Best broadcasts of 1939-40 (1940)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

IN THE FOG Doctor. — Well (With decision ) You! Hand me that bag! Hurry! Zeke. — ( Tensely ) Aye, captain. Sound. — Rattle of bag. Doctor. — Open it ! Sound. — Rattle of instruments as bag is opened and rummaged through. Doctor. — All right, now lend me a hand with these retractors. Draw back on them when I tell you to. Hold it ! Sound. — Deep breathing, tensely . . . on-mike. Eben. — How is he, mister ? Doctor. — More retraction; pull back a bit more. Hold it! Eben. — Bad, ain’t he? Doctor. — Bad enough. But the bullet didn’t touch any lung tissue so far as I can see right now. All I can do is plug the wound. I’ve never seen anything like it! Eben. — Y’er young. Lot’s o’ things you never seen. Doctor. — Pass me that cotton, please. Eben. — ( Humbly ) Aye, doctor. Doctor. — (Pause . . . deep breath) There. So much for that. Now, then, give me a hand here. Zeke. — (Suspiciously) What fer? Doctor. — We’ve got to move this man! We’ve got to get him to a hospital for treatment, a thorough cleansing of that wound, irrigation. I’ve done all I can for him here. Zeke. — I reckon he’ll be all right, ’thout no hospital. Doctor. — Do you realize how badly this man is hurt ? Eben. — He won’t bleed to death, will he ? Doctor. — I don’t think so. Not with that plug in there. But . . . Zeke. — All right then. (A dismissal) We’re much obliged to ye. Doctor. — But I tell you that man is dangerously wounded ! Zeke. — Reckon he’ll pull through, now, thanks be to you. 27