04x37 - A Man Among Men

[bunniefuu]

-What time do you think you'll

get home tomorrow night, dear?

-Oh, not until late, honey.

Don't wait up for me.

-Boy, I sure wish I could

go on a business trip.

Couldn't I go with you, Dad?

-I don't think you'd

enjoy it very much, son.

Besides, you'd better stay

here and take my place

while I'm gone.

-Take your place?

-Well, yeah, sort

of act as my deputy.

-You mean like Matt Dillon has?

-Well, that's the general idea.

Think you can handle it?

-I sure can, Mr. Mitchell.

-You don't have to give it

the Long Branch treatment.

But seriously, son, you

are getting old enough now

to sort of fill in for me

and take care of things

while I'm gone.

-Well, I'll sure try, Dad.

Is there any special

man job I can do?

-Let's see, I--

I told Mr. Wilson

I'd help him wash his car.

-Gee, he usually

pays me for that.

-Well, not when you're grown up.

You do things like that

just to be a good neighbor.

-Oh.

-Well, I guess it's

time to get going.

-I'll carry your

suitcase down for you.

-OK, son.

-He certainly was impressed with

the idea of taking your place.

-Well, you let him think he is.

It'll give him a sense

of responsibility.

-Hey, Dad?

Here you are, Dad.

I carried it partway

with only one hand.

-Well, that shows I

know how to pick a man.

-Would you like me to bring you

a glass of milk before you go?

-Milk?

-Yeah, one for the road.

-One for the-- Dennis, where

on Earth did you get that?

-I woke up one night when Dad

and some other men were playing

cards and I heard him say that--

-Never mind, Dennis.

I think I'd better be going.

Bye, dear.

-Men don't kiss each other, Dad.

-Oh, that's right.

Goodbye, son.

See you soon.

-Bye, Dad.

-Have a nice trip.

-Gee, I miss him already.

-Well, so do I,

but we'll manage.

Now why don't you

come on in and help me

with the breakfast dishes.

-Oh, I can't do that, Mom.

I'm taking Dad's

place, so I have

to do what he does

after breakfast.

Hm, the stock market

looks sort of shaky today.

-It's so nice to have

a man around the house.

[theme music]

-Well?

Do I look any taller, Tommy?

-Yeah.

A little, I guess.

-That's because I'm a man today.

-It's because you're

standing on your tip-toes.

-Nobody asked you, Seymour.

Anyhow, I am a man.

I'm taking my dad's place

while he's out of town.

-I wish mine had

gone out of town.

-His dad gave him a

licking this morning.

-It hasn't wore off yet.

-Gee, what was the trouble?

-He got caught swiping some

candy out of a box his mom had.

They knew he did

it 'cause there was

some chocolate left

around his mouth.

-Seymour, that was

a bad thing to do.

I hate to see you

make the mistakes

I made when I was a kid.

Now you just listen to me.

-OK.

-Now you gotta make up your mind

that you'll behave yourself.

And you gotta be

real careful not

to do stuff that'll

get you a licking.

Understand?

-Oh, sure.

-Now if you knew where your

mother had another box of candy

put away, what would you do?

-Eat it and then wash my face.

-It's no use, Tommy.

The children of today

just won't learn.

ALICE MITCHELL (OFFSCREEN):

(CALLING) Dennis!

-That's my mom calling me.

I guess she wants me to fix

the furnace or something

grow-up like that.

See you later.

-Come on, Seymour.

-Hi, Mom.

You want me to stoke the

furnace or something?

-No, dear, we're

having stew for lunch,

and I'd like you to

peel the potatoes.

-Gee, Mom, men don't

do things like that.

-What do you mean?

Your father does.

-Yeah, but you take the Kn*fe

away from him because you say

he peels them too deep.

You don't want them

peeled that way, do you?

[doorbell rings]

-Dennis, would you

get the door for me?

I have something on the stove.

-OK, Mom.

Oh, hi, Mr. Wilson, come on in.

-Hello, Dennis.

Are your, uh, parents home?

-My mom is, but my dad's

out of town on business.

Come on in.

Sit down.

-Thank you.

-I'm taking my

dad's place, so I'll

help you wash your car

like he was going to do.

-Well, that's very kind of

you, but I drove downtown

this morning and had it

done at a service station.

-Oh.

Well, you just let

me know if there's

anything else you

need another man for.

-Hello, Mr. Wilson.

-Well, Alice.

Dennis tells me you're

a business widow.

-Only until tomorrow

night, thank goodness.

-Oh.

Well, I have a little

surprise for you.

Do you remember my

telling you about a book

I was having published,

my first book?

-Yes, and we're so

thrilled for you.

Is that it?

-I got my author's

copies this morning

and I autographed one

for you and Henry.

-"The Land We Love,"

by John Wilson.

Oh, thank you.

-Well, I hope you enjoy it.

It's a collection of my magazine

articles on American history.

-I know we'll enjoy it.

And here's a personal

copy for you too, Dennis.

-Boy, Mr. Wilson,

it feels great.

Not nearly as heavy

as my arithmetic book.

-I know how proud you

must be, Mr. Wilson,

and I hope the book makes

a lot of money for you.

-Oh, I won't get

any money myself.

No, I was very well paid

for the original articles,

and I decided that

I would turn over

the book royalties

to the Red Cross.

-What a fine thing to do.

I'll certainly tell

all of my friends

what a generous man you are.

-Oh, no, no.

Please, don't.

I know I've always been very

quick to toot my own horn,

but I think so much

of the Red Cross

that I'd rather do

this without fanfare.

-I understand.

-And now if you'll

excuse me, I'm

going down to the

local bookstore

and try and arrange for

a good window display.

-Oh, I'm sure Mr. Jessup

will give you one.

He's a rather fussy sort

of man, but very nice.

-Well, I haven't met him,

but I'll introduce myself.

-And thank you again for

the book, Mr. Wilson.

-Thank you for mine, too.

-Oh, yes, of course.

-Goodbye.

-Goodbye.

-Good old Mr. Wilson.

He sure is a nice man, isn't he?

-He certainly is.

-Hey, now that

I'm a man, I think

I'll grow a mustache

just like his.

-Thank you very much.

-Oh, uh, good

morning, Mr. Jessup?

-That's right.

What can I do for you?

-My name is John Wilson.

-Oh, well, it's a

pleasure to meet

a real life literary figure.

-It's a pleasure knowing you.

Are you stocking my

book, Mr. Jessup?

-Oh, you bet I am.

Since you're a local

celebrity, I ordered copies.

They were delivered

just this morning.

-Oh, splendid, splendid.

Uh-huh.

I, uh, I have a

small favor to ask.

-Oh, you just name

it, Mr. Wilson.

You're the first author

I've ever had in my shop.

A fellow came in once

that wrote real clever ads

for a deodorant.

Oh, but of course, that

don't put him in your class.

-Uh, no.

Well, uh, what I had in mind was

a window display for my books.

copies should fill it nicely.

-Oh, that's a fine idea.

Of course, I couldn't

put all of them in,

but I could make room

for two or three?

-Wh--why so few?

-Well, if I put in

any more, I'd have

to take out my display

of Get Well cards.

-Get Well cards?

-Uh-huh.

Greeting cards for sick folks.

I just got in a

lovely selection.

Like this one.

"As you lie there sick in bed,

having lots of pain from toe

to head, just remember

those worthwhile

are the ones who wear a smile."

Isn't that nice?

-Surely you must be

joking, Mr. Jessup.

-Well, I don't see

anything funny.

-You mean you actually

prefer to have

that-- that drivel in your

window, instead of my book?

-Well, it may be

drivel to you, but I

think cheering up sick

people is important.

-Look, I'm not

against sick people.

-Oh, well, that's good of you.

-But as a businessman, you

should be practical about this.

A window display of my books

will bring in far more money

than you'll ever get

out of those cards.

-All people don't

measure everything

by money, Mr. Wilson.

Sick people need--

-You've already explained that.

-You come in here

and ask a favor

and then end up by telling

me how to run my business.

-Well, I'll be doing

you a favor, too.

I'm willing to stay here and

autograph books for anyone

who buys a copy.

-I suppose you'd charge

them for signing your name.

-Of course not.

Why would I do a

thing like that?

-Because apparently

nothing matters to you

but making money.

-That is not true.

-Well, you got mad

at me when I said

I'd rather sell Get Well cards

and make sick folks happy.

-I did no such thing.

Now Mr. Jessup, let's be

reasonable about this.

It's true I would like

people to buy my book.

-Oh, naturally, so

you could get rich.

-No, so they can

read the stories

it tells about our

famous American heroes.

-Oh, your hero is

probably Benedict Arnold.

He loved money, too.

-Oh, for heaven's sake!

-Oh, I know the kind of

man you are, Mr. Wilson.

You think you can lord it

over me, come in my shop

and give me orders and

expect me to bow and scrape

just because you've

written a book.

That's the kind of man you are.

-Is that so?

Well, you are the kind

of fussy pipsqueak

who's headed for bankruptcy

because you'd rather

sell stupid cards

than good literature.

-I'm glad you said that.

It'll make it easier

to send your books back

to the publisher.

-Send them back?

-Yes.

I refuse to handle

anything written

by such a cold and

heartless person.

-How much is this Get Well card?

-$ . .

-$ . .

, .

It's for you.

You must be sick!

I can't get over the things

that fellow Jessup said to me.

-Now John, you mustn't

let it bother you so.

-But it does bother me.

I'm not a cold,

heartless man, am I?

-Of course not.

You're a good, kind man.

-A good, kind, sweet man.

-You writers always

find the perfect word.

-I counted so on having my

books on display in his window.

People would have seen them from

the street, they'd have come in

and asked me to autograph

them, and they'd

have told me what a fine

book it is, how well-written.

And I'd have said, well, not

really, just careful research.

-And it would have been such a

good thing for the Red Cross.

You hadn't forgotten that?

-Oh, that too, of course.

-A good, kind,

sweet, modest man.

-Now he's going to

send them all back,

and I won't get to

autograph a single one.

-John, would you stop

fretting about this?

Now why don't you do

something to keep busy?

Something to-- well, to

keep your mind off yourself?

-Well, I suppose

that might help.

Oh, I know, I've been

meaning to touch up

the pickets on the front fence.

Oh, and I'll pick up that

wicker chair out of the garage

and spray some paint on it, too.

We can always use it

as lawn furniture.

-That's a wonderful idea.

And I'll fix a pitcher

of cold lemonade

and put it on the porch for you.

-Bless you, my dear.

-Aw, come on, Dennis.

Let's play tag or Run,

Sheep, Run, or something.

-Not me, Tommy.

I told you.

Since this morning,

I'm a grown-up,

and those kind of

games are kid stuff.

-Yeah, but they're fun.

-Maybe so, but I

have to be adult.

-I think Dennis is

absolutely right.

-You do, Margaret?

-Yes.

Run, Sheep, Run is

such a juvenile game.

Dennis, you and I

will play house.

-Oh, no, Margaret.

-You can be my husband and

push dear little Gwendolyn

in her carriage.

That's very adult.

-But I'm taking my dad's

place for a couple of days.

He doesn't push me

around in a carriage.

-Oh, you're so technical.

-Hey, how about Cowboys and

Indians, like on television?

-A Western?

Well, I guess that

would be all right,

if it's an adult Western.

-All right, I'll

be the schoolmarm.

-You never wanted to

play Western before.

-But this is adult.

That means the hero

doesn't kiss his horse.

He kisses the schoolteacher.

So Dennis will be the

hero, and I'll be the--

-Hey, there's Mr. Wilson.

I bet he needs some help.

-Dennis, I won't kiss you hard.

-You won't kiss me

at all, Margaret.

When a man needs help, it's

up to another man to help him.

-Aw, fudge.

He never finishes anything.

-Hi, Mr. Wilson.

-Oh, hello, Dennis.

-Did you get all your books in

the window at the book shop?

-No, Mr. Jessup

won't even sell them.

He was most disagreeable.

-Gee, that's too bad.

Well, I bet you I

could have fixed it up

if I'd have gone with you.

-Well, you didn't, so

let's not talk about, huh?

-OK.

Can I help you paint the fence?

-Oh, Dennis, really--

-But Dad always helps you.

-Well, that's a

good idea, Dennis.

You take over.

I'll have myself some lemonade.

-You've got lemonade?

-Yes.

You do a good job, there'll

be some for you, too.

-Gee, swell, Mr. Wilson.

-The sooner you finish,

the sooner you get some.

-With a spray can,

I can go real fast.

-Dennis!

Stop that!

-Oh.

-Dennis!

This paint was

meant for the chair.

Now I'll have to do the

whole fence over again.

-Gee, I didn't mean to

make a mess, Mr. Wilson.

-Well, I hope this

will teach you

that a boy shouldn't

attempt a man's job.

-I was just doing what

Dad would have done.

I mean, I just wanted to help.

-Dennis, there's only

one way you can help me.

Go home.

Please.

-OK, I'll go, Mr. Wilson.

I sure hate to make

another man cry.

-Dennis, you've hardly

touched your breakfast.

-I'm not hungry, Mom.

-But you're a man.

You should eat a

man-sized breakfast.

-I guess I'm not much of a man.

Not after what I did to Mr.

Wilson's fence yesterday.

-But that was just

an accident, dear.

I'm sure Mr. Wilson

isn't very mad.

-Well, he ought to be.

I tried to help him

like Dad would have,

but it turned out all wrong.

-You're still the

man in this house.

-I'd better go out and see

what the kids are doing.

-All right, dear, run ahead.

And cheer up.

-Gee, taking Dad's place

isn't as easy as I thought.

It's kind of like

putting on his clothes.

They'd be too big for me.

-It takes a man to

admit that, dear.

-Yeah?

Gee, maybe I was

giving up too soon.

Mr. Jessup won't sell this book!

He's unfair!

-He's mean to Mr. Wilson!

-He's a very naughty man.

-Boo!

-Mr. Jessup won't

sell this book!

He's unfair!

-Now look here, children.

I've told you before, this

isn't doing a bit of good,

so why don't you just run along?

-Because we want

to help Mr. Wilson.

-And make you treat him fair.

-Justice will prevail.

-I like to make noise.

-But you must be getting tired,

marching around in this heat.

Wouldn't you rather

go to the drugstore

and have ice cream sodas?

-Well, it is kinda hot, Dennis.

-And I am fatigued.

-I would make a lot

of noise with a soda.

-Oh, then please be my guest.

-Come on, Dennis.

This isn't much fun anyway.

-Oh, go ahead and drink

his old sodas if you want.

I'm staying right here.

-I admire your

principles, Dennis,

but you're fighting

for a lost cause.

-You're nutty.

-You can't buy me off.

-Why are you being so

stubborn, young man?

-Because that's what

I am-- a young man.

Even you know it.

-Then you refuse to give

up this picketing nonsense?

-I sure do.

My Dad wouldn't quit

helping a friend,

and I won't quit

either. (SHOUTING)

Mr. Jessup won't sell this book!

He's unfair!

-Very well.

I tried.

-(SHOUTING) Mr. Jessup

won't sell this book.

Mr. Jessup is unfair.

He won't sell Mr. Wilson's book!

It cost $ . ,

and it's worth it!

-Great [inaudible].

Dennis!

-Oh, hi, Mr. Wilson.

-What in the world do

you think you're doing?

-Oh, I'm picketing Mr. Jessup.

That's how men operate.

-Oh, but-- give--

give me that thing.

-What's wrong, Mr. Wilson?

-Dennis, people will

think I'm behind this,

that I'm hiring you to

drum up trade for me.

It's very embarrassing.

-Well, well, well.

You know, when Jessup called,

I couldn't believe it.

Now I really can't believe it.

-Hi, Sergeant Mooney.

-Hello, Dennis.

You know, you shouldn't

be keeping company

with this agitator.

-Agitator?

-Hm.

-Oh!

Oh, you mean this sign.

It doesn't belong to me.

It's his.

-Oh, sure, that's what

you're carrying it,

because it doesn't

belong to you.

-Oh, for heaven's sake, Mooney.

You don't think I'd

be picketing Jessup?

-Look, Wilson, I'm

just a simple cop.

If I see a fellow

with a mask and a g*n

coming out of a bank carrying

a satchel full of money,

I say, Mooney, that

fellow robbed a bank.

If I see you parading up

and down with that sign,

I say, Mooney, he's picketing.

That's the way my

mind works. [laughs]

-I just took the

sign from Dennis.

Tell him, Dennis.

-That's right, Sergeant Mooney.

-Don't protect him, son.

The next thing you know, he'll

have you on top of a soapbox,

yelling, down with Shakespeare!

-Oh, this whole

thing is ridiculous.

-Aw, maybe not, Wilson.

Maybe this little stunt

will sell enough books

to pay your fine.

-Fine?

-Yeah, for picketing

without a license.

-Well, I hope you're

satisfied, Dennis.

-Gee, I didn't mean

this to happen,

Mr. Wilson I was just trying

to make up for yesterday

when I was trying to be a man.

-Well, get that absurd

idea out of your head.

You are not a man.

You're just a-- a child.

Now please, keep

out of my affairs.

-OK, Mr. Wilson.

-OK, Wilson, let's go

down to headquarters.

-[sighs]

-Ah, ah, ah, ah.

Pick that up.

Don't try to get

rid of the evidence.

And if you're a

good boy, I'll let

you picket in front

of the mayor's house.

You can carry a sign

saying "The police

department is underpaid!"

-Mr. Jessup, I want

to talk to you.

-Oh, dear, I hoped

you were gone.

Well, what is it?

-I got my friend Mr.

Wilson in trouble.

So I guess what I was doing

outside was-- was a mistake.

-Well, that's much better.

And I accept your apology.

You were too young

to understand.

-I want to ask you a

question, man to man.

-All right.

Ask away.

-You make money selling

books, don't you?

-It's been my business

for many years.

-Then why won't you

sell Mr. Wilson's book

if it'll make money for you?

-Because I don't like him.

He made fun of my

greeting cards,

so I don't care to put

money in his pocket.

-Oh, he won't make anything.

He's going to give all

he gets to the Red Cross.

-To the Red Cross?

Oh, that can't be true.

-Sure it is.

He told me and Mom about it.

-Well, then why

don't he tell me?

-I don't know.

Maybe because you got

mad at him so fast,

he didn't have time to tell you.

-Well, perhaps I was hasty.

-Mr. Wilson gets upset real

easy and hollers a lot,

but he's an awful nice man.

-Hmph.

I find that hard to

believe. [sniffs]

But I suppose it's possible.

-Sure.

I bet you hollered

right back at him.

But you're an awful

nice man, too.

I can tell.

-Well, thank you, Dennis.

-You'd like Mr. Wilson if

you knew him like I know him.

-Oh?

-He gave me this book and

he wrote something in it

especially for me.

Can I read it to you?

-Oh, well, yes, please do.

-"These stories of our country's

past are for my friend,

Dennis Mitchell, who

represents our future.

While we have boys as eager

and honest and loyal as Dennis,

there is nothing to worry about.

We'll be in good hands.

It gives me great

pride to know that he

thinks of me as his friend.

John Wilson."

Doesn't he sound

like a nice man?

-Yes.

Yes, he certainly does.

I was wrong, and I'm sorry.

Oh, these are his books

that I was sending back.

Would you help me open the box?

-You mean you're

gonna keep them?

-I'm going to put them

all in the window.

-Oh, boy, that's

swell, Mr. Jessup!

-And would you tell Mr.

Wilson that my profit

on each one of these books is

going to the Red Cross, too?

Even if it bankrupts me.

Will you tell him that, Dennis?

-I sure will, Mr. Jessup.

This is great.

-Uh, Dennis, what I have

to say, I may say badly.

It-- it isn't easy for me

to admit that I'm a grouch.

-You don't have to

admit it, Mr. Wilson.

-Oh, yes, I do.

I want to thank you for

doing this old grouch

a great service.

-I was trying awful

hard to be a man

and help you like

Dad would have.

-Believe me, you're a

better man than I am.

-Oh, no, not better

than you, Mr. Wilson.

-Much better.

I let my temper get away from me

and jumped all over Mr. Jessup.

Then when you sprayed the fence,

I let my temper get away again.

-Did kind of get

loose, didn't it?

-But that didn't stop you.

No matter how cranky

I was, you went right

on doing your best to help me.

-I'm your friend.

-I hope I can always be as

loyal to my friends as you were.

Believe me, Dennis, you're my

idea of what a man should be.

-Jeepers.

I wonder if Dad's

clothes would fit me now.

[chuckles]

-Boy, I sure had a hard

day at the office today.

-Office?

-Well, that's what

Dad always says.

I don't have an office

yet, but it was a hard day.

-What made it so hard?

-Well, it didn't

look like I was going

to get Mr. Jessup to

sell Mr. Wilson's book.

But I kept plugging away,

and now everything's OK.

-Well, I'm home again.

-Honey, what a

wonderful surprise!

-You're home early, Dad!

-Yep.

-Well, what happened?

You said you wouldn't get

in till after midnight.

-Well, things went so

smoothly, I just took off.

-Good for you.

-Everything run

smoothly here too?

-No trouble at all.

Dennis took your place,

just like you told him to.

-Good boy.

-Yeah, I like being a man.

-Well, there are some things

I like about it too, son.

Say, when are we gonna eat?

All the way from

Center City, I've

had my heart set on a

good home-cooked meal.

-But honey, we didn't

expect you for dinner.

I'm afraid you'll have

to go to the market

and pick up another steak.

-Well, why me?

Dennis is still officially

head man around here.

I don't want to put

him out of a job

just because I got home a

little ahead of schedule.

-Sure, I'll do it.

-That's the spirit, son.

You just tell Mr. Quigley we

want a-- a thick, juicy steak.

-OK, give me the money.

-Well, Dennis, the,

uh, head of the family

pays for the groceries.

You can just get it

out of your piggy bank.

-But Dad, I've been saving

up for a Super Contest Model

Yo-Yo.

-Yo-yos are for boys,

not men like us.

-Oh.

Dad, I just made a big decision.

-Yes?

-You know more about

being a man than I do.

I think I'll just resign

and just be your boy again.

-Think you'd like

that better, huh?

-Well, I guess it does

have some advantages.

[laughter]

[theme music]