WLS ANNOUNCER:

Good evening, everyone. You are now listening to WLS, the Voice of Prairie Farmer, America's oldest farm paper, Chicago.

MUSIC:

ORCHESTRA ... "SAVE YOUR SORROW (FOR TOMORROW)" BY AL SHERMAN AND B. G. DeSYLVA (DOWN FOR ANNOUNCEMENT)

WIL:

Good evening, everyone! The Makers of Johnson's Wax give you another gay gathering, going the gamut from gorgeous glissandos to gleeful gusto -- with Rico Marcelli's orchestra, Kay Donna, and Marian and Jim as that hocus-pocus husband and watchful wife -- FIBBER McGEE and MOLLY!

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

MUSIC:

UP AND OUT

WIL:

Marcelli and his men give us what might be the Glo-Coat song, from "Linoleum" - "You Do Something To Me!" Pour it on, Rico!

MUSIC:

"YOU DO SOMETHING TO ME" BY COLE PORTER (DOWN FOR SHORT COMMERCIAL)

WIL:

One million housekeepers have discovered that JOHNSON'S GLO-COAT is the easiest, quickest floor polish they've ever used. For GLO-COAT requires no rubbing or buffing. It dries in twenty minutes -- and without help from you, gives your floors a beautiful sparkling polish. Dirt can't stick to the shining surface. Soiled spots wipe off easily. If your linoleum is dull and dingy, GLO-COAT will quickly make it gleam like new again with practically no work on your part. And here's a suggestion. You can save as much as one-third by buying the larger size cans. Why not order some GLO-COAT from your dealer right away and make your kitchen floor bright and cheerful for Thanksgiving Day?!

MUSIC:

"YOU DO SOMETHING TO ME" ... UP TO FINISH

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

MUSIC:

McGEE THEME ... "RIDIN' AROUND IN THE RAIN" BY GENE AUSTIN AND CARMEN LOMBARDO ... OUT WITH--

WIL:

It's a busy day at 79 Wistful Vista. The McGees are getting ready for Thanksgiving in a big way. Molly's in the kitchen, aided by little Teeny, as Fibber, in the living room, settles himself in his big easy chair and prepares to read the evening paper.

FIB:

(SINGS TO HIMSELF) Oh, I had a hound with a very bad habit--
Always chased a polecat instead of a rabbit--
Heigh-ho, don't give up the ship--

SOUND:

RUSTLE OF PAPER

FIB:

Well, let's see what the paper says. (CLEARS THROAT, READS) "New train with Diesel engine makes record run over the Rockies." (TO HIMSELF) Betcha could make a riddle out of that. If a dozen diesels drove daily from Dallas to Denver--

MOL:

(CALLS, FROM OFF) Fibber?!

FIB:

(CLEARS THROAT)

SOUND:

RUSTLE OF PAPER

MOL:

(CALLS MELODICALLY, FROM OFF) FIBBERRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

FIB:

(TO HIMSELF) Aw, shucks.

SOUND:

RUSTLE OF PAPER

MOL:

(IN CLOSE) McGEE!!

FIB:

(STARTLED EXCLAMATION) Huh?! (GIBBERS, RECOVERS) Yes, my love? You want me, Molly?

MOL:

Yes, I do. I want you to come out in the kitchen and help me make out a list of--

FIB:

(INTERRUPTS) Hey, Molly. Did ye read here where this here feller suggests the government oughtta pay fer election campaigns? (LAUGHS) Shucks, we already got the best elections money kin buy! ...

MOL:

McGee! Quit stallin'!

FIB:

Stallin'? Why, Molly. You don't mean that, Molly. Jest because a feller--

MOL:

On your feet, McGee!

FIB:

Okay.

SOUND:

RUSTLE OF PAPER AS THEY HEAD INTO KITCHEN

FIB:

I was jest gonna come out an' see if I could give ye a hand with anything. Whatcha want?

MOL:

I'm makin' up me list fer Thanksgivin' stuff whilst me fruit cake is bakin' - (MOVES SLIGHTLY OFF) - and I want you to write 'em down as I call 'em off.

FIB:

Okay. Oh, hello, there, Teeny.

TEE:

Hi, Mr. McGee.

FIB:

How ye gittin' along with yer work?

TEE:

I'm gettin' along dandy, I betcha. Mrs. McGee is gonna let me make a little pie all by myself.

FIB:

Well, a little pie. Well now, that's somethin', ain't it? What kind of a pie? Er, mincekin?

TEE:

Hm?

FIB:

I say, you gonna make a mincekin pie?

MOL:

Mincekin pie? And what might that be, McGee?

FIB:

Mean to say you never heard of a mincekin pie, Molly? Half mince and half punkin? ... Why, shucks, when I was camp cook at Camp Custer--

TEE:

(INTERRUPTS) You made Custer pies, I betcha. ...

FIB:

I was gonna say, when I was camp cook, I always made mincekin pies fer Thanksgivin'. Ye see, I'd take a can o' punkin and a pint o' mincemeat, mix 'em up together--

MOL:

(INTERRUPTS) Here, hold this box of raisins.

FIB:

(CLEARS THROAT) Okay. What shall I do with it?

MOL:

And hold this, too.

FIB:

Oh, all right.

MOL:

Now then. We got plenty of raisins. Plenty of popcorn. Or is that plenty of popcorn in the box, McGee?

FIB:

I dunno. Let's see.

SOUND:

RATTLE OF POPCORN BOX BEING SHAKEN

FIB:

Don't sound like enough to me, Molly.

TEE:

Me either, I betcha.

MOL:

Oh, dear. Well, we'll have to get some more then. I wonder if six pies'll be enough.

FIB:

How many ye expectin' fer dinner, Thanksgivin', Molly? I'll figger it for ye.

MOL:

Twelve. And how can you figger it?

FIB:

By algebra, Molly. Ye divide twelve people by three one four one six--

MOL:

(INTERRUPTS) What's three one four one six?

FIB:

Why, that's pi. ... (LAUGHS) Ye git it, Molly? I says you divide--

MOL:

(INTERRUPTS) Aw, tain't funny, McGee.

FIB:

Okay.

SOUND:

CLINK OF GLASS. GLUB GLUB OF POURING.

MOL:

Keep out of that cider!

FIB:

Shucks, can't a feller taste it once?

MOL:

Once? Heh! ONCE, IS IT?! How many times has he tasted that cider, Teeny?

FIB:

Oh, shucks.

TEE:

Gee, he tasted one bottle all up, I'll betcha. ...

FIB:

Who, me? Why, shucks, I-- Hmm. Say, what is that that smells so good?

MOL:

That's me fruitcake, McGee. It's-- NO NO NO! Don't be openin' the oven door. Me cake'll fall!

FIB:

Oh, shucks, it won't nuther. I'd've caught it.

MOL:

You sure would o' caught it! ... From me! Now then, what else will we want? A lot of vegetables. Some doughnuts. Walnuts. Are ye writin' them down, McGee?

FIB:

Nope. I kin remember 'em. Doughnuts, walnuts, this popcorn-- Er, take this box, Molly. Say, I never heard o' this kind o' popcorn. (READS) "Torpedo Brand Popcorn. A kick in every kernel." ... Where'd you git that, Molly?

MOL:

I bought it from a peddler. He said it was real good.

FIB:

Never heard of it.

MOL:

Here, here -- don't set it on the hot stove!

FIB:

Ha ha! Don't worry about that stuff poppin'. They ain't a pop into a package, Molly. And I ought to know, too.

TEE:

Why, Mr. McGee? Hmm?

FIB:

Why, shucks, Teeny, on account o' because I used to be the biggest popcorn perducer o' Packer's Point. Why, my popcorn used to pop so loud, I sold more of it on the fourth o' July than I did all the rest o' the year. ... Why, when a purchaser picked a package o' Packer's Point Popcorn, he got--

MOL:

(INTERRUPTS) A box of nutmeg.

FIB:

No, sir. He got-- (CHUCKLES) Oh ho, I get it. Ye want me to write down a box o' nutmeg.

MOL:

McGee, we've got to go out and do some shoppin'. Now, is the car runnin'?

FIB:

You betcha. Runs like a watch.

MOL:

And why not? Ha ha! You bought it on time. (LAUGHS) ...

FIB:

Yes, and they gimme the works, too. ... What else we need, Molly?

MOL:

Well, let's see now. We've no turnips. No carrots. No onions. No cranberries.

FIB:

No rubbing. No buffing. ...

MOL:

Be quiet, McGee. I'm tryin' to concentrate.

FIB:

Okay.

SOUND:

CLINK OF BOTTLE ON GLASS ... POURING

MOL:

McGee! Let the cider alone.

FIB:

I thought you was tryin' to concentrate. I was jest fixin' the cork in tight, Molly.

MOL:

Sure. I suppose you was goin' to pound it in with the drinkin' glass.

TEE:

Hey, Mrs. McGee, if you go out for a ride shopping, can I go with you, huh? Please, can I?

FIB:

(CORRECTS HER) May I, Teeny.

TEE:

Oh - (GIGGLES) - you were goin' anyway, I betcha. ...

FIB:

(CHUCKLES) Well, we'll be glad to have ye come along, an' I'll show ye how a expert picks vegetables. Why, I mind the time I had me a little truck farm down in--

SOUND:

KNOCK AT DOOR

MOL:

Oh, heavenly days. Now, who could that be? How does me hair look?

FIB:

It's okay.

TEE:

It looks dandy, I betcha.

FIB:

I'll go see who it is, Molly. Prob'ly one o' the neighbors wants my advice on how to--

SOUND:

DOOR LATCH

FIB:

Oh, hello there, Geraldine. What's on your mind?

GER:

(RAPID, ALMOST NONSTOP TALKIN' THRU SCENE) Hello, Mr. McGee -- and Mrs. McGee and Teeny. (GIGGLES) I just ran over to borrow a couple of eggs if you can spare them.

FIB:

Oh, yes--

GER:

Gerald always calls them prairie oysters. (GIGGLES) He says they're only good to eat in the months that have Wednesdays in them.

FIB:

Wednesdays?

GER:

(GIGGLES) Isn't that ridic'? I mean isn't it, really?

FIB:

Well, I guess we can let you have a' egg or two, Geraldine. But why--?

GER:

Oh, I know. You're wondering why our chickens don't give us some eggs.

FIB:

Yes.

GER:

(GIGGLES) Well, Gerald says he doesn't know either. (GIGGLES) He says they're union hens, and he doesn't know whether they're laying off or off laying. ... (GIGGLES) Oh, Gerald says the cutest things.

FIB:

Yeah, he does.

GER:

I mean, he actually does. I told him I needed some rutabagas, an' what do you think he said?

FIB:

Rutabagas?

GER:

(GIGGLES) He said he'd go to the football game Saturday and bag us some rootahs. (GIGGLES) ... Isn't that just too too disconcerting?

FIB:

Yeah--

GER:

I mean, isn't it really? (GIGGLES) Well, thanks for the eggs.

FIB:

Oh, that's all right, Geraldine. If ye need any oats or hay or--

GER:

Oh, no, we don't need another thing, thank you ever so much. Gerald says he doesn't understand how I get along so well.

FIB:

Yeah, nuther do I.

GER:

(GIGGLES) I just made one mistake last week.

FIB:

Oh?

GER:

I was making some cookies and used cold cream for shortening. (GIGGLES) Cold cream! Can you imagine? (GIGGLES) Gerald says I must have been making ice box cookies.

FIB:

Hot stuff.

GER:

Well, thanks a lot for the McGees, Mr. Egg.

FIB:

Huh?!

GER:

(GIGGLES) I mean-- (GIGGLES) I mean, thanks a lot for the eggs, Mr. McGee.

FIB:

Oh.

GER:

Thanks, Mrs. McGee. BIDDLE BIDDLE BIDDLE!

SOUND:

DOOR SLAM

FIB:

Whew! Them eggs'll git shell-shocked before she gits home. ...

TEE:

Gee, she talks awful fast, don't she?

FIB:

(LAUGHS) Yep, Teeny. Fast and to the point.

MOL:

Sure. To the point of distraction.

FIB:

Well, I suppose we better git started, Molly, if we're--

SOUND:

LOUD POP!

MOL:

Now, what in the world--?

SOUND:

THREE MORE POPS!

TEE:

Aw, gee, the popcorn is popcornin' I betcha.

SOUND:

MORE POPPING ... FASTER AND LOUDER ... THRU DIALOG--

FIB:

Huh?

MOL:

McGee, I told you not to set the popcorn down on top of the hot stove! LIFT IT OFF! LIFT IT OFF!

SOUND:

POPPING TOPS ALL

MUSIC:

ORCHESTRA ... CHASER.

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

MUSIC:

ORCHESTRA'S INTRO TO "THEM THERE EYES" (DOWN FOR ANNOUNCEMENT)

WIL:

Miss Kay Donna, that there sweet little singer on this here program, gives us "Them There Eyes." Kay Donna!

MUSIC:

ORCHESTRA PLAYS AND KAY DONNA SINGS TWO CHORUSES OF "THEM THERE EYES" ... INTERPOLATING A CHORUS OF "THERE'S DANGER IN YOUR EYES, CHERIE"

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

MUSIC:

ORCHESTRA STARTS "LAZY RIVER" ... CONTINUES BEHIND INTERRUPTION--

SOUND:

LOUD VOICES ... CONFUSION OFF MIKE

WIL:

(PROTESTS) There's a broadcast going on here! You can't come in! You can't come in!

FIB:

(CALLS) Hey! Hey, wait a minute! Wait a minute!

SOUND:

VOICES QUIET

MUSIC:

ORCHESTRA OUT

FIB:

What's the matter over there, Harpo?

WIL:

This man says he has a turkey here for Mrs. McGee.

MOL:

Oh, heavenly days! I wanted it delivered to Wistful Vista!

FIB:

(AMUSED) Well, shucks, Molly, as long as you're goin' to git the bird anyway, might as well git it now as any time. Come on in, boy.

JOE:

(FADE IN) Gee, I'm sorry if I butted in, but Mrs. McGee said she wanted the turkey delivered tonight and I thought--

MOL:

Now then that's all right, uh, Mr., er--? Mr., er--?

JOE:

Bolen. Joe Bolen, ma'am.

FIB:

Set down over there, bud, and listen to the rest o' the broadcast.

MOL:

(BEAT) Well, what's the matter, Mr. Bolen? Didn't ye ever see a studio before?

JOE:

Nope, I never did. Gee, I've always did want to sing on the radio.

FIB:

Oh. You a singer, Joe? Would you like to sing on this program?

JOE:

Well, I guess I don't mind startin' at the bottom. ...

FIB:

Huh! Where'd you study?

JOE:

Bass Lake, Indiana.

FIB:

Oh, a bass singer. ...

JOE:

Done a lot of hog callin' in my time. They say I got a real powerful voice. Listen. (CALLS) SUUUUUU-EY! Suey, suey, suey, SUEY!

FIB:

(INTERRUPTS) Here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here! Chop that suey, bud. ... I'll tell ye what. Marcelli started to play somethin' anyway, so you jest join in and sing the chorus. (SLY) They's a slight charge fer the use o' the microphone--

MOL:

(INTERRUPTS, ADMONISHES) McGee!

FIB:

(CLEARS THROAT) Go ahead, Marshmelli! Stand by, bud.

MUSIC:

ORCHESTRA PLAYS AND JOE BOLEN SINGS "LAZY RIVER"

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

MUSIC:

ORCHESTRA PLAYS McGEE THEME, "RIDIN' AROUND IN THE RAIN" ... OUT WITH--

WIL:

That was Joe Bolen, overalls and all. And that was the first time he's ever sung on the air. And now -- with the wink of an eye and a tongue in the cheek -- we switch the scene to where Fibber and Molly and Teeny are riding along a country road looking for a vegetable stand.

SOUND:

CLATTERING CAR MOTOR ... UP FOR MOMENT AND DOWN

MOL:

McGee, how much gas did ye put in?

FIB:

Oh, shucks, Molly. PLENTY. Five quarts anyway. ... You warm enough, Teeny?

TEE:

(YES) Mm-hmm. I'm dandy, I betcha. How far are we goin'?

FIB:

What say, Teeny?

TEE:

How far are we goin'?

FIB:

Oh, I dunno. Till we come to a--

MOL:

(INTERRUPTS) STOP, McGee! Stop the car! There's a vegetable stand!

FIB:

Oh, okay.

SOUND:

MOTOR UP AND OUT WITH NOISY BRAKE SCREECH

FIB:

Gotta git them brakes fixed. ...

MOL:

My, this looks like they might have all the vegetables and stuff we'll need. D'you want to get out, Teeny?

TEE:

Yes, please.

FIB:

Shucks, they don't seem to be nobody around here.

MOL:

Blow your horn, McGee.

SOUND:

WHEEZY HORN

TEE:

Well, here comes a lady, I betcha.

FIB:

She looks kinda grouchy, too. Musta woke her up or somethin'. (CALLS CHEERFULLY) Hy-yah, ma'am!

WOMAN:

(UNENTHUSIASTIC, NEAR MONOTONE) Good afternoon.

MOL:

How do ye do? I see ye have some vegetables and stuff fer sale.

WOMAN:

Yes, we have it for sale but I'm sure I don't know why 'cause nobody ever seems to stop and want any ... but if you're sure you want somethin' I'll do what I kin but it prob'ly won't be much. ...

FIB:

How 'bout some turnips, ma'am? Got'ny turnips?

WOMAN:

Yes, I got some turnips but I don't know if you'll want 'em after you see 'em ... 'cause the turnips we got this year ain't done so good but after all what I say is a turnip's a turnip and you can't make a Bartlett pear out of it step around to the barn please. ...

MOL:

Sure, ma'am. Lead the way.

SOUND:

FOOTSTEPS ... IN AGREEMENT WITH FOLLOWING--

WOMAN:

Better come around this way - the other side of the yard's kind of tore up - we tore it up 'cause we thought we was goin' to plant some plum trees but we got [to thinkin' what if a wind should come up (FADING OFF) and blow 'em down after we planted 'em so we never...]

FIB:

(CLEARS THROAT, TO TEENY) Real optimist, ain't she? ...

TEE:

Gee, why does she talk like that, Mr. McGee?

FIB:

She prob'ly shouted herself hoarse when Grover Cleveland was elected and never got over it. ...

SOUND:

HORSE HOOFS APPROACHING

WIL:

(APPROACHES) Whoa! Whoa! Whooooa!

SOUND:

HOOFS UP AND OUT, ENDING WITH A COMBINED NOISY AUTO BRAKE SCREECH AND HORSE'S NEIGH ...

WIL:

Pardon me, madam. Are you the Farmer's Daughter?

WOMAN:

Why, yes, I'm the daughter--

WIL:

(INTERRUPTS) Well, I am the traveling salesman, and I have here a can of the finest no-rubbing floor polish you can possibly buy! Notice this attractive yellow can! See this lettering -- "JOHNSON'S GLO-COAT"! This liquid polish is so easy to use! Why, you merely spread a little GLO-COAT lightly over your floors or linoleum. You can do the whole room in a few minutes' time. When the surface is covered, go away and forget about it for twenty minutes. Come back and find your floor gleaming like new, with a bright, protective polish -- a polish that resists dirt and wear, and keeps your floors sparkling for weeks at a time. Think how much time and work it will save you -- think how much better your linoleum will look. And remember, you don't have to do any rubbing or buffing when you use Johnson's Glo-Coat -- the remarkable liquid floor polish made by the Makers of JOHNSON'S WAX! And now, if you'll excuse me, folks, I've got some more calls to make, so I'll be running along.

SOUND:

HOOFS AS HORSE BUCKS A LITTLE ... THEN SETTLES DOWN BEHIND--

WIL:

(TO HORSE) Easy there! Easy! Whoa! Easy there, No-No! Whoa, No-No! Whoa-whoa--

MOL:

What's the horse's name, mister?

WIL:

"No-No." No rubbing, no buffing. So long, folks. ... Giddyap there, No-No!

SOUND:

HORSE HOOFS DEPARTING

FIB:

(CHUCKLES) Quite a steed the boy has there. (TO WOMAN) Real nice farm ye got here, too, ma'am.

WOMAN:

Yes but it ain't what it was 'fore the cinch bugs and the wheat rust and the corn borers got it [though I do say the swamp down there in the hollow raises some of the biggest cat tails you ever see in your born days] what kind of vegetables you say you wanted?

MOL:

Oh, some turnips and some, er, some carrots, and some squash and maybe a punkin or two.

SOUND:

CHICKENS CLUCK BRIEFLY

TEE:

Aw, look at the chicken, Mr. McGee.

FIB:

Hah? That's a Plymouth Rock hen, Teeny. You can always tell Plymouth Rock's on account o' because they's always eatin' gravel.

WOMAN:

(ONLY MILDLY ROUSED) That's a pheasant.

FIB:

(DEFLATED) Oh. (CLEARS THROAT EMBARRASSEDLY) ... That's a pheasant, Teeny.

WOMAN:

You just look over the vegetables if you want and pick out what you need and if you don't see what you want never mind 'cause we prob'ly ain't got none anyways. ...

MOL:

All right. Well, now let's see some turnips.

FIB:

This here kind o' reminds me of a farm I used to have, ma'am. (PAUSE) Yes sir, I - I thought you'd like to hear about it. ... My farm was the biggest one in the state! Twenty round miles.

MOL:

Ye mean twenty SQUARE miles, McGee.

FIB:

Nope. ROUND miles. We figgered in ROUND miles on account o' the crop rotation. (CHUCKLES) ... That there harness onto the wall there reminded me. I had me a team o' hosses once. Used 'em to haul gunpowder fer the government. Never fergit one time I was joggin' along in a light buckboard loaded down with gunpowder, when I lit my pipe and tossed the match behind me -- right into the gunpowder.

WOMAN:

Well, I hope your horses was better'n the pore brutes we got - they're so lazy we have to lay 'em down on the ground to shoe 'em ... what was you sayin' about the harness?

FIB:

Oh, nuthin'. That jest reminded me o' the gunpowder and me tossin' a lighted match into it. (PAUSE) Well, ain't ye interested in what happened, ma'am?

WOMAN:

No, I guess not. ...

TEE:

Well, I am, Mr. McGee. What happened?

FIB:

Shucks, plenty. Burned half the gunpowder up before I could stomp 'er out. (LAUGHS TOO LOUDLY) ... (LAUGHTER DIES OUT, CLEARS THROAT SELFCONCIOUSLY, THEN TO HIMSELF) 'Tain't funny, McGee. (CALLS, TO MOLLY) Well, how ye comin', Molly?

MOL:

(SLIGHTLY OFF) All right, McGee. My, I think these are real nice vegetables, ma'am.

WOMAN:

Oh I guess they're all right only [we don't have much call for 'em and it don't mean much one way or the other to try and raise nice truck because] we don't eat so much. We eat what we can an' what we can't eat, we can ... What's your name, little girl?

TEE:

Teeny.

FIB:

Real nice young'n, ain't she, ma'am?

WOMAN:

Oh, I guess she is. Seems though her cheeks are real red, looks kind of feverish - don't seem so full o' life and play like I was when I was a girl ... are ye findin' what you want, lady?

MOL:

Sure. McGee, you can start carryin' this stuff out to the car.

FIB:

Okay. (CLEARS THROAT) But mebbe we better git it all together first an' then ye kin tell better how much ye owe. (CLEARS THROAT)

MOL:

You mean then I can help you carry it.

FIB:

Oh, why, shucks, Molly, I never thought o' sech a thing. Have a apple, Teeny?

TEE:

Thank you.

WOMAN:

Those are real good apples only I wouldn't eat it till you wash it off 'cause we spray 'em with arsenic and folks say it ain't very good for ya to eat arsenic ... though my goodness I don't know why not the pigs seem to thrive on it it's real cold today ain't it? ...

FIB:

(CLEARS THROAT) Yes. Yes, it is. Jest this kind of a day I had me that funny experience with the rawhide harness. Do you want to hear about it, ma'am, whilst Molly finishes pickin' out the vegetables?

WOMAN:

Don't step in the whitewash bucket there, little girl.

TEE:

All right, thank you. I won't.

FIB:

I THOUGHT you'd wanta hear about it! (WITH GUSTO) Well sir, this here harness I had was made o' rawhide. Real good and strong, too. Only one day -- a day jest like this here one -- I was drivin' home and a peltin' rain come up.

TEE:

Up or down, Mr. McGee?

FIB:

Well, don't be so fussy, Teeny. (RESUMES WITH GUSTO) Well sir, that there rawhide harness begun to stretch -- inch by inch, foot by foot -- as it got wetter and wetter till the hosses was thirty foot ahead o' the wagon. Why, shucks, I think, that'll never do. So ye know what I done?

WOMAN:

Try them onions too, lady [they ain't as bad as those other vegetables only I wouldn't say they was too good theirselves but after all the only thing a body can do is raise 'em and trust to luck is what I always say].

FIB:

Well sir, I-- Are you listenin' to me, ma'am?

WOMAN:

Not very close. ...

FIB:

Well sir, when that there harness started stretchin', I lept off the wagon, run ahead and got onto one o' the hosses and rode him home. By that time, the harness had stretched so much that the wagon was a-way out o' sight behind. So I unhitched, put the team up, and tied the reins around a stump into the front yard. And say! The next mornin' I got up a hour or so after sunrise which the heat of the sun had started to shrink the harness again and I was jest in time to look out the window and see the wagon pull into the yard. (LAUGHS HEARTILY) ... (LAUGHTER DIES OUT WEAKLY) Don't ye see? The sun had dried 'er out and took up the slack in the harness! What d'ye think o' that?

WOMAN:

Seems to me a body ought to be more careful than throwin' a match in a wagon load of gunpowder. ...

FIB:

Yes. Oh-- (DOUBLE TAKE) Say, what--? Aw, shucks! Ye 'bout ready, Molly?!

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

MUSIC:

ORCHESTRA PLAYS "I KNOW THAT YOU KNOW" BY VINCENT YOUMANS AND ANNE CALDWELL

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

WIL:

Well, we hope that Fibber and Molly, and all of you, have a happy Thanksgiving. And that you'll be with us next Monday night at this same hour. And that you will have recovered from that turkey dinner enough to--

FIB:

(INTERRUPTS, APPROACHES) Hey, Harpo?

WIL:

Well, Fibber -- are you in again?

FIB:

I jest wondered, if you know anything about zoology.

WIL:

Zoology? Why, of course. What do you want to know, my boy?

FIB:

Well sir, I was jest figgerin', son. Thursday's Thanksgivin' and everybody wants a drumstick, and they bein' only two drumsticks to a bird, if a turkey could be crossed successful, with a centipede, why, they'd--

MOL:

(INTERRUPTS, SLIGHTLY OFF) McGee! Come back here!

FIB:

Oh, well. (MOVING OFF) You be thinkin' about that, Harpo.

WIL:

(LAUGHS) Well, that was a swell theory of Fibber's, but we don't think he has a leg to stand on, scientifically. (CHUCKLES) Anyway, come back with us next Monday night at this same hour, when we'll join Fibber McGee and Molly as they conduct a sidewalk broadcast and interview passersby on important questions. Until then, may we remind you -- that just as the best housekeepers use Johnson's Wax and Johnson's Glo-Coat to keep their houses clean and shining, so the most particular car owners keep their cars sparkling with Johnson's AUTO WAX AND CLEANER.

This is "Groucho" Wilcox, one of the Floor Wax Brothers. Good night!

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

MUSIC:

ORCHESTRA ... CHASER ... THEN "SAVE YOUR SORROW" UNTIL FINISH

WIL:

This is the National Broadcasting Company.