 Your Coca-Cola bottler presents, Claudia. Claudia, based on the 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. Farmer gets the deed, the farmer gets the deed. I owe the dairy, oh, the farmer gets the deed. The farmer buys the house, the farmer buys the house. I owe the dairy, oh, the farmer buys the house. Doesn't anyone have anything to say for the farmer's wife? Didn't she got anything to say for herself? Only that she can't believe it. That's a farmer's wife for you, David, always doubting her ears. Her ears, of course. Let's just plow that one under. This is harrowing. Ouch, my mother. I never knew we could be so agricultural. I suppose it's a cinch when you only have to just talk about it. What else do we have to do except take the deed and hand over a certified check? Mr. Hagen said it would take such a long time, and it's only been a week. I couldn't believe it when we heard last night, and I still don't. I guess he didn't have much of a search after all. It was probably a very simple title. And it's a fine day for the closing. I wish you were simple enough so I could understand it. David, how many times have you explained what a deed is to that daughter of mine? Oh, hardly explained it at all, Mother. I don't think we went through it more than a dozen times. I still don't understand it. That just shows how complicated deeds are. Funny, I'd have drawn a completely different conclusion. All right, Mama, if you're so smart, you tell us what a deed is, and what a title is, and why we have to go to the courthouse. Well, well now, let me see what's the easiest way to explain it. I know what that means. It means you don't understand it any better than I do. Oh, just because I'm not like you would start talking before I've decided what I'm going to say. Anyway, I think men make it a lot more complicated than it really is. If it were so complicated, I don't see how Mr. Hankins was able to get it all straightened out so quickly. You'd like it to be complicated, wouldn't you? Why would I like that? Oh, you'd like to drag it on for months, months. Never know how it's going to come out. I wouldn't like that at all. I always like to know just where I stand. Yeah, especially if you're standing under a walnut tree that belongs to you instead of Jared Tucker. I guess that's what you wanted, another fight for a walnut tree. You really sure we aren't going to have this one? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, kid Claudia, but you might as well take off the gloves. There isn't going to be any more fighting. It's simply going to be what the lawyers call a closing. Maybe we shouldn't move up to Connecticut. They allow women to drive up here. Closing. What a funny word. It's just a lawyer's word. Nothing actually closes. I feel as though something's closing all right. I feel as though a door were closing on a whole section of my life. Listen to that, Mother. Doesn't she sound soulful? I wonder why they ever let her leave dramatic school. She sounds like Sarah Bernhardt saying goodbye to our public for the seventh time. I am saying goodbye to Fritz and Bertha in New York. And that funny little delicatessen store where we got the hot dogs for lunch on my birthday. And I'm saying hello to no milk on your doorstep in the morning and no Fritz to keep the radiators from making noise. And when you go to the office in the morning, no picking up the phone. And disturbing Lottie, and I love it. That's what land-owning means. You don't seem to realize that this is a very solemn occasion. You don't realize how much I realize. I realize it, too. And I'm going to celebrate it in a very solemn fashion. How, Mother? By singing, of course. Come on, David, give me the keys. The farmer left the town, the farmer left the town. I owe the dairy, oh, the farmer left the town. The farmer took his wife, the farmer took his wife. I owe the dairy, oh, the farmer took his wife. I don't think anybody's been here in 50 years, David. Look at the dust on everything. Listen to the stairs. They make practically as much noise as the house we're buying. I don't know why people say the country's so quiet. This isn't country. This is the biggest office building in Eastbrook Center. I think it's the only office building in Eastbrook Center. I wonder if Mr. Hankins has ever been up in an elevator. So there's his office. Rupert Hankins, counselor at law. What do you think it's going to be like inside? Oh, lots of old books and a dictionary on a stand and a green shade on the window. And a fan in the ceiling. And what are those shiny brass things in the corner under the chair? Exactly. Only it won't be shiny and brass. Well, take a deep breath. One, two, three. Who's there? It's us. We are the Nolkins. Well, I guess you might as well come in if that's who you are. David, it is brass. How's that? My wife said she was glad to see you. Maybe. Maybe she won't be so glad when she hears what's what. What's what? I'm trying to get you two on the telephone all morning. I guess you'd gone already. What's wrong now? You mean Jared Tucker wants more than his walnut tree? Nothing new said about a walnut tree. Maybe you and Mrs. Norton better sit down. We'll take this thing up the way it's supposed to be took up. Claudia, you sit down in that swivel chair and you know Mr. Hankins desk. I'll sit back here. What's the matter, young woman? Think that chair is dirty? Just a bit of healthy dust. You know how the ladies are, Mr. Hankins. They object to getting dust on their clothes. Trouble with people today. Too much afraid of dust, most of them. Spend most of the time running around just to keep them gathering it. Any worse things than gathering dust. Claudia, you'd better sit down. I did. Well, now we're ready. I guess we can get started. What's happened? What's wrong? Why don't we get the house? Nobody said that yet, maybe. Glad you hear, though. There's a hitch in the title. You mean Jared Tucker doesn't own that house after going through all this and throwing out the other bid and arguing about the Walnut Tree in the third place. He doesn't own it at all? He owns it, maybe, but he don't own it free and clear. Well, you'd better explain, Mr. Hankins. Good thing you had a good lawyer, Mr. Norton. Good thing you did. Yes, I appreciate that, Mr. Hankins. Doesn't Jared Tucker really own the house at all? Maybe he does. Maybe he doesn't. Mr. Hankins, I think we're prepared for the worst. I wish you would just go ahead and let us in on it. Well, sir, there are some lawyers who would notice a thing like this and some who wouldn't. Yes, Mr. Hankins. You in a hurry or something? Want to get back to New York City, maybe? Oh, we've got all day, Mr. Hankins, but we just assumed spend it doing something else. Maybe we can help to get it straightened out. You can't do nothing, Mr. Norton. Is it about the walnut tree? Claudia, Mr. Hankins already said it. It wasn't about the walnut tree. He hasn't said it was about anything else either. Mind if I smoke? No, we don't mind if you smoke. You can smoke, too, if you want to. I don't mind, either. You're very generous. Then there's some lawyers in this county who'd say, you're city people, and you ought to be left to take care of yourselves. Well, sir, you are city people. Maybe I know what they mean. But when it's a matter of the law, I say who you are and where you come from is irrelevant, immaterial, and impertinent. I was sure you felt that way, Mr. Hankins. How does he feel? And I'm not telling a client of mine to accept a defective and insufficient title. What's defective about it, Mr. Hankins? Mr. Norton, my fee for this service is $25, with disbursements of $3.75. Do you mean you want that now? I hope I don't have to go to New York for it. I'll write out a check for you. Will that be all right? Maybe it will. Well, isn't there anything we can do, Mr. Hankins? Here, the Jared Tucker has a clear title to his land, or he don't. If he don't, that's all there is to it. All right. Here's your check, Mr. Hankins. Now, please, tell us exactly what happened. Well, sir, when I search a title, I give it a real good search. You said that, Mr. Hankins. Are you in a hurry, Mrs. Norton? It seemed to me you said you had all day. Never mind her, Mr. Hankins. Well, sir. This land was deeded to Jared Tucker as sole survivor of his father, Stanton Tucker, in 1909. It came to Stanton Tucker from his maternal grandmother, Mehdable Ashley, in 1863. Mehdable Ashley had it from her father, Joseph Ashley, in 1840. Joseph Ashley had it from Martin Ashley in 1822. Martin Ashley had it from Cyrus Newton in 1806. Cyrus Newton had it from Caleb Matthews in 1798. And we don't have to go back any further than that. I should hope not. Because, as your attorney, I find that in the transfer from Caleb Matthews to Cyrus Newton on April 10, 1798, Caleb Matthews retained to himself his heirs and assigns the right in platoon to collect all the hay on the south meadow every year. And the claim was never quitted. What does that mean? It means that every summer the heirs of Caleb Matthews have a right to come on your south meadow and cut your hay without paying for it, and you can't stop them. Do they ever do it? They don't. But what's that matter? You know how many descendants Caleb Matthews must have by now, maybe? Ten thousand maybe. Rupert Hankins don't let his clients take that sort of a title without warning them first. Well, you've warned us, Mr. Hankins, but we'll go ahead with the deal any round and take our chances with the descendants of Caleb Matthews. That's up to you, Mr. Norton. Of course, they got no right to trespass across your land to get their hay. Just let them try. I'll show them whose land it is. Then the deal's on again anyway, Mr. Hankins. That ain't all. Know what? We said that Jared Tucker is a soul-surviving heir to his father's estate, but we can't prove it. Jared Tucker had a brother, and there ain't nobody can say for sure his brother's dead. You're sure you had a brother? I am. He went out west. No one knows what happened to him. We think he's dead, but we ain't sure. And Jared Tucker's land may belong to his brother? Maybe. There is no proof, no will, nothing? Never was probated. Then we might buy this land, and a lawn might come Jared's brother, and he wouldn't want to have it sold at all. That's right. Might even be some kind of a very sharp trick. Even if you are a city folks, I ain't gonna let you fall for it. Seems to me the lion at Tucker's awful anxious sale at house. I got a quick claim already. David, Jared Tucker isn't going to get away with it. But darling, we don't know that he's trying to get away with anything. All we know is that the title isn't clear, and we've got to decide if we want to take a chance. You don't. You said men fought for centuries to establish their right to own land. Well, you just watch me fight, Jared Tucker. Mr. Norton, I can see your wife don't know much about the law. Mr. Hankins, I can see your law don't know much about my wife. This broadcast of Claudio was supervised and directed by William Brown Maloney. Have a Coke says junior to the gang, and he doesn't have to wait for the answer. Have a Coke says dad to his gin rummy partner, and he gets an immediate nod. Have a Coke says mom to her bridge for some, and they pause refreshed in anticipation. Why not pause for a delicious ice-cold Coca-Cola right now? You'll be able to finish your housework refreshed. 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 au revoir. And remember, whoever you are, whatever you do, wherever you may be. When you think of refreshment, think of Coca-Cola. For ice-cold Coca-Cola makes any pause. The pause that refreshes.