The Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont. Luther Burbank is known as the plant wizard, although he himself never liked the phrase. Still it gives us an idea of the miracles he accomplished with flowers, fruits, and vegetables. Through selective culture, crossing and grafting of various stocks, Burbank produced many new and useful plants and improved many others. His methods required patient, conscientious work, work which went on day after day for more than 50 years. Burbank toiled with plants and fruits. Yet his perseverance, his ideals, and his objectives were not unlike those of modern research chemists. These men worked with nature's materials too, and by using them to create new products or improve those which already exist, they are working to provide for everyone, as DuPont expresses it, better things for better living through chemistry. Don Voorhees and the DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra bring us as an overture, Bubble Song, Float On, from Rudolph Brimel's operetta, High Jinx. The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra Luther Burbank was born in Lancaster, Massachusetts in 1849. From his early childhood, he showed a particular liking for flowers and plants. He attended public schools and later the Lancaster Academy. In the local library, he found books on plant and animal life, which fascinated him. He became a student of things that grow in the ground. One winter day when Burbank is 17, we find him walking through the woods with another young man. Luther, look, tracks in the snow. Maybe it's a fox. I don't think so. They look like other tracks to me. Sure, that's what they are. See where the back feet land together? Hey, let's trail them. Come on. The tracks don't look very fresh. Oh, they're plain enough. Come along, Luther. Let's see where he went. It's all right. It won't be hard. Now, where do we get to the top of this rise? There. You see? He went into that patch of brambles. Should we follow him? If you want to. We'll get all scratched up. No, we won't. We're careful. Easy now. All right, watch it. Here I am. Hey, where did the tracks go, Luther? I don't know. Say, look. What do you find? Let me see. Well, look at that. Green grass at this time of year. Yeah. Must be on account of this little spring. Why, it's sort of warm. Gee, it must come from a long way down on the earth. Feel it. Well, it isn't hot, but it is kind of warm. Golly, I never saw anything like it before, did you? No. I never saw green grass in the winter either. You know, it gives me an idea. Perhaps you could make things grow even in cold weather if you could keep them warm. Well, this grass is certainly green enough. I think I'll try it with some corn. I'll grow it in the house, and I'll have corn to eat them before anybody else. I'll plant the seeds in a box in the earth early in May, indoors, and by the time the shoots are big enough to keep in the house, it'll be warm enough outside to transplant them in the garden. I'll still have corn a month ahead of father. Gosh, it sounds like a swell idea, Luther. Hey, let's keep on tracking that rabbit. Rabbit? Oh, yes, you know, I'd forgotten all about him. Music Young Luther Burbank tried the experiment of planting corn indoors and proved that his idea was a good one. He continued experimentation with early planting of vegetables through the next four years. In 1807, when he was 21, he bought a farm of his own, a 17-acre tract of land near Lunenburg, Massachusetts, and here he began his life work of plant breeding. From his reading and his experiments, he had proved to himself that proper selection was the way to improve any plant strain. In 1870, the common New England potato was scrawny and poor tasting, but Burbank had hopes of improving it. We found a young man in his potato patch working with a farmhand. Yeah, bugs. It's a bad this time here, Mr. Burbank. Bugs? No. Perhaps they're just getting tired of the kind of potatoes we're raising. The potatoes we're raising this farm is as good as any. I wish we could grow better potatoes, though. See, Jim, look. Do you ever see one of these? Sure. Seen one quite a while ago. Seed ball. They're the plant growing the seed. They do that sometimes. I've seen pictures of them. This is the first one I've ever really seen. If you plant them there, see, you get potato plants. Same as when you plant the eyes. So have I, with bread. Hey, but look, Jim. Hmm? No two of these seeds are exactly alike. Hmm? They all look like to me. But they're all a little bit different. I could prove it to you if I had my magnifying glass. You'll see in a minute, then. I can see it just looking at them in my hand. Maybe you can, but what does it mean? Well, I believe that the plants and the potatoes will be as different as the seeds are. Some of the seeds may produce better potatoes. That's what I found out from working with other vegetables. Sounds like common sense to me. Like father, like son, that's the old saying. You know, we can grow a whole patch of good potatoes from just a few good ones. And a big field of good ones from the best ones out of the patch. Yeah, that's right, Mr. Burbank. That would give us enough to start a lot of other people growing them. People scattered all over the country. Eh, it'd be nice if we could give the world a better potato, wouldn't it, Jim? Sure would. Well, let's plant these seeds and see what happens, huh? Young Burbank's reasoning was sound, and he had an excellent idea. He planted the potato seeds, and from two of them grew a far superior brand of potato. There was a great market for them. Burbank might have become an extremely prosperous farmer, and from selling the new potatoes as seed, he might have built a profitable business. But business and money-making did not appeal to Luther Burbank. He developed the Burbank potato in 1872. Three years later, a stranger comes to visit him at the farmhouse at Lumenburg. Yeah, come in. Oh, huge, Jim. What's the reason for knocking? There's a gentleman come see you, Mr. Burbank. See me? Well, let him come in. All right. Mr. Burbank says for you to come in, sir. Thanks. Good day, Mr. Burbank. I'm glad to see you, sir. My name's Gregory. How are you, Mr. Gregory? I have a chair. Thank you. Well, you're a young man, aren't you? I wish I were younger. There's a whole lot I want to do. Well, most people don't get that idea until they're about my age. But I know you're busy, so I'll come right to the point. Mr. Burbank, I want to buy your new potato, the Burbank potato, as they call it. You want to buy my new potato? That's right. I thought perhaps you had heard of me. I come from Marblehead. Oh, of course. Your name's Walter Gregory. You own the big farms down there. That's right. I've heard of them. I should have recognized your name. I want to buy the exclusive right to raise the new potato you developed. I see. I'd hope that everyone would have a chance to benefit from my new potato. Well, they will in a way, everybody who eats them. But I'm talking about growing them. I want to do this thing on a big scale. Make every farmer in the country realize what this new potato is, so that he'll buy seed potatoes from me. That's the way to make a big thing out of it, Mr. Burbank. I suppose you're right. You bet I am. If you just go along as you are making the Burbank potato general property, it won't spread half so fast. You've got to tell people about a thing to make them want it. Well, I don't know much about selling things. I'm more interested in growing them. That's what I thought, and that's just why I came to see you. Now then, Mr. Burbank, how much money do you want for the exclusive rights to your new potato? Well, $150. $150? I see. Well, I'll think it over. Is it too much? You see, I want to go to California. I have three brothers there now, and from what they say in their letters, it's just the kind of climate and soil I'm looking for. Good many experiments I want to make. With plants, you mean? Of course. Vegetables and fruit. Things grow fast in California. You get results quicker. $150 would just about pay my way out there. Is it too much money for the new potato? Why, no, I think it's about right. Yes, I'll pay. Thank you, Mr. Gregory. Not at all, Mr. Burbank. As a matter of fact, I should thank you. So in 1875, Luther Burbank, then 26 years old, traveled to California. He established a small nursery where he continued his experiments with vegetables and fruits. He built a small but profitable business by the same means he had used in developing the Burbank potato, the process of selection. One day a fruit grower comes to see him, a man named Wells, who has done business with Burbank before. The two are talking in the small office of the Burbank nursery. I've got an idea, Burbank. What is it, Wells? I like to talk with people, we have ideas about this business we're in. Well, I'm thinking of trying a new line. It seems that the whole country is beginning to use more prunes, and I have a notion that the demand for them will keep on increasing. Now, maybe it's only a fad, but I don't think so, and I'm willing to gamble on it. Good prune is a fine thing. Delicious nourishing fruit when it's stood up. Yes, yes, but what I'm thinking about it is that people are willing to buy them, lot them. Now, I've got land enough to set out 20,000 young plum trees next spring for prunes. Where do you think you're going to get them? I don't know. Haven't you got that many? Why, there aren't that many in the whole state of California. There hasn't been much of a demand for prunes, you know. Well, there's going to be. Every grower I know of is trying to get trees. I was hoping you could help me out, but if you can't, you can't. I'd like to help you, Wells. I wish you could. Perhaps I can. Oh, can you? I'm not sure. You said you had an idea. Well, I haven't, but I may think of one. Give me a day to think about this. What day? Yeah, I always like 24 hours to think a thing over. Well, do you take as long as you like? If you can help me out, fine. And if you can't, Wells, I haven't lost it. Hmm, it's true. You won't lose anything. And perhaps I can help you win something. I hope so. And so do I. You give me a problem, Wells, and I'll try to solve it. The next day, Luther Burbank agreed to deliver to Mr. Wells in nine months' time 20,000 young plum trees. An idea had come to Burbank out of his nudge of plant life and his fertile imagination, an idea which helped to gain him the title of the Plant Wizard. As the first step in carrying out his promise of the impossible, he visits a neighboring nurseryman. Well, Burbank, how are you? Haven't seen you for quite a while. How's everything? Oh, pretty good. I came over today to see if you could fill an order. An order? I will if I can, you know that. What's on your mind? Well, mostly the 20,000 young trees that my men are beginning to plant today and seed. I hope most of them grow. They ought to, in selected seed. From what I know about you, I'd guess that every one of them would grow. But that isn't what you came to see me about, is it? No. I was thinking that you had more plum trees than any man around here. And next April, I'll be wanting some buds, quite a lot of them. Plum buds? Well, I don't know what you want them for, but I can let you have as many as you need. Twenty thousand of them? Twenty thousand? Well, that's a lot. But you can have them. I'll just snip all the buds off about a hundred trees. Better snip half the buds off about two hundred trees if you've got that many. Yes, I have, just about. It'll be healthier for the trees. And there's a demand for prunes right now, you know. That's right, but I don't see what you're going to do with 20,000 of the buds. Of course, it's none of my business. If my plan works out, it may mean a great deal to your business. Listen, Mr. Rebaker, I'm not trying to pry into your affairs, but has this order for 20,000 plum buds got anything to do with the 20,000 almond trees your men are planting? Well, I hope it has. The almond trees grown from seed came along in fine style, and the following April, the 20,000 plum buds were delivered according to Burbank's order. Burbank engaged a staff of experts to graft the plum buds onto the young almond trees. Grafting slips of fruit trees onto other fruit trees was not a new process. Apple and cherry trees, for instance, had been grafted for a great many years. The results were that two varieties of fruit grew on the same tree. But in grafting plum buds onto young almond trees, Burbank was doing an unusual thing. One day, sometime after the grafting operation had been finished, we find him talking with two of his gardeners in the almond orchard. Now, what do you think of them, Mr. Burbank, after your inspection? Well, some of them are coming along all right. Great idea of yours, planting the almond trees so you could graft the plum buds on them. That seemed like a good idea. Ammons are dirty stock. They sprout quickly. Something must be done. We're going to prove our experiment and deliver those plum trees. That's right, Mr. Brank. A lot of the trees don't seem to be given much nourishment to the plum buds. The grafting was well done, all of it. I know that. But look at this. Nice, healthy young almond tree, plenty of almond leaves. The plum bud is withering. Looks as though the ants want to keep all the food for themselves. We're not beaten yet. I'm going to try something. We're not going to let these almond trees have things all their own way. Well, how are you going to stop them? We're going to break the tops. Oh, but you can't do that. Without any leaves, the trees will die. That's right. They're bounded. They'll have their leaves. Have you ever seen a tree with a top broken by the wind and still living? Yes, but there's some connection between the roots and the leaves. And they will be here, too. We'll snap the tops of these little almond trees and leave them hanging. The leaves will serve their purpose, but there won't be too many sprouts at the top to wolf all the food. Then the plum buds will get some nourishment. I wonder if it'll work. I think it will. When the plum buds really get started growing, we'll starve the broken almond tops right out of the picture. That's what we want, sir. The young almond trees will become plum trees, and they'll produce plenty of good, healthy prunes. And we'll have proved something. Is that an order, Mr. Burbank, to break the tops of all these young almond trees? It is. Call them in together, and let's get started with the job. The DuPont Cavalcade DuPont Cavalcade moves forward. Months pass. Sun and rain do their part of the work. And one day, Mr. Wells, the man who wanted 20,000 plum trees, comes back to see Luther Burbank again. He steps up to the office door and knocks. Yeah, come in. Ah, good morning, sir. Good morning. Sit down a moment while I run through the rest of these reports. Oh, yes, yes, of course. There's no hurry. I've been waiting almost a year now. You've been? Oh, well, Mr. Wells. I'm sorry I didn't look up when you came in. I was so interested in the reports on those plum trees. My plum trees, Burbank? Oh, yes. You were the man who ordered them, weren't you? No, no, no. You know, I've been so interested in working out the experiment that I'd almost forgotten who wanted them. Well, now, I was hoping you'd have some for me. Those trees will make me a fortune if you've got enough of them. But a man for prunes is getting bigger every day. I want to buy every plum tree I can find. Well, you ordered 20,000 for me. That's right, nine months ago. How many can I have? Let's see. Here's the total. 19,000 and call it 19,500. Oh, now, wait a minute. Pardon me, Burbank, but I can't believe you. Well, that's strange. Most people believe what they want to believe. Tell me, Wells, do you know a plum tree when you see one? A plum tree that'll grow good prunes? Well, I ought to. All right, then. Look down the road. That way. You'll see a whole forest of plum trees, 12 inches high. They're all yours if you want them. Burbank, how can I ever thank you? Why, it's a miracle. No, not a miracle. Just the working out of a clavide ears. And, of course, nature did her share. The successful result of the experiment with the plum trees gave Luther Burbank another idea. It proved to him the advantages of growing trees and plants on a large scale. The more seeds he planted, the more good plants he could produce. And Burbank's uncanny instinct, his genius for selection, told him which were good and which were inferior. One sunny afternoon, he is working in his plum orchard with a crew of his men. This one? This one? Yes, sir. Save this one? Save this one? Yes, sir. This one? Take this out? Take that one? Excuse me, Mr. Burbank. Somebody calling you, sir. Calling me? Yes, sir. Who is it? Where is it? It's over there, sir. It's coming toward us. Why, it's the judge. Hello, Judge. How are you? Fine, thanks. Well, tell me, what in the world are you doing? I'm glad to see you. Glad to see you. Well, don't drive Doug to question. What are you doing, striding through your orchard? Oh, I'm just looking things over, picking out the good trees and marking them. That's what these little strips of white cloth are. I drop one on every tree I like. What about those men behind you? They are uprooting dozens of these little trees. That's why they're following me. Every tree that isn't marked with a white cloth is uprooted and burned. You mean to tell me that you're destroying more than half of these fine little plum trees? At least. You see, more than half of them aren't fine at all. Well, I've got an orchard of my own, you know, and it seems a shame to destroy all these trees. Well, the more inferior ones we destroy, the more room we'll have for the better ones. And the more nourishment the good ones will get from the soil. Do you think you can select the better trees jogging through this orchard, almost to trot, dropping strips of white cloth behind you? I know I can. Well, I don't see how you can tell. Well, Judge, I'll prove to you that my intuition is right. Now, you take home these five trees I've left to be uprooted and burnt, and plant them. Well, let's prove. Along with them, you take any five that I've marked for saving, plant and mark them. Five years from now, all ten of them will be bearing fruit. Compare the fruit from the different trees, and then you'll see that I was right. Well, I'll try it, but I still don't understand how you do it. Judge, when they bring a prisoner before you, can't you often tell by looking at him whether he's guilty or not? Why, yes. Well, I can do the same thing with trees and plants and seeds. From experience aided by some inner sense which must be called genius, Luther Burbank could distinguish better plants from inferior ones. He gave the world many new and useful varieties of vegetables, berries, and fruits. Among other creations he produced a rustless wheat, spineless cactus which cattle could eat, roses without thorns. He once said, I shall be content if because of me there shall be better fruit and fairer flowers. Truly he accomplished his aim in life. Dylpond is proud to add the name of Luther Burbank to the distinguished roster of the cavalcade of America. Last year chemistry saved the gardener and the farmer millions of dollars by helping pull the ravenous attack of several thousand different types of insect pests. Right now the boll weevil and cotton leaf worm are staging their annual destructive invasion of the south's cotton crop. But the chemist has found ways to protect the cotton and greatly reduce the growers' losses from insect pests. Dupont, for example, produces a chemical product called calcium arsenate which controls the boll weevil and leaf worm and permits healthy development of the cotton. In some cases such treatment has increased the yield three to four hundred pounds of seed cotton per acre. In the fruit growing sections of the country chemically created products are put to work every season, protecting first the foliage of the trees and then the fruit itself from damaging insect attack. A fruit orchard is the favorite dining room of the codling moth, the pest that appears as the worm in apples. A chemical insecticide, properly applied, controls the codling moth and gives the fruit a better chance to ripen normally. These are only two of many ways in which research chemistry helps protect plant life. Take the family garden in the backyard as another example. Many of the vegetable and flower seeds planted this spring were probably chemically treated to protect them from underground pest attack. And now that the plants are above the ground, chemistry is ready with a wide variety of products to guard them from hungry insects. A recent Dupont chemical development improves the effectiveness of insecticides too by helping them spread more fully over the foliage and stick to the plant longer despite wind and rain. Truly plant development experts have improved our fruits, vegetables, and flowers. But just as truly the research chemist has protected them from hungry hordes of insect pests and is improving his protective methods each year. Dupont has recently built a large new laboratory and increased its staff of chemists and biologists, working exclusively on pest control research, work which by still further reducing annual losses due to pest attack should result in better crops, wider markets, and lower costs. So when the cotton moves into the textile mills, when the truck gardener delivers fresh vegetables, when the fruit grower picks his crop and sends it on the way to your table, you know that the research chemist has again done his part to provide, as Dupont expresses it, better things for better living through chemistry. The story of Luther Burbank heard this evening brings to a close the series of dramatic type broadcasts Dupont has been presenting on its Cavalcade of America program. For the summer months we've prepared a series of musical broadcasts. This Wednesday Don Voorhees and the Dupont Cavalcade Orchestra will present songs of such outstanding contributors to our like music as George Gershwin, Cole Porter, Vincent Youmans, and Jerome Kern, with anecdotes describing how some of their songs came to be written. For the first four broadcasts we will have as our guest Conrad Thiebaud, distinguished radio baritone. All of us who take part in these programs and those who write and produce them appreciate the many letters we've had from you. For it's only when you take the trouble to write that we get the stimulation and lift which comes from direct applause in the theater. Such encouragement inclines us to feel that you'd like more Cavalcade of America dramatizations in the fall. Tune in at the same time next Wednesday evening for a program of Irving Berlin's melodies. Don Voorhees conducting the Cavalcade Orchestra, Conrad Thiebaud guest soloist, the first broadcast in Dupont's summer Cavalcade of Music series. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. Thank you.
