Announcer:

The Johnson's Wax program with Fibber McGee and Molly!

Musical Interlude

Announcer:

The makers of Johnson's Wax and Johnson's Self-Polishing Glo-Coat present Fibber McGee and Molly. The script is by Don Quinn and Phil Leslie.

Musical Interlude

Wilcox:

You know, there's only one genuine Johnson's Glo-Coat. No other self-polishing floor wax can make your kitchen linoleum shine and glisten in exactly the same way. And I'm sure that's why more women use Glo-Coat than any other self-polishing floor wax. But now there's a special reason for changing to Johnson's Glo-Coat. Glo-Coat has a new glow. A glow that makes your linoleum shine with greater luster and beauty, far more brightly than before. And getting that glistening finish is so easy. You just apply Glo-Coat to your linoleum, let it dry, and watch it produce its own sparkling luster. Johnson's Glo-Coat needs no help from you. There's no buffing or polishing necessary. Try the Glo-Coat with the new glow, the one made exclusively by S. C. Johnson and Sons. You can tell genuine Johnson's Glo-Coat by the familiar yellow container with the bright red band. Ask for Glo-Coat tomorrow and make your kitchen a brighter place to work.

Musical Interlude

Announcer:

It's amazing what strange things can happen with ordinary objects. Look what Alice did with the looking glass. Remember what fun Aladdin had with a lamp. See what a beanstalk did for Jack. And look who's coming up the front steps of 79 Wistful Vista with a common looking shoe box. Yes, it's himself, of Fibber McGee and Molly.

Applause

SFX:

door opens and closes

Fibber:

Hey, Molly! I'm back from downtown. I got home with my shoes. Okay.

Molly:

Good for you. Did you get home with your trousers, too, because it's pretty nippy to be...Oh do you mean the shoes you had half-soled?

Fibber:

Yep. The Instant Service Shoe Repair. I left them yesterday and got 'em today.

Molly:

Ah.

Fibber:

There they are. Might as well open 'em up and put 'em on. (To self) All these little...well, that's funny. I could've sworn that shoemaker gave me my shoes in a brown box.

Molly:

Looks more like a dirty white to me.

Fibber:

Yeah.

Molly:

Maybe it faded.

SFX:

paper rustling

Fibber:

Oh, well. Don't matter. Hey, these aren't my shoes at all. This is just an old box full of folding money. MONEY!

Molly:

What?

Fibber:

Hey, Holy Kate Smoke, Molly! Look at the greenbacks! A box full!

Molly:

Heavenly Days, McGee! Paper money! Oh, dear!

Fibber:

Stacks of it! Tens and twenties. Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Money, money, money! Why, we're rich, Molly!

Molly:

Oh, McGee, we're no such a thing. And put the lid back on it quick.

Fibber:

Huh?

Molly:

My goodness, I never seen so much temptation in one pile in my life. Where'd you get it?

Fibber:

Millions. Thousands anyhow. Huh? Oh. Why, the shoe man gave it to me, and no, come to think of it, I watched him put my shoes in a box and hand it to me.

Molly:

Alright. And then what?

Fibber:

Well, I took a streetcar home, changed seats a couple of times...Hey that's what must've happened, I must've got boxes switched with somebody on the streetcar some way. And to think of all the nasty things I've said about that lovely streetcar company.

Molly:

Well, you can apologize to them tomorrow, dearie. Right now, we'd better...

Fibber:

We'd better count it. You said it. Watch out, now. I'll dump it out and... (SFX money clattering out of the box) Oh, look at those beautiful stacks of jack. All labeled nice and neatly.

Molly:

McGee, please. Put it back in the box.

Fibber:

Huh?

Molly:

Oh! That's a lot of money, isn't it?!

Fibber:

Oh, boy! (Chuckles) I've waited a long time for this Molly. This is a real American success story, kiddo. You know that?

Molly:

Success story?

Fibber:

Why, certainly. A poor boy works hard all his life, always honest and fair to his fellow man, gives everybody an even break, picks up the wrong box on the streetcar, and winds up rich. That's America! Opportunity for all! Where else could a thing like that happen? Let me see...Five hundred, a thousand, fifteen hundred, two thousand...

Molly:

No. No, McGee, no. Stop talking like that. Somebody lost that money and ...

Fibber:

I'll say they did. And I found it. Go get the steamship companies on the phone, Baby. Time's a-wasting. Oh, boy! Honolulu. Wai-ki-ki-ki Beach. Lying on the sand at O-aye-hoo.

Molly:

That's pronounced Oahu, Dearie.

Fibber:

You said it! Wa-hoo! I found it! Yes, sir! We'll both go to O-aye-hoo! I'd better count it again. Careful-er. Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty...

SFX:

Doorbell

Molly:

It's probably the man right now.

Fibber:

Hold it, hold it, now. Don't let him in. Wait til I put this dough away.

SFX:

Desk drawer rattles

Fibber:

It's in the desk. Don't tell anybody about it.

SX:

Drawer slams, door opens

Fibber:

There. Come in.

Molly:

Oh, for goodness' sakes! It's Dr. Gamble. Come in, Doctor.
SFX: Door closes

Gamble:

Thank you, Molly. And good day to you, Egg Face.

Fibber:

Oh, it's you. Hi, Hem-Stitcher. You can't stay, can you?

Gamble:

Huh?

Fibber:

You're just passing through, I hope.

Molly:

McGee, what kind of greeting is that for the good doctor?

Fibber:

Well...

Gamble:

Ignore him, my dear. I always do. Besides, I believe you can always find some good in everybody...even little Gutter-Nose, here.

Fibber:

Certainly.

Gamble:

In fact, the more I talk to people about you, my boy, the more I realize you have one thing about you that everybody loves.

Fibber:

Yeah? What, Doctor?

Gamble:

Your wife.

Fibber:

Oh.

Molly:

Thank you, Doctor. Please. Sit down and visit awhile. It's nice to talk to you.

Fibber:

Ah, don't encourage him, Molly. Leave him go. I've got no time to be gabbing about odds and ends with a guy with one of the oddest ends that ever busted a spring. I got important things to do.

Gamble:

Your idea of something important to do, Knuckle-Nose, is to go sit in the corner and count your toes. Or can you count that high yet?

Molly:

Now, Doctor, don't tease him. He's just things on his mind this morning, that's all. He's really a pretty nice lad.

Gamble:

If he is he manages to conceal it very well. I took out an appendix last week that had more charm and personality than he has.

Fibber:

Oh, yeah? You took out my appendix, too, three years ago, but I still get sore throats, Fatso.

Molly:

McGee, that's not from your appendix. It's only since you had your tonsils out that you keep catching colds.

Fibber:

Well, he took them out, too. Calls himself a doctor and he can't even tell people how to keep from catching colds.

Gamble:

I can tell you how to keep from catching cold, Mushmouth.

Fibber:

Huh?

Gamble:

Do as I say and you'll never have another one.

Fibber:

Yeah? What do I do?

Gamble:

Stop breathing. (pause) Look, I'd like to stay and chat awhile, Molly, but I must be going. I'm taking Miss Fifi Tremaine out tonight and...

Molly:

Oh, good for you, Doctor! You know I had begun to think Mayor LaTrivia was practically engaged to her, the way he talks.

Gamble:

That's what he thinks, too. (Chuckles) You just ask Fifi whose fraternity pin she's wearing these days.

Fibber:

Fraternity pin? No kidding? Yours, Doc?

Gamble:

Next time you see her, just ask her.

Molly:

I will, Doctor.

Gamble:

Well, let me know, will you? She's got such a collection of them I've forgotten which one is mine. So long.

SFX:

Door Closes

Applause

Fibber:

At last. Let me at that dough. Boy oh boy, is this living! Call the steamship companies, Molly! Get a travel agency.

Molly:

Now, look, McGee. Whoever lost this will undoubtedly run an ad in the paper.

Fibber:

I got that covered. Don't let a newspaper in here. If we don't read the ad, we're not responsible. If the paper boy throws the evening paper on the porch, I'll throw it back at him. I'll knock him off that bicycle so fast he'll ...Let me see, ten twenty, thirty, forty...

Musical Interlude

Applause

Announcer:

Here's ___________________singing _______________________

Music

Applause

Fibber:

...Nine hundred and sixty, nine hundred and seventy, nine hundred and eighty, nine hundred and ninety. Five thousand. Hot dog. Five grand. Better count it once more to be sure. Ten, twenty, thirty, forty... (continues counting in the background)

Molly:

Oh, look, McGee, you gotta get rid of that money. You've got to find the owner. Why don't you put an ad in the Gazette?

Fibber:

(sarcastically) Oh, fine. Great idea. "Will the person or persons who lost five thousand dollars in tens and twenties on the 14th Street streetcar please contact simple-minded Fibber McGee. 79 Wistful Vista. My gosh, tootsie, with an ad like that we'd make the 1849 gold rush look like a turtle race.

Molly:

You don't have to advertise like that, silly. But you can't keep money that isn't yours.

Fibber:

Well, they've got my shoes, haven't they?

Molly:

Oh...

Fibber:

Is it my fault that they got the worst of the trade? Look, it was cold this morning.

Molly:

Yes?

Fibber:

Suppose some barefoot guy seen them shoes. He said to himself, "Well," he says, "there's a nice pair of shoes. I'll just take them shoes and leave this five thousand dollars." So he swapped boxes. I get five grand and he keeps his feet from freezing. You want I should welsh on a deal like that?

Molly:

Well, you'll have to wrestle with your own conscience if any. I'm sure you'll find some way to get this money back to its owners. In the meantime, I've got to go get some potatoes in the oven for dinner.

Fibber:

Okay, Tootsie. Ah, there goes a good kid. Too good, almost. Here she has a chance to get a mink coat, a trip to Sun Valley, and a diamond "ter-arra," and what does she do? Tries to get five grand back to some dimwit who has (interrupted by doorbell).

SFX:

doorbell

Fibber:

(mumbles as he moves toward the door) Better cover this dough. Come in.

Teeny:

Hi, mister!

Fibber:

Oh, hi, Teeny.

Teeny:

(giggles)

Fibber:

Come on in.

SFX:

Door closes

Fibber:

I'm glad to see you, Sis. I got a question I'd like to ask you.

Teeny:

Oh. (giggles) Okay.

Fibber:

Look, you're a nice, clean, upstanding little girl...

Teeny:

I'll say I am.

Fibber:

Um-hm.

Teeny:

I'm nice and clean on account of my mama made me take a bath, I betcha.

Fibber:

Oh.

Teeny:

And I'm upstanding because she had to persuade me with a hairbrush. Oh, boy, can my mama persuade!

Fibber:

Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean, Sis. I was eighteen years old myself before I knew you could use a hairbrush for brushing hair, too. But look, about my question. Just suppose you accidentally, accidentally, now, found five thousand dollars on the streetcar, see...

Teeny:

Five thousand dollars?

Fibber:

Just supposing, of course. What would you do with it? Keep it?

Teeny:

Oh, no, mister, no. Never.

Fibber:

Oh. You wouldn't, huh?

Teeny:

No. I'd give it to my daddy, I betcha.

Fibber:

Yeah? What would he do with it? Keep it? Or take it back?

Teeny:

That, mister, is a very interesting question.

Fibber:

Yeah.

Teeny:

I've seen him get thirty cents too much change at the cigar store and forget to mention it, but, on the other hand, I've seen him get shortchanged two cents and yell his head off. I guess that's human nature, I guess.

Fibber:

Yeah. Ah, you're not much help, Sis, but thanks for trying anyway.

Teeny:

Is that the five thousand dollars over there, mister?

Fibber:

Huh?

Teeny:

All that green stuff under the newspaper there? Hm?

Fibber:

Oh, now look, Sis, don't go blabbing about this all over town. My gosh, you'll start a stampede in here that, that...do me a favor... forget it, will ya?

Teeny:

Oh, sure. I'm a good forgetter, I betcha. 'Specially when I'm drinking chocolate sodas. Oh, boy, I could drink three chocolate sodas and forget my own name, I betcha.

Fibber:

Here's a buck. Forget my name, too, will ya?

Teeny:

Okay. So long, mister.

SFX:

door closes

Applause

Fibber:

Well, I guess I'd better count again. Let's see now. Ten, twenty, thirty...

Molly:

Oh, McGee. For goodness sakes, stop counting that money. It's five thousand dollars and it isn't going to change.

Fibber:

Okay, but I wish you'd realize what we could do with this dough. My gosh, kiddo, you always said if we could afford it, you'd like to travel.

Molly:

I would, but I don't want to be looking over my shoulder all the time when I might be seeing the Grand Canyon or something. Besides...

SFX:

Door opens

Wilcox:

Hello, Molly. Hi, pal. What's the good---hey! Is that money?

Fibber:

It ain't chopped chives, Junior.

Molly:

Mr. Wilcox, may we ask you a hypothetical question?

Wilcox:

Certainly.

Fibber:

Okay, look. Suppose you were coming home on a streetcar and found five thousand bucks in an old shoebox. What would you do?

Wilcox:

Burn the box, hide the dough, and keep my trap shut!

Molly:

I don't believe it.

Wilcox:

Wel-l-l, no, I guess I wouldn't at that.

Fibber:

I suppose you'd make every effort to find the owner and return the money to him?

Wilcox:

Yeah. Yeah, I guess I would. I'm a fool, but I'm an honest fool.

Molly:

Well himself here seems to be proceeding on the "Finders keepers, losers weepers" theory.

Fibber:

And why not? Who can be trusted with five thousand dollars better than a dope that leaves it laying on a street, in a, in a, ...in a streetcar on a seat? Who can be trusted better than that?

Molly:

(laughing behind)

Fibber:

I can. I can do a lot of people a lot of good with this money.

Wilcox:

Like whom, for instance?

Fibber:

Travel agents, deck stewards, jewelry salesmen, mink raisers. Gosh, they've gotta live too, you know. They're people, same as us.

Wilcox:

Pal, look pal, let me tell you something. You know I'm no goody-goody. I don't preach to people. But after all, you've got to live with yourself, pal. You've got to be honest with yourself. Suppose...suppose somebody walked up to me and said, "Harlow, what's absolutely the only answer to scuffed up, worn looking linoleum?"

Molly:

Heavenly days. How'd we ever get way over there?

Wilcox:

Suppose they asked me, "What is it that brightens up the colors of that linoleum? Makes spilled things so easy to wipe up? Protects it against dust and snow and muddy footprints, that shines as it dries to a lovely, sparkling protective gloss? That requires no rubbing, no buffing, and has an added glow these days that means so much to winter housekeeping.

Fibber:

You mean...

Wilcox:

Why certainly! I'd say Johnson's self-polishing Glo-Coat. Naturally. If I gave any other answer it would be sheer dishonesty! I wouldn't sleep a wink. I'd be deceitful. I'd feel like a dog.

Molly:

See what he means, McGee?

Fibber:

Yeah, yeah, guess I do. Well, I'm convinced. Waxy, you've made me see the light.

Wilcox:

Good.

Molly:

Thank goodness! At last!

Fibber:

Yep. From now on, anytime anybody asks me what's good for linoleum, I'll tell 'em Glo-Coat. But to get back to this five thousand dollars I found, Junior, do you think I ought to keep it or spend it?

Wilcox:

Take it back, pal, take it back and be a hero. Whoever lost that dough will turn this town upside down looking for it, so you might as well kiss it good-bye anyhow.

Fibber:

Kiss it what?

Wilcox:

Good-bye.

Molly:

Good-bye, Mr. Wilcox.

Wilcox:

Good-bye!

SFX:

Door closes

Applause

Fibber:

Lotta help he was.

Molly:

Look, dearie, why don't we just take this money to the police station. They'll find the owner and all our worries...

SFX:

Doorbell

Molly:

Come in.

SFX:

Door opens

Molly:

Oh, it's Mayor LaTrivia, McGee. Come in, Mr. Mayor.

Mayor:

Thank you, Mrs. McGee. Hello, McGee.

Fibber:

(in a bad humor) Hello, LaTriv.

Mayor:

What are you looking so grumpy about?

Molly:

Well, he just found five thousand dollars in cash, Mr. Mayor.

Fibber:

Yeah.

Mayor:

Oh, my heart bleeds for you. What would you do if you found fifty thousand? Beat your head against the wall?

Fibber:

I ain't sore because I found it. I'm sore because nobody wants me to keep it. What's the use of good, clean living, outdoor exercise, eating a lot of fresh eggs and vegetables if a guy can't keep what he finds on a streetcar?

Molly:

If a man in a phone booth said he flew over Kansas in a tornado, I don't believe I'd quite get the connection.

Mayor:

McGee. I'm a member of the legal profession. Now give me the details of this case and I'll try to advise you according to law.

Fibber:

Great, LaTriv. Raise your right hand.

Mayor:

Very well.

Fibber:

Do you swear to believe everything I say, no matter how ridiculous...

Molly:

McGee! You're the witness. He's the lawyer.

Fibber:

Huh? Oh. Yeah. Well, swear me in, counselor.

Mayor:

It won't be necessary for a preliminary hearing Now then. How did this happen?

Molly:

Well, you see, Mr. Mayor, he had his shoes repaired, and was bringing them home on the streetcar, and he evidently got the boxes mixed up.

Fibber:

I object! That's hearsay evidence, besides being immaterial and "rear" relevant..

Mayor:

Do you mean McGee picked up the wrong shoebox when he got off the streetcar, got home, and found five thousand dollars in it?

Fibber:

Yeah. Now if I try to return it, what's to prevent the legal owner from brushing me off with a three-dollar reward, or something?

Mayor:

Nothing. In fact, that's probably what will happen.

Mayor:

Then you can say, "Where are my shoes?" And he'll say, "I threw them away." And you will say, "I had ten thousand dollars sewed up in the lining of those shoes and I'm going to sue you. But I'll settle for twenty-five hundred. "

Molly:

Heavenly Days! I've...

Fibber:

LaTrivia! You're retained! Why, that's the finest...

Mayor:

Plus, he'll say, "If you sue me, I'll charge you with malicious prosecution and sue you for a hundred thousand."

Molly:

We're losing money fast.

Fibber:

My gosh, I hadn't had a chance...

Mayor:

Then you merely answer, "I'll counter sue you for half a million for defamation of character."

Fibber:

Huh?

Mayor:

He says, "I'll sue you for a million, you chiseler." You say, "Chiseler, eh? That'll cost you two million dollars for slander."

Fibber:

Wow! Two million bucks! Can I collect it, LaTriv?

Mayor:

No. No, because he'll check up on your bank account, look into your financial background, and have you jailed as a vagrant.

Molly:

Oh, dear.

Mayor:

So, my advice to you is take the three-dollar reward if any. Come on, I'll drive you down to the police station to turn it in.

Fibber:

Awwwww.

Music

Applause

Wilcox:

If you want lustrous, beautiful furniture, dusting won't do. To clean your furniture to perfection, polish it to beauty, you need Johnson's cream wax. It cleans so quickly, dries so quickly, polishes so quickly, that using it is practically as easy as dusting. Why, with Johnson's cream wax, it's possible to completely clean and polish a coffee table in just forty seconds, because Johnson's cream wax not only cleans in a moment, it dries and polishes in a moment. And it dries hard, leaves no sticky oil to catch more dust as soon as you finish. Ask for Johnson's cream wax today. The fastest furniture wax polish you can buy. You'll get clean furniture, furniture polished to a high luster, practically as easily as you now do your dusting.

Applause

Music

SFX:

Footsteps as Fibber and Molly walk

Fibber:

Gee, whiz, Molly. I still say this is the wrong way to handle this money.

Molly:

The police station is right in front of us, dearie.

Fibber:

I see it.

Molly:

Nice of Mayor LaTrivia to drive us this far.

Fibber:

But look, kiddo, just let me go back to Cramer's drugstore and break one of these tens, will ya? I'll get a cigar out of it at least.

Molly:

No! Don't touch a penny of it McGee. Now come on. Open the door and don't drop the money.

SFX:

Door opens. Footsteps as they cross. Door closes.

Fibber:

Hey. Look on that bench over there. Isn't that Wallace Wimple?

Molly:

It certainly is! Hello, Mr. Wimple! Imagine meeting you here.

Fibber:

Yeah. Hi, Wimp. Trouble, boy?

Wimple:

Hello, folks. No, nothing special, Mr. McGee. I just wanted some license information.

Molly:

Dog license or hunting license?

Wimple:

No, my cousin left his restaurant open too late and the policeman revoked his beer license. My uncle ran into a lamp post and they revoked his driver's license.

Fibber:

So?

Wimple:

Well, (chuckle) I was wondering if they could do something about my marriage license. And they said no, but what brings you down here, Mr. McGee, a policeman?

Fibber:

No, I and Molly just came down to turn in a shoebox I found filled with five Gs in it.

Wimple:

F-f-Five Gs? I found two Gs in front of the Bijou Theater one day.

Fibber:

Yeah?

Wimple:

They fell off the electric sign during a high wind. Oh wait, do you mean money?!

Molly:

Open the box, Dearie.

Fibber:

Okay.

SFX:

box opening

Fibber:

There. Cast your glimmers on that pretty pile of pesos, boy.

Wimple:

Ooh. Look at that loot.

Molly:

He picked up the wrong package on the streetcar this morning, Mr. Wimple, and this is it.

Wimple:

My goodness. I picked up the wrong package on the bus one time and when I got it home and opened it, you know what it was?

Fibber:

What, Wimp?

Wimple:

Somebody's garbage. I ran an ad in the paper, but nobody ever answered. Mr. McGee, you had better cover up that money quick, the sergeant's looking at you.

Fibber:

Where?

Sergeant:

Right here, Mister. Bring it up here and let's have a look at it. That's a lotta money you've got there.

Fibber:

Five thousand bucks. I had my shoes in a box on the streetcar, Sergeant, see, and some guy picked up the wrong box and left me this one. My wife says I ought to turn it in.

Sergeant:

Hmm. Your name and address, please.

Fibber:

Me? I'm Fibber McGee of 79 Wistful Vista, and this is my wife, Molly.

Molly:

How do you do, I'm sure.

Sergeant:

Fibber McGee. Check that, Brannigan.

Wimple:

I'm Wallace Wimple. A friend. I can vouch for Mr. McGee. He's alright. Unless you've got something on him.

Sergeant:

Your occupation, Mr. McGee?

Molly:

Good question.

Fibber:

Well, I'm..I..uh..well..I do a lot of things. That is, I...

Sergeant:

Check that, Brannigan.

Molly:

For goodness sakes, Mayor LaTrivia himself drove us down here. We're very good friends of his. Check that, too, Brannigan.

Sergeant:

He will!

Fibber:

Now, about this dough, Sarge. There's five thousand bucks there in tens and twenties. You can give me a receipt for it and if your boys can't find the guy that lost it, I'll pick it up in the morning, see?

Molly:

He's got a trip he'd like to take to Honolulu, Sergeant.

Fibber:

Yeah.

Molly:

And if you can't find the owner, I'll go with him.

Fibber:

Sure. And if somebody does claim it, call me and we'll tear down his story so fast...

Sergeant:

Yeah, yeah. How's that, Brannigan? Okay. All right. You folks can go now. We just contacted the mayor and vouches for you.

Molly:

He'd better. The things we know about him!

Sergeant:

Thanks for bringing this in and I know the Secret Service boys will be glad to see it. They'll want to ask you a few questions tomorrow about where you found it, of course.

Fibber:

Secret Service?!

Molly:

What have they got to do with it?

Sergeant:

This is counterfeit dough, Lady.

Fibber:

Huh?

Sergeant:

And if you'd've tried to spend any of it, you'd really have been in trouble.

Wimple:

Oh.

Sergeant:

There's a cop behind every cash register in town waiting for it.

Wimple:

I know a store that doesn't use a cash register. They have a paper bag under the counter.

Sergeant:

What?!

Wimple:

Oh, go fly a pig.

Sergeant:

What was that?!

Molly:

Now, take it easy, Mr. Wimple.

Fibber:

Much obliged, Sarge. Tell the Secret Service boys I'm always glad to cooperate. You know, I had a feeling that dough was no good. Ha, ha. That's why I insisted on running right to the police with it. Eh, Mrs. McGee?

Molly:

Yes. We wanted to go to Honolulu the hard way, Officer. Ah, well, we'll stop at the radio station on the way home and see if we can't get on a quiz program.

Fibber:

Yeah.

Molly:

Come on, Dearie.

Fibber:

Okay.

Music

Applause

Wilcox:

You know, there's no doubt about it. The self-polishing floor wax that you want is the one that will give your kitchen linoleum a higher luster, make it shine far more brightly. Well, there is a wax that will do it. It's Glo-Coat. The self-polishing floor wax made exclusively by S. C. Johnson and Sons. Glo-Coat has a new glow that makes your linoleum glisten with a more beautiful finish. So be sure to look for the familiar yellow container with the bright red band. In that container is genuine Johnson's Glo-Coat, the new glowing Glo-Coat, for a brighter, more effective kitchen linoleum.

Music

Fibber:

Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty...

Molly:

Oh, McGee. What are you counting now?

Fibber:

Sheep. With green backs. Jumping out of a shoebox.

Molly:

Put the lid on and go to sleep, Dearie.

Fibber:

Okay. Good night. Sixty, seventy, eighty...

Molly:

Good night, all.

Music

Applause

Music

Announcer:

The makers of Johnson's Wax and Johnson's self-polishing Glo-Coat, bring you Fibber McGee and Molly each week at this time. Good night! This is NBC, the National Broadcasting Company.