Think that's good enough?
For what?
For that homework we were
supposed to do last week.
Golly, Chip, that
was two weeks ago.
Yeah, Mrs. Bergen said I
had to hand mine in tomorrow,
or else I'd have
to do an extra one.
Well, it's okay.
Hey, that's a real
neat-looking tail.
It's a propeller.
Propeller?
On a horse?
It's a bomber.
Boy, you better try again.
Yeah, here we are.
Rob, I promise you,
by the end of this week,
under my expert tutelage,
we'll have those
muscles of yours like rock.
Yeah, well, my, uh,
my first preliminary
match is next Friday.
You'll be ready for it.
Good. Watch it.
We'll set this stuff
up in your room,
make a regular gym out of it.
And Mark Davis is going to
have his book report hanging.
And Teddy Fullbrook
has his dopey clay head,
and right in the middle
is going to be my world,
which I made from
wax, which is scientific.
So what?
So, just that everybody
in the whole class
is either going to be on the
table or tacked on the wall
for open house tomorrow night.
Where do you think you're
going with that load of scrap iron?
Hey, guess what, Bub, I
just made the wrestling squad.
I thought you
didn't weigh enough.
Well, he put on two
pounds this week.
Yeah, boy, I thought I
was never going to make it.
I was stuck at 123
for almost six months.
But you see, Bub,
it's all new fat, blubber.
I'm going to harden him
up with this stuff. Yeah.
Here, dust that stuff off
before you come in here.
I'm right in the middle
of my fall housecleaning.
Fall housecleaning? Yeah.
When'd you start that?
Today.
I'm a little behind.
This is for the fall of 1956.
Here, take this and shake
it out while he's dusting.
It'll do you good.
Besides, it'll help take
off some of that blubber.
There.
Now you can come over to
my house and see my wax world.
It's in the freezer,
on account of my
mother said it might melt.
Hey, Mike!
Mike!
Boy, are you guys making a mess.
Is this okay?
Yeah, that's fine.
Really?
Oh, sure.
Oh, I couldn't draw a sailboat
like that when I was your age.
What are you doing that for?
It wasn't a sailboat;
it was a bomber.
Hey, Dad, guess what.
I just hit 125.
Well, good... 125 what?
Pounds.
I-I-I finally made
the wrestling squad.
You're supposed
to hit 125 pounds,
and I finally made
it. Wonderful.
I'm going to set up a regular
training schedule for him.
Why, by the end of this week,
he'll be a regular tower
of brute strength, like I am.
Hey... Ahh...
You'd better tighten
that collar lock.
Yeah, what are you trying to
do, for Pete's sake, anyhow?
R... uh, ruin these things?
Mm-hmm, would you, uh, strong
men let me through here, please?
Oh, whoops, excuse me.
Well, the artists at work, hmm?
Hello, Mr. Douglas.
I made the world out of
wax, and Mrs. Bergen...
Our teacher... told my mother
that I had a real artistic
bent and that I should put it
in the freezer till
tomorrow night.
Well, nothing like a frozen
artistic bent, I always say.
You coming to open house
tomorrow night at school?
Sure, I promised, didn't I?
I'm gonna have 12
cups of punch this year.
Twelve?
Yeah. Last year, that
clunky old room mother
only let me have seven.
Is this okay?
Sure.
Chip doesn't really have
an artistic bent like me.
Well, I wouldn't
say that, Sudsy.
I think this is a very
well-done drawing.
Honest? Sure.
What is it?
Well, it's a...
Don't you know? Sure, I know.
I want to know if you know.
Oh.
Well, it's... it's a butterfly.
A beautiful one, too.
It's a bomber.
Oh. Well, I guess I'd better
go and get washed up.
But you be sure and
pick up all these papers
before you come in, hmm?
Whoever heard of a
butterfly with four engines?
Outside, and don't
bring it in the house
till it's hosed,
wiped, or dusted.
Well, if I have a
choice, I'll take dusted.
Oh, I thought that might
be Mike and Robbie
with some more of those weights.
What's that?
It's Mike and Robbie with
some more of those weights.
I thought I told you fellas
to tighten that collar lock.
I did. It was the other end.
It was the other end.
Oh, Bub...
if, uh, Chip should happen to
show you a drawing, it's a bomber.
A bomber.
Mrs. Bergen said
even if my world
is going to be right in
the middle of the table,
that I ought to be modest
and tell everybody else
how good they are,
even if I don't think so.
That's really swell, Chip.
That's a real swell drawing.
You're just saying.
No, honest.
Look, Mr. O'Casey.
Chip finally drew
a neat drawing.
Well...
That's all right, that's
really all right, Chip.
What is it?
What is it?
Well, there isn't any
doubt about what it is.
It's a bomber.
It's as plain as the
nose on your face.
Here's the
propellers, the wings,
here's your tailpiece... Well...
What's the matter?
This time, it was a sailboat.
Sailboat?
Boy, that's really a sailboat.
Yes, sir, and then...
we'll put some lines
through the bottom here
to sort of give it
a feeling of water.
You see what I mean?
Gosh, Bub, I didn't
know you were an artist.
Can I take it and
show it to Dad?
You can take it, period.
You mean I can
have it... keepsies?
Keepsies or throwsies-awaysies.
It's yoursies.
Gosh, Bub, if I could do
anything half as good as this,
Mrs. Bergen would hang
me the minute she saw it.
Now, don't start
kidding me, Chipper.
Seventy-two.
Seventy-three.
Oh.
Hey, hey, now.
No goofing off, let's go.
Ice cream and cake?
Yeah, well, that's
absolute poison for you.
Aw, come on, Mike.
Nothing but red meat
and leafy vegetables.
Now, build those muscles.
But Mike, I just
want... Up, down.
Yeah, but Mike,
please... Up, down!
Come on.
Seventy-four.
Seventy-four.
Seventy-five.
Seventy-five.
Good.
Darn it, darn it, darn it.
What's the matter, Chip?
Every time I try
and copy this darn picture,
it gets worse and worse.
What's the matter with
you? That really looks good.
Yeah, but Bub... You can
tell what it is; it's a sailboat.
Did you show it to Dad yet?
Yeah, but Bub... Well,
did you show Bub, too?
Yeah, but Bub was the
one who... Well, then,
what's the matter with it?
Just sign your name and forget
about it.
Sign my name?
Sure, I got more junk signed...
"Robbie Douglas, age nine."
Rob, don't stand
there softening up.
It takes work, work, work.
Come on, three hot
laps around the block,
and you'll be all finished.
I'm all finished now.
Rob, up and at 'em.
That's it.
Lots of fire!
Chip Douglas,
I can't believe it.
You can't?
Well, you ought to be
ashamed of yourself.
Well, it was just because...
Here's a perfectly lovely
picture of a sailboat...
Perfectly lovely...
And yet you told me
you couldn't even
draw a straight line.
Well... a sailboat doesn't
have many straight lines.
Are your father and mo...
Uh, Mr. O'Casey... coming
to open house tonight?
Oh, sure.
Well, don't you
think they'll be proud
when they see it hanging?
I'm going to put it right on
the wall over Sudsy's world.
Oh, no, please, Mrs. Bergen.
If you put it there, they'll see
it isn't as good
as what Sudsy did.
Now, Chip, remember our slogan:
"Good workers take
pride in their work."
Like me... I'm proud,
aren't I, Mrs. Bergen?
Yes, Sudsy, you certainly are.
There.
Now, don't you think
they'll be surprised?
Yes, ma'am, I guess they will.
Yeah, but this is
the worst open house
we've ever had at school.
Oh, come on now,
Chip, I bet it'll be just fine.
All it is is a bunch of junk.
And who wants to
see a goofy camel
that Billy Flinney made
out of pipe cleaners?
Hey, I forgot my house key.
No, I got mine, Bub, come on.
Oh, good. If I was a parent,
this whole open house would
make me sick at my stomach.
Oh, you must be Mr. Pfeiffer,
Hubert's father. Oh...
I'm Mrs. Bergen.
He doesn't call me Hubert,
except when he's mad at me.
It's very nice to know
you, Mrs. Bergen.
I understand Sudsy's
created the world
from four dozen candles.
Yes, isn't it imaginative?
I moved it closer
to the light... I was
afraid it wasn't
showing good enough.
And don't you think if
I go over to the door,
I can show people how
to come straight over here
and not waste their time
looking at any of the other stuff?
I'm sure it's just a stage.
When you put water in
Frankie Irving's irrigation project,
the whole thing turns to mud.
Chip, here's the fourth grade.
This is your room, isn't it?
Yeah. I don't understand you.
For two weeks, you've
been making us promise
to come to your open
house, and now suddenly
you-you're doing your
best to keep us away.
Yeah, and after I baked
a big batch of cookies.
Now, don't you think
you'd better take us in,
instead of letting us
stand out here in the hall?
All there is in there
is just a bunch of junk.
If we go down the hall, we
can go see the boys' lavatory.
If you just want to go
straight over to that table,
you can see the world made
by Sudsy Pfeiffer, age nine.
Just go straight ahead,
and you'll bump into it.
Hi, Chip. Where you been?
I already had six punches.
Come on, Mr. O'Casey
and Mr. Douglas.
See my wax world. Yes.
He doesn't want to see
your clunky old wax world.
Chip, what is the
matter with you?
Aw, he's just probably mad
because the teacher
took down his picture.
What do you mean, she
took down my picture?
It isn't on the wall.
Mrs. Bergen took it down.
Isn't on the wall?
What picture is this, Chip?
Chip drew a picture... ow!
Mr. Douglas, I'm Mrs. Bergen,
and I certainly owe
you an apology.
An apology? Yes.
I want to tell you both that
Chip drew the loveliest picture
of a sailboat, and
it was hanging
right over there on
the wall this morning.
But then Mr. Shutley... our
principal... came by and asked me
to give him the best drawing
from any member of our class,
and I had to take it down
and give it to him. You mean
Dad and Bub can't see it tonight?
No. It's just
unfortunate timing, Chip.
You-You'd have been
very proud of your little artist.
Since when did you
become an artist?
I guess you just learned
me all of a sudden.
Taught, Chip. Uh, taught, Chip.
But I can show you the spot
where it was
hanging, if you want.
Yeah, and my wax
world's right underneath it.
And I can show you my
desk and my spelling folder,
and then we can eat.
Didn't I tell you open
house was neat?
But I haven't told you
the most thrilling news yet.
The reason Mr. Shutley
took Chip's drawing
was to enter it in a
school-wide art contest,
and if it should win
any kind of a prize,
both the picture and the
artist will be photographed
for the newspaper.
The newspaper?
Yes, all the newspapers.
This contest always gets
a good deal of publicity.
It's really quite
an honor for Chip.
Oh, would you excuse
me a minute, please?
Some of the children... and
grape punch does stain dreadfully.
Well, we might as well
have some punch, too.
Uh... We'll, uh,
toast the artist.
We might even have two.
I think I ought to go home.
I thought you were the fellow
who was going to
drink 12 punches, Chip.
Yeah. I just kind
of don't feel well.
What's wrong with him?
He's cold, hot, cold...
Oh, it's just a
stage, I guess. Yeah.
Oh, no!
What's the matter? My world!
It melted! I'd just moved
it closer to the light.
I was afraid it wasn't
showing good enough.
Sudsy's world isn't in
the greatest shape, either.
Yeah. I wonder what's
the matter with Chip.
That's good, Rob, but
maybe a little faster, huh?
Well, that's easy
for you on a bike.
You want to be in shape
for your match, don't you?
Just three more
laps around the block.
I got to get that
drawing back... that's all.
I just got to get
that drawing back.
Boy, are you in trouble.
Will you quit saying that?
I didn't tell you what I did
so you could keep
on saying that.
I told you 'cause
you got to help me.
Boy, I'm really
building up my muscles.
I bet you by next year,
I'll be able to b*at
up Mary Lou Gifford.
I found out that Mr. Shutley
has the pictures in his office.
He's going to take them
down to the school board day
after tomorrow. So what?
I'm going to swipe mine before
he gets a chance to take it.
You'd better not.
That's worse trouble.
You already committed
a whole fraud.
How come?
My father told me about a
man who wrote something,
only he didn't really write it,
and they sent him
to jail for pugilism.
For what?
My father knows
because he's a lawyer.
If you say you did something,
only you didn't really do it,
that's called pugilism.
Yeah, but I don't
want my drawing
to get in the newspaper,
so I got to swipe it back.
Boy, if you do that,
you got pugilism
with larson on top of it.
Boy, larson sounds terrible.
I'd better ask
somebody what to do.
You can ask my father,
only he makes people pay
him if they ask him questions.
Yeah, but Bub
gave me the picture.
How can you go to jail
for swiping something
that's already yours?
You can go to jail
for all kinds of junk.
Lots of people who
hire my father go to jail.
Come on, Robbie,
get the lead out.
Keep going.
Just two more times
around the block.
You going to ask my father?
Maybe, only I'd rather
think of some other way first.
Boy, are you in trouble.
No.
No, take it away!
I don't want it.
Take it away!
Come on, Douglas.
We don't pamper
our prisoners here.
Eat your food.
No! Take it away!
Look at it this way.
They could have given you life,
instead of only 50 years.
Yeah, but in 50 years,
I'll be the oldest
kid in fourth grade.
You should have thought of that
before you committed larson
right on top of pugilism.
What do you want?
I'm his lawyer.
Hi, Sudsy.
Boy, are you in trouble.
Did you tell them all I
swiped was my own picture?
Yeah, and they all yelled at me
for being the
lawyer of a hoodlum.
How's Dad and Mike
and Robbie and Bub?
They all changed their
names, so nobody would know
they're related to
a picture swiper.
How's Mrs. Bergen?
Her hair turned
white, and all she does
is sit in the corner and shake.
Do I really have to
stay here for 50 years?
Sure.
Well, I just came
by to cheer you up.
Turnkey.
Boy, are you in trouble.
All right, Douglas.
Chow time.
No, I don't want it.
But you haven't eaten anything
in 28 years now, Douglas.
You-You keep this up,
you're going to lose weight.
Hello, Francis.
How are the grandchildren?
Oh, fine, thank
you, Mr. Pfeiffer.
How are all your children?
The little one has the measles.
Eh, I guess these
things are sent to try us.
Boy, are you in trouble.
How's Dad and Mike
and Bub and Robbie?
They said to tell you
they all forgive you
for being such a bum.
They do?
Yeah.
And Bub says to
hurry up and get out,
on account of he's gonna be 103
on his next birthday.
How's Mrs. Bergen?
She's up in heaven
playing a harp,
and still shaking.
I sure caused a lot of trouble.
Boy, are you in trouble.
Boy, am I in trouble.
And so, Sudsy said
well, maybe this friend
I'm telling you about
would get put in jail if people
found out he did a pugilism.
"Committed plagiarism"
is the term, Chip.
Oh. And he said it was
worse if you did larson, too.
Do you mean arson?
I don't know.
Well, arson is the criminal act
of setting fire to something.
Oh, no, I... well, my friend...
He isn't going to burn
anything, just swipe it.
Ah. Larceny.
Yeah, and he says you
know 'cause you're a lawyer,
and lots of people
who pay you money
to ask you questions go to jail.
Thank you, Hubert.
Can you go to jail if what
you're swiping is yours?
Chip, the law is a pretty
complicated matter.
It's always hard for a lawyer
to give an opinion on a
case as involved as this
without the details.
Now, if you could just
tell me exactly what you...
well, that is, what
your friend has done...
Oh, no, I couldn't do that.
The whole reason I want to...
Well, my friend... he just
doesn't want anybody to know.
Now, wait a minute, Chip.
Let's discuss this some more.
It's getting kind of late.
I'd better go.
Wait, Chip.
If you'd just tell me a
little more about this case.
Thanks a lot for letting
me ask you questions.
Wait, Chip. I'd like
to know a little bit...
No, sir. I promised Chip
I wouldn't tell what he
did, and I'm not going to.
He's my best friend,
and just because you're
a lawyer and my father,
I'm still not going to tell you
how he really didn't
draw that picture,
or about the contest, or
how he's going to swipe it
from the principal's
office, or anything!
Uh-huh.
What?
He what?
I got the whole
story from Sudsy.
You mean, uh, Chip signed
his name to my picture?
Well, then, that
explains a few things
about the way he
acted at the open house.
Look, Rob, I said
I'm sorry. Yes...
Shut up. That's all.
Just shut up. Hold
it, will you? But...
Hold it. I'm on the phone.
Do you know what
this guy did to me?
What did I do? All I did
was set up a scientific
training schedule...
Will you two pipe down?
I'm talking to Mr. Pfeiffer.
Sudsy's father?
What does he want?
He's Chip's lawyer.
Now, be quiet, please.
Chip's lawyer?
Chip's lawyer, yes.
I'd appreciate it,
uh, Mr. Pfeiffer, if you
wouldn't say a word
either to Chip or Sudsy.
I'll tell Steve, and
then we'll let him
take it up with the school.
Well, let me know how
the whole thing works out.
I'm personally involved,
you understand,
inasmuch as my client forced me
to accept a retainer
for my services.
Well, thank you very much.
Push-ups... that's what
he made me do. Uh...
laps around the block.
Now, you know what?
The coach weighed me at the gym,
and he threw me off the team.
This meathead made
me lose five pounds!
Well, I wouldn't
bother about it.
A retainer?
♪ ♪
I'm certainly
thankful we found out
about this in time, Mr. Douglas.
It would be very embarrassing
for the school if Chip's...
uh, Mr. O'Casey's drawing won.
Yes. Probably would have, too.
I must have been
blind, Mr. Shutley,
not to have seen that
Chip couldn't possibly
have drawn anything
as good as this.
It's not fourth grade
work, obviously.
It-It's at least
equal to the skill of
an 11-year-old.
Mr. Shutley, I think I know
how Chip got
into this situation.
Several things happened
at home that, uh...
well, I guess maybe Mr. O'Casey
and I are partly responsible.
But Chip is basically
an honest boy,
and I just don't think
he'll go through with this.
But Mr. Douglas, I am
taking these drawings
to the board this
afternoon at 3:00.
Oh.
Well, Mrs. Bergen, couldn't you
maybe, uh, drop
a couple of hints
so that Chip would know
that 3:00 is his deadline?
When he finds that
out, I'm sure he'll come
to one of us and make
a clean breast of it.
I want Chip to have a chance
to get out of this on his own.
I can handle it that way
if you wish, Mr. Douglas,
but if Chip doesn't
come forward in time,
I feel I'll have to take
disciplinary action.
I'm sure you won't have to.
I know Chip, and I'm
sure he wouldn't, uh,
come sneaking into your
office and try to take the picture.
Certainly not.
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
Well, I still can't believe it.
She told me on the phone, Steve.
She saw him herself.
He was in the office,
and he had the picture.
Well, I would have
sworn that he... Well...
I'm sorry I had to ask
you to come back again,
Mr. Douglas. That's
all right, Mrs. Bergen.
Well, I've left a message
with Mr. Shutley's secretary,
and I just saw him in the hall,
so he should be
in any minute now.
Where is, uh, Chip now?
He's on the playground. Oh.
Ah, Mr. Douglas,
Mr. O'Casey. I...
Mr. Shutley, I would
have bet anything
that Chip wouldn't
have taken that picture,
but I guess I... Well,
evidently, he didn't.
He didn't?
But I saw him.
You saw him simply
about to make some...
significant alterations in
the drawing, Mrs. Bergen.
Alterations?
I'm afraid they
automatically disqualify it.
Well...
Oh, no.
What's so funny?
What's he done to it?
Look at the signature, Bub.
Well, it's the second
time I guessed wrong.
It may not have been
the way we expected,
but Chip certainly came
through with the truth.
Yeah. The truth?
That kid's a
doggone little liar.
What?
I won't be 64 years old
for a year and a
half, and you know it.
Mrs. Bergen, there
isn't any, uh, rule
against, uh, Chip's
parents going out
and saying hello to him
on the playground, is there?
It usually embarrasses them,
but somehow, in this case,
I don't think he'll mind.
Thanks.
Come on, Bub.:
I'll give you that...
I'll get ahold of that
little whippersnapper
and teach him a
few things... 64?!