03x06 - Horse Sense

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Mister Ed". Aired: January 5, 1961 – February 6, 1966.*
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A horse named Mister Ed shares his words of wisdom only with Wilbur, his hapless owner.
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03x06 - Horse Sense

Post by bunniefuu »

[whinnies]

Hello. I'm Mister Ed.

♪ A horse is a horse,
of course, of course ♪

♪ And no one can talk
to a horse, of course ♪

♪ That is, of course,
unless the horse ♪

♪ Is the famous Mister Ed ♪

♪ Go right to the source
and ask the horse ♪

♪ He'll give you the answer ♪

♪ That you'll endorse ♪

♪ He's always on
a steady course ♪

♪ Talk to Mister Ed ♪

Whoa, Wilbur.

Whoa? I'm supposed to say whoa.

Why are we stopping?

I'm looking around for
my girlfriend Princess.

Princess, huh?

Yeah. That pretty little
filly with the ponytail.

Oh, so that's it.

The only reason
you came out here

is to flirt with
the fillies, huh?

A horse does not
live by hay alone.

You may be a horse,
but I think you're part wolf.

Hey, Wilbur, here she comes.

Ho ho ho ho, isn't my
Princess gorgeous?

Yeah. All 970 pounds of her.

Hello, Wilbur.

Hi, Fred. Great
day for riding, huh?

Yeah, if you don't
get hit by a golf ball.

I wish they hadn't
built a golf course

so close to the bridle path.

- Yes.
- [horses neighing]

Look, why don't we go over
and have a hot dog, huh?

Good idea.

Just tie your horse
up over there.

Good luck, Ed.

I said let's go, Fred.

Right over here.

[horses neighing]

- [kissing sounds]
- [whinnying]

Ed, I really didn't
want a hot dog,

but I thought I'd
give you a chance

to make a little
time with Princess.

Believe me, buddy-boy,
if you were a horse,

I'd do the same for you.

[cracking ball]

Ugh! Ugh!

Right in la banja.

These golfers!

[cracking ball]

Now, where were we,
honey? Oh, yes, I remember.

[neighing]

This horse talk is so limited.

A hole in one! I've
made a hole in one!

What are you talking
about a hole in one?

I saw your ball
hook over that fence.

That doesn't matter.

This is my ball, and
it was in the hole.

Addison, you've lost the match.

You owe me $20.

This is ridiculous.

I saw your ball
go... a hole in...

I know what happened.

One of those darned
horseback riders

thought they were smart again
and threw that ball over here.

Pay me the $20.

I'm gonna get rid
of that bridle path

if it's the last
thing I ever do.

"And therefore,

"as one of the citizens
of this community

"who wishes to see
the park facilities

"used to best advantage,

"I urge that the seldom-used
bridle path be eliminated.

"This would enable us
to enlarge the golf course

"and this, in
turn, would attract

"the type of people we
want in this community.

Sincerely, Roger Addison."

Roger knows that Wilbur
uses that bridle path.

How could he be so vindictive?

You should have
seen him yesterday

when he came home
after losing the $20.

Honey, is breakfast ready?

Uh-oh. I don't want to be here
when Wilbur reads this paper.

He's not going to see it.

I wonder what's in that paper.

Honey!

Yes, dear?

I can't find the morning paper.

Have you seen it?

I'll fix your eggs, darling.

Carol, why were you running?

You like four-minute eggs.

So?

So I thought if I
put them in earlier,

they'd only take three minutes.

That didn't make sense, did it?

No.

But anybody who
looks as beautiful as you

in the morning, who cares, huh?

Aww.

Sweetie, where is
the morning paper?

Maybe it didn't come.

I can't eat my breakfast
without reading a paper.

I'll go out and buy one.

Honey, you'll get
the paper tomorrow.

Well, the only difference
between tomorrow's newspaper

and today's
newspaper is the news.

Sweetheart, have you been
wearing your curlers too tight?

I'll be right back.

"Sincerely, Roger Addison."

So Roger wants to get
rid of the bridle path?

Wilbur better know about this.

Carol, every
time I go to get up,

you push me down. Why?

I'm timing your eggs that way.

[phone ringing]

Honey, that is the phone.

Oh, well, let me
help you up, dear.

[rings]

[ring]

What a sweet wife I've got.

Sometimes I wish
I understood her.

Hello.

Hi, this is Ed.
Hold onto your hat.

I want to read you something

that Addison put
in today's paper.

"Dear Mr. Editor.

I've resided in this
community for 21 years, and..."

That Addison can't
think of anything but golf.

Addison?

Yes?

Addison, writing
a letter like that

when Wilbur is our
next door neighbor

and Carol is my dearest friend.

What have you got against
bridle paths anyway?

Are you referring
to the bridal path

we walked down together?

Oh, you sweet doll.

But you know I'm
talking about horses.

What have you got against them?

Same thing I have against
you at the moment, my dear.

You're interrupting
my golf game.

Addison, you never should
have written that letter.

Pardon me, madam.
I'm playing through.

Roger, I think you're a
heel to do what you did.

Agreed. Pardon me,
sir, I'm playing through.

Do you realize what
you've did... you've done?

Only a person like
you would have did...

Done such a thing.

The only reason he done it...

Did it is because he
lost $20 at golf yesterday.

My dear, it is not the $20.

Then what is it?

Uh...

That's a pretty difficult
question to answer, isn't it?

It certainly is.

Roger, if it's only
$20, I will give it to you.

Will you please write
a letter of retraction?

That's a difficult
question to answer, too.

$20?

No, nope, I am doing
this for progress.

The bridle path is outmoded,

and we need a
larger golf course.

I want the people to think
of me as a good citizen.

For a while, they thought the
same thing of Benedict Arnold.

Wilbur, you shouldn't
have said that.

I'm sorry.

I would have said it.

Well, now, if you two

have finished this scathing
and illiterate denunciation,

I have one final thing to add.

[both] What?

Move aside. You're in my line.

You and your
four-syllable words.

Well, I can write a fancy
letter to the paper too.

And when they publish it,

it'll undid everything
you've do..., do...

Well, you just read my letter!

Wait till the editor
reads this letter.

Wilbur, if that
bridle path goes,

my love life goes with it.

Dear sir.

Fine so far.

"This is a rebuttal to
Mr. Roger Addison's attempt

"to deprive the people
of our community

their bridle path."

Good, good, good.

"It's true that very few
people use the bridle path.

"and I'll readily concede
that even most of those

are not from our community..."

Uh-oh.

"but it wouldn't matter

"if there were only
one horse owner.

"He has rights, too.

"And no matter how much it costs

"to keep up the bridle path,

that one single citizen
must still be considered."

Wilbur, you just
lost the bridle path,

and I lost Princess.

Ed, let's not get
into an argument.

This letter makes sense.

As Thomas Jefferson once
said, the right of one individual

is as important as
an entire community.

And General Custer said,

I think we just lost our scalps.

Wilbur, Wilbur, I've
been thinking it over

and I've decided that
no one is so important

they cannot apologize.

Oh?

So I'm ready to accept yours.

What?

Why don't we
forget the whole thing

and play a round of golf?

Sorry, Rog, I've
got to mail this letter.

Can't you see you're
wrong about the bridle path?

Horses should not
be pushed around.

That's right.

They should be pulling wagons.

Did you ever pull a wagon?

- Did he?
- [snort]

Look, when this letter
reaches the editor,

the people will be on my side.

I gotta get that letter.

What it needs is
some horse sense.

My literary efforts
against your literary efforts.

And may the best man win.

May the better man win.

[typewriter keys clacking]

And in conclusion, as
we enter the space age,

can we not set aside
a few feet on earth

for man's noble
friend the horse?

With deepest
conviction, Wilbur Post.

Good morning, ladies.

Oh!

What's the matter?
What happened?

Oh, Wilbur, they published
your letter in the paper.

They did?

Wilbur, you've
moved me to tears.

I must write letters more often.

Oh, such beautiful language.

On a bridle path, horse
and master are alone,

man and the beast
together as nature intended it.

Isn't that beautiful?

Yeah, now read my letter, hmm?

This is your letter.
Your name is on it.

It is?

Eh, eh, "in the bridle path.

"And in conclusion, as
we enter the space age,

"can we not set aside
a few feet on earth

"for man's noble
friend the horse?

With deepest
conviction, Wilbur Post."

Wilbur, you sound as though

you're reading that
for the first time.

"A few feet on earth

for man's noble
friend the horse."

Gee, Ed's clever.

[both] Ed?

Yeah, Ed, is short for editor,

you see, the editor is clever.

I mean, he wrote this
and didn't change a word.

Wilbur.

Roger, if you're gonna hit me,

please use a wood, not an iron.

That letter in the paper.

I read it, and you are so right.

I didn't realize
how unjust it was,

how palpably unfair.

Rog, it takes a big
man to admit he's wrong.

Oh, Wilbur, I'm so proud of you.

Now nobody would even think
of removing that bridle path.

Even I feel differently
about horses now.

Oh, I'm so proud of my big doll.

Honey. Why don't
you go to the barn

and give Mister
Ed his breakfast?

Well, yes, the poor
thing must be starving.

Yeah, I think he
deserves special attention

after his letter.

Uh, well, you see, I
consider it part his.

If I hadn't been
so close to him,

I never could have written it.

A horse has so
little out of life.

A few blades of
grass, some oats...

Oh, dear, I do have talent.

I've got to admit, your
letter is better than mine.

I'm glad you're not angry.

I am angry, angry I
can't write as well as you.

Don't feel badly.

You're probably a
better architect than me.

- Oh, thanks, Ed.
- [phone ringing]

I'll get it.

No, I'll get it.

Oh, let me.

Stay where you are.

[Ed grumbles]

Hello.

Mister Post?

I read your letter this
morning in the Valley News,

it's masterfully written.

Well, thank you. I
did the best I could.

How would you like to
write a book on animals

for one of our
spring publications?

Me?

Oh, no, I couldn't write a book.

Mr. Post, your
letter made me cry.

Well, I guess my letter
made a lot of people cry.

Ahem.

His letter. My letter.

Mr. Boyd, what
I'm trying to say is

I'm an architect, not a writer.

I am prepared to offer
you $2,500 advance.

$2,500?

Well say, that is a
lot of money, isn't it?

But, I'm sorry, I told you,

I'm an architect, not a writer.

I recognize talent.

Now just take the same
brain that wrote that letter

and apply it to writing a book.

Well, yes, I guess I could
carry on with my architecture

while my brain
was writing a book.

Mr. Boyd, you've
got yourself an author.

Fine.

And as customary,
we'll have a cocktail party

to introduce you
to the literary world.

A cocktail party, eh?
Yes, that's quite an honor.

Well, yes, thank you, thank
you very much, Mr. Boyd.

Good-bye.

Ed, we are rich.

Ed, how long would it
take you to write a book?

Come again?

You're gonna write a book
just like you wrote the letter,

then we'll be able
to... Whoa, whoa, boy.

I wrote that letter to make sure

I'd have a place
to meet Princess.

Now wait a minute,
Ed, you got me into this.

If it hadn't been for you,

none of this would
have happened.

Now, you're gonna
write that book,

or I don't take you to the
bridle path to see Princess.

Do you really mean that?

I really mean that.

Wilbur, put a new
ribbon in the typewriter.

A literary party in my honor.

I wonder what
famous authors wear.

Horseshoes.

Watch it.

Looks like my brain
has gone to his head.

[crickets chirping]

- A drink?
- Yes.

If you'd like some
hors d'oeuvres,

just help yourself.

Is everything all right?

Yes.

Good. Enjoy yourself.

Well, it's certainly taking
Wilbur a long time to get dressed.

Oh, he's so excited.

He's as nervous as a little boy.

Perhaps I better go upstairs

and help him on
with his sneakers.

I'm sure he'll be right down.

I've heard a great deal about...

Good evening, everybody.

Ah...

I just want to set the
world on fire, not my coat.

Oh, he is witty.

Wilbur, this is Miss Mead,

literary critic for
the Author's Review.

How do you do, Miss Mead?

How do you do, Mr. Post?

I read your letter
in the newspaper,

and I must say, you're
simply absolument merveilleux.

Touché.

Mr. Post, I hope you don't
mind the photographers,

but the newspapers are all
clamoring for a picture of you.

Oh, my typewriter
and I thank you.

Oh, he is brilliant, you know?

Absolument merveilleux.

Right over here.

All right, Charlie?

All set?

Thank you.

I want you to meet a
very important critic,

right over here.

Miss Williams, may I present

our distinguished
author, Mr. Post.

- How do you do?
- No, no, no.

Mr. Post, how does it feel
to be writing your first book?

Well, at first, I
felt a bit uncertain,

but then, so did Mark Twain.

[laughter]

Touché.

Carol, do you think Wilbur's
becoming a little conceited?

No. He's just sort of nervous.

If he gets any more nervous,
he's going to kiss himself.

Mrs. Post, I think your husband

is a marvelous talent,

and when his book is a success,

I believe it's going to
change his entire way of life.

Oh, I don't think so.

We may travel a little bit,

perhaps move to a
better neighborhood.

I see nothing wrong
with this neighborhood.

Well, neither would I

if I were living next
door to a famous author.

Oh, Rog, I didn't mean...

Mrs. Post, do you
mind very much, I want...

I want your husband
to meet someone

from the foreign press, please?

Thank you.

May I introduce
you to Miss Barr.

How do you do, Mr. Post?

Tell me, does writing
come easily to you?

Well, very easy, yes, yes.

Subconsciously, I'm
creating all the time.

You might say right
now, my mind is at work.

"Dedicated to Princess,

"without whose love
and understanding,

this book would never
have been possible."

How excruciatingly
funny, Mr. Post.

Très naturelle.

[laughter]

Does he have a snuff box, too?

Wilbur doesn't
even know I'm here.

If Miss Mead sits any closer,

she'll be on both sides of him.

You know, Carol, if I were you,

I'd break that up.

I'd love to, but how?

Here, take this napkin
and put it under his drink.

At least he'll see you.

All right.

Excuse me.

Autograph?
Certainly, young lady.

Sincerely, Wilbur
Post. There we are.

Actually, my style is more
reminiscent of F. Scott Fitzgerald.

So whatever my book
will teach you about horses

is coming to you directly
from the horse's mouth.

No, no, that's pretty corny.

I can do better than that.

Well, since I'm only starting,

I don't expect to
win the Pulitzer Prize

for at least four or five years.

No, she won, she won.

You're next.

Excuse me.

I'm going home and
be sick. Good night.

Wilbur, one of your
guests is leaving.

Oh? Oh, it's just Rog.

I know another one of
his guests who is leaving.

Who?

Me!

Oh... [weeping]

Oh, Kay, that's not the
Wilbur Post I married.

Why, he's spoiled and conceited.

If he keeps on acting like
this, it'll wreck our marriage.

Oh, please don't cry.

I just can't bear to
see you like this, Carol.

Come on over to my house
and we'll have a cup of coffee.

Oh!

You'll feel better. Come on.

What would I do without you?

I think I'll have to
change my first chapter.

Good morning, Edward.

That was quite a party
last night, wasn't it?

The nice thing was that
everybody had a chance to meet me.

By the way, when
my book comes out,

I'll autograph a copy to you.

[yawning loudly]

Thanks a bunch. Say, Wilbur.

Yes, Edward?

I finished the first chapter.

You better read it.

Good! My first chapter.

Uh-huh...

"If horses could talk
and man would listen,

"the world would be
one large happy stable.

One of our cherished
blessings is humility."

I like that, Ed.

Continue.

"A horse would never let
success go to his mane."

That's wonderful.

[Ed] Continue.

"There is nothing worse
than a self-centered horse

"who ignores the love
of his wife and neighbors,

"even if said neighbor
is not too likeable

and has a moustache."
That's Roger, huh?

"Fame, when abused,

"can turn a sweet
loveable architect

into an overbearing,

"self-centered, conceited fool,

and ruin a happy marriage."

[sniffling, crying]

Ed, I think I got the message.

Thanks.

Oh, cheer up, Carol, and
try to have some breakfast.

I'm not even hungry.

That Wilbur!

If he were smaller, I'd
punch him right in the nose.

Good morning, everybody.

Aren't you glad that
awful party's all over

and we don't have to be nice

to those pretentious
phonies anymore?

How did you like my act, huh?

You know, they all thought I
was taking myself seriously,

when all the time
I was just... Just...

Just a big darn fool.

I hope you'll all forgive me.

Welcome home, neighbor.

Nice to have you back, Wilbur.

Oh, Wilbur.

There we are.

Let's see how this sounds, Ed.

[clearing throat]

"Dear Mr. Boyd,

"Enclosed please find
your check for $2,500.

"I am unable at this
time to write a book.

"My architectural work
keeps me too busy.

Yours truly."

What are you doing?

You'd better let me
write that letter for you.

- Well, why?
- It needs style.

I want him to think
my Wilbur's a genius.

Oh, Ed, you know, if you'd
been my roommate at college,

I would have made
Phi Beta Kappa.

Me in college. Well...

[Ed humming college song]

♪ A horse is a horse,
of course, of course ♪

♪ And no one can talk
to a horse, of course ♪

♪ That is, of course,
unless the horse ♪

♪ Is the famous Mister Ed ♪

♪ Go right to the source
and ask the horse ♪

♪ He'll give you the answer ♪

♪ That you'll endorse ♪

♪ He's always on
a steady course ♪

♪ Talk to Mister Ed ♪

♪ People yakkity-yak a streak ♪

♪ And waste your time of day ♪

♪ But Mister Ed
will never speak ♪

♪ Unless he has
something to say ♪

♪ A horse is a horse,
of course, of course ♪

♪ And this one will talk
till his voice is hoarse ♪

♪ You never heard
of a talking horse? ♪

♪ Well, listen to this ♪

[Mister Ed] ♪ I am Mister Ed ♪
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