 The DuPont Cavalcade of America, starring William Powell. Good evening, this is William Powell. Tonight there may be some old and forgotten memories in store for those of us who recall one of Summertime's most wonderful customs, taking the family to the Chautauqua. Our play tonight, Chautauqua Fable, is a story of a small boy. His name, Dewey Craver, doesn't matter a great deal because Dewey could be any one of us. Me, for example. Let's look at it as though I were really telling you about myself and my father, and a boyhood visit to the Chautauqua. I haven't played many 11-year-old boys lately, so that very fine child actor, Donald Hastings, will be in Dewey. However, it is comparatively easy for me to remember my own father, so in tonight's story I'll be Dewey's father as well as your narrator. Chautauqua Fable, an original radio play starring William Powell as the narrator and as the father of the boy, Dewey Craver, on the DuPont Cavalcade of America. When I was 11 years old, back in the year 1910, I always hoped I'd grow up to be like Mr. Sprig, who drove the buggy for the U.S. mail. Hello Dewey! Hello Mr. Sprig! It didn't seem there could be a better job than Mr. Sprig's any place. Nothing to do but drive a fast-stepping horse all day long. He got to go to Belleville every day. That was 16 miles. I was lucky if I got there once a year. Oh, holy hell! Let her free your ma from Belleville, Dewey. Yes, that's my Aunt Kathleen. She and ma are always writing. Somebody's got to, or I wouldn't have a job. How about letting me write a piece with you on your mail, Mr. Sprig? Government don't allow it, Dewey. How do I know that you ain't a mail robber? Have her meet me robbers, Mr. Sprig? Why, I just shot up a whole gang of them on my way here. Honest? Yeah. If you don't believe me, go look at the bodies. I left eight of them littering up the road. Oh, I guess you're fooling me, Mr. Sprig. Yeah, I guess I am, Dewey. Mr. Sprig, when can I start to learn to be a mailman? Right now. Can't you deliver that letter to your ma? Come on, Dewey. Here you go. I love my mother very much. But she had one habit that I could hardly stand when I was a boy. Any time that she'd get a letter from Aunt Catherine, she'd read it out loud to Paul and me and Sister Martha. Well, Aunt Catherine's letters were nevertheless in 12 pages long, and more often they were 20. And if anybody happened to marry or die, well, I give you my word, that letter would go on as long as Pilgrim's progress. And everyone said that dear Ellen was the prettiest bride they ever saw and that the wedding cake was the finest they ever ate. It was store-bought. What's the matter, Dewey? Do we have to listen about an old wedding? Your Sister Martha's listening. Sure, she's a girl. Just because you aren't interested, Dewey, doesn't mean other people aren't. If your ma can take the trouble to read, you can take the trouble to listen. I'm listening, Paul. Well, that's all she says about the wedding, Dewey. Now I come to my really important news. Who died? Do we crave her? That's not nice talk. Paul, I'm sorry, Ma. Go on with the letter, Ma. I want to hear Aunt Catherine's news. Now I come to my really important news. We are going to have a Chautauqua in Belleville this summer. A Chautauqua? I don't know what a Chautauqua is. It's a big tent and they give shows in it. I ran about it. I want to go. Can we, can we? Dewey, don't want to hear what else your Aunt Catherine is. Oh, sure, you bet. What did she say? Now I come to my really important news. We are going to have a Chautauqua in Belleville this summer. Everyone says it will be the most wonderful thing ever, full of real culture. There's to be a famous opera singer and an Arabian magician. I want to see the magician. There will be a troupe of Alpine yodlers from the Swiss Alps. There will be scientific and comical lecturers. Circello's Italian band will play. And William Jennings Bryan is to speak. Well, all told, there will be three programs a day for seven whole days. It is something no one should miss. And Fred and I were wondering if you Cravers would like to visit us Chautauqua week. Could we, Pa? Could we? What would be wonderful? Can we, Pa? What? Traps off to town for a whole week just to see a lot of theatricals? Oh, this is cultural, Father. Aunt Catherine says so. Another thing, Nathan, the church approves of the Chautauqua. That don't sound like it was theatricals, does it? I ain't saying it's a bad thing. Only we've got a farm to look after. Oh, Grandpa on the hired hand can take your chores for the few days you're away. You know that. What about the cost? Oh, the cost is nothing at my sisters. What about all them singers and talkers? They've got to pay to see them. Well, Catherine says here that season tickets for all 21 programs cost $2.50. There's four of us. That'll be $10. Oh, that's too much for farmers. Oh, we don't have to have four. We could get two. And turn, turn, turn using them. That's what Catherine and Fred are doing. Still $5. It's a lot of money. Well, we owe it to the children, Nathan. And we owe it to ourselves, too. We get to forget how there's other things in the world but just growing things. You voted three times for Mr. Bryan as the president, didn't you? He's a great man. Wouldn't you like to hear Mr. Bryan talk? Yes. Yes, I would. Well, then let's go to the Chautauqua, Nathan. Well, seeing it's educational. Thanks, Pa. We're going to the Chautauqua. We're going to the Chautauqua. We're going to the Chautauqua. Folks growing up today with radios and photographs and television sets, don't know what it's like not to hear music. For that same reason, maybe folks today don't know what it's like to really hear music. Why, we go months and years even without hearing anything but the church choir or the village band. And then along would come the Chautauqua. And take my word for it. We really heard that music. Why, it was like rain after a long drought. And when Cirrus Solo stood up there in his red and old uniform, swinging his stick, making his men play, I knew right off that I wasn't going to be any mailman when I grew up. I was going to be a bandmaster. Sure do, Ma. Did you know I studied music when I was a girl? Did you, Ma? My teacher thought my voice was real good, too. She wanted me to keep studying. Why didn't you, Ma? Oh, well, you can't on a farm, especially with no piano. Why didn't Pa ever buy us a piano? Well, he would have if he could have, do we? Your Pa's real generous. You saw how he let you have his season ticket for the concert tonight. As long as Pa gets to hear Mr. William Jennings' Brian, I don't think he cares about anything else. That ain't true, do we? Your Pa likes music fine. Only you're young and it's educational. You should hear it now. And now, ladies and gentlemen, I have the honor of introducing the famous opera star. Can I give the season ticket to the man while he punches him? Just go to sing, do we, in French. Madame Caranini was a great artist. And I'm very glad I heard her sing. But she couldn't hold up any candle to the performer Pa and I saw in the big shit talk were 10th the next afternoon. I'm Abou Ben Ali, the sorcerer of the Sudan. I bring you now the mysteries of these. I have here the magic scarf once belonging to the Queen of Sheba. As you see, it conceals nothing. And yet, I wave it once. I wave it twice. I repeat the mystic words. Abadana! Look, Pa, he took a bowl of goldfish right out of the scarf. It's a trick, do we? Pa, when I grew up, I want to be a magician. The next night there was a scientific lecture. And after Abou Ben Ali's wonderful eastern mysteries, a lecture didn't sound very exciting. This was one time when none of us were particularly anxious to use the tickets, although we knew the two of us had to. All wouldn't stand for any part of the tickets being wasted. Well, we sat in Uncle Fred's kitchen, deciding who was to go. Well, if it's scientific, it's educational and education's for young folks. So Martha and Dewey should go. I've already seen one program today. Wouldn't you like to take Dewey, Pa? Can't. Your Uncle Fred's introducing me to a man who shook Brian's hand once. I want to shake the hand of any man who's done that. Well, who's going to use the tickets for Mr. Brian's here, Pa? Well, your father's going to use one, naturally. Oh, I know that. Mr. Brian's such a great man that we all should hear him. Today, I tried to buy two extra single seats for his speech. Oh, Pa! No luck. Everything sold out. Oh, and they say he's just wonderful, too. I bet he ain't as wonderful as Abou Ben Ali. Well, I wouldn't say that till you hear him Saturday if I was you, Dewey. Am I going to hear him speak, Pa? Well, your ma and I talked it out, Dewey. We decided that you're going to the speech with me. Because you're a man. Or will be, one of these days. And when you are, you'll have to vote. So you need to know all you can about Mr. Brian and men like him so you'll vote right and proper. Well, I'll do the best I can, Pa. Good. And now you and Martha are going to the science lecture. Getting on the starting time. But science isn't for ladies, Pa. Of course it is. Then why can't we vote? Well, that's not the same thing at all. Well, go on now, before you miss part of it. Here's the tickets. Be careful of them. Remember, you be careful of them. All right. Thanks, Pa. Come on, Dewey. Well, maybe it'll be interesting. All right. Goodbye. Goodbye. What is this lecture tonight, Nathan? Oh, it's a demonstration of something called moving pictures, whatever they are. More people here tonight than I thought there'd be. Can I give the man the tickets? You heard Pa tell me to be careful of them. I'll be careful. Kids lose everything. I ain't a kid. Oh, no. First tonight Pa said I was a man. He never said that about you. I should hope not. Oh, you know what I mean. I'm growing up, Pa, thanks. Gosh, if I'm old enough to hear William Jennings' Brian, I'm old enough not to lose some tickets. If I let you take them, will you stop talking, Dewey? Oh, thanks, Martha. Just give them to the man and he'll punch them. I know what to do. All right. Just make sure he punches them in the right place. Let me alone, William. Martha, I know what to do. All right. All right. I'll wait over here. Hey, Sonny. Take his place. Are you the ticket man? That's right, Sonny. Let's see your tickets. What about that man at the door? Oh, um, I'm helping him out today. Uh, punch him right there. Uh, we, uh, don't punch your tickets anymore. We take them in. But these are season tickets. We need them to hear Mr. Brian and everything. Oh, you get them back. When you come out of the lecture tonight, they're giving back to you. Why not right now? Well, my boy, I'll tell you, you're not the kind of a person that would do this, but quite a few people slip their tickets out under the tent and friends use them again. Ain't it awful how dishonest people again? Well, here are the tickets, Mr. I'll get them from you after the lecture. Yeah, don't worry. I'll keep an eye out for you. Well, we can go in now, Martha. I've settled everything. May I see your tickets, please? Huh? Oh, I gave them to a man outside. Season tickets. Oh, well, I'm afraid you've made a mistake. All tickets are punched here. Oh, he didn't punch him. He took them. What? Oh, well, you have made a mistake, Sonny. Season tickets aren't collected till the final program. Oh, he said it was a new regulation that he was helping you out. I'm afraid you've been horn-swoggled out of two perfectly good tickets. Whoever it was, he wasn't our ticket-taker. Oh, Dewey. Well, can't you find the man who got them, Mr? Well, he'll be gone by this time. It's a dodge, they work, if you're not careful. Dewey, now Pa won't be able to hear Mr. Bryan. Oh, Dewey, what'll Pa say to you? I'm wondering what I'll say to Pa. You are listening to Chautauqua Fable, starring William Powell as narrator and the father of Dewey Craver on The Cavalcade of America, sponsored by the DuPont Company. Makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Dewey Craver is telling the story of the visitors his family made to Belleville Chautauqua back in 1910 when Dewey was a boy of 11. I suppose you want to hear how I told Pa about the tickets being stolen, but you aren't going to. Even after 38 years with an experience in two wars and a big depression, I still don't like to dwell on that scene I had with Pa. Well, next morning, I went to see the sheriff. Mr. Sheriff, you've got to find the thief that took my father's tickets. Pa's got to get to hear Mr. Bryan tonight and it's sold out. Your Pa'll give you good hiding, did he? I wish he had. If he'd only lose his temper, it wouldn't be so bad. Oh, what's he do? He just looks at me like I was Beledict Donald or someone. Like I betrayed him and Mr. Bryan and the whole United States? Oh, no, no, no, no. Take it easy, son. Your Pa don't mean that. He does too. He says maybe I'll get old enough to vote, but I'll never get sense enough. Well, I wish I had a ticket of my own to give your Pa a son, but I ain't. I'll keep looking for this thief, but I wouldn't count on finding him. I'll go out to the Chautauqua grounds and look around some more for him. And if I find him, I'll... If I find him, you just tell an attendant. I will, Mr. Sheriff. And don't worry about growing up and not having sense enough to vote right. Lots of folks get along without that. Fine. So I went back to the Chautauqua grounds and looked everybody over. It was hopeless. Why, it was worse than looking for a needle in a haystack. Finally, I got really discouraged to wander down to the lake by myself. If I was to drown, I bet they'd miss me. I'd be sorry then, but he still wouldn't hear Mr. Brian. Boy! Boy! I looked up to see a man talking to me way off the other side of the lake. I say talking because he was. Talking to me from clear across the lake as easy as you and I talk in a parlor. He had the carringest voice I ever heard. I had to shout myself red-faced to answer him. Free city blocked, and I never raised my voice. Are you a swimmer? I can swim, son! Carring cattle is an abomination. The wind blew my head off in the lake, and I'm a lost man without it. Thank you, boys. Thank you. What is your name, young man? Dewey Craver. And what return can I make for this favor you've done me? Well, that's all right, Mr. Now about a bright new dime joy at the start of your future fortune. Oh, no, thank you. My par doesn't like me taking money just for doing things for folks. Your par sounds like a Christian gentleman, Dewey. He's a farmer. Oh, well, so was my par. Now if we hang this hat here in the sun, it ought to dry soon enough. Mr. When you were a boy, did you get along good with your par? Mostly I did, Dewey. Don't you? I always used to, but just yesterday I did something to par that I don't think he's ever going to get over. You want to tell me? Well, you see, my par thinks Mr. William Jennings Bryan is the greatest man in the world. Do you? Well, only now and then. He has the best appetite. I'll say that for him. Well, anyway, we came to the Chautauqua menu so par could hear Mr. Bryan speak. And now we can't, because I lost our season tickets. I got swindled out of them. Well, don't worry so much, Dewey. Things will work out. But how? Dewey, as a poem you ought to know, called to a water power, it ends up, he who from zone to zone guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight. In the long way that I must tread alone will lead my steps, a right. God looks after us, Dewey. You mean even after my tickets? Well, he brought you here to me, Dewey. And it just happens I can help you. How many in your family? My pa and ma and my sister Martha and me. All right, look. At eight o'clock tonight, you bring your family to the main entrance of the Chautauqua tent. Tell them your name is Joey Craver. There'll be four very good seats for you. But they're all sold out, Mr. I asked. Don't you believe me, Dewey? I don't know whether I should, Mr. But I do. You just kind of got a way of saying things. So I went home all happy and told Pa, thinking everything would be fine with us again. But he didn't believe a word I said. Honest pa ain't making it up. What complete stranger's going to give you four tickets for a lecture that's been sold out for weeks? I'm only telling you what the man told me, pa. Well, it don't make sense. Stranger things have happened, Nathan. And we owe it to Dewey to find out. He's never going to feel right till he evens up things with you. We've got to give him the chance. I don't think I ever loved my mother more than I did at that moment. So down we went at eight o'clock to the big tent. Goodness, what a crowd. It's hopeless. How are we telling you what the man said, pa? Well, all right. Here's the ticket, man. Go ahead, Dewey. Ask. Excuse me, are there four tickets here for Dewey Craver? No, there aren't, sonny. There aren't. Oh, Dewey. I'm sorry, pa. Well, that's all right, son. You've done your best. Oh, don't look so downcast, sonny. I haven't tickets for you. But if you follow this usher, we have a fine place for all of you to hear Mr. Bryan's lecture. Follow me, please. So we followed the usher inside the crowded tent. Then we followed right down the center aisle. Then we followed him right up some steps onto the platform where the mayor of Belleville and a lot of important people were sitting, and almost in the middle of the stage were four empty chairs, which the usher told us to take. And then before pa even had time to pinch himself, someone announced, Our speaker of the evening, Mr. William Jennings Bryan. Good morning. And what they think Mr. Bryan did Before he started to speak, he looked right over at me and smiled. You should have seen the look on pa's face. Then Mr. Bryan began to speak. I speak to you tonight on the Prince of Peace. And by the time he reached the end of his speech, Before thine mystic alter, heavenly truth, I kneel in manhood as I now renew. I knew just what I wanted to be when I grew up. Just let me kneel till this dull warm decay and life's last shade be brightened by thy wrath. I want to be a great man like William Jennings Bryan. I never got to be a great man though. I didn't even get to be mailman or bandmaster or a magician. I'm a farmer, same as pa was. And when folks want to make me feel real good, well, they tell me I'm like he was. I'm sure our radio listeners join the audience in the theater tonight applauding the performance of William Powell and the others in tonight's cast on the Cavalcade of America. Next week, Cavalcade presents the exciting Hollywood star Lucille Ball in Skylark's song. It's a dramatic portrayal of the brilliant American soprano Grace Moore, the girl from Jellico, Tennessee with spectacular triumphs in opera concerts and motion pictures constitute a sparkling American success. We invite you to join us. Tonight's DuPont Cavalcade was written by Frank Gabrielson. Music was composed by Arden Cornwell and conducted by Donald Bryan. William Powell appeared by arrangement with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, producers of Irving Berlin's Technicolor Musical, Easter Parade starring Judy Garland and Fred Astaire. Featured in tonight's Cavalcade William Powell was Donald Hastings as Dewey Craver, the boy. Agnes Young as the mother and Rosemary Rice as Martha. This is Ted Pearson inviting you to listen next week to Skylark's song starring Lucille Ball. Cavalcade of America is presented each week from the stage of the Longing Theater on Broadway in New York and is brought to you by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware.