 that our Miss Brooks has been teaching English at Madison High School. She has established some mighty fine relationships, not only with her fellow teachers, but in the outside world as well. No better example is my relationship with Mrs. Margaret Davis, my landlady. And the reason we get along so well is because we cooperate so thoroughly. For instance, when I have a problem, I don't hesitate a minute. I bring it right to Mrs. Davis. And whenever she has a problem, she keeps it to herself. However, last Thursday morning at breakfast, I could tell something was bothering her. I know something's troubling you, Mrs. Davis, won't you tell me what it is? It's nothing, Connie. Here's your coffee, dear. Thanks. You know you'll feel better if you get whatever's annoying you off your chest. I told you, Connie, it's nothing. Now drink your coffee and stop worrying. All right. If you say it's nothing, I guess it's nothing. I may lose this house in a few days. Now that's what I call a very high class nothing. Did you say you might lose this house? Yes. There's a payment due on the mortgage, and I just don't have the money. But that's happened before. Well, I remember in 1953, I owed you six weeks back rent. Of course, things were a lot tougher then. I know. You only owe me five weeks rent now. Not that that would solve it. You see, in the past, when an installment came due, Mr. Humphries always handled the matter personally. He was the manager of the Broadview Realty Company. Isn't Mr. Humphries in charge now? No, he isn't. You see, he was always most lenient with me. In fact, many of the time, he just right paid on my account months before I got the money together. Now, Mr. Humphries has been transferred. Where to, Alcatraz? I know I shouldn't kid when you're so worried, Mrs. Davis, but it is a coincidence. You're mentioning real estate trouble this morning. Madison High School's been having its own property problem. What kind of a problem, Connie? Well, you know the three acres that have joined the school grounds. Mr. Conklin's been trying to buy them so we can build a more suitable athletic field. But so far, the old skin-flint who owns the land won't sell. It makes me furious. You? But since when have you been so interested in athletics? Since I found out that one of the acres won't be used for the field, but could be used for picnics and strolls during lunch hour, through beautiful trees and shrubs with a certain beautiful biology teacher named Philip Boynton. It's a woodland paradise. But I've seen that property, Connie. Why, once you get into the trees, the shrubbery's so thick you can't stroll six feet. That's what I say. It's a woodland paradise. Well, I'd better get ready for school. Walter Denton's picking me up any minute. Now, don't you worry too much about the installment on your mortgage. Maybe the man who replaces Mr. Humphries at the Realty Company will be even more patient than he was. Oh, I'm not going to brood about it, Connie. After all, life is short, and so am I, I always say. Is that what you always say? I used to always say that, too, but I outgrew it when I was 12. That looks very good this morning, Walter. Has something new been added? It's just you, old exquisite educator. But I've got more important things in this jalopy on my mind. Problems? Not exactly, but I've been very concerned about the attitude of a certain Mr. Travis. Mr. Travis? Yeah, he's the miserly millionaire who owns the property next to school. Every time Mr. Conklin makes him an offer, he sits tight on a big fat swivel chair and says nothing doing. I take it you're hoping we get the property so we can build a bigger athletic field. Sure. The one we've got now is woefully inadequate. Take our football gridiron, for instance. Did you know that we played our entire schedule this past season on the field? It was 15 yards narrower than a regulation field? Really? I never noticed it. That's because we had a very thin backfield. I've got another more personal reason for wanting Madison to annex that land, Miss Brooks. You see, one of the acres isn't going to be used at all, and it's a woodland paradise. An ideal spot for picnics and strolls during lunch hour with my lovely Harriet. But, Walter, once you get into those trees, the shrubbery's so thick you can't stroll six feet. That's what I say. It's a woodland paradise. It's a feeling I've been all through this. But I'm rooting for the annexation too, Walter. Maybe Mr. Travis will relent and sell it to us. Maybe, but don't bet your new mink coat on it. My new mink coat? Well, the one you've got on. That's what it is, isn't it? Not exactly, Walter. It's mink-dyed ray arm. Oh, I've got to stop at Carney's garage this morning, Miss Brooks. Do you mind walking the remaining six blocks? Oh, not at all, Walter. It'll be good for me. Keep me nice and trim. Yeah. Nothing like walking to whack off the old blubber. Look, Daddy, do you think Mr. Travis will sell Madison the adjoining property? I'm afraid not, Harriet. It makes me very sad. You see, one of the acres wouldn't be needed for the athletic field, and it's a woodland paradise. Well, you could send your boyfriend, Walter, to Denton into those trees during lunch hour to pick you some flowers. But, Daddy, once you get into the trees, the shrubbery's so thick you can't walk six feet. Walter might trip and break a leg. And that's what I say. It's a woodland paradise. Of course, we might get the property if we could force Travis into selling. Force him into selling? Why, Harriet, wherever do you get such ideas? But, Daddy, you tell him. However, it might be the only way. But how do we force him? Of course, if someone were to threaten to sue Mr. Travis because of an injury incurred on his property, that might do it. An injury incurred on Mr. Travis' property? But, child, your thoughts are positively diabolical. But it may be the solution. An injury and a threatened suit. Yes, the more I think about it, the better I like it. Goodness knows it could happen easily enough. The fence around his land is strewn all over the sidewalk. A person could sustain a fine accidental injury there. But how, Daddy? How do I usually sustain my accidental injury? Simply my dear, Miss Brooks drops a typewriter on my foot. Miss Brooks closes a door on my hand. Or Miss Brooks sweeps my glasses to the floor with a pointer. You mean you're going to walk past Mr. Travis' place with Miss Brooks and just let nature take its course? And not exactly, Harriet. We're going to reverse our usual roles. This time I'm casting Miss Brooks as the Damagee. One moment, Miss Brooks, mind if I walk the rest of the way to school with you? Oh, not at all, Mr. Conklin. By the way, isn't this where Mr. Travis' property begins? Yes, it is, Miss Brooks. Why he's making it so tough for us to purchase it is beyond me. Look at the appearance of this lot, full of weeds and broken fence posts. He obviously doesn't care about doing anything with it himself. Perhaps he's keeping it for a burial plot. Three acres? Maybe he's the restless tide. He's a selfish old villain, that's what he is. And a negligent one, too. Why, if someone were to trip over one of these broken fence posts, he could sue Travis for everything he's got. Here, I'd better take your arm, Miss Brooks. Oh, that's all right, Mr. Conklin. I almost tripped. You didn't even see that dangerous post, did you? No, sir, not until you kicked it in front of my feet. We've got to be more careful. This place could be developed, though. Look up there at those trees, Miss Brooks. The trees? Yes, look at the tops of them, how gently they wave in the breeze. Yes, they're very pretty. Oh! Miss Brooks, you stumbled right over this fence post. Oh, you poor creature. I'm all right, Mr. Conklin. I'll just get up. Don't move. Don't move. You must have sprained your ankle. We'll sue Travis for plenty. But nothing hurts me, Mr. Conklin. Nonsense. Some injuries take hours before they give pay. Oh, let me see your foot. Just as I suspected. You've fallen up to three times its normal size, and it's stiff as a board. You're feeling the fence post, sir. Oh, here's your ankle. Now, does it hurt when I press here? And no. How about here? No, sir. How does it feel when I give it just this little twist? Oh! I knew it. I knew it. You can't walk at all. You can't even stand up, can you, Miss Brooks? Not with your foot on my calf, I can. And now, please, Mr. Conklin, I'm perfectly all right. Miss Brooks, are you hurt? I saw you fall from across the street. Oh, I'm glad you did, Boyden. Although Miss Brooks says she hasn't anything. Oh, my leg. What pain. What an injury. What a switch. Here, Miss Brooks, let me assist you. I'll just put my arm around you. Now, there. How's that? Fine. What have you got in mind for the other arm? Well, I'm glad you saw Miss Brooks incur this injury, Mr. Boyden. With two witnesses, Travis won't dare stand the suit. Now, here, let me help you up, Miss Brooks. Here we are. Thank you, sir. Oh, it was nothing, really. You can say that again. What you helped me up was really nothing compared to the way you helped me down. Mr. Conklin insisted that I go right home and get in bed. He also insisted on calling Mr. Travis to tell him that I was bringing suit against him. At noon, I was lying down on the couch in the living room when Mrs. Davis came in. Just what happened, Connie? Well, frankly, Mrs. Davis, the whole thing was planned by Mr. Conklin. You see, he thinks that if Mr. Travis is sued for damages, it'll be easier to buy his property from him. Well, I hope it works, Connie. I've never met the man, but from what I hear, he's something of an ogre. Well, ogre is, as ogre does. But there's no sense in my lying here like an invalid when I feel perfectly all right. I think I'll go out and stroll around the backyard. Oh, I'll answer it. You stay right on that couch, Connie. The rest will do you good. Why, it's Mr. Boyden. Come on in. Well, thanks, Mrs. Davis. How's our patient coming along? Oh, just fine. She says she hasn't any pain at all. Who is it, Mrs. Davis? It's Mr. Boyden. Oh, my ankle. Well, Mrs. Davis, I thought you said she didn't have any pain, but she's still complaining about her ankle. She must have twisted it harder than she meant to. Go on in. I was just leaving. I've got to get down to the Broadview Realty Company. Goodbye, Mrs. Davis. Oh, hello, Mr. Boyden. Oh, oh, I know this was all a plot of Mr. Conklin, but you must have really hurt yourself in that fall, Miss Brooks. You look very uncomfortable lying on that couch. I am. I'm miserable. Well, here, let me change your position a bit. Just put your arms around my neck. All righty. There. Now we'll just lift you a little higher against this pillow. That's better. It's perfect. Miss Brooks. I've never been this comfortable. Well, I'm glad. Miss Brooks. I've been comfortable before, I mean, but never this comfortable. Miss Brooks. What are you chattering about, Mr. Boyden? Would you mind taking your arms from around my neck? Oh, I thought they felt full. Mr. Boyden. Yes, Miss Brooks. I'm uncomfortable again. Want to get up a little higher? Higher, lower. Stick out your neck. Are you all ready, Miss Brooks? I was born ready. I can't help wondering, Mr. Boyden. Wondering what? What it's going to be like to go through life with a sprained ankle. Oh, it isn't really sprained, Miss Brooks, but you've got to act as if it is anyway. That's one of the reasons I came over here during lunch period, to tell you that Mr. Conklin has arranged for Mr. Travis to come and visit you this afternoon. Visit me? Yes. When Mr. Conklin told him you were going to sue him, he insisted on seeing you personally. Of course, I'm not much of a boy for this sort of chicanery. But as Mr. Conklin explained it, it does seem to be for the good of the school. Oh, I'm sure it is. There's another reason I hope we get the lot, Miss Brooks. A much more personal reason. Yes, Mr. Boyden? One of the acres is a woodland paradise. An ideal place for a stroll during lunch hour. But Mr. Boyden, once you get into the trees, the shrubbery's so thick you can't walk six feet. Who cares? Can you imagine the frogs I'll find in there? Hey, it's a woodland nothing. I'm Mrs. Davis. I had an appointment to see about extending the time on my mortgage payment. Of course, Mr. Humphries usually took care of me. And Mr. Humphries took care of a lot of people. But as the new owner of the Broadview Realty Company, I've decided to handle all mortgages myself. In nothing like the personal touch, don't you think? Yes, indeed. But about my payment... I'm sure we'll be able to work something out. You'll find me a very easy man to do business with, Mrs. Davis. In fact, just last month I had occasion to deal with another lady customer of ours, sweetest little person you ever saw, 80 years old if she was a day. Poor thing was three days behind on her mortgage and seemed worried sick about it. Of course, the minute she called me up, I went right over to see her. Did you put her mind at ease? In a manner of speaking, I drew up a chair right beside her and we had a nice long chat. Right there on the sidewalk. Her furniture was already on the sidewalk. Yes, but it didn't stay there long. By the end of the day, I'd helped her sell every stick of it. But the little old lady, where is she now? She gets out tomorrow. I thought it best to have her put away for 30 days. After all, I couldn't live with myself if I thought of that sweet old soul having no roof over her head. I guess I'm just an old softy. I'm sure you are. But somehow I can't help wishing Mr. Humphries was still here. Fine, fellow Humphries. Now, if you just leave the money you owe in a neat pile on this desk, you can run along. But that's what I want to talk to you about, Mr. ... Mr. ... Travis. R.J. Travis. Travis. You've heard of me? Yes, I have, Mr. Ogre. Now, if you don't have the money for your payment, I don't want you to fret about it. I want you to know that you don't have to pay me until later. Oh, that's wonderful, Mr. Travis. How much later? Well, let's see. It's now 2.15. Shall we say 3.30? 3.30. But I can't get the money by 3.30. Well, perhaps we can extend it beyond that. It all depends on the humor I'm in when I return from an errand of mercy upon which I am about to embark. An errand of mercy? Yes, I've got to go out and see some idiotic schoolteacher who claims she broke her foolish leg on a piece of my property. She says she's going to sue me. Oh, no. Now, I'm driving over there right away. Is there someplace you'd like me to drop you? No, thank you. I'll take the bus home. It's much slower. Well, it may be all right to threaten to sue someone for an alleged injury, but not when that someone happens to hold a mortgage on your landlady's home, and particularly not when a payment is due on that mortgage. Unfortunately, Miss Brooks is not aware that the someone in both cases is named R.J. Travis, whom she's expecting at her house momentarily. Now, Mr. Travis should be here any minute now, Miss Brooks. I'm sure your appearance will convince him that you're in pretty bad shape. Thanks, a million. I mean the way I've taped up your ankle. Oh. And not only will it impress Mr. Travis, but the support should do the ankle itself a lot of good. It certainly should. There's only one thing wrong. What's that? You've taped up the wrong ankle. Miss Brooks, why didn't you say something? Oh, come now. I'm sure Mr. Travis will never know the difference. Oh, there he is. You stay right here on the couch, Miss Brooks. I'll let him in. Oh, Mr. Conklin, come in. Is Travis here yet, Boynton? Oh, no, sir, not yet. Oh. It's all right, Miss Brooks. It's only Mr. Conklin. Oh. That's right. Get a good rehearsal under your belt, Miss Brooks. We've got to frighten Travis into selling that property. I'll get it. And Miss Brooks starts suffering. Oh, come in, Mr. Travis. We've been expecting you. What are you doing here, Conklin? And where else should a principal be but at the side of his favorite teacher in her hour of need? And where is this great favorite at the moment? No! There she is. Really? I thought he was a coyote. There she is, Travis. An unfortunate soul struck down in the prime of her life, a victim of your negligence. One moment a happy care every person, the next a human catapult, hurled toward the ground with such cataclysmic force that a more catastrophic result was only averted by a miracle. Yeah. Can you tell me what happened in her old words? I took a brody. It happened on your property, Mr. Travis. Who are you? He's Mr. Boynton, a biology teacher at Madison and Miss Brooks' star witness in her impending suit against you. Isn't he sweet, Mr. Travis? He's a delight. Now, let's get this nonsense about a suit over right now. I refuse to accept any responsibility for this alleged accident. A led accident? Why, you have to take one look at this poor woman to see what a gibbering wreck she's become. I admit she's no oil painting. But for all I know, her face is always twisted into those ugly contortions. Only when I smile. Now then, let's get down to cases. Miss Brooks is going to sue you for $5,000. $5,000? Oh, look, we're all sensible people here. Let's discuss this thing. Hiya. I'm sure we can come to some equitable settlement. Mr. Travis, are you trying to bribe us? Are you attempting to buy our free people of our stature in this community by offering to sell your lot next to Madison High in exchange for our dropping the suit? Is that the bribe you have in mind? Certainly not. Then you haven't hit on the right bribe. Oh, look, gentlemen, these legal matters are very distressing to me. If you'll excuse me, I'll go make us some tea. Yes, do that. Hop up and make us some tea, Miss Brooks. Well, I may not hop, but if you'll hand me that cane, Mr. Conklin, I'll try and drag myself to the kettle. Here, I'd better stand in back of you in case you fall. No, stand in front of me, Mr. Boyden. In front of you? It's more fun that way. Easy, easy now, Miss Brooks. Let's see if you can walk. It's all right as long as I don't let my bad foot touch the floor. Connie, what are you doing up? Oh, oh, hello, Mr. Travis. Hello, Mrs. Davis. Mrs. Davis, do you know Mr. Travis? We met today, Connie. Mr. Travis owns the company which holds the mortgage on this house. Like I say, I'll just hop out and make us some tea. Miss Brooks, hop. Now, walk back here, young woman. Yes, limp back here, young woman. I'm afraid that won't work, Miss Brooks. You haven't the trace of a limp. Isn't it amazing? For years, doctors have marveled at how quickly I recuperate. This suit was all a fake, engineered by you, Conklin. But, Mr. Travis, dear Mr. Travis... For your information, dear Mr. Conklin, I have a meeting scheduled with the Board of Education tomorrow. At which time I was prepared to sell the property adjoining Medicine High. However, thanks to your ridiculous scheming, such a sale is now out of the question. Mr. Conklin, are you all right? I just slipped. Why, Mrs. Davis keeps these scatter-ugged tears beyond me. Oh, my ankle. I think I've sprained it. Well, that's the luckiest thing that could have happened to you, Mr. Conklin. Lucky? Certainly. You've already got three witnesses. Now, all we have to do is get a good lawyer, and we can sue Mrs. Davis for the house she's about to lose. Part of our show, Eve Orton. Well, Mr. Conklin got over his sprained ankle, but he still gets a terrible headache whenever he walks by that woodland paradise. It's written by Arthur Olesburg and Al Lewis with the music of Lud Bluskin. Mr. Conklin was played by Gail Gordon. Others in tonight's cast were Jane Morgan, Dick Crenna, Bob Rockwell, Gloria McMillan, and Frank Nelson. Station, Eve Orton in the role of Madison High School's favorite English teacher, Miss Brooks, will again call the student body together. Don't you be absent. Our Miss Brooks is presented each week through the worldwide facilities of the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.