-Here's your water, son.
Drink it up and
get back to sleep.
-I didn't want a drink, dad.
I just asked you for
a glass of water.
[theme music]
[barking]
-All right, Fremont.
Let's take our nice bath.
[laughs]
Nice bath?
Yeah!
Nice bath.
DENNIS (OFFSCREEN):
Hello Mr. Wilson!
-Ah, if he had two
more legs and a tail,
I could sic Fremont on him.
Don't let Fremont out, Dennis!
Close the gate!
Close the gate!
-I will, Mr. Wilson!
What are we gonna do
with the tub, Mr. Wilson?
-Oh, we are not going
to do anything with it.
I am going to give
Fremont his bath.
-Oh, boy!
I'll help you!
Then maybe you'll give me
a quarter, huh, Mr. Wilson?
-Well, what do you
want with a quarter?
-Me and Tommy are
gonna make some money,
and we're gonna buy some swim
fins for when we go swimming.
-Well, I'm sorry, but I
don't have any quarters.
Um, Dennis, why don't you
go away someplace and play
and have fun?
-This will be fun, even
if i don't make a quarter.
I've never washed a dog before.
Which end will we
start on, Mr. Wilson?
-We are not going
to start on any end.
I have to fill the tub first.
-OK.
I'll do the squirting!
-Oh, no you won't!
No, no, no.
I'll do the squirting myself.
-Don't you like me, Mr. Wilson?
-Well, yes.
Sure I do, Dennis.
-I'm glad, 'cause
I like you, too!
Can I call you George?
-Why, of course you can't!
-OK!
Can I turn the water on for ya?
-No, no, no, no, no,
I'll turn it on myself.
-Can I hold the hose for you
while you're turning it on?
-Oh, give me strength.
All right, Dennis,
you may hold the hose.
But just keep it pointed
right at the tub.
Don't point it at me, or at
the house, or at Fremont,
or anybody else.
Just right at the tub, OK?
-You're afraid I might
squirt somebody, aren't ya?
-Yes, I am.
-I'll fix it so
nobody gets squirted.
-Oh, fine.
But just keep it pointed
right at the tub.
-No water's coming
out, Mr. Wilson.
-Well, it's not on, yet.
-Well?
I'm still holding it!
I'm still holding it!
Oops!
You shouldn't have turned
that on so hard, Mr. Wilson!
Now you got a busted hose!
-Home!
Home!
-That's OK.
I gotta meet Tommy, anyway.
Boy, you sure are wet!
See you later, Mr. Wilson!
Gee, Tommy, there's Mr.
Gibson throwing away stuff!
-Yeah!
A whole box full!
-Hi, Mr. Gibson!
-Double, double,
toil and trouble.
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
-What'd you say, Mr. Gibson?
-Oh, just a few lines
from Shakespeare.
Would seem quite appropriate
when you're around, Dennis.
-Hey, Mr. Gibson, you
got any stuff in there
that we can have?
-Only such stuff as dreams
are made of, I'm afraid.
-Oh, we don't want
stuff to make dreams of.
We want stuff that we can
sell and make money with!
-That was my
intention, too, boys!
But it was only a dream.
The stuff didn't sell.
A hippopotamus savings
bank that lost its hip.
Ooh!
A crocheted pot holder
that was att*cked by moths.
Ugh!
And about a hundred Valentine
cards from over the years
that no one would buy.
-If we find anything in
here that we can use,
can we have it, Mr. Gibson?
-Why, of course you can!
-Later on, you may want
to take out these bushes
and put in some low shrubs.
It'll uh, set off the
house a little better.
-Sounds pretty good,
doesn't it, honey?
-Oh, yes, I should say!
These old things have just about
had it as far as I'm concerned.
-Hey mom, dad!
Tommy and me found
a lot of Valentines,
and we're gonna sell them.
You wanna buy one?
They're a dime apiece!
-Hold on a minute.
I want you meet Mr. Carlson.
He's going to do some
landscape work for us.
Uh, Mr. Carlson, this is Tommy.
-Hello, Mr. Carlson.
-Hello, Tommy.
-And this is Dennis.
-Hi, Mr. Carlson!
-Hello, Dennis.
-Would you like to
buy a Valentine?
-Never mind that, Dennis.
Where's you get all
those Valentines?
-Back of Mr. Gibson's store.
-He gave them to
us, Mr. Mitchell.
-Yeah!
And we're gonna sell them!
-Dennis, nobody will buy
Valentines this time of year.
-Why not?
-Well, because it isn't
Valentine's Day, that's why.
Well, I guess I'll get
in and fix us some lunch.
-OK, honey.
We'll see you on
Monday, Mr. Carlson.
-I'll be here.
-Lunch will be ready
in a minute, Dennis.
-OK, mom!
-Say, if boys?
You know that Miss
Cathcart that lives
over the other side of the park?
-Sure we do!
-Does she have a gardener?
-I don't think she has.
-Well, I guess I'll call
on her, first chance I get.
Bye, boys!
-Bye Mr. Carlson!
-Bye!
Hey, Tommy!
Let's go over to good
ol' Miss Cathcart's!
I'll bet she'll buy a Valentine!
-Sure she will!
-Come on!
-Hi, Miss Cathcart!
-Hello, boys!
-Hey, a man was asking about you
-Man?
Who?
Where?
Where?
-Just a little
while ago. he said
he'd been wanting to call
on you for a long time.
-Oh my goodness!
Who is he?
-The garden man-- Mr. Carlson.
-Oh, my!
That's very interesting.
-Say, Miss Cathcart, would
you like to buy a Valentine?
-Valentines at
this time of year?
Oh, no.
-We're selling them
to make money with.
-Well, I know, Dennis.
But you see, a lady doesn't
want to buy a Valentine.
She prefers to receive it
from someone she likes.
-Like Mr. Dorfman, the mailman?
-Well-- yes,
especially Mr. Dorfman.
-'Cause you're all
the time trying to get
him to come to lunch, aren't ya?
-Well, Dennis, a
man does get hungry.
-You sure do like him, don't ya?
You're all the time out
there waiting for him.
-Well, that's in case
he has a letter for me.
-I guess he likes you, too.
'Cause you know what he said?
He said he keeps
his eye out for you.
-He must have saw me in
my sunsuit yesterday.
-Sure he did!
And i was with him!
And he must have liked
it, 'cause he was smiling!
-I wish he'd stop smiling
and start talking.
I've about lost
track of that man.
Oh, well.
Bye!
-Where you going?
-The beauty parlor!
-Bye!
-Bye!
-Yeah, Tommy.
Mr. Dorfman smiled so hard,
he almost choked to death!
-Oh, I really have to keep my
eye out for that Miss Cathcart!
She's done everything but set
a bear trap by the mailbox.
-Oh?
For instance?
-Well, for one thing,
she sends herself
letters with
insufficient postage
so I'll have to come by
the house to collect.
-Good heavens.
So how did you b*at that?
-Paid for it out
of my own pocket.
So far, I'm out about
a dollar and a half,
but it was worth it.
Say, Mr. Wilson-- you should've
seen her in her new sunsuit.
I tried so hard
not to laugh that I
gave myself a coughing spell.
Hello there.
Dennis!
-Hi, Mr. Dorfman!
Did you get Fremont
washed, Mr. Wilson?
I hope he didn't mind
it behind his ears!
-No, he didn't mind at all.
In fact, Fremont likes to
do what he's told to do.
Dennis, you're
sending in my leaves.
-You like him, don't
you, Mr. Wilson?
-Yes, I do.
-Would you like to
give him a Valentine?
-A Valentine for a dog?
-Sure!
I showed them to a
woman up the street
and she said they were dogeared.
-Oh, Great Scott!
-Say, would you like to
buy one, Mr. Dorfman?
-Well, you and I are pretty
good friends, Dennis.
I don't see any reason why
I shouldn't do you a favor.
-Oh, oh, now
careful Mr. Dorfman.
Sometimes the
slightest favor you
do for him can lead
to a catastrophe.
-Oh, I wouldn't say that.
What possible harm can
come from my buying
a Valentines from him?
-I don't know.
Just call it a premonition.
Or something in the
air when he's around.
Don't say you weren't warned
if it boomerangs on you!
Well, so long Mr. Dorfman.
And good luck!
-Bye, Mr. Wilson.
How much are they, Dennis?
-Is a dime all right?
-Oh, sure, that's all right.
Here.
Oh, you, uh, you keep it.
I wouldn't know
what to do with it.
-But you paid for it!
-Well, I've got an idea.
Why don't you give it to
somebody that you like?
Will you do that?
-Sure!
Thanks, Mr. Dorfman!
-OK.
-Say!
I know who I'll give it to!
She likes to have
people give her cards.
She said so!
-Fine.
-Bye!
-Bye!
-Boy, it sure is hard
selling Valentines.
-Well, we told you, son.
Maybe you'd better give up.
-Heck, no!
Say, dad, anytime is
good for a Valentine.
All you gotta do
is like somebody,
an give them a Valentine.
Then they know
that you love 'em!
Why don't you buy one
and give it to mom?
-Oh no, you're not
going to trap me
into buying one of
those for your mother.
-Trap?
-Can't you tell the
way he's twisting me
around into buying
you a Valentine?
-Well, come to think if
it, what's wrong with that?
-Huh?
-Well, I said what's
wrong with showing
you love me by buying
me a Valentine?
-There's nothing wrong with
it, except this is summertime--
not Valentine time.
-Oh, but you would buy me one
if it were Valentine time?
-You know I would, honey.
-It isn't that
you don't love me?
-You know I love you.
-Well, Valentines are
one way of proving it.
-You just don't go around
buying Valentine's every day.
And it isn't that I
wouldn't buy you one.
It-- it's just that
it's not the right time.
-Henry, it, uh, could
be the right time.
-Yeah, all right, son.
Here's a dime.
Happy Valentine, honey.
-Oh, Henry.
How thoughtful of you.
-I'm sure a good
salesman, huh, dad?
-You sure are, son.
It's inherited.
From your mother's side.
-Goodness, what's this?
A Valentine!
Roses are red, violets are blue.
Please give me a sign
that you love me, too.
It must be that new gardener
Tommy told me about.
A sign?
A sign?
But how can I give him a sign?
Oh!
Tommy, you're just the
one I'm looking for.
Did you or Dennis
sell a Valentine
to Mr. Carlson or Mr. Dorfman?
-I didn't.
Maybe Dennis did.
-Well, it must be
one or the other.
Now, who could it be?
You see, some nice gentleman
put a Valentine in my mailbox.
Do you know who it was?
-No, ma'am!
-My, what a day!
Do you have any more Valentines?
-These are Valentines.
-All right, I'll take two.
How much are they?
-Dime apiece.
-Well, here's cents.
Give me five.
I don't wanna overlook
anybody in case
I'm wrong about the
gentleman I mentioned.
-Gee, thanks, Miss Cathcart.
-Oh, thank you, Tommy!
-She bought five of them.
She said she didn't know
who gave her the Valentine.
So she's gonna give with
one to everybody she knows.
-Yeah!
You know, Tommy-- we haven't
been doing this thing right.
What you do is put a
card in the mailbox.
Then, when they don't
know who gave it to them,
they come to us and buy
Valentines for everybody
they know-- just
like Miss Cathcart!
-Yeah!
I can drop one in
Aunt Gloria's mailbox.
She's a dumb old teenager
with a lot of boyfriends!
I'll bet she'll buy a gillion!
-And the Thomas twins
that know all those girls!
They'll buy double,
because they won't
know who the cards are for!
-And that Mr. Forest
with the waxed
mustache-- you know, the one
that never remembers your name?
-That' 'cause it's a boy's name.
And my dad says all he's
got on his mind is women!
-Gee!
We'll have more than
enough money for swim fins!
-Say!
Maybe we'll even have enough for
our own private swimming pool!
-Yeah!
-Come on!
-My door mat!
It's gone!
Now, the one who shows up
with it, that'll be the one.
Oh!
-Well, hello, Dennis.
Selling any cards?
-I will as soon as people start
looking int heir mailboxes.
-Hey, Miss Cathcart's place is
in pretty bad shape, isn't it?
Lawn needs mowing.
Hedge hasn't been
clipped in a year.
Even the roses
haven't been cut back.
-You got a lot of work to do.
When are we gonna start?
-Well, Dennis, let's
see what kind of a deal
I can work out with Miss
Cathcart, first, eh?
-OK.
Well, I got good ol' Mr.
Carlson for you, Miss Cathcart!
-How do you do?
What a surprise!
-No, it isn't.
I told you he was gonna call.
-Dennis, please.
-I go by your place
every day, Miss Cathcart.
I figured you needed
a man around here.
Is something wrong?
-No, no, nothing's the matter.
Just for a moment there,
I came all over woozy.
Come on in, I'll
give you a nice cup
of tea and some homemade cake.
-Well--
-It's swell cake, Mr. Carlson.
-Dennis, uh, there must be
something else you could do.
-What'd you have in
mind, Miss Cathcart?
-Well, Dennis, why don't
you think of something?
Why don't you come
on in, Mr. Carlson.
-Say, Miss Cathcart--
-Please, Dennis,
don't bother me now.
I'm engaged at the
moment with Mr. Carlson.
-Valentines for sale!
Valentines for sa--
-Hey, Dennis!
-Hi, Tommy!
-I put Valentines in
all those mailboxes
on that side of the street.
-Swell!
You know, Tommy,
when people start
looking in their
mailboxes, that's
the time when we ought
to start selling them!
-Valentines for sale!
-Hi, Mr. Dorfman!
-Hello, boys.
-You still delivering?
-I have a registered
letter for Miss Cathcart.
-Hey Mr. Dorfman, look
at my swell mustache!
-That's a pretty funny one!
Where'd you get it?
-From Miss Cathcart--
it fell off her eye.
-Well, you ought to return it.
-I tried to.
But she came to
the door and said
she was busy being
engaged to Mr. Carlson.
-Engaged?
Well, that's wonderful!
Uh, who is this Carlson?
-You know him-- he's the
landscape garden man.
-Oh, I-I think you must
be mistaken, Dennis.
Why, that Mr. Carlson is
married and has six kids.
-Yeah!
He's in her house
right now, eating cake.
-Eating-- why, I
can't believe it.
He's a lodge brother of mi--
oh, I think you misunderstood,
Dennis.
-No, I didn't.
I was with him.
He told her she needed
a man around the place,
and I guess she thought so,
too. 'Cause she asked him in.
That's when my mustache
fell off her eye.
-And then what?
-Well, a minute later
when I rang her doorbell,
she came to the door and
said she was being engaged.
-Lodge brother or no
lodge brother, that's
the most contemptible
thing I ever heard of,
and I'm gonna put a stop to it.
-Come on, Tommy.
Valentines for sale!
-More tea?
-Oh, no, no.
No, thank you.
-Oh, well more sugar?
-No, no thank you.
-Oh, more cake?
-No, uh, no, thank you.
I really haven't time.
Now, uh, do I understand
you correctly,
Miss Cathcart,
that uh, you'd like
me to do a little
work around the house?
-Oh, well, a little, perhaps.
I'd help.
-Why, I wouldn't want that.
Speaking frankly,
in my line of work,
a woman just gets in the way.
-Oh, my, you're so
masculine, Mr. Carlson.
I wouldn't think of interfering
if that's the way you want it.
-Well, that's the way it would
have to be if I'm engaged.
-Engaged?
Engaged!
[forceful knocking]
-Who in the world is that?
-Who cares?
Engaged!
Oh, I'll be right back.
Oh!
Too late, Mr. Dorfman!
Too late!
-What do you mean, I'm too late?
-Well, I'm engaged.
-Where is he?
Where is he?
-In there.
-Where the blazes
are you, Carlson?
You may be a lodge brother
of mine, but believe me,
this is the worst
thing I ever heard of!
Carlson, you ought to
be ashamed of yourself!
-For what?
-Trying to take advantage of
this sweet little lady, here.
-Don't be a poor
loser, Mr. Dorfman.
-What in blazes are
you talking about?
-Trying to get yourself
engaged to this lady here!
That's what I'm talking about!
-Engaged?
Well, the only engagement
I wanted from her
was to be her gardener!
I'm getting out of here!
-But Dennis said--
-Dennis said she
needed a gardener.
That's all he said!
-What?
Jerome!
Wait a minute!
Jerome, wait a minute.
Let me explain!
-Now gentlemen, please wait.
Both of you, wait.
Who sent the Valentine?
-Not me!
-I didn't!
-Now, Jerome, I wanna apologize.
-Good-bye, Miss Cathcart.
-Who took my doormat?
-Oh, hello, Miss Cathcart.
I believe this is yours?
-Mr. Wilson!
And you a married man!
-Why, I don't see what
that has to do with it.
-You have my doormat!
-Oh, I know.
I couldn't help it.
I'm trying to return it.
It's just a sign of--
-A sign!
That's exactly what
I'm talking about!
-Why, Miss Cathcart,
I think you've
been spending too
much time in the sun.
-Oh!
You saw me in my sunsuit!
Mr. Wilson, go back to your
wife and try to forget.
-Yes, yes, I'll do that.
-And don't send me
anymore Valentines!
-Miss Cathcart, I
didn't send-- Dennis.
(SHOUTING) Dennis!
-But I don't have any
Valentines in stock.
I threw out my old
ones this morning.
A boy named Dennis
Mitchell took them.
All right.
Sorry.
This is the strangest thing.
During the last hour, I've
had at least ten calls
from teenagers asking
for Valentines.
There seems to be a run on them.
And in July, of all things!
-Well, needless to say, I
was extremely embarrassed.
Well, after I talked with
Mr. Dorfman and Mr. Carlson,
we agreed that the rest of those
Valentines have just got to go.
-Yes, I should say so.
-That's right, son.
We'll just have to throw
the rest of them away.
They've caused too much trouble.
-Well, I predicted
just that when
he tried to sell me
one this morning.
-But all I was trying to
do was make some money
and buy some swim fins with.
And besides-- people feel
good when they get Valentines.
-Yes, people like
poor Miss Cathcart.
-Tell you what I'll do, Dennis.
I'll buy the rest
of those Valentines
from you for, uh, cents
apiece and dispose of them
myself.
That way, uh, you'll be
able to get your swim fins
and I'll be able
to get some peace.
-But people are gonna start
buying them any minute.
-Never mind that, Dennis.
You don't have to
do that, Mr. Wilson.
-Oh, it's perfectly all right.
After all, the boy wasn't
deliberately trying
to do mischief.
All right, Dennis.
Go get the cards.
-OK.
-Ah, well, now that
this is out of the way,
I'm going home, cook an early
dinner, and go right to bed.
I'm extremely bushed.
Well, I'm sorry, Gloria.
But we don't have
any Valentines.
-But mom!
-But we heard that
Dennis was selling them.
We just have to have Valentines!
-Well, Dennis had
some Valentines,
but Mr. Wilson next
door bought them all.
-OK!
Sorry I bothered you!
-No, no, we don't
have any Valentines.
My little boy had some,
but the neighbor next door
bought them all.
Why don't you try the art store,
or Mr. Gibson's gift shop?
Oh, there's a run on them?
Well, I-I'm sorry.
Mr. Wilson next door
bought all we had.
-What on earth?
-See?
I told you people are gonna
start buying them pretty soon!
-Dennis, I don't know
what you've done,
but you've started
a-a-a run on Valentines!
-And in July!
[telephone ringing]
Oh, my!
[door bell]
-No, we don't have
any Valentines!
[door bell]
-Meh!
[grunts]
Who in the world is that?
What-- oh, for Heavens
sakes, how can that be?
Just when I got
sound asleep, too!
I'm coming!
Sakes, you don't have to
wear out the door bell.
Who can this be?
-Oh!
Are you the Mr. Wilson
with the Valentine cards?
-What, miss?
-We just have to
have Valentines!
Do you have them for sale?
-Well, I have some, but I
don't want to sell them.
You see, I-I was sound asleep.
-Hey!
Here they are, kids!
-Yeah!
-There they are!
-Hey!
-Here!
-Hey, hey look!
Look!
Hey, hey!
Here's a good one!
O, distant regal beauty,
sailing as a satellite,
give up your apagi and paragi
and date with me tonight.
Hey, that'd be a
good on for Dorothy!
Don't you think so, Mr. Wilson?
-Great Scott!
-How much do you want
for this, Mr. Wilson?
-Oh, uh, Dennis wanted a
dime, but you see, I-I don't--
-Are you the man that
started this thing?
-Well, no!
I tried to stop it!
You see, I bought these cards.
-Well, my paper wants the
story--- human interest--
you've started another
Valentine's Day in July.
-I didn't start it!
I tried to stop it!
-Now, would you stand up on this
step over here, please, sir?
That's it-- right up
there in the first step.
That's it.
Right there.
Now, young man, if you'll
stand there, and young lady,
if you'll stand here and
hold the cards up here so
we can see the cards.
That's fine, that's the way!
Everybody smile
and say, 'cheese.'
-Cheese!
-One more, we'll take one more--
-All right, all
right now, all right.
Simmer down, simmer down.
Now, who's selling the cards?
-That's the man, officer.
-Mr. Wilson was.
-Are you the man that's
peddling the cards?
-Well, I guess so.
They seem to be
buying them, but I--
-Do you have the license?
-License?
Well no, I don't.
-Look, we've been getting
complaints all afternoon
about someone peddling
Valentine's Day cards.
Now, I think you'd
better come with me.
-Oh, now, officer--
-Say!
Is this the man that's
selling the cards?
-Yes, he was.
-Yes, officer.
-Yes.
-All right, just
come quietly, mister.
This is--
-Oh!
But I-- I--
-All right, now, that's it.
The sergeant wants to see you.
-But you're mistaken!
-Now, just come along
quietly, mister.
-(SHOUTING) Help!
Mitchell!
Help!
Mitchell!
Alice!
Dennis!
Dennis.
[theme music]
01x32 - Miss Cathcart's Sunsuit
Watch/Buy Amazon Merchandise
Follows the Mitchell family – Henry, Alice, and their only child, Dennis, an energetic, trouble-prone, mischievous, but well-meaning boy, who often tangles first with his peace-and-quiet-loving neighbor, George Wilson, a retired salesman, and later with George's brother John, a writer.
Follows the Mitchell family – Henry, Alice, and their only child, Dennis, an energetic, trouble-prone, mischievous, but well-meaning boy, who often tangles first with his peace-and-quiet-loving neighbor, George Wilson, a retired salesman, and later with George's brother John, a writer.