 The Anderson family. Now, wait a minute, Chapman. You don't hold a football that way at all. You're telling me how to kick one of those things? Stand back and no lift, Anderson. Let Mr. Chapman have it, Oliver. He's not going to kick it on the lacing and break it. Who ain't going to kick what football on what laces? You might puncture it, Mr. Chapman. Let me have the ball. Stand back, Anderson. I might miss the ball and kick where you're not looking. Uh-oh. Here we go again, folks. Well, this whole thing started when Junior Anderson accidentally spoiled a football belonging to Butch Chapman. Butch's father, in no uncertain terms, insisted Oliver replace the football and have it by six o'clock this evening or else. Oliver knows what the or else means and is discussing it right this minute with Junior. I can't understand, Junior, why you had to destroy Butch's football when you have two of your own. I don't have two like that one, Pop. Mine are just those little cheap kind, which has cost $11. $11? Why, I won't pay it. But you agreed to replace it, Oliver. Junior told Butch you would. I'm not agreeing to pay $11. I'll repair it first. It can't be repaired, Pop. When it went through the glass, it got all cut up. Well, there's no reason. Through what glass? Well, I was going to tell you, but I forgot, I guess. It's the glass in Mr. Delancey's greenhouse, Oliver. Oh, that's different. Delancey's greenhouse? How did that happen? The wind took it, Pop, and it curved right around it. Then we heard the crash. But it's all straightened out now, Oliver. There's no need to keep this thing going any longer. It's done. There's nothing we can do about it now. But, Mary, that's just carelessness. And as long as Junior did it, he could pay for the broken window. Windows, Oliver. It seems there were several of them. I won't pay it. I didn't do it, and I won't pay. Maybe this is Mr. Delancey now. Junior, run on out. I may have to get tough with Delancey. Oh, it's Mr. Chapman. Won't you come in? Yeah, thanks. Where's Anderson? Right in here, Mr. Chapman. Thanks. You sure are a lady, Mrs. Anderson. It must be boring for you around this house. Oh, hello there, Chapman. Come in. I am in, bud. And I want to have a little talk with you. Maybe you should leave the room, Mrs. Anderson. Leave the room? Oh, come now, Mr. Chapman. Is something wrong, Chappy? Is something wrong, he asked me. Nothing that 11 bucks won't remedy. Oh, the football. That's right. Well, I don't like your attitude, Chapman. Well, my general behavior ain't at stake, Anderson. I want 11 bucks. When I left the house, I told Butch I'd come home with 11 bucks or a new football. Oh, well, look, I'll get another football for Butch when I get downtown today. Is that okay? Not just a football, Anderson, but a genuine two-dice-z-sheller professional model. Nothing else. Oh, is there a difference in footballs? Decidedly so, Mrs. Anderson. I won't settle for nothing but a two-dice-z-sheller professional model. Well, suppose I can't find one. Look, let's not delve into future catastrophes, Anderson. You look around till you do find one. Okay, now, look, Chapman, let's analyze this thing. Analyze? That means take a thing apart. Oh, I'd love that. I'd been thinking about it ever since Butch told me about this. Yeah, well, what I mean was, uh, now, look, if Butch hadn't been there with the football, Junior wouldn't have kicked it, right? Yeah, I guess so. And if the wind hadn't carried it, everything would have been all right. What I'm pointing out is this. There are lots of factors which complicate this thing. Look, Anderson, I'm willing to listen to a certain amount of this dribble. But in the end, I want 11 bucks or a two-dice-z-sheller model football. Is that the way it works out with you? Uh, yeah, yes, I guess you're correct. I always do the right thing. Now, you have a football coming and you'll get it. I don't like the way you're referring to a two-dice-z-sheller professional model as just a football. Well, why doesn't Oliver just shop around today and buy one? That's the point in question, isn't it, Mr. Chapman? Yeah, that's right, Mrs. Anderson. Uh, I think that's fair. Now, Chapman, I'm, uh, quite surprised you'd act this way. Eh? You've always been a very fine neighbor. I have. Yes, you have. We've been very proud of the work you did on our plumbing. Well, I tried to do good work. And I know you're upset or you wouldn't act this way. Eh, yeah, I guess I am a bit upset. I hate to have you do anything which would make people lose that high respect they have for you. Uh, excuse me, Oliver, but you'll be late for work. Well, I just wanted to mention what a warm friendship Chapman and I have had in the past. Uh, the time I told your car for three blocks. Yeah, yeah, you did it that, Oliver. And the time I loaned you a saw and you brought it back with ten teeth out of it. That was dirty, Anderson. I'm ashamed. But I didn't know the board had a nail in it. That's all right, pal. Did I run over to your house and want to beat you up? No. I said, oh, it was an accident. Uh, the time, Oliver. Yeah, I know. Anderson, look, I'm ashamed. No, no, no, no, Chapman. No, no, no, I'm all wrong. I don't know what makes me do these things. Oh, well, I know you're upset. It was little Butch's football. Well, fine little fella. Well, maybe we can work this thing out so we're both happy. I sure hope so. This little talk I'm had with you has linked me a lesson, Anderson. Well, that's fine. And we'll have no more trouble, will we, Chapman? Well, not if you bring home a 2-z Schiller professional model football, we won't. Oh, dear, think they have a 2-z Schiller football here, Mary? I'm sure they have, Oliver. This is the most complete department store in town. Well, I wonder if we should disturb this gentleman over here with a wilted carnation or just hunt for the football ourselves. Oh, now, don't start off the trip that way, Oliver. Of course he'd be happy to help. That's what he's paid for. You won't resent it then? Silly. Oh, pardon me. I'm looking for a football. Oh, how interesting. What position do you play? Uh, position? Well, now look, she started out as a substitute, but now she's a guard, and I might add, the end. I'm sure there must be humor in that remark somewhere, sir. Don't bother. I fail to see it. Uh, football, you say? That's right. Do you have any? Why, yes, I believe we do. Several of them. A 2-z Schiller professional? Who told you we had one of those? No one. You just asked. There must be a leak in the organization. I mean a leak or a drip? I'm ignoring that, sir. However, I will tell you that we have just one 2-z Schiller professional, but you can't buy it. Can't buy it? That's right. I'm reserving that one for myself. Me. Mr. Norman Oswald, good. Look, we're customers. That has nothing to do with it, but you might drop up to the third floor and ask if they have any other models of football. I'm sorry, but we'll have to buy a 2-z Schiller professional football. Does much depend on that particular purchase? I should say it does. Doesn't it, Oliver? Now, let's not go into detail on this. Let's go up there and have a girl browse around the merchandise, and maybe she can find something. And thank you, Mr. Brood. It's not Brood. It's G-O-O-D, good. Er, er, that is good. Oh, oh, I see. Okay, Mary, it's three and football. You kind of sawn around over there through the drapes. Let me have a moment alone with this sales girl. How interesting. Okay, now forget the humor. Have to get this football by fair means or foul. Good luck, darling, but remember I'm watching you. I'll remember that. Er, pardon me. What'd you do? Er, nothing. I just wanted to inquire about a football, but I didn't stop to think that such a beautiful girl probably doesn't sell footballs. Yeah, you're just saying that. No, no, I'm not. I'm serious. I'll have to congratulate Joe on his choice of employees. Joe? Joe who? Joe Westerling, the owner of the store. Joe and I are like that. You know the owner? Gee, maybe you can put in a good word for me. I'm sure I can. I only talked to him once, and he was so kind and nice. He said I was indescribable, imbecilicon, and wait till you get this. He said I was obnoxious. He did? Well, thank you. You can see what he thinks. And I think he's wonderful, too. Yes. Now, there's a football in your department, a Z2-Z Schiller professional model. I think it is, and it's all wrapped up. Gee, how did you know? You must be a friend of Joe. Well, I'd like to look at it, the football. It's right under the counter here. I saw it a few minutes ago. Oh, here it is. Oh, but gee, mister, I don't want to sell a friend of Joe's. I mean Mr. Westerling's. A football that ain't no good. No good? That's what it is. See? N-O-G-O-O-D. No good? No, that's all right. I don't like the person I'm giving it to anyhow. I'm glad it isn't any good. Just wrap it up. All right. If you say so. Now, let me see. $11. Here it is. Bladder, $3.50. You mean that's extra? $0.50 for laces. And do you want this gift wrapped? Or will you take it with you? No, no, just mail it. Oh, pardon me. I'm a little upset, I guess. No, I'll just take it with me. And right now, please. There you are. Remember, it's not returnable. I'll write it right on your sales slip. Well, that's all right with me. And if you see Joe again, I mean Mr. Westling, you might say something about me. You can depend on that. Were you ever lucky, Pop? Wait a minute. Huh? What's wrong, Junior? Look, Mom, it says no good on the wrapper. Oh, gee, Pop, they hook you again. No one hooked me, I hooked them. That isn't no good, it's N-O-Good. That's a man's name and a girl didn't do it. Oh, now, Oliver, that's not fair. Take it back. Not me. Slip says it's not returnable. But it's not fair, Oliver. Mr. Good told you he had that football laid away for himself. Yeah, well, it's been sold, honey. Jeepers, Pop, you're really sharp today. I won't be a party to this, Oliver. I can't see why. Mr. Chapman has called twice to see if you got home yet. There, you see? Why, take it back and compromise me. Well, it's the honest thing to do, is all. Gee, Mom, they're hard to guess. Well, of course they are. Take it back. No, I'll call Chapman and tell him to come and get his fuckball. It's not fair to Mr. Good, Oliver. Let Good be on his toes, then. I'm on mine. This is Oliver Anderson. I got one. Good job. Now just calm down and come and get it. You see, Mom, you go on being kind to everyone and being fair, and what does it get you? Junior's right. I bought the football, and it's mine. Gee, Chapman isn't kidding when he says he's the fastest plumber in town. You get it, Mary. I still think you're wrong, Oliver. Mr. Good, come in. Yes, indeed I'll come in. Where's that, that football thief? Now, just a moment, Mr. Good. I'll not be thwarted in my determination to retrieve that football, my dear lady. Where is that man? Oh, oh, oh. Hello, that was good. We shall eliminate the niceties, my good fellow. I'm determined to get that football. I paid for it. It had my name on it. Oliver, dear, I think it would be best... Mary, please. OK, Mr. Good, I'll show you the sales slip. Now there. Right there it's written, not returnable. I shall not go to the hospital without that football. If you reach for it, you will, brother. Oliver, stop this. You know it's Mr. Good's football. I'll fight for this football. That's the old spirit, Pop. Now you stay out of this. And don't think I won't fight for it, sir. I'll not go to the hospital without it. Oliver, give me that football, please. Oh, wow, here. That's fine. Now, Mr. Good, if you'll refund the money, you may have the football. It rightfully belongs to you. Thank you, madam. I'll reimburse you this moment. I shall never forget your kindness. Oh, fine thing. You tried, Pop. You mentioned taking it to the hospital. Oh, my goodness, I almost forgot. I hope I'm not too late. I must get there on time. Taking it to the hospital, darling. Maybe he has a boy like Junior lying in a bed there just waiting for that football. Yeah, I guess I was kind of wrong, poor kid. Don't you feel better about it now, Oliver? Yeah, I guess so. You're right, of course. Back to the Anderson family. Oliver Anderson bought a football to replace one Junior had broken. But, unfortunately, Oliver had bought the football in a rather unorthodox manner and had to return it. Now, all he has to do is either avoid or face the irate Mr. Chapman, who at this moment is coming up the front walk. Now, now, look, Mary, tell him I've stepped out. And you won't be lying, because I'm leaving right now. I'll be over in Homer Meister's garage. But don't tell Chapman. This is no way to handle this, Oliver. Now, let's not argue about the right and wrong of it. I'll have to have time to think. Oh, Junior, you go to the door. I'm not afraid, Mom. He likes me. Gee, this is a surprise. Come on in, Mr. Chapman. Come in. Oh, yeah, Junior. He's obliged. Oh, well, it's Mr. Chapman. Sit down, won't you? Thanks. Where's Anderson? He's out. Oh, out, eh? Where's the football? Uh, football? Why, uh, the football? Yeah, yeah. He called me and told me to come and get it. He wasn't lying, was he? Oh, no. He had the football. Oh, he had it, eh? You mean he ain't got it now? Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Chapman, but the man wanted to take it to the hospital. Oh, the man wanted to say, what is this double talk? What hospital? Well, Oliver bought one, but it really belonged to another man. And the man came and got it back. He had to take it to the hospital. Yeah, I think maybe his little boy was hurt or something. Hey, you mean his kid was hurt? Well, he mentioned he had to take the football to the hospital, so it must be a little boy. Poor kid. And Anderson let him take it. Ah, yes, but could Oliver do? Gee, I admire the jerk for that. You know, there must be some good in Anderson, and this proves it. Oh, he's a swell guy when you get to know him, Mr. Chapman. Gee, poor kid lying there in a hospital, maybe run over or something. Gee, I got a hint at the Anderson. I'd have done the same thing, and you'd think I acted like a heel. Oh, now, Mr. Chapman, you were within your right. No, no, I'm just no good. I'm always shooting off my big mouth. No, tell Anderson to forget about the football. He don't know me nothing. But I'm sure he intends to find another ball. No, no, I don't want it. And Butch don't want it, and I'm apologizing for acting like I did. Oh, that's very nice of you, Mr. Chapman, and I know Oliver will be happy to hear of it when he gets home. I'd sure like to see him. Uh, I'll tell him. Then he could talk to you. Okay, any way you say, Mrs. Anderson. Well, gee, I feel a lot better now about Anderson. Gee, giving up a football is some poor kid lying in a hospital. Hey, hey, have you seen Chapman leave yet, Homer? Nope, nope, near the side of him. Well, maybe I should face it. Have it out with him. There must be a better and safer way, Oliver. In my younger days, I used to swing a mean fist. Yep, even as late as last year. Yeah, had a bruising fight with a pretty tough ombre. Uh, Belcher, not the real estate office, yeah. Belcher, why, he's 65 years old. He ain't no such thing. That's what he wants people to believe. He's just 62 in a note. And you fought with him, Homer? Yep, yep, let him on. Just like a cat leading a mouse. He was a coward and he wouldn't fight at first. Oh, no, not old man, Belcher. Yep, yep, a circle around him, looking for an opening. And finally I found one. Through the back door. Through the back door. No, no, it's not. No such thing. Well, look, this isn't helping me yet. Suppose you and I go right up to Chapman's door. Well, suppose just you go up to his door. I didn't break no football, did I? Well, you're my friend, aren't you? Well, yes, yes, it'd be, Oliver. But I'm in heaven trouble with Marthy over that same thing, fighting. Yep, and he can't afford to carry it no further. I see. Well, I still have to face it. Delancey, too. I owe him for some windows out of his greenhouse. Well, well, now you're talking. If you want him pushed around a bit, well, that's different. Oh, wait a minute. He's an old man. Oh, that's the kind I push around. No, no, never mind. I'll take care of my own problem. Psst, psst, Oliver. He's leaving. Chapman's leaving. Yep. Well, look, suppose I stop him and have it out with him. He'll see you standing there. Oh, he ain't seeing me standing there. No, sir, not me. No. Oh, OK then. I'll let it go for a day or two. Yep, I guess that's the best way. Once I had a run-in with Marthe's pope. Yeah, you told me once. And he, he come right at me. Of course, I was younger then and didn't scare easy. Look, I've heard that twice. You ran under a wagon and he chased you and hit his head on a whiffle tree, right? Hit his head on a whiffle tree. Uh, yep, yep, that's right. Well, I thought so. Now, look, I'm going over and find out just what I'd better do about this Chapman. Come in, Pop. I guess everything's going to be all right. All right? How do you mean? He's sorry. What, about losing the football? No, about the kid in the hospital. Oh. What's going on out here? Oh, it's you. Yeah, uh, Junior says Chapman's all right. He is. I think he acted very much the gentleman. How do you mean? Well, he said to forget the football. Oh, yeah? He wants me to forget it so he can go around and say, I don't pay my debt. You're just making that up, Oliver and... No, sir, I'm going to get that Chapman, a two-dash z-shiller professional for the football if it's the last thing I do. How, Pop? Oh, well, I don't know all right this minute, but I'll get him one somehow. No, Pop. Wait, maybe you're wrong about Chapman being happy. You want me to go to the door, Pop? No, I'll go myself. Now, don't have any trouble on the front porch, Oliver. Well... Oh, it's Mr. Good. Well, now you have your football. What do you want? I'm a rat. I don't care if you're... What? Mr. Anderson, I'm a rat. You are? Oh, well, come on in, I guess. Now, look good. I didn't think you were going to make this a habit. You have your football and I was happy to give it to you. For the kid's sake. May I sit down a moment? Sit down? Well, I guess so. Come on in here. You remember my wife? Oh, of course. How are you, Mr. Good? He's a rat. Well, Oliver Anderson. Whoa. He's right, Mrs. Anderson. I'm a rat. Well, I don't understand. Well, I don't either. I was afraid you wouldn't understand without an explanation, so I came back to tell you about it. How's the little boy? It's a little girl. Huh? Is she ill? No, she's doing splendidly. Seven pounds and eight ounces. Oh, you mean she's shrunk? No. The little darling was born just an hour ago. And you were taking the football to her? Well, that was before I knew. You people had been so kind about the football, I just had to come back and explain my action. Junior, dear, close the door when you go out and be back in 10 minutes. Okay, Mom. I'll be out in 10 minutes. Mary, Junior's not a baby anymore. Ah. All right. Now, let's hear the story. Well, I've been married 12 years. Congratulations. Oliver, please. Well, we were married two years when I received my first call to the hospital. 11.15 a.m., I think. I rushed downtown, bought a football for the new arrival. And? I won't say I was disappointed, but there she was. Six pounds even. Fragile as spun glass. Oh, little girl. How lovely. Yes. We became very fond of her later. Then two years went by. I was summoned again. 4.12 in the afternoon this time. I rushed to the sporting goods store and got the finest football money could buy. A two-dazzies shell a professional model? That's right. I rushed to the hospital and... And? We named her Cynthia. Cute as a bug and fragile as fine spun glass. A little sister. Yes, that's right. Four times I made the trip to the hospital. Four times I bought a football. They must have got tired taking it back. Oliver. And four times I was a little disappointed. And then this time today? Yes. That was why I was desperate. I had to have the two-dazzies shell a professional football. I left your house and rushed to the hospital. I waited four hours and the nurse came out. Same nurse? Yes. You probably call her by her first name by this time, huh? Go on, Mr. Good. Well, the nurse laid the little bundle in my arm. And you started blowing up the football? I did not, sir. I looked down into that beautiful little face. And it was a... Fragile as fine spun glass. Oh, she was a beautiful little creature. Yeah, that's a shame. Yes, yes it is. But yeah, you're young yet. Oh, no, no. I'll never have need for that football again. Well, if you don't need it... I anticipated that, Mr. Anderson, and I've brought the football back. Oh, how nice, Mr. Good. Yes, I hope it makes some little boy happy. I believe the whole bill was 15-10 with the tax. Of course. Oliver, 15-10, please. Oh, sure. Yes. How I envy you, you lucky people. You mean about the football? Yes. Well, I'll run on now. I have to pick up a few things. I saw where they have a special on strained carrots. Well, Mr. Good, I hope your new little girl will make you happy and that everything works out right. Oh, thank you. And when you're watching the eager face of the little boy as he kicks the football, think of me trying to wrap up a doll buggy. That's Mr. Chapman now, Oliver. We can straighten this whole thing up right now. Good evening, Mrs. Anderson. The missus said you folks wanted to see me. Yes, come on in. Oliver wants to see you. Oliver. Oliver, it's Mr. Chapman. Oh, oh, yeah. Sit down, Chapman. Thanks. What's on your mind? Footballs. Oh, what's that, eh? Yeah. Don't be ridiculous, Anderson. I don't want no football. I forgot the whole incident. You don't owe me nothing. No, but I have a two-dance e-sheller professional model. Oh, you have? Well, that's different. Is it a genuine one? Sure is. Here, look. It's too good for a kid. They always are busting something with it. Yeah, I know, but you can watch, butch. Yeah, it sure is a beauty, Anderson. Gee, I bet I could kick it a mile. Not holding it that way you couldn't? Here, here, let me show you. Well, it's good, that ball. I know how to kick him. But I just want to show you the right way. Oh, I'm a stoop, eh? Don't know nothing. You're going to show me, eh? Oh, wait a minute, brother. You kick it any way you want, but you don't hold the laces down. Say, look, Anderson, I kick footballs before you even know how to hold them. Oh, boys, it's late. Maybe, Mr. Chapman, you take the ball on hold. Yeah. Yeah, you're right. But don't try to tell me how to hold the football. Okay, you know. Oh, sir, do it. Come on outside and I'll show you how it works. Uh, it's kind of dark, Mr. Chapman. No, that's okay, that's okay. I'll just boot it easy. It ain't like some kid doing it. Come on, come on out. Be careful, no. Don't worry, don't worry. Stand back. The strings are down. Oh, what? Stand back now. Here she goes. I'm going to boot her a mile. Nothing to it. Theory's all right, but... Hey, hey, where's it going? The wind. It's going over the house. Remember, it's your football, Chapman. Ain't nobody else's I'm going to get it. Oh, my goodness. Right through Mr. Delancey's greenhouse. Just left well enough alone, Oliver. He didn't hold it right. He sure can kick, though, Pop. Well, that's beside the point. I am out $15 and he's out $15 more for the glass. You know, Mary, boys and footballs are a menace. Dear, maybe Mr. Good had something after all. With that fragile as fine spun glass, I dear. And I don't start that. Uh-oh, here we go again, folks. The Anderson family is written by Howard Swart, directed by Herb Lytton and features Dick Lane as Oliver, Louise Arthur as Mary, Walter Tetley as Junior and Herbert Rawlinson as Homer. Mr. Good was played by Ray Erlenborn, Chapman by Doug Young and The Sales Girl by Ginny Johnson. Music by Gordon Kibbey and your announcer is Ken Peters. The Anderson family is a Hollywood broadcaster's production transcribed from Hollywood.