Summer Magic Page #8

It's open house.

Terribly open.

To anyone who wants to come.

Friends, acquaintances, total strangers.

It should be a very interesting party.

Have fun.

- Bye.

- Bye.

Nancy! For the last time,

we're waiting for all those things.

- Ahem.

- Be with you in a minute.

Quite all right. Thank you.

Important letter to a friend of mine.

Rich property owner here.

He lives in China.

Leaves me in complete charge

of his affairs.

Big responsibility.

I've got to get this here off

to Mr. Hamilton.

Then I'll take it.

Tom Hamilton?

Well, I didn't know you for a minute.

Well. Didn't know you was coming back.

You gave me quite a shock.

Thank you.

Um... I just drove by the yellow house.

There's some people out there.

Yes. Lovely folks by the name of Carey

has been living there.

I see. How long

have they been living there, Osh?

Well, not long, as you figure time.

Wonderful folks, the Careys.

They put in a new chain pump

for that old wooden one.

Who gave them permissin

to live there?

- You did.

- I did?

I've never even heard of them.

Nobody asked me.

- Why didn't you write?

- Well, I did.

Yes, sir. I did.

I wrote you every week

and kept you abreast

of everything that was happening.

- I didn't get any letters.

- That's right.

You see, I didn't mail them.

Popham, what's going on?

Now just wait. Just hear me out.

You see, I didn't know

how you'd take the situation

and here was these nice folks

that needed a house

and they fell plum in love with yours

and I let them have it.

I wrote you all about it.

Put 'em up here,

where Mariah wasn't likely to look.

Here they are. The lot of them.

The ones I wrote and the ones that

Nancy Carey wrote you. Hers are on top.

I wrote you because Mariah

was nagging me to get your permissin.

Nancy wrote hers

from a grateful young heart.

I hope you read hers before you

make up your mind what you've got to do.

Who's that, Mr. Popham?

Mariah, for once in your life,

pray for a silver lining.

Mother, must I?

Yes, Gilly, you must.

Osh has been our true friend

and he was pleased when he learned

you'd be Lallie Joy's partner tonight.

Lallie Joy, Gilly's waiting.

- Remember now. Walk feminine.

- Talk feminine.

Go on!

Good evening, Gilly.

- Good evening, Mr. Bryant.

- Lallie Joy.

- Good evening, Charles.

- Mrs. Carey.

- Won't you come in?

- Charles! How's my hair?

- Fine.

- Well, how do I look?

Fine. But you said

you should keep a man waiting.

Oh, did I say that?

Nancy, dear, you'll understand some day.

You've got plenty of time.

- I didn't think you'd even be ready.

- I'll never keep you waiting, Charles.

- Hi, Julia. Opal, this is Julia.

- How do you do, Julia?

Hello, Mr. Bryant.

No use standing around out here.

Party's inside.

Nancy? Nancy?

Everyone's over at the barn.

These slippers, Mother.

I told you they'd be too big.

Well, I'd hoped you'd grow into them.

Oh, Mother,

you still think of me as a child.

I suppose I do.

Anyway, your guests are waiting.

A fine little fixer I am.

Everybody has somebody.

Not me, though.

Not me. Uh... not I.

There are plenty of young people.

You can join them.

Join?

It isn't the same thing, Mother.

I wouldn't have minded a year ago.

Even a month.

But... I don't know.

Somehow, I just have

a different feeling, that's all.

Well, if you don't want to go in alone,

I'll send Gilly over.

Mother! Gilly's a relative.

I couldn't go into the ballroom

with a relative.

No, I must go alone. I must do it alone.

Well, if you're sure.

Florence Nightingale. The Crimea.

Joan of Arc. Maid of Orleans.

Mrs. Pankhurst. Votes for women.

Don't take too long

deciding which one you want to be.

Chin up.

Smiling, the boy fell dead.

Boy?! Oh, no, never!

I'd much rather...

# Walk feminine, talk feminine

# Smile and beguile feminine... #

Oh, allow me, please.

I brought along a friend of mine, Nancy.

- I don't think you know Tom...

- Oh, we've met.

I decided I couldn't afford

to miss this party.

Should be a very um...

interesting evening.

Well, to think that you know Osh Popham,

the most remarkable human being.

Fairy godfather.

If it hadn't been for him,

we wouldn't be in this lovely house.

I don't think Mr. Popham told me

the whole story.

Oh, I know. He's so modest.

Self-effacing.

So I'll start at the beginning.

Where was I? Oh, yes, I remember.

Well, it was Osh, Osh, Osh,

from the very start.

From the first moment we arrived...

- Evening, Clove.

- Well, evening, cousin.

Say, you're looking worse

than I ever seen you.

I am worse. I'm horrible.

Well, that's not a fit mood

for you to be in for a party.

I've got some nice applejack here.

This will fix you up fine.

There now. Take a swig of this.

Pull you right out of yourself.

Here's to the state of Maine.

Good evening. How are you?

Nice to have you with us.

Digby. Lallie Joy.

Oh, there's dear Osh.

- Who's that?

- I never saw him before.

City fella.

Osh. You two stay together. It's time

for Mother to start the ceremonies.

Oh, yes. The ceremonies.

It won't amount to much.

It'll be kind of dull.

- Like to go out for a smoke?

- No.

I'm sure that I'll enjoy them.

Will you gather closer, please?

Friends and neighbors.

As you know, the Carey family

would not be living in the yellow house

if it were not for the generosity

of Mr. Thomas Hamilton.

He has made but one modest request,

that we hang the portrait

of his beloved mother

in a place of honor.

- Mr. Popham!

- Mariah. Don't say it.

- You look near to apoplexy.

- Mr. Popham!

Calm yourself. Here. Drink this.

And then I'll listen to you.

And now may I present

my daughter, Nancy,

who will unveil this lovely portrait.

- Where's Peter?

- I won't!

I won't! I won't do it!

I won't!

Mr. Hamilton,

wherever you may be,

ankle-deep in fetid rice paddies

or splendid in a gay rickshaw,

delirious with fever,

or sated with oriental dances,

we know your heart is with us tonight.

Amen.

Tonight, we're unveiling your mother,

as per your request.

We have taken her from the oven where

she's been hidden for so many years...

- Funny place, the oven.

- His mother?

Of course we're not going to

keep her hanging in the barn.

No, we're gonna find a permanent place

where she'll always be enshrined

in our hearts.

No doubt some of you have heard me

kidding about old Mr. Hamilton,

calling him the Yellow Peril...

Well, that was only because

I thought that maybe the old gentleman

might suddenly return, and snatch

the yellow house right away from us.

Peter?

To light these candles, I give you

a twig of rosemary... for remembrance.

This is a very special mother.

Ladies and gentlemen, dear friends...

Mr. Hamilton's mother.

She was a good woman.

Just where did you dig up that thing?

Reminds me, I forgot to ask.

How is your mother?

She's fine.

Having a whirl on the Riviera.

She wouldn't live in Beulah

if you gave it to her.

That's why Father

left the yellow house to me.

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