Savannah Page #2

Both grow in one.

Take honor from me

and my life is done.

Richard III.

The Second, Act 1.

I stand corrected.

Nevertheless, you

are guilty as sin.

But in light of all the factors,

probation for six months...

Not again!

during which time

you'll be pure as the driven snow.

Thank you, Your Honor.

Once again, liberty plucks

justice by the nose!

All right.

They could have let

us keep our quota.

Commissioner be

eating good tonight.

Oh, there's no logic

to it, Christmas.

They expect us to

let the duck fly by

just to go and get

shot in South America.

Mr. Ward, this one right

here ain't gonna make it.

Shh.

Here! Rock!

Heel.

Christmas, um,

have the skiff at Broad

quarter past 3:
00 and...

keep the bird for supper.

All right, then.

Evening, Mr. Ward.

Here!

That wasn't a hug!

I better go now.

Hey! Come on!

I'm a Yankee Doodle, why?

I report back to Uncle Sam

So I can't shoot birds out the sky

Oh! Rock!

Come on.

Good boy.

I'm certain you could

shoot as many as me

if you give up your

aversion to gloves.

I get 36.

Order was 39.

We got 39.

Fine.

I count again.

All right, let's say we

shot the same number

and leave the unlikely

metaphysical ramification

of such a fact for another day.

Well, all right then.

You just keep carrying me,

I keep carrying your duck.

There you are.

$61.50.

Uh, pardon me, mademoiselle,

I, uh, hope he didn't disturb you.

No. He's delightful.

Well, just the same,

he's not to leave me,

by arrangement of the management.

You see, he doesn't

really belong in here.

Well, the same could be

said for those boots.

Oh, these boots are

somewhat less headstrong.

They, uh, stay better to heel.

Lucy, we're ready.

Well, now it's my turn

to be called to heel.

DESK CLERK Mr. Allen, your money.

Excuse me.

Are you Mr. Ward Allen?

Yes, I am.

Have we met?

Well, let's just say I've

met your reputation,

far and wide, in fact.

Lies substantially.

Oh, so you aren't the best

guide on the river then.

No, I'm no guide at all.

I am a market hunter.

Yes, you're the one.

I happen to have a house guest,

a gentleman from Virginia.

He's the son of Sir Stuart Graham,

close friend and colleague,

and he'd like to hunt our river.

Well, any fool can find it for him.

I'm not looking for just any fool.

I'm looking for the

best fool going,

and they say that's you.

Is it?

A day as a guide

is a significant loss of

production from my end.

Oh, money's no object.

All right,

but no one touches my guns...

or my dog.

Splendid.

Then we have a deal.

Your gesture is deeply appreciated,

and I assure you, Mr. Graham

will come well-equipped.

Careful.

That bag was a gift from

the Governor of Virginia.

Well, then it should

hold up just fine.

I don't know how you do

this in, uh, Virginia,

but here, we prefer

to come unannounced.

I assure you, I've

hunted India, Africa.

My steady companion...

Are you here to hunt,

or to impress the dog with

your pedigree, Mr. Graham?

If my sources are correct,

and I'm sure they are,

you're a bit of a

paradox, Mr. Allen.

You were educated abroad,

at my alma mater, Oxford, in fact.

Known as Buffalo Bill,

yet you are the descendent

and sole inheritor of

the Allen plantation.

I'm, uh, but a laborer.

I earn that I eat,

get that I wear...

owe no man hate,

envy no man's happiness.

Content...

with my harm.

Truly of the manor born,

and yet you choose a Negro

as your steady companion.

No wonder Mr. Stubbs sent

all the way to Virginia

to find a suitor for his daughter.

Get out.

I'll do no such thing!

I promised Miss Stubbs a

fresh bird for her table.

It is your job to ensure

that I keep that promise.

May I remind you that

you are a paid guide?

No good hunter takes a shot

unless he knows he can't miss.

Get out.

You have not heard

the last of this.

You likely stirred up trouble

now with Mr. Stubbs.

Don't you have a cousin

that cooks for Stubbs?

Not saying I don't, but she'd never

talk about nothin' wasn't her business.

That's right.

You, either.

That's right.

That's why you wouldn't know

nothin' about Stubbs' daughter.

The one that turned

down Lynah's boy?

Which your cousin

never told you about.

Exactly.

Well, look at that.

Doodly Do found his way home.

Now, sir, account for yourself.

Evening, Mr. Sheriff, Mr. Stubbs.

We had a deal, Allen.

Yes, we did.

To take a gentleman on the river.

However, Mr. Graham proved

to be no gentleman at all.

See, I feared he'd bring

embarrassment to you

and your lovely family,

boasting as it were

over his intentions

towards your daughter.

I... I... I resolutely refused

to take a cent of your money, sir.

Please, if you will...

Um, if I had exercised

my better judgment,

you would not have been exposed

to this public embarrassment.

Well, appreciate that.

I'd be pleased if you'd take

a pair of mallards for your table.

Well, our cook does do

wonders with waterfowl.

First thing in the morning, then.

Hyah! Hyah!

Quack quack quack.

Mr. Allen.

What happy accident

brings you here?

Um, I promised your

father some fresh duck.

Oh, well.

A promise well kept, I see.

Oh, look, you brought your friend.

He seems glad to see me.

He's smarter than he looks.

Indeed.

Next thing I know, he'll

be quoting Shakespeare.

Uh, please tell your father

to, uh, remove the

shot from the birds

or tell your cook,

whatever you plans.

Good day, Miss Stubbs.

Oh, Mr. Allen, I wish

to inquire, uh...

Father.

A man of his word.

Hmm. Indeed.

Um, I was on the verge

of asking Mr. Allen

for a guide on the river.

You see, Mr. Allen, I've

never seen the city

from the perspective of the river,

and I'm told it's quite beautiful.

And Father here has no

inclination towards rowing.

Lucy, I'm sure Mr. Allen's time

would be better spent

at his enterprise.

Thanks very much,

Ward, for the duck.

I'm sure it will be

a meal to remember.

Well, the least we can do then

is invite Mr. Allen for supper.

Sunday? The DeSoto?

Noon, then.

All right.

Plato likens the mind of man

to an aviary of birds,

and birds to kinds of knowledge.

I find it a queer thing, knowledge,

because no matter how

tight the logic,

there's always the errant fact,

like... like...

like a solitary bird,

separated from the flock

in search of adventure.

Are you suggesting

birds can reason?

What is reason next to yearning?

Yes. Well, ahem...

tell me, Allen,

with all this foreign

education under your belt,

how is it you choose

to subject yourself

to the rigors of an outdoor life?

Why not embrace the joys

of the airless boardroom?

Well, the rewards are not

subject to the whims of nature.

But instead on the

whims of man's nature.

I find nature's nature

far more predictable

and far more, uh, honest.

Fair enough.

Can't argue with that.

Still, you do seem to have a talent

for discourse and persuasion.

I could see you being

very successful

in the courtroom, for instance.

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