Everybody Dance!

Love's Labor Won (1933) has a few things to like—a singing, overstuffed chair and a singing tiger rug, but it suffers from crude animation here and there, and the discovery by the story department that there’s less than a minute and a half to go and the villain hasn’t shown up yet. The fight scene doesn’t have time to build; Cubby and the wolf exchange a few punches and then the cartoon’s over.

Instead we get a couple of songs and a lot of dancing. A pair of fish seem ecstatic about this.



There’s another scene that you’ll find in a number of Van Beuren cartoons where the background moves from side to side while a screen full of characters dance in the foreground.



Unfortunately, this isn’t a strong Cubby Bear cartoon. And this was only the second of the series. Still, I like it.

John Foster and Mannie Davis were responsible for this short.

The Last Little Godfrey

Arthur Godfrey called nine people into his office after his morning programme went off the air on April 15, 1955. The first thing he said to them was “I will read you a press release prepared for the wire services.”

That’s how they learned they were fired.

When Godfrey finished reading, singer Marion Marlowe asked Godfrey if that means “as of this moment.” Godfrey replied “Yes. Any other questions?” She then said “No,” and Godfrey simply responded “Thank you for your cooperation. Good bye.” That was it.

Marlowe quickly signed with Ed Sullivan at $3,000 a show. Godfrey had been paying her half that—for an entire week (Godfrey was on five days a week on radio).

The firing story related by Judith Crist in the New York Herald Tribune quoted Godfrey as saying “new ideas and personalities” were needed to jack up the ratings. But Godfrey kept about half of his performers. One writer was spared—a gentleman named Andrew A. Rooney. And so was announcer Tony Marvin.

One can only imagine Godfrey’s reaction when Marvin, about two weeks later, appeared in a nightclub act with the Mariners, the racially-diverse quartet that Godfrey had fired.

Here’s the story from the Boston Globe of April 30, 1955. In it, Marvin relates how he got into the radio business and his take on the latest Godfrey turmoil.

Tony Marvin, Mariners, Join Voices in Club Act
By ELIZABETH L. SULLIVAN
Globe Radio-TV Editor
That tremendous roar you heard late yesterday afternoon when it rained hardest wasn’t a clap of thunder. It was simply the deep baritone voices of Tony Marvin and the Mariners in greeting at the Latin Quarter. Tony had just arrived from New York to join the Mariners act of last night. He will remain here until Sunday.
After exchanging greetings, the group gathered around the piano on stage and the Mariners became a "quintet." Waiters, preparing the tables for the evening trade, paused with the press to enjoy the fine singing. There were no long faces here. The boys were having fun, despite their dismissal from the Arthur Godfrey show.
Tony Marvin isn’t fired . . . yet. And since he is under contract to the C. B. S. network, he is sure of his job. “I arrive for rehearsal each morning at 9, driving in from my home on Long Island. When I finish my TV day, I head right for home and the golf links,” said Tony.
“Of course, some TV days are longer than others. Wednesday is a long day and when 9 p. m. comes, we on the show know we've put in a hard day. It was especially rough learning our parts for the ice shows and special performances, but from now on there won't be the big casts connected with the Godfrey shows,” continued Marvin.
No Prompter for Tony
“Do you use a teleprompter on the commercials?” we asked. “They are so letter perfect, yet you don't appear to be consulting one.”

“No teleprompter. But I do use cue cards. If one has a good product to demonstrate and one knows the subject matter thoroughly, one needn't have difficulty getting the commercial message across,” replied Tony.
Night club work is new to Tony, although he frequently entertains at outside functions with the Little Godfreys. The group will put on a performance in another few weeks when the Indianapolis Speedway races get under way.
Where was he when Godfrey lowered the boom? Out to lunch. When he returned to C. B. S., the street was lined with newspapermen, photographers and the curious. Tony was collared by the press. “What happened?” asked Tony.
“The cast was fired” . . . this was news to Tony.
“I look upon my position as a job. I enjoy my work and do it as well as I can. Once in a while I talk out of turn; perhaps, but it isn't harmful. If anything, it churns up a bit of unexpected laughter. Work over, I head for home.”
Tony is staying with Boston friends during his Latin Quarter engagement. Weather permitting, he will be out on the golf links today.
Sidetracked Doctor
Viewers know Tony as a walking encyclopedia. Godfrey hasn't stumped him many times. Tony is quick to smile, is witty and is looking forward to meeting his TV followers at the Latin Quarter. He is excellent on the emcee chores, sings a little and tells stories in that delightfully resonant voice of his.
Tony is about 45. His ambition was to become a doctor. He attended Long Island College of Medicine for two years, but the depression interefered. He did odd jobs in the theatre but was channeled into radio by Jerry Wald, who had a talent show on radio and asked Marvin to emcee it.
Meanwhile, his voice won him the leading bass part with the New York Operatic Guild and after that he got into musical comedy, playing in such hits as "White Horse Inn," "Virginia," and "Having Wonderful Time."
Eventually he got parts in daytime radio programs. One day during a visit to New York's municipal station, WNYC, he walked into an audition session. He tried out . . . and won a job. The late Mayor LaGuardia heard him and appointed him announcer and chief of special events for the station.
When the World's Fair opened, Tony became chief announcer. He closed the fair, walked over to CBS and got a job. He has been with the network since 1939.
He has been with the Little Godfreys for seven years. He thoroughly enjoys the group. “They're a wonderful bunch,” says he, refering to Haleloke, the Mariners, Marion, etc., as if the family was still intact.
The Marvins have one daughter, Lynda Ann, age 14. “She doesn’t know whether she wants to be a scientist, a doctor . . . but she does know she doesn’t want to be an entertainer,” chuckled Tony.

However, as inevitable as night follows day, Godfrey’s sharpened axe fell on Tony Marvin. How abruptly it happened is unclear but Marvin was very classy about it in public. This is from the Herald Tribune syndication service of June 30, 1959.

Stardom Is Goal Of Tony Marvin
By MARIE TORRE
Having overcome the initial effects of bad news, Tony Marvin drew himself up to the full height of his magnificently tailored six-foot frame and determined to become what former boss Arthur Godfrey is, a full-fledged TV and radio star.
"Right now," said the announcer whose pearl-shaped basso profundo filled the Godfrey shows for a record run of 13 years, "My agent and manager are conferring about a Tony Marvin television show and a Tony Marvin radio show. I hope the American public loves me as much as they did or said they did during the years with Arthur.”
Though the Godfrey disconnection was not entirely unexpected (“Since Arthur’s operation, none of us knew what would happen”), Marvin reacted to the dismissal notice with the numbness that afflicts all people when adversity comes.
"I felt disembodied for a moment," he elaborated, “but I soon recovered. After 13 years with a guy you can’t accept something like this with a smile on your face, even though you understand the situation. In his letter, Arthur said that his radio show next season would be an informal sort of thing, and ‘a man of your high calibre would be a luxury.’
"The old flatterer. I'll miss him. I love the guy. I hope he lives to be nine thousand years old."
At present, Marvin's distinctively resonant voice is heard on the Godfrey replacement programs, "The Robert Q. Lewis Show" on radio, and "The Sam Levenson Show" on TV. He is assured of employment through the end of September, after which he'll be on his own and he shouldn't find it difficult to succeed, if only for that 13-year record with Godfrey. Is there another living American who can make that claim?

Well, Don Wilson could make that claim, but let’s not get sidetracked.

The Tony Marvin TV show never happened. In 1961, Marvin moved over to the Mutual radio network and spent a number of years reading top-hour newscasts before the network headquarters moved to Washington and he went into semi-retirement. In the mid-‘70s Marvin had a disc-jockey show in Connecticut and even operated his own board. He packed up for Florida where he emceed benefits in his smooth style and was the “voice of the Boca Pops” for a good 20 years.

Tony Marvin passed away in 1998 just after his 86th birthday.

Santa is Buried in the Canadian Woods

Mountie Elmer Fudd is chasing Bugs Bunny under the Canadian snow in Fresh Hare, a 1942 cartoon written by Mike Maltese for the Friz Freleng unit at Warners.



Ah, the old “Split before going around the tree gag.” Bugs does it. Elmer, well, you know what’ll happen.



Now an unexpected sight gag. The tree shakes off all its snow to reveal it’s a decorated Christmas tree. Elmer pops up from the snow and he’s wearing a Santa hat. Now Bugs pops up and exclaims “Merry Christmas, Santy” as Carl Stalling plays “Jingle Bells” on the soundtrack.



Manny Perez is given the animation credit and I suspect Lenard Kester is the background artist.

Ground Floor: Pigs, Santas

Rich Hogan and Tex Avery agreed. Fairy tales are worn out. How many parodies did they make at MGM?

One Ham's Family (1943) barely starts with the premise of the Three Little Pigs. We do have three pigs and a wolf, but that’s about all it has in common. The wolf ends up dressing up as Santa to try to get into the home to eat the baby pig.

Avery has to throw in the unexpected, though sometimes his ideas aren’t too surprising. Here, the little pig sees the soot of Santa descending. The gag: Santa’s actually in an elevator.



Preston Blair, Ray Abrams and Ed Love are Avery’s animators in this one.

Tralfaz Sunday Theatre—Emergency Numbers

Yes, times have changed. Here’s a short cartoon to prove it.

Today, we just programme emergency numbers in our cell phone. In 1984, you could bash in a window with one of those brick phones—if you owned one. Likely you had a phone button phone (more modern than those old dial things) and emergency numbers listed at the front of a nearby phone book.

This 1984 National Film Board animated short from Oscar winner John Weldon involves a cat and dog fight that also reminds us to keep emergency numbers close to our telephones.

Pre-Perrin The Benny Show

Putting Marjorie Lord, Raymond Bailey, Keith Andes and Sam Perrin on the road together might have made an interesting premise for a sitcom, but it happened in real life.

CBS gathered them up and put them on a media tour, pushing their series for the 1963-64 season (Andes, later the voice of Birdman, was on a failure called Glynis that year). As a side note, the network had another touring group consisting of Rod Serling, Pamela Britton, Elizabeth Wilson of East Side West Side, Edgar Buchanan and Robert Reed.

Perrin was basically a stand-in for Jack Benny, who would have been too big a star to go on one of these things. He and the two groups made stops in the South and several newspaper columnists had a good chat with Perrin about the Benny show.

Here are two of them, the first from the Atlanta Constitution of August 14, 1963 and the second from the Miami Herald of the 16th. Perrin talks about some of the routines on the show, the “all business” attitude in writing, and praises Jeanette Eymann, Jack’s script assistant who made occasional appearances on both the radio and TV shows and was periodically Mary Livingstone’s stand-in during the final radio seasons. She died in 2012.

It’s a bit of a stretch for Perrin to say he “helped create” the Maxwell. Bill Morrow and Ed Beloin did that in the ‘30s. The “age” gags started under them, too. But Perrin and the other Benny writers fine-tuned them. And you’ll be interested to read which celebrity was difficult to write for; someone you would not have guessed.

It's a Serious Job To Benny's Writer
By PAUL JONES
What's it like to write for a comedian such as Jack Benny?
"It's serious business," said Sam Perrin, for 21 years one of Benny's writers, who was in Atlanta as part of the CBS-TV stars caravan here to discuss new fall programming.
"Comedy is very serious business," said Perrin, who along with Benny's other three writers have been nominated six times for Emmy Awards. "The mere fact that people laugh at what I write does not make it a less inspired work." Writing comedy material is not a lot of horseplay, as you might suspect. Comedy writers don't just sit around cracking jokes and guffawing over their own lines. Comedy material comes as the result of tireless effort, conferences with Benny, discussions, discussions and more discussions. Sometimes, Perrin said, the four writers assigned to the show turn out a complete script at a single sitting. "More often," he said, "a script emerges after only a full, five-day work week."
"We are not inspired by anything in particular. Writing comedy material comes from necessity," said Perrin.
Perrin is the oldest member of Benny's writing team. "I've been with Jack for 21 years," he said. "George Balzer joined him shortly after I went with him. Al Gordon and Hal Goodman have been writing for Benny for 15 years. Jack calls them his 'junior writers'."
Perrin said the script writing begins with a conference with Jack in which the writers discuss with Jack the ideas they have for situations and lines. After the ideas are established we turn out the script. Sometimes he changes a line or two and even sometimes throws out an entire sequence. "Sometimes, we have to overrule him," Perrin said, smiling.
PERRIN said something that is known pretty generally that Benny is not actually stingy as he is portrayed in the tight-wad character he created originally in his vaudeville days.
"Jack is a very warm-hearted and generous man," said Perrin, who helped create some of the Benny character gimmicks.
"I helped create the old Maxwell, the ancient automobile that Benny refers to. I helped create his age (39)," he said.
Perrin tells a funny story about the age gimmick.
"We decided to begin the age gag, making him 36 to begin with," said Perrin. "Then each year, on his birthday we aged him one year until he reached 39. Then when he was to turn 40 we decided to give the gag a lot of production, to write a show around him becoming 40 years old. We created a spectacular. Benny turned 40 amid all the hoopla. But the public didn't like that at all. Realizing that we had made a mistake, we turned back the clock and made Benny 39 all over again. He's been 39 ever since."
PERRIN says that although Benny is regarded as one of the funniest comedians alive he seldom says anything funny.
"The only time he says anything funny is when he does a monologue," said Perrin. "Benny gets laughs letting the comedy lines bounce off his character."
But Benny can get more laughs simply by shrugging his shoulders, turning his head, sighing or saying something as simple as "Oh, shucks, Rochester."
It is said that Benny has never used an off-color line in all his career. With his immense talent for comedy he never had to resort to such things.
Like Perrin says, "Benny is one of the Jack Benny most gifted comedians in the world."

Sam Just Writes Them
Perrin Leaves Jokes to Benny
By JACK E ANDERSON
Herald Radio-TV Editor
IT WOULD seem to make sense that Sam Perrin, veteran writer of funny lines for Jack Benny, ought to be a very funny guy himself.
That’s the assumption a group of us TV editors had when we joined Perrin in his Deauville Hotel room the other day for an interview.
We expected Perrin ought to be a facsimile of — say, a Phil Silvers or a Joey Bishop — and that we ought to be pelted with gags fresh from the top of his head.
We found instead a short balding man with a barely audible voice and a face that falls into dour folds and if he had any gags with him they had been left in the hotel safe.
Perrin, it turns out, is one of those creative people who create for somebody else. He and his fellow trio of writers, George Balzer and Al Goldman, are the cooks in the Benny kitchen. They prepare but don’t partake of the fare.
As such, he seemed almost ill at ease among the extroverted performers who made up a troupe of nine CBS personalities who came here to stimulate public interest in the network’s new and returning fall shows.
21 Years With Benny

ONCE THE CONVERSATION settled in the groove of his own work for the Benny show and his relationship with the boss, the Perrin reserve gave way to a sort of glowing articulation. The eyes behind the Perrin spectacles began to twinkle.
Somebody asked him if he were the head man in the humor-writing quartet. “Whoever has the best idea," he smiled, “momentarily becomes the head man.”
Perrin and Balzer are at least chiefs in terms of service. They have both worked for Benny 21 years. Gordon and Goldman have been with him for 16.
“We’ve gotten accustomed to each other,” Perrin went on, “we feel like each other’s crutch.”
And Benny has worked so closely and satisfactorily with them, he said, he seems like one of the hired hands.
“We have no problems with Jack,” he said. “We’ve all been together for so long that we know what lines and situations fit his style of comedy and he leaves it all entirely to us.”
Not that they and the boss don’t have a difference [of] opinion now and then, but it’s never anything serious.
"I’ve seen us guys argue some point of a script for three days and finally come to an agreement,” he said. “Then Jack will walk in and say, ‘Fellows I think it ought to be the other way’.”
Secretary a Gem, He Says
HE and his cohorts do their work, Perrin said, in a windowless office of Benny’s suite of private offices in Beverly Hills. They average five days on each script although it can take longer on occasions.
They treasure Jeanette Barnes, who has been their secretary for 16 years. Miss Barnes is always on hand to transcribe every idea and line the quartet comes up with.
“Jennie has a fine car for the right gag,” he said. “One of us will develop a line then turn to her and say: ‘Jennie did you get that?’ and she’ll say: ‘No I didn’t think it was funny.’ And she’ll be right every time.”
Miss Barnes is frequently the arbiter of their differences. More so even than the boss.
“Jack will come in when we’re through, sometimes take a look at a script and decide he doesn’t like it,” Perrin said. “Then all of us will say: “Jack why don’t you go out and play golf for a while.’ He’ll go and when he gets back he’ll decide he likes the script after all.
Had Problems Only Once
PERRIN said he and his associates seldom have trouble writing a Benny script after all these years. But he can recall one hitch. This was the script that had Benny playing Tarzan to Carol Burnett’s Jane.
“Seems odd, doesn’t it, with a funny star like Carol to work with?” he mused. “But that was the trouble. The people and the situation were too good. We had the damnedest problem getting rolling with it.”
Perrin was a writer of vaudeville acts before he broke into broadcasting. His first assignment was with the old Phil Baker Show in tandem with writer Arthur Phillips. From there he went into his long association with Benny.

Ubiquitous Felix

Felix the Cat wasn’t just a cartoon character. He was a little gold mine for Pat Sullivan. People saw Felix on the screen. They wanted Felix stuff. Sullivan was ready to accommodate them thanks to a pile of licensing agreements.

But it was all over too soon for Felix. Sound cartoons took over theatres in the late ‘20s. Felix lagged behind. By the time some music and perfunctory noises were added to his cartoons, it was too late. Sullivan died in 1933.

Here’s a story from the Miami Herald of August 6, 1926, giving you an idea of how popular Felix was and what you could possess of Felix for your very own.

GLORIFYING A CAT SUCH AS THE FAMOUS FELIX
FELIX THE CAT, whose droll antics are laughed at by thousands of readers every Sunday in The Miami Herald and who also is featured in an animated cartoon released through Educational Exchanges Inc., originally was conceived from a black cat of the commonest alley variety. Pat Sullivan, originator and cartoonist of Felix, gives his wife full credit for first calling attention to the possibilities of drawing an animal rather than a human and starting him famous black cat known to millions as Felix the Cat.
“I had been drawing comic human characters in New York with more or less varied success,” Mr. Sullivan says. “One day when I was particularly low in spirits and lower still in finances, my wife came into the apartment and dropped a shabby half-starved cat on my lap.
“‘What’s that good for?’ I asked gruffly. ‘I know of nothing more useless than a black cat and besides luck’s been bad enough already!’
“‘That kitty may mean a lot,’ she informed me. ‘Everybody is drawing pictures of men and women—why don’t you feature an animal?’ And from that circumstance grew the conception of the popular Felix.”

Mr. Sullivan started making movie cartoons in October, 1919, for Famous Players. After two or three months they came to be known as “Feline Follies,” the principal character being called Felix. It was used in Paramount’s Screen Magazine until 1921 when this company discontinued releasing Short Features to devote its time to long productions. Then Mr Sullivan distributed his film as a state right feature with varying success, until it finally was taken up by Educational Film Exchanges Inc. and through them secured the great national distribution which it now enjoys.
FOR awhile he drew “Felix the Cat” comic strips for a British weekly. When its popularity grew more pronounced it was syndicated to American newspaper by King Feature Syndicate, which now holds the rights to the newspaper cartoons. Various companies here and abroad then started manufacturing Felix the Cat dolls and other souvenirs. On a recent trip to England, where his fame as creator of Felix was widely known, Mr. Sullivan was recognized everywhere as the artist who drew their national pet. He was Invited as honor guest to the annual kitten parade of the Cat Fanciers Association of England. Passengers aboard the ocean liner requested Mr Sullivan to make as souvenirs more than 200 drawings of their favorite.
Felix the Cat dolls were displayed recently in the most valuable window location in the world—Liggett's drug store in the Grand Central Terminal building on Forty-second street, New York City, as the initial feature of the big national exploitation campaign between Educational Film Exchanges Inc. and George Borgfeld & Co., New York City holders of the exclusive manufacturing privileges of the Felix dolls. The display was withdrawn only because orders for merchandise failed to keep up with the unprecedented demand which quickly depleted the entire stock. The Felix dolls now are being sold in practically every Rexall drug store in America and in addition are being handled by 2400 United Cigar stores throughout the United States.
In addition to the huge demand for Felix the Cat dolls, the tremendous popularity of Felix is indicated by the large number of other novelties now being marketed of the famed cartoon feline. There are Felix fabrics, Felix clothes for kiddies, Felix dolls and toys of wood leather and metal, Felix beauty patches, Felix postcards, Felix the Cat designs on nursery cups plates and jugs, Felix phone mouthpieces, small candy containers, buttons and footballs.
IN England and Ireland, Felix is every bit as popular as in America. When the Prince of Wales visited this country in the fall of 1924 with the British polo team. “Felix the Cat” served as the polo players’ mascot. When the Queen of England visited a great British exposition several years ago she returned with a giant model of Felix. In London Felix is featured in revues in masquerades and even popular songs are written of the cartoon character.
In a recent radio talk a speaker on movie subjects stated that an original Felix drawing autographed by Mr. Sullivan would be sent to anybody who would write the studios. Now one man is kept busy addressing envelopes and sending out drawings in answer to requests as fast as Mr. Sullivan can sign them.
The Sullivan Studios, 47 W Sixty-third street, are working overtime making cartoons for newspaper use and drawing the animated film cartoons released through Educational.

Octopus of Evil

The cartoon has few real gags and seems to be more of an experiment in movement. And the characters move very well for 1930.



Some joyful little fish are dancing around a treasure chest when suddenly...



The movement of the octopus is well done by Wilfred Jackson through this whole scene. The limbs thrash around trying to grab the fish.



The octopus blows bubbles in anger.



It runs, using the limbs as two sets of legs, four limbs in a “leg.”



Now it runs with each limb touching the ocean floor in time to the music. The animation is extreme smooth and way ahead of what was on the screen in the silent era just a couple of years before.



Devon Baxter did a fine analysis of this cartoon, which you can look at here.

Dem's Da Steaks Dat Prevail!

Wartime and immediate post-war meat shortages made for familiar gags (Bob and Ray were still doing them in the early ‘50s on radio). In What’s Buzzin’ Buzzard (1944), the Jimmy Durante buzzard gesticulates as he envisions biting in to “a big, thick juicy T-bone steak.” The steak fades in to the scene.



Just like one of those slides that was shoved into the projector at theatres, a title card slides across the steak.



The cartoon carries on. But as the iris closes another title card flashes on the screen.



“Ladies and gentlemen, just a moment, please!” shouts the voice of announcer John Wald. “Due to the numerous requests received in the last five minutes, we’re going to show you the steak again.” The title card slides back to reveal the steak as Scott Bradley’s orchestra plays “Auld Lang Syne.”



Ed Love, Ray Abrams and Preston Blair are the animators. The buzzard is not Jimmy Durante (whether it’s Jerry Mann, I don’t know).

TV's Horse Hysterics

The idea is completely ridiculous, but it turned out to be a success for six TV seasons.

People loved seeing Alan Young have a conversation with a horse.

Ridiculous it may have been but Young somehow made it believable. He was a nice, average guy who ended up in a situation that flustered and frustrated him. Adults could identify with it. And kids like horses, especially ones with a sense of humour.

The folksy TV writer for the Birmingham News got a chance to meet the cast of the show (except Ed) and milked two columns out of it. The first appeared September 13, 1962, the next on October 24th. The first is missing the last few words so I’m giving you what I think the gist of them was.

The show was, for the most part, centred around the horse and Young’s Wilbur Post. Poor Connie Hines was kind of the odd person out and I imagine she was happy to get the attention of a reporter.

Mr. Ed makes season's bow Sept. 27—Alan Young, too
BY TURNER JORDAN
News TV-radio editor
Alan Young has been asked a dozen times how it feels to play second fiddle to a horse, but when I was in his dressing room in Hollywood I had to pop the same question . . . “I love this horse . . . He's a dear,” he replied . . . MR. ED wasn't talking. He wasn’t around . . . But I saw his dressing room, too . . . Right down the alley from Alan's, a stall with plenty of hay.
MR. ED makes his season's premiere over WAPI-TV at 6:30 p.m. Thursday Sept. 27, a new day and new time . . .
“I used to think radio (he had a show in his own name) was hard but it was a dream compared to TV,” Young told me in the interview . . . “But this beats digging ditches, doesn't it? . . . The day starts at 7 a.m. and it seems like a long one, lasting until 7 p.m., but generally until 6:30 . . . We take three days to make an episode, but sometimes four.”
“I'm grateful to the kids,” the gracious Young continued, “for it's been a great help to have their interest in the MR. ED series . . . Parents have been drawn in, too, by the sharp sayings of the horse We have a time keeping him from 'talking' when he moves his lips and we can't stop him. . . . There are no wires, but mostly it's his reflexes from touches.”
MR. ED'S TRAINER is Les Hilton . . . “The horse lives up in San Fernando Valley . . . My love is Mr. Ed,” volunteered Alan, “at least one of them and certain people—my family—especially my daughter,” there's a son. too . . . “Mr. Ed is obedient." Young declared . . . Most horses are not intelligent apart from Ed. . . . 'Rocky' Lane does his voice.”
Alan said he had never been to Birmingham although he's been South . . . to New Orleans, but he has a sister who loves the South because it reminds her of England . . . He admitted that his Canadian accent comes out once in a while . . . “I’ve been here since 1945,” he explained, “and in Hollywood since 1946. . . . I was in New York for a year and that's the place to lose your accent like I did.”

“We have a blessing here,” Alan observed, “as we on the MR. ED set go home when others work every day . . . I'll tell you something. Arthur Lubin, who owns half the show is the director, is a secret nibbler. And when Mr. Ed gets hungry he heads for his stall and his hay.
“YOU DO A SCENE and you think it's done well, but one of the lights on the set flickers off and you have to do it all over again. Most of the time the actor goes along with what the director wants . . . If it’s a good show, you can put the tension in your pocket, but if it's humorous, it's fine . . . We don't have time for a star to show his temperament.
“With a new time and a new night, you push a little harder . . . For relaxation I go home, look at the TV . . . I get the TONIGHT SHOW for tomorrow, watch the news, learn my lines and generally fall asleep in my chair around 9 p.m.
“The day we were watching a MR. ED scene Ricki Starr was the guest star and a two or three minute segment was done over and over by this wrestler and ballet dancer (imagine that!) . . . It was with Connie Hines and Ann Skinner [sic], both of whom we met and also Larry Keating, the next door neighbor. So we didn't get an interview with MR. ED (it was his day off) but with the folks around him . . . And the talk with Young was especially pleasing, as was speaking with the other stars . . . Never cared for animal stories on screen or TV much, but since talking with Young and his folks. I'll be tuning in, especially the one in which Ricki [Starr appears].

Set of Mr. Ed characterized by warmth, Miss Hines says
BY TURNER JORDAN
News TV-radio editor
If Alan Young plays second fiddle to a horse, MR. ED, what does that make Connie Hines, who is Young’s TV wife? . . . Whatever it is she doesn’t mind it, she revealed when on the CBS junket to Atlanta . . . She loves the series, and has no immediate ambitions for any others, she vowed . . . . But, she added: “If you become a big enough TV personality, the movies want you . . . Naturally I’d want a part in movies if it was good. I don’t believe there's another couple on TV that have the warmth that's between Alan and I on MR. ED, she declared . . . There’s no tension on the set . . . Alan is the star but he’s just one of us and doesn’t push himself around . . . Ed makes it better than a situation comedy.”
Connie had a lot of praise, too, for the other couple on the show. Larry Keating and Edna Skinner . . . I can bear witness to how pleasant all the people are, for I visited the set while in Hollywood, and Connie remembered the day we were there . . . Keating was very helpful on our visit . . . And when we went to Young’s dressing room he was very cordial, as you may remember from the interview I had with him . . . MR. ED is on WAPI-TV Thursdays at 6:30 p.m.

LIKE ANOTHER TV editor there who had an aversion to talking animals I wasn’t much of a MR. ED fan until met all these people . . . And will have to confess that since then I've seen a few episodes and liked the program ... It has a better hour now (formerly 5:30 p.m. Sundays).
Connie is a native of Greensboro. N. C. . . . “I married when I was 17 and didn't know what 1 was doing,” she explained . . . “Then I moved to Jacksonville, Fla., where I started acting and grew up in an acting family . . . Then I went on to New York and then to Hollywood.
“Our show is a fantasy . . . You believe in the devotion between Alan and the horse . . . Ed adores Alan and his trainer . . . But Ed believes in himself . . . One day Ed had done a scene three times and the director wanted to do it over again ... But Ed thought three times was enough and refused to do it again and went back to his dressing room—I mean stall.
“WE HAVE JUST done a show called ‘The Horse Party’ and the producer and director had to run the actors off because they went into hysterics over action . . . Ed wanted a party, so all the fillies in the neighborhood were invited . . . They all came in funny looking hats and it was a scream! One day I had a call for 1 p.m. and thought that would be glorious . . . I could sleep late and enjoy it . . . But the phone rang at 10 a.m. and they said Ed was sick and couldn’t work, so I had to get up and go in earlier.” . . . Ed is 8 years old, she replied to one editor and another said a horse was old at 15, so Ed may be good for a few more years.
Some one asked how they made MR. ED talk and Connie said she was pledged to secrecy on that . . . But I volunteered that when I did my interview with Young he told me all about it . . . Connie was surprised. In case you don’t remember they punch him to make him move his lips and Rocky Lane, the actor, does his voice . . . Connie was astounded that I knew this and some one injected: “Read it first in The Birmingham News!”
CONNIE EXHIBITED a badly bruised right arm and said she had another bruise on her stomach which she suffered the Friday before she left for Miami and Atlanta . . . She also had an auto accident that same week and had a slight concussion and three stitches to show for it . . . The arm was from a scene where Young came in the door and they met headlong . . . When we left to come on the plane down South I warned the other members of the party this wasn't my week, but we made it.
MR. ED is going into its 13th show now, she said . . . It was scheduled for 26, “but we may go to 39,” Connie added . . . “We may also go to Japan for some segments.” . . . And TV editors conjectured at what all might take place on a trip like that.
Connie is another of the TV cuties this editor enjoyed meeting on his recent travels . . . As you interview these guys and dolls, you appreciate more seeing them on TV . . . And now that I've talked to Connie as I did with Young, Keating and Miss Skinner, I’ll enjoy watching Miss Hines more and more.