 The Cavalcade of America. Starring Glenn Ford as Nathaniel Hawthorne in a Valentine for Sophia, presented by the DuPont Company, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Good evening. This is Bill Hamilton. Among DuPont's better things for better living through chemistry are DuPont Duco and DuPont Dulux finishes. Today, many manufacturers of furniture or kitchen equipment help you to buy with your eyes open. They put a little tag on new furniture, refrigerators, or washing machines. This tag assures you that the brand new look will stay that way for a long time, thanks to DuPont Duco or Dulux finishes. It also tells you how to clean and care for these finishes, so they will stay better looking longer. So the next time you shop for furniture or kitchen equipment, look for the tag that says DuPont Duco or DuPont Dulux. Both of these durable finishes are among DuPont's better things for better living through chemistry. With Glenn Ford as Nathaniel Hawthorne, here is a Valentine for Sophia. I have written many stories during my lifetime, but to me the most important is the one I never wrote, the story of my own romance. As the storytellers say, once upon a time, I was walking in the woods near my home in Salem, Massachusetts with a very, very lovely young lady, Miss Sophia Peabody. It was a winter day in 1839. Ah, well, there's nothing like a brisk walk on a cold day to stir up the blood. Yes, I suppose that's true. Ah, the woods are breathtaking this time of year, aren't they? Breathtaking is the word. I declare Nathaniel Hawthorne, a walk more like a kangaroo than a man. Wait for me. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, darling. I get so carried away with being outdoors on a day like this and being with you. I forget. It's all right. I wouldn't have you any other way. Come over here, Sophie, under this tree. All right, now rest a minute. All right. Let's sit on this log here. Beginning to snow again. But look, look, we've got a roof over our heads. Yes. And if we only had a fireplace with a fire in it, it'd be our house. On winter afternoons like this, we look out at the snow. Here. Here are my coats around your shoulders. The log's our sofa. Mr. and Mrs. Nathaniel Hawthorne at home. Shall I fetch your pipe and slippers, my husband? Oh, no. Oh, my no. Don't trouble my dear wife. One of our six sturdy sons will fetch them for me. Now, how would you like to have your tea piping hot or, oh, perhaps you'd like to have it saucered a little bit? What's wrong? Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Nathaniel, ought we to dream this way. Well, why not? Oh, we'll make it come true someday, maybe even sooner than someday. Is that what you want? Oh, listen, Sophie, I've got some stories published and there'll be others. I want to take care of you. I want to watch over you. Be with you when all those terrible headaches of yours comes on. I don't seem to have them when I'm with you. Like today? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. It's quite plain, my dear. You're in love. Are you, Nathaniel? Does this let you know it? Yes. Yes. Then always, no matter what happens to the world or to us, my kiss will always let you know just as it does now. I came home that afternoon with wings attached to my winter boots and as I entered the house, my sister Elizabeth was practicing at the harp. Liz, Liz, I've got wonderful news. Don't interrupt me, please, Nathaniel. This is such a difficult piece to master. Well, really. How can I concentrate with you standing there grinning at me? Oh, she loves me, Liz. She loves me. I beg your pardon, who loves you? Well, Sophia, of course. Sophia? Oh, I see. Yes, I suppose you're dedicating that story to her would turn her head. None of the other young men in town could have thought of a Valentine half so romantic. Oh, Liz, what's the matter? I'm not seeing nothing. Except I'm the one who's helped you all these years, understood what you were striving for in your writing. I realize I'm just your sister and you'd never think of dedicating anything to me. Oh, no, please. Please don't take it that way, Liz. Now, look, I wanted to give Sophia a Valentine. I didn't have the money to buy her a gift, so I... So now she's told you she loves you. Yes, and I'm the happiest man from here to China and back. We're going to be married, Liz. Married? Yes, is that so startling? I mean, it is the usual procedure when a man falls in love. Yes, of course. Congratulations, dear. And I must call on sweet little Sophia. When do you suppose I might go and be sure she isn't suffering for one of her terrible headaches? Well, her sister's having people in tomorrow night. I suppose you've set the date for the wedding. I know. Why, what difference does it make? A great deal, I should think. When a man has no money to support his ailing bride, he must find some way to earn it. That's all right. We'll manage. And then, of course, there's no use expecting her to be of any help around the house. What are you trying to do to me, Liz? Nothing, nothing. I'm only being practical. You've lived here all these years with your mother and me to look after you. You've no need to think of anything but your writing. And it's only sensible to consider what it will mean to marry an invalid. After all, your stories haven't brought you much money yet. Oh, Crash. What do you mean, Crash? Oh, you have a wonderful way, Liz, of crashing a man's air castles down around his ears. Oh, because you're a dreamer. As a writer of stories must be. You could go on, just as you've always have. Things could be as they've always been. Oh, no, Liz. Today's different from yesterday. This afternoon's wonderfully different from this morning. I've fallen in love. I'm going to marry Sophia and Liz. Both of us might as well face it. It was good of you to come by for tea this evening, Miss Hawthorne. You know my sister Elizabeth Peabody, of course. Of course, yes. It's nice to see you again. It's a little confusing, too, Elizabeth. Nathaniel calls me Liz. Which I think she secretly hates. Don't you, Liz? Not at all, dear. You've called me that ever since we were children. Well, it do come into the party. Yes, over here by the fire. Thank you. I understand you're starting a bookshop in Boston, Miss Peabody. Oh, not only that. She's promised to sell only books by Nathaniel Hawthorne. I wish that were possible. It will be someday when he's written hundreds of books. In the meantime, there is something I'd like to talk over with you, Nathaniel. An idea I have about attracting more buyers for your twice-told tales. Miss Peabody, I'm in favor of it already. Whatever it is. Then will you all excuse us for a few moments? It will be long. Let's go into the library, Nathaniel. Yes, all right. Oh, isn't my sister wonderful? She'd do anything to help Nathaniel. I suppose we're all prejudiced where Nathaniel is concerned. I don't think it's prejudiced. He's going to be a great author. Do you really believe that, Sophia? Of course. Don't you? Well, naturally, if he isn't turned away from it by worry and nagging little trouble, has he told you? He'll have a wife to worry for him to keep those troubles away from him. So I've heard. My congratulations, dear. Thank you. I assume you've been feeling better recently. Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. You naturally wouldn't wish your illness to be a burden. A burden? Well, I'm sure you've tried to greet many remedies. Now, you expect the trouble to leave you permanently, miraculously, so you can be married, is that it? Well, it just seems perfectly right and natural that we should fall in love and want to be married. Oh, Sophia, forgive me. You must think me just a meddling busybody. But believe me, I know my brother and how sensitive he is. Why, even when I'm not feeling well, he gets spitefully upset. Oh, I don't know what to say. I hadn't thought of it in that light before. Well, Sophia, Liz, we have it all planned. Miss Peabody is going to just... Well, what's the matter, darling? Nothing. Look, there's something wrong. No, it's nothing. Oh, you're pale all of a sudden. Tell me. No, no, leave me alone. Sophie. I don't want to talk about it. I'm going upstairs. Please go on with the party, everyone, and forgive me. But I just have to be alone for a while. Oh, Sophie. I don't, Nathaniel. She's right. We'd better leave her strictly alone. Every day, for a week after that, I called it Sophia's home. Each time I was told that she was growing worse, and then, all at once, the pain seemed to leave her completely, and I was allowed to see her for a few minutes. She lay on the sofa in the parlor, exhausted, pale, and utterly beautiful. Hello. Hello, little Sophie. Hello, Nathaniel. It went away all of a sudden, just like that? Yes. Almost as soon as I'd reached my decision. What decision? Nathaniel. I'm not going to marry you until I know I'm well. What? If God intends us to be together, He will let me be cured. If not, it'll be a sign that it is not best. But we could wait forever, darling, while you waited to see if another attack was coming on. I can't let myself spoil your life. What you do with it is far too important. What I have to do is earn some money, and if it means I were getting married sooner, I'll go out and I'll dig holes in the Erie Canal. Whatever happened, you must not stop writing. Oh, Sophia, you're going to be stubborn and refuse to marry me. Only until I know I'm well, and then only if you still have me. All right, then I'm going to be stubborn, too. Until I've earned enough to marry you, I shall not write another word. How little I knew about the world of work and commerce in those days of my youth. I thought that since... well, since I was known in Salem, I could go anywhere in the town and begin right away to make the... the fortune that would transform our lives. I thought, too, that my sister would oppose me. Instead, she... well, she seemed to sympathize with my failure to find work, and unknown to me, she paid a quiet visit to Sophia's sister. I'm convinced, Miss Peabody, we've got to do something for Nathaniel and Sophia. Yes, I agree, but what can we do? Can't very well help Nathaniel sell stories he hasn't written. I don't mean that. Like you, I want him to be happy, and there's no reason why he can't find some other word that would solve all this. Even if he has to be away from Salem. You haven't talked to him about going away. Oh, no, no, no. But I... I was thinking that since you know so many people in Boston, perhaps you might know of some position he could fill. Well, I do know a collector of the port at Boston, Mr. George Bancroft. Perhaps there's a clerkship open at the Custom House. It wouldn't be easy. He wouldn't have much time to visit Sophia here in Salem, then, would he? I mean, if your friend could get in the position. No, I'm afraid not. Oh, too bad. Well, I suppose it's my duty, however, to tell Nathaniel about the possibility of it, since he's so determined to take absolutely anything. I'll speak to Mr. Bancroft if you like, though I still don't approve of Nathaniel doing it. My dear, neither do I, and especially for poor dear Sophia, say, but he wants a position, what can you do with a man as stubborn as Nathaniel? And so it was that Miss Elizabeth Peabody, in all innocence and out of the goodness of her heart, helped me obtain a position at the Custom House in Boston, where my duty was to measure salt and coal. And though Boston was not a great distance from Salem, I might have been a whole universe away from the only girl I ever loved. You're listening to a Valentine for Sophia, starring Glenn Ford as Nathaniel Hawthorne on The Cavalcade of America, presented by the DuPont Company, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Nathaniel Hawthorne continues this story he never wrote himself, the story of his own romance. The wars of Boston Harbor were a new and absorbing world to me. Only at night in my solitary room was there time to think of the past, of Sophia who would not marry me until a cure for her illness was found, and each night during the long months of my exile, I wrote her a letter. There's a letter from Nathaniel every day, Liz. It's almost as if he were writing me a book, a story, hour by hour. How nice. Where do you suppose my brother finds the time? I don't know. He works so hard. Listen, this came this morning. He says, and then my angel. Are you sure you want to read his letter to me, Sophia? Way of course. This is nothing he'd want to hide from you. It's generous of you, dear. He says, and then my angel. I find I'm learning something new and increasingly wondrous in the activity of the wars. There's a kind of working democracy here where America shows her face to the world and may it ever be there. The sailors, the busy merchants, the multi-colored crowds, all mingled in the daily pursuit of a guaranteed free opportunity. I've emerged from my silent study to discover people, and years hence the experience my heart is acquiring now will flow out in truth and wisdom. Oh, Liz, don't just see what that means. He is a dreamer still. It means that this time I thought was wasted isn't wasted after all. He's gathering experience. He'll write it all someday. Yes, that's very true. He may yet. The fire, you seem a little stronger somehow. Oh, when a lad I like this, when a rise from this van you like. I think I draw strength from the very ink and paper he views. For such a pity, though, to go on and on, try in one treatment after another and never to find relief. I will go on and on until I do. And if you don't, I mustn't think of that. Oh, but you must. He will write it all someday, you say. But when will that someday be if through the years a leech, which he calls loyalty or love, is drawing on his inspiration, his vitality? That's not true. You can see for yourself in his letters, that's not true. His letters to me are quite different, Sophia. Well, naturally, he'd write different letters to his sister than he would to me. Oh, but don't forget I know him. I've worked with him, looked after him. I've been close to him all his life. I know his mood. This problem will weigh upon him until all the creative power has gone out of him. I can't let that happen. No, no, of course you can't. You're too sensible. But sometimes a woman, if she keeps her distance, can observe an artist as he never sees himself. My brother is no ordinary man. He will never marry, never so debased himself. He is an ideal man. He pursues his own path, and any deviation is a lessening of his artistry. Oh, no, he loves me. Isn't it better to hurt him now before it's too late? Isn't it? Yes, sir. I suppose you're right. You always are. A letter came to me from Sophia. I'll never forget the sudden blackness of the day, as if the sun had been clouded over by a black robe. I left the noisy docks carrying nothing for my work anymore, and I walked the streets of Boston. Oh, it may have been a few minutes. It may have been a few hours. But suddenly I found myself in front of a bookshop. It was the one owned by Elizabeth Peabody, Sophia's sister. Why hadn't I thought of coming here before? I went inside and... Miss Sanya. Oh, I'm so glad to see you. Hello, Miss Peabody. Why haven't you dropped in before this for a minute at least? I don't know, Miss Peabody. I haven't any excuse. Well, never mind now. There's someone here I think you ought to meet. He's a young philosopher, a poet. Mr. Emerson thinks very highly of him. Come along. I know he'll want to meet you. No, wait. I'd rather not see anyone right now. All right. I understand. Tell me, did Sophia write you, too? Yes. Could she mean what she said? I'm afraid Sophia always means what she said. Yes. I can believe that. Well, I... Well, you have a fine collection of books, Miss Peabody. Thank you. I hope to have more one day with Nathaniel Hawthorne's name on the title page. No, no, no. These, the books on your shelves now are the ones I might have written. I don't like to hear that kind of talk. Well, I beg your pardon. This is a gentleman I wanted you to meet. Nathaniel Hawthorne. This is Mr. Henry Thoreau. How do you do? You're Nathaniel Hawthorne. Saying these books are the ones you might have written. May I say I'd rather read your next book than any of these here. Thank you, but there isn't going to be any next book. No. Well, I'm sorry to hear that. You'll mean a great loss to the world. That's a funny one. Mr. Hawthorne, I could understand an old man whose life has perhaps been lived unworthily, looking back and speaking bitterly as you do, but for a young man deliberately to deny his future. And if his future is only a dream that vanishes when he wakes... He must find it again. Pursue it. Advance confidently in its direction. If one endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, my friend, he will meet with a success unimagined in common hours. If you build castles in the air... They crash down around your ears. Because you've forced them to earth. The air is where they should be. It is for you to put the foundations under the foundation. Yes. Faith in your own strength. What you have to give to the world. Children aren't born with fear of the future, and yet children who play life descend its true law more clearly than men who fail to live it worthily. In other words, you'd have me believing in fairy tales, in miracles again. I've read your stories, Mr. Hawthorne. I've come to know you through what you've written. Perhaps in your heart, you'll never stop believing. Yes. Yes, that's true. That's true, Thoreau. Miss Peabody, forgive me, but there's a stage leaving for Salem in 20 minutes, and I want to be on it. Salem, Nathaniel? Yes, there's someone there who's afraid, tragically afraid. Now, she's going to learn to believe in miracles again, too. I was in Salem by means of the same wings I'd had on my boots that long ago, winter afternoon. I found Sophia in the parlor of her house, and with her was my sister. Nathaniel! Why? What are you doing here? Well, I might ask you the same thing, Liz. But when did you come back? This afternoon. Well, well, Miss Nathaniel, it'll be like old times having you home again. We'll work on your stories. I'll set your tea for you. It would be very nice... Put on your coat, Sophie. We're going for a walk. A walk? Oh, no, I can't. Can't you see the poor girl is suffering from a chill, even in a warm house? No. You say so, Liz, but I don't notice it. Are you suffering from a chill, Sophie? Not really, but... But you are, Liz. You're suffering from a chill that has crept into your heart. You're the sick one here, not Sophia. How can you talk like that? Seeing you here, I begin to remember things that you said, things you've written. Things Sophia has written. They've all had the same pattern. Now I begin to realize what you've been doing while it's all over. I was only thinking of your work, of your future. Then you admit it. Art, go on, admit it. You've done your best to ruin both our lives. I was only trying to save you. That's all I cared about. I never wanted you to be an ordinary man. I wanted you to be great. I wanted you to be above the world. With Sophia perhaps I will be, Liz. I only wanted to save you. I... I don't know. I don't know. Oh, my poor, poor unhappy Liz. Come on, darling, you and I are going for a walk. Am I going a little too fast for you, little Sophie? No. I've been looking around here. I've been looking for that tree that we built a... Remember we built a home one afternoon? Oh, yes. Well, now let's see. Is it that one? Oh, it is, Nathaniel. Look, look right over there. Come on, come on. It's the very same log, Nathaniel. Very same. Well, here we are. Say, you know, I talked to Thoreau in Boston. I mean, he talked to me. He said, children who play life discern its true law more clearly than men who fail to live it worthily. Well, you know, that's what we were doing that afternoon when we sat here together and looked at the snow through an imaginary window. Nathaniel? Shall we look through it ever again? Oh, we are right now. Listen, darling, do you believe I'll become a writer who's worth anything at all? Oh, I've always believed that. Now, you see, I've learned a great deal about this country at the Custom House, Sophie. About the people of America working as they choose, building for the future as they choose. That's the story I'll write. Yes, and I'll write it well. I know you will. Then if you believe in me, you must believe in us. If your faith in our love is strong enough, I know you will never be ill again. Oh, my darling, don't you remember? Whenever we've been together, loving each other like this, you've been, you've been well and happy? Oh, yes, Nathaniel. Yes, it's true. Just like, just like in a story. Oh, it is a story, but one I'll never write. No? No, no, no, little Sophie, because we'll be living it. And so, as the storytellers say, it came to pass. Sophie and I were married, and our love, it did work a miracle. Her illness vanished forever, and as in all stories that begin with once upon a time, we lived happily ever after. Bill Hamilton speaking for Dupont. This year, the Dupont Company has made available to each of 10 universities the sum of $10,000 for unrestricted use in the field of fundamental chemical research. These awards, known as grants in aid, must be used for chemical research which has no immediate commercial goal, and the results of this research are to be freely available for publication. These grants in aid are designed to contribute to the flow of fundamental knowledge and science. For upon this knowledge depends much of the future industrial development of our country and the standard of living of American people. Today, there is little work being done in European universities in fundamental research, and even American universities, to some extent, have found it necessary to undertake applied research for a fee at the expense of fundamental research, which they are so well equipped to carry forward. The Dupont Company believes that industry can both for its own and for the national interest help our universities to increase the stockpiling of basic knowledge. The Dupont Company is also continuing the plan it has followed for some 30 years of awarding fellowships to postgraduate students of science. This year, there will be 77 postgraduate and postdoctoral fellowships in chemistry, physics, metallurgy and engineering at 47 universities. The students and their research subjects will be selected by university authorities. The individuals who receive these fellowships will be under no obligation to the Dupont Company. Each postgraduate student selected will receive $1,200 if single and $1,800 if married, in addition to which there will be an award of $1,000 to the university. Each postdoctoral award provides $3,000 in addition to which the university receives $1,500. We of the Dupont Company well know that it is the accumulation of knowledge flowing from the laboratories of universities and industry that contributes to the welfare of people everywhere. Within our own organization, it is this ever-growing body of knowledge which enables us to improve old product and develop new one. Justifying our pledge of better things for better living through chemistry. Tonight's cavalcade play, A Valentine for Sophia, was written by Virginia Radcliffe. It was based on the book Nathaniel Hawthorne by Randall Stewart published by the Yale University Press. Music was composed by Arden Cornwell conducted by Donald Bryan. Sophia was played by Alice Reinhardt. Liz was Muriel Kirkland. Next Monday, the eve of Washington's birthday, we will bring you an original radio play, The Unheroic Hero, an exciting story of a young man whose whole life was changed because of a dramatic meeting with George Washington. Our star will be the popular favorite of the screen, Douglas Fairbanks. And the following week, Rosalind Russell. Our star, Glenn Ford, who appeared on cavalcade tonight as Nathaniel Hawthorne, is currently starring in the Columbia picture Undercover Man. The Unlocated of America is directed by Jack Zoller, and comes to you each week from the stage of the Long Acre Theatre on Broadway in New York, and is presented by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware. This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.