the cake, Mrs. Wickets, you didn't forget the cake, did you? There's a walnut cake if you'll only take the trouble to look, sir. Oh, yes, yes. Thank you, Mrs. Wickets. You're expecting the boys in, sir? No, no, I've learned never to expect anything, Mrs. Wickets. I always make a point of being taken completely by surprise. Well, I don't mind to go visit in this evening, sir. Atchir, well, run along, run along. I'm quite old enough to take care of myself. Very well, sir. Good evening. Good evening, Mrs. Wickets. The door! Mrs. Wickets. Oh, we'll never mind doing it myself. Well, hello. Please, sir, does Mr. Chips live here? Mr. Chips? Yes, he does. In fact, you're looking at him. Oh. Well, what can I do for you? I, uh, I was told you wanted me, sir. And who told you that? The boy, sir. They said, go over to Mr. Chips and ring the bell and tell him he wants to see you. Well, I see, I see. Well, you better come inside. Now, uh, sit down, sit down. Thank you, sir. The boys were quite right, you know. I did want to see you. I wanted you to have some tea with me. Oh, thank you, sir. I, uh, I haven't seen you before. How's that? I've only just come out of the sanatorium, sir. I've been there since the beginning of the term. Measles, sir. Ah, yes. Well, that accounts for it. Tell me, uh, what's the name? Linford, sir. Well, tell me, Linford, what do you think of Brookfield? So far, I mean. Well, sir, I'm not quite sure yet. I know, but you'll like it when you get used to it. Just now, you're a bit afraid of it, eh? Well, uh, yes, sir. Yes, so was I at first, but that was a long time ago. Sixty-three years, to be precise. Yes, when I first went into Big Hall and saw all those boys, I tell you, I was quite scared. But it didn't last long. I soon may be served at home, so will you. Weren't there a lot of other new boys that term, sir? Eh? But bless my soul, I wasn't a boy at all. I was a man, a young man of twenty-two, a master. Oh. But, sir... Yes? If you were twenty-two then... Yes? You must be very old now, sir. Well, I, I'm certainly no chicken. Yes, when I, uh... Yes, when I came to Brookfield in eighteen-seventy, the place was just the same then as it is now. Even the names of the boys were the same. Ainsworth, Atwood, Avonmore, Babacock, Bags, Barnard, Fast and Threat. Almost the same. Old Mr. Weatherby was head then. Fine man, fine man. I'm probably the only man in the world who remembers old Weatherby and the boy. I remember them all. Sixty-three years ago, Linford. And I can still hear their names as they call them off before the class in. Ainsworth, Atwood, Avonmore, Babacock, Bags, Barnard, Fast and Threat, Barnard. Mr. Chipser? Mr. Chipser? Are you asleep, sir? Shall I go now, sir? Mr. Chipser! Mr. Chips! Pardon me, sir. Are you Mr. Chipping, a new master? Yes, I am. Come in Mr. Chipping, come in. Welcome to Brookfield. Sit down, sit down. I, I understand you've been a master before. For one year at Melbourne. One year, yes. You are a young man, Mr. Chipping, and Brookfield is an old foundation. However, youth and age often combine well. But don't let the boys play tricks with you. I, uh, I gather the discipline was not always your strong point at Melbourne. Well, no, perhaps not so. Never mind. You have another chance here. Take up a firm attitude from the beginning. That's the secret of it. I shall, Mr. Weatherman. You will take prep this evening, Mr. Chipping. At the start of the year, you may find the boys inclined to be a bit, um, foresty, but I trust you will encounter no great difficulty. I think so, sir. I say you speak English. Bagley, I hear. He is not. He's the new master, Chipping. Chipping? What's he like? Stuffy. Careful, you chap. Sir, he is. Good evening. As you know, this is a period of quiet study. You may busy yourselves in any way you wish. Oh, thank you, sir. Uh, quiet, please. Please, sir. What is your name? My name is Mr. Chipping. Did you say Chip, sir? I said Chipping. Thank you, Mr. Chipping. Uh, you there in the second row. You with the red hair. Did you drop that desk lid? Yes, sir. What's your name? Collie, sir. Very well, Collie. You have a hundred lines. A hundred lines? A hundred lines, sir. Did you hear me, Collie? Not a hundred lines, sir. All I did was to drop... Did you hear me, Collie? Yes, sir. Hello, Chipping. You're golden. My name, history. Oh, how'd you do? I hear you were blessed with first prep. How did it go? Well, I'm afraid I've got off to rather a bad start. I had to give young Collie a hundred lines. A hundred lines on the very first day. That's a bit rough, isn't it? Well, I thought it necessary. Well, I suppose you know, when you'll have a long time here to correct any bad impressions. Good night, Chipping. Good night. A long time... to correct any bad impression. Vesta. Oh, bonnet. Been here a long time, Chipping. Your work's been quite satisfactory. I know it won't come as a surprise to you after all this time that we're making you a house master. Good luck, Chipping. I say, Chipping, going my well, ma'am. I believe so. Good. Well, another term ended, eh? Where are you going for the summer? I hadn't thought, Bowden. Perhaps up to the Lake District. Very nice. By the way, congratulations, Chipping. You've been made a house master, haven't you? Oh, yes. I've been waiting for it so long I can hardly get excited about it now. No, they don't come quickly. I was here 10 years before I got mine. Do you know how long I've been here? Well, now, let me see. Almost 25. 25 years. It doesn't seem possible. No, it doesn't. You know, when I first came, I had some fine dreams. I thought, what a wonderful thing it would be to be headmaster of a school like Brookfield. Well, youth is entitled to dreams. Chipping, you've really done a fine job here. I can't understand why promotion has been so slow for you. I've often wondered... Have you heard the news? What news? The new house master. Know who it is? Oh, Chips. Chips? No. I say, that's my house. Bad break for you, old man. Chips? Were we looking for a reason? I'm sorry, Chipping. Heartless little beggar. No, it isn't their fault. I suppose I just don't understand them the way you chaps do. Oh, nonsense. Well, here's where I turn off, old man. You'll write me from the lake, say? Oh, of course. Are you going to do any mountain climbing? Climbing? Yes, I expect so. I've always wanted to try old Stoney. Fine. Well, good luck and be careful up there. I will. cheaper than I thought. Not too many footholds. Is there anything wrong? Where are you? Wherever you are. Don't move. I'm coming. Must be in trouble. I hope there's nothing. Oh! Oh, hello. Was it you, who called? Yes, was it you? Yeah, it was down there. The path down there. I know. I'm afraid I slipped. Wait a minute. Are you hurt? No, not very much. You really should have been more careful. It's very steep here. Yes, I know. But when I heard you call, I... You were coming to me. Why? Well, for a moment, I thought... That I was in trouble? Yes. I'm terribly sorry. I was calling to my friend down the mountain. Oh. Oh, I see. Well... It was very thoughtless, I mean. And very nice of you to come to my rescue, I mean. Was it your ankle you heard? Oh, no, it's nothing. Try standing up. No, I'm sure I can manage. Oh. Oh, no, no, you can't. Here, sit down. You can never get down the mountain like that. We'll just have to wait until my friend comes. I'm putting you to a great deal of bother. Oh, no, of course you're not. Uh, my name is Catherine Bridges. How do you do? Mine is chipping. How do you do, Mr. Chipping? My friend and I are taking a... It really is quite... I beg your pardon. No, no, you were saying... No, no, please. Uh, what was it, Mr. Chipping? Well, I was about to say... It really is quite a wonderful day. Oh, yes. Yes, we've had fine weather all the week. Uh, my friend and I are on a bicycle tour of the whole Lake District. I've enjoyed every minute of it. A bicycle tour? Yes. Why? Oh, nothing. Don't you believe in ladies riding bicycles, Mr. Chipping? Oh, it's a very helpful exercise, I imagine. Hello there. Oh, Martha, come down. Uh, that's my friend, Mr. Chipping. Catherine? Martha, this is Mr. Chipping. Mr. Chipping, Miss Taylor. How do you do? Is he hurt? Yes, Martha, you see, he tried to rescue me and, uh... and he slipped. I see. And now we shall have to rescue him. Well, I imagine the two of us can carry him. Oh, of course. Oh, really? Come along. Take his arm there, Catherine. Oh, already. Now lean on me, Mr. Chipping. Oh, but I feel so very silly. Nonsense. Nonsense. Lift him, Catherine. Lift. And she has come to see me. Every day. Since the accident. I imagine you are surprised, Odin, that I write so much of her. But she is really a very charming person. Yes. And I must admit, very beautiful too. But please do not misunderstand me. She is far too charming. And far too beautiful. For me. It doesn't matter with you. You must realize we've overstayed our time as it is. We shall have to take the train back this morning. Now you're coming with me, aren't you? Mother, you know I can't leave yet. Although he's still not entirely well. And it was my fault in a way. Well, I can't desert him. Is that all, Catherine? No. Catherine, listen to me. He's a great deal older than you are. He's stuffy and slightly gray. And his opinions date from the 70s. He thinks Bernard Shaw is completely irresponsible. And he told me in confidence he's not at all sure women should have the vote. Have I said enough? I've said everything. Except that he's a thoroughly honest person. That his eyes are deep brown. That he's very charming when he smiles. Oh, Martha, I've never met anyone like him before. And he's really very lonely, did you know there? He won't be much longer. Martha. Goodbye, my dear. Have a pleasant holiday. I'm off for lunch. Oh, Martha, Martha, wait, wait. And they call you chips. Yes. But never to my face, of course. So glad you are what you are. I was afraid when I first met you that, well, that you were a lawyer or a dentist or a man with a big cotton business in Manchester. But schoolmastering's so different, so important, don't you think? To be influencing those who are to grow up and matter to the world. It's rather thrilling. I hadn't thought of it like that. But I do my best. That's all anyone can do in any job. Yes, of course. I love you for saying these simple things like that. Catherine, I really must tell you something in all fairness. Yes. I'm not a very good schoolmaster. My degree is quite mediocre. I have a certain amount of difficulty with discipline. And I'm sure I'll never get another promotion. Never get to be head or anything like that. In other words, what I'm trying to say is that I'm completely ineligible to marry a young and ambitious girl. Can you laugh at those things? I am laughing. You make me very, very happy. When shall we be married? Before the new term begins. Oh, that would be quite wonderful. Shall we say in a week? Or tomorrow, here, in Wasden. Tomorrow? Tomorrow? Of course. Why not? I'll see a clergyman tonight. Yes, you'd better. And I'll meet you in the morning at the inn. We both have a great deal to do today. Oh, yes. Letters and everything. In the morning, then. In the morning. This is an occasion, you know. This last farewell of ours. I feel rather like a new boy beginning his first term with you. Not afraid, mind you, but just for once in a thoroughly respectful mood. Shall I call you, sir? Or would Mr. Chips be the right thing? Yes, I think it would. Until tomorrow, then. Goodbye, Mr. Chips. The curtain falls on act one of goodbye, Mr. Chips. And life seems to have taken on a new meaning for the quiet schoolmaster. Before we continue with act two, here's Mr. Ruick with a story from real life. During this short intermission, our stars Lawrence Olivier and Edna Best return in act two of goodbye, Mr. Chips. We bring you a real life scene. This scene actually happened last year in a very charming home in Portland, Oregon. The mother told us, in an interesting letter, that she was making plans for the marriage of her daughter. One day, she writes, she and her daughter were discussing the wedding dress. Oh, mother, your wedding dress is so beautiful. I'd love to wear it. Oh, I don't know. 33 years. I know. There'd have to be some remodeling. It's not only that. The dress is so gray and dingy looking after all these years. And it's so fragile. I'm afraid it wouldn't clean or wash well. I know. With all that lovely lace and embroidery. But don't you think with luxe... Well, luxe, flakes would certainly be safe. I could try them. Oh, mother, please. I'd adore wearing the dress. Well, dear, I'll try. And so she washed the dress in mild luxe suds. And the next day... Come here, dear, and look at the dress. Oh, mother, darling, it's beautiful. It looks just wonderful. Oh, you darling, thanks a million. Oh, don't thank me. Thanks, luxe, flakes. They did a wonderful job. I'll say they did. And they're going to have the place of honor in my new home. Why, they've given me my wedding dress. That's a true story. The sort of thing that happens in homes all over the country. Women know they can depend on luxe. They call on luxe because they know they can trust it. They use it every day for their dresses, sweaters, stockings, and underthings. Luxe flakes are so mild, so pure, they won't harm anything safe in plain water. There's no harmful alkali to fade or streak colors or hurt sensitive fibers. Your house dresses, your everyday washables, as well as your most treasured possessions, stay fresh and lovely looking, and wear longer with regular luxe care. Remember, luxe is so pure, a little goes a long way. Luxe is thrifty. Our producer, Mr. DeMille. Act two of Goodbye, Mr. Chips, starring Lawrence Olivier in the title role and Edna Best as Catherine. Sitting by the fire in his comfortable room, old Mr. Chips dreams on, dreams of a day long ago, a time of great and overwhelming happiness. For his marriage was a triumphant success and Catherine conquered Brookfield as she'd already conquered one of its masters. The most remarkable of all was the change she made in Chips. He became, to all appearances, a new man. They're quite mad about you. Chips, what are you talking about? The head, the masters, the boys, everyone. They're all in love with you just as I am. Chips, you know everyone's been so wonderful. I was horribly afraid for a while that I might not fit in. I wanted to so much. You've been here two weeks and you're more a part of Brookfield than I am. Good evening, Mr. Chips. Oh, good evening. Good evening, sir. Good evening, Mrs. Chips. Hello, boys. How did the match go today? Very well. Thank you. You really should watch it now. I'll have to come down and watch you tomorrow. Good night, ma'am. It's fair. Talk tomorrow. I'll be there. See what I mean? I never have spoken of you hadn't been with me. Oh, Chips. Must you be so formal with me? Formal? Well, relax a little, joke a little. You know they're like you ever so much better. I've often wished I could. Oh, well, you tried and see. You've got a wonderful sense of humor, Chips. I have? Of course. Didn't you know? I don't believe I ever did. And now we come to the old Roman law known as Lex Canulia. Lex Canulia was the law which permitted patricians to marry plebeians. So you see, if Miss Plebs wanted Mr. Patrician to marry her, and he said he couldn't, she probably replied, oh, yes, you can. You liar. King was first to bear the title Defender of the Faith. Answer by Master Lytton in his most illegible script. The first king to bear the title Defender of the Faith was Henry VIII. He married six wives, but only one at a time. You'll have to mark it right, Chips. Yes, well, the future of England's in good hands. Mr. Chips, we must have Babcock is here. Babcock? Yes, Chips, I sent for him. You sent? Well, tell him to wait, please. Yes, sir. Well, Catherine? Chips, I thought it would be better if you spoke to Babcock here. I mean, instead of taking him to the head study as you planned. Catherine? It wasn't anything very serious that he did. My dear wife, if you think that releasing a mouse in the middle of Mr. Ogle of his choir practice is not serious. Oh, but such a small mouse. What? About so big, that's all. Oh, please, Chips, he won't do it again. I'll vouch for him. You will. Chips, have I ever been wrong? No, my dear, you haven't. Well, I'll see what I can do. Thank you, Chips. Well, good evening, Babcock. Good evening, sir. Well, Babcock, that was quite an ingenious prank in choir practice today. Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir. Why did you do it? Well, sir, I had the mouse there and... You just thought you'd let him go, eh? Well, it's against the rules to keep it, sir. Yes. Well, tell me, Babcock, can you think of any reason why I shouldn't take you to the head? No, sir, except... Except what? It, uh... It was a very small mouse, sir. Oh, I see. Were you here earlier this afternoon? Yes, sir. I thought you were. Well, um... That's all, Babcock. You mean I can go, sir? Well, in view of the fact that the mouse was... Oh, get out, Babcock, get out for good. Yes, sir. Thank you very much. Good night, sir. Good night, good night. Chips. Yes. You let him go, didn't you? Yes. Because it was a small mouse. Heaven knows, Catherine, what kind of discipline I'd have from now on. Oh, better chips. Much better. You wait and see. Perhaps. You know, you must be very kind and very understanding with the boys now. You never can tell. Your own son might let a mouse go acquire practice someday. My son? Never. Well, mine might. Yes, he probably would. He'll be very much like you. He'll be honest and kind. And he'll make people happy wherever he goes. Oh, shit. When he comes, we must be very careful to bring him up just right, mustn't we? Very careful. I have such wonderful plans. He'll go to Brookfield, of course. Of course. And he'll probably play cricket and soccer. Captain of cricket, I think, don't you? Oh, yes. Yes. Unless, of course, he turns out to be a girl. Oh, no, I never thought of that. Catherine, are you ever afraid? Afraid, chips? That all the wonderful things that have happened aren't quite real. I know what you mean. I know they've never happened before, just like this. Sometimes I wonder if they ever really happened at all. Too much like a fairy tale. Yes. Always found it rather difficult to believe in fairy tales. Oh, but you must believe. That's the wonderful thing about them, chips. They're so true. And perhaps a long, long time from now, when we are quite forgotten, there'll be another story told of two people who wandered alone on a mountainside. And suddenly they were not alone any longer, for the clouds opened below them. And there was the world at their feet, the whole wide world, all bright and shining in the sunlight. What have I done to deserve such happiness? Yes? Oh, Doctor, can you come at once, sir? What is it? It's Mrs. Chippen, Doctor. Mrs. Chippen? Yes, Doctor. Mr. Chippen's very worried. He asked if we could please come right away. Of course. I'll get my things. I say, where's chips? He's late for class this morning. Oh, but where did he come? What, Ming? Did you put the letters on his desk? Eight of them. Who could? What's up? A joke on chips? Be careful. It's April Fool. You fool. We've put a lot of letters on Chipp's desk. They're all addressed to him as the only blank paper inside. Don't be the word now. Not I. Shh. Here he comes. There are a lot of letters for you. Stop it, bags. He'll hear you. He's happening. Be quiet, you fool. There goes another one. I say, look at his face. Look at his face. What do the letters say, sir? Please, sir, are they very important? Doesn't he like the joke? What's the matter with him? I don't know. Do you suppose he's angry? He doesn't look angry. No, why doesn't he say something? Catherine Chippen, the mother, and the child just born, died on the same day. April 1st, 1898. How the whole school feels. Just try to keep going, old man. Time will help you. Time and your work. Thank you. Thank you. That's the boy. And over there's Big Hall. It's nice of you to show me around. Oh, we always show the new boys around. Oh, look. You see that old fellow over there in the torn gown? That's Chipp's. Been here since 1870, they say. 1870? The 1930s? That's right. Forty-three years now. You like chips. Everybody does. Oh, Mr. Chippen, sir. Hey, this? The head would like to see you in his office, sir. Who? The head, sir. Mr. Ralston. Oh, Ralston, thank you. Come in, Mr. Chippen. Come in. Boy, it says you wanted to see me. Yes, sir. Sit down, will you? Well, sir. Mr. Chippen, uh... Chippen, how long have you been here? Forty-three years. Yes, I thought it was about that. Have you, uh... Have you ever thought that you might like to retire? Retire? No, I can't say I have thought about it yet. Well, Mr. Chippen, the suggestion is there for you to consider. But I don't want to retire. I don't need to consider it. Nevertheless, I suggest that you do. Well, I suggest I don't see why I should. Well, in that case, Mr. Chippen, things are going to be a little difficult. Difficult? Why difficult? Well, since you forced me to use plain words, Mr. Chippen, you shall have them. For some time past, you haven't been pulling your weight here. Your method of teaching a slack for no fashion. Your personal habits are sluggish. And you ignore my instructions in a way which in a younger man I should regard as rank insubordination. But I... did you... did you say sluggishly? Yes. Now, look at that master's gown you're wearing. I happen to know that that torn and shredded gown is a subject of continual amusement throughout the school. Is it? You also said something about insubordination, I believe. Yes. I was speaking to the question of Latin pronunciation, Mr. Chippen. Oh, there. I think I told you when I first came here that I wanted the new style used exclusively. The other masters obeyed me. You prefer to stick to your own methods, and the result is complete chaos and inefficiency. But I don't agree with the new pronunciation. Oh, really? Now, in my opinion, it's a lot of nonsense. Making the boys say kick a row at school when for the rest of their lives they'll say cicero if they ever say it at all. And instead of vice-cissim, heaven-blessed by soul, you'd make them say we kiss him. There you are, Mr. Chippen. That's exactly what I'm complaining of. You hold one opinion, and I hold another. And since you've declined to give way, there can't very well be any alternative. What's that, Mr. Chippen? Brookfield is an up-to-date school. I understand, however, that your Latin and Greek lessons are exactly the same as they were when I first began here. Yes, they are. For that matter, they're the same as when your predecessor, Mr. Meldrum, was here. We began here, Mr. Meldrum, and I, in 1870. And it was Mr. Meldrum's predecessor, Mr. Weatherby, who first approved my syllabus. You take the cicero for the fourth, he said to me. Cicero, too, not kick a row. And I don't intend to resign, Mr. Ralston, and you could do what you like about it, could they? That was act two of our play. I don't think Mr. Chipps is going to be an easy man to fire. In the intermission before act three, here's a little presentation of a picture in sound. Before Mr. Demille brings us act three, he has as our guest the author of our play. But first, let's take time enough to make a demonstration of special interest to housewives. We're going to give you a sound picture of what happens when you put luxe flakes into your dishpan. First, you pour in a few flakes. Then you turn on the water, and almost at once the flakes melt into a soft, frothy, massive bubble. Listen to them. By actual test, luxe dissolves into suds four times as fast as old-fashioned cake soaps. Now listen to those bubbles again. Can you picture them? A pan full of rich, active suds that make short work of grease and grime. They leave your dishes sparkling in almost no time. And while you're working, luxe is ever so kind to your hands. There's no harmful alkali to bite and sting your hands the way harsh soaps do. Luxe is as mild as the finest toilet soaps. It helps your hands stay soft and smooth. And you want hands like that, I know. So try luxe for your dishes. It's so inexpensive. About a penny's worth of luxe does your dishes for a whole day. You need a little more in hard water. Buy the thrifty large box of luxe flakes tomorrow. We pause now for station identification. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. Before the play continues, we have a special guest, James Hilton, who wrote Goodbye, Mr. Chips. For the last four years, he's been a regular resident of Hollywood and responsible for some of the finest writing done for motion pictures. His most recent assignment at Warner Brothers was the screenplay of his novel, We Are Not Alone. And so without further explanation, I'll introduce one of Hollywood's most interesting people, James Hilton. And you'll probably decide that he can't live up to such a very flattering introduction. I should have added, ladies and gentlemen, that he's not fond of what Hollywood calls a build-up. I suppose, Mr. Hilton, the first question anyone asks about Mr. Chips is whether there was a real Mr. Chips. As the author, I don't seem to be an authority on that point. I've had rather a large number of letters from people who assumed that their own personal Mr. Chips was mine, too. Actually, I never knew any one schoolmaster who was the complete 100% Mr. Chips. Here's a combination of many schoolmasters, including my father. Is your father pleased or annoyed to find himself a fictional character? Oh, he denies it altogether, which is exactly what Chips would do in the same circumstances. I wonder what he thinks of motion pictures. Well, I can only guess. My father saw a picture about 25 years ago, and the flickering hurt his eyes, so he didn't see another until I became involved in the business. Now he's extremely interested and very, very uncritical. He never says a picture is bad. The perfect critic for a producer. But you said Chips was a composite character. Are there many like him? There are fewer every year, and when they die, Chips will have disappeared forever from real life. You see, the English public schools, which are not really public at all, but private, have had to undergo many changes to fit the times. Just as the schools in this country have had to adapt themselves to the shifting scene. Of course, there was room for change. They had their faults. I've forgotten most of what I was taught in school, but I remember a few things I learned without being taught, such as blowing glass tubing into fancy shapes, or a slight aptitude for ventriloquism, which I developed to circumvent a master who was very deaf. These things have never been of much practical use to me since, but just the same, I know the whole experience was valuable. Any boy that comes under the influence of a Mr. Chips usually turns out to be a better citizen. That's why I'm sorry to see his type disappear, even though I know it's inevitable. And it's inevitable that the third act follows the second act, so I'll make my way for Mr. Chips now. You couldn't make way for a better man, Mr. Hilton. We continue with goodbye, Mr. Chips. The news that Ralston had asked Chips to resign was soon public property, and the result was a spontaneous outburst of sympathy. The masters and the boys rallied to Chips' cause, threatening a public riot if he was banished from Brookfield, and so he stayed. But in the winter of 1913, the old man fell ill and was off duty for almost the entire term. It was that which made him decide to resign. At the end of term dinner, given in Chips' honor, he received a farewell presentation from the boys. And so, sir, the boys of Brookfield have asked me to make this presentation of this gift. It's from the boys of Brookfield to show our esteem and recognition of the great service you've performed for Brookfield. Thank you. I, uh... I'm afraid young Mr. Collie here has been guilty of an exaggeration in speaking of my services to Brookfield, but then, of course, he comes from an exaggerating family. I remember once having to thrash his father for it. I gave him a one mark for Latin, and he, uh, exaggerated it into a seven. I have been at Brookfield for almost 44 years, and I have been very happy here. It has been my life. Oh, my high pretoritos referat, sigh Jupiter and us. I need not, of course, translate. I remember very many things about Brookfield, so many things that I've often thought I ought to write a book. Now, what shall I call it, I wonder? Memories of rod and lines. Well, perhaps I shall write it someday. But of all the things I remember, the things I remember best are your faces. I never forget them. I have thousands of faces in my mind, the faces of boys. And if you come to see me in the years to come, as I hope you will, and if I don't seem to recognize you, you'll probably say to yourself, the old boy doesn't remember me, but I do remember you as you are now. That's the point. In my mind, you never grow up at all. Never. Well, well, I mustn't go on all night. I shall be living just across the road at Mrs. Wiggins. Think of me sometimes, as I shall certainly think of you. Heck, olim, miminissi, juvavit. Again, I need not translate. They say the older boys in Brookfield are going to form training squads. My father's going. So is mine. Mr. Chipping, sir, do you think it will last long, sir? Last long? Of course not. Impossible, Lancaster. We ought to have it finished by Christmas at the very latest. But why are you thinking of joining up Lancaster? Lancaster's a little short for a soldier, sir. Don't you think? Oh, only by a foot or two, eh, Lancaster? Their lives were their country. Brill, Evans, Jackson, Lancaster. Do you think it will last long, sir? Lancaster. More boys. More and more and more. Going up to the front. Boys I've known. Chips, old man, come and sit down. Yes, sir John. Chips, as chairman of the board, the governors have asked me to have a talk with you. It's about the matter of our masters joining up. I suppose you know the head's gone. I heard, yes. It leaves us very short-handed. Briefly, Chips, the board wants to know if you feel well enough to come back. I'll give you a tie of me. They want to know, Chips, if you'll do us the very great honour of coming back for the duration of the war as headmaster of Brookfield School. Headmaster of Brookfield? Me? Yes, you're the man for it. The only man. You belong there. Oh, but it's such a great responsibility. I'm a ranker, sir John. I'm not meant to be ahead. Will you take it over? Oh, yes, yes, I will, but I... Please, Chips, don't answer me now. Come back and see me in the morning. Very well, very well. Good night, sir. Good night, sir John. Headmaster? Head of Brookfield? I must be getting very old. Very old. Or it's only when you need me that do you remember the day you told me you would never be head? I think I knew then that some day... My time is over. My work is done. Look. Look down there, Chips. Oh, the world of boys. Boys who are looking toward manhood, waiting for some person to shoot. You are that person. Don't you remember? Long. School mastery. So important to be influencing those who are to grow up and matter to the world. The case case with Brookfield. Hello, Chips. Back so soon? Sir John, I've made my decision. I think I know what it is. I'll do my best, sir John, because that's all anyone can do in any job. The class will continue. It may seem to you at this particular moment in the world's history that the affairs of Caesar in Gaul some 2,000 years ago were of somewhat secondary importance. But believe me, that is not really the case. You cannot judge the importance of things by the noise they make. Oh, dear, be not. And let us resume our work. Is there anyone who will volunteer to construe? I will, sir. Very good. Turn to page 40 and begin at the bottom line. Yes, sir. Genus Hock-Ere-Hugney. This was the kind of fight quo-seen Militees exercuarent in which the soldiers busied themselves. Oh, oh, sir, that's good. Yes, you can see now that these dead languages sometimes come to life again. Yes, it is, sir. Good afternoon, doctor. What brings you here? Not I, certainly. No. No, the head asked me to look in. He wanted to know if you were going to the old boy's dinner in London this year. Oh. I told him I didn't think you were. No, no, I'm afraid not. It's been a long time since I left here, not since the war. Chipping, do you really think you should be up? Oh, there's a lot of flu about you now. But it does nothing matter with me, doctor. Nothing at all. And what would I do in bed while one of the boys might drop in and find reception? Well, I leave it up to you. Goodbye, chipping. Goodbye. And if you see a chap in the quad who looks as if he just couldn't wait till dinner, send him along, will you? I have a cake. I will, I will. I remember them all 63 years ago, didn't it? And I can still hear their names as they called them before the classes. Ainsworth, Atwood, Abelmore, Babcock. Thanks. Pardon. Blessings for each. Chip, sir. Mr. Chip, sir. Are you asleep, sir? Shall I go now, sir? Mr. Chip, sir. Mr. Chips. Mr. Chips. What do you think? I don't know, sir, John. He's a very old man. Who's that? Hello there. Waking up? What? What happened? Oh, nothing much. You threw a faint, that's all. It's lucky that boy was with you. Try to sleep again. Yes. Yes. Very, very lonely sort of life. All bad, sir. Not always by himself. He was married, you know. Was? She died. A great many years ago. Pity. Pity never had any children. Oh, what was that? Careful. What were you saying about me? Nothing. Nothing at all, old chap. I heard you. A pity I never had any children, eh? But I have, you know, I have thousands of them. And all boys. That's not fair. Barnards. Bastards, wait. Barnards, wait. Before our stars return for their curtain call, I want to present Miss Libby Collins who ferrets out news behind the scenes here in Hollywood. What have you for us tonight, Libby? Two or three fascinating things about the stalking habits of some of the Hollywood stars. For example, do you know that Kitty Carlisle rinses her stockings in perfume instead of water? Well, she walks in beauty. What else, Libby? Well, Jane Wyman uses that adhesive tape instead of garters to hold up her stockings. A cute idea is to cut the tape into little designs like hearts or clubs or your zodiac sign. And here's one item that's a little closer to home. Willys of Hollywood, who designs most of the gorgeous stockings we see in motion pictures, says the average woman should have 20 pairs of stockings. If she gives them the right kind of care, they should last a year. What does he mean by the right kind of care, Libby? He says you should never soak stockings or rub them. Just dip them in lukewarm luck suds and rinse in water at the same temperature. He's right, isn't he? Lucks flakes save elasticity and cut down on runs. If you rub your stockings with cake soap or you soaps with harmful alkali, you're apt to weaken elasticity and then runs come easily. With gentle lucks flakes, there's no harmful alkali and, of course, no rubbing. Your stockings wear longer and fit better with regular lucks care. Lucks is thrifty. And now Mr. DeMille is bringing our stars to the microphone. Mr. Chips has retired to immortality. We bring Lawrence Olivier and Edna Best back to our microphone. You know, Mr. DeMille, this play brought back a few memories of my own school days. Were you the small boy who released the most, the very small most at choir practice? The most pronounced mischief I created at school was acting in play. We're glad you didn't reform. As a matter of fact, I went from bad to worse, turned professional and joined a repertory company. Playing four or five different parts a week, I suppose. If you get a passing mark in that school, you're an actor. Yes, anything can happen in one of those theaters. I remember one incident with a traveling company when the juvenile was taken ill. The manager wired to another company in the next county to borrow an actor. When the borrowed juvenile arrived ten minutes before curtain time, he turned out to be a character man about 70 years old. The manager was frantic. There he was ten minutes before the curtain time with a character man to play a juvenile role. Only the visiting actor remained calm. He inquired for his dressing room. Five minutes later he reappeared with his makeup on. My good man, he said to the manager, where is the stage and what is the play? I know just the kind of actor you mean. Give him the right cue and he'll play Peter Pan or the second grave digger in Hamlet. But I imagine he'd be pretty startled if anyone told him that there was a theater with an audience as big as this one. What's your play next week, Mr. DeMille? Next Monday night, we're going to present a play by George Bernard Shaw, the one which was so very successful on the screen this year, Pygmalion. And our stars will be Gene Arthur and Brian Ahern. Pygmalion is the story of an unromantic gentleman of learning who trains a cockney girl to impose personated duchess, an experiment which produces startling and romantic results. That sounds like a grand show. Gene Arthur and Brian Ahern in Pygmalion. I'm anxious to hear it. Good night. Good night, Mr. DeMille. Our sponsors, the makers of Lux Flakes, join me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night. When the Lux Radio Theatre presents Gene Arthur and Brian Ahern in Pygmalion. Mr. Cecil B. DeMille, saying good night to you from Hollywood. This is Melville Ruick, inviting you to enjoy the popular Lux daytime program, The Life and Love of Dr. Susan. Susan's enemies are plotting to set tomorrow they reveal their scheme. Listen then. For the time and station, see your newspaper. The Life and Love of Dr. Susan comes to you in addition to the Lux Radio Theatre. Heard in tonight's play were Alan Napier as Wetherby, Clifford Severn as Linford, Ronald Sinclair as Collie, Frederick Warlock as Ralston, Lillian Kemble Cooper as Martha, Mary Gordon as Mrs. Wicket, C. Montageau Shaw as a doctor, Eric Snowden as Bowden, Ian McLaren as Meldrum, and Douglas Scott, Bobby Winkler, Harry Duff, Bobby Mock, Brian Killoway, Tommy Martin, Ernest Carlson, Cliff Olin, Bill Martin, Bob Stevens, Edwin Mills, and Richard Cluckas as school boys. Laurence Olivier's forthcoming picture is Rebecca, produced by David O. Selznick. Edna Best will soon be seen in the RKO Picture Swiss Family Robinson, produced by Jean Town and Graham Baker. Our music was directed by Louis Silvers. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.