 During the course of the school year, our Miss Brooks, who teaches English at Madison High, has constantly shown a rare genius for getting into the doghouse with her principal, Mr. Conklin. I've gotten into it with him so often, he's even thinking of building me one of my own. But about a month ago, I was given an unexpected opportunity to redeem myself for all my mishaps during the past year. Mr. Conklin asked his teachers and students to volunteer for certain school projects, and he permitted me to take over his favorite spring project, the school garden. I was rather surprised at first until Mr. Conklin explained that the garden is 200 yards behind our school, and he needs that much space between us for self-preservation. Last Thursday morning, I decided to get up early and have a look at my handiwork before class. But as I went into our dinette for a quick cup of coffee, my landlady had a little surprise for me. Connie, instead of baking an eggs this morning, I fixed you something rare and exotic. How does it look, dear? Indigestible. Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Davis. That was unkind of me. You tell me what that stuff is, and I'll eat it. Oh, it's only some arrowroot papaya, kukui, and poha. I still say you tell me what it is, and I'll eat it. Dear, these are Hawaiian fruits and vegetables. My neighbor Mrs. Anderson is vacationing in Honolulu, and she sent me a whole crate full of this stuff. Tell you the truth. I'm not really very hungry this morning, anyway. Oh, dear, I had a feeling you wouldn't go for this Hawaiian mess. But, Connie, if you tried it, don't you think you might get used to it? Well, perhaps. Actually, you won't even need this stuff, Mrs. Davis. In another few days, I'm going to treat you to a batch of real fresh homegrown vegetables right out of the school garden that Walter Denton and I planted. Right. The inter-school gardening contest is in a few weeks, isn't it? But how do you know the vegetables will come up in time? Oh, they'll come up. Even if Mr. Conklin has to plant me underneath to push them up. He's really determined to beat out Jason Brill for the trophy this year, particularly since Clay's principal won the award last year. Oh, you never saw such a vegetable garden. Radishes, celery, tomatoes, spinach. But what did Mr. Conklin's garden produce? A half acre of night blooming jasmine. He'd bought the wrong seeds. Oh, he's warned me if I fail him in this project, I won't have an evening to myself the rest of the semester. Oh, but, Connie, that isn't fair. I'm sure he hasn't been that strict with the rest of his faculty. Well, perhaps he doesn't have to be. So far, Mr. Boynton's done a good job handling the cafeteria. Miss Miller's tossed out most of the school rubbish. What about Miss Inwright? Miss Miller missed her. What do you mean Miss Inwright's project? Well, that one really confuses me. She chose, as her project, the care and feeding of Catherine, the school goat and mascot. Well, maybe Miss Inwright likes goats coming. Well, maybe so. She's certainly been trying to get mine for years. Well, I don't suppose I'll... Oh, I'll get it, Mrs. Davis. Hello? Middle news. Disaster has finally struck. What is it, Walter? What happened? You're not hurt, are you? No, no, nothing like that. This is much worse. Much, much worse. Oh, this is terrible. Simply awful. I just went back to our school garden and there isn't any. No school garden? Not a thing? Walter, you don't mean it's completely barren. Put two skulls there, Miss Brooks, and you've got Death Valley. Whose skulls, Mr. Compton, will use for landscaping? That doesn't seem possible, Walter. You sure nothing came up? Well, only one thing while I was there, Miss Brooks. It's the one thing we didn't plan. Well, I'll come right down and take a look, Walter. Goodbye. Goodbye, Miss Brooks. And if you draw up a suicide pack, count... Honey, I couldn't help overhearing you. What happened to your garden, dear? It goofed. Well, now I'd better get down to school at once. The genial Miss Brooks. That's three misstatements in the same sentence. Good morning, Miss Inwright. And you remember Catherine? Our school mascot, Miss Brooks? I know Catherine remembers you. Don't you remember Miss Brooks, Catherine? Baaah! You won't get any argument out of me this morning, Catherine. Oh, why so glum today, darling? Your mood hardly becomes that delightful flowery spring hat you're carrying. You know, it seems I saw the exact duplicate on someone else recently. The exact duplicate? Oh, no. No. It's not the exact duplicate. The hat on the horse's head had holes for its ear. I'll tell you, I imagine the reason you're back here is to catch up with Mr. Conklin. Catherine and I passed him just a moment ago on his way out to your garden. Mr. Conklin? On his way out to the garden? Are you certain? Of course, darling. You remember Mr. Conklin, don't you, Catherine? Baaah! My sentiments exactly. But he hasn't seen the garden yet. Maybe I can still head him off. Now, if you'll excuse... You can't figure out what happened to that garden. Well, maybe you should have had someone with a green thumb to help you, like me. No, thanks. I would have spent half my time keeping your green thumb out of my blue eye. I feel it's the least I could have done after the help you've given me with my project. In the month I've had Catherine in my custody, she must have put on at least 25 pounds. And I owe it all to you. To me? But I didn't feed her. Oh, but you did, darling. Every night for the past three weeks, I've let her graze in your garden. You let her graze in my garden? Then the vegetable did come up after all. You're only long enough to go down Catherine's throat. Oh, how that animal can eat. I must admit, I helped her. That must have been quite a sight. Two old goats grazing together in the garden. Let's not be bitter. Just resign yourself to the fact that you've been outwitted as usual. With your current project to failure, you will be working evening for Mr. Conklin and dear Mr. Boynton will have more time for me. Oh, then that's the reason you volunteered to take care of our mascot. You planned this whole thing. Like a general plans a campaign. Well, if I had a medal, I'd know just where I'd like to pin it. But I still can't believe that one goat could eat that much. Well, you just don't know Catherine. Why, she'll eat anything. I've seen her when she... Darling, where did you put your hat? That's right here in my... Good grief. While we've been talking, Catherine's eaten it. Oh, I am so sorry. Well, I don't suppose there's any use worrying about that. Anyway, not with the trouble heading this way. Oh, here you are, Miss Green Thumb. Is that right? Would you please excuse us? I have something I want to say to Miss Brooks. Certainly, Mr. Conklin. Say goodbye to Mr. Conklin and Miss Brooks, Catherine. Bye-bye. Good bye to you, Catherine. I suppose you know where I've just been, Miss Brooks. Yes, sir, you've seen our garden and I'm back in the doghouse again. In it? You practically own it, lassie. Miss Brooks, what happened to my garden? Talking could convince Mr. Conklin that our school goat had eaten up my vegetable garden. My only hope was for the goat to break out in a rash of Brussels sprouts. But with the school garden contest, a mere two weeks away and my funeral scheduled for the day after if we didn't win, at noon time, I decided to seek the advice of my favorite fellow teacher. Since the school cafeteria was his current project, I knew I'd find Mr. Boynton in the kitchen. So I went down there just before lunch, opened the door. Oh, my goodness. I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Boynton. Mr. Boynton. Mr. Boynton, where are you? Down here. Under the goat, Miss Brooks. Oh, I'm awfully sorry. Here, let me help you out. Well, luckily nothing happened to your new white suit. It's my old blue surge. I was milking Catherine. Milking Catherine? Well, since Catherine, the goat, is the school mascot, I thought maybe I'd introduce goat's milk on the menu and let the students try it. What do you think of the idea? After one taste, the new school mascot will be Elsie the cow. It's a shame the milk spilled all over you, though. Well, there's no great harm done. My suit was old anyway, and I can wipe the milk off with this towel. Luckily, nothing happened to my new Panama hat. You like it, Miss Brooks? Walter Denton said he thought it was real nervous. I'm in trouble again. What kind of trouble, Miss Brooks? Well, that goat ate up Mr. Conklin's garden. He ate up the garden? Well, Miss Brooks, no goat could eat that much. Mr. Boynton, that goat didn't put on 25 pounds in the last months due to an underactive thyroid. You see, Miss Enright purposely turned her loose to grays in order to... I can't believe it, Miss Brooks. Miss Enright may have her little faults, but she certainly isn't a vandal. No, I'm sure that you're just... My goodness, Mr. Boynton, you're covered with milk. What happened? Your goat ate so much, it exploded all over him. Miss Enright, Miss Brooks is under the impression that you encouraged Catherine to eat up Mr. Conklin's garden. Well, that's an utterly fantastic idea. She has absolutely no basis... Well, there's no use worrying about that now. Anyway, there are still two weeks until the contest, and anything can happen in that time. Correction, darling, there were two weeks, but those two weeks don't exist anymore. Don't tell me Catherine ate them up too. No, not exactly. I happened to be covering the office of Mr. Conklin during the last period, and Mr. Stone called. Mr. Stone called? Yes, Miss Brooks. We had a little small talk when suddenly, out of a clear blue sky, he decided to hold the garden contest tomorrow instead of waiting two weeks. And I have a pretty good idea who dropped that clear blue sky on my head. Miss Enright, you just reminded me there's one thing I forgot to plant last week. What's that? You. Good friendliness. I suggest you teach that walking garbage disposal not to eat people's hat. Darling, do you still think Catherine ate your hat? Mr. Boynton, you know ghosts don't really eat things like that. Of course they don't. They'd get deathly ill. I really miss Brooks. I think that you... Hey, what happened to my new straw hat? That. If you'll look closely, you'll notice how perfectly the red feather blends with Catherine's tongue. Hey, the fool goat did eat my hat. Oh, now really, Mr. Boynton. Come, Catherine. It's suddenly gotten rather unfriendly in here. Baa! I could also be construed as a burp. Hey, maybe that fool goat did eat your vegetables at that, Miss Brooks. Of course she did. But with Mr. Stone judging the school garden tomorrow, it really doesn't make any difference who's to blame for what. I'm sunk. Yeah, I guess so. Oh, say, why not forget your troubles and help me with my shopping this afternoon? I've got to buy next week's groceries for the cafeteria. Yeah, well, it must be something we could do to next week's groceries for the cafeteria. Mm-hmm. I've got to run down to Tony's produce market and buy $50 worth of celery and lettuce, tomatoes, beets. Mr. Boynton, would you mind terribly if those vegetables you're going to buy made one stop over between Tony's and the school refrigerator? One stop over? Where? In our school garden. What? Miss Brooks, what are you talking about? Just this. Before tonight is over, we're going to transform that spot from Conklin's Desert Oasis to Tony's Garden Paradise. Baa! Peaceful back here, Mr. Boynton. Just you and I and $50 worth of Tony's vegetables. Yes, it sure is dark tonight. Hey, it's lucky we have this flashlight. Have you ever thought about what we would have done if that little bulb had gone out? Constantly. And difficult to plant all those vegetables. Yes, of course. Frankly, Miss Brooks, I didn't like this whole idea and if Miss Enright hadn't played that trick on you, I never would have been a party to it. I realize that, Mr. Boynton, but there was nothing else we could do under the circumstances. Anyway, since most of the vegetables are planted now, let's not think about them anymore. Let's think about us. Us? Yes, my hands have been in the ground so much the last hour. They're cold, Mr. Boynton. Oh, mine are too, Miss Brooks. Well, let's warm them up, shall we? Uh, what would you suggest? Suggest? Uh, how about trotting a couple of laps around the athletic field? Mr. Boynton, I said my hands are cold, not my feet. Oh, well, suppose I just reach across and... Cal, your fingers are freezing, Miss Brooks. They're holding a bunch of carrots. Isn't that another flashlight over there? Yeah, where? Oh, are you all right, Miss Brooks? Somebody's coming. Oh, we can't be found here. Not with a hot vegetable garden. Let's get behind that big oak tree until they pass by. You get behind the oak. I'll get behind the small elm right near it. Now, if we both get behind that oak, we'd have to huddle too close together so as not to be seen. Oh, I'm certain the oak will hide the two of us easily. Well, all right, Miss Brooks, but please come along. I only hope whoever that is. Sure, you must be mistaken, Harriet. I saw no flashlight in the vicinity of my bald, vegetable garden. Well, I guess it was a firefly then. Can you tell a flashlight from a firefly from a distance, Daddy? Well, of course. If you can hear it breathing, it's a firefly. There are no fireflies around this time of year, child, and do stop dropping those cucumbers all over the place. But, Daddy, do you think it's honest buying all these vegetables and laying them out in your garden? Just to win a prize? Well, it's not dishonest. We're merely giving these poor, friendless little vegetables a home for a day or so. Harriet, thank goodness you've been brought up to be a good, honest child, and your Daddy dearly loves you. But there are times when he devoutly wishes he could trade in his scrupulously honest daughter for a slightly sneaky son. Harriet, not an honest son. Harriet, not another word. Just drop your bag of vegetables in front of that oak tree and start distributing the stuff in even rows. Well, all right, Daddy. I'll start planting my tomatoes in this row of two-foot-high celery, and you start planting your vegetables over there. We'll soon have this barren desert looking like I'll start planting my tomatoes in this row of two-foot-high celery. Onions and radishes. Oh, what hath heaven wrought? A few short hours ago a wasteland, barren, denuded, and now this miracle that passeth human understanding. I must... Harriet, is there a bright shimmering glow about my head? Not right. Over there, there's somebody coming. You're right, child. There is somebody. Great Scott, we must be caught here. Quick, hide behind that elm tree. I'll get behind you over there. I don't think anyone could see me behind here. Phew. Certainly wouldn't want any of my teachers to know what I was up to tonight. There isn't one of them I could trust to keep my secret. Not even Mr. Boynton? No, no, not even Mr. Boynton. True, he's a just and honest man with a highly developed moral sense, but you could never be certain. But how about Miss Brooks, sir? She can keep a secret. Old blabberlip? If she kept a secret bottled up in herself Oh, I don't know about that, Mr. Conker. Oh, take my word for it, Miss Brooks. If she ever saw me here in this garden at this hour and knew the scheme I had, take my word for it, Miss Brooks! To myself. The thing you have your arm around is not a branch, but Mr. Boynton. And I suppose this is not really an oak tree, but Miss Perkins of our math department. Shall we cut our initials in there, sir, and find out? Shall we close our little traps, Miss Brooks? Oh, Miss Brooks, things are beginning to add up. Then it was you who laid out all those beautiful vegetables. Yes, sir. It was Brooks that wrought before not heaven. Well, since we're all in the same boat, there's nothing. Say, if that person out there with the flashlight is starting to pick up our vegetables. Hi, Jacker. Who could it be, anyway? My guess is that it's Jason Brill. He'd stop at nothing to keep that gardening trophy. It plays at a high. But you think he'd stoop to anything so low? He has a reputation for being the most unprincipled principle in the country. But we'll hand him the shock of his life. Grab a nice juicy vegetable, both of you. I'll take this watermelon. I've got something here that weighs a ton. Must be an oversized squash. That's my handbag. Attention, get ready to jump him. When I give the signal, we charge. Ready now? One, two... You're off! Sitting on my chest! Yes, yes, sir. Of course, of course. Yes, yes, yes, yes. Yes, yes. Oh, Miss Brooks, get up. You're sitting on the head of the board. Mighty peculiar place for a head. Oh, the head of the board. Let me help you up, sir. I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Stone. We thought, Boyden, you may stop pulling Mr. Stone's hair now. I was just combing out the watermelon seeds. Oh, no, leave them there, Boyden. I love the taste of watermelon as it dribbles down from my forehead and I catch the drops on my tongue. Conklin! What was the meaning of that dastardly attack by the three of you on my person? Oh, well, I'm terribly sorry, sir. Terribly sorry. Believe me, sir. We thought you were a vandal. We've had vandals around here lately. That's why we were all here tonight to stand guard. But why are you here, sir? I happened to drop by your home to make sure you'd been informed about my moving up the date for the garden contest and your wife said I might find you in your office. On the way over, I thought I'd like to take a peek at your garden. Well, how do you like it, sir? Well, it's exquisite. It's simply exquisite. Oh, thank you. Thank you. It seems only yesterday that all this was just a barren, desperate waste there. As a matter of fact, it seems like only a half hour ago to me. Do you like the celery, Mr. Stone? Beautiful, Miss Brooks. I don't believe I've ever seen celery stock so high. And these cabbages, magnificent and... What in heaven's name is this angry-looking furry vegetable here, Conklin? Angry-looking furry vegetable? I knew Mrs. Davis would get rid of that stuff somewhere. And these fruits here look quite familiar to me. Mrs. Stone and I once spent a summer in Hawaii. Conklin, how did you ever get kukui and arrowroot and papaya to grow in this climate? Well... It's really quite a fascinating story, to tell him the fascinating story, Miss Brooks. The fascinating story? Well, we knew ordinary farming methods would never grow us any Hawaiian fruit, so we watered the ground here daily with pineapple juice. Oh, really now? And tell me, Miss Brooks, how did you manage to grow a fruit with a little tag on the bottom saying, Welcome to beautiful Hawaii? Frankly, sir, those tags, Welcome to Hawaii, were just sent to the three of us today. And just why were they sent to the three of you, Miss Brooks? Because right now it looks like we'll be teaching there next semester. Mr. Conklin was played by Gail Gordon.