The DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, presents the Cavalcade of America, starring June Havoc and Jeffrey Lynn. Tonight's DuPont play is entitled, The Reluctant Pioneer, and stars Jeffrey Lynn as James Densmore and June Havoc as Lillian Shoals. A story must have a start. It must answer the question who, what, when, and where in the very first paragraph. Very well. My name is Lillian Shoals. My father was Christopher Latham Shoals of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The year it begins, 1868. And the place, the railway depot of Milwaukee. I beg your pardon, Miss. Yes? The station agent said that you might be able to help me. Well, I'd be happy to if I can. My name is Densmore, James Densmore. I'm looking for a Mr. Shoals, Christopher Latham Shoals. Do you know where he might be at this time of day? Well, that depends. Depends? Depends on what? Well, for one thing, it depends on the day of the week. If this were Monday, you would find him in the post office. He's collector of customs. Oh. Or if this were Tuesday or Friday, you would find him at the newspaper. He's editor. Really? Now, if this were Thursday, why, then he would be at Klein Stuber's machine shop. Well, it sounds like our friend Mr. Shoals is quite a remarkable man. A collector of customs, a newspaper editor, and a plumber. Oh, no. Oh, no. He's not a plumber. He's an inventor. Every Thursday he does nothing but invent. Well, that's all very interesting, but this happens to be Wednesday. And I still would like to know where I might find Mr. Shoals. Is it the post office, the newspaper plant, or the machine shop? In none of those places, Mr. Densmore. On Wednesday, Mr. Shoals stays home and plays chess. Ah, and can you tell me where his home might be? I could tell you, but I won't. What? Oh, well. No. I happen to be his daughter, sir. And if you can manage your baggage into the back of the buggy, I'll be pleased to drive you home. Well, I'll be fine. Well, I'm very glad to know you, Mr. Densmore. Very glad indeed. Come meet my cronies. This is Carlos Glidden. How do you do, sir? Howdy. And this is Sam Suley. Mr. Suley. Glad to meet you. Sit down, please. Some coffee? I'd like that very much. Lillian, please. Yes, Father. And now then, Mr. Densmore, what can I do for you? I don't know exactly how to answer that, Mr. Shoals. I have a letter here signed by you. Let me see it. Oh, yes. Yes, one of the circulars. I wrote it myself on my writing machine. Then there is a writing machine. Well, of course. And the letter was written on a writing machine? Of course. I think that fact is mentioned in the letter. Yes, it is. You also mentioned the fact that you were interested in securing financial backing for this invention. Oh, well, that was Glidden's idea to send some of these letters off to various peoples who are, well, promoters. Your name was given to us by some gentleman at the bank, as I remember. Yes. Yes. Now, let me understand this, Mr. Shoals. You've invented a writing machine. Yes, I guess you could say that. Well, you don't seem over enthusiastic about this invention. Oh, it's a good idea, I think. It's a wonderful invention, Mr. Densmore. Oh, now, Sam. Shoals here don't realize just how good it is. It's tremendous. Oh, Sam, Sam. Well, doggone it, Chris. If you won't blow your own horn, then somebody's got to do it for you. Listen to me, Mr. Densmore. That writing machine is a buke. Writes faster than most folks can by hand. Well, it's far from perfect. That's good enough. You won't invest in this machine, Mr. Densmore? I might. How much? Well, I'll have to see the machine before I commit myself. Fair enough. Come on. Let's go to the machine shop. No, no, no. We can't do that. Can't go to the machine shop now. Why not, Mr. Shoals? Well, we haven't finished our chess game. And besides, this is Wednesday. Oh, come on. Here she is, Mr. Densmore. My writing machine. Well, how does it work? Well, suppose we demonstrate. I'll do it, Father. All right, Lillian. You go ahead. Well, Mr. Densmore, the machine operates on the same principle as a piano. Hmm? Well, I mean, by hitting a lever like this. I see. This metal bar has a letter engraved on its head and it's made to strike against the paper. Now, under the top sheet of paper is a piece of carbon. And then another sheet and the bottom sheet gets the impression of the letter from the carbon. And, and well, that's it. You see? Gee, that's great. Where did you get the idea, Mr. Shoals? Oh, it came simply enough. I was working on a paging machine, a machine that would automatically stamp page numbers on ledgers. When I finished it, Glidden here said to me... I said, why can't a machine be made of the right letters and words instead of numbers alone? And you know, I couldn't think of a reason why not. So I just went ahead and did it. What do you call it? Well, it writes with type. So Father calls it a typewriter. And what do you plan to do with this, this thing you call a typewriter? Oh, I don't know. I was thinking we might make a few and exhibit them around. People might be amused to see such a machine in operation. Amused? Here you have a machine that may very well change the writing habits of the world. And you show it off with as much excitement, with as much enthusiasm as, as my Aunt Agatha showing off her needle point. Don't you know what you have here, Scholes? Don't you realize what this thing may be worth? Oh, no, it isn't that good. I know it's not that good. As it stands, it's no good at all. It's a contraption, a completely impractical, unfeasible collection of bars, string, wire and gears. I can see that with half an eye. But it's a first step, a beginning. Mr. Scholes, are you willing to follow through on this? Well, yes, I suppose so. If I back you up, give you the financing you need, will you agree to spend all your time, every minute of your time, perfecting this machine? Well, I'd like to think about that for a little bit, Mr. Densmore. You see, I... Scholes, there's a train out of here in exactly one hour. I'll be on that train unless I get the answer now, this very minute. Well, I... You've got to do it, Chris. Sure, you've got to do it. Come on now, don't be so stubborn. I'll do it, Father. Please do it for me. Well, all right. Seems that everyone's against me. All right, Mr. Densmore, suppose we say it's a deal. Scholes, when I made our agreement, I expected results. So far, all I've seen is a string of bills and a collection of models that won't work. Yeah? Well, I'm doing the best I can, Jim. I don't know what you expect. I expect a machine that'll be so strong, a steamroller won't smash it, so simple a child can manage it, and so cheap that every officer, every farmer, every schoolboy can own one. Well, I'd like that too, Jim, but I'm tired, worn out. Besides, I ain't had a game of chess in... Look, Chris, we've got a lion by the tail here, and we can't let go because we're tired. Can't think of a better reason. There's too much at stake. We've got something here that can do for industry what the cotton gin did for agriculture, revolutionize it. When you get involved in something as big as this, you don't play chess, you stay with it. All right, we've got to stay with this thing, Chris. We've got no choice. Mr. Densmore, I know I asked my father to do this, but, well, I'm almost sorry now because I don't think he's happy. What do you mean? Well, he was happy before you came. He was doing what he wanted to do, and in the way, he liked doing it. Yes, I see. Well, I guess I'm the devil's advocate, Miss Scholes. That's my job, but I hope you believe this. I think the world of your father, he's a brilliant man, and I'm going to make Chris Scholes the great man he was meant to be. You want to come in here, Jim? All right. Well, there she is. I think this model will be better. I hope so. I've made two changes. You see here, I'm not using carbon paper anymore. Oh? I've worked out a way of using an ink ribbon that passes between the type and the paper. Oh, that's good. And the second thing I've done is to rearrange the keyboard so that the letters most commonly used are scattered in such a way that there's less chance of the type bar jamming. See? Yeah. Q-W-E-R-T-Y-U-I-O-P. Looks peculiar. Yeah, but it works. Well, let's see. Lillian, please. All right, Father. I'm ready, Mr. Densmore. Fine. Let me see. All right. Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the party. Finished? Yes. Hey, let me see it. Chris, this looks good. It looks good enough to show back east. It better be good, James. What do you mean? I mean, I quit. I ain't having no fun. Now it was January of 1873. Freezing cold in Milwaukee. I remember that so well. But for me, it was springtime. A time of adventure. Because for the first time in my life, I was going on a trip. James Densmore arranged it all. He had written to the Remington Works in Ilyen, New York about Father's typewriter. They were interested and asked to see the machine demonstrated. Overnight, I was packed and with my aunt as traveling companion, I headed for Ilyen. When we arrived, we went directly to Mr. Densmore's hotel. And there we waited for the Remington people who were due to arrive any minute. They're here. They're here. Prayers, Miss Scholes. A lot of them big and little prayers. Sorry we're a bit late, Mr. Densmore. Heavy snow. That's all right, Mr. Remington. All right, indeed. I've brought along some gentlemen from the plant, Mr. Clough and Mr. Jenny. How do, Mr. Densmore. How do you do? Pleasure, sir. I'd like you to meet Miss Lillian Scholes, the daughter of the man who invented the machine. Well, this is indeed a pleasure. How do you do, Miss Scholes? Gentlemen? Are you here looking after your father's interests? No, sir. I'm here to show you what a wonderful machine my father invented. Oh, are you the demonstrator? Yes, sir. A woman operating a machine? That's very unusual. Well, the typewriter is a very unusual machine, Mr. Remington. Oh, it must be indeed. Well, proceed. You've got some hard-headed businessmen here, Miss Scholes. Suppose you try to soften this up a little, eh? For almost an hour, I sat at the keyboard and pounded away. And every moment, I expected our unpredictable little typewriter model to fall apart and protest. But it didn't. It clicked right along, printing line after line of neatly spaced, legibly printed words. Well, I think that'll be quite enough. Thank you very much, Miss Scholes. You're quite welcome, Mr. Remington. You must be a very tired young lady. Oh, I'm not, though. With all that writing you've done on the machine? No, sir. I'm as fresh as a daisy. That's remarkable. Well, what do you think of the typewriter, Mr. Remington? Why, it's a very crude machine as it stands. We realize that. But that's why we brought it to you. The Remington Company has the technicians, the engineers needed to turn this model into a sound and practical device. Possibly. Will you take it up, sir? Will you make our typewriters? You know, Mr. Densmore, sound business practices would call for something less than enthusiasm on my part, at this moment at least. I should be a little aloof, vague, indecisive. That would be good strategy, don't you think, Densmore? I suppose so. Yes. But frankly, at the moment, I am completely overwhelmed with the possibilities of this machine. Really? Now, I admit it. Of course I'll take up your typewriter, Densmore. I'd be out of my mind to do anything else. The DuPont cavalcade continues with June Havoc as Lillian Shoals and Jeffrey Lynn as James Densmore in The Reluctant Pioneer. The Remington typewriter, model number one, reached the market in 1875. Mr. Remington must have been quite impressed with my demonstration because no longer did the thought of a woman operating a machine seem so unusual. As a matter of fact, he thought it a pretty good idea. As witnessed the very first time, he thought it a pretty good idea. As witnessed the very first advertisement that ever appeared for the typewriter. The typewriter, a machine now superseding the pen. It is always ready for use, does not soil the dress of fingers, and makes no litter. No invention has opened for women so broad and easy an avenue to profitable and suitable employment as the typewriter. And it merits the careful consideration of all thoughtful and charitable persons interested in the subject of work for women. It was the summer of 1875 that Mr. Philo Remington came to Milwaukee to pay father and me a visit. This is an unexpected and a very welcome pleasure, Mr. Remington. The pleasure is all mine, sir. Mr. Densmore and I were just passing through on our way to Minneapolis and I insisted upon stopping over here to meet the man who invented this remarkable machine. I must say, sir, that your engineers have so altered my little brain child that I hardly recognize it. But they've done a good job. I'll find one. Yes, from an engineering standpoint, I think we've done well. I just wish I could say we've done as well from a sales standpoint. But why, Mr. Remington? Why isn't the typewriter selling? Oh, all sorts of reasons. Some business officers, the clerks have flatly refused to use it. Claim that it makes machines out of them. Oh, it's ridiculous. Well, it most certainly is. And of course, the novelty's worn off now. As I said it would. Yes, it seems like that's right. Remember that letter from Mark Twain? No. Did you really get a letter from Mark Twain, Mr. Remington? Oh, yes. We heard he'd purchased one of our machines and suggested to him that he write us an endorsement we could use in our advertising. Would you like to hear his answer? Oh, please. I have it right here. Gentlemen, please do not use my name in any way. What? Please do not even divulge the fact that I own a machine. I've entirely stopped using the typewriter for the reason that I never could write a letter with it to anybody without receiving a request by return mail that I would not only describe the machine but state what progress I had made in the use of it, et cetera, et cetera. Good. I don't like to write letters. And so I don't want people to know that I own this curiosity breeding little joker. Yours truly, Samuel L. Clements. Wow. Just like I said, they'd only be amused. Yes. All kinds of complaints have been coming in. My office sent a typed letter to a man in Kentucky. We got back a most sarcastic reply. The man wrote, you don't need to print no letters for me. I can read, write, and... Well, that seems to be our trouble. Too many people can read, write, and... The next year, 1876, was the year of the centennial exposition in Philadelphia. The Remington Company leased a large booth, decorated it elaborately, and proudly put on display the Remington Typewriter, model number one. Good afternoon, Densmore. Oh, hello, Mr. Remington. Well, our booth doesn't seem to be very busy today. We might as well have set it up in the middle of the Sahara. The only people we see are those rushing past to look at Alexander Graham Bell's new gadget, whatever they call it. The telephone. Whatever it is, it's stolen the show. We might as well pack up and go home. Oh, no, no. Wait a minute. Looks like we're getting a customer. Bring out the handcuffs. Don't let him get away. Shh. Don't scare him. Well, well, well. So this is the machine that's going to put me out of business. Out of business? Name is Parsons. Edward Parsons, maybe you've heard of me. Champion speed writer in the country. I'd like to see my medal. I'd take your word for it. Did better than 40 words a minute. Can your machine do as well, Mr. Wennington? Well, I... It can do better. Oh, thank God. Oh, don't be ridiculous. You can get 15 words a minute out of that thing. Hunting out letters, picking out words. A kid in drama school could write faster. Wait a minute. Mr. Parsons, are you open to a proposition? Might be. How'd you like to get into a contest? Win a medal, maybe? Sure. Solid gold. What kind of contest? You against the typewriter. For a gold medal. And a lot of publicity. Publicity? Oh, you count me in. Say when. Two weeks from today. Where? Right here. When I win. Do I get my name engraved on the medal? In block letters. Oh. Well, old English is the way I like it. Old English. All right. It's all set. I'll see you in two weeks. And have my medal ready. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye. This is our golden chance, Mr. Wennington. The one thing we need. The one thing that'll draw us a crowd. Oh. We'll build it up in the press. Put up special seats for the spectators. Get some big name to preside. Oh, I don't know, James. The man is fast. Very fast. Where are we going to get a man to compete against him? We're not going to get a man. We're going to get Lillian Scholes down here from Milwaukee. Oh, I still don't know. I'm not sure at all. You never can be sure. That's what makes life worth living. This contest will either put the typewriter across or bury it so deep the devil will start typing his diary. Ladies and gentlemen. Ladies and gentlemen, the contest between the handwriting champion of America and the apparatus known as the typewriter is about to begin. Judge Dunaway will officiate. Now, please, please be as quiet as possible so that the contestants may hear his words. All right, judge. Oh, thank you. Well, I think we're ready to start. Will the contestants please seat themselves? Now, I believe we are all satisfied as to the method of procedure. I shall read a statement to Ms. Scholes and Mr. Parsons. Mr. Parsons, the American handwriting champion, will take it down in longhand. Ms. Scholes will do the same at the typewriter. I will pace my voice slowly at first, gradually increasing the tempo. When either contestant shall find that he or she cannot keep up with my dictation, he shall call out the word quit. Is that clear? Yes, quite clear? Are you ready? Oh, no, no, please. What? I mean, one moment while I get my paper straight on the roller. All right. Mr. Parsons. One moment while I get the lead straight on my pencil. Ready? Very well. I shall begin. This is a contest between the handwriting champion of America and an apparatus known as a typewriter. The typewriter is the invention of Christopher Latham Scholes of Milwaukee. Its speed and efficiency is now being tested for all the world to see. Wait a minute, wait a minute, too fast. Too fast. I am now increasing my pace. I quit. I quit. Well, just a moment. Just a moment. Let me examine Ms. Scholes' work. The winner, Ms. Scholes and the typewriter. That day the typewriter won more than a mere contest. It proved itself. Newspapers all over the country told the story. Some even published pen drawings of me seated at the keyboard of the typewriter clicking merrily away. Orders soon began to flood into the Remington factory. And that was the beginning. The beginning of a story which even today is still being written. Christopher Latham Scholes lived long enough to see the whole world tempo of commerce flow to the rhythm of fingers tapping out words. What better thing can we say of him than he build it wiser than he knew. Our thanks to June Havoc and Jeffrey Lin and the Cavalcade players for tonight's story. Tonight's DuPont Cavalcade was written by Irv Tunick. In our cast with June Havoc and Jeffrey Lin you heard Bill Adams as Mr. Scholes and Roland Winters as Mr. Remington. Music was composed by Arden Cornwell conducted by Donald Borey's. The program was directed by John Zoller. This is Cy Harris speaking. Ladies and gentlemen the response to our Cavalcade story three weeks ago, Uncle Uri's dollar, has been so unusual we thought you would like to know about it. This was the heartwarming story of how Professor Willie Lee Buffington of Augusta, Georgia founded the Faith Cabin Libraries to repay a debt of human kindness and the response from our Cavalcade listeners was as heartwarming as the story itself. Many of our listeners took the time to tell us how the story had touched their hearts. Nearly half of them wanted to know where they could send books. So here's the address. Professor Willie Lee Buffington, Payne College, Augusta, Georgia. The DuPont Cavalcade of America comes to you from the Belasco Theater in New York and is sponsored by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware. Makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Laugh with Baby Snooks and Fibba McGee with more good times tonight on NBC.
