03x33 - John Wilson's Cushion

[bunniefuu]

-The train got in

half an hour ago.

George's brother

should be here by now.

I hope he didn't have

trouble finding a cab.

-Oh, traffic's pretty

heavy downtown.

-I sure will be glad to meet

good old Mr. Wilson's brother

because I've never met

a real writer before.

-Say, he's a fine writer.

We read all those

articles you sent over.

-We liked them.

-Good.

-I'm so glad you'll

have someone staying

with you while

Mr. Wilson's away.

-So am I Alice.

John was coming

out this way anyway

on an assignment so

it'll work out just fine.

-And don't you

worry Mrs. Wilson.

I'll help you look after him.

Anything I can do to-- hey!

Here comes a cab now!

-Martha!

Oh, you look wonderful!

-So do you.

It's so nice to see you.

-Good to see you.

-These are our friends,

Alice and Henry Mitchell.

-How do you do Mr. Wilson.

-How do you do.

How do you do.

Glad to know you.

And this must be Dennis.

How are you young man?

-Hi Mr. Wilson.

I sure am glad to meet ya,

because me and your brother

are best friends.

-I know you are.

He's written me all

about you, often.

-He has?

-Oh yes.

Yes he says you're a great

help to him at all times.

-I sure am.

And I'm going to help you too.

[theme music]

-There.

I thought they'd brighten

things up while you work.

-Thank you, Martha.

Of course I'd rather

sit and visit with you

but this article's due

at the end of the week

and I have to get it

in the mail tomorrow.

-I understand, John.

What's the article about?

-Well, it's called "Observations

from a Parlor Car Window."

I intended to write

it on the train

but I got so busy

looking out the window

that I simply didn't do it.

-Well, I'll keep the

house quiet and see

that nobody bothers you.

-Oh no, no, no, Martha,

don't you worry about me.

Nothing bothers me when I work.

I'm not one of those

temperamental writers

who has to have

everything just so.

I can write any place.

-Well that's good.

This is just fine.

Everything's set up just

the way I had it at home.

It all seems familiar to me.

-Well I suppose

that is important.

-I'll knock this out in no time.

Now.

[typing]

No, no.

Oh, come on brain,

wake up, wake up.

[typing]

-Well how's it going?

-Straight into the wastebasket.

-Oh dear.

-Hi Mrs. Wilson!

Hi Mr. Wilson!

-Hello Dennis.

-Hi Dennis.

-What are you writing?

Something on your typewriter?

-Well I'm trying

to Dennis, but I

don't seem to be

having any luck.

-Jeepers, I know how

that is, all right.

Whenever I get a composition

to write for homework

I have a heck of a

time getting started.

-I suppose that happens to

all writers sometimes dear.

-What can I do to

help you Mr. Wilson?

-Not a thing Dennis.

-Are you sure?

-Yes I'm sure.

I know what the

trouble is Martha.

-You do?

Good, what is it?

-Well I've been fighting against

mentioning it all morning

because it-- well

it sounds so silly.

-Doesn't sound silly to me.

What is it?

-My cushion.

-Your cushion?

-I always take my old chair

cushion with me wherever I go

but this time I

forgot to pack it.

I've been sitting

on it for years

and I just can't

work without it.

-Well why didn't you say so?

That's no problem.

The house is full of cushions.

-Oh well I tried this one.

It's too thick.

-Well just relax.

I'll round up every

cushion in the house

and you can have your pick.

-And don't you worry.

I'll get some from

our house too.

I've got a dandy one that

I always put in my pants

when it looks like I'm

going to get a spanking.

-Too thick.

No, too thin.

Too hard.

Oh I hate to be

picky about this.

Don't think I'm

eccentric, please.

-Oh we don't think

that at all Mr. Wilson.

-Of course not.

-I don't even know

what it means.

-It's no use Martha.

None of these even look

like my old cushion.

-I'm so sorry we couldn't help.

-What does your cushion

look like, Mr. Wilson?

-Oh, it's just an old

faded blue corduroy thing,

stuffed with goose feathers.

It just happens to fit me.

It makes me feel comfortable.

-I know how you feel.

I used to have a

b*at-up old teddy bear.

And if he wasn't in bed with

me at night, I couldn't sleep.

-Mm hm.

-That's before I

grew up, of course.

I don't have that kind

of silly stuff anymore.

-Well, perhaps I

haven't grown up Dennis.

-Dennis, we'd better get on

home and let Mr. Wilson think.

-Thank you, Mrs. Mitchell.

-Thanks for coming, Alice.

-You go ahead mom.

I'll stay here and help

Mr. Wilson for a while.

-Dennis, we are

both going home now.

-OK.

Just let me give him

my ballpoint pen.

If you can't write

with a typewriter maybe

you can write with this.

Here, I'll show ya.

Now you try.

[crash]

-Oh, here they are Martha.

-I'll hang them out to dry.

I can press them later.

Thank you.

Oh, I've got to get that

article written some way.

-You will.

You'll get it finished on

time and it'll be wonderful.

-Do you really think so?

-Of course.

Now forget about that cushion.

Relax your mind and go

in there and get to work.

-By thunder, I will.

This silly business about a

faded cushion is ridiculous.

I'm not a child Martha.

I am a writer.

And what does a writer do?

He writes.

-That's the way to talk.

-Observations from--

[typing] --a parlor--

[doorbell]

-If that's Dennis Mitchell

again I'll-- come in.

[typing]

-Oh!

How wonderful, the

author at work.

-Ah, ah, ah, who?

-Oh what a splendid

moment to catch you.

Right in the throws

of literary creation.

Oh this is fascinating.

-But-- but, madam I-- I--

-I'm sorry.

I haven't introduced myself.

I am Isabel Tolliver, president

of the lady's literary circle.

And a dear friend of Martha's.

-Oh, oh, well she's outside.

I'll call--

-Oh, no, no-- don't bother.

You're the one I came

to see, Mr. Wilson.

It isn't everyday I get to meet

an important literary figure.

-Oh, well.

I wouldn't call myself that.

I just write an

occasional article

for the National Journal.

-Oh, but such

fascinating articles.

The one last month, where the

Vikings discovered America

before Columbus-- well, it

was just simply marvelous.

-Well, that was rather

good, I thought.

-So erudite.

So-- so literary.

And I am here to invite you

to lecture before our club

on the Vikings next Friday.

You will come, of course.

-Well I'm very

busy Mrs. Tolliver.

I have a deadline.

-We won't take no for

an answer, Mr. Wilson.

Oh, I can just see how

you'll bring those old Norse

heroes back to life for us.

-Well I have

researched the subject

pretty thoroughly but-- but--

-Oh I knew you'd agree to it.

I can't wait to tell the girls.

I'll pick you up myself.

Friday afternoon at one.

-Yeah uh, well, I'll be ready.

-Oh this will be our

most thrilling afternoon.

There'll be tea and

cookies, of course.

-Of course.

One more thing Mrs. Tolliver.

How did you know I was here?

I only arrived yesterday.

-Dear little Dennis

Mitchell told me.

-Oh, what a helpful little boy.

-And I got a great

idea Tommy, that'll

be the swellest surprise

Mr. Wilson ever had.

-Yeah?

What is it?

-I'll make him a cushion,

just like his old one

that he can't write with

without sitting on it.

-How are you going to

make him a cushion?

-Oh, it's easy.

He said it was

faded blue corduroy,

and dad's got a pair of old

corduroy pants just the color.

I'm going in right now and

see if I can have them.

-What's the matter?

-I just thought of something.

I'll have to get Mr. Wilson's

measurements first-- you know,

so the cushion will fit him.

-That won't be easy if you're

going to keep it a secret.

-We'll figure out some way.

-Hey, I know.

I'll run upstairs and

get mom's tape measure.

And then we'll go

next door real sly

and sneak the size

of Mr. Wilson's seat.

-Now on top of everything else

I have a confounded lecture

to worry about with a room

full of gushing women and tea

and cookies.

Ew!

-You should have just said no.

-Well, if she hadn't been a

friend of yours I would have.

-A friend of mine?

Isabel Tolliver?

-Well that's what she said.

-Oh, she's no friend of mine.

I don't like her very much.

You don't have to

go on my account.

-Oh, fine.

-Why don't you just

call up and cancel it?

-Oh no, I did promise.

I gave her my word.

I don't know.

I guess I'm just stuck.

-Yes, a promise is a promise.

-What annoys me even

more-- I won't get any fee.

-Oh?

-No, for a lecture I

usually get dollars.

-What was it you said people

get dollars for Mr. Wilson?

-For lecturing.

-You mean dollars

just for talking?

Boy, I could get rich that way.

-Yes, I've noticed the tendency.

-I'm going to start

our lunch, John.

Now boys, don't

disturb Mr. Wilson.

He's trying to think.

-We won't, Mrs. Wilson.

OK Tommy.

You know what to do.

Get him to bend over.

-Mr. Wilson.

-Hm?

-There's a penny on the ground.

Did you drop it?

-I don't think so.

-Maybe I did.

-Well, why don't you pick it up?

-Might not be mine.

Mom says I oughtn't pick

up things that aren't mine.

-Oh great Caesar.

Is it yours?

-It sure looks

like the one I had.

-Take it with my blessing.

And thank you for

not disturbing me.

-We got him.

-Yeah!

Boy, I'll need plenty of cloth.

Boy, mom and dad

sure looked confused

when I ripped his

old trousers up.

-Parents get

confused awful easy.

-Yeah.

Boy I hope Mr. Quigley's

got some goose feathers

at the market so I can start

making Mr. Wilson's cushion.

-Why does Mr. Wilson have

to have goose feathers?

-I don't know.

Maybe they're the softest kind.

-Maybe.

I never felt a goose before.

I never felt a goose before.

-Me neither.

But if that's what Mr. Wilson

wants, I've got to get them.

-Warm enough for

you, Mrs. Nolan?

-I should say it is.

It's very pleasant

in here, though.

-Oh, thank you.

I try to keep it comfortable

for my customers.

-Hi, Mr. Quigley!

Do you have any goose

feathers I can have?

-Please, Dennis.

Don't you see I'm

waiting on a customer?

-Oh, excuse me.

There you are, Mrs. Nolan.

Now what was it Dennis?

Feathers?

-Yeah!

I need some to--

-I know.

You want to put

them in your hair

and pretend to be

an Indian chief.

I've got a whole bag of them

out there the storeroom.

Go ahead and help yourself.

-Jeepers, thanks, Mr. Quigley.

Come on, Tommy.

-Mr. Quigley?

-That's right.

I don't believe

I've met you before.

Are you new in town?

-I'm John Wilson.

I'm staying at my

brother's house.

-Oh yeah, that's right.

Mrs. Wilson told me about you.

You're some kind of a

writer or something.

-That's right.

-You don't look much like one.

-How is a writer

supposed to look?

-Well, from all

I've heard, they're

all sort of on the

screwball side.

-Well that may apply to

some writers Mr. Quigley,

but not to me.

I just an ordinary, average

man with no peculiarities

whatsoever.

-Well, I'm glad to hear it.

Hey, what can I do for you?

-Do you have any

concentrated cucumber juice?

-Concentrated cucumber juice.

-I find when it's

mixed with skimmed milk

it tends to relax me.

-I'm glad to meet an

ordinary, average writer.

-Do you have it or don't you?

-I don't.

My juices are over there.

Maybe you can find

something you can use.

-Thank you.

-Oh, by the way--

while you're there,

take a look at my soup counter.

A salesman loaded me

up with a dozen cans

of ordinary, average

kangaroo tail soup.

-Are these the feathers

we can have, Mr. Quigley?

-Oh good grief, Dennis.

Did you have to bring

the whole bag out here?

I thought you only

wanted a handful.

-No, I need more than that.

-Well, all right but don't

take the sack away with you.

Here, put what you

need in this box.

And put it over there.

Get it away from the counter.

-OK Mr. Quigley.

Come on Tommy, give me a hand.

-Oh, hello their boys.

-Oh, hi Mr. Wilson.

-What are you

trying to do there?

-Oh, just emptying some

stuff into this box.

-Oh you better let

me give you a hand.

That bag's too big

for you to handle.

-Oh no Mr. Wilson.

We can handle it.

-Come along now, fellas.

You let me do--

-Please, Mr. Wilson.

-I'll do it for you.

There, just leave it to me.

-Boy, look at him go.

-Yeah!

-What in the world?

Right in front of the fan.

What's the big idea?

You think you're a

school girl having

a pillow fight or something?

-Well, I'm-- I'm sorry, I didn't

know what was in the sack.

-I might expect that from a boy

like Dennis, but a man your age

should know better.

-Well, I said I'm sorry.

-Well, stop being sorry and

start picking up the feathers.

-We'll help you Mr. Wilson.

-Just an ordinary,

average writer.

-My goodness, Dennis.

You're a real traffic hazard.

-Hi, Margaret.

I was thinking so hard

about goose feathers,

I didn't even see ya.

-Goose feathers?

-Yeah, I thought I had

some, but they turned out

to be plain old

chicken feathers.

Nobody's got goose feathers.

-My mother has.

-She has?

Real ones?

-Of course they're real.

They're in a pillow my

grandmother gave us.

-Oh boy!

Would you let me have them?

'Cause I sure need them.

-Well, I suppose I could.

We don't use it anymore.

-Jeepers, that's swell.

-If--

-I might have known

there'd be an if.

-You can have the feathers

if you come and play house

with me.

And be a father to our

darling little Gwendolyn.

-Oh no.

You can keep the feathers.

I'm not going to be the

father of that dumb old doll.

Not again, never.

-(SINGING) Rock-a-bye

Gwendolyn in the tree top.

When the wind blows,

the cradle will rock.

-You're such a

good father Dennis.

-Well, I'm an

awful tired father.

I've been messing around with

Gwendolyn for a whole hour.

Can I have the feathers now?

-Well, all right.

-Great!

-If!

-I knew it.

-You can have the feathers

if you'll do one more thing.

Gwendolyn needs changing.

-Jeepers.

-You do that, and I'll

get the feathers for you.

-Boy, the things I go

through to help a friend.

[sigh]

-May I interrupt a minute, John?

-Interrupt what?

There's nothing going on here.

-I'm sure you'll get the

article written in time.

-It's not just the

article, Martha.

While you were visiting

down the street,

that Tolliver woman

barged in here again.

-What did she want?

-She brought me this.

-My goodness!

What is it?

-A Viking helmet.

She insists that I wear

it during the lecture.

She says it will

create the proper mood.

I ask you.

-Well it does make you

look very distinguished.

-I look like a bull

with a mustache.

-I still think you ought

to call off the lecture.

-Oh no.

As a man of my

word, I'm obligated.

-Well, I have to go along.

Good luck John.

-Hi Mr. Wilson!

-Oh, hi Dennis.

-Guess what I got in this bag.

-An atom b*mb.

-Heck, you're not even warm.

It's something for you.

It's--

[doorbell]

-Pardon me.

-It's me again Mr. Wilson.

May I come in?

-You are.

Please do.

-Oh, I know it's

very naughty of me

to keep interrupting

you like these.

I know how you literary

men like to woo the muse.

-Oh yes, we're great wooers.

-Well I have a wonderful

idea for the lecture.

And I wanted-- oh, hello Dennis.

-Hi Mrs. Tolliver.

-So I simply had

to share with you.

-Share away.

-Well, I feel that

appropriate music

would add to the occasion.

So I am going to sing

the song of the Valkyrie.

They were the

warrior maidens who

carried the Viking

heroes off to paradise.

-You are going to sing?

-Yes.

Oh, if I hadn't married, I could

have had a career in opera.

In fact, my husband often says,

you shouldn't have married.

Oh, now listen.

[singing]

-Is this to take place

before or after the lecture?

-During.

-During.

-While you're telling the

exploits of the Vikings,

I shall perform

in the background.

Oh, it should cause

a lot of comment.

-I can hear it now.

-Our club will never

forget this lecture.

Aren't you excited?

-Oh, I'm all atwitter.

-I'd be excited

too if I was going

to get $ like Mr.

Wilson's going to get.

-$ ?

-Yeah.

He says that's what he always

gets when he gives lectures.

Didn't you, Mr. Wilson?

-Well, yeah-- I--

I-- yes, Dennis.

Oh, thank you for reminding me.

-Why, I never

dreamed you expected

to be paid, Mr. Wilson.

Why, our club only has

$ . in the treasury.

-How regrettable.

-Oh, couldn't you speak

this once without a fee?

We're so literary.

-Oh, I'm sure you

are, Mrs. Tolliver.

However, we lecturers have a

very strong rule about this.

If I didn't charge you,

I would be drummed out

of the lecturers' union.

-Well, I'm-- I'm

afraid we'll just

have to cancel the whole thing.

-Oh, that's too bad.

May I show you to the door?

I'm sorry that I've robbed

you of the opportunity

to render the song

of the Valkyrie.

-But you haven't!

We've lost you, but I'll

make it up to the girls.

I shall sing the

whole aria for them.

[singing]

-Goodbye, Mr. Wilson.

-Goodbye, warrior maiden.

Oh, Dennis, I'm very

grateful to you.

Though I don't expect

you to understand why.

-I bet I do.

You really didn't want to talk

to those ladies after all,

did ya?

-Oh my, you are an

intelligent lad.

-Why, I sure wish you'd

tell my teacher that.

-No, it's such a

relief to get out

of the clutches of that woman.

Now if I could only

start that article.

-That's what I came over about.

This is for you.

-What in the world is this?

-It's a cushion, just like

your favorite one-- same color,

and it's full of goose feathers.

I made it for ya.

-Well, that was a

very kind thought.

-Sit on it Mr. Wilson, please.

-All right, Dennis.

-How does it feel?

OK?

-Feels pretty good.

George, it does feel good.

Feels like my old cushion.

-It does?

Now you can start

writing, can't ya?

-Well, I-- [clap] wait a minute.

I've got an idea.

I know how to

start that article.

Oh, this is wonderful.

-I knew that good old

cushion would do it.

-Aha, well.

[typing]

-Dennis, you could have played

cops and robbers today, gone

fishing, done a dozen things

little boys like to do.

Instead you made me a cushion.

Now, why did you go to all

that trouble just for me?

-Because I want us to

be friends, Mr. Wilson.

Do you want us to be?

-Yes, Dennis.

Having you as a friend

will make me very proud.

-Jeepers, that's swell.

Well, I'll go home

now and let you work.

-Oh no.

You stay right here.

You're my inspiration.

I need you.

-You do?

-Oh indeed I do.

Well, now let's see.

Aha!

Here we go.

[typing]

[theme music]