W.C. Fields: 6 Short Films Page #4

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I ain't a-heared | from Chester...

it'll be a year, | come Michaelmas.

I was thinkin' of the song | that you writ about him.

I wanted to sing it | to my wife last night.

You know, we got a boy | just about Chester's age...

who's got a hankerin' | to go to the city.

- Have you got your dulcimer here? | - Yes, I have, officer.

I wonder if you would mind | singin' me that song.

I'd be tickled to death.

You'll have to excuse me, | though, if my voice isn't just right.

You know, we can't get any ipecac | up in this part of the country.

Go right ahead, | Mr. Snavely.

You won't consider me rude | if I play with my mitts on, will you?

Not at all, Mr. Snavely. | Not at all.

There was once | a poor boy

And he left | his country home

And he came to the city | to look for work

He promised | his ma and pa

He would lead | a sinless life

And always shun | the fatal curse of drink

Once in the city

He got a situation | in a quarry

And there he made | the acquaintance

Of some | college students

He little thought | they were demons

For they wore | the best of clothes

But good clothes | do not always make the gentleman

So they tempted him | to drink

And they said | he was a coward

Until at last he took | The fatal glass of beer

When he found | what he'd done

He dashed the glass | upon the floor

And he staggered | through the door

With delirium tremens

Once upon the sidewalk

He met | a Salvation Army girl

And wickedly | he broke her tambourine

All she said | was "Heaven...

"Heaven bless you"

And placed a mark | upon his brow

With a kick | she'd learned

Before she had been saved

Now, as a moral | to young men

Who come down | to the city

Don't go 'round breaking | people's tambourines

That certainly is a sad song.

Don't cry, constable.

It is a sad song.

My Uncle Ichabod said, | speakin' of the city,

"It ain't no place | for women, gal,

but pretty men go thar. "

He always said somethin' | to make you split your sides a-laughin'.

Comical old gentleman he was.

Well, I think I'll | be a-hightailin' it over the Rim.

- And it ain't a fit night out | for man nor beast.

Otto!

Ahh! Hee!

Otto, mush!

Otto!

Otto!

Mush! | Mush!

Hee!

Otto! | Mush!

March! March!

Tastes more like corn flakes. March!

March!

Hee!

- And it ain't a fit night out | for man nor beast.

Hullo-wah!

Hello there!

Hello!

Hello.

- How, Mr. Snavely? | - How, Chief.

- How. | - And how.

Vamoose!

Oom-scray.

Lamb.

It ain't a fit night out | for man nor beast.

And it's been a-stormin' | for almost a "fort-nit. "

- Who's thar? | - It's me, Ma.

Did you find any gold | down at the gulf, Pa?

I found that "nougat. " | It be on the table.

A "nougat. " | A golden "nougat. "

Just what you been a-combin' them thar | hills for for nigh on to 30 years.

It must be worth | almost a hundred dollars.

Help to pay off the mortgage | on the old shack.

Has that pill from Medicine Hat | been here again?

- Yes, and he wants more money. | - Rot his hide.

He wants more money, and if he | don't get it, he'll take our malamute.

- He won't take old Bozo, my lead dog. | - Why not, Pa?

'Cause I 'et him.

You 'et him?

He was mighty good | with mustard.

We was a-mushing over | Blind Nag Rim last night.

I got mighty hungry.

You better take | your mukluks off, Pa.

Captain Pepitone | of the Canadian Mounted...

smuggled a police dog | across the border for you.

Smuggled a police dog | across the border for me?

Yes, and he says for you | to keep it under your hat.

- How big is it? | - About so high.

He's crazy.

Pa, it's just | three years today...

since they put our dear son in jail | for stealing them thar bonds.

- And I know he never stole 'em. | - Sure he never stole 'em.

Our Chester | never stole nothin', from nobody.

Hardly ever.

Do you think he'll come | headin' for home...

when they turn him loose | from that plagued jail?

- I reckon, guess and | calculate he will, Ma.

Who's thar?

Chester!

Our son | back again!

My own...

- Chester, my darling boy! | - Chester!

It ain't a fit night out | for man or beast.

Don't cry, Ma. We got our son | back again, ain't we?

Welcome home, Chester.

Thank you, Pa.

I don't suppose | we'll have him with us long.

Once the city gets | into a boy's system,

he loses his hankerin' | for the country.

- Sit down, Chester. | - Thank you, Pa.

- Will you have some soup, Chester? | - That's my soup, Ma.

Hand me that bread | I was dunkin', will ya?

Thanks.

Dad, I ain't ever gonna leave | the old farm again.

- I've come back here | to stay with you and Ma,

and I ain't ever | gonna leave again.

It's so good | to see you both again.

And I'm so glad to be back | home with you and Ma that I can't talk.

I'd like to go | to my little bedroom...

and lay on the bed | and cry like I was a baby again.

Thar, thar.

Go to your room and | have a good cry, dear.

I know how you feel.

I feel so tired, | I think I'll go to bed.

Why don't you lie down | and take a little rest first, Chester?

- Well, good night, Pa. | - Good night, Chester.

- Good night, Ma. | - Good night, Chester.

- Sleep well, Chester. | - Thank you, Pa. You too.

- Thank you, Chester. | - Sleep well, Chester.

- Thank you, Ma. You sleep well. | - Thank you.

Don't forget to open | the window a bit.

- Don't forget to open yours a bit, Pa. | - I won't, son.

Yes, don't forget | to open your window a bit, Chester.

- Put yours up a bit, too, Ma? | - Good night, Chester.

- Good night, Chester. | - Good night, Pa.

- Good night. | - Good night.

Good night, Chester.

I think I'll go out | and milk the elk.

Don't forget | your moose horn, Pa.

Thank you, Ma.

It ain't a fit night out | for man or beast.

Lida.

Lida, honey. | Papa's calling.

Yoo-hoo! | Papa's calling ya.

Lida!

My old embouchure | ain't what it used to be.

Hello, Lida.

Hello, Li... | Say, Elmer, have you seen Lida?

Tell her | Mr. Snavely wants...

Hello, Li... Certainly a bright | moonlight night tonight.

Hello, Li...

Hello, Lida.

Hey, Lida! It's me! Come here! | Don't you know me? Mr. Snavely.

Battered old hide.

Chester, did you | steal them bonds?

Yes, Ma, | I stole them bonds.

I was a bank messenger, | and they caught me fair and square.

I wasn't framed.

I knowed you stole 'em,

but I never would admit it | to your father.

If he thought | you stole 'em,

it would break | his poor old heart.

Never tell him | any different.

- Good night, Chester. | - Good night, Ma.

And it ain't | a fit night out...

for man or beast.

Has Chester | gone to bed yet, Ma?

I don't think so, Pa.

- Chester? | - Yes, Pa?

- Can I speak to you a minute, son? | - Yes, Pa.

Chester,

did you steal | them bonds?

I knowed you | stole 'em, son,

but I never would admit it | to your mother.

She thinks | you're innocent.

You must never tell her | any different.

If she thought | you stole 'em,

it would break | her poor old heart.

Oh, it's so good | to be home, Dad.

I'm gonna stay here now | with you and Ma for all time.

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