 The DuPont Cavalcade of America, starring Robert Mitchum. Good evening, this is Robert Mitchum. We have many legends in this country that we like to tell over and over again. Tonight on Cavalcade, you'll hear of the man who first set many of them down, Washington Irving. Before we begin, here's Bill Hamilton of the DuPont Company. Good evening. Now is the time to clean out the cooling systems, your car, and make it ready for summer driving. To get the best results, do four things. One, drain out the antifreeze. Two, clean out rust and scum with DuPont cooling system cleansers. It dissolves rust chemically, cleans thoroughly without harming the hose or metal parts. Three, put in fresh water and add DuPont acid and rust inhibitors to keep the radiator rust-free all seasons. Four, add DuPont cooling system sealer to prevent leaks. If you do these four things, there will be a little chance of overheating or other radiator troubles. These radiator service products are among DuPont's better things for better living through chemistry. Now, thunder on the Hudson, an original radio play starring Robert Mitchum as Washington Irving and featuring Julie Hayden as Matilda, the girl he loves on the DuPont Cavalcade of America. As he was about to descend, he heard a voice from a distance. Hello, women. Rip fan winker. Rip fan winker. He looked around, but could see nothing. Jimmy, put out your light here. It's time to go to sleep. No, Mother, I'm just getting to the exciting part. Listen, one of the little men had a large beard. The face of another seemed to consist entirely of nose and was surmounted by a white sugar loaf hat set off with the little red cock's tail. And Rip fan winker's drank from their little kegs and went soundlessly for 20 years. Did you read it, too, Mother? Of course, dear. I suppose almost everybody in America's read that story. But it's just the story, Jimmy. The author never meant you to believe it really happened. But I do. And I'll bet he believes it, too. I'll bet Washington Irving believed every word. And what of the man that wrote that story? Imagine New York in the early 1800s. Bustling, raw and eager. Already a center of world commerce, but heedless of the beauty of the wilderness surrounding it. Unaware of its own traditions and legends. Well, in the midst of this young metropolis is the house of William Irving. And on a chill night in November, the old gentleman stands before his library fire, scowling at a manuscript written by his youngest son. The cats kill mountains have always been a region full of tables. The Indians considered them the abode of spirit to influence the weather. Bosh! Ruled by an old spore who hung up the new moons in the skies and cut up the old ones into stars. Pop it up. The lad has a mind like a bird. Flitter, flutter. Father, chill out. Flitter, flutter, I am. And you'll do me a favor by coming in here and explaining yourself, Washington Irving. Certainly, Father. What have I done now? It is not what you have done. It is what you don't do. We're not going into that again. Will you look at your boots covered with mud and slime? You've been out cramping the mountains again. Cutting up old moons into stars, I don't doubt. Father, I'm kind of the most amazing, amazing old man tonight. You told me a story, a wonderful story you've heard from his father. Now, don't try to change the subject. These stories of yours, these once upon a time, what good are they? Europe provides us with enough books but they aren't about America. Nobody writes about this country. That's no reason for you to make a waste of your life. Wait, I've passed the bar examinations. I'm a lawyer in my own right. I am, instead of setting your mind to the winning of papers, you disperse it in trading unlikely yarns with your strange cronies. Yes, I'm afraid the law and I am making an outlandish couple. Then you should have chosen some other profession. I want to make writing my profession. You also want to marry young Miss Hoffman, don't you? The children say she likes me as I am. Nevertheless, you can't ask her hand in marriage without the means to support her. I know. Matilda's father has offered you a position in his law office. Now, if you care for your future, apply yourself, Washington, to your warehouses and your warefors and forget the once upon a time. Washington, I didn't hear you come in. Please, don't stop. Do you like working in father's law? All right, I guess. What are you playing? It's by a new composer, Ludwig van Beethoven. I wonder if he makes a living by his composition. Well, I've no idea. Why? You suppose this Beethoven is in love? Maybe there's a girl he wants to marry. Can he be a lawyer by day and a composer by night? What is it, Washington? What troubling me? I'm puzzled, Miss Faber. Have you ever stopped to think that the music you play so beautifully was written in Vienna or Rome by men who devote their lives to it? The novels we read are from England or at Walpole, Mrs. Radcliffe. Here in America, we're creating nothing. We have created a nation? There's been little time. Now, just for once, I'd like to see a landscape painted near the Hudson by a man who can call painting his profession. And I'd like to read a tale of the Catskill Mountains told by a man who loves the tale. Still, did you mean that? Well, we've had little time to appreciate the beauty around us up till now, but I believe you understand it. You have a talent for expressing it. I'm not expressing it. I'm not writing it. Oh, Washington, you hate the law and love the rice. Why do you talk to yourself? Because I love you more than my life. I want to marry you, but I couldn't let you suffer from my whim by becoming the wife of a poor man. Have you thought what I might suffer being married and unhappy now? I won't be if you're with me. I'll try to make good in your father's law, officer. Someday, my darling, when I'm old and people are professionals past, I'll mount my hobby horse and take the writing again. Washington, this is a law off. You can't submit anything like this. Can I? Well, I have. What is it, Will? A reference he copies from the commentary. Now, listen. Then the fefoir is simply a land that's delivered to the fefi, all other persons being out of the ground, as who is not. Well, they're growing. And by the way, it sounds like a most pleasant effort to visit of a summer's afternoon with picnic lunch or fishing rod and a basket of horseshoes to pitch as the sun draws down. That's improving on Blackstone. How do you do it, Washington? It kind of slips in. I can't seem to help myself. Oh, oh. Was there something funny that I missed, gentlemen? Come, gentlemen. I can appreciate a joke as well as the next person. Washington? Yes, Mr. Hartman. Need I remind you that this is a law office, not a coffee house? I realize that. You can go into my office for a moment. That is, if these other gentlemen can spare your wit for that long. Of course, sir. Thank you. Now, how long have you been with me, Washington? Almost a year, sir. And how much law have you observed? Well, sir, the law is a peculiar thing. It has no ability to stick in my mind. It evaporates. The law is that ink part. You're wrong to be ink part, sir. I agree. Look at this brief you prepared yesterday. I take it there's something wrong with it, too. Washington law is law. There is no place in it for humor. Quite so, sir. Absolutely no humor. Then why in heaven's name did you crowd this brief with anecdotes? I thought a little brightening was needed. How do you expect to become a partner in this firm if you go on like this? Mr. Hartman, did I hear you right? Did you say something about my becoming a partner? I did. I'm offering you a partnership in my law office and you'll not be concerned with copying briefs. I'll assign the briefs to young Harrington. What else can I do if you believe enough in me to make such an offer? That's a leading question, son, and I'll be hanged if I can answer it. Come, Father, there must be something you can do. Wait a minute. Is all this because Matilda and I are engaged? My daughter is very fond of you, Washington, but Matilda isn't strong. You know that. She'll need care. All the care and comfort money can give her. The only way I'll be successful enough to marry your daughter is by your charity. I hardly put it quite so boldly as that. Mr. Hartman, I've worked hard all this year to save enough to establish some kind of security for her. I've failed, obviously, to establish any respect for myself. Please, Washington, you must not look at it that way. Well, how else can I look at it? The clown, the fool, depending on the largeess of his wife's father. That's what I'd be. Well, thank you anyway. I gave up my dream of being a writer. Because I can give up my dream of marrying the girl I love. Matilda, dear, you're not going out on a blustery day like this. Why not, Papa? Well, you've just recovered from a severe cold. You mustn't take a chance on contracting another. But I'll be protected in the carriage. And there's something I must do. Is it something about Washington? Yes. I think you'd be better off not thinking any more about him, Matilda. He's stubborn and impractical and he hasn't... And he hasn't been to see me in three days. Yes, I know. If you understand, he's too proud to continue on the terms you offered him. He doesn't realize how much ability he really has. That's why I must talk to him. I'm afraid it'll be fruitless, Matilda. Besides, when he left my office, he disappeared. How will you know where to find him? I think I know. And I promise you, Father, that if I do find him, we'll find a solution together. Is that the carriage theater? Yes, Mrs. Matilda. Oh, I'm so glad we took this road. Washington! Washington! I beg your pardon? Oh, Matilda. Washington, come and get in the carriage, please. I must talk to you. Thank you indeed, but I'm enjoying my walk. Must you be so stubborn? Yes. Good day. Be adored. Start the carriage and drive along the side. Yes, Mrs. Matilda. Washington! I happened to read of a young man in a novel the other day who loved his fiancee enough to tell her why he refused to see her. That doesn't make sense. Of course, if you'd written the novel, it would have made sense. How much will I beg of you? Go away from me. I can't bring you any happiness. I'm a failure in everything I do. Stop the carriage again, Matilda. Yes, Mrs. Matilda. Please help me out, Washington. Thank you. Now will you be my escort, sir, to the top of that high rock? All right. Come along. You might sound as if you wanted to. Step carefully. The rocks are slippery. How is it shining from your dreams? Let's not speak of those. This is the place you used to come to when you were a little boy. Yes. You must have had... I guess I... I haven't. Are you all right, Matilda? Yes, sir. Of course I'm all right. Look. Look out there over the valley. I see. The colors will change for you every minute. Oh, your beauty. It's beautiful. Sometimes it's even more beautiful than it looks. How do you move? When I used to walk along the Hudson with my brothers, sometimes I'd wander up here by myself, listen to the wind in these trees, and watch the changing colors of the valley and the mountains. They're obedient to each shift of the life, Matilda, and in each one I'd see a dream, a story, or a birth, or a bent little man in high boots carrying a keg, or the shadow of a Hessian trooper who rode through the silences of sleepy hollow without his head. Well, I thought I'd write them all someday, but I don't see them now, dear. I do. Do you, Matilda? Do your eyes. Do your eyes, dear, my sweetheart? Oh, listen to me. You've conformed to the world in its conventions long enough. At first I only half realized what working at the law would do to you, but now I see that if you don't go on and work at writing, the changing colors in the Hudson will be lost to you. We'd have lost all you since. All the joy in this country we have and love. What's to become of us and the marriage we plan? We'd starve on the nickels and quarters I could earn from writing a story. People in this story, if you tell, we're in the state of being poor or starting fashion a new land. Writing about America is venturing into a new land, Washington. You'll be the first you see. I want to go with you. You are listening to Thunder on the Hudson, starring Robert Mitchum as Washington Irving and featuring Julie Hayden as Matilda on The Cavalcade of America, sponsored by the DuPont Company, maker of better things for better living through chemistry. In the early part of the 19th century in America, writing as a career was almost unheard of, but young Washington Irving trying to concentrate on the practice of law still dreams of a career in literature. The lovely Matilda Hoffman believes that his talent for writing about his native country is far more important than the security he has worked so hard to achieve for her. Now at a ball given by Matilda's father, they hope to announce their wedding plan. You've been dancing with my betrothed the whole evening, Will. Does it mean I'm the loser to you? I'm not that fortunate, Washington. I've been telling Judge Bennet all about a man named D.D. Nickerbacher, who has written the most comprehensive history of New York. But he hasn't finished it yet. Most of it's only in his mind. He'll finish it soon, though, and when he does, the proceeds of his publication will finance our wedding. As is Nickerbacher, did you say? I've never heard of him. Is he wealthy, a patron of yours, so to speak? Oh, in a way, yes. If the book succeeds, he'll not only be my patron, he'll open a new profession to Americans, writing about Americans. I'm sorry that I've never encountered him in the coffee houses or the clubs. Father Nickerbacher's too sly to be seen in public yet. See, his book may not succeed. It will, Washington. I know it will. Oh, you're playing a joke, taking advantage of me. Literal judge is mine. All right, Will, I cannot tell a lie. Now, I thought dreaming one night about early New York and Peter Stuyvesant and Van Fortland and all the rest, and how they established New Amsterdam. It occurred to me that an old gentleman, a little queer in his ways, and a student of these ancient events, might better be the author of my tales than I. Oh? I called him Diedrich Nickerbacher. I pretended he had left his history of New York as payment of a loan. It was always contracting debts. The tendency I understand all too well. Oh, you are amazing, Washington. But I think of all the time you've wasted trying to be a lawyer. Oh, it wasn't wasted. Through it, I found Matilda. Ah, nice big dance. With your kind consent, I'd like to dance with her if you have me. I can't refuse the most accomplished dancer in all Manhattan. Your arm? Thank you. The gavastice Matilda. A lifetime with my spirit. On a nickel and a quarter. Shining like your future. Shining like our future. Shining like ours. What is it? Matilda, darling, what's wrong? Nothing. I... I seem to lose my breath. Oh, at once. It is something. You've been coughing too much. You've grown too pale. Now come sit down and rest a little. All right. There we are. Comfortable? Oh, yes. Thank you. Let me see your doctor. Oh, it's only a cold. Ah, all the same. You're delicate. Oh, Matilda, I want to see you healthy and strong. We have our own special life of pioneering before us in literature. Exploring our new land, remember? Oh, I'll be strong again. I promise. And we'll explore our new land together. I promise you we will. Washington, I'm glad you've come. I'm worried about Matilda. Has the doctor been here? Yes. But we thought at first it was just as cold as my elites. Worse than we thought. Is she in danger, Mr. Hoffner? I... I don't know. But please, Glinda, she's been asking if you'd come yet. And in Washington, try to cheer her up. I will, sir. Yes, sir. I thought you'd never get here. I came as fast as I could. Hmm. I'm feeling a great deal better today. Of course. In a month, perhaps less, we'll visit our mouth and talk again. I was up there this morning. What, it is beautiful is when we first saw it together? No, not quite. But it's spring. And you said... Don't talk, my dear. I'll tell you about it. There are new spring flowers brought out by the April rains. Oh, Mr. Hoffner. Of course not. I don't know. Of course not. Anyway, the ones in May are brighter and more beautiful. Oh, is it raining? A little. Ah, is it a storm? No. Thunder, I... I'm afraid of it lately, Washington. There's really no thunder, Matilda. Oh, I heard it. People just think that sounds a thunder. Are you going to tell me another of your stories? Do you like them? Oh, please. There's not to speak till I still. All right, I promise. Good. Hear that? One of our little men with the long gray beards and the cat skills has made a strike. All nine pins have gone down. Nine pins? Not very many people have seen those grotesque fellas with their beards and solemn faces. But they're really Hendrik Hudson and his half-moon crew bowling in the mountains. Oh, that's right, Matilda. You needn't smile. You better take them seriously. If you should ever meet them, don't, whatever you do, don't take a drink from the kegs they carry. Because if you do, you'll sleep for 20 years. Oh, sleep for 20 years? It's a lovely idea when one is so tired. Well, it happened. Long time ago, when Rip Van Winkle wandered up into the cat skills one day with his dog and his splintlock. You'll write it, Washington, won't you? Matilda, please. You must lie back. First, promise me that you'll write that story. Yes, sir. I promise. And you'll be the first to read it. And Nicobaca's history of New York and all the rest. I've been the first to hear them, my sweetheart. And I'll carry the delight of them with me wherever I go. So, come in. Sit down. Thank you. Well, I think I'll go back home tomorrow. Oh. No, no, I've been your guest for almost two months. Please, don't leave. I haven't touched my pen to paper. Everywhere I look, I seem to see it. I try to make my people in the stories and sketches speak, because you and I speak, but they're always her words. The way she'd say them, even think them. But she wanted you to write. Yes. Then do it. There's something you must say in your story. Something Matilda would have wanted to say. I know, but it seems unimportant now. It's lost its purpose, its direction, its force. It seems that way now, but sooner or later, the direction and purpose will return. Thank you, Will. You've helped. I wish I could, really. Well, good night. Good night. See you in the morning. Well, let's see. I wonder how this would sound. Nicobarca was preparing a second edition of his history. Wherein he endeavored to correct and improve many passages with which he was to satisfy. But the glow of composition had departed. Oh, what am I doing with the once upon a time? If I had an ounce of sense, I'd go back to the feffers and theftments, deeds and covenants and rits and petitions for a lonely man with no heart for any work. Or a verse, or a little bent man in high boots. I've no heart for it anymore, Matilda. The Hudson Valley is obedient to each shift of the light and in each shadow is a dream. But I don't see them now. One of the little men with the long grey beards up in the Catskills has made a strike. All nine pins have gone down. That's right, Matilda. They really, Henry Cudson, in his half-moon crew bowling in the mountains. The mountains and the valley are even more beautiful than they look. Yes. They hold the treasure of the past to be told and retold. On a nickel and a quarter shining like your future. Shining like our future. Write our legends, Washington. Write them for those who are to come after us. Write, Washington. Write. I will. I will, Matilda. I will write it. A ripped van winkle we should read like this, perhaps. Every change of season, every change of weather, every hour of the day produces some change in the magical hues and shapes of these mountains. When the weather is fair and subtle, they are clothed in blue and purple and print their bold outlines on a clear evening sky. But sometimes, when the rest of the landscape is cloudless, they will gather a hood of flowers about their summits which in the last rays of the setting sun will glow and light up like a crown of glory. I am writing it, Matilda. Now I know how to write of our landscape, our valley and the legends in our country. Our radio audience joins the audience in the theater tonight applauding the performance of Robert Mitchum, Julie Hayden and the rest of tonight's cast on the Cavalcade of America. And now, here's Bill Hamilton of the DuPont Company. Hundreds of thousands of American families in every part of the country are being helped with these and similar problems. A mother writes, my child is underweight. What should she eat to gain weight? Another woman asks, we want to remodel our kitchen, but we don't know how to arrange it. And the farmer says, I hear DDT will kill flies in my kitchen. Where can I get some and how do I use it? All of these people have a common interest. They want to improve their way of life. They hear about new developments of science over the radio, through the press, maybe from a neighbor. But cold scientific facts don't mean too much unless somebody translates them into practical use. This vitally important somebody is the home demonstration agent. She is a college graduate with training in home economics. She is a professor of science in the United States, joint employees of the state land grant colleges, the Department of Agriculture, and the three and a half million families they serve. Thanks to these women, information that contributes to better living reaches homes more properly without years of delay. What do home demonstration agents teach? This year, things like food conservation, home planning, the buying and care of fabrics, and health education. This is National Home Demonstration Week. Women enrolled in home demonstration clubs and girls in 4-H clubs, all a part of this on-the-job education program, will hold open house to highlight the progress made in the past 30 years in applying science to homemaking. If you want to know more about how this home demonstration program can help you, get in touch with your home demonstration agent. Her office is generally at the county seat because she works throughout your county. With the DuPont company, feel an especially warm kinship with these busy, capable home demonstration agents. Because DuPont is interested in fostering scientific research, research that in our case points the way to better things for better living through chemistry. Next week, Cavalcade will present the distinguished Hollywood star Melvin Douglas and village doctor. The inspiring story of Colorado's doctor, Archer Chester Sudan, who recently received the American Medical Association's first annual award for outstanding community service by a general practitioner. We invite you to listen to this heartwarming story on next week's Cavalcade starring Melvin Douglas. Tonight's original DuPont Cavalcade Thunder on the Hudson was written by Russell Hughes and Virginia Radcliffe. Music was composed by Arden Cornwell and conducted by Donald Bryan. Robert Mitchell will soon be seen in RKO's production Rachel and the Stranger. This is Ted Pearson inviting you to listen next week to village doctor starring Melvin Douglas. Cavalcade of America is presented each week from the stage of the Longacre Theater on Broadway in New York and is brought to you by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware. This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.