Microphone Plays‎ > ‎

Bird's Nest in the Mailbox

Fibber McGee and Molly

Bird's Nest in the Mailbox

May 29 1951



CAST:

HARLOW WILCOX, announcer

THE KING'S MEN, singing group

NBC ANNCR (1 line)


FIBBER McGEE

MOLLY McGEE

THE BIRD, whistles and chirps

DOC

WIMPLE, henpecked husband

TEENY, little girl

LaTRIVIA, pompous mayor

OLE, Swedish




HARLOW: The PET Milk program with Fibber McGee and Molly!


MUSIC: THEME AND UNDER


(APPLAUSE)


HARLOW: The first evaporated milk, PET Milk, presents Fibber McGee and Molly; with Bill Thompson, Gale Gordon, Arthur Q. Bryan, Dick LeGrand, and me, Harlow Wilcox. The show is written by Don Quinn and Phil Leslie and directed by Max Hutto, with music by the King's Men and the Billy Mills' orchestra.


MUSIC: THEME ... UP AND OUT


HARLOW: When friends get together in the evening, there always comes a time when the happiest thing you can say is, "How about a cup of coffee?" And take my word for it, that good coffee you make, whether hot or iced, will taste extra good when you serve PET Milk with it. PET Milk is whole milk that's double rich; concentrated to double richness by evaporation. And it gives coffee such a good, creamy color, and fine mellow flavor. Once you use it, you'll probably be like so many others who would rather use PET Milk than cream in coffee. Now, most foods that give you extra pleasure cost extra, too, but not PET Milk. Just think of it, PET Milk costs less than half as much as ordinary coffee cream. So always have PET Milk on hand for coffee as well as for cooking. Get some at your grocer's tomorrow.


MUSIC: TAG AND OUT

 

HARLOW: The nicest part of a trip to visit your Aunt Sarah is the part where you come back up your own front steps again. (CHUCKLES) And coming back up their own front steps again we find -- Fibber McGee and Molly!


(APPLAUSE)


SOUND: FOOTSTEPS ON WOODEN PORCH


MOLLY: Oh, my, it's good to get home again, McGee. 


FIBBER: Yeah, it sure is, kiddo.


MOLLY: It was nice at Aunt Sarah's. But I was beginning to get a real case of nostalgia, dearie.


FIBBER: Yeah, me, too. It was the water I think. ... Full o' chlorine. Boy, the old place looks just the same, don't it?


MOLLY: Yeah.


FIBBER: How long we've been away now, Molly?


MOLLY: Five days.


FIBBER: Oh. ...


MOLLY: Unlock the door, will ya? These bags are heavy.


FIBBER: Oh, sorry. Gee whiz, I'm afraid I'm not very thoughtful, Molly.


MOLLY: (CHUCKLES)


FIBBER: Expectin' you to open the door when you got both hands full. ...


MOLLY: Well, think nothing of it, dearie. I could've done it with my teeth, of course, only I don't have any tee-- Er, the key. ...


FIBBER: Oh-- (CHUCKLES)


SOUND: KEY IN LOCK ... DOOR UNLOCKS AND OPENS


FIBBER: Here, set the bags inside. I want to gather up the newspapers here on the porch.


SOUND: THUMP-THUMP! OF LUGGAGE


MOLLY: (RELIEVED) Oooh, my! Now I know why they call these suitcases Gladstones. They feel like they're full of stones and I'm glad to set them down, dearie! ...


FIBBER: Five days of the Wistful Vista Gazette is quite a stack of stale stuff, Molly. Scattered all over the porch it was.


SOUND: DOOR CLOSES ... RUSTLE OF NEWSPAPERS IN AGREEMENT WITH FOLLOWING--


MOLLY: Well, what's in the paper? Anything interesting?


FIBBER: Naw, you know the Gazette. The only time we ever got anything interesting in that paper was when they used to wrap hot tamales in it. ... Oh, here's somethin' about a friend of yours, though. 


MOLLY: (EAGERLY) Who? Who? Who?


FIBBER: Who? Old Man McDonald the president of the Third National Bank's wife. Picture of her here plantin' a tree at the animal shelter. Caption says, "A Dog's Best Friend." ...


MOLLY: Well, she should be. She looks like a Pekinese. ... What's it say on the back page there? Something about Red China, isn't it?


FIBBER: Where? Oh. Oh, they're having a sale on it at the crockery shop. ... Remember when they opened that place, Molly?


MOLLY: I remember it well.


FIBBER: They ran an ad that said, "All visitors get crockery free," and Uncle Dennis thought it said "crocked" and he run all the way down there. (CHUCKLES) ... 


MOLLY: Well, now, that was a natural mistake, dearie. His glasses were foggy.


FIBBER: Yeah, so was Uncle Dennis. ... Oh, look at this, kiddo, here's a cute picture. A little mother bird built a nest in an open mailbox on some guy's porch.


MOLLY: (CHARMED) In a mailbox? My goodness.


FIBBER: Yeah, sort of a human interest picture.


MOLLY: Should be interesting to birds, too.


FIBBER: Yep. Hmm. It says, "Your roving photographer took his photo of one tenant who has solved her housing problem."


MOLLY: That's cute. 


FIBBER: Yeah. 


MOLLY: Yeah.


FIBBER: (READS) "Finding a mailbox with the lid open on the front porch at Seventy-Nine Wistful Vista, our feathered friend built her nest in it, completely sealing the top of the box with mud and straw and--" (BIG TAKE) SEVENTY-NINE WISTFUL VISTA! Hey! Hey, that's our house!


MOLLY: What?


FIBBER: Hey look, this is a picture of our porch! Hey, that's our mailbox, ain't it?


MOLLY: Heavenly days, it is!


FIBBER: Why, sure.


MOLLY: Let's look and see if she's still there.


FIBBER: Yeah.


SOUND: NEWSPAPER SET DOWN ... DOOR OPENS, THEIR STEPS ONTO WOODEN PORCH


FIBBER: Huh. (WARMLY) Oh, my gosh, Molly. Look at him settin' there.


MOLLY: Oh, isn't that wonderful?


FIBBER: Yeah.


MOLLY: (TENDERLY) Hello birdie. How's the little mother?


BIRD: (WHISTLES) ...


FIBBER: (AS IF TO CHILD) Hello, birdie. How's the little birdie?


BIRD: (ANGRY CHIRPING)


FIBBER: Hey, that's cute. He thinks I'm gonna-- Hey, Molly, there's a letter under that nest. I - I can see it through the little window.


MOLLY: What is it, a circular?


FIBBER: No, it looks like it's square. ... All I can see, though, 's part of the return address. It says, "After five days return to United States Government Department of--"


MOLLY: Of what?


FIBBER: I don't know; that's all I can see of it. (EXCITEDLY) My gosh, the United States Government! "Return in five days to--" Well, we've been gone five days! Hey, this might be important!


MOLLY: Well, how are you gonna get it out of there?


FIBBER: Well, I don't know. I gotta figure out somethin', though. Gee, it might be a tax refund or somethin'.


MOLLY: Sure.


FIBBER: And it says, "Return in five days" -- and this is the last day! If I can't get it out and read it, I gotta return it. ...


MOLLY: (SWEETLY) Aw, just look at her, McGee; just look at her. So trusting. She knows we're not goin' to disturb her.


FIBBER: (SOURLY) Oh, he does, does he? ... Well, how am I gonna get that letter out of there without disturbing him?


MOLLY: Well, I don't know, but come on inside now; we're bothering her.


SOUND: THEIR FOOTSTEPS BRIEFLY BEHIND--


FIBBER: Well, okay. But, gee whiz, Molly, bird or no bird, I've gotta get that letter out--


MOLLY: Oh, wait, look who's coming, McGee. (CALLS) Hello, Doctor! 


SOUND: DOC'S STEPS ONTO PORCH


DOC: (CHEERFUL) Welcome home, Molly. (TO FIBBER) Hello, foot locker. ...


FIBBER: Foot locker? 


DOC: Yeah, that's a low chest, and yours has slipped so far down that--


FIBBER: Oh.


DOC: Oh, yeah -- you know what? There's a bird's nest in your mailbox.


FIBBER: Yeah, we know, fatso; we seen it. And also a letter from the government in there, and I can't get it out. And guys that they ignore letters from the government got a nasty habit of gettin' their next mail at Leavenworth.


MOLLY: (CHUCKLES)


FIBBER: I'm liable to get a habeas corset from the Attorney General. ...


MOLLY: That's habeas corpus, not corset.


FIBBER: Well, what's the difference? Either way you wind up in confinement. ... Well, lard bucket, you got any suggestions?


DOC: No, but speaking of confinement, I've got to get to the hospital, at least by tomorrow -- Labor Day. ...


MOLLY: Why, tomorrow isn't Labor Day, Doctor; it's Decoration Day.


DOC: For Mrs. Cladderhatch it's Labor Day. ... Well, if you're going to Alcatraz, McGee, I'll bake you a cake with a pie in it.


FIBBER: Yeah.


DOC: Bye now.


FIBBER: So long, fatso.


(APPLAUSE)


FIBBER: Baby, this thing has gotten me worried. Maybe I can coax the bird off long enough to get the letter out from the-- (TO BIRD) Here, birdie. Here, birdie.


BIRD: (ANGRY CHIRPING)


FIBBER: Ouch! Dad drat that—that-- Hey, hey! He bit my thumb! 


MOLLY: Wasn't that cute, McGee? 


FIBBER: Huh? 


MOLLY: She winked at me.


FIBBER: (DISGUSTED) Ohhh. 


MUSIC: ORCHESTRA STARTS ITS NUMBER ... THEN IN BG


HARLOW: Billy Mills and the Orchestra and "On Top of Old Smokey."


MUSIC: ORCHESTRA PLAYS SWINGING VERSION OF "ON TOP OF OLD SMOKEY"


(APPLAUSE)


SOUND: NOISY CLATTER OF TOOLS AND TOOLBOX ... THEN BRIEFLY BEHIND--


FIBBER: (SINGS WORDLESSLY TO HIMSELF)


MOLLY: Good heavens, McGee! What are all the tools for? What are you going to do?


FIBBER: I'm gonna get that letter out of that mailbox, that's what. I ain't gonna have Uncle Sam on my tail for because I ignored an official communication.


MOLLY: Yeah, but you can't take that little bird off the nest when it's hatching an egg.


FIBBER: I ain't gonna. I'm gonna chop a hole in the hall wall. ... Gonna take the letter out o' the back of the mailbox. It won't disturb the--


MOLLY: (SLOW, DISBELIEF) Chop a hole in the hall wall, he says. ... Awww, no, you don't! ...


FIBBER: Well, you've got a better idea? (NO ANSWER) So I chop a hole in the hall wall! Here we go.


SOUND: HAMMER ON CHISEL INTO WALL PLASTER ... HAMMERING CONTINUES IN BG


FIBBER: Now, you'll admit, I've tried everything else, kiddo. 


MOLLY: Yeah, but, McGee, you can't--


FIBBER: I've tried luring it off the nest with bread crumbs, I sprinkled bird seed knee-deep all over the porch, and I tried kindness and patience.


MOLLY: Well, maybe you didn't try the right kind of bait.


SOUND: HAMMERING STOPS


FIBBER: I tried everything from worms to chocolate doughnuts. ... I don't know what to feed it unless I know what kind of a bird it is.


MOLLY: Well, if it's any help to you, Mr. Wimple just came up the walk with his bird book, dearie.


FIBBER: Oh?


MOLLY: He's out there now looking at the little thing.


FIBBER: Oh. Oh, Wally Wimple. Good. Oh, he knows birds. Maybe he can-- 


SOUND: DOOR OPENS


WIMPLE: (WIMPILY) Hello, folks. ...


MOLLY: Hello, Mr. Wimple.


FIBBER: Hiya, Wimp. Did you look in our mailbox? Did you see our little feathered fiend out there?


WIMPLE: (GENTLY CORRECTS HIM) Feathered friend, Mr. McGee.


FIBBER: He may be a friend to you, boy, but it ain't your "letter that I gotta return it to the government in five days which I've already used up" she's settin' on. ... It's mine!


MOLLY: Did you get a good look at the bird, Mr. Wimple?


FIBBER: Yeah, what kind of bird are we being infested with anyhow, you know, Wimp?


WIMPLE: Well, as near as I can make out from my bird book, it's a cinch it isn't a finch. ...


FIBBER: Oh, we don't care what it ain't, we wanna know what it 'tis!


WIMPLE: Well, as far as I can make out, it seems to be a combination. 


FIBBER: Mm hm.


WIMPLE: A hybrid. A - a - a--


FIBBER: Cross?


WIMPLE: Cross? I'll say. It's a nasty little bird. ... In fact, I'd classify it as a genuine sprob lark face.


MOLLY: A what? A sprob lark face?


WIMPLE: Yes. It has the bill of a sparrow, the breast of a robin, feet like a lark, and a disposition like - Sweetie-face, my big old wife. ...


FIBBER: (CHUCKLES) How is the old battle axe--? I mean, ah-- ... How is Mrs. Wimple, Wimple? 


WIMPLE: Oh, she's just dandy, Mr. McGee. 


FIBBER: Good. 


WIMPLE: She's up to something today which just delights me.


MOLLY: Oh, really, Mr. Wimple? What is she up to? 


WIMPLE: Up to Saint Paul, Minnesota. ... To visit her sister. 


FIBBER: Oh? 


WIMPLE: I wrote her a little poem this morning. 


FIBBER: Oh, can we keep you from reciting it, Wimp? 


WIMPLE: With the greatest difficulty, Mr. McGee. I call it "Mint Sauce." 


FIBBER: Oh. 


MOLLY: Oh, that's a cute title for a poem. (CHUCKLES) "Mint Sauce." 


WIMPLE: Yes. (CHUCKLES, CLEARS THROAT) "Mint Sauce." 


FIBBER: (SKEPTICAL) "Mint Sauce."


WIMPLE: (RECITES) 

I'm growing mint while you are gone 

In a mint bed on the lawn. 

If I took it in juleps, I'd be in a jam,

So I'll just take it - on the lamb.

So long, folks.


SOUND: DOOR CLOSES


(APPLAUSE)


FIBBER: (REPEATS, UNHAPPILY) "I'll just take it--" Well, back to work.


SOUND: HAMMERING RESUMES INTERMITTENTLY IN BG


MOLLY: Well, I must say that's a horrible mess you're making of the hall wall, McGee.


FIBBER: Well, it's got to be done, kiddo. I can't take that bird off the nest, and I gotta get that letter from the government. So the only thing to do is to chop through the hall wall behind the mailbox and--


MOLLY: You're sure you're cutting through the right place there?


FIBBER: Well, I measured it. With a rubber band. ... Couldn't find the tape measure. See, it was just this far from the door jam.


MOLLY: The hinge side or the knob side?


FIBBER: (CHUCKLES) That's a silly question. There's knobs on both sides of a door. ... The mailbox is on the side of the hinges, so-- Hm. (BEAT) Oh-oh.


MOLLY: (BEAT) Wrong side?


FIBBER: Yeah. ... (CHUCKLES) Boy, I sure messed up a lot of plaster in the wrong place, didn't I?


MOLLY: You certainly did.


FIBBER: Oh, well. That gives us a show for next week. ... "McGee plasters the hall wall." ... That ought to be a very interesting--


SOUND: DOOR OPENS ... THEN CLOSES BEHIND--


HARLOW: Hey, pal; Molly! You know something? You've got a bird in your mailbox!


MOLLY: Yes, Mr. Wilcox, we know that.


FIBBER: We're keepin' it there for a pet, Junior.


HARLOW: Well, good for you! I've got a little PET at home, and you know where I put it?


MOLLY: No, where?


HARLOW: In the coffee. ...


MOLLY: I knew it, I knew it. ...


HARLOW: Because, you see, in coffee, PET Evaporated Milk gives you that fine mellow flavor and creamy color.


FIBBER: The reason I'm cuttin' through the hall wall here, Junior, is on account of because there's a letter in there that I ain't read yet.


HARLOW: Oh, well, look, look, look. Never mind the unread letters, pal. Let's just think of the red-letter days in our lives! And it's a red-letter day when you first try that rich, delicious, satisfying PET Milk in your coffee.


MOLLY: You see, Mr. Wilcox, we don't want to disturb that sweet little bird and besides every time McGee reaches into the mailbox he gets pecked.


FIBBER: Yeah.


HARLOW: Aw, that's too bad, pal. Too bad you're not as im-peccable as PET Milk. 


FIBBER: (GROANS) ... 


HARLOW: Because PET Milk is not only good to taste, it's in good taste--


FIBBER: Yeah?


HARLOW: --on the best dining tables in the land. And selected by the best cooks, the fussiest housewives, and the most coffee-conscious husbands. Yes sir, PET Milk, the first evaporated--


FIBBER: (INTERRUPTS) Hey, hey, hey -- "Milky"? ...


HARLOW: (FINISHES SPIEL) --the first evaporated milk, gives you extra taste and pleasure without extra cost. (TO FIBBER) Yes, pal?


MOLLY: Do you know any reason why the government would be writing McGee a letter?


FIBBER: Might be a tax refund, except for one thing.


HARLOW: What thing?


FIBBER: I didn't pay any tax last year. ... Forgot it, so-- I don't know why they should be writin' to me.


HARLOW: Well, the only thing I can think of: it might be a draft call. 


FIBBER: (WORRIED) Say--


HARLOW: Although Doc Gamble says you're Five-F. 


MOLLY: He did?


FIBBER: What's "Five-F"?


HARLOW: Fat, forty-five, and fouled-up physically. See you later, folks! ...


SOUND: DOOR SLAM


(APPLAUSE)


FIBBER: (LAUGHS) Imagine him-- Ha. Imagine him accusin' me of being forty-five. (CHUCKLES) ... Bless his little evaporated heart. ...


SOUND: HAMMERING RESUMES


MOLLY: (SLOWLY MOVING OFF) Well, dearie, I think I'm going upstairs to unpack the suitcases. Now, as soon as you get the letter out, let me know because I'm dying of curiosity.


FIBBER: Okay, kiddo. (TO HIMSELF) Now there goes a good kid. And independent, too. Won't take nothin' off o' nobody. Even a bird off'n a nest. ... Even to get a government letter that goodness only knows how important--


SOUND: DOORBELL CHIMES


FIBBER: Come in!


SOUND: DOOR OPENS


FIBBER: Oh, hello, Teeny.


TEENY: Hi, mister. 


SOUND: DOOR CLOSES


TEENY: Hey, you know what?


FIBBER: Oh, sure, sure, I know. (WEARILY) We've got a bird in our mailbox.


TEENY: Gee, you have?


FIBBER: Well, sure. Wasn't that what you were goin' to tell me?


TEENY: Noooo.


FIBBER: Oh.


TEENY: No, I was going to tell you that school's out pretty soon and--


FIBBER: Oh, I see.


TEENY: Hey, hey, can I see the little bird in your mailbox, mister, hmm, can I please, hmmm, can I, hmm?


FIBBER: (CHUCKLES) Why? You like birds? 


TEENY: Oh, gee. I love birds, I betcha. 


FIBBER: Mm hm. 


TEENY: I think birds are the prettiest things that fly except my cousin Charlene. ...


FIBBER: Your cousin Charlene?


TEENY: Sure. She's a hostess on a' airline. 


FIBBER: Oh. (CHUCKLES) 


TEENY: (YES) Mm-hm. 


FIBBER: She is, eh?


TEENY: Sure. She's one of the-- Hmmm


FIBBER: I said, "She is, eh?" 


TEENY: Is what? 


FIBBER: An airline hostess.


TEENY: Who is? 


FIBBER: (EXASPERATED) Your cousin Charlene!


TEENY: I know it. ... Oh, but I do love birds, too, I betcha. Hey, Mister?


FIBBER: Hm?


TEENY: Do you know any stories about birds, hmm, do ya, huh?


FIBBER: Well, now, let me see. You ever hear the story about how the little cuckoo made good? It's a success story.


TEENY: Oh, gee, I love success stories, I betcha. Tell me, please. 


FIBBER: Okay. Well, sir. Once upon a time-- 


TEENY: (QUICKLY) I heard it. ...


FIBBER: No, you haven't. I never told it yet.


TEENY: Oh.


FIBBER: So. Once upon a time, a bunch of birds got together in a big woods and decided to form a glee club.


TEENY: Oh, glee, a gee club.


FIBBER: Huh?


TEENY: (GIGGLES) I mean, "Oh, gee, a glee club." 


FIBBER: Yeah. ... Yes sir, they were all there: the robins and the larks and the bluebirds and the crows--


TEENY: Hey, hey, crows can't sing good, I betcha.


FIBBER: Sis, you're old enough now to know that when any bunch of people or birds get together to sing, there's always a few crows who don't know they can't sing and ya just gotta be patient with 'em. ... (APPLAUSE)


TEENY: Okay, okay. Go on, mister, go on, go on, go on.


FIBBER: Right away the woodpecker called the meeting to order. Knock, knock! Knock, knock!


TEENY: (GIGGLES) That was usin' the ol' head, wasn't it? ...


FIBBER: I'll do the jokes, sis. ... Well, sir. After the meeting was called to order, the woodpecker turned to a little redbird sittin' next to him and he says, "Cardinal, will you give the benediction?"


TEENY: Ohhh.


FIBBER: Then up come the question of nominations. And right away the crow says, "I want to be president." And the owl says, "Who?" And the crow says, "Me!" And the robin says, "Why?" And the crow says, "Caws." ... And all the swallows kinda gulped and the crow got elected. ...


TEENY: Hmmm. But gee-- But gee, how did the little cuckoo make good, mister, hmmm, how did he, hmmm, how did he?


FIBBER: Ah, ha. That's the crux of the whole story, sis. 


TEENY: Oh, goody! Go on, go on, go on.


FIBBER: Okay. They were twittering around about who could be the different officers and the little cuckoo piped up. "I want to be secretary," he says. And all the other birds laughed fit to bust because little cuckoo was kind of a silly-lookin' little bird; and they laughed, and they laughed, and they laughed.


TEENY: (SIMPERING GIGGLE)


FIBBER: Until the little cuckoo flew away into the deep woods, his little heart almost busted.


TEENY: (SADLY) Ohhh. If I'd a-been a bird, I betcha, I'd've eleck-a-ted him secretary, I betcha. 


FIBBER: Why, sure you would, sis. 


TEENY: Mm hm. I would have.


FIBBER: But these other birds didn't realize how loyal and faithful and hard-working a cuckoo could be. Well, sir. As the little cuckoo sat there in the tree weeping, the fairy godmother of the forest come along and says, "Now don't cry, little bird."


TEENY: (HEARTENED) Oh. 


FIBBER: I'm gonna make you a secretary for the whole world. 


TEENY: (PLEASED) Ohhh. 


FIBBER: And she touched him with her fairy wand. Bssszzzzz! 


TEENY: Oh, boy. But - but why did--?


FIBBER: And that's why, sis, every hour of the day, you'll find the loyal, hard-workin', faithful, little cuckoo -- secretary to the world -- presenting the minutes of the last meeting.


TEENY: Oh.


SOUND: APPLAUSE BEHIND--


MUSIC: ORCHESTRA ... THEN IN BG


HARLOW: The King's Men and "By the Watermelon Vine."


MUSIC: THE KING'S MEN SING 1904's "BY THE WATERMELON VINE, LINDY LOU" ... THEN ORCHESTRA OUT


(APPLAUSE)


SOUND: HAMMERING RESUMES ... THEN OUT BEHIND--


FIBBER: (HUMS TO HIMSELF) Well, I'm almost through the hall wall, Molly. I'll know that letter in another five minutes, all right.


MOLLY: I'm glad to hear that. How that little bird has stood all that hammering and pounding, I'll never know.


FIBBER: (CHUCKLES)


MOLLY: It's almost driven me away from my nest.


FIBBER: Well, I tried every other way to get him out of there, but he's harder to evict than the landlord's wife's mother. ... Now all I got to do is--


SOUND: LIGHT HAMMER TAPS ON THE CHISEL ... PLASTER BREAKS AWAY


FIBBER: Ah, ha. Ah, ha. There's the back of the mailbox. I can see it. 


MOLLY: Yeah, but how do you get through the metal mailbox? 


FIBBER: Can opener! 


SOUND: LIGHT HAMMER TAPS ON THE CHISEL ... MORE PLASTER BREAKS AWAY


FIBBER: As soon as I chip a little more plaster away, I'll be ready to open her up.


SOUND: DOORBELL CHIMES


MOLLY: Come in!


SOUND: DOOR OPENS


MOLLY: Well, heavenly days! His Honor Mayor LaTrivia. 


OLE: Yeah, and me, too, missus. 


MOLLY: Oh, Ole from the Elks Club. Er, McGee, look who's here.


FIBBER: Oh, hi. Hi, hi. 


LaTRIVIA: Say-- Say, McGee, do you know what? You've got a bird in your mailbox. ...


OLE: Yah, Mister Mayor and I vas valkin' past vun day and ve seen a bird fly into da mailbox.


LaTRIVIA: And Ole said, "Oh, an airmail letter for McGee." ...


OLE: I yust make a small yoke, McGee, that's all. ...


FIBBER: Yeah, a very small one. ... Don't worry, I know all about that bird in the mailbox. 


MOLLY: And there is a letter in there, too -- under the bird's nest.


FIBBER: Yeah, a letter from the government. The only way I can get it out without disturbin' the bird off the nest is chop a hole in the wall in the hall, which I'm doing now to get to--


OLE: Oh, I get lots of letters from Vashington, McGee. 


FIBBER: Yeah?


OLE: My cousin Thor, he's a big bureau-crate dere. 


LaTRIVIA: You mean bureaucrat, Ole.


OLE: No, crate. He crates bureaus for a big wan and storage company. ...


MOLLY: Well, I'll tell ya, McGee is a little worried about this letter. Goodness only knows what it could be.


FIBBER: Yeah, might be almost anything: draft notice, federal grand jury summons, some kind of an appointment. As a politician, LaTrivia, what do you think?


LaTRIVIA: As a politician, McGee, I would say that any communication from your government deserves your immediate attention, your earnest consideration, and your heartiest cooperation.


FIBBER: Well, that's the same--


LaTRIVIA: But, as Homer LaTrivia, private citizen, I would say, "Whatever it is, pretend you never got it." ...


OLE: You know, our kid, little Ole Senior; he's only three years old. He gets a letter yesterday from da--


LaTRIVIA: (INTERRUPTS) Wait. Wait a minute. Only three years old and you call him "Ole Senior"?


OLE: Yah, sure. You see, my papa vas Ole Senior, so I'm Ole Yunior. So it's my little Ole's turn to be Senior again. ... Vell, anyvay, little Ole Senior, three years old, he gets a letter yesterday--


MOLLY: Well, how cute. Who was it from and what did it say?


OLE: Vell, ve don't know, missus. You see, little Ole Senior's only three years old and he can't read yet, you know. ...


FIBBER: Well, be that as it may or may not be or not, if you fellows'll keep quiet so it won't disturb that little bird, I'll make this hole a little bigger and get my letter out.


SOUND: HAMMERING RESUMES BRIEFLY BEHIND--


LaTRIVIA: Hmmm, don't disturb the bird he says. All this racket is enough to--


FIBBER: Hey, I'm gettin' it, I'm gettin' it! I got the whole back of the mailbox clear. Hand me the can opener, Molly.


MOLLY: Okay. Here you are.


FIBBER: Now let's see.


SOUND: CAN OPENER ON METAL


FIBBER: There! There it is! I got it! Hey! It's a letter from the government -- and a post card, too!


MOLLY: Oh?


SOUND: LETTER OPENED BEHIND--


OLE: Vell, open it up McGee, I vant to see what kind of trouble you're in. (CHUCKLES) ...


MOLLY: What does it say, McGee? What does it say? 


FIBBER: It says, (READS) "Dear sir. Enclosed, as per your request of October Nineteen Forty-Seven, ... is Government Pamphlet Number Nine-Eight-Two-Four-Five-K –- 'How to Rid Your Home of Pests'." ...


MOLLY: Pests?


FIBBER: I don't even remember sending-- Ohhhh, I remember now. (LAUGHS) I sent for that when Uncle Dennis was livin' with us. ...


MOLLY: What?


FIBBER: Well, I don't need this pamphlet now.


SOUND: PAMPHLET RIPPED UP


LaTRIVIA: Well, uh, how about the post card, McGee?


MOLLY: I have the post card here.


FIBBER: Oh, read it.


MOLLY: It says, uh, (READS) "Dear youngsters, I will arrive soon to spend the summer with you. Love, Uncle Dennis." ...


FIBBER: (UNHAPPY) Ohhh. Down on your knees, boys. We gotta put that pamphlet back together again.


MUSIC: CURTAIN


(APPLAUSE)


HARLOW: Fibber and Molly return in a moment. Men may be better at arithmetic than women, but when it comes to getting the most for their money, my hat is off to the women. Now, take an everyday food item like milk. No milk you can buy gives you more for your money than PET Evaporated Milk. And women are smart enough to know it. That's why in grocery stores you'll see women reaching for PET Milk several cans at a time. It isn't just the price, although PET Milk does cost less generally than any other form of milk. It's what you get for that money. Sweet country milk concentrated to double richness; that's PET Milk. So rich you can mix it with an equal amount of water and still have milk that's richer than the usual bottled kind. So rich you can use this milk instead of cream for coffee. How's your supply of PET Milk? If you're down to that last can, better pick up some at your grocer's tomorrow.


MUSIC: BRIDGE


MOLLY: Say, dearie, uh, save the stamp off of that government envelope. Willie Toops collects those.


FIBBER: Oh, there wasn't any stamp on it, kiddo. Our congressman just wrote his name across it. Honorable Charles J. Weenie. ...


MOLLY: Charles J. Weenie?


FIBBER: Yeah. They call that franking the envelope.


MOLLY: Oh. ...


FIBBER: Yeah. Good night.


MOLLY: Good night, all.


(APPLAUSE)


MUSIC: TAG ... THEN THEME IN BG 


HARLOW: The first evaporated milk, PET Milk, brings you Fibber McGee and Molly each week at this time. Be with us again next Tuesday night, won't you?


MUSIC: THEME FADES OUT


HARLOW: What would you do if your husband were about to lose a friend because of you? Well, that's not a happy state of affairs as young wife Sally Carter discovers when she tries to save the friendship in the Story of the Week on Pet Milk's MARY LEE TAYLOR PROGRAM next Saturday morning. In addition to this dramatic story, you will hear Mary Lee Taylor's husband-tested recipe for pork ghoulash, a delicious and thrifty one-dish dinner. For good listening next Saturday morning and every Saturday morning, turn your dial to NBC for Pet Milk's MARY LEE TAYLOR.


MUSIC: THEME ... THEN IN BG 


(APPLAUSE)


MUSIC: ABRUPTLY OUT


NBC ANNCR: Steve Wilson combats crime in BIG TOWN next over most NBC stations.


MUSIC: NBC CHIMES


Comments