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fed up with the everyday grind, tired out by the dull routine, you want to get away from it all. We offer you escape. Escape designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. You are crouched in the middle of an immense hurricane. Houses, animals, trees sweeping past you. And you suddenly realize that you've tampered with the universe that you're bringing about the destruction of the world. Tonight we escape to a placid English village and the presence of an equally placid little man who one day shook the world, as H.G. wells told it in his delightful and famous story, the man who Could Work Miracles. Now, I might say right in the beginning that I ain't the kind of chap who has a naturally argumentative disposition. Meaning the kind who's always engaging in hostile discussions with perfect strangers. Quite the contrary. I'm a reasonable man who always takes proper thought before he speaks, and one who has due respect for scientific truth. Why, I ain't never opened my mouth to utter a word that wasn't a pure a hundiluted a fact. That's what you say. Howsoever, when a man of inferior intellect such as Toddy Bemis has showed himself to be more than once, when a man like that insists upon airing his ridiculous opinions in a public place such as the Long Dragon Bar, then I've got no choice but to confound him with the superior knowledge which I possesses. That may be well and good, perhaps, but it's only what you say. On the contrary, Mr. Beamish. The statements which I have just made are such as might come from any intelligent human being with a true knowledge of scientific principle, which same can't be said for some of us here at this bar. So you say. That's right. So I say. And if you can't contribute nothing but the same three words to this discussion, I will thank you to admit that you are defeated and shut your mouth. Well, now, Mr. Fothering. Easy, lads. I appeal to you. Easy does it. I appeal to you, Constable, when I'm only trying to enlighten the man from the bog of ignorance he's a floundering in. And he keeps coming up with his infernal. So you say. Well, I'm a wasting my words, that's all. If the pints are stout and I'll float across this by the way words do, why, then I'd have been retiring years ago. Quite right, Miss Bridges. I'll have another. The same, if you don't mind. Let's see, that was a pint of bitter, wasn't it? By all rights, Toddy Beamish, I shouldn't be wasting me time on you. But out of the goodness of my heart, I'll do it anyhow. Suit yourself. Now, let's take, for example, that pint of ale that you're holding in your hand. It's pretty nigh empty. I paid for the last one. All right. Now, suppose, for instance, if that ale was to turn into wine. I never cared much for wine. Always liked ale back. Now, if that was to turn into wine, then you'd have a miracle. So you say. So anybody says. Perhaps you ain't even aware of the proper definition of what a miracle is, Mr. Beamish. Well, some miracles is one kind, and some is another. If anybody left so much as twopence on the bar as a gratuity for my services, that would be a miracle. All right. Be that as it may, Ms. Bridges. But a miracle ain't of one kind or another. A true miracle is something contrariwise to the course of nature done by the power of will. So you say something. What couldn't happen without being specially willed to happen? And miracles ain't possible. Easy, lad. Easy now. Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say they ain't. It's your ignorance that's talking. Look, you see that lamp sitting there on the end of the bar, burning as bright as you please? I see it right enough now. That lamp, in the natural course of nature, couldn't burn like that if it was turned upside down and hanging in the air. You say it couldn't. Mr. Beamish, do you mean to tell me that you. All right, all right. Maybe it couldn't. And if it did, it would be a miracle. Very well. Now, supposing somebody was to come along. Take me, for instance. And he pointed his finger at that lamp like this and said, turn upside down. Now, if the lamp. If it Science preserve us. If it aren't doing it. Well, now, blimey. A burning and a hanging. There are no visible means of support. I can't keep it up there much longer. Remarkable. Highly remarkable. Now then, Mr. Fotheringay. Stop it. Stop it immediately. And that's my official order. Have a care, Constable. Watch out. There it goes. Oh, now see what you've done, Mr. Fotheringay. My best lamp chimney cleaned no more than an hour ago. Smashed into smithereens. But I didn't try to do it. But all you knew, you might have caught the whole place afire. Most irregular and illegal. Besides, like he's not. We'll have no more of it, you understand? But I tell you, I didn't mean you and your silly conjuring trick. It wasn't a conjuring trick. Ah, that's what you. Sir, no doubt you've had a bit too much trick. All I done was to point my finger at it like that. Stop it now. Don't you dare. But that's all I done. In that case, Mr. Fotheringay, you defeat your own argument right out of your own mouth. And how is that, might I ask? If it weren't caused by some form of trickery, then what happened to that lamp was a miracle. Oh, here, now, I ain't holding with no blooming miracles. Hold with them or not, as the case might be, mister, but you just stood right there and performed a real, true, honest, genuine miracle. That's what you done. It wasn't a matter of being asked to leave the Long Dragon, you understand. I already had me mind set on going anyhow. A place what's full of hignor and superstition. A the kind of place for a man of rational intellect to be doing his thinking in. And thinking was just what was called for. On the one hand, I weren't ready to swallow no miracle theory. But on the other hand, I wasn't able to recollect no scientific principle what might account for that which had happened. As you might say, the question had dissolved itself into a dilemma. Oh, my landlady, Mrs. Tetherington was sitting up in the parlour when I come in. Good evening, Mr. Fotheringay. But I can't recall saying anything to her. Well, very well, Mr. Fotheringay. I went straight to me own room, closed me door, lit the candle, and then I sat there on the edge of my bed, grappling with the problem in heroic fashion and trying to puzzle out the ultimate solution. It weren't no easy thing to do. It couldn't have happened. But it had happened. Which ain't logic, no matter how you look at it. Why, it'd be the same situation if I was to point me finger at that candle there and say, be raised up in the air. And it was to. Blimey, hanging there like a blooming firefly. But it's contrariwise that. Whoop, there it goes. Oh, black as your hat. Now, where in the tarnation did that confounded thing get to, huh? At any rate, there should be some matches around here somewhere. Oh, I say, maybe I could let there be a match in me hand. Well, now, just like that. Oh, a safety match. A lot of blooming good that's going to. Oh, half a mo. Half a mo. Now, maybe I don't need no match. Maybe I could. Kendall, wherever you are, be lighted. Oh, here, now, not in the middle of my bed. Oh, no, we'll not be having any of that now. Well, come in. It ain't locked. Mr. Fotheringay, might I inquire what's coming off up here? You might inquire, and to blazes with you. Can't you recognize a man who's got his hands full of troubles? Troubles, indeed. I'll have you understand, Mr. Fotheringay, why is smoke coming out of that bed? Because it caught on fire, that's why. Oh, me wool comforter with a knoll burned in it and taking lighted candles to bed with you. I am not taking no candles anywhere. And I will thank you to leave me the privacy of my own bedchamber. Well, I never. You have been drinking. On the contrary, I have been cogitating upon matters of science which is far beyond the range of your feeble hinterlect. With all the money I have to spend on candles I love. You know that if any candles are going to be tossed around loose like in this house, I'll do the tussin. Mrs. Tetherington, I might remind you that good, steady lodgers such as a man like myself ain't so easy to come by nowadays. With which I will bill you a highly. A Respectable. A good knight. Well, I've never been so insulted in all my life. And you can rest assured you haven't earned the last of this old vulture. Don't know who she's talking to. Me, a bloke what's only got to point his finger and say B. And it is. Blimey, if I ain't suddenly got the power to perform miracles. Real, genuine miracles, like as not the result of my long devotion to the true principles of science. Well, I got through the next day without no trouble. And come evening I went walking down the lane that leads around Millsdale's Pond, attempting to put my mental processes into order, as you might say. Mostly I kept trying to cogitate on some honest and betsy miracle I might up and perform. But it ain't such an easy matter for a chap who's unaccustomed to goings on of that nature. No, what I wanted was the genuine article, you understand? No little shenanigans. One with which to make people stop and say, blimey, now, if that ain't a real downright miracle for you. And all of a sudden I had it. I just happened to recollect a chap somewhere who stuck his staff into the ground and commanded it to blossom. So I poked me walking stick into the edge of the turf. I backed off a wee bit and pointed me finger at it. Walking stick become a blooming bush of flurrin posies, rosies. By heaven, I done it. Just like that fellow in the hopperer. What's going on here? Oh, Constable Winch, confound the man. Anyhow, cease and desist whatever it is you're doing in the name of the crowd. Oh, you there, rosebush. Go back now, fast. Have a mind. There. Who it is you're throwing bramble bushes at. Blasted thorns white into a man severely confounded, blundering idiot. I'll see now who's conducting nefarious activities under the COVID of darkness. Assaulting an officer engaged in the pursuit of his natural. Well, so it's you, Mr. Fotheringay. The fact being self evident, Mr. Winch, I will not bother myself to answer. So you'll not bother yourself to answer. Maybe you'll also deny that you just threw a great heavy mass of foliage at me. I do deny it. There. No doubt it just up and flew through the air all by itself. Constable Winch, you have just hit the nail on the head. So that's the way the wind blows. Some more of them blasted hanky pan conjuring tricks of yours. Is at it. On the contrary, it was merely a small miracle. You don't say so. In which case his honor might enjoy hearing you tell about it. So come along with me now. I will do nothing of the kind. Oh, resisting an officer. That will be another charge against you. Charge indeed, Mr. Winch. You can take your charges and. And go to hades. Whoa, Constable. Mr. Winch. Blimey, if he ain't gone and disappeared complete like. I wonder if he. I'm thinking this miracle business ain't all it's talked up to be. Why, a man might find himself in a whole peck of trouble before he learns the knack of the thing. I'm thinking I'd best go and get myself some really professional advice right away. Good evening to you, brother. A very pleasant evening to you. And the same to you with many of them, Mr. Maydig. That is your reverend ship. Oh, no, no formality now. None at all. No, just call me Mr. Maydig. Well now, thank you kindly, your Maydig Ship. Won't you step inside? Much obliged to you, Mr. Reverend Ship. Just follow me. Now this way, mister. I can't say that I caught the name. Fotheringay, George A. W Fotheringay. Ah, yes. Not from my parish. Well, yes, I attended services last Christmas. Indeed, so many people did last Christmas. Well, here we are, Mr. Botheringway. Take a chair. It's Fotheringay. Nice diggings you've got here. Oh, adequate, Mr. Mothering way adequate for my simple wants. Yeah. Now, now, just feel entirely free to lay your burdens upon my shoulders. Well, the fact is, the matter which I come here to talk about might be considered of a somewhat a delicate nature. Oh, well, think nothing of it. Please feel free to speak. Well, speak freely. My housekeeper retires very early. Oh, no, your Reverend Ship is nothing like that. Oh, then like what? The subject about which I'm inquiring is miracles. Miracles? Oh, yes, yes, indeed, miracles. Any special kind of miracles? Oh, yes, the kind which I perform myself. Oh, which you perform your. Ah, I see. And what sort of miracles do you perform? Well, for one thing, I have just finished sending Constable Winch to Hades. Hades? Hmm, indeed. Now that's very interesting. Of course, when I realized what had happened, I had him transferred to San Francisco, wherever that is. Oh, I'm sure, sure he'll like San Francisco much better. You don't believe me? I can't say that I blame you none either. Well, after all, Mr. Dothering Lay, it's Fotheringay. Well, very well. There ain't nothing else to do but for me to go up and perform a few miracles before we go any farther. Well, that's very interesting, I'm sure. You just take that jar of tobacco there on the table, for instance. Suppose I just point my finger at it like this and become a bowl of violets. Yes, indeed. It's very intri. You see, it ain't no tobacco jar no more. It's a bowl of violets. Well, go. Blime. I mean, so it is. Of course, it ain't nothing very spectacular, your reverend ship. But it is the sort of a miracle a man can pass without tangling himself up in a mass of trouble. Extraordinary. Very well, extraordinary. You can see for yourself. They're real violets. Indeed. Yes, indeed. Now, take this, for example. Become a bowl of fish. Ooh. Shrimp tooth. No, not that kind. Live fish in a goldfish bowl. Swimming around. Now, that's better. Amazing. How did you do it? Just told it to. That's. That's all. That's all. When I tells a thing to do, it. It does it. Incredible. It. Come on, Miss Sutton, like you might say. And I'd like to know if it's a real, genuine miracle or if it ain't. Well, seeing as our miracles ought to come under your reverend ship's special province, more or less. Yes, yes, yes, indeed. However, usually in a somewhat more academic fashion. These are more astonishing. As far as I can tell, there ain't no limit to it. Like, for instance, a bowl of fish turn into a pigeon. Why, good heavens. Look at the thing. Here, here, now, none of that. Oh, you stay away from Mr. Maydig now. Perhaps I'd better become that jar of tobacco again. Well, Reverend, what do you think about it? Amazing. It's the most extraordinary thing I've ever seen in my life. Ever expected to see? No, no, no. I have got to think about it. Consider the possibilities. Well, I might come back in the morning. Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Wouldn't hear of it. I was about to dine when you rang. I wonder if you'd join me. Of course. I'm afraid there's only cold mutton. Well, now, maybe there's something else you might like better. Oh, anything. Frankly, I've grown to hate the sight of co. Eh? You don't mean. Why not? Just name it Pheasant. I haven't tasted pheasant in years, and now is the time. Let there be a pheasant on the table. No, no, no. Not like. Not like that. Let it be dead and roasted and ready to eat. Look. Look at it. Oh, it's beautiful. Mmm. Smells good too. Maybe we'd best let there be two pheasants. And truffles. And truffles. Maybe some oysters. Two dozen oysters. You better make it three dozen. And some cheddar. Oh, we must have some cheddar. A pound of cheddar. And what to drink here, Reverend? Oh, shit. Champagne. Well, I really shouldn't, you know, but. Well, perhaps a small bottle of Moselle's. Six bottles of Moselle, a keg of stout and a case of champagne. There wasn't no mistake about it. I'd come to the right place.
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Mr. Matey got over his first astonishment, he turned out full of ideas for brand new miracles. Things even I might never have thought of. Like as not. Well, we polished off that meal in no time at all, as easy as a cat frying eggs. And an hour later we was out walking in the dark streets of the village, turning out miraculous jobs so fast I fairly wore out my finger a pointing with it. I couldn't begin to tell you all the wonderful things we did in a couple of hours. Installed a new railway line, drained Flinders Swamp, turned it into a meadow, cured the vicar's warts, paved all the roads, eliminated taxation, reformed the Lord mayor and made all the girls in the village beautiful. Ah, these weren't none of your rapney miracles. All of these were big and we went right on turning them out. One every two minutes, just as regular as clockwork. By midnight we passed clean through the village and were walking along the lane by Millsdale's pond, fairly tired out by all that thinking and pointing and performing of miracles. Mr. Fotheringay, I've just thought of another one. Indeed? And what might it be? The village clock. There. There in the steeple. Listen. Listen to it. Ah, it's terrible. True enough. It ain't got a very melodious sound to it. Then let's give them a good clock. A great, rich, booming one. All right, Mr. Mating, let that there clock become a genuine London style cathedral clock. Ah, much better. Much better. Oh, the people of this village are going to have a big surprise when they wake up in the morning. After all we've done for them tonight. I might say there's one or two things we've done that I ain't so sure about. Oh? Like turning every drop of alcoholic beverages into plain water, for instance. Oh, it's nothing to worry about, Mr. Fotheringay. You can always turn out a miraculous pint or two for your own purposes. And it will reform all the drunkards in the village. Maybe so. At any rate, we might as well wait and see what comes of it. Well, what do we perform next? I really don't know. Can't think of another single miracle that we haven't already. Oh, half a moment, Mr. Maydig. I just thought of one of my own I'd best take care of. Let Constable Winch be right back in San Francisco again. He might be catching a boat or a train or something, you understand. I think the best idea is just to keep sending him back there every once in a while. I doubt you have anything to worry about. San Francisco is some distance away, you know. Oh, is it? Oh, I'm glad to hear it. I keep trying to think of one more miracle, a big one, something worthy of ending the night with, but I just don't. Well, now, I say there is one, you know. Such as? You see that moon, Mr. Fotheringay? Naturally. Almost full by the looks of it. You remember Joshua? Joshua. Joshua. Oh, come off it now. It would be a wondrous thing to see. Well, now, that's a pretty tall order, making the moon stand still. Oh, well, actually, it only appears to stand still. What really happens is that the Earth stops rotating. You don't have to inform me about scientific principles of which I am already familiar, Mr. Maidy. Howsoever, I think we'd best not go monkeying around with the universe. Well, you probably don't have the power to do it anyway. It's really a Superior class of miracle, you know, I got the power, all right, but I ain't so sure it's a good idea. I could do it if I wanted to. Oh. Oh, of course. Of course you could. Well, perhaps we'd better get along home. Half a mo now. I. I might just leave it stopped for a little while. Oh, if you could stop it at all. Oh, well, now, if that's the way you feel, you just take a look at this. The old blinking world. Stop rotating. We're here now. What's all this? I didn't order no wind hovering. Gay, what have you done? I don't rightly know. Look out. Things is starting to blow loose. Oh, you confounded, blundering idiot. Duck your head. Here comes a cow through the air. Missed. You better lie down in the ditch afore it gets blown away. Well, it's getting worse all the time, and I can't seem to pull me wits together. Oh, I got it. When the earth stopped rotating, everything, everything on the surface kept right on moving 5, 600 miles an hour. Houses, cows, the wind, everything. It's a scientific principle. A lot of good that does. Stop it, man. Stop it. Do something. Do what? Oh, Mr. Maydig. Oh, Mr. Maydig. Oh, blimey, if he ain't blown clean away. Gone. Oh, now I got myself in a fine kettle of fish for certain. Only there weren't so much confusion. Maybe I could. I say now, that's it. That's the only answer. All right, now. Let nothing happen until I say the word go. And when I do, let everything go back exactly like it was just before I turned that blooming lamp upside down in the Long Dragon bar. And at the same time let me lose. Is here miraculous power complete like. Forget all about it. Have you got it now? Everything just as it were. No more miracles. And let me forget the old thing. All right, then. Ready, Go. That's only what you say. And the same as anybody might say who's got the least bit of scientific knowledge inside of their thick heads. Ain't I right, Constable Winch? You couldn't rightly say, Mr. Fotheringay. The subject ain't exactly in my province, you know. And all the same, Ms. Bridges. Right you are, Constable. Here. Regardless, Mr. Beamish, miracles ain't possible. So you say. So I say. Maybe you don't even know what a miracle is. There we are. Maybe if I was to point me finger at that lamp there on the bar and tell it to turn upside down. I suppose you think it might do it. Well, I wouldn't say it. Would you? Wouldn't say it wouldn't. Mr. Beamish, you ain't got a brain in your head. And I'm only wasting my time trying to enlighten you. Which I ain't going to do any longer. There you are, Ms. Bridges. Why thank you kindly, Mr. Fother. And Guy, I'll be dropping in again when the place ain't quite so crowded. I bid you all a respectful her good her night. Well, Toddy, I'd say you got the best of the argument tonight. I never saw em sir. Glory be. Will you take a look at this? What up, Ms. Bridges? Sixpence. He left me a sixpence right here on the bar. Biggest anything. And so he did. The like of it ain't never happened before. Science preserve us if he dined. A downright bloomin miracle, that's what it is. A bloomin miracle. Escape is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald. Tonight we have brought you the man who could work Miracles by H.G. wells. Adapted for radio by Les Crutchfield with editorial supervision by John Dunkel. Featured in tonight's story was Ben Wright as Mr. Fother and Gay with John Danner as Mr. Maydig, Wilms Herbert as Tottie Beamish and Jeff Corey as Constable Winch. Eleanor Audley was Mrs. Tetherington and Constance Cavendish was Bridges. Special music by Ivan Ditmars. With tonight's program we bring to a close the present series of the world's best stories of high adventure by the world's greatest authors. Presented as Escape. Next week at this time, Lum and Abner return to the air in a new half hour program you'll want to hear. Be sure to listen. Roy Rowan speaking for cbs, the Columbia Broadcasting System.