Original subtitles

Goose grease.

She's raring to go.

How come you all taking a steamboat for this, Miss Jeannie?

It's a picnic on Strawberry Island.

Where's your boy at?

He's meeting me at the landing.

Which one is it?

Mr. Stephen Foster.

That's all right.

That's all right.

That's all right.

I'm glad you approve, Uncle Joe.

When I'd rather listen to the man whistle than to hear Mark and Bird sing,

that man's all right.

Whoa.

Meet the Don River boat this evening, Uncle Joe. Yes, sir.

Enjoy yourself.

I will.

No, I haven't, Jane.

Tom!

Do you know where Stephen Foster is? He's not here yet.

Bye.

Why don't you come with us, Jane, and we'll look after you. Yes, do come,

Jane. Oh, that's right, nice of both of you, but two's company.

You'd better run along or you'll miss it yourself.

Come in, miss.

Can't you wait a little longer? I'm sorry.

not coming.

Oh, hello.

Hello, Jane.

Do you happen to remember that we were going to Strawberry Island this morning?

Strawberry Island?

Oh, of course I do.

Come on, we'd better hurry. Do you like to swim?

There she goes.

That's ridiculous.

I came here at 9.30. I haven't been sitting here five minutes. It can't be

more... Well,

that's incredible.

It doesn't make sense.

I thought I had it, but it's not right.

Thank you, my friend.

Go right ahead.

No, no, I'll try to forget it, and then it'll come to me just like that. Sure,

they do sometimes.

That ending isn't right yet.

You know...

I think the Negroes would finish it like this.

Why, that's right.

How did you know?

You forget I was brought up on Negro music.

I wish I'd been.

As a boy in Pittsburgh, I'd...

I heard just enough of it to want to hear more.

I had a colored nurse, you know.

Sometimes she'd take me down to their little church by the river.

I heard Sweet Cherry, Roll Jordan, all the rest.

There's nothing like them, is there?

No.

They have something all their own.

It's... Well, it's music from the heart.

From the heart of a simple people.

That's why it moves you like it does.

And by Jingo, it's the only real American contribution to music.

I wonder... Wonder what?

Why no one's taken the trouble to write it down?

To develop the material and compose original music in the same mood?

Well, why don't you, Stephen?

Why don't I?

Well... Well, why don't I?

You can, I'm sure.

You have a wonderful feeling for it.

If I do, it'll be your fault.

You'll have to take the blame for it.

Because you'll be the music.

You'll be all the songs I'll ever write.

Without you, I don't think I could write them.

I think they just... Well, they just die.

Then we mustn't let them die.

Hello, Anne.

Hello, Stephen.

Did you have a pleasant day? Oh, wonderful.

Anne, you'll never know what this visit has meant to me. And to us, Stephen.

This was a lonely house until you came down here. I have never been as happy in

my life as I am right this minute. May I guess why?

Not yet.

Very well. If anyone asks me, I don't... No, nothing.

There's a letter for you over on the piano.

Thanks. Yes, eh? It's for Mr. Stephen. Mr. Stephen, Dr. McDowell is calling.

He say, can he see you alone?

Show him in. Yes, ma'am. Jane's father to see you.

My, my.

Good luck, my dear.

Thanks.

Hello, Dr. McDowell.

Mr. Foster, I've been informed that you took my daughter to a Riverfront saloon

this morning. Yes, sir, I did.

I'm sorry, I...

I just didn't stop to think.

In Kentucky, Mr. Foster, we don't jeopardize a lady's reputation and say

we didn't stop to think. You're quite right, sir.

I was looking for a piano.

I had a tune in my head.

Do you completely lose your mind when you get a tune in your head?

It looks that way, doesn't it? It certainly does.

Dr. McDowell, I wouldn't be the means of harming your daughter's reputation for

anything on this earth.

You see, I love her.

Very deeply.

And I...

I hope to marry her.

Just how do you propose to support a wife?

Well, I hope to write music, popular songs.

Mr. Foster, I came over here with the idea of chastising a man.

I shan't waste my time on a fool.

This may be a dangerous thing for me to say under the circumstances, but music

is not written by imbeciles, sir.

I'm not talking about writing it.

I'm talking about trying to support my daughter on what you can sell it for.

I'll admit that's a problem.

The point I'm driving at, young man, is that you'll never be able to do it with

a penny whistle.

Dr. McDowell, I wouldn't think of trying to marry your daughter unless I could

take care of her.

And if I can't do it with a penny whistle, I'll do it some other way.

Good. I'll hold you to that.

You have one qualification as a son-in-law that appeals to me.

A sense of humor.

But you'll need more than that to support a wife.

The almost inevitable consequences.

Good day, my boy.

So, you have forgotten your old music teacher, going to pass right by without

a word. No, to tell you the truth, I didn't know where I was. I was sort

of... I know, I know.

Wool gathering, as usual.

Come in, have a talk. No, no, I don't dare, Henry. I just got back from

Louisville, and the family's expecting me.

Tell me, how's your music going?

I've really got my feet on the ground at last, Henry.

I know what I want to do.

I may surprise you someday, you old knuckle-rapper.

Nothing you were doing music would surprise me, Steve.

Thanks, Henry. I'll see you soon.

As you know, Stephen, your two brothers have been working since they left

school. You alone have done nothing towards supporting yourself.

And now, owing to my stupidity... You are not stupid, William. Mother, mother,

the fact remains that we were comfortably off before. And I was a fool

to risk money at my age on a new venture.

Well, now you understand the situation, Stephen.

Stephen! Yes, sir. Yes, sir, of course. What is it?

Sell me down the river. He hasn't even been listening.

Why, I've been drinking in every word. Well, drink in this. Morrison and I will

help look after father and mother, but you're going to do your share, too. We

have a job for you, and you're going to work.

Work? Look, he's actually turning pale.

Stop it, both of you.

Stephen will be only too glad to do his share.

Henry's made arrangements with a shipping firm in Cincinnati.

It's a splendid position at $7 a week.

$7 a week?

That's a temptation, but no thank you. You won't take the job?

The answer is no.

You can't mean that. I do mean it, Father.

And here is why.

What's this?

Oh, Susanna.

Oh, what?

It's a song I've written. And it's surprisingly good.

Stephen, it's high time you stopped dreaming and came down to earth. I'm

sorry, Father, but I'd rather float away on wings of song. I always know it. He's

mad. Mad as a march hare. You may be right.

But it's a practical madness.

Practical? I intend to make a great deal of money out of my ravings. By selling

songs? Mother, you're going to get a pearl necklace.

Father, you get a fine team of horses. And you boys... Are you imbecile? The

world is full of starving musicians.

Why, if that thing was any good, you wouldn't know how to sell it.

I'll make it a diamond necklace, mother. Did you hear your mother's question?

Like blacks or bays, father.

And I'll give you sets of anything, brother.

Come in.

The man out there wants to see you, sir. What does he want?

He wants to sell you a song.

Throw him out.

Yes.

Hey, you can't go in there.

Say, what is this?

Mr. Christie, I just had to see you. How dare you come in my dressing room?

Remove yourself.

Christie, shall I get the police?

Oh, I'll tend to this little matter.

Again, I say, withdraw.

I've written a song that should sweep the country. And it's made to order for

you, Mr. Christie. You don't have to tell me that, young man.

For ten years, for ten years, I've held audiences to the hollow of my hand.

With any song I care to sing.

Well, then why not make your own songs famous?

I do not write songs.

Well, buy mine.

Buy it outright. Put your own name on it. Take every cent it makes.

One song more or less is nothing in the life of E.P. Christie.

A word with you, young man.

Now, here's my thought.

I am gifted.

Does that allow me to become completely heartless?

The world calls me an artist.

Must I then ignore the struggling... One moment, please.

In short, I will consider your little song.

Have you a copy?

Right here.

$15.

$15? Well, there's nothing here.

Absolutely nothing.

I'll have to put the Oscar Mizzou in it.

Well, I wouldn't think of selling it for that. Well, then keep it by all means.

At least I've made a charitable gesture.

The gesture of a pickpocket.

I'm a patient man, so I will explain further to you, my poor young friend.

Do you know that when I walk in the park, songwriters actually fall upon me

from the trees?

Some of them even offer me money to present the pitiful endeavors to an

audience.

Well, how do they make a living?

The answer is brief and to the point. They don't.

I'll take the $15.

Right.

are my friend, and good luck.

Oh,

it

rained so hard that day I left.

The weather, it was dry.

The sun so hot I froze to death. Susanna, don't you cry.

Susanna, don't you cry for me.

I've come from Alabama with my banjo on my knee.

Oh, I had a dream the other night when everything was still.

I thought I saw Susanna, dear, coming down the hill.

The buckwheat cake was in her mouth. The tear was in her eye.

Susanna,

don't you cry.

Susanna, don't you cry for me.

I've come from Alabama with my banjo on my knee.

Susanna, don't you cry.

Whistle something else, anything else.

What's the matter with you? That's a dinger of a song.

The band was playing it last Saturday at the Camptown Races.

Supper is ready, Mr. Foster.

No, thanks. Not today. Some other time.

Are you going to stop sleeping, too?

Your week was up Wednesday.

Here. Why, Mr. Foster, this is gold.

It's worth much more than... It's a mere detail. Don't mention it. Don't mention

it. Mr. Foster!

Give me that much whiskey.

I said whiskey.

That's what you'll get.

Dry or bourbon?

Suit yourself.

Nice little shot, brother.

Did you bring a friend with you?

No. What'll I do with the remains?

In the river.

Well, that's a pleasant way of going.

Gentlemen, gentlemen, a toast.

A toast to the fair lady to whom I've dedicated my latest and greatest

composition. I give you Susanna.

Susanna!

Ah, my young friend from Pittsburgh.

I've been looking for you. I've been looking for you, you thief.

There's a fellow out here who wants to see you.

Who is it?

Percy, the big minstrel man.

Tell him I'm not in.

Oh, tell him yourself.

He's paid you fine. Give it back to him.

Hello.

You got a good punch, you know it?

Not good enough. You can still talk.

But why? What did I ever do to you?

Gave me $15 for a song you knew would make a fortune.

Listen, my boy.

Nobody, and I repeat, nobody can tell whether a song will hit or not.

I paid $15 for an unknown song written by an unknown songwriter.

It happened to go over big.

Why blame me?

As a matter of fact, I've been looking for you for six months.

I think we ought to get together. You write songs, I sing them.

Come on, let's get out of here.

Mabon, you were born under a lucky star.

You are now the protege of E.P. Christie.

Sunday morning, you'll shake the dust of Cincinnati from your feet as a member of

Christie's world-renowned Ethiopian entertainers.

Ah, my good man, here are two passes for Thursday matinee.

Enjoy yourself and tell your friends.

And speak of our wives, Mr. Tambo, how is that darling wife of yours,

Esmerella? Mr. Larkin, she had an accident.

Your wife had an accident? I'm sorry to hear it. Well, tell me what happened.

She was standing in the center of a railroad track.

Stay in the center of the track?

Well, that's too bad. What happened then? She wouldn't move.

She wouldn't move. I looked up the track and there was a train approaching.

A train doing what?

The train was reproaching. No, no, my boy. It wasn't reproaching. You mean the

train was approaching.

She wouldn't move.

She wouldn't move. Everybody got excited.

Everybody got excited. I got excited. You got excited. Engineer got excited.

Engineer got excited. Engineer got so excited he rang the whistle and he blew

the bell. He did what? He rang the whistle and he blew the bell.

No. You mean he blew the bell and rang the whistle.

Train hit my poor old wife. Oh, the train hit your wife. Then what happened?

She moved.

Ladies and gentlemen, we will conclude this part of the entertainment with a

brand new song sung here in Chicago for the first time on any stage by myself.

The camp town ladies sing their song. Do-da, do-da. The camp town race back

five miles long. Oh, do-da-day.

I come down down with my hat caved in. Do-da, do-da. I go back home with a

pocket full of tin.

Oh, do-da-day.

Wine to run all night.

Wine to run all day.

I bet my money on the bobtail night. Somebody bet on the bay.

The long-tailed filly and the big black hawk. Do-da, do-da. They fly the track

and they both cut across.

horse sticking in a big mud hole can't touch bottom with a 10-foot pole

Fine openings for the audience, sir.

Chicago's always appreciated me, Wilson.

Enter. Ah, there, my friend.

The little song wasn't altogether bad. They seemed to like it. Look, it's me,

Stephen Forster. Come out of it, will you?

I failed to understand you.

Well, try to understand this.

Camptown Races is a hit.

It's my song. I wrote it. And I tell you again that this one is even better. Make

it the first number in the oleo. Is that the number you played for me the other

day? Yes.

Then for the 50th time, I tell you it's mush.

Look, Christy, I know you gave me a job just to get my songs. That's all right.

I want the public to hear them, but I want all of them stung.

Not just the ones with Oscar Mazzola. My boy, you're hip on that song.

Why, even I couldn't make him like it. Well, then let me sing it. Let you sing

it. Let you sing it.

If there's anything I hate in a man, it's an inflated ego.

I shall try to forget that you ever utter such bombastic nonsense.

Oh.

Olio on stage for the first number of the Olio.

You say in Camptown Race is magnificently, sir.

To you, to the audience, perhaps.

But to me, the true artist is his own severest critic.

As you say, sir.

The strain of creating a new number has left me slightly... Yes, yes, sir, yes.

Wilson, I'm weary.

Call me in time for my entrance.

Yes, sir.

Yes, yes, yes, yes. What is it? Am I on?

No, not yet.

Listen.

Do let him sing that song.

Why don't you ask me? I strangle him when he comes home.

By virtue of the power and authority vested in me as justice of the peace and

in accordance with the statutes of this state, I pronounce you husband and wife.

Is you mad?

Yes, Uncle Joe.

Your pa's going to skin me alive, honey, but I don't care, just as long as you're

happy. Oh, we'll never forget what you've done for us, never.

Shucks, I ain't done nothing, honey.

Here's the tickets for the steamboat, Mr. Steve.

I'll put your bags aboard, and here's the change from the money.

Oh, you keep it, Joe.

No, Mr. Stephen, thank you.

But someday, just write me that song like you promised.

He won't forget. I'll see to that. Goodbye, Uncle Joe. Goodbye.

Goodbye, you old precious.

Goodbye, chillin'.

Still

frightened? Just breathless.

When do we get to Pittsburgh?

Ten o'clock in the morning.

Guess where we're going after Pittsburgh?

New York.

But doesn't that take a lot of money?

Did I forget to tell you, darling, that I'm a success?

I guess I forgot to ask. Oh, well, I am, even beyond my own wildest dreams. I've

made the banjo ring.

Ring.

Ring the banjo.

That's the words I need.

Ring.

Ring the banjo.

Darling, will you do something for me?

Why, I shouldn't be surprised. Go up on deck and look at the moon for just ten

minutes, and I'll meet you up there. Go alone?

Yeah, just for ten minutes, darling.

I've got the chorus to my new song, and I want to jot it down before I forget

it. Well, of course, David. All right. Thanks, darling.

do me a favor? Something you want played? Yes, this.

What is it? It's a song I've just finished, and I'd like to hear it.

Ask the boys to play it, and I'll buy them all a drink. Well, we'll try.

I'll lead them. May I borrow your fiddle? Go right ahead.

I wonder if you'd use the banjos on this?

I like that good old song.

Come again, my true love, nowhere you've been so long.

Ring, ring the banjo.

I guess, song so much, I'm going to wake up my wife and sing it for her.

Jeannie.

Darling.

I'm awfully sorry.

I should be hit on the head and thrown overboard.

I wanted to hear the new song.

One thing led to another. You know how it is.

Please go away.

I like that.

What is it?

I don't know.

That is, it just came to me looking at the moonlight in your hair.

Darling, can you ever forgive me?

Oh, how can I help myself?

I dream of Jeannie with the light brown hair.

Born like a vapor on the summer

air.

I see her tripping where the bright streams play.

Happy as the daisies that...

Many were the wild notes her merry voice would pour.

The soft summer air.

Henry,

I was afraid you'd gone back to Pittsburgh.

It's nice to see you. Oh, you are going to see a lot of me from now on, Stephen.

I'm opening a branch on 14th Street. Oh, that's wonderful.

The last ring is always out to you. Thanks.

I enjoyed the song very much.

Oh, that?

That's just a little song I wrote for this girl of mine.

I'm working on something really important now. I'll show it to you

someday. Excuse me, darling.

What did he mean by something really important?

It's a suite for piano and string quartet. He's been working on it for

some time. A suite?

Don't you approve?

I don't know.

Stephen can write American folk songs.

But classical composition...

needs another sort of training.

I don't want to see a first-class Stephen Foster turn into a Tensory

Beethoven.

Good night. I had a very pleasant evening. I had a lovely time.

Good night. Thank you. Good night.

Mrs. Foster, I have a very important question to ask you.

Do you love your husband?

Now that you ask me, yes, I think I do.

Well, my dear, get ready to admire him.

Because when the suite is performed, he'll be a very celebrated man.

World famous.

Stephen, dear, don't you think you're just a little over-celebrated now?

Oh, now, darling, just a few drinks with my guests.

A few?

Don't worry.

No more parties until the suite is finished.

Stephen, darling.

Yes?

I have a surprise for you, too.

Of course, it isn't as wonderful as a sweet, but then... What is it?

I don't know, really.

It might be a boy.

On the other hand, it might be a girl.

You don't mean that.

Why, Jeannie, I... Oh.

What are we going to do for a nursery?

And we'll have to have a nurse.

You're not joking.

Of course I'm not.

Well, then you shouldn't be on your feet like this. Oh, Stephen, Stephen, stop.

Poor Stephen.

Fathers have such a dreadful time.

Yeah, I suppose after all, you're the one who should be upset.

Upset? Why?

Don't you think it will make me happy to bear your son?

I'm proud to.

Stephen Foster's son.

I like the sound of that.

I hope I'm worthy of it.

Why are you leaving? I never attend my friend's funeral.

Is it as bad as that?

Steve, stick to what you know how to do best.

Ah, come on. Don't take it so hard. Let's go and search for the silver

lining. I think you'll find it in Yonder Saloon. No, no. I can't.

I must go home. Jeannie's waiting.

But you can't go home looking like Hamlet's ghost. Come on. No, I can't.

Oh, come on. Cheer up. Come on.

Has Mr.

Foster come in yet?

No. She's worried about him.

And in her present condition, that can't fail to have a bad effect.

Doctor, I think you'd better come in.

Let me know as soon as he comes in.

Yes.

Thank you, Mr. Cleaver. Is she all right?

As well as can be expected. Don't stay more than five minutes.

She's very weak.

If I ever get my hands on that husband of hers, I'll wring his neck.

Dear?

He... He hasn't come in yet.

He's all right, my dear. I'm sure of it.

Did they like his music?

Well... Tell me.

No.

So that's it.

Find him, Henry.

Excuse me. Have you seen Stephen Foster?

Who? Stephen Foster.

He might have come in with Christie, the minstrel man.

Oh, them? Yes. They're in the back room.

Thank you.

I don't know what to say.

Jeannie, I'll never do anything like that again.

I promise.

Don't make promises you may not be able to keep.

I'll keep this one if it's the last thing I ever do.

Why don't you go and introduce yourself to your daughter?

Hello.

She spoke to me.

She did not.

She did. I heard her distinctly.

She said, Daddy, you've got circles under your eyes.

I'm glad to see you. And her right straight over to the ground.

Oh, Jane,

she has your eye.

Let me admit, I was terribly mistaken about you, Stephen. You aren't mistaken,

sir. It's still a penny whistle. Well, the whole world's listening to it at any

rate. Look, Andrew.

Isn't she sweet?

Let me have it. Careful.

Yeah, it's better.

Well,

most tells me old Joe is down with the misery. Yes, dear, Joe's very sick.

He's hoping you'll come and see him. Oh, I didn't realize it was serious. We'll

go right away. Stephen!

I was glad you'd come home, Miss Jeannie.

Mighty glad.

You'll excuse me for not driving to the landing for you.

Of course, Uncle Joe.

Mose drove very nicely.

Damn Mose.

He couldn't drive a broke-down pony.

That's what frets me most.

Leaving my team in carriage to that shiftless moose.

What's the matter with you, Uncle Joe?

I's tired, Mr. Steve.

Bone tired.

What you need is a good rest.

Yes, that's what I'm going to get, I reckon.

The voices talk about that here lately.

What voices?

I can't rightly say.

Just voices.

They talk when I lay here looking at the fire.

Mr. Steve, you ever write that song for me like you promised?

Of course he did, Uncle Joe.

Let me hear how it goes.

Whistle it, Mr. Steve.

Tomorrow, Uncle Joe, you're too tired now.

Never too tired to hear you whistle.

Thank you.

Let's go.

Daddy!

Daddy? Yes, dear?

What are the little bugs for?

Those are supposed to be music.

Music? They don't look like music.

Well, I hope they sound like music.

Sing me a song, Daddy.

All right.

Here's a new one.

I don't like new ones.

Oh, I see. You want to sing.

No, both.

All right. What will it be?

Okatucky Home.

All right.

The pulse, please.

Go on writing songs, Mr. Foster.

What, don't I get in? Afraid not.

What's wrong?

Oh, your eyes aren't so good.

They're good enough to shoot with.

It isn't my eyes.

What is the matter with me?

This.

Serious?

Well, walk.

Don't run.

Take your time going upstairs.

Don't try to lift anything heavy. And don't get excited.

Next.

You know, I've never seen Stevie so cheerful.

Do you think so? Yes.

I wonder.

Mr. Foster, may I remind you that you haven't asked me to dance this evening?

Well, you and Henry were doing so well, it would have been a shame to interrupt.

Why is it so few men like to dance with their wives?

That's because they haven't as lovely wives as I have.

Now my evening has spoiled.

Ah, greetings and salutations.

Madame, my salute to beauty.

And Stephen, my respect to genius.

And Kleber, my pity for a mental void and a foul disposition.

Don't waste your time pitying me, you blood traitor.

Stephen, I've just arranged with the officer leader to pay your tribute. Oh,

no, no, Chris. Yes, I must, really.

Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure and honor to present you this

evening America's troubadour composer, the one and only Stephen Foster.

the orchestra will play a medley of his greatest compositions.

Hey, hey, wait a minute.

There's a war on.

Sit down.

Keep still.

That's a rebel song.

I come from Alabama.

It's a rebel song.

He's right. All that band's songs are about the South. I don't want to hear

them.

Yes, deeply.

Then you're a filthy traitor.

Stop it, Kate. Do you hear me? Yes.

Sound asleep.

Mustn't sleep.

Just kiss her goodbye.

Are you all packed, Nana?

Yes, ma'am.

I ordered a cab for you.

Oh, thank you, Stephen.

Will you write to me now, then?

Just to let me know how Marion's getting on.

Of course I will.

Tell your father I'm sorry I made a mess of things after all.

Stephen, we have Marion to think of now.

I'd be willing to try again, but... What good would it do?

I'd only promise him to do the same things all over again.

I guess there's nothing more to say.

Except... I love you.

I'm losing my whole world.

Oh, Stephen.

Why can't you conquer this one weakness?

Why must any of us be what we are?

I'm ready, Mother.

Are you, darling?

It's cold out. I think you'd better get her one and tip it out of the bag. Yes,

Mrs. Foster.

Where's your hat and coat, Daddy?

I won't be needing them.

But Mother says it's cold.

I'm not going with you, darling.

But we're going to Okatucky home.

Mother, Daddy says he's not coming with us.

Come here, Rabbit.

Daddy can't go with you.

He's got to stay here and rattle out more songs.

But I don't want to go if you're not going.

Oh, of course I'm going with you, darling.

But not right away.

Later on.

And will you bring the songs with you so I can sing them?

Of course I will.

When will you bring them? Tomorrow?

Maybe tomorrow.

It's time to go, darling.

For a ride on the ferry boat.

For a ride on the steam cars.

Goodbye, darling.

Goodbye, Daddy.

Your ferry.

Goodbye, Steve.

Thank you.

Hello, Steve.

Hello, Chris.

Sit down, sit down.

Will you have a drink? I don't care if I do. A little lager beer.

Jim, a lager for my friend.

Well, how are you, Chris? Fine, Steve.

What are you doing here?

I might ask the same question of you. What are you doing here?

I work here.

Handsome wages, delightful surroundings, and the liquor's passable.

I heard you were in Europe.

I just returned.

No doubt you heard of my tour?

No. A triumph.

I appeared before all the crown heads of Europe.

As my friend Queen Victoria put it, she said, Christy, you have the real Oscar

Mazula.

I can just hear it saying.

Steve, what's wrong? What's happened to you?

I don't know.

I guess I just don't have it anymore.

Where's your wife?

That's a woman for you. No, no, Chris, you're wrong.

She should have left me long before she did.

The way I treated her.

She and the little girl went back to her family about two years ago.

And ever since then... Does she know about

this?

You think I'd go crying to her?

Steve, look, I've got plenty of money. There was all a lot of bunk about the

crown heirs of Europe, but we did pack them in. Now, how much can I advance

you? No, please, thanks.

But, Steve, I owe it to you.

After all, look what your songs have done for me. I don't want money, Chris.

I'd like to hear my songs sung again as they used to be.

And I'd like to be able to write one.

Above all, I'd like to...

But if I can't, I'm better off forgotten.

Ah, come on, son. It can't be as bad as all that. No, no, Chris. I'm not

fooling. Please go and forget me.

Steve, listen. Please go, Chris. Please.

All right.

But if you ever need anything, you know where to find me.

Yeah, I know, Chris.

Shot arrived. Double.

Yeah.

Got it for you.

Oh, thanks.

Ambrose. What day is this?

22nd.

22nd. Thanks.

September.

Mrs. Foster, please. Mr. Cleaver calling.

Oh, yes. Mrs. Foster's waiting for you in the parlor, sir. Thank you.

Gee, my dear. Henry, where is he?

I went to his room, but he wasn't there.

Your letter was, though, so he must know you're coming.

What'll I do if he doesn't come?

We'll go to him.

Tell me about him.

In your letter, you said he was ill.

Yes, but it's more than physical.

He has gone to pieces, Jeannie.

He has nothing.

Nothing. I don't mean money.

He has become a shell since you left.

I had no idea that he has friends.

He won't see them.

He won't take any help.

I beg your pardon. Mr. Stephen Foster in the lobby.

Bring him here.

Yes, ma'am. I'll slip out this way.

How's Marion?

She's fine.

She's grown so you wouldn't know her.

She looks more like you every day, Stephen.

Poor child.

You don't look well, Stephen.

Oh, overworked, I suppose.

Publishers after me.

You know how it is.

Shall we sit down?

How long are you going to stay in New York?

How long do you want me to stay?

Do I want you?

But I thought you were on your way to Boston.

There's no hurry.

I'm afraid I won't be able to see you as much as I'd like to.

My new songs are keeping me busy.

I'd like to hear them.

Of course.

I... You know I'm lying.

I haven't written a song that's worth anything for months.

For years, really.

Not since you left.

I'm lying too, Stephen.

I'm not going to Boston.

I've come back to you, if you'll have me.

You know, Jeannie, there's no sense in it.

I'm no better than I was.

Worse, really.

Because now I'm a failure.

I don't believe that.

I do believe in you, Stephen.

All I'm asking you to do is try.

Try, Stephen.

You can do it, I know.

If you think I can.

Come in.

Good morning, Steve.

I saw your friend Christy this morning.

He's holding a place in his show for the new Foster song when it's written.

If it's written.

It will be, won't it?

I don't think I can do it, Jeannie. I've tried as hard as I know how.

Listen, Stephen.

Try to understand.

Nothing's changed in you, really.

You're still Stephen Foster.

It was Stephen Foster who told me long ago he wanted to write the music about

the South.

Remember, Stephen, the day we missed the picnic boat and went off by ourselves?

Remember down on the river?

Leave me alone for a while.

audience, boss. It's a sellout. And you're the muttonhead who said New York

wouldn't come to hear me sing a Stephen Foster song.

Well, I was wrong. I admit it. I thought the war would stop. My boy, E.P.

Christie could sing Marching Through Georgia and that's a lantern make them

like it.

Ah, Mrs. Foster.

Good evening. A truly great occasion.

Yes, of course.

It must go well, Mr. Christie. Don't worry, Mr. Foster. Everything is in my

hands. Where's Stephen?

Oh, I was so fidgety I was afraid I'd make him that way, too, so I left him to

dress. He's joining us here. Fine.

Let's go in.

Box A for Mrs. Foster.

And party.

And have the usher show Mr. Foster the box when he arrives.

Yes, sir.

So he thinks he's going to sing a southern song, does he?

He'll find out. Come on. Let's go in.

Come in.

There's your shaving water, Mr. Foster. That's fine, Ambrose. Set it right down

there. It ain't very hot. This old bowl's kind of cracked. Wouldn't stand a

lot of heat. That's all right. Mrs. Foster says your song's gonna go over

big tonight.

I hope she's right.

Look, Ambrose, has your father got a razor strap? Yeah, stopped me with it

yesterday. I'd like to borrow it. Sure, I'll get it. All right, thanks.

I guess Mr. Fork must have dropped his shaving water. I'll see.

Gentlemen, be seated.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, our old friend Romulus will do his famous

specialty dance.

Boys, it's definitely changed. Has Mr. Foster come yet? I haven't seen him, Mr.

Christie.

Stephen hasn't come yet? No, not yet.

I'm glad. I'm going to stop.

The doctor sent me.

Mr. Foster's had an accident. You better come quick. Come on. Come on this way.

Heart attack. And he cut himself badly when he fell. Bring the stretcher in.

Yes, doctor.

Dr. Howard.

Are you Mr. Foster? Yes. He's been asking for you. You may go in.

Peter.

I'm sorry I missed the show.

Did they like my song?

They loved it.

My boy, I'd give them the old Oscar Missoula.

They lapped it up, too.

Five encores.

Thanks, Chris.

You always did sing my songs better than anyone else.

Our songs.

I'm sorry, Jeannie.

It just seems something always happens.

had intended at this time to present for you a brand new ballad written by

America's own favorite composer, Mr. Stephen C.

Foster. Mr.

Foster was to have been here tonight, but unfortunately, he

cannot be present.

This was to have been

His evening of triumph.

Instead, it has become his memorial.

For Stephen Foster is dead.

He left us his new song.

A song that will endure long after the war between the North and South has been

forgotten.

A song he wrote for all the American people.

With your leave and permission, I'd like to sing it for you.

Way down upon the Suwannee River

Far, far away

is turning.