 Now, Anacin, the tablets thousands of physicians and dentists recommend for a fast relief of pain of headache, neuritis, neuralgia, and heat. The liniment that's strong yet does not burn. Present Armist Brooks, starring Eve Arden. Time once again for another comedy episode of Armist Brooks transcribed. But first, today many thousands of people are thankful to their physicians or dentists for first having introduced them to that remarkable preparation called Anacin, which brings such incredibly fast and effective relief from the pains of headaches, neuritis, and neuralgia. Anacin is like a doctor's prescription. That is, Anacin contains not just one, but a combination of medically proven active ingredients in easy to take tablet form. Thus, in using Anacin, you are following sound principles. So, I'll ask for Anacin at your drug counter next time you suffer pains from headaches, neuritis, or neuralgia. Try these tablets on this guarantee. If you don't feel Anacin gives you all the relief you want, as fast as you want it, your money will be refunded. Easy to take Anacin tablets are available everywhere in handy boxes of 12 and 30 and economical family size bottles of 50 and 100. I will repeat the name for you, Anacin, A-N-A-C-I-N. Well, our Miss Brooks, who teaches English at Madison High School, has often heard the old expression, money is the root of all evil. And if it's true, I should be wearing a halo. Any day now, I expect my bank to report me to the Bureau of Missing Persons. Last Thursday, I happened to mention my financial predicament to my landlady at breakfast. I don't know what to do, Mrs. Davis. I simply can't save any money. Well, it's just as well, dear. Money is the root of all evil. I know. Which reminds me, Connie, you owe me 48 and a half evils. I mean dollars. Your rent is past due. Let's not live in the past, Mrs. Davis. I'd be happy to pay you if I had the money. You know that. Well, of course I do. Let's forget all about money and discuss something pleasant. Summer's just ahead, Connie. Where are you going to spend your vacation? Well, I thought I'd pack all my clothes and go to the Riviera. The Riviera? That's a pawn shop on the other side of town. Sam Riviera runs it. Well, if I were in your spot, I'd try to get a job with the Deacon. The Deacon? Deacon Jones. His square dance troupe was playing town hall this week. My goodness, you should hear that old Deacon swing out on his crazy mixed-up fiddle. Oh, yes, now I recall the name. Isn't he the fellow who builds himself the hillbilly hyphens? That's the chap. I don't know about you, Connie, but I dig that kind of music. Well, when you're through digging, bury it for me, will you? Believe me, that man makes nothing but money. I thought of you when I read the big ad he ran in yesterday's paper. What did he say? Well, he's planning a long tour this summer, and since some of his troupe have children traveling with him, he'd like to hire some school teachers to go along. To tutor the hillbilly kids? Exactly. According to the ad, the teachers would also have to entertain a bit and sort of meet the children on their own ground. Wherever that is. You know what I think, Mrs. Davis? I think the Deacon has snapped his mental G-string. All the absurd ideas. The salary offered is $500 a month. $500? Well, I don't know about you, Mrs. Davis, but I dig that kind of money. If I could spend just one month with his troupe, I could afford the best vacation. Oh, no. Not with a square dance troupe. I'm sorry, but Mother didn't raise her girl to docy-doe. Well, you do as you please, dear. It was just a suggestion. Oh, there's Walter Denton to drive me to school. Come in, Walter. Greetings, ladies. Form a line. A nickel of kiss and my lips are divine. Hello, Walter. Pull up a chair. Ain't no food. The cupboard's bare. Why the square dance greeting, Walter? Oh, I'm on a hill, Billy. Kick, Mrs. Davis. When I was in the mall shop with some kids last night, we turned on the radio and got town hall. We danced for one solid hour to the music of Deacon Jones. Miss Brooks, I have news. If you'd like to earn $500 a month this summer, there's an ad. Mrs. Davis told me about the Deacon's ad, Walter, and I'm not interested. Okay, okay. So maybe Mr. Boyden would be interested. The way he's been cutting down expenses lately, he could probably use that money. As soon as we get to school, I think you should try to talk him into it. I should talk him into it. Wouldn't that be a little presumptuous? No. Yeah, maybe you're right. I really think a job like that would be a great experience for you, Miss Brooks, but, you know, I can see where it might not be so hot for Mr. Boyden. I mean, after all, he's a single guy. He wouldn't know anyone in the troupe but you. You have to spend all his time with you. Night after night. Just like being married. Traveling around. Night after night. Like I say, as soon as we get to school, I'll try to talk him into it. Good morning, Mr. Boyden. I'd like to talk to you for a moment before class begins. Certainly, Miss Brooks. Come on in. Mr. Boyden, does the name Deacon Jones mean anything to you? Just that he's been visiting local high schools in search of school teachers to tour the backwoods country with his troupe at a salary of $500 a month, and that while he was at Henry Clay High yesterday, he announced that our school will be one of his stops this afternoon. Never heard of him, huh? Well, that's fair to Midland Money for a nice, soft job, don't you think? I wouldn't say it's soft. The guy told me the Deacon said he'll only employ teachers who are capable of doubling in his show, preferably teachers who have a rural background and who could make the hillbillies feel at home. In other words, he's looking for a cross between Albert Schweitzer and Spade Cooley. Brainy but homespun. Well, that's about it. Naturally, I've given up all hope of landing a job like that. But why? Why? Well, you must be kidding, Miss Brooks. Gosh. Oh, shucks. I wouldn't know how to act like a hayseed. You wouldn't have to act. With a little rehearsing, it would become natural. I really think a long trip through those hills would do you a world of good, not to mention me. You, Miss Brooks, surely you couldn't pass yourself off as a rural character? For $500, I could out Judy Canova. Yeah, that's a lot of money, all right. I'll tell you what, Miss Brooks. I've got a book of very witty, minstrel jokes down in my locker. Now, let's meet here in my lab during lunch hour, and we'll rehearse some of those jokes. I'll be here with bells and a gas mask. Oh, good morning, Mr. Conklin. Good morning, sir. At ease, but remain alert. Miss Brooks, Mr. Boynton, as you know, the Board of Education recently distributed general exam papers for the purpose of conducting a comparative survey to determine faculty efficiency in the schools in this area. Yes, sir. A total of seven high schools participated in the test, and Mr. Stone, the head of the board, just called to tell me the results. Oh, where did our school come in, sir? Dead last, ma'am. My heart goes out to our students in this hour of shame, Miss Brooks. The blame for their abysmal showing in the test must, of course, be laid at the doorstep of our teachers. But, Mr. Conklin... Good students are made not born. The failure of our students actually reflects the shocking inability of you teachers to cram some knowledge into their thick... into their willing mind. Henceforth, I'll permit no faculty fraternizing during school hours, and I shall now tack a notice on the bulletin board to that effect. That will be all. Goodbye, Mr. Conklin. Bye, sir. Gosh, if we're forbidden to fraternize, we won't be able to rehearse before Deacon Jones comes over this afternoon. Not here in the lab, at least. I know, Mr. Boynton. We'll go underground. Underground? We'll meet in the supply room downstairs. Mr. Conklin hasn't been there in weeks. Well, it's risky, but we'll just have to chance it. After all, our entire summer is at stake. $500. And a whole month in each other's company, Mr. Boynton. You and me, traveling from city to city, just the two of us, just think of those nights. What a heck with the nights. Think of those days sightseeing. Searching for curious fossils in strange places? I think I've found mine. Friends, when agonizing pain of rheumatism, muscle strain, or backache makes you miserable, and every move is a torment, that's the time to reach for heat. H-E-E-T, heat, the liniment that's strong yet does not burn. The moment you apply it, you can feel heat soothing warmth working to relieve your painful miseries. That's because heat penetrates deep, brings immediate relief to sore aching muscles. Wherever you ache, just brush on heat. Heat penetrates deep, keeps working for hours to bring wonderful soothing comfort to the painful aching area. Your pain seems to disappear. Heat isn't oily, sticky, or messy. You just brush on heat with a handy applicator that comes with each bottle, and it dries in seconds. So remember, when pain of rheumatism, muscle strain, or backache makes you miserable, heat penetrating warmth gives you fast, long-lasting relief. Get heat, H-E-E-T, heat, the liniment that penetrates deep to bring immediate relief. Well at noon, in direct violation of Mr. Conklin's anti-fratonizing edict, I stealthily scurried down to the supply room for a clandestine meeting with Mr. Boynton, our purpose being to rehearse ourselves into a rural mood for the impending arrival of Deacon Jones, the hillbilly hyphens. I wrapped gently, and in a moment the creaky door was opened, not by Mr. Boynton, as I expected, but by Mr. Conklin's daughter. Enter, friend. Harriet. It's all right, Miss Brooks. You know all about your crazy, mixed-up scheme. Who squealed? Oh, nobody. But while you and Mr. Boynton were cooking up your plot in his lab this morning, I happened to be right outside watering his window plant, and I overheard. You and your crazy, mixed-up long year. Did you tell anyone what you overheard? Oh, not a living soul. Just Walter Denton. He wants to try to land a job with the Deacons' troop, too, Miss Brooks. He's sure his father will give him permission to leave home for a month. Permission? His father would probably swap him for an undernourished tapeworm. Look, Harriet, if you say a word about all this to your dad, you'll spoil everything. He'd be furious. Oh, he'd be jealous, too. About that $500 a month job, I mean. Last week Mother cut Daddy's allowance, Miss Brooks, and she said he won't be able to go anywhere on his vacation unless he earns some extra money to pay for it. Golly, it looks as if poor Daddy was in town all summer. Hold it, Harriet. Who goes there? A member of the Underground. Who? Walter Denton, the vagabond lover. Come on in, Rudy. Look, Miss Brooks, I brought three tambourines. For you, me, and Mr. Boynton. Partner? Yo, hi, Harriet. Oh, isn't it exciting, Walter? I just can't wait to see Deacon Jones in person, with a name like the Deacon, I'll bet he looks real dignified. Hold it. Who goes there? It's Mr. Boynton. Hey, what's in the box, Mr. Boynton? Some minstrel show and square dance material, Walter. I'll have it open in a second. I was hoping it was food. I haven't had lunch yet. Oh, I'll be glad to get some sandwiches for us, Miss Brooks. Oh, that's very nice of you, Harriet. Don't mention it. I'll be back in a little while. Look at this, Miss Brooks. A big book of minstrel jokes and a beautiful banjo. Just listen to this tone. Gee, Dad, it's a whirlitzer. When I pick my dog has fleas on the banjo like that, Miss Brooks, we spring our first humorous anecdote. You can read it right from the book. Here you are. Thanks. What's that you played on the banjo, Mr. Interlocutor? My dog has fleas. Funny kind of a dog. My dog has pups. Oh, no. How corny can you get? Like your attitude, Walter. I thought that was pretty nifty. Now, let's get down to some serious rehearsing, Miss Brooks. Now, you read some of those jokes aloud. Meanwhile, I'll sit here with the banjo on my knee. Why not put me on your knee and let the banjo tell those jokes? I memorized the best ones, I think, so I'll coach you. Now, listen. First, I say... First, I say... I just know this one will break me up. First, I say... You don't have to tell me off anymore. I consider myself told. Uh-huh. Then you say, if you're told, why don't you put on your itty-bitty overdose? Not for $5,000. Come on, Miss Brooks. We'll never land those jobs with Deacon Jones if he don't practice. Now, put a twang in your voice. Sure, it's not hard, Miss Brooks. If we're gonna convince the Deacon that we have a rural background, we've got a sound like hillbillies. Well, all right. I don't... Why, Harriet got those sandwiches pretty fast. Is that you, Harriet? No, but you're close. Holy cow! Well, Miss Brooks, now I see how my faculty piffles away its time. Small wonder my students romped off with the booby prize in the comparative survey tests. Well, I have a little bulletin for you. When Mr. Stone called me with those results this morning, he also informed me that the inspector of the State Board of Education is due in town. If he hears of this incident... Well, why should he hear of it, sir? We were merely rehearsing in the hope that we might land a job with Deacon Jones in the summer. There can be no possible explanation, Boynton. It pays $500 a month. That is neither here nor $500? Yes, sir. Hmm. Get another tambourine, Walter. We have a new end man. Our Miss Brooks will return in a moment. If you're planning an early space hop to the moon or elsewhere in the outer universe, plan to travel light. Anywhere else you go this summer, go with radio. There's almost no place on earth you can walk, ride, fly or sail where radio can travel along with you. For the corner shelf of a summer cottage, there's a lightweight model that's perfect in every detail. For those hikes on the hills, those afternoons on the beach, those excursions to the backyard hammock, there's a portable that'll add plenty of entertainment to the occasion. If you're chugging along the highway with family omnibus, there's a car radio to keep you company on the open stretches or in the bottlenecks. When you're on the move or away from home, there's a radio for every purpose. And keep in mind, when it comes to programs, America listens most to CBS Radio, the stars address. That's because CBS Radio has the most of the best. In popular stars, in popular entertainment, in authoritative news broadcasts, in everything America likes to hear. So when you go, go with radio. Go with CBS Radio, where America listens most. Well, the possibility of a $500 a month job was something too good for the Madison High faculty to resist, even if it meant traveling with a Hill-Billy band. However, while Miss Brooks was preparing for the arrival of Deacon Jones, in another section of town, the head of the Board of Education, Mr. Stone, was entertaining a more forbidding visitor. My secretary has returned from lunch now, Mr. Jones. I'll make arrangements for your transportation immediately. Thank you, Mr. Stone. Oh, Dorothy, I've been honored by a visit from the Inspector of the State Board, Mr. Matthew Jones. Please see that a car is placed at his disposal immediately. Now then, sir, we have switched the side of your address to our board members and the PTA this evening. Fortunately, Town Hall became available at the last moment. Yes, it seemed some Hill-Billy jazz band encountered rent trouble. They fled the city this morning. I see. I should like to include in my address some facts concerning the comparative survey your board conducted recently. Frankly, I'm interested in the low scores rather than the high ones. Well, the bottom mark was posted by Madison High. I have Madison's test figures right here on my desk if you'd care to examine them, sir. Yes, thanks. I would. Hmm. Disgraceful. Absolutely shocking. Just look at these individual scores. Walter Denton, 14%. Well, that boy must be a blithering idiot. Either that or he has idiots teaching him. Whose principal at Madison High? Mr. Conklin, Osgood Conklin. Rather a pompous man, but I believe he has some of the most brilliant teachers in the city, Mr. Jones. Is that I'd like to see for myself. Hello. Is Mr. Conklin in? Oh, I'm sorry. He stepped out of the office just a few minutes ago, but he ought to be back pretty soon, Mr. ... Jones. You're Deacon Jones. You what's that? Oh, please make yourself comfortable, sir. Excuse me. What's your rush, Harriet? She's here, and I guessed right. Miss Brooks, he's very dignified looking. Who is? Deacon Jones. He's waiting in Daddy's office. I'd better pass the word. Excuse me. Well, the Deacon. Move over, Daisy May. Here I come. Oh, hello. Well, fry my chitlins if it ain't Cousin Jones. I didn't know nobody was in here else. I wouldn't have come busting in like I done did, Savvy. I teach his English in this here institution. You're an English teacher? Ain't nothing else but. My name's Miss Brooks. Care for a chaw of hogs liver? Thank you, no. Just how long have you been teaching, Miss Brooks? Oh, a heap of years. And believe me, I get a kick out of learning them kids. Only thing is, I kind of miss the folks back home. The folks in the hills. I'm sure a hankering to be back with my people. You may get your hanker sooner than you think. Honest and true, you mean it? I sure do, honey child. Oh, hi there, Mr. Barton. I'd wrap my Mickey Mouse pen knife. I can't find a darn thing nowhere. Here is a biology teacher. A what? Biology teacher. B-I-O-L-L-T-B-I-O. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven. Amazing. Hey, Mr. Boynton, do you always walk around school in your bare feet? Oh, shucks, no. He's only in his bare feet because he's trying to find his pen knife. Can't pick up nothing with his fingers. Bites his nails, you know. Bites his nails? Can't scratch worth a lick, but it's great for petting possums. Here's one of our pew pills. Howdy! I've suddenly ducked into a little... This here is Walter Denton. Innaturally. You just call me Walter. W-A-A-L-C-W-L-C-N-L-W-A. You just call me Zeke. Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. Fun for Mr. Boynton. He's got eleven. I feel a bit weak. You mind if I sit down? Well, dog, my catch-up and we ain't got crampons. Dirty shirt, it's my wife's turn to wear the clean one. This year's our principal. Principal? This? This is Mr. Conklin. You just call me Big Fat Lovable Hezekiah. But we're just plain down-to-earth folks here. Hill folk. Yeah, indeedy. Minutes of time, like now, we like to be get our classrooms and chores, and as I pick up my old banjoes. Yeah, now, just a minute. And as I pick up my old banjoes. Yeah, put that thing down. We ain't think of the folks back home and drift into song land. Come and see at by Marmastar I could dance with a grizzly bar. This is incredible. I do not hasten to be Kiss like a glutton, play in trumpet, fine array, hutton. Dance with Louise, I'll get a run in my BVD. I just don't believe. Of the silver screen, but whatever happened to Bobby Breen? Hand me my shoes. I understand that these fugitives from Tobacco Road are members of Madison's... Run along, Deacon Jones. Deacon? What are you talking about, Miss Brooks? This happens to be Matthew Jones, Inspector for the State Board of Education. Lovable Hezekiah. Hector for the State Board. That's right. Now speak up. What do you have to say for yourselves? Just what will it do to speak? We are plainly up the creek. Here is directed by Larry Burns, written by Joe Quillen and Al Lewis with the music of Wilbur Hatch. Mr. Conklin was played by Gail Gordon. Others in tonight's cast were Jane Morgan, Dick Crenna, Bob Rockwell, Gloria McMillan, Joseph Kearns, and Frank Nelson. Be sure to be with us next week for another comedy episode of Our Miss Brooks. Thank you.