 And now, our Miss Brooks, starring Eve Arden. When a girl like our Miss Brooks has gone with a fellow like Philip Boynton for a number of years, occasionally an argument is to be expected. But a couple of days ago, they had their worst argument so far. And Miss Brooks told him she'd never speak to him again as long as she lived. And I meant it, too. Even if I have to spend the rest of my life communicating with him in sign language. The bone of contention this time was Mr. Boynton's mother, a gentle but possessive woman whose slogan in life seems to be always a mother but never a mother-in-law. I'm sure that she would gladly give her son in marriage if there was some way she could do it without losing permanent custody. Anyway, last Tuesday, with his mother scheduled to arrive in town for a visit, Mr. Boynton proceeded to cancel his dates with me for the next two weeks. And I proceeded to cancel my relationship with Mr. Boynton. For two days, my landlady could sense how depressed I felt. And Thursday morning at breakfast, she made a brave effort to cheer me up. Connie, I heard the funniest story yesterday. Lydia Guilfoyle told it over the phone. Honestly, it's a screen. Want to hear it, dear? No. Well, it seems two old gossips were talking about a young couple who had just been married. And one of these old gossips said, I saw Mr. Jones sneaking into his house at two o'clock this morning. Well... Well what? My, you have lost your sense of humor. Either that or you've lost the joke. And that's the end of the story? It was as far as I was concerned. I had to answer the doorbell at that point. Now, didn't you ask Mrs. Guilfoyle to tell you the rest of it? I would have, dear, but I haven't the faintest idea who she is. And how did you begin speaking to her? Oh, I wasn't speaking to her. I was listening. You see, Mrs. Guilfoyle was speaking to Mrs. Henderson, the lady on our party line. But Mrs. Davis, why were you listening? Well, I had nothing else to do while Mrs. Graham was having lunch. Mrs. Graham? That's the other lady on our party line. She's good for three hours of juicy listening every day. At the moment, she's about to have an operation. But now, dear, that you're feeling a little better. Don't you want to let me hear about your problem? I'd love to, Mrs. Davis, but there's no one I can tell it to so you can listen. That is, it's really nothing you can help me with. Well, all right, dear. If you don't choose to discuss it with me, you know I'm never the one to pry. Well, thanks, Mrs. Davis. Actually, it only takes one person to handle my problem. Just as you say. But personally, I think it was all wrong of Mr. Boynton to break all his dates with you just because his mother is in town. And I think you're absolutely right to tell him you're never going to speak to him again. And I'm glad you're the one person handling my problem. Mrs. Davis, how did you find out about it? To be truthful, Connie, when Mr. Boynton called you at 10.33 last night to patch things up, I just happened to be dusting the receiver of our extension telephone. You must have been dusting it with your left ear. Mrs. Davis, I'm surprised that you would... Oh, excuse me, dear. Hello. Yes, this is Margaret Davis. What? You didn't. Oh, no. Well, maybe there's something you can... Hello? Hello? Hello? Oh, Connie, it's terrible. Simply terrible. Disaster has finally struck. Disaster? Well, what is it, Mrs. Davis? What happened? The telephone company has taken away our party line. They've given us a private line. Well, I'll contact the Red Cross at once, and the phone company has taken away our party line. Is that all? But Mrs. Davis, you filed an application for a private line years ago. Yes, I know, dear, but that was before I'd grown so attached to the Henderson's and the Graham's. Well, Connie, Mrs. Henderson is supposed to have her baby almost any time. Now I'll never know if it's a boy or a girl. What will happen with poor Mrs. Graham's operation? Listen to your radio tomorrow to old Dr. Gillespie. But, Connie, you broke the radio last October. I did? Don't you remember? You were listening to the whistler, and you tuned it up so loud he whistled out all the tunes. And you're such a wonderful set. Yes, 1931 was a good year for radio. Connie, I hate to say this, but you'll simply have to buy me a new radio now. The midget set costs only $20. Which sounds like a million to my midget salary. Well, I've got to leave for school now, Mrs. Davis. Walter isn't driving me today. But don't worry, I'll think up some solution to your problem before the day is over. But, Connie, without a telephone or a radio to listen to, what will I do all day? Well, it's 8.30 now. In about five minutes, Mrs. Mason and Mrs. Parker will begin gossiping over the backyard fence. Connie, you know I don't like to eavesdrop on anybody but strangers. Well then, Mrs. Davis, let us say, until the phone company gives you back your party line, you're just keeping in practice. Oh, Mrs. Brooks. Mr. Boyden, I said I'd never speak to you again as long as I live, and I meant every year of it. So if you have the vaguest notion that you can persuade me to change my mind by lying and wait for me in school corridors, just give up before you start because you're never going to hear another word out of me. Mrs. Brooks, I only... Please have the good manners to listen to me when I'm not speaking to you. I know exactly what you're going to say, and I understand fully that strange infantile attachment you have for your mother and that I can't ever break it, so let's just continue to pass each other by when we meet just as we're doing now. Mrs. Brooks, the only reason I stopped you was to tell you that your purse is open. Huh? Well, I'll just leave it open until somebody I'm speaking to tells me about it. Well, suit yourself. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be getting to class. He's still so beautiful. Oh, Mrs. Brooks. It's no use trying to talk to me, Mr. Boyden, so you might as... Oh, it's Mr. Conklin. It took you two guesses, but you made it. Are you in the habit of strolling through the corridor with your purse looking like it's begging for bread? My purse? Oh, we're on speaking terms, so I can close it now. Good. You've made me a happy man. Now, if you'll follow me into my office for a minute, please, I have something to ask you. Yes, sir. Now, I'll come right to the point, Mrs. Brooks. Disaster struck my dear wife at 8.23 this morning. Oh, how terrible. What happened? They took out her party line. Apparently, the whole neighborhood is having its party lines removed and private ones installed. Mrs. Davis suffered the same loss today. My wife is driving me insane. All morning, since she received the terrible news, she's been in a state of shock. Shall I tell you how this dread disease got its first hold on my wife, Mrs. Brooks? She probably picked up the receiver to dust it one day, and 20 minutes later, she was hooked. Precisely. How did you know? I happened to have a land lady with a larger cauliflower on her listening ear than Rocky Marciano. It's practically an addiction with Mrs. Davis. Addiction? That's just the word. How I pleaded with Mrs. Conklin to give up the habit. Tape her off. It turned into a normal life of private telephones, but no, it was too late. Telephone night has set in. Many is the long night I sat alone at the dinner table as she crouched in the corner of the room over the telephone, living in her fool's paradise of borrowed conversation. Poor Mr. Conklin. Poor, poor Mr. Conklin. I pleaded with her, begged her, and one night when I lost my temper and threatened her, she hit the earpiece like a drunken sailor and went on a wild listening binge that lasted until dawn. Poor, poor, poor Mr. Conklin. What happened then? Then one night I decided to cut her off abruptly, so I hid the phone in the chandelier. She found it immediately. I kept hiding it, she kept finding it until one day I decided to let the phone hang out of our second floor window. Well, that should have cured her. That same night after dinner the phone rang suddenly and for the next two hours I had to hold my poor wife by the ankle that she listened in. Oh, Miss Brooks, you've got to help me. Do you hear you've got to? Please, Mr. Conklin, get a hold on yourself. I'll be over tonight, I promise you. And if the phone rings, I'll spell you for a while on Mrs. Conklin's ankles. Oh, well, there's no need for that anymore, Miss Brooks. Since we have a private line now, I've hauled the phone back in. But we must do something, Miss Brooks. Well, I had planned to run down to the phone company during my lunch hour today and ask them to restore Mrs. Davis' party line. I could ask them to restore your wife's too. Oh, would you, Miss Brooks? Oh, thank you, thank you so much. Mr. Conklin, you can start chalking up your hands. Tonight Mrs. Conklin hangs by the heels again. Well, it wasn't bad enough that I had my problems with Mr. Boynton. But now I had the additional worry of getting their party lines restored to Mrs. Davis and Mrs. Conklin so they could go back to their normal, everyday, rubber-eared existence. Just before lunch, I was looking for Walter Denton to drive me down to the phone company when I rounded the corridor and literally ran into Harriet Conklin and her supercharged boyfriend. Oops. Oh, pardon me, Miss Brooks. It was my fault for running into you, Harriet. And excuse me, Walter, for knocking Harriet into you. I'll be my guest, dear teacher, as often as you like. And you can do the same for Mr. Boynton and me some... I'm glad I found you, Walter. I wonder if you could drive me someplace during the next hour. You see, I... Well, we'd like to, Miss Brooks, but right now we're in a terrible rush. Yeah, during my lunch hour, we've got to visit Mrs. Potter, Mrs. Grunyan and Mrs. Carrollay for my mother. Well, who are they, Walter? The women on her party line. Disaster struck our house at 8.31 this morning. The phone company gave us a private line. Now I'm Mom's only contact with the outside world. And she wants you to find out about those three women. Yeah, that's right. They're all in the north side of town. She's got my father working on the south side. And what's your mother doing? Oh, she's staying home so the other women can find out about her. The phone company might not know it, but they've got a bigger thing here than Scrabble. How can you contact all three women and be back in an hour? Well, I've got a regular schedule worked out, Miss Brooks. 12.15, we're due at the Potter's to find out if their unmarried daughter, Sally, is getting a second date with that Peoria Pickle salesman. And that should take five minutes, so we should be leaving there at 12.30, and then we'll... Whoa, wait a minute. If you arrive at Mrs. Potter's at 12.15 and you're only taking five minutes to inquire about her daughter, what's the other ten minutes for? Well, that's to give Mrs. Potter time to pump me about my mother's lumbago and sciatica. At 12.30, we stop off at the Grunyans to find out if Mrs. Grunyans' brother-in-law, Herman, is coming to live with them. He's rich and handsome, but Mrs. Grunyans hates him. Well, in that case, have her contact me. I'd be glad to... I think I understand how the schedule works. But if you'll drive me to where I'm going, I believe I can save you both a lot of trouble. Well, where are you going, Miss Brooks? To the phone company's nearest office, Harriet. I'm going to try to get party lines reinstalled for your mother and Mrs. Davis. And while I'm at it, I might as well get back Mrs. Denton's line, too. Oh, gosh. That'd be swell, Miss Brooks. Do you think you can swing it? I certainly hope so. And while I'm at their office, I think I'll also suggest that they change the name Party Line to something more in keeping with the way your mothers have been using it. What do you mean, Miss Brooks? To them, it isn't the party. It's a ball. In our then, Miss Brooks, what can the telephone company do for you? Mr. Horton, this morning at 8.23, 8.28 and 8.31 a.m., disaster struck. Good heavens, what happened? Three innocent women lost their Party Lines. In what hospital? Lost their Party Lines? In broad daylight. And I think it's disgraceful, depriving American citizens of their inalienable right to snitch an earful of dirt when the mood seizes them. Miss Brooks, if I understand you correctly, several of your Lady Friends have been switched from Party Lines to Private Lines. Is that right? Exactly what I say, sir. Is that right? All Mrs. Henderson wants is one boy, Mr. Horton, one baby boy. And I think that depriving Mrs. Davis of her Party Line at this critical... Just a minute, Miss Brooks. You meant Mrs. Henderson, didn't you? No, Mrs. Davis. Does she want a boy too? Only if he's over 60. She hasn't got a husband. Well, I'm sorry, Miss Brooks, but that is one service the telephone company does not supply. You don't understand, Mr. Horton. Right now, at this very moment, poor Mrs. Conklin sits and broods because Mrs. Hergishimer may decide not to take up the Tuba. Mrs. Conklin? Is that the one whose husband threatened to leave because his wife had her nose fixed? No, no. Mrs. Murdock is the woman with the nose. Mrs. Denton, on the other hand, has lost three pounds in the last day just worrying over Sally Potter and her pickled boyfriend. That is her Peoria boyfriend who sells pickles. I understand. This Mrs. Potter is one of the ladies who wants her Party Line back? No, now you're thinking of Mrs. Denton. She's the Tuba. That's Mrs. Hergishimer. And who's Mrs. Denton? Walter's mother. And who's Walter? A student at Madison High and don't hold your breath until he passes English. And who's English? Oh, that's a course. Now where was I? Between the Tuba and the nose. Well, it's really quite simple, Mr. Horton. Just get Mrs. Davis back on the same line with Mrs. Henderson and Mrs. Graham. She's the one who's having the operation. Mrs. Davis? No, Mrs. Graham. Well, anyway, I do hope the Conklins have a baby boy this time. Or was that the Potters? The Henderson's. We've got to get back to Madison High now, Mr. Horton. So please remember, Mrs. Conklin gets Mrs. Hergishimer and Mrs. Murdock on her line. Murdock, that's the nose. Like a ski slide. And Mrs. Denton gets Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Grunyan. He's the Pickle. Peoria. Now, have you got it all straight? Absolutely. And don't worry about a thing. I'll order all those Party Lines back by seven tonight. Thank you so much, Mr. Horton. And please don't forget those names. Don't worry, I won't. I never forget a name. Goodbye, Mr. Horton. Goodbye, Mrs. Hergishimer. Don't be so impatient, Mrs. Davis. In a few minutes, it will be seven o'clock and you'll have your old Party Line back. I hope so, Connie. I'm dying to know if Mrs. Henderson is going to have a boy. Pray for a boy, Connie. That's what I've been doing ever since I was 22. And certainly I'm praying for the Mrs. Davis. Oh, I'll take it, Connie. Hello? Mr. Henderson? What? Oh. Quick, is it a boy or a girl? It's a boy, Connie. Mr. Boynton, here. Tell him I'm not speaking to him. She says she's not speaking to you, Mr. Boynton. What? Well, I'll ask her. What does he want? He says, won't you please tell him you're not speaking to him yourself? Since you've been doing it all day. Now, let me have the phone. Now, see here, Mr. Boynton. Miss Brooks, please don't hang up. I must speak to you. Then kindly make it as short as possible. That's what you have to say within a half hour, and then hang up. Excuse me a moment, please. Mrs. Davis, if you don't mind, this is personal. No, I don't mind at all, dear. Just keep talking. You want me to leave the room. Just for a minute. Thanks, Mrs. Davis. Now, Mr. Boynton, I made it quite clear to you earlier today that I never wanted to speak to you again. Okay, I'll hang up. Don't you dare. At least not until I'm through talking to you. Believe me, Mr. Boynton, it's not that I dislike your mother. It's just that, well, at times, she can be quite narrow-minded. Miss Brooks, I invited mother to come with us to the movies tonight, but she insisted I take you alone. As I was saying, our argument had nothing to do with your broad-minded mother. Did you say the movies tonight, Mr. Boynton? Yes, they're showing Humphrey Bogart and beat the devil. And there's a delightful short with it and an apple for the teacher. It's all about the life of the apple from the time it's grown in the state of Washington until it arrives in the teacher's hands. I thought it was about cheering sheep in Australia. I'll be glad to go with you, Mr. Boynton. Gosh, that's swell, Miss Brooks. And I might add it's nice talking to you again. I'm awfully glad you decided to call. Well, mother said I should, and I did. Mother said? She says I'm in the right, but that I should humor you because you're a woman. You spotted me from the first day. Mr. Boynton, if you're calling because your precious mother told you to, as far as I'm concerned, we're not speaking again. Is that the way you wanted, Miss Brooks? That's exactly the way I wanted. Oh, no, she doesn't, Mr. Boynton, you know that. Mr. Boynton, I'll thank you not to change your voice when you're talking to me. I didn't change my voice, Miss Brooks. You most certainly did. Oh, no, I didn't. Oh, yes, you did. Oh, no, he didn't. Oh, yes, he. Walter Denton. Present, Miss Brooks. Walter, how did you get on my line? Oh, I don't know. I just picked up my phone, and there you were. The phone company must have put us on Mrs. Davis' party line by mistake. Well, please hang up, Walter. I'm enjoying a private fight with Mr. Boynton. Oh, but I can't hang up, Miss Brooks. Can't? Why not? My mother won't let me. Get off this line, Denton, and be quick about it. Oh, stop brow-beating him, you bully. Yeah, leave the kid alone. Who did you call a bully, Miss Brooks? You. That's who I called a bully. Don't let a brow-beat you, Boynton. Sail into a void. Mr. Kotlin, is that you? No, Miss Brooks. This is a voice from outer space. Oh, I wish you'd push it back in. That is, how did you get on our line? Believe it or not, Miss Brooks, I am doing undercover espionage work for a hostile foreign planet. No matter in fact what are you doing on the school line? On the school line? Sir, do you mean that Miss Brooks' line is on Mrs. Denton's line and on the school line? Apparently it's on everything but the trolley line. Seems Miss Brooks went to the telephone company with the purpose of restoring my home party line and true to form in her own idiotically consistent fashion. She goofed. Exactly who are you calling an idiot, Mr. Kotlin? Temper girl, temper. Mr. Boynton, beware of temper in the normal human female. I married one with a violent disposition. I should know. You should know what, Osgood? Mother! Mr. Kotlin! Walter! Now that we've called the roll, the class will come to order. Miss Brooks? Yes, Mrs. Kotlin? Stick to your guns with Mr. Boynton. I had my share of mother-in-law trouble and I should know. Oh, you should. Perfectly well, if it hadn't been for my dear mother's interference on your behalf, you might still be Martha Flyshacker. I think that's one of the reasons I resent her. The reasons she resents her? Oh, that's a good one. Oh, hang up this instant. Okay, sir. Oh, I can't, Mr. Kotlin. My mother won't let me. I will. Then I'll hang up. I'll see you all tomorrow. I'd better have these party lines straightened out first thing in the morning. Oh, no, Miss Brooks. Mom says not to do a thing. This is the greatest party line she's been on since Mrs. Blake strangled her husband. Hello, Mrs. Denton? She never talks on party lines, Miss Brooks. She only listens. Well, good night all. I guess I'll hang up now, too, Miss Brooks. Mrs. Kotlin, I'm sorry I got you on our party line by mistake, but I'll have it corrected in the morning. You will do no such thing. I am simply delighted with things as they are. Well, nighty-night, dear. Nighty. You know, Miss Brooks, hearing the Kotlin squabble just now made me realize how childish we've been acting. Let's start speaking again, shall we? Whoever stopped. Well, I'm glad Mrs. Denton and Mrs. Kotlin liked their new party lines, but I'm afraid I'm going to have trouble with my landlady. Oh, you won't hear any complaints out of me, dear. Who's that? Welcome aboard, Mrs. Davis. I was just dusting the extension telephone. Really? When does it ever get a chance to collect dust? And you don't want to switch back to your old party line, either, Mrs. Davis. Oh, goodness, no, dear. With Mrs. Denton's lumbago, the Conklin's fights and your little spats with Mr. Boynton, I really hit the jackpot. Well, I'm afraid we're going to have to disappoint you, Mrs. Davis. From now on, Miss Brooks and I are through battling. Only married people, aren't you? Only married people? Well, that's the way I've heard it. Well, I don't know about you, Mr. Boynton, but I wouldn't want to disappoint Mrs. Davis for the world. Our Miss Brooks, starring Eve Arden, has been a presentation of the United States Armed Forces Radio Service.