 The Cavalcade of America, presented by Jupan. The story of Nancy Hanks, mother of Abraham Lincoln. Starring the well-known radio actress Agnes Morehead in the role of Nancy Hanks. The Jupan Company, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, present the Cavalcade of America, dedicated to those men and women in every walk of life who have shaped the destiny of America in the past and to the youth of today who will shape the destiny of America in the world of tomorrow. No more suitable time could be found to present at the subject of our Cavalcade the story of Abraham Lincoln's mother as a tribute for Mother's Day. And as you hear this moving account of the life of a frontier woman, you may well compare the hardships of her time with the many comforts and inventions that make life easier and pleasanter in homes today. Probably the greatest demonstration of this progress to war better living can be seen in the many exhibits at the World's Fair in New York, which is indeed a new and greater fair for 1940. This spirit of progress and newness is well shown in one of the most popular exhibits, Jupan's Wonder World of Chemistry, where many amazing demonstrations have been added to this Cavalcade of Scientific Marvel. Visitors will watch with amazement the chemical girl of 1940 appeared in an apparently empty piece of chemical apparatus radiant and smiling, dressed from head to foot in clothing created by Jupan chemistry, the young lady comes from the nowhere into plain sight. Another new feature of the Jupan show is called the growth of crystals, a strange and lovely spectacle in which the weird happenings seen under the chemist's microscope are magnified to giant size. Crystals grow before your eyes in breathtaking color effects projected by polarized light. This demonstration gives you part of the inside story of the Jupan research that discovered nylon, the astounding new material made from coal, air and water. And in another part of Jupan's exhibit you'll see stockings being knitted of nylon yarn, just as they are being made right now in hosiery mills for offering this month throughout the nation. The manufacture of cellophane cellulose film, too, is demonstrated, as well as the weaving of rayon, the molding of tumblers from crystal clear lucite plastic. And you can watch another interesting machine put external bristles made of nylon into toothbrushes. The first hand view is given of neoprene man-made rubber, while the demonstration show how the whitest white paint in the world is made from black sand. Millicles performed by dyes and other marvels of chemistry. This is the world of chemistry at the 1940 Fair in New York. And when you're in Atlantic City be sure to stop in at the Jupan exhibit on the Atlantic City Boardwalk where many of the same demonstrations may be seen. A cordial welcome awaits you and your friends. We're sure that when you've seen what Jupan is doing to contribute to the American way of life that you'll see the true meaning of our pledge. Better things for better living through chemistry. The story of Nancy Hanks who was born in Virginia and brought to the wilderness when I was yet a babe. I never seen my Paul but Maude loved him and I grew to love him too, I reckon. Maude said he was a gentleman. I liked to stay to myself. I was always like that. Like I was waiting. Like looking the far off and waiting for things to happen. I was always like that. I was always like that. Things to happen. Like I know what they were to be before they came to pass. Like seeing Tom Lincoln that day crossing the field young man and waiting to hear the words I know they come to speak to you. I'm minded to marry you, Nancy. I'm come to get your answer. I know that what you thought, Tom. I bought a piece of land over to Elizabeth Town. Elizabeth Town? You see the hills from there? I built a cabin there first, Nancy. Oh, Tom, I'm proud to be spoke for by such a man as you. Ain't much I can offer you. Just a home and my love, Nancy. Tom, I can't say the words I want to say. Is it that you love another, Nancy? No, Tom, I love you well. It's just... It's just... What's the matter, Nancy? I can't rightly say it, Tom. It's like the purple light yonder in the hills. But when you get to the hills, it ain't there anymore. It's always yonder. You're a girl, Nancy, and girls get to thinking like that. But so much of me is like that. You'll be happy, Nancy. I promise. No, Tom, it wouldn't be fair to you. Nancy, you're a strange woman. I don't rightly know what you're saying. But I believe God meant you and me right together. I'm coming back again tomorrow and I aim to make you my wife. Nancy Hanks, take the Thomas Lincoln to be my lawful wedded husband. To have and to hold to love, honor, and obey until death do us part. I, Thomas Lincoln, take the Nancy Hanks to be my lawful wedded wife. To have and to hold to love and to cherish until death do us part. Happy that day to be Tom's wife. And after the preacher finished the reading, come the wedding feast. What we used to call in fair in Kentucky. The men had shot bear in venison and wild turkey and ducks. And the women folk had worked for many days to prepare it all. And there they all were with the music and dance them. The race for the best bottle whiskey in Kentucky. Let's be off with this. You're not being a race to get a bottle whiskey. Now, man, the race will be from here to Yonah Kibber and back. And the winner gets the whiskey. All right now, line up now, line up. Mind you don't win the race, Charlie. Maybe it won't be too hard to make sartin of that, Ginny. I'd make sartin who'd win if I was in it. Oh, would you? You ain't got to go blabbing off to me that way. Here, here, here. Be quiet now of our sartin. Lincoln's ahead now. He's the best sprinter I've ever seen. It's my lucky day, I guess. Well, ain't you going to pass it around, Tom? I reckon I will. But first, propose a toast to the lady who this day's made me the happiest man in the world. Nancy Hanks Lincoln. Nancy, it's done at last. Ain't much, but it's our home. It's our home. The prettiest place in the world, Tom. Oh, it ain't that. I know it ain't. I hankered to do much better for you, but I will, Nancy. I will, too. I'll be happy here. I want you to be. I hope you'll be, Nancy. Oh, Tom, you're so good. We'll both be happy in this place. I know that. Let's find out you boards for the floor and a smooth pine table. Would you like that, Nancy? Nancy, you ain't even looking at the house. Over yonder, Tom. Quite blossomed. Crab apple. Wild crab apple. Oh, yes. Right pretty, ain't it? Not as pretty as you are, though. And the hills yonder like I know it would be. Yes, sure. Well, come on, Nancy. Look at that cabin. You see that there's thick clay chimney? You think you can be happy in such a place? So happy, Tom. So happy it bare-hooked me to think on it. But for Tom, it was rocky. And the clay stepped to the plowshare. For me, it was grubbin', washin', patchin' and fixin'. But there was a rock spring. And sometimes I'd sit there lookin' all the time. And I'd sit there, lookin' all the time. And sometimes I'd sit there lookin' off to the hills. It was there one day I knew I'd not be lookin' yonder alone come springtime. But my time was comin'. Nancy, you've been yonderin' the rock spring again. Yes, Tom. I asked you not to go there alone, Nancy. It ain't safe in that timber. You recollect what happened to Tim Beardley? I won't die. Not like that, Tom. Nancy, what's havin' you? I'm the bear, your child. Nancy. It'll be a man, child. A son. I'll be right proud to have a son, Nancy. Right proud. You will be. Oh, so proud you're like to be. And you'll be happy, Nancy. Yes. Yes, Tom, every hour that God shall give me to be with my son. Where you be off to? To drop fish line or two? Will you go by the granny woman? Aunt Peggy Waters? She's to the side of the slope. Sure, but fetch her, will you, neighbor? Oh, can't Tom, those fish don't bite. You've got to fetch the granny woman for me, neighbor. I can't leave. Nancy needs help starting now. Oh, sure. Sure, I'll fetch her. Sure, Tom, right away. Hey, what a pretty picture. I think he favors his pa, Mike. Don't you, Dennis? He don't look like nothin', Miss Lincoln. What do you say? Who does he favor? Well, I... I don't... I don't rightly know, Nancy. We just look at that chili, or, Miss Lincoln, a blushing to the hell. You can never see a wee baby before, Dennis? Well, yes, but... Not like that. I mean, well, ain't he alien of Mike? Of course he ain't alien, Dennis. Why did he say that? He'd be so red of face and wrinkled like a monkey he is. All new babies look like that, Dennis. Oh. Could I hold him a mice? Be careful, Dennis. For you are the first boy he's ever seen. Oh, there now. Up you go. I'm thinking he don't take to me. You ain't holding him right, Dennis. Here. Now, like, like to this. You see? Oh, like, like, like this? Nancy. What will you name him, Nancy? I'm going to name him Abraham. Abraham? Yes. For his grandfather. Abraham Lincoln. It's the rights down the name. Read me some more of the Bible, Ma. Well, Moses rose up early in the morning and went up until Mount Sinai, as the Lord had commanded him, and took in his hand two tables of stone. And the Lord descended in the cloud and stood with him there and proclaimed the name of the Lord. Is that the end of the story, Ma? No, Abe. For it was there that Moses got the Ten Commandments and let his people out of slavery. Yes, Abe. Did Moses truly talk to God? Truly, Abe. But Ma, why, did he talk with folks nowadays? He does, Abe, but folks ain't a listening. Well, if folks was listening, Ma, would it sound like thunder? No, Abe. It'd be like in the night here in our cabin when you get up from your pallet to put sticks on the fire before the light comes. And I say, is that you, Abe? And you say, yes, Ma, it's me. Yes, son. What are you building? What for, Pa? Don't tell your Ma yet. But we're fixing to move on up the river to the Indiana. Tom, Lincoln, stop that pounding. Your wife's asleep in her and the new baby. All right, Aunt Figgy. How is Nancy? She's well enough. Now, get on about your business, Tom. I've got my work to do. And don't be coming into the house. Well, I reckon that leaves nothing for us to do, but talk, Abe. Why are we going to Indiana, Pa? Because of the new settlers. They're coming up from the south thousands of them, some with slaves too. Independent farmer ain't got a chance. What does independent mean, Pa? Well, I reckon it means being poor, having nothing at all. Slaves ain't independent, but they don't need to worry where the next meals are coming from. What's the matter, Abe? You look as solemn as a papo's. How's it thinking? Ma told me of another big word. Predestination. That's a whopper. What's that mean, Abe? Well, it means that what's going to happen there is going to happen anyways, and folks can't do nothing to stop it. Maybe it's like that about us going to Indiana. The new baby and everything. Yeah, your Ma believes on that, but not me. Why, I remember one time... Tom. Yeah, and, baby? You'd better come on in. I'm coming. What are you about to say? Well, the new baby can't have a breather no more. Don't tell Nancy yet. Let her sleep. I'll tell her in the morning. Is your pa and your finish loading the raft, Abe? Almost, Ma. Right soon we'll be riding there to Indiana. You'll like that, won't you? You will, too, Ma. A riding like Pharaoh's daughter on the Nile. Oh, Abe. A little short tail, boy. You want to go to Indiana, don't you? Of course, Abe. It's just leaving the hills that's made me agree. Abe, I want you to promise me something. Yes, Ma. When we get to Indiana, you must go to the teaching woman again. I know, Ma. Don't let nothing ever stop your learning. I won't. It'll be powerful hard, Abe, and there'll be some folks that won't understand. What won't folks understand? Because some folks is content, Abe. They want things to be like they always was. They want things to be like they always was. But you ain't to be that way, Abe. I promise you, Ma. I'll mind my learning. Abe. Oh, I can't say the words, and you're such a little tyke. Oh, I can't say the words, and you're such a little tyke. But I have a feeling, Abe. Like you were going to have burdens when you get out younger. And I want you strong to carry them. I'll remember, Ma. I promise you. Right, Abe. You can read it if you'd like to, Ma. Abraham Lincoln. His hand and pen. He will be good. But God knows when. Oh, you're learning fast and right well, Abe. The teaching woman at the school is my law and most too fast. Maybe just a compliment. Yes. The teaching woman were telling of the president. He lives in a great house in the city in the east. There's thousands of people back there, she says, living in houses right up against each other. There's no words in between. You'll see them things one day. I am never to see them things, Ma. Why don't you want to see them, Abe? What? I don't rightly know. I reckon I'm scared of all them people together. Like they were in the courthouse square when the speech makers come and came talking. And talking them big words and wearing queer star-bottom clothes and them all and yelling their heads off. I was scared. I felt kind of sick like. You'll feel different when you're grown up, Abe. I will feel no different. Some people are mean. They seem to harm each other. No, Abe, they don't aim to do no harm. They don't know no better. I never had no book learn and aid, but your grandma come all the way from Virginia and seen a lot in her day. And she told me folks ain't never really mean. Some folks is just powerful and independent. I reckon that's the way it truly is, Abe. Abe? Abe? Yes, Pa? Go fetch me a pail of water. I aim to wash up and rest a mile. I'll fetch it right off, Pa. Cabin must be nice and finished, Tom. Well, move in tomorrow, Nancy. Hope you like it. I'll like it. There's some logs left over. Logs? Anything you'd like me to make you with them? Save them, Tom. Maybe I'll need something later on. Happy in the new house singing while I've done matured. But come summer, I've begun thinking back to the hills back yonder in Kentucky. And then come the sickness in Indiana. And I know then why I asked Tom to save them logs and keep them dry for a fellow bitter burning in my throat. And I know would you some more out in the book, Ma? Read me the some about the hills. The one I love so well in. I will lift up my eyes onto the hills. Some will come with my help. You remember the hills in Kentucky, Tom? I will lift up my eyes onto the hills. Nancy. I just can't say the words I want to say, Tom. Rest, Nancy. Rest quiet now. Remember the schooling, Tom. I want Abe to learn all he can. I know. It's meant to be. Now you know what I was meaning about always being yonder in my mind, Tom. Yes, Nancy. You see, it's meant to be. Grow up, Abe. Be good to your Paul and be good to your people. You're out, young man. Nancy Hanks came back as a ghost seeking news of what she loved most. She'd ask first. Where's my son? What's happened to Abe? What's he done? Poor little Abe left all alone. Except for Tom who's a rolling stone. There's only nine the year I die. I remember still how hard he cried. Scraping along in a little shack with hardly a shirt to cover his back. And the prairie wind was blowing down for pinching time if he went to town. You wouldn't know about my son. Did he grow tall? Did he have fun? Did he learn to read? Did he get to town? Do you know his name? Did he get on? In tribute to American motherhood, the Cavalcade of America honors the memory of Nancy Hanks, mother of Abraham Lincoln. Thank you, Agnes Morehead. And now we present the Cavalcade of America historian Dr. Frank Monahan of Gale University with news of next week's program. Next week Cavalcade presents the story of Roger Williams, the foremost American crusader for complete religious liberty. Many groups came to America seeking freedom, but when they found it some made it a selfish freedom to dispute those who did not agree with them. This seemed to Williams a most peculiar and undesirable kind of freedom. His agitation for the separation of church and state in Massachusetts caused his banishment. But when Williams founded Providence more than 300 years ago, he made it the one place in America where a man could think his own thoughts, worship God in his own fashion, and exercise an equal share in government. Roger Williams found the perfect liberty he sought, but he went beyond and used it for his fellow men as well. In our story of Roger Williams next week the Cavalcade of America presents in the title role the popular radio actor Ray Collins. The orchestra and the original musical effects on the Cavalcade of America are under the direction of Don Burrys. The poem Nancy Hanks at the close of our drama was written by Rosemary Bene and is from a book of Americans by Rosemary and Stephen Vincent Bene. It is Basil Riesdale saying good night and best wishes from Dupont. This is the National Broadcasting Company.