The Voice of America presents the Halls of Ivy, starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. Renita Coleman inviting you to join us again on the campus of Ivy College. The USA. For the past week administrative chores have been delegated as much as possible, because President William Townhunter Hall and his wife Victoria have been and are deeply involved with a benefit theatrical production for the undergraduate Ivy players, written, acted and presented by the staff and known as the faculty follies. This is the first rehearsal day and the Halls are waiting for Sidney Mullins, manager of the student players, to arrive at the progress report. Dr. Hall is saying, And I find it very stimulating. Whether it is the variation from my usual routine or the excitement of a theatrical production, I don't know, but I find myself thinking much too little of budgets, endowments and curriculums and much too much of costume, scenery, and how does one do an autobuffalo. And by the way, what is an autobuffalo? This is sort of a sideways down step that takes you off stage, darling, but you won't have to do it.  Yes, but suppose there is no applause, thunderous or otherwise. What do I do then, blush and hide under the piano? Oh, you're much too modest, darling.  What I'm worried about is Mr. Wellman. Mr. Wellman? Well, yes. He says he's going to keep us from putting the show on. How do you suppose he intends to do it? Oh, my love, I haven't the hardy-hood to follow a thought through the devious convolutions of the Wellman mind. The way is badly lighted, damp with tears never shed, and pitted with the graves of kindly deeds struck down in their youth. Maybe intends to set the board of governors against us, and what will you do about that? Oh, I've already done it. I have pulled the members separately and collectively. I sold each of them a block of tickets, thus putting them in the position of protecting an investment. Not really, darling. I'm just resourceful and genius, clever, alert, kind, for babysitting, dog-walking, and instruction on the mandates. Governors were keeping them from participating in the show. You mean as entertainers? I don't mean that, but they did. I had no idea there was so much talent flying around loose. I use the word talent loosely. It seems that our governing board, numbers among its members, two Zither players, one silhouette cutter, four baritones of the Nelson Eddy or give-a-man-a-horse-he-can-ride type, one latter-day Houdini who specializes in removing his vest without taking off his coat. No contortionists. Oh, they were all contortionists. What? Well, you should have seen them bending over backwards to be polite and bowing me out at the same time. Oh, yes. Sounds like quite a trick. And we mustn't forget that old juggler, Mr. Wellman, keeps everybody up in the air at once, and I wish I knew what he wrote. Well, that must be our junior impresario, Sidney Mullin. Yeah, I'll let him in. Well, I hope he's lined up a better brand of talent among our professors. Hello, Sidney. Come right in. Hiya, Mrs. Hall. I hope you ate your crunchy wunchies this morning. You'll need your strength when you hear Professor Heeslip make a bum out of Shakespeare. Hello, Dr. Hall. Hello, Sidney. I gather you think, Professor, Heeslip lacks a certain something as a Shakespearean actor. Oh, he's not too bad. Which is my first falsehood today. Well, Shakespeare was superstitious. He made it 12th night because he was afraid Professor Heeslip would play it on the 13th. Well, let's not be harsh. Except for you, Victoria, we are all amateurs. Well, except for Sidney here, too. He says when he was a little boy in the theatre, he didn't have a chance to play baseball. So the Chinese acrobats used to toss him back and forth with their feet. It was a great childhood, believe me. I was 18 before I knew drop the handkerchief was a game. Yeah, I thought it was just something the pretty girl in the Spangles did before she climbed up on the trapeze. Well, you want to hear how things are lined up, Dr. Hall? Oh, yes, I would indeed. They tell me the tickets are selling rapidly, that we have cornered all the available faculty talent, and the production seems to be well in hand. You've just given me my own report, sir. The talent is solid. Except for Ham Slip. I mean, he Slip.  I would suggest, Sidney, that we remember that the participants in this production are all volunteers, giving freely of their time and talents, and that we should accord them all the courtesy and consideration to them. Oh, sorry, Dr. Hall. I almost forgot an old theatre tradition. Never wrap a fellow performer except one necessary, and then try to remember why it is necessary. Now then, Mullins' report. The meeting is called to order. The band is rehearsing like crazy. The sets are ready, and we got a good show laid out in routine. Professor Dillard of the Chemistry Department, Magic Act, Kent in mathematics, a chalk talk, Dr. Hall's secretary, Goodson, knife-throwing, and... Knife-throwing. For heavens' sake. And to think of the times I've turned my back to her after correcting her punctuation. Simplifies our work. I mean, she can pin up your speeches on the wall and cut 2,000 words out of them across the room. Well, what else, Sidney? Well, then we've got you, Dr. Hall, doing the three-blind mice, Ola Kippling, and Mrs. Hall singing Alice's house, and every ten minutes, some new talent jumps out from behind the blackboard. Only one hitch. No MC. Can't you master the ceremonies yourself, Sidney? Yes, sir. But I think it would be better to keep it a faculty show. Well, how about you, Mrs. Hall? Well, I'm going to sing, Sidney. You better get somebody who's nothing else to do. Well, well, we'll work it out, said he, doubting it very much. Now, then, most of the professors have classes this afternoon, but we can go over to the auditorium now and run through your numbers, huh? My car is outside. If you don't mind walking the last part, because half a mile is asking a lot of it. So it's had been... Had been what, dear? Mrs. Hall, how's about trying your song now, huh? No, you're fine. I'm ready. Oh, good, good. Okay, everybody, quiet, please. We're going to run over Mrs. Hall's number, Alice's house. Hank, how about an introduction, and keep it bouncing in place? Okay, folks, okay. Break it up, break it up. No more rehearsals. It shows up. Everybody go home. Why, Officer Grogan? What do you mean, no more rehearsal, Grogan? We just started. Mrs. Hall, far be it from a mere cop to dispute the president's wife, but you're just finished. You've got to break it up. Whose orders, Grogan? The Fire Commissioner, of which... I mean, of home... Which is it, Doc? I think you mean home, of whom, what? Of home, what, Mr. Clarence? Mr. Clarence is held on a violation 542, 756, 23, and on 39 of Section B. Not an effect, it's stage doors opening inward instead of outward, smoking on stage, untested extinguishers, and no firemen requested to stand by during rehearsals. I'm sorry, but I got my orders. Well, Grogan, you, an old voodoo performer, I thought you loved the theater. I do, ma'am, and I also love to eat. To eat, I gotta work. To work, I gotta pay orders. I got orders to close up the show, so QED, as the saying goes, Grogan follows orders. But, Grogan, we can fill the extinguishers, we can change the doors, we can get a fireman to stand by, we can enforce the no smoking ordinance on the stage. Yeah, we can hang Mr. Wellman up by his thumbs. Excuse me, folks. Yes, Sidney. Grogan, not of McGillicuddy and Grogan, old-time songs and new stolen jokes. The same kid, but the title was Grogan and McGillicuddy, just to correct you. Played, we played it a certain time. Uncle Francis! Uncle Francis. Don't you remember me? Little Sidney Mullins, the four flying Mullins, Roscoe, Mamie, Biggie, and Flip. And me, Little Sidney. When I was only a year old, you used to sneak back to the dressing room and feed me. Barbecued pork and strawberry pop. Thunderbird will died. Little Sidney Mullins. Well, it certainly is a small one. Hey, your old man owes me a buck for long. He told me, Uncle Francis. He told me, if I ever saw you, that I... Here. Here's the dollar. And, say, remember the soft shoe you used to do? This one? Look, kid, look, look. It's no use playing on my sentiment. I get orders to close the show. You mean you remember that old number? Could anyone ever forget it? Hey, cut it out, cut it out now. Look, I'm Grogan a cop. I got orders. What was the show? Yes, but, Grogan, you, as an administrative officer on this campus, you are qualified to participate. Your talent, we need you. Please, Uncle Francis. Oh, wait a minute. Hey. This clamorous wellman, now, uh... He couldn't be the wellman of wellmen and fish knows it had to train sea like. I'm sure this Mr. Wellman was never in show business. In fact, he obviously disliked show business and show people. Oh, he does, does he? Hey, Sidney. Give me that lead in again.  Why didn't you come in? I didn't know where you lived. What's the matter? It's a soft shoe, Uncle Francis, a soft shoe. You can't do it in those shoes. Uh, yeah, I guess you're right. These is cop shoes. Uh, these shoes are good on debate, but debate ain't right for these shoes. Are you all soft shoes? Don't nobody go away now. And a bath till I get back. Get it good. Okay. How about it, Mrs. Hall?  Always ready, Sidney. Don't have a hat called. Well, they used to call me. Yes, we better get on with it before Mr. Wellman realizes we have captured his emissary and pays us a personal visit. Okay, Doctor Hall. Okay, boys, okay. Fiddles under chins. Knuckles on the press. Ready for Mrs. Hall's number. Now, let's have a little quiet among the lounges, please. And stage hands. Lay off the poker playing a while. Cus' alley sees out, sees like. Cus' alley sees alley sees out. Cus' alley sees out, sees like. Cus' alley sees alley sees out. Soft shoe routine, Mr. Wellman. Who are you, young man? Mr. Mullins, Mr. Wellman. Afternoon, sir.  We're just going to try Doctor Hall's number. No, you can't get me a chair. And neither is anyone else. I said I was going to stop this, and by... Where did you say Grogan went? Home to practice out, Mr. Wellman. He's in the show. You were so thoughtful to think you're sending him over. I didn't send him over to join the show. I sent him over to stop it. Well, yes, Mr. Wellman, he did.  This is treason. This is an outbreak. When I sent Grogan over here to close up the show, he should have done it. Now I'll have... I'll be out here sooner, sir. I couldn't quiet him down like that. Exactly what is your objection to this production? I think it's a degrading spectacle, undermining the dignity of this college and making a laughingstock of our institution with this, this, uh, poultrunary. Uh, I... I think the word you want is buffoonery, Mr. Wellman. Uh, poultrun is a man who raises poultery. No, no, it's in the appoultrun's collard. Oh, he raises cows. Oh, I guess I... I am here to see that Ivy College has made a marker. Not made, you know, if that is. I mean that we must not lower our standards to such a... What is it, Dr. Hall? I didn't say anything, Mr. Wellman. But I'd like to. I understand that your principal objection to this fundraising project, the faculty follows, is that it lacks dignity. Precisely. Then, if we could inject the right note of austerity of quiet rectitude of elegance and restraint, you might withdraw your objection. Certainly, Bob, but you can't do it. How could you do it? With you, Mr. Wellman. Huh? Look, sir, look. What we need in this fish fry is an emcee. Who's frying fish for what? Mr.  With charm. With sparkle and wits. In short, Mr. Wellman, you. You mean just because I have achieved a certain modicum of success as a speaker that I join you? Me? Dignity, Mr. Wellman. We need it. You have it. So can we get it? This is certainly not what I came for. I mean, what is the purpose of this business? Oh, it's a worthy one, Mr. Wellman. We are raising money so that the undergraduate Ivy players can afford to travel and compete dramatically with other colleges. It means a great deal to the college publicity-wise, as well as for morale and possibly for future endowments from those who recognize the interest we take in dramatic subjects. Endowments? Yes. Obesity, morale. Why didn't someone tell me what? I mean, well, let it never be said that Clarence Wellman never overlooked a possible endowment. Even a barely possible endowment. Well, what does an emcee do when a thing like this? Well, if an emcee comes out and brings the axe on, you see he can win. Let me tell him, please. Look, Mr. Wellman. Yes, millions? Mullins, sir. The endowments will be later, Mr. Wellman. For this production, sir, all you have to do is stand at the side of the proscenium. That's over there.  Oh, hmm, yeah. And introduce the axe with your natural dignity and with a touch of humor, perhaps, just as though you were talking to your stockholders. Stockholders don't like humor, duckholders. They see you're smiling. They think you're being tricky. Let them see tears in your eyes, and then they don't worry about watering the stock. Say, I'll try to remember that. That's exactly what we mean, Mr. Wellman. Look, let's try this precise. We're just going to run through Dr. Hall's number. You introduce it. Of course you'll have ample opportunity to write your own material, Mr. Wellman. I need to write it. I think on my feet. What are you going to do? Three blind mice as Kipling would have written it. You're on, Mr. Wellman. Ladies and gentlemen, it was from the great budget Kipling we learned about India. Through him, we know how the people of Calcutta dress, how the people of Bombay eat, and how the people of Burma shave. The familiar story of the three William Todd Hunter Hall, as Kipling might have written it. Take it. Mousetrope. I mean Mousetrope. As it's known from Madras to Cornpore, had to syringe a patam from Simla to Chanderagore, the kin of the three blind mice, and the sin and the price, the three and blind of Mohammed Din's wife, golden-skinned daughter of iron, white to a farmer, a man of the hills, where the kiber leads down to Lahore, and the slithering stride of the bitten snow slide is drowned in the bullet train's roar, for the shuddering grass darkling the thickets amid, where the jungle old rolls fold on fold to hide the wrong she did. She who was wife to the man of the hills, carving knife curving and keen left three mice and blind three pitiful stumps to show where their tails had been. They tell it in Manderlay, visible thing of the three blind mice and the sin and the price. Production gave me the inspiration I needed. Mr. Wellman for a man to come on cold turkey and hit one into the bleachers with sock yocks like that is not only one for the book, but two for the money and three for the show. This crambake is 10,000 crams ahead as of five minutes ago. Well, thank you, young man, for the compliment. I take it that was a compliment. I didn't quite understand. Oh, tickets. Tickets? Yes, tickets. M.C. of this show, I want some tickets. Family, friends, etc. Gee. What's the matter? The tickets. There aren't any, Mr. Wellman. I'm afraid we're sold out for the entire three days. Then put it on another three days. My goodness, hasn't anyone around here any imagination initiative? Well, local, let's print a lot of posters. Plash to the town. Throw some hand-builds around. Run it two weeks if we have to. They're in another thing. I think if the friddles were moved around the saxophones, then let's have some more hand-builds here. This production of The Halls of Ivy was broadcast with an actual audience present in the studio.