01x14 - Dennis' Tree House

[bunniefuu]

-Hey, Mom?

Mom?

Wake up Mom.

-What is it?

-You better get out of bed.

I just remembered
where I left my frog.

[theme music]

-Well, me and Dad finished it.

-We sure did.

-Good.

-You wanna come out
and see our treehouse?

-If I do say so myself,
honey, it's a swell treehouse.

-I'd love to see it, Dennis,
but I can't right now,

dinner would burn.

-You can see it after when
you help me move my stuff.

-What stuff?

-All my stuff.

I think I'm just going
to live in that good ole

treehouse from now on.

-You'll do no such thing.

-Well how 'bout if I just
sleep out there from now on?

-Certainly not.

Now you go wash up for dinner.

-Hey, can we have
dinner up there?

-No, we can't.

-Can I go get Tommy
so he can see it?

-Tommy's probably about
to have dinner himself.

You can show it to
him in the morning.

-Before breakfast?

-After breakfast.

-Can I get out and
fix my own breakfast?

-You'll wait and have
breakfast with the rest of us.

-But jeepers.

-You'll have plenty of time to
play in the treehouse, Dennis.

It'll be there for a long while.

-I wish you hadn't put it right
over Mr. Wilson's back fence.

-The treehouse isn't going
to be a bother to Mr. Wilson.

We have a definite agreement
about that, don't we son?

-We sure have, boy.

Let's write it out in blood
like they did in Tom Sawyer.

-That won't be necessary.

I just want to be sure
that the treehouse doesn't

make him unhappy.

-Heck no.

And I'm going to let
good ole Mr. Wilson play

in it anytime he wants to.

Well, I gotta go
wash up for dinner.

-Oh, there's nothing like a
good night's sleep, Martha.

I feel like a million
dollars this morning.

-Good, George.

And you're going to put
up your new bird feeder?

-Mm-hm.
Right after breakfast.

Oh, Great Scott.

They finished the treehouse.

-What difference does that make?

How can a little boy on a
little platform bother you?

-Martha, during World w*r II,
little platforms like that

were used by enemy sn*pers.

-Dennis isn't a sn*per.

And Henry promised you
wouldn't be bothered.

-Mm-hm.

France promised England
Napoleon wouldn't be any bother.

-You can't compare
Dennis with Napoleon.

-Oh, no?

Which one am I talking about?

He's small, he wears his
hair across his forehead,

and he terrorizes
the neighborhood.

Now which one?

-You're going to feel
much better when you're

out in the fresh air putting
up your new bird feeder.

-Yeah.

Right under the
eyes of the enemy.

-Kapow!

Kapow!

Kapow!

Kapow!

-Oh, no.
Dennis!

-Kapow!

Kapow!

Did you call me, Mr. Wilson?

-Yes, I called you.

-Did you want me to
come over and help ya?

-No, that's the
last thing I want.

Don't you know I'm trying
to attract birds to my yard?

-Sure we do, and
we're helping ya.

-Well you're not helping
me with all those Kapows.

-Sure we are.

-We're scaring
away all the hawks

that are after your birds.

-Hawks are all over the place.

-Nah, there isn't a
hawk within miles.

-How about buzzards?

-No.

-Any eagles?

If you don't stop shouting,
we won't even have a sparrow.

-Are you all
through, Mr. Wilson?

-Yes, I'm all through.

-Did you put the food in it?

-Well of course I did.

And now if you'll both
be quiet, maybe we'll

attract some birds around here.

(QUIETLY): What are you
going to do now Mr. Wilson?

(QUIETLY): None
of your business.

-You know that funny thing I
found on the sidewalk, Tommy?

When you twist it, it sounds
just like birds singing.

-Aw, come on.

A little thing like that?

Let's hear it.

-OK.

[chirping sound]

-Jeepers, that'd fool anybody.

-Martha?

-Yes, dear?

-Have you seen my
Audubon Bird Caller?

anywhere?

-Ah.

-I sewed the hole in your pocket
so you won't lose this one.

-Ah, thank you my dear.

You know, this is an
amazing little gadget.

[chirping sound]

-It'll attract birds to
my yard if anything will.

[chirping sound]

[chirping sound]

-Hey, Tommy, listen.

Some birds are answering me.
-Yeah.

Twist it some more.

[chirping sound]

-Martha, I'm already
attracting some birds.

[chirping]

[chirping]

-They're still
singing at me, Tommy.

-Sounds like they're
getting closer.

-Boy, Mr. Wilson's
sure going to be happy.

We're going to have swell
birds all over the place.

-How do you know you're not
attracting some old buzzard?

-Buzzards don't sing.

They buzz.

[chirping]

[chirping]

[chirping]
-Hey.

Is that you, Mr. Wilson?

[chirping]

-Oh, Great Scott, I'm
going to go out of my mind.

Eh.

Maybe this is hard for you
to understand, Mitchell,

but I like birds.

I think of them as my friends.

For years I've been a member of
the North Side Bird Watchers.

And just now, when
I want to make

a sanctuary of my backyard,
well look what happened.

-I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson.

-With Dennis up
in that treehouse

I'll never have
any birds around.

-We'll just have to work it out.

-I don't know what you can do.

If he's up there, he's just
going to scare the birds.

-Well if all else
fails, we'll just

have to take the treehouse down.

-That's a good idea.

I'll help you.

I'll go get a couple of
hammers and a flashlight.

Oh.
Oh, no.

I can't ask you to do that.

Why you-- you just put it up.

-Dennis tires of things
very quickly, Mr. Wilson.

Maybe in a few weeks--

-By the time that happens, there
won't be a bird closer to here

than Montana.

Dennis and Tommy will have
Kapowed 'em all out of town.

-Maybe if you'd talk to
Dennis about bird watching.

You know, tell him
something about it.

Well, he might
understand your problems

and stay away from the birds.

-Say, you know, that
might be worth trying.

-I don't see what
harm it can do.

-Well I don't either,
at the moment.

-What's the matter, Mr. Wilson?

-Some way, this is
going to backfire.

I'm trying to figure out
how it's going to happen.

Ah.
Heh.

Now, the object of bird
watching is to watch birds.

-And you can even
watch them when

they're taking a
bath, huh Mr. Wilson?

-Well, yes.

But the important thing
is not to scare them.

Because if you scare
them, they'll fly away,

and the game's over.

-What game?

-Why, the bird watching game.

-How do you keep score?

-You don't keep score.

-Then how do you
know who's ahead?

-All right.

Stop, stop right now.

I used the wrong word.

It isn't a game, it's-- it's
a hobby, all right boys?

-OK, Mr. Wilson.

-OK.

-All right.

Now, the object to
this hobby is to see

how many different kinds
of birds you can observe.

Now, do either of you
boys have a favorite bird?

-Yeah, turkey.

-Dennis, you don't
watch turkeys.

-I do.

I wanna see what
part I'm getting.

-I like the leg.

-All right.

All right, do you
want me to show you

how to work these
binoculars or not?

-Sure we do.

-All right.

I'll lend you my extra
pair of binoculars,

but you must never
leave them here

in the treehouse,
when you're not here.

-I'll bring 'em back every
time I'm through with them.

Just leave the ladder
up on your side.

-No, don't bring
them back every time.

Just take them indoors
when they're not in use.

-My house or his house?

-Oh, anybody's house.

Now let's get started.

Now, you look through
the small end,

and you adjust this little
dojigger there in the center.

OK?

Find something to
look at, and then you

adjust that till
you see clearly.

-Gee, you've got soft
eyes, Mr. Wilson.

-Not at me, Dennis.

-Wow.

-Is it a bird?

-It's Mr. Blakley across
the street, and a bird.

-Oh, I didn't know he
was interested in birds.

-He really must like 'em.

He's changing his
shirt, and he's

got a swell eagle
tattooed on his chest.

-Let me look.
-Give me those binoculars.

-It's that top
window on the left.

-I'm not interested in
Mr. Blakley's tattoo.

Good bye.

Where's my ladder?

-Jeepers, Mr. Wilson.

Didn't you notice?

Mrs. Wilson came and got it.

I guess she was going
to wash the windows.

-Do you want to
sit down some more?

-No, I don't.

I'll use your ladder.

-Our ladder isn't here, either.

Don't you remember?

We came up on your side.

-Martha?

Martha!

-Mr. Wilson?

You shouldn't yell like
that, you'll scare the birds.

-Martha!

-Smooth it out, Tommy.

-Boy, I'm sure
glad you remembered

seeing this old
box in the alley.

-Me too.

Sit down.

Now we got my own,
personal sofa.

[birds chirping]

-Hey, that's just like
the bird we got at home.

-Aw, the bird at your
house isn't real.

-So what, they're
exactly the same.

Come on, I'll show ya.

Isn't it the same?

-Sure looks like it.

-What's the same?

-This bird and the one we
saw in Mr. Wilson's yard.

-I don't mean to doubt
you, son, but that's

an imitation of a
Canadian Crested Warbler.

-Yep, that's the one we saw.

-Now, Dennis, if
it's a Canadian bird,

you couldn't possibly have
seen one in Mr. Wilson's tree.

Isn't that logical?

-Yes, Mr. Anderson.

But I wonder what
he was doing there?

-Now Dennis, they're
never seen in this state.

-Wind him up, Dad.

We heard this other bird sing.

-All right, this will show you.

-He sounded just like that.

-Same kind of bird, all right.

-Here you are, dear.

-Oh, thank you, my dear.

-How does your ankle
feel this morning?

-Oh, fine.

Perfect, the Epsom salts
took all the swelling out.

-You shouldn't have jumped
out of Dennis' treehouse.

-Hm.

You know, I can't
understand how he

was able to describe a
Canadian Crested Warbler.

Why, there can't have
been one in my backyard.

Yet, he was accurate
in every detail.

[bird chirping]

-The purple throat, the
touch of white about-- Hark.

[chirping continues]
-What?

-Hark, be quiet.

Be quiet.

-Very pretty.

Someone must have a new canary.

-Get me the binoculars.

Uh, it can't be.

But it's true.

How could I have
ever doubted the boy?

A Canadian Crested Warbler,
in George Wilson's backyard.

Martha, I've got to call
Mr. Timberlake right away.

-George, it's
o'clock in the morning.

It's no time to call the head
of your bird watchers club.

-You don't understand the
importance of this discovery.

Why, he'd never forgive
me if I didn't call him.

-But by the time he gets here,
the bird'll probably be gone.

-No, Martha.

No, if Dennis saw him yesterday,
and he's here this morning,

he'll stay.

It's that new feeder.

The ad said it would do wonders.

-Where are you going?

-Well, I've decided to drive
over and get Mr. Timberlake.

-In your pajamas?

[bird chirping]

-Yes, George.

That is definitely a
Canadian Crested Warbler.

To the best of my
knowledge, this

is the first such
sighting in this state.

-And to think it's
happened to me.

-I'm going to get in touch
with Mr. Pomeroy immediately.

-You mean the head
of the state society?

-That's right.

With Mr. Pomeroy's
confirmation of this sighting,

your name will be added to the
immortals on the honor scroll.

-Ah, it's something I
never even dared hope for.

Do you think Mr. Pomeroy
will come all that distance?

-Oh, he'll be delighted.

I'll wire him to fly in Saturday
for a binocular session,

right here in your backyard.

-Oh, that's wonderful.

What if the Warbler flown away?

-Oh, that would be too bad.

If I were you, and had a
chance to be added to the honor

scroll, I'd see that everything
is kept quiet and tranquil

around here, so the bird
won't be frightened away.

-Oh, I will, I will.

Is it against the
law to force a child

to wear a gag in his mouth?

-Hmm?

-All right, Dennis.

I'm all right now.

Dennis, get away.

Yes, get away.

-That stuff you put up there
will make the treehouse

warmer all right, but we can't
see anything in your yard.

-Yes, well I'm just thinking
of your comfort, Dennis.

-We can't even see your
bird feeder's empty.

-Well, that's the
price we have to pay.

From now on, you two will
take care of your birds,

I'll take care of mine.

-What if we need some help?

-Oh, we'll just
have to chance it.

-But I wanted you
to be able to use

the treehouse from
your yard, too.

The way you've got that
stuff, your ladder won't work.

-Well, between now
and Saturday I'll

be much too busy to use
the treehouse, anyway.

But if you and Tommy want
to be of real help to me,

you'll be very quiet whenever
you're in the treehouse.

-When were we ever noisy?

-Do you suppose he's just
lonesome for his home

up in Canada?

-Unh uh, he's real sick.

And if he had a forehead,
we could feel it.

-Maybe we could get him
to stick out his tongue.

Then we can tell if he's sick.

-I can tell he's
sick without that.

-Maybe he's too sick
to get anything to eat.

-Yeah.

Let's get him some food
from Mr. Wilson's feeder.

[birds chirping]

-Hey, baby birds.

-Jeepers, it's his family.

Well I know what to do
for them, they need worms.

-Ugh.

-Being upset isn't going to
bring that bird back, George.

Try and cheer up.

-Cheer up?

Great Scott, Martha.

I haven't seen
that bird in days.

And in two hours, the
President of the State Society

will be here.

And I don't have a Canadian
Crested Warbler to show him.

-Why don't you ask
Dennis and Tommy

to help you find the bird?

They have sharp little eyes.
-Oh, for heaven's sakes, Martha.

If the bird were here,
I'd have seen it.

As a matter of fact, I've
given Dennis strict orders

to stay away from our yard
while Mr. Timberlake and Mr.

Pomeroy are here.

-There, it's all wound.

-This make-believe bird'll
keep the baby birds company

while we can't be up
here in the treehouse.

-He sure will.

He'll even sing to 'em.

-I hope Mr. Wilson's company
doesn't stay too long, though.

-If you turn this little
doohickey, he sings a while.

Then waits a while,
then sings some more.

It makes one wind-up
last a long time.

-Now that the sick
bird's feeling better,

he'll probably enjoy it, too.

I'll put it on the limb, Tommy.

-I forgot the worms.

-I turned it on, Tommy.

In a minute it'll start singing.

-OK, I'll feed the baby birds.

-Hello, George.

-Oh, Fredrick.

Come in.

Come in.

-This is the lucky
man, Mr. Pomeroy.

George Wilson, who first sighted
the Canadian Crested Warbler.

-How do you do, Mr. Pomeroy?

-This is truly an
honor, Mr. Wilson.

I'm looking forward to capturing
your discovery on film,

and on tape.

-Well, this is very
embarrassing, sir, I--

-Oh, don't be so modest.

-Well, I mean, you've
traveled miles.

-Mr. Wilson, I'd
travel , miles

to see a Canadian
Crested Warbler.

-What I'm trying to say is--

[bird chirping]

-There he is.

-Never hear such purity at dawn.

-That's what I
was trying to say.

Let's get out there.

All right.

[bird continues chirping]

-Congratulations, Mr. Wilson.

Your name will most
certainly be inscribed

on the honor scroll
of the State Society.

-Oh, thank you Mr. Pomeroy.

-And the fact that it's built
a nest and is raising young

may turn your backyard into
a Canadian Crested Warbler

sanctuary.

-Well, a man does
the best he can.

-I wonder if I could
borrow your ladder?

I'd like to come as
close as possible

so I can capture every
delicate nuance of his song

on my tape recorder.

-Of course Mr. Pomeroy, I'll
get it for you right away.

-Boy, they're still
over there, Tommy.

-I wish they'd hurry up.

That bird's going to
wind down pretty soon.

-Maybe they've never
seen one before,

because the men are
taking pictures of it

while Mr. Wilson's
getting a ladder.

-Hey, if Mr. Wilson
climbs the ladder,

maybe he'll wind
the bird up for us.

-We can't ask him Tommy.

We promised we wouldn't
make any noise.

-Well we could call him over
to the fence, then ask him.

Unh uh.

Mr. Wilson's my friend.

And I promised I wouldn't
bother him while he had company.

-Sorry, Mr. Pomeroy.

There you are, sir.

-Thank you.

[bird chirping]

-Oh, I wouldn't get
too close, Mr. Pomeroy.

You might scare him away.

-The bird is remarkably tame.

-Yes, he is, isn't he?

-I believe he'd
sit on my finger.

-Oh, I wouldn't try
that, Mr. Pomeroy.

-Go ahead, Mr. Pomeroy.

What harm can it do?

-Why, this bird's a fake.

Wilson, what kind
of a hoax are you

trying to pull here, anyway?

Wha-- I don't understand it.

-Well, I do only too well.

Some people'll pull
anything, anything!

Just to get their name
inscribed on the honor scroll.

-I-- I swear to you, I don't
know anything about this.

-Wilson, I'm dropping you
from the membership rolls

of the North Side Bird Watchers.

-Why, you can't do this to me!

-You're a disgrace to
bird watching, Wilson.

As far as I'm concerned, you
can turn in your binoculars.

-But I swear to you,
I saw a real bird.

-Oh, that's a likely story.

-Sure you did, Mr. Wilson.

-Oh, Dennis, be quiet.

I haven't an idea
in the world where

this mechanical one came from.

-It came from Tommy's house.

-What did you say?

-It came from Tommy's house.

Me and Tommy put
it up in the tree,

'cause the real bird got sick.

And we didn't want the
babies to be lonesome.

-What's that?

-Come on, Timberlake, this is
probably just another trick.

-No.

No, wait, wait, wait.

Wait, please.

Heh, that's Dennis Mitchell.

A fine little boy.

Intelligent, loyal,
honest, and true.

Oh, Dennis, little friend.

Come over here and tell us
all about the sick bird.

DENNIS (OFF SCREEN):

up in our treehouse, Mr. Wilson.

-You deserve a great deal
of credit, Mr. Wilson.

If you hadn't had the
proper foods in your feeder,

the Canadian Crested Warbler
wouldn't have pulled through.

-No.

The real credit belongs
to Dennis and Tommy.

They're the ones who
took care of the bird.

I'm just happy my feeder
was there to help.

Well, I think we
can arrange to add

three names to be honor scroll.

Yours, Mr. Wilson,
Dennis, and Tommy's.

-Jeepers, that's swell.

-I've never been on an
honor scroll before.

Is that good?

-Oh, tell me, Dennis.

Which of the foods did
the Crested Warbler

seem to like best?

Was it the chopped raisins,
the sunflower seeds,

or the suet, or--

-He ate a little bit of
everything you had, Mr. Wilson.

-Mostly, he seemed to like
our peanut butter sandwiches.