The DuPont Cavalcade of America, starring Ida Lupino. Tonight, the DuPont Company brings you Kitchen Scientist, starring Ida Lupino on the Cavalcade of America. First, here is Gain Whitman. Good evening. Today, a new chemical discovery, Antu, helps in destroying rats wherever they are a menace. Antu offers effective control over the common Norway rat. Many leading brands of rat poisons on sale at dealers now contain DuPont Antu. The next time you buy rat poison, ask for Antu. Remember, it is a poison, so read the directions carefully before using. Antu is another of the DuPont Company's better things for better living through chemistry. And now Kitchen Scientist, starring Ida Lupino as Fanny Farmer on the Cavalcade of America. And really, Mrs. Farmer, it was shocking. Just how do you mean that, Emma? She danced the polka. Isn't that true, Jane? Yes, Emma. And I think you might speak to Fanny, Mrs. Farmer. About dancing the polka? That and other things. Isn't that true, Jane? Yes, Emma. Emma, Jane, my daughter is a lovely young girl. She likes to dance. She likes to have a good time. As for the other things you mentioned, what are they? Well, Mrs. Farmer, we came here only in Fanny's business. I'll ask you again. What are the other things? She went walking on the veranda with George Chapman. Oh, and where were you two? We were sitting inside. I see. That explains it. Now, thanks for coming, girls, and do drop in again later. The year is 1874. The city, Boston. And the girl about whom the Barrett sisters, Emma and Jane, were speaking is... Fanny. Fanny Farmer. What do you want, Maggie? Not you in my kitchen. You can't boil water without scotch, man. All right, you're the cook, Maggie. I was just going to make coffee. I'll make it and I'll thank you. Fanny dear. Yes, Mother. I'd like to speak to you, dear. All right. See you later, Maggie. Not in my kitchen, I declared to get somebody. Poor Maggie. Fanny, the ball last night. Did you have a good time? Oh, wonderful, Mother. Danced a lot, didn't you? Every dance. With all the young men? Well, I think so. Why, did I miss someone? Oh, darling, be serious, please. What's the matter, Mother? The Barrett girls were here. Oh. What did they say about me this time? Darling, it's not what they say. I don't care about that. Then what's the matter? Fanny, it's time you thought about settling down. Oh, Mother, don't worry about me. Don't worry about anything. Worry makes people old. Hello, dear Fanny. Hello, Father. Now, Frank, Fanny and I were having a little talk. Good. Fill me in on the details and I'll join you. Can anyone in this house be serious? You, my dear, you're the steadying influence. All right. Now, Fanny, we were... Oh, Mother, I'm so hungry. I'm hungry, too. Is dinner ready? Oh, why can't you two be serious? Someday I'm going to have a serious talk in this house if it kills me. What have you done now, chick? Oh, I think the Barrett girls upset Mother. Well, that's not hard for them. Just passing them on the street gives me a cute indigestion. Father. What? Do you think it's time for me to settle down? What do you think about it? Well, I don't want to. Not yet. Then that settles it. I've spoiled you for 17 years, so why should I argue with you now? But maybe Mother's right. She's always right, chick. And I mean that. Sometimes I do wonder what... Well, what good I am. When a person begins to wonder about that, it's time to stop thinking about it. Yes, but Father... You think about it later. Meanwhile, have a good time if you want to and when you want to. Girls have a bad habit of slipping by and they're always filled with the things we wish we would have done. Oh, hey, Fanny. Don't skate for a minute. But I thought we came here to go ice skating, George. Oh, but it's so nice to see you still for a minute. Gives me a chance to see what you look like. Oh, red nose, hair blown to ribbons. You're very lovely. Thank you, George. Fanny, let's be serious for a minute, please. I've asked you five times to marry me. Number six now. Will you marry me? Well, I... Oh, George, do you have to ask me right now? When I finally slow you down, I've got to. It's the only chance I get. Will you, Fanny? Oh, I like you, George. Oh, thanks. More than like you. Well, then what's the delay? Can't you answer me yes and no? Well, I don't want to yet. Look, I promise you say yes and I'll never ask you again. What if I say no? Would you? Is that the way you feel? No, it's not. I think the answer would be yes. But Fanny, did you say yes? I said I think. Now, we came here to skate, George, and we're going to skate. Come on. Oh, racially. Oh! Fanny! Hey, Fanny, did you hurt yourself? No. I don't think so, but that was silly. My legs buckled under me. Just couldn't stand up. Oh, hey, you're cold here. Come on. George, George, don't. Wait a minute, will you? Darling, what's the matter? You look so funny. It is funny, George. I can't seem to make my legs bind me. George, I can't get up. Dr. Maynard. Yes, Fanny? Dr. Maynard, what is it? Well, you just stay in bed for a while longer, and we'll see. But I have for two days. We can't hurry these things, you know. Doctor, I know you told Mother and Father what's the matter with me. Now, tell me, too, everything. I wish I knew everything to tell you, but we know so little about this form of paralysis. Paralysis? It may be only temporary. Maybe? Then it could be permanent? Well, we've got to consider both possibilities. I see. Will I ever be able to walk again? Fanny, I don't know. Oh, well, that's frank enough. Thank you. No, you just relax and get some sleep. I'll drop by again tomorrow, and whatever you do, don't think too much about it. Bye. Goodbye, my dear. No more dancing, or skating, or nothing. Come in. Can I come in, Chick? Yes, of course, Father. Dr. Maynard told you? Yes, he did. Well, look, Chick, things aren't always as bad as they seem, not right away anyhow. I know that. George Chapman's downstairs. Oh? Can he come up? No, not today. Maybe tomorrow. He told me he's asked you to marry him. Fine boy, George. I love him. Yes, yes, my dear, I figured as much. Father. What, Chick? I feel sorry for myself. I keep thinking that this means no more dancing, skating, nothing. And the more I think about it, the more I ask why this had to happen to me. I'm just sorry for myself. Well, sure you are. Who wouldn't be? But I'm not going to tell George I won't marry him. I want him to wait, wait a year, because I love him, Father. I love him too much to be noble about this and send him away. And maybe when a year is over, I'll be better. You said a year, Fanny. It's been a year now. No different from last. Oh, George, it's no use. Oh, please, darling, let's get married. No, George. Stop being a little fool. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. I'm over that, long ago. Then what's the matter? Oh, you know. I don't know. Well, I can't marry you like this. Now you're being noble. No, you are, George. And it's no use. Ask me a million times and my answer would still be no. But there's always the chance you'll get better. And there's always the chance I won't. I'm willing to take that chance, darling. Why aren't you? Because I've given myself a year, and I'm no better. Dr. Maynard knows I'll never get better. I can tell by the way he speaks, the way he looks at Mother and Father when he leaves. Oh, George, dear, please realize once and for all that it's just no use. Hello, chick. Good morning, Father. Feeling all right today? Yes, fine. Good. Well, I'm going to the shop. I'll see you this evening. Father, wait a minute. What is it, honey? Well, things aren't going well, are they? Now, what makes you say that? Well, I know. Doctor's bills, five years of... Now, chick, stop worrying your pretty head. We're getting along all right. Oh, I didn't notice it before. Father, your hair's quite gray now. It looks good on me. Mother says so. Oh, Father, I... Gee, baby, honey, what's the matter? That's... This is the first time I've seen you cry. Well, I can't keep it in any longer. I just can't. Father. Fanny, what are you doing up this time of night? Well, I heard you in here and I wanted to come in and talk to you. All right. Go ahead, chick. How's the printing business? Mine? Oh, fine. Mother told me you put off buying a new printing machine. Ah, one of it. The old hand presses are good enough for a while. No, they're not. You're losing money. Well, things will pick up. Father, for ten years I've been useless, doing nothing, taking everything. What kind of talk is that? I thought you made up your mind a long time ago not to feel sorry for yourself. It's not self-pity anymore. It's almost contempt. Fanny. Yes, it is. Ten years of sitting in this wheelchair. Ten years sitting around watching you and Mother smile and laugh. Well, there must be something I can do. I won't hear of it. Well, you've got to. You're not well. It's just my legs. I'm not useless, am I? Well, I... Oh. Oh, you think so, too? I won't hear any more of this. Useless. Well, I won't be any longer. I'm going to work, Father. Oh, don't worry, Chick. We'll get along. I'll manage. Maybe you will, but I won't. You... What do you mean, dear? If I'd done one useful thing in my life before this happened to me, I'd feel better. But I didn't. You once told me that the years slip by, that they're filled with things we wish we'd done. Oh, Father, I'm through letting them slip by. I'm going to work. Miss Farmer, I'm very sorry. But the work in the store here seems to be too much for you. I'm afraid we'll have to let you go. Not that you haven't made a splendid librarian, Miss Farmer, but the moving around is too much for you. My dear, I hate to say this, but during the business, right... It's too much for me. Well, yes. If there were any way to keep you, I'd certainly be very happy to... I'm glad you lost those jobs, Chick. Now maybe you'll stay home with us. Of course, darling. We can sew. I can't sew. It's so easy to learn. Sure, and in the evenings you can work on the accounts for my shop. Father, there are no accounts. You know that. Well, at least you tried, darling. You can't do any more. I can. But I'm afraid I'll have to leave. I'll have to leave. I'll have to leave. I'll have to leave. I'll have to leave. I'll have to leave. You can't do any more. I can. I'm going to a new job tomorrow. What? Oh, no, dear. Look, Chick, we didn't stop you before because you had your heart set on it. Now you've got to realize... It's no use, I know, but there's something I haven't tried. I'm going to work for Mrs. Shaw. Mrs. Shaw? But that's ridiculous. She doesn't own a store or a business. She has three children. I shall take care of them for her. I think I shall like that very much. Anyway, I start to work for Mrs. Shaw tomorrow. ["The Star-Spangled Banner"] You are listening to Kitchen Scientist, starring Ida Lupino as Fanny Farmer on the cavalcade of America, sponsored by the DuPont Company, maker of better things for better living through chemistry. ["The Star-Spangled Banner"] Paralyzed for ten years, Fanny Farmer determines to lead a useful life. However, she is forced to leave job after job when the strain on her becomes too great. As the second part of our story opens, she is in Mrs. Shaw's home caring for the children. Fanny, I want to talk to you. Alright, Mrs. Shaw? You've been with me for some time now, and I've watched you with the children, the way you prepare their food and the... Mrs. Shaw, please. I hope you don't think it's too much for me. I love my work here and I love the children. I'm sure you do, dear. But you don't want to go on for the rest of your life being a mother's helper. But this is the only thing I can do. I've tried everything else. You can cook? Me? Oh, I wish Maggie could hear you say that. Maggie or no Maggie, you've learned to cook and to cook well. Are you saying I should be a cook? No. But why don't you go to Boston Cooking School? Learn more about cooking. But what on earth would I do with such training? Teach. Teach cooking. I notice you've got a lot of little tricks I'd never think of. Well, they're nothing. I just think of them. Before anyone else does. Oh, please, Fanny, try the school. Well, but I... All right. But I'll be the worst pupil they've ever had. Miss Fanny, maybe you did go to that cooking school for a while. Maybe you are a teacher now. But I'll thank you to remember I'm the boss in this kitchen. Now, don't be so stubborn, Maggie. You just listen to me. I'll not listen to it, Miss Fanny. I'll not listen to any newfangled notions about cooking. Just for a minute. Not for a second. What's the matter? My cooking ain't good enough after all these years? Who says it's not, Maggie? Oh, it's that daughter of yours trying to tell me how to run my kitchen. Father, I simply want to try something, and I want Maggie to listen. All right. Tell me, and Maggie can eavesdrop. Eavesdrop? I never did such a thing in my life. Go ahead, Fanny. What's this idea? It's so simple. Level measurements. Huh. What? Today, a girl in one of my classes couldn't get the right amount of baking powder. Numbskull, that's what she was. Ah, you be quiet, Maggie. You're not supposed to be listening, Maggie. Now, let me tell you, Father. Well, I tried to show the girl that a heaping spoonful of powder should be as round on top as the spoon is round on the bottom. This is all Greek to me. Why, sure, heaped up as round as the bottom of the spoon. But what's the epical discovery? Well, this girl said, would it be all right if she measured in level spoonfuls? Well, with that one question, she has taken the guesswork out of cooking. Ha! Nonsense. Hmm. You'd get the right amount that way all the time, wouldn't you? Never a failure. Have you ever tasted my failures? Oh, Maggie. Maggie, you're a wonderful cook. But you've had years of experience. What about the ones who have never cooked before? They'll learn or lose their husbands. Fanny, why don't you teach that method at school? I'm going to. Come on, come on. We'll figure out how many level teaspoonfuls go into a heaping one. Then I can go over all the recipes and change them. But stay away from my kitchen, all those new fanny. Ha ha ha. Maggie doesn't approve. But others will. I'll rewrite the recipes. Write a cookbook. Good. Wonderful, Chick. Come on, get it started. And I... What's the matter? Oh, I just thought how foolish this all sounds. Foolish? How do you mean? Being excited over a stupid little thing like a cookbook. Recipes. For a moment it seemed important. And I was going to do something worthwhile. Just a cookbook. Chick. What, Father? I've never preached to you. Pointed out moral lessons, have I? No. Why? I am now. Fanny, nothing's really unimportant. No matter what it is, if you contribute something that'll help others, it becomes important. It makes its own importance by the virtue of being the contribution of an individual to the majority. Even a cookbook. Not even a cookbook, Fanny. But a cookbook, too. But my dear Miss Farmer, our concern has never published a cookbook. Then you couldn't start with a better one than this. Boston Cooking School Cookbook. Yes. Miss Farmer, fads come and go, particularly cooking fads. These are facts in this book, not fads. Of course, of course, of course. Well, is it because I'm a woman? Of course not, Miss Farmer. We publish works by women writers, Helen Hunt Jackson, Louisa May Alcott. But we concentrate on scientific volumes for Harvard University. Good. This book is scientific. It makes cooking a science, not a wild adventure in the kitchen. But I don't think we could touch it, Miss Farmer. Recipes, recipes, recipes. No, no, I'm afraid we couldn't... Oh, creamed lobster and oysters. It's a great favorite of mine. And princess potatoes. Oh, well. And popovers. You like them? Yes, but our cook never seems to get them just right. That recipe guarantees perfect results. Do you mind if I copy it down? Why not publish the whole book? Have all the recipes. Please, please. I'll even pay you to publish my book. Why? Because I want people to know about level measurement. This book is my only means of doing it. I must say I admire your persistence, Madam. I believe I can convince the company to publish your cookbook and to buy the books from you as they're sold. Good. But I advise a very small printing. And no more than 3,000 copies. Fanny, you've got a visitor. A visitor who? Dr. Jocelyn from the Harvard Medical School. Medical school? Why does he want to see me? Are you sure he does? I'm getting old, not stupid, Chick. I know what he said. Will you wheel me out? Sure thing. Oh, what on earth could he want with me? Well, let's find out. There he is. Good afternoon, Miss Farmer. Dr. Jocelyn. I'm very happy to meet you, Miss Farmer. It's an honor to visit the woman whose book has sold more than 30,000 copies. And still going strong. Oh, please, Father. Won't you sit down, Dr. Jocelyn? Thank you, Miss Farmer. Now, I'll come right to the point of this visit. You've heard of diabetes. Why? Why, yes, Doctor, but I... But you know nothing about it. That's right. But you do know cooking, dietary theory and practice. Miss Farmer, people who suffer from diabetes must eat carefully. Diets containing too much sugar are, uh, no good. Yes. Yes, go on. Since you've established your cooking school here at Boston, I've had an idea. About my school? Yes. There are special diets that can be planned for diabetics. Diets low in sugar? Exactly. Diabetes is a terrible disease. A slow, miserable starvation for those who have it. But with proper diets, nutritious, palatable... Of course. Of course it could be done. Careful planning, experiments. Why, I'd be glad to help. Good. And, uh, I should like to ask another favor. What's that, Dr. Jocelyn? I want my students to hear your lectures. And if I can help in any way... Why, you can. Why don't you lecture at my school, Doctor? So that everyone, my pupils and yours, could learn the importance of diet. Good. A fair exchange. All right, Miss Farmer. When do we start? Well, the disease doesn't wait, Dr. Jocelyn, so why should we? Wonderful. Now, I won't take up any more of your time. Thank you very much. No, no, please don't bother to see me to the door. I'll find it all right. Good day, Miss Farmer. Mr. Farmer. Good day. Good bye, Doctor. Well, chick, how do you feel about that silly, unimportant cookbook now? Oh, Father. Father, I'm useful. I'm going to do something worthwhile for people. People who need help. Who need help badly. Oh, Miss Farmer. Miss Farmer. Good morning, Dr. Jocelyn. Well, your plan seems to be a complete success. This is the largest class I've had in my school. America owes you a great debt, Miss Farmer, for your work in helping diabetics. No, Dr. Jocelyn. I owe a great debt to America. I owe a great debt to America. I owe a great debt to America. I owe a great debt to America. I owe a great debt to America. I owe a great debt to America. I owe a great debt to America. I owe a great debt to America. I owe a great debt to America. I owe a great debt to America. And once I thought my life was over, there was nothing I could do for myself or anyone else. Good afternoon, Dr. Jocelyn. Good afternoon, young man. Miss Farmer, may I speak to you for just a moment? I certainly... Excuse me. Oh, no. It's not private, Dr. Jocelyn. Quite all right. I have some things to do anyway. Now, young man. Miss Farmer, my name is Chapman. George Chapman, Jr. My father said he knew you. George Chapman. Yes. Yes, you look like him. I guess I do. How is your father? Oh, he's much better. Now. Better now? Yes, ma'am. That's why I wanted to talk with you. He's been ill, diabetes. But your book, Food and Cooking for the Sick in Convalescence. He's read it. Not only read it, but followed your advice in it. Miss Farmer, he's so much better. Good. I haven't seen him in more than 20 years. He asked me to thank you. I see. Miss Farmer, you look a little tired. Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you like this. No, no, George. No, that's all right. Can I get you something? No. Just take me into the lecture room, George. I think this will be the best lecture I ever gave. Fanny Farmer, America's kitchen scientist, was the forerunner of today's thousands of trained home economists who have made such a valuable contribution to American homemaking. Hers is a story of inspiration and courage, qualities that characterize the men and women who have endowed this land with freedom and opportunity for every one of us. Now, here is Gain Whitman speaking for DuPont. In the United States, we have more than 15 million boys and girls of teenage between the years of 12 and 20. We could move all the people out of New York, our most densely populated state, fill it with boys and girls, and still have a couple of million left over. Schools and colleges are gay and busy with a hum of excited talk as these young men and women return from vacation. And wherever you go, grade schools, high schools, universities, young people are wearing comfortable clothes and sensible shoes, often with crepe rubber soles. If you've worn crepe soles, you know yourself how comfortable they are without my telling you. They seem to put a spring in your walk. Today, they can be better than ever, and many of them are, for they are made of neoprene crepe, a product specifically developed for shoe sales by the research laboratories of DuPont. Neoprene crepe soles look like ordinary rubber. There is a difference, however, which shows in the appearance of the shoe and the sole after hard wear. Neoprene crepe soles resist spreading and curling in summer heat, and thus eliminate much of the tendency to pick up grit and track dirt into the house. They are not greatly affected by oil and grease, and as a result, they wear longer. The original shape and appearance are retained to a marked degree, even after many months of hard wear. Neoprene crepe soles can be made in a variety of colors, as well as the popular natural shade. If you are in the shoe business and would like more technical information about neoprene soles, just write on your business letterhead, address the radio section DuPont Company, Wilmington, Delaware, and we will send you an eight-page booklet illustrated in color. Next time you visit your regular shoe store, ask to see a pair of neoprene crepe sole shoes. Try them on. See how comfortable they are and how well they look. Crepe soles of neoprene rubber are another example of the way science, along with developing new products, also makes old products better. They are one of the DuPont Company's better things for better living through chemistry. If you had recently finished a term as President of the United States, would you accept a nomination to run for Congress? That's the problem that faced John Quincy Adams. And you'll hear his answer next Monday night when Lionel Barrymore stars in Return to Glory on the DuPont Cavalcade of America. The music for the DuPont Cavalcade is composed and conducted by Robert Armbruster. Tonight's cavalcade was written by Helene Hersfeld and Priscilla Kent. Ida Lupino may currently be seen starring in the Warner Brothers picture, Deep Valley. The music for the DuPont Cavalcade is composed and conducted by Robert Armbruster. Tonight's cavalcade was written by Helene Hersfeld and Deep Valley. Supporting Miss Lupino tonight were Alan Reed as the father, Janet Scott as the mother, and Robert Bailey as George. This is Frank Bingman inviting you to listen next week to Return to Glory, starring Lionel Barrymore on the Cavalcade of America, brought to you by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware. The DuPont Cavalcade of America came to you from Hollywood. This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.
