 Now, Anasin, the tablet's thousands of physicians and dentists recommend for fast relief of pain of headache, neuritis, neuralgia, and Bicidal Mints, that quickly rid stomach of gastric distress, present Armist Brooks, starring Eve Arden. It's time once again for another comedy episode of Armist Brooks transcribed. But first, today many thousands of people are thankful to their physicians or dentists for first having introduced them to that remarkable preparation called Anasin, which brings such incredibly fast and effective relief from the pains of headaches, neuritis, and neuralgia. Anasin is like a doctor's prescription. That is, Anasin contains not just one, but a combination of medically proven active ingredients in easy-to-take tablet form. Thus, in using Anasin, you are following sound principles. So I'll ask for Anasin at your drug counter next time you suffer pains from headaches, neuritis, or neuralgia. Try these tablets on this guarantee. If you don't feel Anasin gives you all the relief you want as fast as you want it, your money will be refunded. Easy-to-take Anasin tablets are available everywhere in handy boxes of 12 and 30 and economical family size bottles of 50 and 100. I'll repeat the name for you, Anasin, A-N-A-C-I-N. From time to time, Armist Brooks, who teaches English at Madison High, has supplemented her meager bank account by writing articles for some of the country's leading publications. Yes, indeed. Last year alone, I cracked the hobo news, the Muscle Builder's Gazette, and the American Plumber's Quarterly. But of all my articles, I was proudest of the one which appeared last week in true family romances entitled, I am the mother of a quiz kid. Of course, I wrote this true family romance story under the assumed name of Dorothy Kimberly, and for three good reasons. One, the story was not true. Two, I don't have a family, and three, with Mr. Boynton for a boyfriend, I have very little romance. There was a fourth reason, too. If our beloved principal, Mr. Conklin, ever found my name in a magazine like that, I'm afraid mine would be just another friendly face on the unemployment line. By Thursday morning, my $50 check was long overdue from the magazine, so I thought I'd better ask my landlady if any mail had come for me that I didn't know about. Mrs. Davis. Connie, I brought home several wallpaper samples from the store. Which of these do you like best for the living room? Mrs. Davis, I expect a check. No, dear, a check design makes me dizzy. It might have come addressed to Dorothy Kimberly. Dorothy Kimberly? Nothing came for anyone by that name. But who's Dorothy Kimberly? That's me. Now sit right there, and I'll bring you a glass of water and some anison. Mrs. Davis, it's really very simple. In an article in the magazine, I'm Mrs. Kimberly. You see, I'm married. I mean, she's married. Oh, it's Connie Brooks. I'm not married, but it's Connie Kimberly. Dorothy Brooks, that is, in the article, we both are. Make that a glass of water and two anison. Poor Connie, you are confused, aren't you? Oh, no more than Dr. Jekyll confused Mr. Hyde. I'd better start at the beginning, Mrs. Davis. You remember that guest speaker I got last month, the author who lectured at school on the opportunities in the field of writing? Oh, yes. Wasn't he the nice man who came over for dinner afterward? And when he left, most of our silverware was missing. Oh, no. You're thinking of the fellow who lectured on the influence of crime shows on our children. Anyway, we recovered most of the stuff. But the writer I'm referring to mentioned that true family romances was paying $50 for stories concerning unusual family problems. Oh, I see. Well, I didn't tell you about it, Mrs. Davis, but that's when I became Dorothy Kimberly. That very day, I sat down and wrote an article entitled, I am the mother of a quiz kid. My, there are a lot of things you haven't told me about. How old is your little youngster? 65, and he's now leading a retired life in Hoboken, New Jersey. Mrs. Davis, I'm not really the mother of a quiz kid. Well, if you say so, dear. But I saw a copy of that magazine lying around a few days ago, and I read your story. You know, I enjoyed it almost as much as the one by Sarah Doolittle. Oh, yes. The one called Bringing Up My Dopey Son. Poor Sarah Doolittle. How she suffered. You should thank goodness, Connie, that your boy turned out so brilliant. Well, I had a very intelligent typewriter. Now, if you'll excuse me, Mrs. Davis, I'd better be leaving for school. Oh, I'll get it. Hello? Hello, this is Mr. Nemo, the editor of True Family Romances. Is Mrs. Dorothy Kimberly there? No, I'm afraid you have the wrong... Oh, yes, she's here. I mean, I'm here. We're here, all of us. I was expecting your check in the mail, Mr. Nemo. Are you certain you put a stamp on the envelope? That's precisely why I called, Mrs. Kimberly. You see, our magazine has instituted a new policy of checking on the facts in all our stories before making payments. Checking on the facts? While I'm in town, I'd like to have a little chat with you and that quiz kid son of yours. Also, with another one of our authors who lives in your vicinity, Sarah Doolittle. Now, what time would it be most convenient for me to drop around and see your son? In about 15 years. I'm afraid little Joel will be unavailable for interviews today, Mr. Nemo. He's busy writing a child's version of Einstein's theory of relativity. Now, why don't you drop back some other year? A time. Well, I'm sorry, Mrs. Kimberly. I'm going to be in town only one day, and unless I verify your story, there will be no payment. Like I say, Mr. Nemo, drop around any time tonight. Fine. I'll see you at 8 o'clock, Mrs. Kimberly. Goodbye. Goodbye. 50 bucks. Oh, Mrs. Davis, this is terrible. Goodness, Connie, are you in trouble? Is there anything I can do, dear? No, I'm afraid not, Mrs. Davis. No matter how we tried, I doubt if we could pass you off as a bright little boy. Put two days of hard work into that article about you and mother. And anyway, I wouldn't have sent it into true family romances without your permission. You had absolutely no right to tear it up. Oh, didn't I, though? Harriet, I will not have my daughter writing for a cheap, trashy fourth grade publication whose current cover features the spectacle of a husband clasping his wife to his bosom with one hand and brandishing a meat cleaver with the other. But Daddy, all the other kids were writing articles for the magazine about their parents. And that's exactly why a number of parents have been complaining to the head of the board about their lives being invaded and why Mr. Stone has been pointing the finger of unemployment at me. Well, it certainly isn't fair for Mr. Stone to blame you. Well, of course it isn't, particularly since your precious Miss Brooks brought that lecturer here in the first place. Oh, what did I do to deserve that woman? Some men occasionally get a view of heavenly paradise here on earth, but fate has sent me Miss Brooks to show me what it looks like elsewhere. Well, it actually isn't her fault either, Daddy. She only books the lecturers. Quiet, quiet. I think I see Miss Brooks clumping up the walk now. If you'll excuse me, Harriet. I want a word alone with Madison's crazy mixed-up lecture bureau kindly depart through my inner office, child. But Daddy, can't I just... Me and, uh, Minx. Well, Miss Brooks should be through the front doors by now. Now she should be walking toward this office. Come back here, Miss Brooks. Oh, yes, sir. Uh, it's a nice day, sir. I doubt it. With you so close, there must be a monsoon brewing in the vicinity. Miss Brooks, why is it everything you touch turns to ulcers? Why, sir, have I done something wrong? That's like asking, will dawn come up tomorrow. Miss Brooks, since you invited that madman here to encourage the literary efforts of our students last month, they have been besieging true family romances with a mountain of garbage. And Mr. Stone has placed the whole thing squarely on my doorstep. Well, I'll call the Department of Sanitation at once and have them take it away. Oh, you mean Mr. Stone has been complaining to you? Complaining? Why, yesterday, he couldn't have called me more often if we were sweethearts. He told me he put three students at Clay City High on probation and suspended a history teacher simply for contributing stories to that awful magazine. Can you imagine what he'd do if an article were published? Yes, I can, but it's too late for me to make the help-wanted page in today's paper. I believe I can. Needless to say, if another one of my students or any member of my faculty contributes to that publication, I will recommend immediate dismissal. You may go now, Miss Brooks. How far? Oh, yes. Oh, I almost forgot. One more thing before you leave. I've just finished my monthly report for Mr. Stone. Will you have any time to type it up for me during school hours? No, sir. I haven't got a minute today. I thought not. Therefore, I arrange to be at your house tonight at eight. You can type it then. At eight? Tonight? Oh, no, sir. Eight's a very bad time. I can't possibly make it at eight. I have an appointment with my optometrist about my eyes. Oh, you do love to put up a fight, don't you? Please, Mr. Conklin, make it earlier or later. Say ten o'clock. Can you come over then? House ten o'clock. I'll tell you what we'll do, Miss Brooks. I want to be at your house at eight. You want me to be there at ten, so we'll compromise. Oh, good, good. Compromise, that's it. Compromise, thank you, sir. I'll be there at eight-five. I'll be there at eight-five, Miss Brooks. Now, is there anything I can do for you before I come over? No, sir. Even if you shaved off your mustache and wore short pants, you wouldn't do either. Brands, if you suffer from acid indigestion, I hope you didn't miss reading this wonderful news. A headline that says, New mints medically proven quickly rid stomach of gastric distress. That headline is talking about new bisodol mints. Doctors recommend bisodol mints because the bisodol medication acts at once to make painful acid harmless and gives you fast five-way relief. One, speeds relief from gas. Two, sweetens your breath. Three, gives complete longer lasting relief than baking soda. Four, relieves stomach upset from too much eating, drinking, smoking. Five, lets you sleep when acid indigestion strikes at night. So don't suffer acid indigestion, heartburn, or gastric distress from excess acidity. Remember, new mints medically proven quickly rid stomach of gastric distress. And remember the name, bisodol mints. B-I-S-O-D-O-L. Get bisodol mints for fast relief. Well, Miss Brooks is in quite a dilemma. At 8 o'clock tonight, Mr. Nemo, editor of True Family Romances, is due over at her house to verify whether she really is the mother of a quiz kid. And five minutes later, Mr. Conklin is coming over with some typing work. Since the magazine has been declared out of bounds, if Mr. Nemo and Mr. Conklin cross paths tonight, Miss Brooks is in danger of suspension. And with Mr. Conklin, that could mean from a tree. Just before noon, Madison High's principal was busy at his desk when his phone rang. Hello, principal's office, the principal himself speaking. To speak quickly, please, I lunch in two minutes and I'm famished. Excuse me, sir, but am I speaking to a school? Don't be ridiculous, sir, you're speaking to a man. Oh, oh, oh, yes, yes, this is Madison High School. Who is this? My name is Mr. Nemo, Joshua Nemo. I'm from True Family Romances. I have a check for a Sarah Doolittle. Does she work at your school? Sarah Doolittle, excuse me a moment, please. Now then, I am Sarah Doolittle. I don't have time for joking. Oh, I'm not joking. Sarah Doolittle is the name I use on my articles. It's my wife's name. I'm Osgood Doolittle. Now, you may forward the $50 check for my current article. Just a moment, Mr. Doolittle. Because of a little difficulty we've had recently, our current policy is to withhold checks until after we've verified the facts in an article. Well, shall I drop over to your place, say at nine, to deliver your check and meet the lad? No, no, no, no, that'll be impossible, impossible. Maybe I could have him speak to you on the phone. Mr. Doolittle, I'm sorry, but that's the way it must be. No interviews, no $50 check. Oh, nine o'clock, eh? Yes, and please make sure Ronald is home. Never fear, he'll be home. If I have to look all over town to find him. Oh, Miss Brooks, you do have a problem, but try to forget it until after lunch. After all, that Paiala Mode cost you 25 cents. That looks awfully good, too. It did be a pity to waste it. Stop punching, Mr. Boynton, it's yours. Well, all right. Say, there is a way you could get rid of Mr. Nemo before Mr. Conklin arrives tonight. All you need to do is show him your young son. Mr. Boynton, if that's a proposal, you're a little late. Where could I pick up a 14-year-old quiz kid by eight o'clock? That's one thing Sherry's department store never runs a bargain sale on. Oh, it isn't as difficult as... Salutations to Madison's two most illustrious beacons of learning. One a gentle rose reaching up to the sun and the other a mighty tower of strength. I'll toss you for who's the rose, Mr. Boynton. Walter, we're rather preoccupied at the moment, so if you don't mind, I'd... Say, wait a minute, Miss Brooks. Walter might be just what you're looking for. Just what I'm... oh, yes. He might be at that. I think he might. Yeah, I'm sure I might. But what? Walter, how would you like to be my son? Your son? Well, it's okay with me, Miss Brooks, but I don't know how my parents are gonna take it. Oh, it's only for tonight, Walter, for a few minutes around eight o'clock. You see, under the name of Mrs. Dorothy Kimberley, I wrote an article for the true family romances called, I am the mother of a quiz kid. And now the editor's coming to verify my story before he'll pay me for the article. Oh, I get it. And you want me to play the quiz kid? Well, gosh, do you think anyone would ever believe it? He might, if he doesn't get a look at your marks. Well, all right, if it'll help you out, I'll do it. Oh, thanks, Walter. And one more thing, you know how Mr. Conklin feels about that magazine, so our little plan will have to be a secret between us. You're from now on, it's strictly in the family. Well, see you later at your house, Mom. Oh, gosh, the situations women get themselves into. Oh, me, a quiz kid. Oh, that's really one for the book. I was crouching behind that water cooler. I was behind the water cooler, wasn't I? Yes, sir. And the way you kept bobbing your head up and down, you looked like you were going down for the first time. To get away from that cackle I almost wish I had, but I happen to have a little favor to ask of you. A favor? Well, what kind of a favor, sir? Er, Denton, that is, Walter, how would you like to be my son? Holy cow, it's an epidemic. It's only for a short while, around nine this evening. I'm merely playing a little practical joke on a friend of mine, Mr. Nemo. You see, about a year ago I told him I had a dopey son. A dopey son? I can't think of anyone who'd fit the part more admirably. You will help me out, won't you? I'm sorry, Mr. Conklin, but I can't tonight. I just made an appointment for eight o'clock and at eight thirty I promised to take your daughter to a movie. Well, tonight for a change she'll go alone and see the picture, and I'll make certain that you don't see Harry at any other night this week, unless you decided to climb upon my knee, sunny boy. Do you want me to be over at your house at nine o'clock tonight? Well, all right. Good. I thought you'd see things my way. Better be at my place at quarter to nine, Denton, and I need hardly tell you to keep the whole matter a closely guarded secret. Goodbye. Son. See, I have to be a dopey son for Miss Brooks and a quiz kid for... Oh, no. That's wrong. I'm Mrs. Kimberly's quiz kid. Or did Miss Brooks want me to play a dope? Gosh, the problems of adolescence will kill me yet. Honest Brooks will return in a moment. Radio is as adaptable as it's possible to be. Radio sets on the porch as comfortable as grandpa. Radio can fare forth into the backyard and keep the green-thummer company in his garden. Radio can nest linen attic corner and keep things lively during spring cleaning. Radio can liven the basement workshop as readily as the parlor, bedroom, or kitchen. Not only that, but radio rides a car as slick as a hot rudder can and loves the beach. Seaworthy. People have been known to be seasick. Radios never. Some people are afraid of high places. Radio loves high places. Weather affects people, but not radios. Hot or cold, dry or damp, radios available on request. And naturally, radio performs by day as well as by night. Listen while you work. Try it tomorrow. Try it every weekday. And CBS Radio will be happy to make you equated with a great family of daytime shows America listens to most. Unknown to each other, Mr. Conklin and Ms. Brooks have each written an article for true family romances. And also, without the other knowing it, both have asked Walter Denton to act as their son to authenticate their articles. The only trouble is, for one, he must play a dopey kid, and for the other, a quiz kid. At her house later that evening, Ms. Brooks is waiting intensely for Walter to arrive. It's two minutes to wait, Mrs. Davis. Where can Walter be? He should have been here by now. Mr. Nemo will be here any minute. What if we can't get rid of him before Mr. Conklin arrives? You can only control yourself. Don't be so nervous. Nervous? Me? Me? Nervous? I might be impatient, but I never get nervous. How can you say I'm nervous? I wonder what's keeping... Oh, I'll get it, Mrs. Davis. Hello, I'm Mr. Nemo. Oh, uh, won't you come in? I'm Mrs. Kimberly. Oh, it's a pleasure. Well, Mrs. Kimberly, I got here on time. Yes, and I hope to get you off on time. That is, knowing you're a busy man. Yes, yes. I do have to chat with Sarah Doolittle at nine. Now then, where is that wonderful quiz kid you wrote about? Joel? Oh, he's probably still in the school laboratory. I just know he's going to be a scientist. Do you know that yesterday a test tube burst during one of his experiments and sent a mushroom to the ceiling? What? You mean he was... He was boiling mushrooms. Oh, you have me worried for a moment. But you promised to have him here this evening, Mrs. Kimberly. Oh, he'll be home any minute. I asked Joel to pick up some bread on the way home, and he... Oh, there he is now. Hello, Joel, dear. Yeah, I'm home, Mummy. I'm home. What is this? Joel, put down that yo-yo. And what kept you so long? I sent you for a loaf of bread two hours ago. Yeah, I couldn't finish the loaf any quicker, Mummy. Mr. Nemo, dear. Shake hands with the gentleman, Joel. How are you? Bit me in the hand. Well, one loaf of bread is hardly enough for a growing boy. Nemo's mouth to see him. Now, go inside and bring some fruit for the table. You all right, Mummy? Mrs. Kimberly, that's a quiz kid. I guess he's been slightly over-quizzed lately. Doesn't sound possible. He seems, if anything, a bit backward. Yes, well, you see, he's sort of a backward quiz kid. By that, I mean, he works so hard at his books all day, toward evening, his brain begins to wander a little. Seems to have left the country. I'm sorry, Mrs. Kimberly, that wasn't a kind thing to say. Oh, that's all right. Well, it's almost 10 after 8, Mr. Nemo. Time is flying, and you do have that appointment with Sarah Doolittle, so why don't you just give me the check? Oh, go out the back way. Excuse me for a moment. Hello, Miss Brooks. We have no brushes tonight. Thanks, bye. A brush salesman? What's he doing out this time of night? Maybe there's nothing good on television. Oh, this fellow just won't take no for an answer. Miss Brooks, why did you slam that door against my nose? I'm sorry, sir, but we make all our own brushes. Bye. Hold it! Are we suffering from a nervous breakdown, Miss Brooks, or are we begging for one? I've never seen you resist a typing assignment with so much... Oh, you have company. Aren't you going to introduce us? Mr. Nemo, this is Mr. Conklin. Nemo? You're Mr. Nemo? Yes, Joshua Nemo. Don't I recognize your voice from someplace? My voice? No, no, I'm sure you're mistaken. Well, Miss Brooks, I must be going. Must be on my way. But, sir... I'll leave it once if I'm going to sell my full quarter of brushes tonight. Have you just... Back, Mummy. Well, see you all again. Recognize the voice. You're Sarah Doolittle. Mustache and all. But just whose son is this? Mrs. Kimberley here says he's hers. Oh, Mummy. And at the same time, Mr. Doolittle also has a claim on him. Well... Kimberley or Doolittle? Bo. Bo? He's a Kimberley Doolittle. You know, like Kaiser Fraser, Sears and Robux. Like Parking Bull? I did, and it fits. I thought so well. I don't remember ever having enjoyed a night at the theater so much. And I think we can just forget about those $50 checks. Oh. You are Dorothy Kimberley. And, of course, you realize, Miss Brooks, that I am bound by duty to report you to Mr. Stone and recommend severe disciplinary action. You are, Sarah? You are, Daddy? On the other hand, we might consider the whole episode philosophically as a sort of exciting experience which we need not necessarily share with Mr. Stone. And, Miss Brooke? Yes, that's the exciting experience. But, Mr. Conklin, I thought of a follow-up article you might try writing, and this time you could prove it beyond the shadow of a doubt. Article? What sort of an article? A little number called How I Brought Up My Backward English Teacher. Our Miss Brooke, starring Eve Arden, transcribed with the decision directed by Larry Burns, written by Arthur Allsberg and Lou Derman with the music of Lud Bluskin. Mr. Conklin was played by Gail Gordon. In the last, we're Jane Morgan, Dick Crenna, Bob Rockwell, Gloria McMillan and Joel Samuel. Be sure to be with us next week for another comedy episode of Our Miss Brooks.