 It's time once again for another comedy episode of Our Miss Brooks. Well, attending early morning meetings in the principal's office has always been a routine matter for Our Miss Brooks, who teaches English at Madison High School. But last week, Mr. Conklin carried his passion for meetings to an extreme. Monday morning, he called us in to devise ways and means of appropriating funds for a sunken garden on the campus. Mr. Boynton solved this problem very neatly when he came through with a suggestion to ask the Board of Education for the money, and they came through with a prompt and definite refusal. Wednesday, the meeting was to devise ways and means of replacing our old school song, which was entitled, Yip the I.I., I'd like to die for Madison High. Walter Denton had an ideal plan to get a brand new and original song completely without cost, but Rogers and Hammerstein turned us down. Last Friday morning at 7 o'clock, Mr. Conklin phoned, and at 7.30 the usual crew was in his office for another meeting. There were Mr. Boynton and myself as faculty advisors, and in spite of Mr. Conklin's personal feelings toward him, Walter Denton as student editor of the Madison Monitor. These proceedings will be conducted according to parliamentary procedures. Here he is! Shut up! The chair will come right to the point. When I arrived at school early this morning to attend some urgent mail, I happened to glance up at the roof, and was quite startled to notice a helpless little bird up there apparently unable to fly. He is marooned on our chimney. Therefore, we are gathered here to devise ways and means to get him down. It's nice to know you're awake, Miss Bro. Now then, the moment I realized the plight of that little bird, I said to myself, this calls for a meeting. Match? You dragged this all the way down here at 7.30 in the morning just to get a bird off their roof? Exactly, Denton. What do you think of the idea, boy? Isn't this the greatest thing since you were stalking? In this poor, obviously motherless bird, we have an unusual problem. Well, I'd say it was most unusual, sir. It's extremely rare for a mother bird to abandon her young under any circumstances. They're much more devoted to the rule than even human beings. Oh, I don't know about that. My mother's very devoted to birds, especially young ones. She had several canaries, you know, and love birds and parakeets, and once she had a cuckoo. That was about 16 years ago. No, it was about... oh, I get it. That is a corker. About 16 years ago. Now, this is a serious matter, sir. For all we know, that bird may have been stranded up there for days without a bit of food. I'll be happy to run across the street and get a hamburger. A hamburger for a bird? No, sir. A hamburger for a bird? No, for me. I haven't had breakfast this morning. I mean, you called so early this morning that I... I haven't had breakfast either, Miss Brooks. Now, sit down. Now, if the little thing has been stranded for any length of time, it might explain his inability to fly. His circulation may have slowed down. Now, if we could get some sort of a stimulant to him... Mr. Conklin, Mr. Chairman. The chair, albeit reluctantly, recognizes Walter Dabler. Why don't we get a long pole with an eyedropper full of brandy on the end of it? So that way we could squirt an eyedropper full of brandy through his beak every hour or so. Denton, brandy will not help this bird out of his predicament. Maybe not, but if he gets enough brandy in him, he won't mind it so much. I wonder if the bird would respond to a simulated call. You mean from someone who knows how to do bird calls? Yes, I happen to know a few. For example, here's the mating call of the red-throated Zulu Thrush. Or, as he's better known, the African Veltcrossel. Here it is. For the bird, he whistles. It's Mr. Conklin. The chair ignores Walter Denton. I'm not sure I have a feasible plan. Look, maybe we can scare him off the roof. I read that eagles have an exaggerated fear of snakes. Now, if this bird happens to be a young eagle, we could all stand underneath him and hiss. If it happens to be a young parrot, we could all sit down, have a heart-to-heart talk with him. It is not a parrot, nor is it an eagle. It's a blue jay. Aren't we going to a lot of trouble just to rescue a corn blaster? I wish it was in your mouth. Now, at the risk of being called a radical, I should like to inject a note of sanity here. The chimney is directly across from our new greenhouse, and as I have personally cultivated many of the potted plants therein, I would hate to see hundreds of curious undergraduates swarming over the area. This they will do if they find out about the predicament of the bird. Therefore, it behooves us to come in, but not for long. Good morning, Daddy. Hi, everybody. Hello. Greetings, sweeter than sweet. Hello, Walter. What do you want, child? Well, I thought I ought to tell you that there's a bird up on the chimney. We know all about it, Harriet. Now either come in or go out. I'd like to attend the meeting, whatever it's about, but I've got to do some shopping for home economics class, so I better run along. Goodbye, Harriet. Goodbye, sweeter than sweet. See you later, Harriet. Oh, before you go, don't mention anything about the bird on the roof to anyone. And watch your step when you leave. I wouldn't want you to trip. Trip? Yes, sweeter than sweet left his brain out in the hole. Goodbye, Harriet. Goodbye, Daddy. Now, to resume... Pardon me, Mr. Congen, but I'd like to ask you a question. If the bird is unable to fly, how does it get up there in the first place? Well, of all the... There's probably a nest in our chimney, that's how. Some totally irresponsible creature must have laid an egg up there. Well, don't look at me. I've been busy. I know how we can get up to the roof and rescue the bird. We have a 30-foot homemade ladder in the woodchop. You could climb up easy, Mr. Congen. I've seen some of the products at that woodchop desk. I wouldn't go near that ladder on a bet. Why don't you volunteer for the job, Mr. Boynton? It would get you a lot of publicity. What publicity? Rescuing a helpless bird is a great human interest story. Walter could take some pictures for the school paper and then pass the negatives along to the wire services. Why, pictures of the actual rescue might appear in newspapers all over the country. And so it has been decided I shall be the one to climb the ladder. Landed. Good luck, Mr. Conklin. Happy landing, sir. Here's how. More power to you, Mr. Conklin. Up you go, boobly eyes. Up you go. Here's to a hero. The bigger they are, the harder they... Oh, shut up! Here comes Walter with the ladder, Mr. Conklin. He's also bringing his camera, sir. Good, good. I can see it all now. The reporters plucking around me, the photographers will snap me. And you'll find that you're in the rota-gravure. I mean, who knows? You might make the front page, Mr. Conklin. The newspapers might assist in my campaign to appropriate funds for my pet project. A sunken garden to complement our lovely greenhouse over yonder. I've got the ladder up against the building, Mr. Conklin. All right, coming, coming. Well, folks, this is it. Come on. Now, hold this contraction steady, boy. I will, Mr. Conklin. And I'll get a good shot of you when you're coming down with the bird. Here you go, sir. I'll hold the ladder from this side. Careful now. I'm off. Just a few more rungs to go. Easy does it, sir. He's made it. Are you on the roof, Mr. Conklin? Yes, I am. Oh, thank goodness. I'd have never heard the end of it if anything happened to this ladder. Seems to be a bit wobbly since Mr. Conklin got off it. Yes, it does. Here, I'll push it back from the side of the building a bit. Oh, well, you've killed it. First to build another one in the wood shop? Well, there's only one thing to do. Follow me. Danton, Danton, Danton, where are you going? What are you going to do? What can we do? We're going to your office and hold a meeting. A meeting? What for? To devise ways and means of getting you off. Walter Danton, Mr. Boynton and I met between classes to try and figure out a way to get Mr. Conklin off the roof. At noon, we met once more, and Walter came up with a startlingly new angle on the entire situation. I've got an idea that'll solve the whole problem. What is it, Walter? Let's leave the old buzzard up there. Walter, I'm surprised at you. So am I, Walter. After all, Mr. Conklin is our principal. It's not respectful to speak of him in such derogatory terms. We've got to get him down from that roof. Why? Let's leave the old buzzard up there. This is a serious matter, Miss Brooks. The temperature's quite high today, and there's no shade up on that roof. Mr. Conklin won't be able to take much more of that sun. If a young blue day can take it, so can an old buzzard. I mean, we'd better get some boats down before the whole town finds out about it and overruns the campus. Oh, it isn't just the crowds I'm afraid of, or the heat. Mr. Conklin's been without food all day. That shouldn't bother him at all. Shouldn't bother him? He was once a schoolteacher, wasn't he? Guys, when I called Mrs. Davis this morning, she said she'd bring a lunch pail over that we can hoist up to the roof. Oh, we won't have to hoist it up, Miss Brooks. The new ladder they're building in Woodshop should be ready any minute now. Well, that's good. I can just see Mr. Conklin's face when he climbs down off that roof. He'll probably be so relieved he'll grin from ear to ear. He'll grin from ear to ear and then break the ladder over my head. Really worried me, though, is the bill I'm going to get. I just haven't the green stuff to pay for those broken windows in the greenhouse. Oh, you'll be so happy to get down, he might forget all about that, Miss Brooks. I doubt it. Of course, if I'm forced to it, I'll just have to borrow the money from you, Mr. Barton. For me? Who else? Let's leave the old budget up there. You know you don't mean that, Diamond Jim. Maybe that's the ladder now. Come in. Hello, folks. Hi, it's Mrs. Davis. Oh, I'm glad you got here on time. Hi, Mrs. B. Hello, Walter and Mr. Boynton. My, you look so strong and handsome today, Mr. Boynton. Honestly, your shoulder seems broader than ever. Put on your glasses, Mrs. Davis. That's me. So are you great big biology teacher? That's me, Mrs. Davis. If you'll excuse me now, I better get into the shop and see what's keeping our new ladder. Do that, Walter, and check back as soon as it's finished. Okay, Miss Brooks. Roger. We'll go. Over and out. What did you bring down for Mr. Conklin, Mrs. Davis? I brought this part of tomato soup, Connie. It's still piping hot. Here, I'll lift the lid. Oh, boy. It's nice and thick, too. Just like father used to make. Like father used to make? Well, yes. When my younger brother Bill was born, mother asked Dad to take over some of the cooking chores. After a while, we just couldn't drag him out of the kitchen. Dad was rather a shy type of person. You might say he never really wore the pants in our family. No wonder you couldn't drag him out of the kitchen. It's very nice of you to go to all this trouble, Mrs. Davis. Did you bring Mr. Conklin anything besides the soup? Yes, Connie. I also brought a few geraniums from our yard. I know how Mr. Conklin loves flowers, Connie. He was telling me just last week that his fondest dream was to have a sunken garden here at Madison. Where are the flowers? The geraniums, Mrs. Davis. Oh, dear. I wondered why this soup was so thick. You mean they fell into the soup? They the fell or were pushed. Me and that absent mind of mine. You see, I went out to our yard to pick the flowers and left the soup simmering on the stove. Then I... Oh, stay, that sounds cute, doesn't it? I left the soup simmering on the stove. It's got a kind of a lute to it, hasn't it? It's another South Pacific, Mrs. Davis. What about the geraniums? Well, as I say, I left the soup simmering on the stove, and then... the soup simmering on the stove. Oh. Anyway, when I returned, I placed the flowers I'd cut on the shelf above the stove. Then I went to get some salt. And that's when the flowers fell into the soup? Why, Mr. Boynton, it's good to see you again. I haven't been anywhere, Mrs. Davis. Oh, that's a shame. You just wait till your vacation. About the geraniums, they were very fresh and green, and they'll give the soup a nice pan. I'm sure Mr. Conklin won't even notice them. Probably not. He's pretty colorblind. But by the time he gets this soup, he'll probably eat it pale and all. The latter is just about finished, Miss Brooks, and we better hurry. Mr. Conklin just called down that he's getting weak from hunger. He's from hunger, all right. I mean, tell him we'll get some nourishment into him before he climbs down. Okay, Miss Brooks. Well, I better be running along, folks. I'm rather anxious to get back to the kitchen. To the kitchen? Yes, I want to inspect that shelf over the stove and see if anything else fell into the soup. Please do, Mrs. Davis, and if you notice anything poisonous missing, be sure and check with me as soon as Mr. Conklin's finished eating it. Set up, Miss Brooks. Now, who's going to test it out? Where's Mr. Boyden? He had to go to the supply room to pick up some things for his next class. But he told me to tell you his thoughts were all with us. Great. I'll tie this pail of soup around his thoughts and send them up the ladder. Oh, don't worry about the ladder, Miss Brooks. I'll hold it nice and firm while you scamper up like a little jackrabbit. Jackrabbit? I'll feel more like a St. Bernard with this jug around my neck. Hurry up down there. I can't hold out much longer. All right, Mr. Conklin. Now, here goes, Walter. Now, hold it steady, Walter. I'm doing my best, Miss Brooks. It's a pretty long trip to the top. Don't look down, whatever you do. Don't worry. I won't. I won't look up either at me. No, I'm not as sorry for you as I should be. Oh, there. You can relax, Walter. I made it. Well, here are your provisions, Mr. Conklin. Good dog. I mean, thanks, Miss Brooks. I thought help was never coming. Between this broiling sun and the lack of food all morning, I'm just about done in. Well, your worries are over now, sir. I brought you a pail of lovely tomato soon. It's still nice and hot as you can plainly feel. I'm sorry, Mr. Conklin. I didn't mean to kill you. You never mean to do anything, but you always manage beautifully. Thank you, sir. Now, what's this behind my ear? A geranium? It's very pretty, sir. And worn just that way, it gives you a very dashing appearance. Take it away! Apparently the sun isn't warm enough for your purposes, Miss Brooks. You have to christen me with a vat of molten soup. All right. Goodness, Mr. Conklin. You're beginning to blister already. That's the soup. It's still boiling. Here, sir. There's a sick towel under the pail. Use this to dry yourself off, then we'll squeeze a few drops down your throat and I'll help you down the ladder. I'll help myself down, Miss Brooks. In the words of the old song, I love life and I want to live. Yes, sir. I'll just check the ladder and see that everything's all right. Oh, dear. It's caught against this tin gutter at the edge. I'd better move it away just a trifle. There we go. Wait. Not so far, ladder. Come back. I'm sure the new ladder will be ready any minute, Mr. Conklin. They work very fast in our wood shop, especially in an emergency like this. What time is it now, Miss Brooks? Nine p.m. I'm afraid it will be a bit late for dinner. Oh, that's all right. There's still oodles of lunch in my hair. Care for a lock of tomatoes. No, thanks. I can't eat when I'm nervous. But, Mr. Conklin, I just thought of something. Well, don't tell it to me until I'm in a safe place. It's about the bluebird up on the chimney. Why don't we get someone below to toss us a rope? Then we could make a little hammock out of a hanky and lower him down. The bird goes down when I go down. If you think that after all this trouble, Mr. Conklin, Miss Brooks, the ladder's here. Thanks, Walter. Well, Mr. Conklin, I'll go down first. I'll go down first if you don't mind. Step aside, please. I've got a flash camera with me for pictures. All I've got to do now is put the film in and we're set. While Denton is putting in the film, you go down the ladder. After all, Madison High is my ship. As its captain, I could do no less than to remain aboard until all others have been safely evacuated. Aye, aye, sir. Keep her steady down there, mate. Here I come. I'll take my time, thanks, Harriet. The buoyant is down here, too. Oh, thank goodness you're safe, Miss Brooks. Oh, excuse me. Mr. Conklin, don't come down yet. You forgot the bird. Oh, yes. I'll go back and get it. Is Daddy all right, Miss Brooks? He's fine, Harriet. Golly, I tried to talk to him this morning, but he just wouldn't listen. My goodness, if I'd known it was going to cause all this trouble, I wouldn't have hit it so hard with my racket. You wouldn't have hit what so hard with what racket, Harriet? Well, after school yesterday, I was playing badminton on the lawn, and I hit the badminton bird so hard it landed on the roof. Badminton bird? They're sticking out over the edge of the chimney. Daddy's reaching for it now, okay? Now he's coming to the ladder with it. They're ready down there? Got your camera all set up, Denton? Yes, Mr. Conklin. Then here we come. I want you to be sure and get a good shot of me with this poor little badminton bird's cup, tenderly in the air. Now don't you worry, you poor little... You poor... You poor little badminton bird! Squeeze him behind this ladder. No, Walter, stop that! Double another broken ladder. Now how will we get him down? By the greenhouse, Mr. Conklin. Nothing very unusual. I was merely hurled through the top of the greenhouse, and have now sprawled on the ground. Congratulations! Don't you see? At last you've got what you've always wanted. A nice sunken garden. Now once again, here is our Miss Brooks. Well, we finally vacuumed Mr. Conklin out of the campus. And while the others went to get liniments and bandages, I tried to make him comfortable in the greenhouse. Sit right down by these sacks of topsoil, Mr. Conklin. I'll get another one off this floor. Careful, careful, Miss Brooks, those sacks are pretty heavy. Oh, I think I can manage. Speak to me. Oh, well, plant you now and dig you later.