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The Apple Tree

Lady Esther Presents Orson Welles

The Apple Tree

Jan 12 1942



CAST:

HOST, Orson Welles

ANNOUNCER

LADY ESTHER

CBS ANNCR (1 line)

KNX ANNCR (1 line)


FRANK

STELLA, urban

ROBERT, collegiate

MEGAN, rural

AUNT (1 line)

NICK, young boy

RICK, young boy

JIM, the hired man

SALESWOMAN (1 line)

PHIL, collegiate




MUSIC: UNOBTRUSIVE ... ENTERS AT [X] AND ENDS AT ABOUT [Y]


HOST: Good evening. This is Orson Welles, [X] bringing you another radio show for Lady Esther. Tonight we're doing one of the outstanding stories of one of the outstanding writers of our time, "The Apple Tree," by John Galsworthy. Our special guest, and for us a very special guest indeed, is Miss Geraldine Fitzgerald. You all know her as a movie star. Perhaps you don't know her as a veteran of the Mercury. You don't, if you're not a New Yorker. Well, altogether it's not at all difficult for me to say nice things about her, but I want to make it clear that my critical opinion isn't influenced in the slightest by any feelings of friendship or loyalty. It's quite possible, you know, for one's good friends to be bad actors. [Y] Having said this, I want to add at once that my good friend Geraldine is a very fine actress indeed, and we're fortunate and happy to have her with us to play in Galsworthy's "The Apple Tree." 


MUSIC: WISTFUL INTRODUCTION ... THEN IN BG


FRANK: (NARRATES) For Stella's and my silver wedding anniversary, we'd motored to Torquay -- where we'd first met -- to celebrate. And Stella suggested that we take a lunch and drive out on the moor. 


STELLA: It will be so lovely there, Frank, and quite warm in the sun. I can do some sketching while you read. 


FRANK: (NARRATES) We drove several miles and stopped on a high hill with the view into the deep valley beyond. Stella wandered off somewhere to sketch and I stretched out in the sun and watched the sky and longed for I knew not what. There's no reason I should be unhappy, even mildly disturbed. My life had been pleasant and my marriage quite successful. As I lay there, it seemed to me there was something missing -- something that had nothing to do with pleasant lives or successful marriages. 


MUSIC: OUT


FRANK: (NARRATES) The familiar words of Hippolytus echoed in my mind: "The apple tree, the singing, and the gold." (CONTEMPLATIVE) The apple tree. 


MUSIC: RETURNS, IN BG


FRANK: (NARRATES) And quite suddenly, I remembered. I'd been here before -- years before. I'd stood on this self-same hill. I knew the valley into which I looked. That ribbon of road and the old wall behind. Life has moments of sheer beauty, of unbidden flying rapture -- but they last no longer than the span of a cloud's flight over the sun. I'd stumbled on just such a moment in my own life. I'd stumbled on a buried memory of wild, sweet time. 


MUSIC: OUT


FRANK: (NARRATES) It was after my first year at college. A friend of mine, Robert Garton, and I were making a walking tour of the country around Torquay. And my knee, which had been injured in a football game the year before, was giving me trouble and I knew I'd have to give up the tour. We were looking for a farmhouse somewhere where we could put up till I got better.


ROBERT: I don't think you ought to walk much farther. 


FRANK: Hm.


ROBERT: Why don't I go ahead and reconnoiter? Oh, I won't need to -- there's someone coming. 


FRANK: (NARRATES) It was a girl. The wind blew her crude little skirt against her legs and lifted her battered tam-o'-shanter. It was clear she was a country girl, for her shoes were split, and her hands were rough and brown, and her hair waved untidily across her forehead. But her lashes were long and dark, and her gray eyes were a wonder: dewey, as if opened for the first time that day.


SOUND: MEGAN'S STEPS APPROACH


MEGAN: Hello.


ROBERT: Could you tell us if there's a farm near here where we could spend the night? My friend's getting pretty lame.


MEGAN: There's our farm, sir.


FRANK: Could you put us up?


MEGAN: I'm sure my aunt would be glad to. If you like, I'll show you the way.


FRANK: We'd appreciate it very much.


MEGAN: It's nor very far, just down in the valley. Right through the apple orchard and we're there.


MUSIC: PASTORAL ... THEN IN BG--


FRANK: (NARRATES) Just through a narrow wood we came on the farm. A long, low stone-built house with casement windows and the farmyard, where pigs and fowls and an old mare were straying about, and in front an orchard of apple trees just breaking into flower. A woman stood by the door watching us as we approached.


MEGAN: This is Mrs. Narracombe, my aunt.


FRANK: We met your niece on the road. She said you might put us up.


AUNT: Well, I can, if you don't mind one room. Megan, get the spare room ready, and I'll fetch a bowl of cream. (MOVING OFF) The gentlemen will be wanting tea, I expect.


MUSIC: OUT


FRANK: (CALLS AFTER HER) Thank you, Mrs. Narracombe. (BEAT, REFLECTIVE) Huh. (TO MEGAN) By the way, we haven't been introduced.


MEGAN: No, sir.


FRANK: This is Robert Garton; I'm Frank Ashurst.


MEGAN: How do you do, sir?


FRANK: What's your name?


MEGAN: Megan David.


ROBERT: Are you a Devonshire girl?


MEGAN: Oh, no, sir, I'm from Wales.


FRANK: You're very young, aren't you?


MEGAN: I'm seventeen, sir.


ROBERT: How many of you live here?


MEGAN: There's my aunt and her two nephews, the boys you saw as you came. Nick and Rick they're called. Then there's old Jim, a hired man.


FRANK: Quite a family.


MEGAN: Yes, sir. (MOVING OFF) If there's anything else you want, you'll call.


FRANK: All right. (CALLS AFTER HER) Thank you.


ROBERT: Pretty thing, isn't she?


FRANK: (CHUCKLES) Yes. Like a flower. Like a wildflower you come upon unexpectedly in the woods.


ROBERT: Hmm. A bit poetic for me, but I see your point. I say, Frank, your knee's pretty

bad. What do you say I leave you here for a couple of days?


FRANK: Does hurt like the devil. What about you?


ROBERT: Oh, I have to get back to London, but I can get the train from Torquay. That is, if you don't mind being left alone.


FRANK: Matter of fact, I shall like it. Nothing to do but dream and watch spring on a farm. I've always wanted to do that.


ROBERT: Well, good luck to you. And look me up when you get to London. (LIGHTLY) And be careful of the wildflowers! (CHUCKLES)


MUSIC: FOR SPRING ON A FARM ... TRANSITION ... THEN BEHIND FRANK--


FRANK: (NARRATES) It was good to be left alone. They're glad to have me. Megan and her aunt worried about my lameness as if I had been one of the family. From the very first I'd felt that Megan liked me. She performed little kindnesses for me that weren't part of her duties, and as the days went by, I began to expect them, and when I awoke in the morning, the thought of her made me anxious to be up and downstairs. Even if I didn't talk with her, I liked to be near where I could hear her singing at her work. One day, I was down by the big apple tree and the two little boys, Nick and Rick, were playing there by the pool.


SOUND: POOL BACKGROUND (BIRDS CHIRP, SLOSH OF POOL WATER, ET CETERA)


NICK: (LAUGHS) Watch out, Rick! The gipsy bogle'll get you!


FRANK: (AMUSED) What do you mean by the gipsy bogle?


NICK: The gipsy bogle sets on that stone there, by the apple tree sometimes.


FRANK: Oh? The gipsy bogle. What's he look like?


RICK: Donno, never seen it. Megan says he sits there. 


FRANK: (CHUCKLES)


RICK: Megan's a-feared of him.


FRANK: Oh?


NICK: But she's not a-feared of you.


FRANK: No?


RICK: She says a prayer for you.


FRANK: How do you know that, you little rascal?


RICK: When I was asleep, she said, "God bless us all and Mr. Ashes'." I heared her whisperin'.


FRANK: You're a little ruffian to tell me what you hear, when you're not meant to hear it.


NICK: You see, Rick? I told you not to tell him!


FRANK: Ha, ha, ha, ha!


MEGAN: (CALLS, FROM OFF) Nick! Rick! Come here both of you!


FRANK: Here they are, Megan!


MEGAN: (APPROACHES) And I've been looking all over for the rascals. Go into the house at once! Auntie wants you. Go on with you!


NICK: Rick told 'im about the gipsy bogle.


FRANK: (CHUCKLES)


MEGAN: Go on now. No more nonsense out of you. 


NICK: (MOVING OFF) All right.


MEGAN: (BREATHES SELF-CONSCIOUSLY) Children are silly sometimes.


FRANK: I don't think so. They're often more sensible than grown-ups. Tell me, Megan, what's the gipsy bogle they're talking about?


MEGAN: (DEAD SERIOUS) He brings bad things. There are bogles in the rocks. They're men who lived long ago. There's one that comes here and sits on that rock.


FRANK: (LIGHTLY) Oh, I shall come down one night and sit on this rock, and then have a talk with him.


MEGAN: Oh, please, don't! Something will happen to you.


FRANK: Does it matter if anything happens to me, Megan? Would it disturb you a lot? (NO ANSWER) Well, I dare say I shan't see him, because I suppose I shall have to be off soon.


MEGAN: Oh, no!


FRANK: Would you like me to stay?


MEGAN: (WHISPERS) Yes. Very much.


FRANK: Then I will stay. (LIGHTLY) And tonight, Megan, I'm going to say a prayer for you.


MEGAN: You're laughing at me.


FRANK: Oh, no.


MEGAN: You're laughing at us, all of us!


FRANK: That's not true, Megan! Believe me, that's not true. 


MEGAN: I, er-- I--


FRANK: Wait, Megan. (ENTRANCED) Your hair. 


MUSIC: ROMANTIC, IN BG


FRANK: (LOVINGLY) Your hair. It's caught in the apple blossoms! Don't move, Megan! Oh, you're beautiful -- with these clusters of pink blossoms in your dark hair. Megan-- (THEY KISS)


MEGAN: (EXHALES)


FRANK: (LOW) Megan. You're very, very sweet, Megan.


MEGAN: (WHISPERS, PASSIONATELY) You, too.


FRANK: (BEAT) Megan, come here tonight, to the big apple tree, after they've gone to bed. Megan, promise.


MEGAN: I promise.


MUSIC: NO CHANGE OF MOOD, MERELY FILLS A PAUSE ... THEN BEHIND FRANK--


FRANK: (NARRATES) For a long time after Megan had fled away through the orchard, I stood there, under the apple tree. This was the beginning -- of what? She was so lovely, so unutterably lovely, and untouched. I felt somehow as if I'd beheld a miracle and it had transformed me. I walked on toward the wild meadow. Jim, the hired man, was out there.


SOUND: PASTORAL BACKGROUND (BIRDS CHIRP, ET CETERA) ... FRANK'S STEPS APPROACH


JIM: Good evening to ye, Mr. Ashurst.


FRANK: Evening, Jim.


JIM: Brave weather for the grass.


FRANK: Jim, tell me, you've seen the gipsy bogle, too, is that right? 


JIM: 'Twere in my mind as 'twas there, this evenin', a bit af' four.


FRANK: Oh? 


JIM: Ask Megan. If she were there, she seen him.


FRANK: Yes. Yes, she's sensitive. She feels everything.


JIM: She's very lovin'-'earted.


SOUND: PASTORAL BACKGROUND AND FRANK'S STEPS CONTINUE IN BG


FRANK: (NARRATES) Loving-hearted. Yes, that was it -- loving-hearted. What was I to do about this girl that loved me so, and whom I loved? I walked for a long time. In the orchard, I broke off a spray from the crabapple tree. The buds were like Megan: shell- pink, rose-pink, wild and fresh -- and the opening flowers, white, and wild, and touching.


MUSIC: FOR A GENTLE, FRAGILE CURTAIN ... THEN BEHIND ANNOUNCER--


ANNOUNCER: You are listening to Orson Welles and Geraldine Fitzgerald in "The Apple Tree." They will be back in just a moment to continue the story. But we have something we'd like you to hear first. It's about youth and beauty, and it's from one of our foremost authorities on those subjects, Lady Esther.


LADY ESTHER: Would you be surprised if I told you that the skin of your face can look two or three different ages? Well, it's true. Your skin may look a young eighteen or twenty on your cheeks, but around your eyes and mouth, across your forehead, it may look thirty or thirty-five. Now, a drawn, tired-looking skin and little lines due to dryness may not be signs of age at all. They may be -- in fact, they're very likely to be -- an indication that something is wrong with your method of skin care. Perhaps the face cream you use doesn't agree with your skin, or maybe your skin is a little sick, a little upset from too many different kinds of beauty preparations. That often happens, you know. A too-rich diet is as bad for your skin as it is for your stomach. So if you're not happy about the condition of your skin -- if you have little lines around your eyes and mouth, if you have blackheads and big pores -- try the modern, simplified method of skin care. Not a lot of different preparations that may work against each other, but just one cream: Lady Esther Four-Purpose Face Cream. You see, Lady Esther Face Cream takes care of four important needs of your skin. First, it cleanses your skin. Second, it softens your skin. Third, it helps nature refine the pores. And fourth, it leaves a perfect, non-sticky base for powder and makeup. So if you want to be as modern in your skin care as you are in everything else, get a jar of my face cream. See for yourself why more and more women are turning to Lady Esther Four-Purpose Face Cream every day.


MUSIC: FOR A MOONLIT RENDEZVOUS ... THEN IN BG


ANNOUNCER: Orson Welles and Geraldine Fitzgerald now continue tonight's story, "The Apple Tree."


FRANK: (NARRATES) She kept her promise.  


SOUND: MEGAN'S HURRIED STEPS ON GRASS TO FRANK


FRANK: (NARRATES) Megan met me under the apple tree that night. She came straight toward me and into my arms, and our lips sought each other and we stood there together for a long time in the moonlight. (PAUSE, WHISPERS) Megan? Megan, why did you come?


MEGAN: Sir, you asked me to.


FRANK: (AMUSED) Megan, dear, don't call me "sir."


MEGAN: What should I be calling you?


FRANK: Frank!


MEGAN: Oh, I couldn't.


FRANK: But you love me, don't you?


MEGAN: I couldn't help loving you and I want to be with you -- that's all.


FRANK: All?


MEGAN: I shall die if I can't be with you.


FRANK: You shall be with me forever, Megan. We'll go to London. I'll show you the world.


MEGAN: I don't care where we go. If I can be with you, that is all.


FRANK: Tomorrow, dear, I'll go to Torquay and get some money and get you some clothes that won't be noticed, and when we get to London, if you love me well enough, we'll be married.


MEGAN: Oh, no, I couldn't. I only want to be with you.


FRANK: Oh, Megan. (CHUCKLES) I'm not nearly good enough for you. Tell me, when did you begin to love me?


MUSIC: OUT


MEGAN: When I saw you in the road, and you looked at me. The first night I loved you, but I never thought you'd want me.


FRANK: (WHISPERS PASSIONATELY) Oh, my darling. My darling.


MUSIC: AN ACCENT ... FOR THE SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF THE GIPSY BOGLE ... THEN UNEASY IN BG


MEGAN: (SCARED) Oh, look! Look, the gipsy bogle!


FRANK: (AMUSED) Where? I don't see anything.


MEGAN: There! Sitting on the rock under the tree!


FRANK: Megan, there's nothing there, only the moonlight on the rock.


MEGAN: I saw him. And I'm afraid. It's a bad sign. I must go in.


FRANK: Darling, Megan, there's nothing there. There's no gipsy bogle. It's only your imagination.


MEGAN: You don't see the bogles, but I see them. And I know. Good night.


SOUND: MEGAN'S HURRIED STEPS AWAY


FRANK: (CALLS AFTER HER) Megan! Megan!


MUSIC: OUT WITH--


SOUND: CLICK! OF THE GATE


FRANK: (NARRATES) I heard the gate click and I knew she'd gone. Instead of her, only this old apple tree and the scent of the woods -- a little part of her --and, above me and around, the blossoms, more living,

more moonlit than ever. They seemed to glow and breathe.


MUSIC: FOR THE NEXT MORNING ... THEN IN BG


FRANK: (NARRATES) Next morning I left early and went to Torquay. Wanted to get some money and I had to cash a check, but I found that without credentials I'd have to wait till they wired the London bank for verification. While I waited for the answer, I shopped for a dress for Megan.


SALESWOMAN: Here's something, sir. It's very smart, really, and should just suit the girl you describe.


FRANK: (NARRATES) But the more I looked at all those smart, modish dresses, the less they seemed suited to Megan. It was incredible that Megan, my Megan, could ever be dressed in anything except the rough tweed skirt and the battered tam-o'-shanter I'd always seen her wear. I couldn't make up my mind and, yet, she couldn't wear her old clothes in London; they wouldn't suit her there. 


MUSIC: DURING ABOVE, OUT GENTLY


SOUND: CITY STREET BACKGROUND (HORSE-DRAWN VEHICLES, ET CETERA)


FRANK: (NARRATES) Couldn't make up my mind, as I walked the streets of Torquay, confused and undecided--


PHIL: Well! Frank Ashurst!


FRANK: Phil Halliday! This is a surprise.


PHIL: Well, I haven't seen you since rugby. 


FRANK: (CHUCKLES) No.


PHIL: What are you doing down here in Torquay?


FRANK: Oh, I'm just looking around, waiting for my bank to wire back confirmation of my signature so I can get some money.


PHIL: Oh, if you're not lunching anywhere, come with me. I'm here with my sister Stella. You'll come?


FRANK: I - I haven't any good reason for refusing, Phil.


PHIL: That's splendid! We'll have a lot to talk about. And Stella will be pleased. Been pretty lonely for her with nobody but an older brother for company. Come along, old boy.


MUSIC: PERKY TRANSITION ... FOR A LONG LUNCH IN THE CITY


SOUND: CLATTER OF DISHES AND UTENSILS


FRANK: (AMUSED, LIGHTLY) Great Scott! I'd completely forgotten the time. It's after three; the bank's closed.


PHIL: That's great! That means you'll have to stay over in Torquay. You can't get any money today.


FRANK: (CHUCKLES, THEN REALIZES) Oh, but I - I can't.


STELLA: We should love to have you. I know Phil's getting bored to death with me and we've had such fun.


FRANK: (CONCEDES) Yes, it has been fun. You know, I've been rustic for so long, I'd almost forgotten how pleasant London talk was.


STELLA: Why don't you come shrimping with us tomorrow?


PHIL: Yes! You like to swim.


FRANK: Well--


PHIL: And you'll only have to come back tomorrow to cash your check.


FRANK: Yes, that's true. Hadn't thought of that. Very well, I'll stay.


PHIL: That's great! We'll make a day of it tomorrow.


MUSIC: ANOTHER PERKY TRANSITION ... THEN BEHIND FRANK--


FRANK: (NARRATES) I sent a wire to Mrs. Narracombe. I hoped that Megan would understand just this one day away from her wouldn't matter. It was the life that I'd always known -- gay, cheerful, normal people.


MUSIC: OUT


FRANK: (NARRATES) Just a few more hours of their life before I left it altogether didn't seem a wrong thing to do. Stella was a pretty thing. Curious the calm way she looked at me, as if she understood everything and would never question too deeply.


MUSIC: GENTLE TRANSITION ... THEN IN BG


FRANK: (NARRATES) But that night I couldn't sleep. I thought of Megan. I was with her again, under the living, breathing whiteness of the blossoms -- the moonlight on her upturned face of innocence and humble passion. Megan, poor little trusting Megan. How much did I really love her? How much was madness in the spring and the wild beauty of her? I thought of Stella -- cool, poised, and friendly. She belonged to the world I knew and understood, the world that understood me. Megan didn't understand and she could never belong. She loved me, but was that enough for either of us? I didn't know what to do. 


MUSIC: CHANGES TONE, MORE MELANCHOLY ... CONTINUES IN BG


FRANK: (NARRATES) Phil and Stella had asked me to go with them to Totnes for a picnic. I hadn't given them a definite answer, nor did I send any further wire to Mrs. Narracombe. Today I - I had to decide. I knew that. I went out for a walk along the cliff wall. 


SOUND: CRASH OF WAVES AGAINST THE CLIFF WALL, IN BG


FRANK: (NARRATES) There was a high sea running. There weren't any people about. I'd walked a mile or so, I guess, before I saw her. There she was, Megan in her old skirt and jacket and tam-o'-shanter. She was looking for me; I knew that at once. She'd look up into the faces of the passersby -- wavering, lost-looking, and pitiful. I followed her for a long way. Once, she stopped and leaned against the sea wall. I wanted her again. I wanted her kisses, her abandonment, all her quick, warm, pagan emotion -- and the wonderful feeling of that night under the moonlit apple tree. But I couldn't move toward her. I couldn't let her know I was there. For suddenly I realized that to go back to the farm and love Megan out in the woods, among the rocks, with everything around wild and fitting -- that was what I wanted and that was impossible. But to transplant her to the town, to keep her in some little flat, and when the wild ecstasy wore off, to find her commonplace, unable to fit into my world, and no longer able to go back to her own -- that was worse, far worse. I took another long, last look at that pathetic, wistful figure, staring out over the sea. Goodbye, Megan. Goodbye, my darling. (WHISPERS) Goodbye.


MUSIC: OUT WITH--


SOUND: WAVES UP AND OUT


FRANK: (NARRATES) Three days later I went back to London, traveling with the Hallidays. On the last day of April in the following year, Stella and I were married. All this I remembered as I sat there on the hill in the warm sun. As I remembered, an ache for a lost youth, a hankering, and a sense of wasted love and sweetness. The sun no longer warm, I got up and walked a ways down the road. There was a man standing by what I saw was a grave, an old man. The grave was by the crossroads and there was a moorstone to the west. On it, someone had thrown a blackthorn spray, handful of bluebells.


JIM: (NOW VERY OLD) Good afternoon to ye, sir. A nice day for a walk.


FRANK: Can you tell me whose grave this is?


JIM: Well, now, that'd be quite a story. 'Twere a poor soul that killed herself. 'Twere a long time ago. She were a pretty girl, but too loving-'earted.


FRANK: Too loving-hearted.


JIM: I were working for Mrs. Narracombe in them days an' she were, too. 


FRANK: (RECOGNIZES HIM AS JIM) Oh--


JIM: There were a college gentleman stayin' with us. She took a fancy to 'im. He were a nice feller, too. Then one day, he went away, sudden-like, and did never come back. After that, she were cryin' a lot. And then one day I found her. She were a-lyin' in a pool by the old apple tree, by the stone where the gipsy bogle sat. 


FRANK: (EXHALES)


JIM: (BEAT) 'Twere June then, but she'd found a little bit o' apple blossom and stuck it in her hair.


SOUND: PAUSE ... THEN WIND BLOWS, IN BG


FRANK: (NARRATES) I walked away. I'd heard enough. On the top of the hill, I lay down and buried my face in my hands. Megan's face brushed close. Megan, with the sprig of apple blossoms in her dark wet hair. 


MEGAN: (FILTERED, WHISPERS, PASSIONATE AND GHOSTLY) If I can be with you, that is all.


SOUND: UP ... WIND BLOWS HEAVILY FOR TRANSITION ... THEN IN BG ... STELLA'S STEPS APPROACH


STELLA: Oh, there you are, Frank. Look at my sketch. It's pretty, don't you think?


SOUND: WIND DIES OUT


FRANK: Yes, very pretty.


STELLA: Still, there's something wanting, isn't there?


FRANK: Yes. (NARRATES) Yes, there was something wanting. "The apple tree, the singing, and the gold."


MUSIC: CURTAIN


HOST: That was John Galsworthy's "The Apple Tree." Miss Geraldine Fitzgerald played Megan, and, uh, your obedient servant was Frank. Now, I'd like to tell you about a letter I received a few days ago, but, before I do, here's a word from Lady Esther. 


LADY ESTHER: Do you know there are danger zones of your skin? Danger zones where blackheads get their start, where pore openings become enlarged? Where are these danger zones? In the curve next to your nose, in the tiny valleys around your mouth and chin, next to your eyes, across your forehead. You may not notice the first little blackhead, the first big pore, but soon they multiply and there are more and more until, the first thing you know, your skin looks dull and blemished. So guard the danger zones. Don't let dirt settle in your skin, in the mouths of your pores. Use Lady Esther Four-Purpose Face Cream and use it generously. For my cream works right with nature, helps nature. Every time you use it, here's what it does: First, it thoroughly cleanses your skin; second, it softens your skin and relieves dryness; third, it helps nature refine the pores; and fourth, it leaves a perfect, non-sticky base for your powder and makeup. So change to this new, simplified method of skin care. Say goodbye to all other creams and lotions and start using Lady Esther Four-Purpose Face Cream!


MUSIC: GENTLE TRANSITION ... OUT BEHIND--


HOST: Several days ago, I got a letter from a lady commenting on one of our shows. It was a nice letter, but the postscript was the really interesting part. She remarked that, because of something I said, she'd bought a defense bond. Now, I don't presume for a minute that my recommendation in financial matters means anything, but when we speak of defense bonds and stamps, I think we all know what we're talking about. We're talking about protecting liberties we have and want to hold. We're talking about preserving decency in a world perched on the brink of mad brutality. We're talking about guarding a proud tradition of friendliness between all men. All these things make for good talk, but, more than that, they make for good action. And, since we all know this, too, by next week we'll have bought many more bonds and stamps. Until then -- until a lot more defense bonds and stamps, till next week -- Lady Esther and all of us in the Mercury Theatre remain, as always, obediently yours. 


MUSIC: CLOSING THEME (FROM TCHAIKOVSKY'S PIANO CONCERTO NO. 1) ... THEN BEHIND ANNOUNCER--


CBS ANNCR: This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. 


KNX ANNCR: KNX, Columbia Square, Los Angeles.

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