 Your Coca-Cola bottler presents, Claudia, based on the famous play and novels by Rose Frankin. Brought to you transcribed Monday through Friday by your friendly neighbor who bottles Coca-Cola. Relax, and while you're listening, refresh yourself. Have a Coke. And now, Claudia. Your pipe makes it a nice smell for an evening. Mm-hmm. It's what the well-dressed man smokes at night. Oh, that's why you smoke. Oh, that's the only reason. I see. I bet she doesn't taste as good as it smells. Now, that you will not find out. The double-standard again. I wonder how soon women will be allowed to smoke pipes. Sir, over my dead body. Fine way to talk. Why the mime? I used to think you do use-up ashtrays, don't you? What's that? I said you certainly do use-up ashtrays. That's what they're for. Blast it. What'd you say? Consigned ashtray. What is the matter with- So darn small, I keep spilling my ashes out on the table. Ouch, ouch. I'll burn my hand. Just use a little care, dear. What I want to know is, why do I have to use such a little ashtray? Oh, here, I'll empty it out for you. Give me. Claudia, I'm just emptying my pipe. Well, wait a minute till I empty the ashtray. Well, look what you've done. What have I done? You whisked the ashtray out from under my pipe. Well, how clever of you to catch the ashes in your hand, babe. You're so quick. But my hand is not an ashtray. What are you doing beautifully? Beautifully. I'll just empty this one out and then give it back to you. Now, where did I put the silent butler? When you hurry up, it's a little warm. Silent butler, silent butler. Isn't that a sweet name for the little business, put the ashes in? Silent butler. Don't be so silent. Where are you? Why can't you wait to empty an ashtray until I'm through smoking my pipe? You're never through. You empty your pipe more than you smoke it. Yeah, sure, sure, sure. Tap, tap, tap. Ashtrays flooded over. Now, if you have a decent-sized ashtray around here, they wouldn't flood over so far. Oh, that old- As a matter of fact, to repeat that old story again, I don't see why we can't have some decent man-sized ashtrays around the house. Because. Because? Yes, because. If I weren't the kind of man who smokes a pipe, all right, keep your lady-like ashtrays. But you told me you like my smoking pipe and I like my smoking a pipe, why can't I have a decent man-sized ashtray? Because this room is a living room and not a man's club. Well, it's my living room, too, you know. Of course, of course, darling. You have a big chair for you and all the comforts you desire. No, but one a little, little tiny ashtray, yeah. Boy. I'll be sensible, David. Look at this delicate little table. You can't have an enormous ashtray sitting on it. Why not? Because it would be out of kilter. And there's those end tables. You can't have enormous ashtrays on them either. And it'd be out of kilter. Exactly. Exactly. Why do they have to have little saucers instead of ashtrays? Well, these fancy little things wouldn't hold up. Because they fit in with the mood of the room. But they don't fit in with the mood of my pipe. Well, you can't have everything. I certainly realize that. Why can't I have a big ashtray? David, don't sound so persecuted. I am persecuted. Here's a nice, clean ashtray. And fill it up to your heart's content. Well, my heart's content is not so easily contented. Here, now, where are you going with that ashtray? Just picking it up to dust the ashes off the table. Claudia, I am still sitting here with ashes in my hand. Oh, do you good. Keep them offs out of it. That's carpets. Right. Here you are. Grumpy. Grumpy. Oh, now look at this table top. I have to wax it tomorrow. Hey, what are you doing with that lamp? I'm just straightening it out. Go on, darling. Read your book. Do you want to disturb you? I would take a yogi in the seventh stage not to be disturbed by you and you start feeling neat. Just tidying up a little. I don't like to have ashes floating around. Oh, what are you doing down the floor? Reducing my hips. You don't have any hips. Worst luck. There. Master the ashes. Thank heavens. I'm not disturbing you, David. No, no. I know by now, when you're reading a book, you don't want to be disturbed. No, you should. Well, you look at those poor old dead flowers. How have I ever left them around so long? Because you hate throwing anything out. I guess they're just dead. They were. They were lovely when they were alive, weren't they? Oh, well, I suppose I better empty them while I'm at it. Can't you do anything without talking? There's no water in the bowl. No wonder the flowers are dead for things. Now, why do you suppose there's no water in them? Do you think the dogs drank it? Oh, sure. They took the sipping. David, you're getting ashes on the table again. Well, it can't be helped again. Well, you could try to get them in the ashtray. A lime of bean would be too big for this ashtray. That is a beautiful piece of staffature, David. Staffature or Worcester or whatever you want to call it. It's not for pipe ashes. Cigarettes, maybe, but not for pipe. But it's beautiful. Beautiful. David, I've just dusted that table. Look at what... Oh, well, when one has a man around the house, one must expect these things. Yes, one must. You do love the smell of your pipe. But? But me no buts. But? I suppose every silver lining has its flowers. And every ashes has its pipe. I must philosophize and take the good with the bad. And I must also take these flowers into the kitchen. They look like their own funeral. A funeral long since dead. And I might hear some more of it tonight. Let's talk about ashes. It's funny. All the different things that ashes mean. David, kiss me. I suppose all of this has just been leading up to that. Of course. What a silly girl you are. Beautiful. Now, I'll give you a kiss and then you scudoodle. It's a bargain. There you go. What's the matter? You're tickling the back of my neck. I'm not anywhere near the back of your neck. Something's tickling the back of my neck. Oh, for heaven's sake, it's the dead flowers. I told you that something was wrong. Well, I'll take them right out to the kitchen. I might just well leave the bowl right there on the table. It looks nice. Darling, you remember who gave us that bowl? No, I haven't sliced idea. It's a wedding present. I've been married too long to remember each and every wedding present. Has there really been that long? It certainly has. In case you're interested, a girl I went to school with gave it to me. It couldn't be much of a girl. It isn't much of a bowl. I like it short and squatty. I suppose you prefer the tall, thin ones like ostriches. Oh, yes, I much prefer ostriches. I like this one because it looks like the bottom half of a half of a balloon. Don't you think? Lovely and heavy too. It's very convenient. You were going to throw those flowers in the kitchen, remember? Oh, yes, yes. So I was. Yes, so you were. I'll only be gone a minute, darling. Well, I'll just sit here and pine away. You go right away. Is there anything you want from the kitchen while I'm out here? No, not a thing. Oh, that's a milkshake. No, not a thing. I don't need them. You want me to answer that? I suppose that silence means yes. Well, the night ash trays, ashes, dead flowers, bowls, the night ostriches, doorbells ringing. Doctor here? Yes, I didn't expect it to be you, Mr. Tucker. The doorbell rang. Well, I rang the doorbell as kind of advanced notice. Let my ox to home. Well, come on in the living room. Mrs. Norton, is she out tonight? Oh, no, she just went into the kitchen for something. She'll be right back in. I was walking up to Matthew Warren and saw the light burning in your living room. So I thought I'd pop in and pass the time of day with you a bit. Very glad you're dead. With the hour of days, pass the time of night rather than pass the time of day, I guess, eh? How about a smoke, Mr. Tucker? I got my pipe with me here. Then have some of my tobacco. Don't mind if I do. I'll warn you, son, it won't make no difference to me. What won't? My tobacco or your tobacco inside my mouth. The insides of my mouth has gotten so calloused with age I wouldn't taste the kick of a mule. But if you don't mind wasting it, I'll go right ahead. Thanks. Wait till you're 86, son, just wait till you're 86. I can wait. Here, you want a light? Oh, I got my own matches. I can never borrow what I got. Yeah, just use that ash tray there on the table. Oh, right, right, son. Well, what do you know? Smell this here tobacco right through the roof of my mouth. You see, you're not as calloused as you think. I wonder if my palate's got so calloused from talking or smoking. Reckon from talking. My sister, Delilah, she says I talk more in a chatter and monkey. But I always kind of considered myself a silent man, slow-spoken and tight-tongued. Well, I guess no one sees their selves as others see them. Which, for most folks, is probably a good thing. Nice, comfortable room. Let's hear a room of yours is. David, this room is blue with smoke. How many pipes do you smoke? Oh, howdy, ma'am. Why, Mr. Tucker, is that you there behind that thick veil? Hello. Have you been hiding there all evening? Which I had. Well, make yourself at home. I already am, and as such, I want to tell you something. Oh, oh, here we go. I noticed something about you that's something that's very rare. Oh, I can't imagine. Your husband here invited me to sit down for a smoke with him, and I must say, ma'am, you're a woman among women. If I'd found a woman that you're understanding when I was a lad, I daresay I wouldn't let myself get married, too. Well, I love the smell of pipe smoke. Is that unusual? No, no, it ain't what I'm leading up to. If I get home and tell my Delilah, it'll teach that sister mine a couple of things. What will teach your sister what, Mr. Tucker? You're the first woman, the first woman, ma'am, who has a decent size ashtray around the house. Me? Most females. I mean, I? They only got these here, piccioni, little nambi, pambi ashtrays. Piece of glass of china. They don't allow their husbands the luxury of a decent size ashtray. David, what have you been telling Mr. Tucker? Oh, I haven't been telling Mr. Tucker anything. The only thing I can't stand is having to tap out my pipe into an ashtray the size of a silver dollar. Then a woman blames you if you get ashes on the floor, ashes on the table. And you sure are to be congratulated. This is a flop. See? Comfort days to tap my pipe out into a full-grown ashtray. David, the flower bowl. Yes, Mrs. Norton. Any wife? Your wife, Mr. Norton, she's quite a woman. Well, as a matter of fact, Mr. Tucker, Claudia and I were discussing ashtrays just before you came here. Mr. Tucker, there's something I have to tell you. I'm talking. David, I... Mr. Tucker, one thing that Claudia simply insists on having around the house are things to make life pleasanter and easier and so much simpler for a man. Oh, David. And one of those things, since I happen to be a pipe smoker, I mean, you know I've always been a pipe smoker, one of the things that I have to have is a good-sized, great big, convenient ashtray. Well, sure be a lucky man. And you see, Claudia doesn't go in for all those little saucers and fancy silver or glass or china dishes. Oh, no, sir. She realizes the value of giving a man what he needs. I can't stand this. And the fact that an ashtray is a little out of proportion to her tablewife, oof! Claudia is enough of a woman to overcome that. David, I hate you. Keep talking, son. My joy is dropping in respect. Just one more word, Mr. Tucker. Usually, I don't like to compliment my wife too much. Well, a tiny good idea. Oh, but one must give the devil her due. Claudia knows that the secret of our happy, unruffled marriage, Mr. Tucker, is a good-sized ashtray. Hey, hey, what was that? Sausage broke? Darling, you dropped your little ashtray. No, it's not a little ashtray, David. It's just a little piece of the past. When it's time for one of your favorite radio programs, make the most of that interlude. Relax thoroughly. Have a bottle of ice cold Coca-Cola handy. Sit back, drink, and listen refreshed. And if guests join you of an evening for a popular radio show, serve Coke all around. Let everyone enjoy the pause that refreshes. Say, do you notice Mrs. Norton, she didn't blink an eyelash when she dropped that ashtray? Because there's more to it than meets an eyelash, Mr. Tucker. Well, there always is, son. Well, I've had my pipe. I'd best be getting home. Will we see you tomorrow? I don't believe so. Mr. Norton, he's taken Mrs. Norton into the big city with him. Oh, I didn't know. Oh, guess a woman's got to win the shop and feel acidified once in a while. So he's taken her to dinner to some fancy restaurant, he told me. And thank you for telling me. Well, it was my pleasure. I always enjoy repeating what ain't a secret. What is a secret? Them's what I enjoy repeating even more. So long, son. Goodbye, Mr. Tucker. Every day, Monday through Friday, Claudia comes to you transcribed with the best wishes of your friendly neighbor who bottles Coca-Cola. So listen again tomorrow at the same time. And now this is Joe King saying, or if war. And remember, whoever you are, whatever you do, wherever you may be, when you think of refreshment, think of Coca-Cola. For Coca-Cola makes any pause the pause that refreshes. And ice-cold Coca-Cola is everywhere. This broadcast of Claudia was supervised and directed by William Brown Maloney. And now here's a word from your friendly neighbor who bottles Coca-Cola.