 Mother, is Maxwell House the best coffee in the whole world? Well, your father says so, and your father knows best. See, it's Father Knows Best, transcribed in Hollywood, starring Robert Young as father. A half-hour visit with your neighbors, the Anderson's, brought to you by Maxwell House. The coffee that's bought and enjoyed by more people than any other brand of coffee at any price. Maxwell House, always good to the last drop. In the spring with all its splendor, all its birds and all its blossoms, all its flowers and leaves and grasses, and its sulfur and molasses. Of course, that's taking slight liberties with Mr. Longfellow and he-a-watha, but I'm sure you get the general idea. It's that lazy, easygoing time of year when it feels good just to sit around and, well, sit. Anyway, that's the way it is in Springfield, in a certain white frame house occupied by the Anderson's. Like this. Betty. Betty. Did you say something, Mother? What on earth are you doing? I'm washing the dishes. I know, but you've washed the same dish four times. Now stop daydreaming or you'll never get finished. Yes, Mother. Things away like you said, and I was just... Whatcha doing? I'm taking down kitchen curtains. What for? So I can wash them. Why? Betty, isn't there something else you have to do somewhere? I don't think so. Well, how about drying the dishes? Maybe there is something I have to do. You'll find a dry towel behind the kitchen door. Start on these, frog face. Okay. Mommy, doesn't Daddy feel well? Of course he feels well. Then why is he sitting in the den? Who, dear? Daddy. He isn't, Angel. He and Bud are out in the backyard in the den. Uh-huh. He and Bud. They're just sitting there. Well, we'll see about that. I'll be back in a minute, girls. Okay. Creepers. What a little snitcher you turned out to be. I'm not a little snitcher. All I did was ask for a bed. I don't know what's gotten into those two. If I don't keep after them every second. Jim. Jim. You want me, honey? Oh, you are in the den. I thought you and Bud were going out to beat the rugs. Uh, we were just resting for a minute, that's all. Hi, Bud. Jim Anderson, before you rest, you're supposed to do something. Well, we did. Didn't we, Bud? What? Didn't we? Didn't we what? Do something. Oh, sure. We carried the living room rug out. It's all ready to be beaten. It's heavy, too. Jim, one full hour ago, I asked you and Bud. Honey, you can't rush these things. You've got to be careful about them. After all, we've got good rugs, and we want to keep them that way. Don't we? It doesn't take an hour to carry one rug outside. Well, we were doing some research. Tell her about the magazine, Dad. Bud, would you please let me handle this my way? I told you. Well, I thought maybe you forgot. But I expressly told you in the very beginning. What magazine? It isn't important, Margaret. Bud and I were merely looking through some old magazines, and, well, it isn't important. You said it'd get us out of beating the rugs. Fine. Jim, if you mean that idiotic article on the care of carpets. Honey, it is not an idiotic article. It was written by an expert. And he said you should never beat a rug. That's what he said. He said, since when does a man know anything about cleaning anything? But, Margaret, this man's in the rug business. And he says... My grandmother, Williams, knew more about cleaning a house in two minutes than he knows in ten years. And she always beat her rugs. The man says that beating a rug does more harm than good. It breaks all the, well, whatever it's gotten back. Doesn't it, Bud? Hmm? Doesn't it? You bet, Dan. I bet what? Uh, you bet. Jim, my grandmother, Williams... Your grandmother, Williams didn't have a vacuum cleaner. Of course not. They hadn't even been invented. But if they had been invented... She still wouldn't have used one. Why not? Because they didn't have any electricity. Bud. Yes, Dan? Give me a hand with a rug. But you said... Never mind what I said. It'll be easier to beat the rugs. I'm in the den, Betty. Come on, Bud. Roll it up and we'll carry it out. Holy cow. Hey, Mother, I just thought of the most horrible thing. What if it's too cold for my yellow formal? Dear, it's no problem at all. You can always wear the blue one. Again? But, Mother... Lift your feet, will you, Betty? You're standing on the rug. Mother, how can I possibly wear that old thing? Don't think it's the only winter formal I have. Well, it is, isn't it? That's what makes it so awful. But hurry up with that rug before something else happens. Want to help me lift the desk? Uh... Just a second. Let's try explaining it once more. Margaret. Jim. If you and Bud are too lazy to beat a few small rugs... Small? Bud, please. Let me handle it. But she said small. Margaret, it is not a question of laziness. Bud and I are perfectly willing and anxious to do our share of the work around here. Heh. What was that? I didn't say anything, Father. She said, heh. Look, Betty, if you're unhappy with the way this household is being operated... Jim, are you or are you not going to beat the rugs? I'm trying to explain to you. The man said... Daddy! All right, Bud, grab the other side of the desk. But aren't you going to tell Mom what the man said? In this house, who can remember what anyone said? Grab the desk. Holy cow. Daddy, a man just came to the back door. Do you know what he was selling? I don't care what he was selling. Are you ready, Bud? Okay. Lift. Boy, that's heavy. Kathy, I've already told you. I don't care what he was selling. Get off the rug. Will you squirt? I have to roll it up. Jim, it won't hurt for her to tell you. Margaret, if you want us to beat the rugs... All right, Kathy, what was he selling? Swimming pools. Fine, we'll take five or six... What? Oh, Daddy, we need a swimming pool. Can't we please get one? Honey, feel her head and see if she's all right. Kathy, are you sure? Lots of people have swimming pools, and I don't see why we can't have one. Mother, if I have to wear the blue formal again, can't I please take the shoulders off? Betty, the phone is ringing. I know, but all the other girls are wearing them without shoulders, and that's the least you can let me do. Betty, your mother asked you to answer the phone, and anything else can wait until... Pardon me, Dad, you're on the rug. Keep the rug alone for a minute. Would you set to roll it up? I said to... Betty, the phone! It only has two little straps anyway, and if I... I don't know. And it's red. What is? The swimming pool. Margaret, I think I'll go upstairs and lie down. You just got up. A man going around selling red swimming pools. All right, bud, let's get the rug outside. I just thought of something. What if it rains? It isn't going to rain. You can't be too sure, Margaret. Why don't we wait a few hours and see? Jim? Grab the rug, bud. I just thought of something else. What if... bud? You want me to take this end, Dad? Either one, they're both the same. There's a lot of writing on the back. But if you're going to take that end, you've got to turn around the other way. What for? So you can see where you're going. Or aren't you interested? Oh, I never thought of that. Did you? Did I what? See an envelope with a lot of writing on it. Betty, can't you see I'm busy? Your mother insists on having the rugs beaten. All right, bud, pick it up. Now? Yes, now. Okay. Who was that on the phone, Betty? Oh, I forgot. Father, Mr. Phillips wants to talk to you. That's nice. Just any time you get around to it. Oh, I'm sorry, Father. I happened to think of Janie because that's who I thought it would be. And she needs the information I wrote on the back of the envelope. And then I remembered I'd forgotten where it was. That's all, huh? I think so. Oh, there was one other thing. Mr. Phillips said to tell you he was in a hurry. Thank you, Miss Amnesia of 1951. Bye, that's the front door. I can't go, Dad. I'm holding the rug. I'll enter it, Daddy. He's holding the rug. Now, there's a great excuse for you. Hello, George. Oh, I'm sorry it took so long, but Betty, this afternoon? No, I don't think so, George. I know, but George, I don't feel like playing golf. I just want to sit around and take it easy. Daddy! Hold on a second, George. Kathy, can't you see I'm on the phone? Daddy, there's another man at the door and he says... We don't want any. But he says it'll only take a minute... Kathy, tell him we don't want any and tell him to go away. No matter what it is? No matter what it is. Even if it's a swimming pool? Especially if it's a swimming pool. Gee whiz, I never get anything. You'll get plenty if you don't stop that complaining. Gee whiz. I'm sorry, George, but no, honestly, George, I haven't the strength to swing a golf club today. I really haven't. Okay, George, thanks for calling. Sure, we'll do it some other time. So long, George. I wouldn't go around a golf course today if they carried me piggyback. Jim, I think you'd better come in here. Yes, dear. Fine thing. I'm too tired to play golf and I've got to beat rugs. Father, I'm awfully sorry. Give him the letter, Betty. Give me what letter? I didn't know it was important. And anyway, I forgot all about it. Betty found the letter on which she made her notes. Good. Now is everybody happy? They are. They won't be for long. The letter's from Mr. Gribble and it's for you. What? It was next to the telephone, Father, and I didn't know it hadn't been opened. Give me that letter. I thought you'd already seen it and I didn't think... It isn't bad enough to have a son who steals all my neckties. Now I've got a daughter who hides my mail. Jumping creepers. I sent the man away, Daddy, and he said to tell you... Holy jumpin' catfish, do you know what this letter is? It's only the key to $20,000 worth of insurance. Why, Jim... Listen to this, dear Jim, my friend Floyd Miller is here at my hunting lodge, but he expects to be in Springfield a week from Saturday. I know you generally don't go to your office on weekends, but remember to give him your home address. He wants you to help him set up an insurance schedule and I feel that an additional $20,000 policy... Betty, do you realize what you almost did? I'm sorry, Father, I didn't do it on purpose. Thank goodness it's next Saturday. The way this house looks today. Dad... Wait a minute. The letter's dated April... Betty, when did this letter arrive? About a week ago. A week ago? Oh, Betty! It's this Saturday. He'll be here today. Jim, what are we going to do? I don't know, but if anything like this... Oh, my gosh, the man at the door. Oh, dear. Dad... Kathy, did the man say he was selling anything? You mean like swimming pools? Like anything. I don't know. He just said he wanted to see you about some business. Jim, where are you going? Don't you understand? That was Mr. Miller. I've got to stop him. Dad... What is it? Now can I put down the rug? Oh, no. What wouldn't he give to have things work out right just as once? Oh, well, ladies, there are lots of things after all about which the head of the house is right every time. For example, the best judge of truly fine coffee is your husband, the world's greatest coffee expert. Now, people often call us experts, too, because more families buy our Maxwell House coffee than any other brand. When you brew coffee for your husband, he's the only expert you want to please. And tomorrow, if you'll serve him a cup of wonderfully good Maxwell House, we promise you he'll practically purr with pleasure and say, Boy, that's grand coffee. We're so certain he'll say that. We'll return your money if he doesn't. Yes, that world-famous good to the last drop flavor is sure to please him. And it's a flavor you enjoy only with Maxwell House. You see, Maxwell House has the one and only recipe for it. That recipe demands certain extra flavor coffees, blended and roasted to perfection. No coffee tastes like Maxwell House because no coffee is made like Maxwell House. Tomorrow, then, pour a cup of fragrant Maxwell House for your husband. If he doesn't say best coffee ever, just send us the can and unused portion, and we'll gladly refund every penny you paid. Our address is right on every familiar blue tin. Yes, let your coffee expert decide. Serve that man of yours. Coffee with the most in flavor. Maxwell House coffee. Always good to the last drop. It's moments later, and the walk outside the White Frame House on Maple Street is full of Anderson. Big Anderson's, Little Anderson's, Medium-sized Anderson. They're all involved in a gay little game called Button Button. Who's got Mr. Miller? Fascinating, isn't it? Kathy, you've got to help us. You're the only one who even saw him. So who? Mr. Miller. Oh, Angel, think hard. Did he have a car? I don't know. Was there a car parked in front of the house? I don't know. Don't you know anything? I don't know. What a little dope. I didn't lose the letter. That's telling us, Squirt. You keep out of it. Well, stop picking on him. Kathy, try to think. When he left the house, did Mr. Miller walk over to a car? Jim, wouldn't it be easier to call Mr. Gribble? Honey, you can't call Mr. Gribble. You remember that rat trap he calls a hunting lodge? No lights, no phone, no water? No. What? He didn't. Who didn't what? Mr. Miller. He didn't walk over to a car. I just remembered. Well, now we're getting somewhere. He ran down to the corner. He ran? Jimmy Woody's dog chased him. Oh, fine. How to make friends and influence customers. Dad, maybe if I get on my bicycle. Just a minute, bud. We don't even know what he looks like. Gosh, that's right. Was he a tall man, Kathy? Well, pretty tall. That's a big help. What's pretty tall? Five feet, six feet, seven feet? Five feet. Seven feet? Let's just forget about that. Was he wearing a coat? Oh, sure. And pants, too. I mean, was he wearing a top coat? I don't think so. All right. So far, we know he's a man between five and seven feet tall wearing a coat and pants. Do you remember what color his suit was? Oh, sure. It was sort of a bluish-brown. Now, there's a great description if I ever heard of it. Well, it was kind of blue. How about his eyes? Oh, he had those all right. I mean the color, dopey. Betty, if she can't remember the color of a man's suit, how do you suppose... I remember his eyes, Daddy. They were brown. Not bluish-brown? Oh, no. I remember because he looked just like somebody we know. He did? Who? What? Who did he look like? I don't remember. Try hard, Angel, please. Oh, I remember. He looked just like the Hathaway's Cocker Spaniel. I guess that takes care of that. Jimmy, he couldn't have gone very far. That's right, Dad. He only left here a couple of minutes ago. I know, but which way did he go? He went that way. Betty. I'm sorry, Father. It slipped out. I couldn't help it. You can't help anything these days, can you? I don't do any good to stand out here and argue. All right, let's go inside and argue. I have a better idea. Kathy. Yes, Mommy? Suppose you run down to the bus stop and see if Mr. Miller's there. Okay. Margaret. Go ahead, Kathy. If he's there, do you want me to bring him back? Yes. Alive, if possible. But you can ride up and down all the cross streets and see if you can find anyone who... well... Looks like the Hathaway's Cocker Spaniel. Jim, we're doing this for you. And I'm very grateful. Go ahead, bud. Say, I've got a great idea. I'll get the fellas to help me. Fine. If you see anybody wearing a coat and a pair of pants, ask him if his name is Floyd Miller. Okay, Dad. We'll make the Northwest Mounties look sick. Well... What? Where do I go? You don't have to answer that. I didn't intend to. All right, Betty. Hmm? You and I are going inside and straightening up the house. The papers, we just got it pulled apart. Margaret, you don't think there's any possibility of their finding a man? Hey. No, what? There's a taxi. Maybe he saw Miller. Hey, taxi! Taxi! Come along, Betty. What a family. Nothing ever goes right. Taxi! Yes, sir. You want a cab, mister? Not exactly. You see, we're looking for... you didn't have to see a man in a... well, a bluish-brown suit, did you? A what? Well, my daughter's the only one who saw him, and she said... Mister, I almost broke my neck getting over here, and you just want to ask me questions? Oh, no. I'll be glad to pay you for your trouble. You see, we're trying to find a man named Floyd Miller. He came to the house, but we didn't know who he was, and I told my daughter... You, uh, don't want a cab, huh? No. You see, I got a letter from a client of mine, J.P. Gribble, and he said... Where? So now they're hiring cowboys to drive the taxis in Springfield. Isn't that nice? Uh-uh. Oh, hello, officer. I was just telling the driver... I'll be telling him a few things myself. Could I see your license, please? What did I do? Officer, I'd like to explain... Just a second, please. What was that you said? I didn't do nothing. What did I do? Let's see now. Outside, I'm making a U-turn, exceeding the speed limit, and parking on the wrong side of the street. I can't think of a thing. Well, sure... Officer, if you'll just let me explain... Man, will you hear what I did? I got eight guys. Well, I was talking to the officer. But I have to tell you, I broke the whole neighborhood up into districts. I was in an organization. And I told him to stop everybody who looks like a cock-a-spaniel. Hi, cohort. Officer, you see, we're trying to find a man... I'll see you later, Dad. I got to keep going. Officer, uh, you've heard of J.P. Gribble. Now, wait a minute. What was that about a cock-a-spaniel? Well, that's what he looks like. Who? Floyd Miller. You see, he came to the house, and my daughter thought he was selling swimming pools. Oh, she did. Tell him about the bluish-brown suit. You keep out of this. Well, that's what the guy said. Get out of here before I run you in. Yes, sir. Oh, wait a minute. That's not what he meant. Now, look what you've done. I'm awfully sorry, but all I did was... Father, come in here. We found him. You did? Mother talked to Mrs. Gribble on the phone. Officer, I've got to go inside. You stay right here. But why? What did I do? Nothing. Nobody ever does anything in my beach. I'll be right in, Betty. Well, hurry. Well, I ever do. Where is he? What did Mrs. Gribble say? Isn't it wonderful? Mother had a hunch and called her, and she gave Mother the phone number. Honey, you're a genius. I've been telling you that for years. Remind me to kiss you later. I'll do that. Now, hurry up and make the call. It's Rock Falls 235 Ring 6. Margaret, I'd love you even if you weren't rich. Oh, you just say that. Long distance is 113. Thank you very much. Well, I was just trying to help. Hello, long distance? Rock Falls 235 Ring 6. Honey, I... Oh, no, not you, Operator. I want Rock Falls 235 Ring 6. Thank you. Isn't it exciting? Who do I ask for? Mr. Miller or Mr. Gribble? Mr. Finch. Mr. Who? Finch, like a bird. Who is Mr. Finch? He's a farmer who lives a mile away from the Gribble's lodge. And whenever he goes by, he delivers messages. Oh, that's a great help. Well, it's certainly better than nothing. No, I suppose... Hello? Oh, well, thank you very much. What did you say, Jim? The circuits are busy. Oh, fine. Dad, we found him. We found him. Dad, you'll hurt yourself. We found Mr. Miller. We found him. Take it easy, son. Let's not get all excited. Now, where did you find him? Cassie found him waiting for the bus. Creepers! He'll be here any second. I just knew. Wait a minute. Where are you going? I have to stop the fella. Bud! You're paying them five cents a block. I... Well, hurry up! I'll be back. Five cents a block, eight boys. This can cost me a fortune. Margaret, maybe I better go help Bud round them up. You'll stay right here and round up the rugs. But, honey, we can't possibly get them... Holy jumping catfish. I haven't shaved. Well, you're not going to shave now. You take care of the rugs while Betty and I put curtains back in the kitchen windows. Honey, there isn't any... Come along, Betty. Yes, Mother. Margaret, he isn't going into the kitchen. He might. Rugs. How can I get the rugs? Daddy! Well... Hello, Mr. Anderson. Come right in. Thank you. Daddy, I found him waiting for the bus. Just like Mommy said. I know, kid. And Bud told us all about it. Well, I'm certainly glad Kathy was able to find you. That's quite all right, Mr. Anderson. I was only two half. Kathy, why don't you go into the kitchen and see if you can't help Mommy? Can't I even listen? This will be just business, kitten. It wouldn't interest you at all. Now, run along like a good girl. Gee whiz. I ain't never get to do anything. She's a sweet child, isn't she? Yes, she, uh... I hope you'll forgive the way the house looks. It's, uh... Well, you know how it is with spring cleaning. Oh, yes. Happens every year, doesn't it? It sure does. You know, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Oh? I think you'll get a kick out of this. We thought you were selling swimming pools. Swimming pools? Isn't that the silliest thing you ever heard? Well, it certainly is. Swimming pools. Well, I suppose we might as well get down to business, huh? All right, Mr. Anderson. I represent the little giant potato peeler. I want to give you a demonstration of the finest kitchen aid this world has ever known. Oh, no. This is a one-piece solid steel, rust-proof, tarnish-proof, pool-proof kitchen gadget. When you buy coffee for your family this week, and you'll be looking for the best value, and in coffee, that automatically means the best flavor. For after all, the enjoyment of truly fine flavor is what you really want from coffee. So take home the one coffee that's famous the world over for flavor, our Maxwell House coffee, in the familiar blue tin with the big white cup and drop. Then let your husband, the world's greatest coffee expert, enjoy that famous flavor. When he smiles and says, best coffee ever, you'll know Maxwell House is your coffee. And value? Well, count for yourself all the wonderfully satisfying cups you get from each pound. Yes, for coffee that gives you your money's worth and more in superbly delicious flavor, always choose Maxwell House. Coffee that's always good. To the last drop. It's later now in the hectic day, and the Anderson household is a buzz of springtime activity. Bud is busy beating rugs. Kathy is busy waxing tables. Margaret and Betty are busy with the curtains and drapes. And Jim, well, he's busy with the phone. Like this. Operator, we canceled the call to Rock Falls. I know, but... but... Oh, they're calling us. I beg your pardon. Yes, I'm ready. Thank you. Hello? Hello, JP. How are you? Well, that's fine. Oh, sure, I got your letter. No, there wasn't any, uh... He what? Oh. Well, sure, I understand. Okay, JP. Not at all. See you next week. Thank you, JP. Goodbye. Who was it, dear? It was Gribble. It was? What on earth did he want? Oh, he, uh... He just wanted to tell me about Floyd Miller, that's all. What about Mr. Miller? Well, it seems that he's going to stay at the lodge for another week. There isn't anything wrong, is there? Oh, no, he just sprained his back beating Gribble's rugs. Folks, Gainzy, the famous talking dog always says... Gain's meal! What about Gain's meal, Gainzy? Nourishes every inch of a dog, it sure does. Kennel and laboratory tests prove Gain's meal supplies balanced nourishment your dog needs for good health. Yet Gain's costs less to feed than any other type of dog food. So, folks, get Gain's meal. Dog, dog, dog! America's largest selling dog food. Join us again next week when we'll be back with Father Knows Best, starring Robert Young, is Jim Anderson, with Roy Bargy and the Maxwell House Orchestra. In our cast, where Ted Donaldson is bugged, June Whitley, Rhoda Williams, Norma Jean Nielsen, Jack Boyle's, Jerry Hausner, and yours truly, Bill Foreman. So until next Thursday, good night and good luck from the makers of Maxwell House, America's favorite brand of coffee. Always good to the last drop. Father Knows Best was transcribed in Hollywood and written by Ed James. Now stay tuned in for Dragnet, which follows immediately over most of these stations. Dragnet is the story of your police force in action. Hear it on NBC.