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.
Juano Hernandez and Rose McClendon in the mar- velous "John Henry" Program—every Sunday eve- ning over the Columbia network. (Center picture) Seorgea Backus of the Crime Club programs. Johnny Marvin whose Oklahoma drawl is real. He belongs to NBC. (Immediately opposite on the other page) Mae Questel looks, acts, sings like and, in fact, actually is Betty Boop. LET'S GOSSIP ABOUT YOUR FAVORITES NOT long ago, two dusky porters at the Columbia Studios in New York carried a specially selected watermelon into a broadcast chamber. The show of the moment was a crime drama. During the first twenty minutes, the watermelon lay undisturbed on a table near a mike. The story sped ahead. A man was about to be killed. A dagger in the heart was to do the trick. The continuity came to the climax where the hero killed the villain. A sound man lifted a steel knife off the table beside the watermelon. "Die, you dog!" screamed an actor. The knife plunged into the green rind, once—twice. Thud . . . thud! "There! I've done it. Now you're finished," the actor cried. And the play went on to its end. And the audience filed out. The porters took the watermelon carefully to the basement and put it on ice. ThAT cute word, "Woof," still gets announcers into hot water. Sound engineers have adopted it, you know, for the purpose of testing their mikes. The other night, Bill Schudt was handling a dance band broadcast. The mike was at the edge of the dance floor. Oblivious of 14 his surroundings, Bill went to it and said, "Woof, woof, woof!" In a trice, a dozen dancers were gathered close, going "bow-wow-wow" at him. PfflL COOK is back. Remember the Quaker Oats man who made "Okay, Colonel" famous? He is on the air for NBC doing a complete circus sideshow. Out of his own mouth come the words of fifteen characters. Every- thing in the circus but the peanuts and pink lemonade. M R. AND MRS. SETH PARKER recently celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary at their home in Maine —but not the Seth and Ma Parker that you know about. When Phillips H. Lord created the radio character he thought he had a name all his own. Now he finds that a real Seth lives in Durham, Maine, not so many miles from Jonesport, the scene of his radio dramas. Bagpipes are a nuisance. Whenever one is needed for a radio show, it has to be put in a padded cell. Really. Bagpipe tones, it seems, just can't be modest. They've got to shriek or not at all. Therefore the padded cells.