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Movie Date: July 7, 1963

# Summer magic # That wonderful magic - Who's it from? - Oh, nobody you'd know. Gilly, pry yourself away from that piano. There's work to do. I don't see why Mother had to sell it. Because it's the most valuable thing we own and we need the money. How am I going to be a composer with only a guitar to compose on? Hey! My fish! I got to thinking about him the other day. Where was he? Oh, Gilly, you can't take everything. There's not gonna be room in our horrid new house. And we can't afford to pay storage on junk. Look at his poor eye. Why is my stuff always junk and your stuff always priceless? - Here, you can have him, Peter. - Thanks! I'll put him with my junk. Well, that did a lot of good. Their poor mother. One minute a happy wife, and then the fates strike a cruel blow and she's changed to a poor widow woman. - Watch the teacup, miss. - Yes, ma'am. This family is going to be lost without you, Mary. You too, Ellen. In a book I was reading, True Blue was the name of it, True Blue, they had this family, Lord and Lady Darcy, and their beloved children. - They lived in a magnificent castle. - Aye, I do love them castle stories! - The tray, Miss. - Yes, ma'am. Well, everybody worshipped everybody, so of course it was all terribly happy. Then one day they lost all their riches. Lord save us. And they were driven from the castle and they were forced to live in a hovel. It was not in a nice neighborhood. But they had this loyal old family servant, and the faithful creature followed them from castle to hovel. And she not only brought her own life savings, wrapped in a pitiful handkerchief, to her beloved mistress, but she remained with them to serve them for years without wages. 'Tis a beautiful tale. And a lesson to the greedy. It is that. And you, Miss Nancy, being all so interested in the welfare of the deserving, will be happy to know that Ellen and myself have found a nice situation in Salem. At five dollars more a month. Oh. I'm happy for you both. Really. - Finish the story, Nancy. - I reached the end. - End is right. - Miss Nancy! 'Tis the men come for the piano. Oh, Gilly. Is this the instrument? Pad. Son. Pad. Strap. Mallet. Dolly. - Careful! - It's just saying goodbye, Gilly. Oh, 'tis a black day for the Careys. - Back to your packing, miss. - Yes, ma'am. We've lost a friend, Gilly. Sold for a mess of pottage. Nancy, can't you ever keep quiet? - Do you always have to make... - Nancy! Gilly! Come quick! - They got a thing! Come quick! - A what? A thing! Here she comes! Here she comes! Oh, my! Look at that! Ooh! - It's a player piano! - Oh, I've heard one of them. You don't need no hands. Son. Put it right there. Suppose there's some horrible mistake. Are you sure it's for us? A Mrs. Carey sold the instrument we just removed for $150 cash and a swap. This instrument is the swap. Rolls in here. Here's one we always put on when folks are moving. Son. - Let me play! Let me play! - When you learn how. Slow it down! Here come the words now. # It's time for flittering # Dusting off the trunk and flittering far # Where the grass is greener # Now and then comes the time again for flittering # We'll soon be packing up # Stacking up our dreams and bric-a-brac for some new destination # Don't know where but we're going there # We're flittering again # New places, new faces # New friendships will start # While old places, old faces # Stay dear to our heart # As we go flittering, following a rainbow # Flittering bright over the horizon # Maybe then and maybe there # We'll settle down and never care # For flittering, flittering, flittering, again # - Mother! - Hello, sweetheart. - Feel better now? - You bet. Sure glad you made the swap. - Oh, it's wonderful, Mother! - Let me tell her! Let me tell her! Tell me. Well, this one you don't need any hands! You play with feet! There's little rolls in with holes that make the keys go up and down. - No! - And guess what. - What? - I played. I played with this leg. Nobody showed me how. That's your smartest leg. - You have almost everything done. - Mm-hm. Children, come over here. - I've just come from the lawyers. - Oh, what happened, Mother? Oh, it's nothing that can't be solved. We'll make out somehow. It's just that I've learned we haven't quite as much money as I thought we had. Go on, Mother. The real blow was those mining stocks we'd counted on, the ones George Ferguson got your father to buy. They're worthless. Not worth the paper they're written on, Mr. Manson told me. Oh, well, that isn't so bad. We're just in reduced circumstances. I'll be very happy to beg. I saw a beggar once and he had a tin cup full of money. Things won't be so very different. I'm afraid they will in a way. You see, counting everything, we have exactly $50 a month to live on, so we can't even afford to move to the little house we were going to. We can't afford that horrible little house? Oh, Mother, that's wonderful! Oh, Gilly! What ails her? - Mother, this came today. This. - What is it? Mother, you remember after father... That evening when we all tried to make ourselves feel better by talking about things that had been fun, and the best thing we thought of was that time in Maine. - And we saw the yellow house in Beulah. - Yes! And we peered in through the windows, and wasn't it beautiful? - And nobody lived there. - Hey, that was years ago. - You're wild. - I remember it. - You weren't even born. - Oh, stop interrupting. - Your entire lives are about to change. - Go on, Nancy. Well, Mother, a couple of weeks ago, I decided that I'd try to find out about that house. So I wrote to the postmaster in Beulah, and he answered. His name is Ossian Popham. Isn't it a beautiful name? Anyway, he's the agent for Mr. Hamilton, who owns the house, who's miles away in China or somewhere. Probably an old missionary or remittance man in disgrace or... - Could I see Mr. Popham's letter? - It's all right, Mother. I... - Nancy... - Well... "The pitiful plight of your good self and your little ones..." Oh, Mother, read the last page. "Beulah is brimming over with fresh milk for your baby boy..." Who's a baby? "...so there's no need for him to be blue with rickets." Nancy! The important part's on the last page. Look. It says the yellow house is vacant and Mr. Hamilton would be glad to rent it to a deserving family like ours for a mere $60 a year. And he has the right to decide, 'cause he's not only the postmaster, but Mr. Hamilton's trusted friend, his factotum, power attorney. - Slow down, Nancy. - Oh, think of living in the country. No storage bills. All our things will fit into the yellow house. We'll be self-supporting. Chickens. Fresh eggs. Vegetables from the garden. Air. Space. Honest toil! - Can we, Mother? Can we? - Oh, please, Mother. But, Mother, my school's here and my friends. - Beulah's a hick town. - Abraham Lincoln came from a hick town. Mother? Your father loved you so, and he wanted so much for you. It was his dream to live in the country. So maybe he'd like to know we were together in the yellow house in Beulah. Oh, Mother, I knew it, I knew it! I wished it! Gilly, get to the piano. Mother, sit down there. There. In anticipation of this glorious decisin, I've written a glorification. But first, an introduction straight from the Bible. Church chords, please, Gilly. Thou shalt no more be termed forsaken, neither shall thy land any more be termed desolate, but it shall be called Beulah, for the Lord delighteth in thee. Amen. Right. Now, Railroad Rag. - What? - You were just playing it. # Land of promise, bounteous # This is beautiful, this is beautiful Beulah - # In the rocky state of Maine - # Land of plenty # Meant for us # This is beautiful, this is beautiful Beulah # Within our reach is there # Grapes big as peaches there # The cows and bees are busy # Who needs any money in the land of milk and honey? # Sweet apple trees abound, wild cherries all around # Berries on the vine, rambler roses twine # They're so nice, it's a paradise # Beulah land, so beautiful # Let's set forth for it, let's go north on that train # Chug-a-choo, chug-a-choo # To beautiful Beulah land, beautiful Beulah, Maine # To beautiful Beulah land, beautiful Beulah, Maine # Choo-chug-a-choo, chug-a-choo, whoo-whoo! So this is Beulah. Yeah, you're right in the heart of the city now. The town, the whole thing, is wonderful. How can we thank your father for all he's done for us? The name Ossian Popham should flame across the sky with letters of fire. Pa's just glad somebody's gonna be living in the old yellow house. The Hamilton's haven't used it since uh... I can recollect. What's the matter with it? Haunted? No. Pa says it's just too fancy for these parts. The way the Hamiltons fixed up the barn for dancing, Pa says it'd darn near overpower a cow. Your father didn't write much about his family. Are you an only child, Digby? Well, you might say so, ma'am. I just have a sister. Mother, look. The church. How lovely and quaint. Heavenly. Yeah, and uh... believe it or not, we have a minister named uh... Mr. Lord. - Is he any relation to... - No, Peter. Well, hold tight. Country! Real country! - We're out in the sticks, all right. - Gilly. Sticks?! It's the loveliest! Land of promise. Land of opportunity. Opportunity for what? Well, you've got something there. You're the first family to move into Beulah in more than five years. Most people move away to the city. That's where I'm aiming to get just as soon as I can. See some of them bright lights. Make a little money. Money? The heavenly thing about the country is you don't need money. You have the soil! The soil! - What's soil? - Mud. We're here! We're home! Oh, Gilly, come on! The piano's here! Mother! A quaint old pump! You folks the Careys? I heard you way up in the attic. Yes. You mean to tell me that you're the Careys? - You must be Ossian Popham. - Yes. - At your service, ma'am. - First dibs for bedrooms, Gilly! Nancy! Is this your treasured daughter, ma'am? Well, let's just say my daughter. Nancy, this is Mr. Popham. Oh, my goodness. Um... - Mr. Popham... - No, you don't. No, you don't. That must have been the invalid boy. Mr. Popham, about that first letter. I wrote it. No need to go on. What you've done has come to me like a blinding flash. Pa. Pa, there's a boy up here. It's the Carey boy. Come on down, Lallie Joy. That's my daughter, Lallie Joy. She's awful shy. She'd be more like me only her ma won't let her. Look at me, Mother! Look at me! - Wee! - Peter? Where are you? Look at me! Wee! Wee! Look at me! That must be the rickety baby. Mr. Popham, I think it's time I told you everything. Oh, may I tell him, Mother, please? You see, Mr. Popham, I wrote that letter and we all... Oh, I don't know how to begin. Gee, I'm sorry. They're too heavy for a girl. Allow me. You don't have to be nice or nothing. She's my sister. And that's the way it was. Well, Nancy, the way I figure it, this worid's the only worid we've got. That is, until we move on to the next one. And there ain't nothing like a story that's a mite off'n the truth for making things interesting. Like a painter improving on nature. Yes. It ain't nothing like an out-and-out lie. Of course not! Just a small white one, only colored a little. You see, Mother, Mr. Popham understands. Now the first thing we must do is fix up this house. Now, where to begin? Well, standing before you is the best painter, carpenter, bricklayer in Maine. You're wonderful! Mr. Popham, one part of Nancy's letter was true. - We don't have much money. - Oh, money. Forget about the money. When it's all done, we can figure that out. I work cheap when I can take my time and get into some conversing. Well, I ain't one to hurry. We got one hurrier in the family and that's enough. Mrs. Popham does everything right on the dot. Sometimes I get terrible sick of seeing that dot. Which reminds me, it's getting along toward noon time. I'd better be digging for home. Mariah sits and looks at the clock from 11:00 on. Then she'll get a meal of cold pork and greens, cold string beans, ginger bread and custard pie on the table. Then she'll holler, "Hurry up, Ossian!" "It struck 12:00 more than two minutes ago and everything's getting overdone!" - Well, so long, folks. - Goodbye! Thank you. Thanks for letting me crank her up, Digby. Pa, I've been doing some thinking. Good. Thinking never hurt anybody. Pa, do you realize the farthest I've ever been from Beulah is Four Corners and I was too young to even remember? What are you getting at, Son? Pa, do you realize I ain't never seen nothing or done nothing? - Go on. - You yourself said, Pa, a man never gets anywhere standing in one place. How much am I paying you, Digby? Three dollars a week. But a fella can make that in one day in the city. You gonna put a stop to it, Pa? Nope. Might as well get it out of your system. Might be coming about the right time, too. The boy, Gilbert. He ought to be able to take on the job of driving this truck. That Gilly boy. He's awful nice, Pa. I got a feeling the money might come in handy for the Careys, too. They're wonderful folks. Even if they ain't got the rickets. Oh, smell it, Mother. Listen. I feel sorry for city people tonight. # Summer magic # The soft summer magic # Drifts across # The meadows # Summer magic # It weaves through the willows # Right into # Your heart # The song # The river sings # The joy # The sunset brings # Warm rain on blossoming # Growing things # Hearts grow dearer # And heaven seems nearer # Winter dreams # Come true # Oh, what magic # What wonderful magic # Summertime # Can do # Whoa! Whoa! - Slow it down! - Look out with that fool contraption! - Slow it down! - I can't! Watch out! Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, Digby. Forget it. She was about to blow anyway. Lallie Joy, another tire to fix. - It was my fault. Let me fix it. - Oh, no. Digby always lets me fix the flat tires. But if I'm gonna take over your job I'd better learn how in case one blows when she's not around. Might. Uh... you can watch. Mrs. Popham, I've just been longing to meet you. I suppose your husband's been too modest to tell you we all think he's a saint. Nope. Never dared mention it. I'm afraid he hides his light under a bushel. He hides more than his light under that bushel. - There's a whole mess of things... - What a glorious, quaint little store. You must just adore working in it. There's all those things for the house. Wallpaper, brushes. Paint. Maybe we shouldn't splash things all over without Mr. Hamilton's approval. No need to get permissin for such puny things. I told you, he's got deep-seated faith in my judgment. Nancy, you'd better give Mrs. Popham your mother's grocery list. Take her mind off'n what it's on. Just a saint. Now, we know we need wallpaper and brushes. And you know those little tools that you use to scrape off... I'm the king! I'm the king! I'm the king! Can I play? - We don't play with giris. - I'm not a girl. - You got sissy hair. - It's not sissy in Boston. Sissy hair! Sissy hair! Sissy hair! - You wanna fight? - We don't fight with giris. Beat it! Ooh! She's mad! She'll pull your hair! Hey, let's go swimming! Last one in's a sissy from Boston! Fraidy cats! Come back and fight! Cowards! Hank. Haircuts for the lot. Be back to pick 'em up later. Get down, boys. Now you're taking over, here you are, Barney Oldfield. - Say, thanks. - Osh, I forgot to buy a stepladder. Now you're talking like city folk. Country folks don't buy stepladders. - They borrow them. - Oh. - We forgot Peter! - I'll see that he gets home all right. Mr. Popham. Now that you've a spare minute thrust upon you, I'd like a word. Mariah, why don't you get back to them strawberry preserves you're fixing? Mr. Popham. Just answer me yes or no. Have you written to Mr. Hamilton advising him that you took it on yourself to rent the yellow house? I told you I have written to him. Has he written you? Mm, no. He's a busy man. No news is good news. Besides, he's off in them foreign parts. Heathens might have ate him. And you're letting them Careys tear his house apart. Redoing, planting. Young 'uns running all over the place. Selling 'em wallpaper for less than it cost you. That lot never did move. They got you bewitched and I know why. You wore out in the people in this town with your stories and now you got new ears to listen to you. But you'll be bewitcheder when Mr. Hamilton lands back in Beulah some fine day and wants his house back. I'm warning you, Mr. Popham. If you don't get a letter from him soon, I'm gonna take matters into my own hands. Mariah, your pot's boiling over. Oh! What do you mean, I owe you $1.25? All I know is, I cut five heads. All I know is, I got four kids. One, two, three, four. Maybe so, but I cut five heads. You trying to tell me one of my son's got two heads? I seen and cut five. Maybe you better get yourself a pair of spectacles. I sent four in, and I'm picking up four. - All right. Forget it. - Into the wagon, boys. - How many heads did he cut, Peter? - Five. How am I going to get a job in this town if people think I'm a girl? Oh, so you're going to look for work. I'm the only boy in the family that's not working. That puts a different complexion on things. You see, you got on a handsome city outfit. It's too good to work in. A man hiring you might get the idea that maybe you wouldn't buckle down. - Oh, I'll buckle down. - Why, of course you will. So... maybe we ought to arrange for a little swap. I've been looking for a Buster Brown suit just about that size. So if you'd consider swapping it for a pair of overalls to work in... - With patches on it? - Of course with patches. And a shirt. That's a very, very fine piece of goods. So, I won't take advantage of you. Now, suppose that I... that I give you... two bits to boot. - A quarter? - That's a lot of money. Hank Champlin has to cut a whole head of hair before he makes that much. And he's got six mouths to feed at his house, too. Osh, with the two bits to boot, I can pay him for my fifth head. Be right back. Just one ladder in the house. We'll find something for you to stand on. Oh, that's all right, Mrs Carey. Oh, Mother, if we make the house so beautiful, suppose Mr. Hamilton will want it for himself? Well, the way it looks now, I don't think he would. He could suddenly descend upon us. He could swoop down like the Yellow Peril. - Now, do be careful. - Oh, it's all right. Ooh... just get it up here. Don't you think you ought to have someone to help you? Mother, any idiot can hang wallpaper. Oh! Mother! Mother, come here! I want to show you something! Oh! - Get him out! - He won't bite! His name's Sam! Come here, Sam! I want you to meet Mother! - Get out! - Here, Sam! Ooh! Get him out! - Here, Sam! - Oh, my paper! Don't just stand there! Try to catch him! Here, Sam! Come on! Here! Don't hurt him! Don't hurt my dog! - Get him out! - Catch him! - Stop him! - Catch him! Catch him! - Oh, Sam! - Come here! Come here, boy! I'll get him! He minds me! - See? He loves you, Mother. - I want that dog out of here. - His name's Sam. - Outside. But I promised this man I'd keep him. - What man? - A rich man. I told him I'd board Sam. Why, Peter, an enormous thing like that would eat us out of house and home. But we're getting paid. You explained about everybody doing their share, and Sam's my share. - I'm getting paid 25 cents. - A meal? - A week. - Oh, no. I'm sorry, Peter. We can't do it. You'll have to take him back. But I can't. The man's already left town. Oh, my goodness. The man's gonna pay me the next time he sees me. You mean you didn't get it? - What happened to your hair? - I got it cut. And your eye. You've been in a fight. - They called me a sissy. - And where did you get those rags? These aren't rags. These are my working clothes. - Working clothes? - Ahem. Not to change the subject, but here's a special delivery letter for you, Mrs. Carey. Special delivery? Thank you. - Hey, you ought to see me... - Shh! Special delivery. Oh. What is it? What does it say, Mother? Julia. She's coming to stay with us next week. - Oh, no! - Oh, please! Not Julia! Oh! Best leave these folks to their grief. Come along, Lallie Joy. Do I have to have to, Pa? It's been real interesting here. Yes, come along. See you tomorrow. Goodbye, Osh. And thanks for everything. And I want you two out of those dying gladiator attitudes. Julia is your cousin, and a Carey. And I don't want you to forget that, ever. - Forget it? - Nancy. Try to realize that Julia's story is rather a sad one. She never even knew her mother. And after her dear father died, the Fergusons very kindly took her in and raised her. Kindly took her in? George Ferguson had a guilty conscience. He knew those stocks he sold her father were as worthless as ours. She's the Fergusons' responsibility. Why dump her on us? Because now George writes he can't keep her. Another unfortunate investment. Mm. But there is one thing we're going to do. We're going to welcome her. Really welcome her. As a cousin, and as a young girl who has no other home to go to. Well, we didn't really have a home for a while either. But we didn't go around begging all our old relatives to take us in. Have you both forgotten? We had each other. Julia doesn't know any of this and it would kill her if she found out. So not one word out of either of you. All right, Mother. The more the hungrier. - Find some place for that dog to sleep. - There's room on my bed. Outside. Julia! Well, I'll be nice to her for Mother's sake, but Julia's a pill. Complete. And she does think she's the pink of perfection. # She's the pink of perfection # From her prissy pink nose to her custard complexion # And eleven pink toes # With a chin like a prune # She's a dainty baboon # And she thinks she's the pink of perfection # She's the pink of perfection # Made of skimmed milk and rice # She's a witch's confection # Makes your blood turn to ice # Like a stale Charlotte Russe # With the charm of a moose # And she thinks she's the pink of perfection # Never walked there a creature # With features so fair # Like a Lillian Russell... # Without any hair # She's a princess presiding in diaphanous gowns # With a face and a figure that's the envy of clowns # She's a knock-kneed gazelle # With a voice like a bell # And she thinks she's the pink of perfection # Gee, I can't wait to see her. Here, Sam. Come on, boy. Come on. Come on, boy. Come on. Come on, boy. Here, Sam. Come on, boy. Quiet, boy! Quiet! You're not supposed to be in here. But if you get out early in the morning and don't come in nights till my light goes out, you can always sleep with me. Go to sleep now. What a charming place, I don't think. - What's wrong with it? - Why, everything! If one must have Maine, why not Bar Harbor? This place is truly primitive. - Sure is. - Practically unsettled. Of course, we don't see too many Indians nowadays. But there's plenty of wildlife. What kind of wildlife? Oh, the usual. Not too many moose. Some wild cats. - Lots of bears. - And the ordinary small stuff. A wolf or two. Fox. Skunks. - Snakes? - Oh, naturally. But only about one out of ten is poisonous. So when we get bit we just have whiskey. Even Peter. Goodness, don't they even fix the roads in this backwoods place? These aren't roads. Just wilderness trails. Rapids ahead! Hold tight! Maybe we'll make it! Hello, Peter. Let me out of this thing. - She's not knock-kneed, Nancy. - Shh! Julia! - Oh, dear. - Aunt Margaret. - Well. Welcome to the yellow house. - Why, thank you. - Did you have a pleasant trip? - It was a nightmare! No parlor car on the train. And this wilderness! When I think of last summer, the glorious time Gladys Ferguson and I had in Easthampton. Come along. But I must remember the last thing that dear Mrs. Ferguson said to me. "Don't let poverty drag you down, Julia." "Keep high thoughts and don't let them get soiled by the grime of daily living." Oh, lovely. Especially the part about the grime of daily living. - A pill. - Complete. Utter. I think she's pretty. - Well, you go play with Sam. Vanish. - Huh? Scat! Naturally, we dressed for dinner every night. Gladys Ferguson's French maid laid out our dresses for us. Really! We didn't have to turn a hand. Aunt Margaret, I do wish you could see Gladys's wardrobe. All her things are exquisite. Nothing machine-stitched has ever touched her skin. Everything hand sewn by dear little nuns in Switzerland. Oh, and the dances, Nancy! Did I tell you that Gladys doesn't know one boy that doesn't go to Harvard? Yes, you did. If you'll excuse me, Julia, I have to get our boy to bed. Come along, Peter. You're going to sleep with me tonight. Won't that be nice? Oh, no, I can't! Julia has to sleep in your room until we get another bed in Nancy's. - Please! You don't know! - Not another word. Good night, Julia. Breakfast at 7:00. - Good night, children. - Night. - 7:00 in the morning? - Mm. Good night, Aunt Margaret. - But, Mother, you don't... - Run along, Peter. - Now, where was I? - Ah, just a minute, Julia. - Everything locked up tight, Gilly? - Oh, sure. - Ooh, dark tonight, isn't it? - Inky. - Wouldn't like to be out alone. - Uh-uh. - I remember when... - Shh! What was that noise? - Sure you've got the bear locks on? - Wouldn't dare forget them. Oh, well, I guess we're safe enough. Safe from what? Oh, nothing, nothing. But this is the wilderness. Oh, well, I should think out here, nobody would... Oh, nobody would. - They're just after honey. - Who is? Well, I guess we've done all that's humanly possible. Humanly. Are you ready for bed? Or would you rather sit here alone and read a book? Oh, no, I think I'll go up with you. Hey, check the back door again, Gil. Better be safe than sorry. Right. After you, Julia. Who's there? I tried to tell you! I tried to tell you! Julia! Julia! Julia! Oh! Julia! Try to stop crying, dear. You'll make yourself sick. It was deliberately planned. On purpose! - They're all against me! - Nobody's against you in this house. We want you to be part of the family. But we have a little boy and that little boy has a great big dog. Nobody cares what happens to me. - Julia? - Oh! I heated some milk. I'll take it, dear. See that Peter sleeps in his bed. I'm keeping Julia here with me. Yes, Mother. Julia? Good night, Mother. Good night, dear. How do you like that? Pink of Perfection raises the roof and lands in a bed of roses. Where's Peter? I don't know. He's not in his room. Peter? Peter? Come on. Bed, Peter. You can sleep in your own room tonight. - Sam too? - No. But if Sam can't sleep with me, can I sleep with Sam? - He's had a terrible scare. - Come on to bed now, Peter. Nancy, Sam's upset! I know. Bye, Sam. Very good. Very good. You're gonna be a real carpenter. Osh! Look, Osh! Hm. He climbed up there all by himself. He likes me. Mm, that's a mighty handsome critter. He has a very ugly face. Maybe he's thinking the same thing about you! You know, the little critters of nature, they don't know that they're ugly. - They don't? - Except one. # Once a lonely caterpillar sat and cried # To a sympathetic beetle by his side # "I've got nobody to hug" # "I'm such an ugly bug" # Then a spider and a dragonfly replied # "If you're serious and want to win a bride" # "Come along with us to the glorious annual Ugly Bug Ball" # Come on, let's crawl, gotta crawl, gotta crawl to the Ugly Bug Ball # To the Ball, to the Ball, # And a happy time we'll have there # One and all, at the Ugly Bug Ball # While the crickets clicked their tricky melodies # All the ants were fancy dancing with the fleas # Then up from under the ground # The worms came squirming around # Oh, they danced until their legs were nearly lame # Every little crawling creature you could name # Everyone was glad, what a time they had # They were so happy they came - # Come on, let's crawl - # Gotta crawl, gotta crawl - # To the Ugly Bug Ball - # To the Ball, to the Ball # And at happy time we'll have there, one and all # At the Ugly Bug Ball # Then our caterpillar saw a pretty queen # She was beautiful in yellow, black and green # He said, "Would you care to dance?" # Their dancing led to romance # Then she sat upon his caterpillar knees # And he gave his caterpillar queen a squeeze # Soon they'll honeymoon, build a big cocoon # Thanks to the Ugly Bug Ball # Come on, let's crawl, gotta crawl, gotta crawl # To the Ugly Bug Ball, to the Ball, to the Ball # And a happy time we'll have there, one and all # At the Ugly Bug Ball" # Osh. Mother wants you. Not too hot, Lallie Joy. Test it with your elbow. Julia, you can't take a bath in here. I'm tired of lugging kettles of hot water upstairs. At the Fergusons', Gladys and I had our own bath, right next to our room, with plenty of hot running water. This isn't the Fergusons'. This is the Careys'. Well, it seems to me that if the Careys are silly enough to spend money on a house they don't own, the first thing they should have done was to install civilized plumbing in this primitive place. Well, really! - Where is your ma? - In the sewing room. Primitive or not, the Careys are just as clean as the Fergusons. - Close the door, please. - Lallie Joy, you're not her maid. Oh, I don't mind. - Did you want me for something? - Yes, Osh. I've been figuring. Facing facts. I hate facts. Well, there's one very unpleasant one. We haven't enough money. And if we want to stay in this house, we won't be able to go on fixing it. But, Mother, we haven't even started on the outside yet. We'll have to live in it the way it is. Oh, no! There's no hurry about paying me. We'll figure that out some day. It won't do, Osh. You're too kind. We can't accept it. There's the second rent payment due Mr. Hamilton. Mr. Hamilton. Rent money. I clean forgot. I got a letter. It's in my pocket. No, I must have left it in my coat. Did he get my letter about the improvements? Oh, yes, sir. Yes, sir. I put yours in with the one I wrote him about that time. He was so darned overjoyed about what you were doing to the old house, you know, adding to its value, that he wouldn't even consider taking any rent money. No rent money?! - Mother! Won't that make a difference? - We can't accept it. - Mr. Hamilton is very... - Hold your horses there, Mrs. Carey. He wants a favor in return. - A favor? From us? - Yes. He wants you to find a suitable place for his dear mother's picture. - His mother's picture? - Of course! Dear old soul. Portrait of a lady. - Where is she, Osh? - Well... well, he hid her. He hid her away some place safe. He wrote it down real clear, but it's just gone right out of my head. If you'll bring the letter, we'll follow the instructions to the last detail. - She'll have a place of honor. - That's the idea. He wrote something about a simple little vase of flowers. On her birthday. Of course. Her birthday. When is it? Well, he... Well, it seems like he said it was along the fall of the year. - Halloween. - Halloween? - People are born on Halloween. - It works out perfectly, Mother. It'll tie in with our housewarming. We could have a ceremony. You know, candles, a simple bouquet, her lovely painting above. - Probably by Sargent. Maybe Whistler. - Sounds too good to be true. There's Gilly now. You see, Mother? We were fated to live here! - Mariah, I was uh... - Don't try to stop me, Mr. Popham. Well, of course not. You making a social call? I ain't feeling social, Mr. Popham. I'm here to talk gospel truth to Mrs. Carey. I searched the store for a letter from Mr. Hamilton and I didn't find one. This whole thing's gone far enough. Uh... Well, what are you going to tell the Careys, Mariah? My suspicions. Maybe it's why I look on the dark side, living with Mr. Popham and him so hopeful. Well, he certainly keeps our spirits up. That's 'cause you don't get him steady. Hopefulness at meals. Hopefulness days. Hopefulness nights. One everlasting stream of hopefulness. Even as a boy, Mr. Popham always looked on the bright side, whether there was any or not. His mother and father got terrible sick of it. It's a wonderful faculty, seeing the bright side of everything. Wonderful tiresome. I like to believe in a cloud that's a first-class cloud. Thick and black clean through. I get tired to death of Mr. Popham's silver linings. We all believe in silver linings and rainbows. And... Well, I don't. I always expect the worst and I ain't ever been disappointed. - It's why I came today, Mrs. Carey. - Is something wrong, Mrs. Popham? My goodness. Osh! Osh! - Papa! - Mr. Popham! - Oh, he's unconscious! - Oh, speak to me, Papa. Ossian, can you hear me? Mariah. Julia, go tell Gilly to get the doctor. No, no, no! No, I'll be all right. I'll be all right. Just take me home, Mariah. It's my leg. Crank her up, Lallie Joy. This is for his head. I'll be all right once I get home. Oh! Be careful, Osh. For his head. That's it. - Hold on. - Take care! - Good morning, Mrs. Carey. - Good morning. This is Charles Bryant. He's to be our new school teacher. - Mrs. Carey. - We've been expecting you, Mr. Bryant. You seem very young to be undertaking such a chore. - He's just out of college. - Oh, I love his name. Charles Bryant. So dignified! - He looks young to be a teacher. - Isn't he handsome? Aren't you sorry now you finished that elegant finishing school? It might be the gracious thing to do if we asked him to tea some time. Julia, that's an inspiration! How about today for refreshments on the lawn? - Well, maybe a small affair. - Yes. Oh, we'd better ask some others so it's not too obvious. But we'll start with him. We needed new faces. New ideas. And laughter. Mr. Lord forgets what Beulah has given the Careys. - A new life. - Oh, thank you. Oh... Here are two more Careys. Young ladies, I'd like you to meet Mr. Bryant. He'll be your new teacher this fall. - How do you do? - Oh, Mr. Lord, you've forgotten. I finished at Miss Somerville's. Then, Charles, may I present Miss Nancy Carey and dear old Miss Julia Carey. - My pleasure, young ladies. - Excuse me. Oh... Mr. Bryant, my cousin Julia and I are having a little afternoon thing. - Affair. - Affair today. - We do hope you'll be able to show up. - Attend. Attend. And get acquainted with everybody. - The thing's spur of the moment... - Impromptu. Impromptu thing. Affair. And we do hope you'll be able to come. Of course we hope that everyone will be able to come. But first, will you? - Oh, yes. I'd be delighted. - Oh! Oh. Julia. Is it all right if Julia and I invite a few friends to the house this afternoon? Why, I don't see why not, dear. Oh, good. We'd have died if you said no 'cause we've already invited him. Him? Nancy and Julia have invited friends for a lawn party this afternoon. - Will you be sure to come? - Be happy to. Good. Now. Let's see which one of you ladies is going to be old Mrs. Hamilton. Now, I've seen you some place before. Ossian, dinner's on the table and it's getting colder by the minute. Oh! Mr. Popham, what are you doing with them women? It's the Sabbath! Well, looking for a work of art to take over to the Careys'. They've got a lot of wall space there. Hand me that old apron. Can't take any of that junk. She's got a kind face. It's a pity she's got printing on her. There's only one that's fit to hang. Mrs. Griswold. She wasn't much to look at, but she was a good woman. Spent her life on the opposing side. And if she hadn't went down in the wreck off Nantucket Light, the demon rum would have been chased off the New England coast. A real martyr. Insisted on going down with the ship. Everybody else was saved. Crew and captain. Hm. That's a mighty inspiring story. Mariah. Relax and enjoy yourself today at the Careys', will you? This is no time to go upsetting them with cold facts. Very well, Mr. Popham. But the town constable will come in here one day, catch you up on your sins, and you'll spend your life in state prison. Ain't you forgetting the town constable is named Ossian Popham? Where's the cake knife? Where are all the napkins? - And where's Julia? - Upstairs in her room. Primping. Oh, charming. "We'll give a little social affair. We'll invite..." Oh! Here he comes! - Mr. Bryant! - Oh! Miss Nancy! You must be exhausted, peddling all the way from town. Oh, it keeps me in condition. All the same, I think you could use a nice glass of lemonade. Oh, that sounds great. I couldn't help noticing your Phi Beta Kappa key. You must be terribly proud of it. Oh, well, they're really quite common. They're unique in Beulah. I do hope you don't find yourself in an intellectual desert here, Mr. Bryant. Ice cream, Gilly. Without anyone really to talk to, I mean. - What did you major in, Mr Bryant? - English Lit, but I... Oh, literature! I love it! Poetry. "This is the forest primeval, the murmuring pines and the hemlocks..." - Here. - Two scoops. Ah... Oh. No napkins. I'll get them. - Mr. Bryant? - Oh. Thank you. You're rather late arriving at the little affair we are giving. Dear Nancy, you look so hot and exhausted. Bathe your face and run a comb through your hair. - I've been working. - That's what I mean. You look it. Oh, Mr. Bryant, you shouldn't be standing out here in this hot sun. I think we can find some shade. Shade sounds great. Oh! - Oh, Nancy. - Osh. I've just remembered where old Mrs. Hamilton's picture was hid. - Oh, where is she? - Since I mislaid Mr. Hamilton's letter, I ain't been able to sleep nights. Then driving over here, it came to me like a ray of light. She's in there! - In the Dutch oven? - Just like the letter said. - Funny place to put your mother. - The Dutch oven is cool and dry. Wouldn't have harmed the old lady if she'd been put in there alive. You'll be out soon! A dear little gold football. And to think that you won it! Please tell me all about it. Oh, that was the game when Dartmouth fumbled on our... Well, I wondered where everybody was. What do you have there, Julia? A football! "Brown University. Charles Bryant." Brown... You must be Bandy Bryant! I've seen you play! You retrieved the ball on the five-yard line, ran 90... He knows what he did, Nancy. I like to relive it. It was a glorious moment in the great American scene. - Mr. Bryant... - Here we have a renowned athlete sitting under a tree! You're probably dying to be batting at something. - Oh, well, I... - I don't play football but how about a game of croquet? Fine. I can't wait till school begins. I shall be taking literature. - I have another turn now, Mr. Bryant? - Yes. I think I'll try for Julia. - Your turn, Miss Julia. - Oh... Oh, dear. Nancy's so athletic. - What am I doing wrong? - May I? Put that hand there. That one there. Now you have a good chance to knock me away from the wicket. Oh, I couldn't do that! It's part of the game. Hit him! No, no. Like this. That's right. Oh, I really can't hit you, Mr. Bryant. Oh, for the love of Pete, it's part of the game. Is it? Nice shot, Miss Julia... if a little out of bounds. I won! I won? # Three creaky wooden stairs # Those squeaky rocking chairs # The well-worn welcome mat # The lattice vines # The happy times # All I wanna do # When the day is through # Is linger here # On the front porch with you # From the wicker swing # While the night birds sing # We'll watch the fireflies sparking # Do some sparking too # How the hours fly # As the moon drifts by # How sweet the air # As we stare at the sky # Oh, how I love to linger here like this # Hold your hand and steal a kiss or two # On the front porch with you # All I wanna do # When the day is through # Is linger here # On the front porch with you # From the wicker swing # While the night birds sing # We'll watch the fireflies sparking - # Do some sparking too - # Some sparking too # How the hours fly # As the moon drifts by # How sweet the air # As we stare at the sky # Oh, how I love # To linger here like this # Hold your hand # And steal a kiss or two # On the front porch # With you # Well, after all the time she took primping! She could have at least hung up her clothes. What does she think she is? A guest in this house or something? # Hold your hand and steal a kiss or two # Oh, I thought you'd be in bed. With your stuff piled all over it? - You left this place like a pigsty. - Did I? Oh, you know, there's nothing like a college man. Oh, I do hope you and your mother will scrape and save to get Gilly into a good college. Give one member of this family a chance to amount to something. - What did you say? - I said... I heard you. I want you to know, Julia Carey, you make me sick. I'm sick of Gladys Ferguson's clothes and her French maid and her lace and... I'm just sick of all that blah blah blah about the Fergusons. Oh, that's right. Tear my dress. Pull the buttons right off. It's only imported. Oh, you're very imported. But I'm tired of doing your share and picking up after you. - Don't pick up after me. - I won't. Imported chemise. French silk. Handmade shirt waist. English Lisle. Crepe de Chine drawers. No, they weren't over there, they were over there. Oh, I know what's wrong with you. You're jealous. Jealous? Me, jealous? Oh! Why yes, because of Charles. Oh, so it's "Charles" now, is it? "Oh, Mr. Bryant. I couldn't hit your croquet ball." "I'm too weak and dainty." "But I might take a weensy push at Big Jim Jeffries-Nancy Carey's ball." Whack! "Mercy! I only sent her 100 yards, but I couldn't hit you." Hilarious. If you knew how you look pretending to be dumb. - I am dumb. - Oh, no, you're not. - I am so. - Ha, ha. Oh, I can see it's no use trying to talk to you. You're a child, a jealous child, growing up like a hoodlum. The Fergusons might make a lady of you. - My mother hasn't? - She hasn't succeeded. Why don't you go back to the Fergusons? They're so wonderful. Oh, sure. They dumped you here with us. They didn't care. George Ferguson only raised you 'cause he felt guilty when he lost all your father's money. If he hadn't lost my father's money, my mother might have a French maid and I could have imported dresses and Gilly go to college. - I don't believe you. - Oh, Julia! I'm sorry. I... Aunt Margaret! Is what Nancy told me true? - What's the matter? - Mother, I've done a terrible thing. I was mad at her and it just slipped out. Tell her what you said. Oh, Mother, you know what I said. Nancy, how could you? Julia, really, I... No matter what Nancy says, the Fergusons love me. Of course they do. And we love you too, Julia. And, dear, I've had a letter from George Ferguson. He writes that his affairs are looking brighter now, and they're ready to take you back. Take me back? I've put off telling you because I hoped you'd care for us as much as we care for you. But it has to be your choice. Oh, please choose us, Julia. I do. Oh, Aunt Margaret. I don't want to go back! I'm happy here. - Please let me stay. - Please, Mother. Oh, of course. - Oh, Nancy! - Julia. It's all been my fault. I'll do my share and I'll never mention the Fergusons again. Oh, and my dresses. They weren't imported. I made them myself. You did? If I do all the dishes, will you help me with my dress for the housewarming? When it comes to sewing, I'm all thumbs. I have the most wonderful book of patterns. Gladys Fer... I mean, it's from Paris. The latest styles. Really? A Paris gown! Good night... sisters. That's the best one you've done. Who are you bringing to the dance tonight, Dig? - Opal. - Opal? I never heard of her. - Must be one of your city giris. - She lives on the other side of Beulah. I've known her since about the first grade. Funny thing. I always used to think she was kinda clunky. Till I met some of those city giris. You can have 'em. Gee, Dig. You liked the city, didn't you? Well, it's like Pa always says. The city is all right for city folks. Second night I was there, I wished I was back in Beulah. Why? I was walking along the streets and all these people were rushing by me. And they looked like... like ants. I could no more talk to one of them than I could talk to an ant. Well, it's great you're home. I guess you'll be wanting your job back, driving the truck. No, I got a good offer to work down at the sawmill. So the job's still yours. Gee, thanks! Well, we'd better be getting the rest of that stuff up here. I remember, the night before I left... I was talking to Pa about wanting to see city lights and the gals and all. You know what he said to me? Pa said, "'Mid pleasures and palaces, wherever you may roam, be it ever so humble, there's no place like home." - He sang it? - No, he said it. He made it right up. You know, Gil, if Pa had felt like it, he would have made a great poet. Yeah. Peter! No! I was just trying to see what Mrs. Hamilton looks like. Not till tonight at the ceremony, as we promised Osh. Where are those giris? Don't they realize we have a million things to do? You go back and carve your pumpkin. I wish I was dead! Lallie Joy, why do you wish you were dead? - Look at it! - Oh, my goodness! - Lallie Joy! - Where did you dig that up? Ma made it. I'll just die if I have to wear it to the party. Oh, it's not so bad. We'll just make a few changes and it'll be all right. - Sure. - You don't need this. Right. Get rid of these. - That's all too... - Oh! My chest shows! Too bunchy here. - All right. Out of it. - Oh, there's nothing to it. We'll just have to start all over again, that's all. Oh, my dress! What will Ma say? Oh, don't worry about the dress. It's what's inside that counts. # You must walk feminine, talk feminine # Smile and beguile feminine # Utilize your femininity # That's what every girl should know # If she wants to catch a beau... I just want Gilly. # Dance feminine, glance feminine # Act shy and sigh feminine # Compliment his masculinity # That's what every girl should know # If she wants to catch a beau... You're bobbling too much! # Let him do the talking # Men adore good listeners # Laugh but not loudly, ha-ha, if he should choose to tell a joke - # Be radiant - # But delicate # Memorize the rules of etiquette # Be demure, sweet and pure # Hide the real you # You must look feminine, dress feminine # You're at your best feminine # Emphasize your femininity # That's what every girl should know # Femininity, femininity # That's the way to catch a beau... # - Nancy! - Coming, Mother. # Dance feminine, one, two, three, glance feminine, one, two, three Knees together, now watch your feet. You're not a duck! Oh, Gilly, why don't you look where you're going? I'm sorry. I suppose I should have been looking. Oh, I thought you were my brother, Gilly. I hope I'm not intruding on anything. Oh, no. No. You see, we're having a party tonight in the barn. Paying a tribute to Mr. Hamilton's dear old mother. Oh. It's the least we could do. He owns the place. Oh, he does? Mm. Not that he ever cared much about it. You should have seen the mess it was in before we took over. - Took over? - From Mr. Hamilton. He gave us carte blanche, so this is a housewarming. - A huge affair. Everyone's coming. - Nancy! - Right there, Mother. - Well, I mustn't keep you. I don't suppose you're stopping over in Beulah. - Well, I hadn't... - I guess not. It's just a little town. - Nancy. - I think someone's calling you. Careful of the wheel. About this thing tonight. It's open house. Terribly open. To anyone who wants to come. Friends, acquaintances, total strangers. It should be a very interesting party. Have fun. - Bye. - Bye. Nancy! For the last time, we're waiting for all those things. - Ahem. - Be with you in a minute. Quite all right. Thank you. Important letter to a friend of mine. Rich property owner here. He lives in China. Leaves me in complete charge of his affairs. Big responsibility. I've got to get this here off to Mr. Hamilton. Then I'll take it. Tom Hamilton? Well, I didn't know you for a minute. Well. Didn't know you was coming back. You gave me quite a shock. Thank you. Um... I just drove by the yellow house. There's some people out there. Yes. Lovely folks by the name of Carey has been living there. I see. How long have they been living there, Osh? Well, not long, as you figure time. Wonderful folks, the Careys. They put in a new chain pump for that old wooden one. Who gave them permissin to live there? - You did. - I did? I've never even heard of them. Nobody asked me. - Why didn't you write? - Well, I did. Yes, sir. I did. I wrote you every week and kept you abreast of everything that was happening. - I didn't get any letters. - That's right. You see, I didn't mail them. Popham, what's going on? Now just wait. Just hear me out. You see, I didn't know how you'd take the situation and here was these nice folks that needed a house and they fell plum in love with yours and I let them have it. I wrote you all about it. Put 'em up here, where Mariah wasn't likely to look. Here they are. The lot of them. The ones I wrote and the ones that Nancy Carey wrote you. Hers are on top. I wrote you because Mariah was nagging me to get your permissin. Nancy wrote hers from a grateful young heart. I hope you read hers before you make up your mind what you've got to do. Who's that, Mr. Popham? Mariah, for once in your life, pray for a silver lining. Mother, must I? Yes, Gilly, you must. Osh has been our true friend and he was pleased when he learned you'd be Lallie Joy's partner tonight. Lallie Joy, Gilly's waiting. - Remember now. Walk feminine. - Talk feminine. Go on! Good evening, Gilly. - Good evening, Mr. Bryant. - Lallie Joy. - Good evening, Charles. - Mrs. Carey. - Won't you come in? - Charles! How's my hair? - Fine. - Well, how do I look? Fine. But you said you should keep a man waiting. Oh, did I say that? Nancy, dear, you'll understand some day. You've got plenty of time. - I didn't think you'd even be ready. - I'll never keep you waiting, Charles. - Hi, Julia. Opal, this is Julia. - How do you do, Julia? Hello, Mr. Bryant. No use standing around out here. Party's inside. Nancy? Nancy? Everyone's over at the barn. These slippers, Mother. I told you they'd be too big. Well, I'd hoped you'd grow into them. Oh, Mother, you still think of me as a child. I suppose I do. Anyway, your guests are waiting. A fine little fixer I am. Everybody has somebody. Not me, though. Not me. Uh... not I. There are plenty of young people. You can join them. Join? It isn't the same thing, Mother. I wouldn't have minded a year ago. Even a month. But... I don't know. Somehow, I just have a different feeling, that's all. Well, if you don't want to go in alone, I'll send Gilly over. Mother! Gilly's a relative. I couldn't go into the ballroom with a relative. No, I must go alone. I must do it alone. Well, if you're sure. Florence Nightingale. The Crimea. Joan of Arc. Maid of Orleans. Mrs. Pankhurst. Votes for women. Don't take too long deciding which one you want to be. Chin up. Smiling, the boy fell dead. Boy?! Oh, no, never! I'd much rather... # Walk feminine, talk feminine # Smile and beguile feminine... # Oh, allow me, please. I brought along a friend of mine, Nancy. - I don't think you know Tom... - Oh, we've met. I decided I couldn't afford to miss this party. Should be a very um... interesting evening. Well, to think that you know Osh Popham, the most remarkable human being. Fairy godfather. If it hadn't been for him, we wouldn't be in this lovely house. I don't think Mr. Popham told me the whole story. Oh, I know. He's so modest. Self-effacing. So I'll start at the beginning. Where was I? Oh, yes, I remember. Well, it was Osh, Osh, Osh, from the very start. From the first moment we arrived... - Evening, Clove. - Well, evening, cousin. Say, you're looking worse than I ever seen you. I am worse. I'm horrible. Well, that's not a fit mood for you to be in for a party. I've got some nice applejack here. This will fix you up fine. There now. Take a swig of this. Pull you right out of yourself. Here's to the state of Maine. Good evening. How are you? Nice to have you with us. Digby. Lallie Joy. Oh, there's dear Osh. - Who's that? - I never saw him before. City fella. Osh. You two stay together. It's time for Mother to start the ceremonies. Oh, yes. The ceremonies. It won't amount to much. It'll be kind of dull. - Like to go out for a smoke? - No. I'm sure that I'll enjoy them. Will you gather closer, please? Friends and neighbors. As you know, the Carey family would not be living in the yellow house if it were not for the generosity of Mr. Thomas Hamilton. He has made but one modest request, that we hang the portrait of his beloved mother in a place of honor. - Mr. Popham! - Mariah. Don't say it. - You look near to apoplexy. - Mr. Popham! Calm yourself. Here. Drink this. And then I'll listen to you. And now may I present my daughter, Nancy, who will unveil this lovely portrait. - Where's Peter? - I won't! I won't! I won't do it! I won't! Mr. Hamilton, wherever you may be, ankle-deep in fetid rice paddies or splendid in a gay rickshaw, delirious with fever, or sated with oriental dances, we know your heart is with us tonight. Amen. Tonight, we're unveiling your mother, as per your request. We have taken her from the oven where she's been hidden for so many years... - Funny place, the oven. - His mother? Of course we're not going to keep her hanging in the barn. No, we're gonna find a permanent place where she'll always be enshrined in our hearts. No doubt some of you have heard me kidding about old Mr. Hamilton, calling him the Yellow Peril... Well, that was only because I thought that maybe the old gentleman might suddenly return, and snatch the yellow house right away from us. Peter? To light these candles, I give you a twig of rosemary... for remembrance. This is a very special mother. Ladies and gentlemen, dear friends... Mr. Hamilton's mother. She was a good woman. Just where did you dig up that thing? Reminds me, I forgot to ask. How is your mother? She's fine. Having a whirl on the Riviera. She wouldn't live in Beulah if you gave it to her. That's why Father left the yellow house to me. What are you going to do? Oh, I'll see you later. There you are. Did you enjoy the ceremony? - Well, sort of. - I must admit her face was a shock. Yes, it was a bit of a shock to me, too. But I'm sure she has a heart of gold, don't you, Mr... - I'm sure. - I don't think Osh told me your name. Hamilton. Tom Hamilton. Hamilton. That's a familiar sounding name. - Tom Hamilton. - Tom Hamilton. Any relation to... - Close? - Very close. Not our Mr. Hamilton? Not the Yellow Peril Hamilton? Well, I think you look more like a Yellow Peril. Uh... what are you going to do to me? Right now? Dance with you. - And don't talk. - Wasn't going to. Well, Mariah, looks like that black cloud has a silver lining. Didn't I tell you? Everything always turns out all right in the end.

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