Mr. Deeds Goes To Town Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Mr. Deeds Goes To Town script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Frank Capra movie with Gary Cooper.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Mr. Deeds Goes To Town. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Mr. Deeds Goes To Town Script


  

  

 

                   

Corny, who do you think

you're talking to?



 

                   

If the Semple attorneys don't know

who the heir is, who does?



 

                   

Come on, Corny. I've done you a lot of

favors. Who's getting the Semple dough?



 

                   

You're asking the wrong guy, Mac.

I'm only a press agent.



 

                   

- Newspaperman?

- Wants to know who the heir is.



 

                   

- Hang up.

- Sorry, Mac, l can't--



 

                   

- Yeah, sure, but I ain't the attorney.

- Hang up!



 

                   

Mr. Cedar is,

and l haven't seen him in two days.



 

                   

- Cedar, we gotta deal with the papers.

- I'm not interested in the newspapers.



  

                   

But it's a great story. Somewhere

a guy is walking into    million bucks.



  

                   

My first concern

is to locate the lucky man.



  

                   

When l do, you keep

the newspapers away from him.



  

                   

Okay, as long as that weekly stipend

keeps coming in.



  

                   

We located him, Mr. Cedar.



  

                   

- Yes, John, we got him.

- Here's the report.



  

                   

Longfellow Deeds, single,   

lives in Mandrake Falls, Vermont.



  

                   

- Thank heaven.

- Better wire him.



  

                   

I'll do no such thing. I'm going

there myself. You too, Anderson.



  

                   

You too, Cobb.



  

                   

Make three train reservations

to Mandrake Falls, Vermont.



  

                   

- Where?

- Mandrake Falls.



  

                   

"Welcome to Mandrake Falls...



  

                   

where the scenery enthrals...



  

                   

where no hardship e'er befalls.



  

                   

Welcome to Mandrake Falls."



  

                   

That's pretty.



  

                   

- You're sure he lives in this town?

- This is the town, all right.



  

                   

Well, I hope it's not

a wild goose chase.



  

                   

No, sir, we checked it thoroughly.

He lives here, all right.



  

                   

l spy a native.

Let's ask him.



  

                   

- Good morning.

- Morning, neighbors, morning.



  

                   

That's an excellent start.

At least we've broken the ice.



  

                   

Do you know a fellow

by the name of Longfellow Deeds?



  

                   

Deeds?

Yes, sir. Yes, indeedy.



  

                   

Everyone knows Deeds.



  

                   

Must be a game he's playing.



  

                   

We'd like to get in touch with him.



  

                   

- Who's that?

- Deeds. Who do you think?



  

                   

Oh, yes, Deeds.

Fine fellow. Very democratic.



  

                   

You won't have no trouble at all.

Talks to anybody.



  

                   

- We'd better try somebody else.

- No.



  

                   

Next time he comes out, I'll straddle

him while you ask him your questions.



  

                   

Morning, neighbors.



  

                   

Remember us, the fellows

who were here a minute ago?



  

                   

Oh, yes, indeedy.

l never forget a face.



  

                   

Listen, pop.



  

                   

We've come all the way from New York

to look up a fellow named Deeds.



  

                   

It's important.

It's very important.



  

                   

Don't get rough, neighbor.

Just ask.



  

                   

Then please pretend, for just one

fleeting moment, that I'm asking.



  

                   

- Where does he reside?

- Who?



  

                   

Longfellow Deeds.

Where does he live?



  

                   

Oh, that's what you want. Why didn't

you say so in the first place?



  

                   

Those fellows don't know what they're

talking about. I'll take you there.



  

                   

If they'd only explained to me

what they want, there'd be no trouble.



  

                   

Oh. Will you come in,

please, gentlemen?



  

                   

- Is Mr. Deeds in?

- No.



  

                   

He's over to the park arranging a bazaar

to raise money for the fire engine.



  

                   

Mal, you should've knowed

he was in the park.



  

                   

Knowed it all the time,

but they wanted to see the house.



  

                   

Can't read their minds

if they don't say what they want.



  

                   

Come in, please.



  

                   

- Can l get you a cup of tea?

- No, thank you.



  

                   

Sit down. Sure l couldn't get you

a glass of lemonade or something?



  

                   

No.

That's very kind of you.



  

                   

- Are you related to him?

- No, I'm his housekeeper.



  

                   

We'd like to find out something

about him. What does he do for a living?



  

                   

He and Jim Mason own the tailor works,

but that's not how he makes his money.



  

                   

- He makes most of it from his poetry.

- He writes poetry?



  

                   

Oh, my goodness, yes.

Longfellow's famous.



  

                   

He writes all those things

on postcards.



  

                   

You know, for Christmas

and Easter and birthdays.



  

                   

Sit down, please.



  

                   

Here's one.

He got    dollars for this one.



  

                   

"When you've nowhere to turn

and you're filled with doubt...



  

                   

don't stand in midstream hesitating...



  

                   

for you know that your mother's heart

cries out--



  

                   

'I'm waiting, my boy, I'm waiting."'



  

                   

Isn't that beautiful?

Isn't it a lovely sentiment?



  

                   

Yeah.



  

                   

Here he is now.



  

                   

l suggest you break it to him gently.

He's liable to keel over from the shock.



  

                   

They've been waiting a long while.



  

                   

- Who are they?

- I don't know.



  

                   

- Mr. Longfellow Deeds?

- Yes.



  

                   

How do you do?



  

                   

I'm John Cedar, of the New York firm

of Cedar, Cedar, Cedar and Budington.



  

                   

Budington must feel

like an awful stranger.



  

                   

- Mr. Cornelius Cobb. Mr. Anderson.

- How do you do?



  

                   

You gentlemen

make yourselves comfortable.



  

                   

Thank you.



  

                   

Thanks.



  

                   

New mouthpiece.

Been waitin' two weeks for this.



  

                   

Kids keep swiping them all the time.

They use 'em for bean shooters.



  

                   

- What can l do for you gentlemen?

- You gentlemen going to stay to lunch?



  

                   

- I'd like to ask you a few questions.

- All right.



  

                   

- Are you Joseph and Mary Deeds' son?

- Yes.



  

                   

- Your parents living?

- Why, no.



  

                   

Well, Mr. Deeds, does the name of

Martin W. Semple mean anything to you?



   

                   

Not much.

He's an uncle of mine, l think.



   

                   

l never saw him.

My mother's name was Semple.



   

                   

Well, he passed on. He was killed

in a motor accident in Italy.



   

                   

He was? Gee, that's too bad.



   

                   

- If there's anything l can do--

- l have good news for you, sir.



   

                   

Mr. Semple left a large fortune

when he died.



   

                   

He left it all to you.



   

                   

Deducting the taxes...



   

                   

it amounts to something in

the neighborhood of    million dollars.



   

                   

How about lunch?

Are the gentlemen staying?



   

                   

Of course.



   

                   

She's got some fresh orange layer cake

with that thick stuff on the top.



   

                   

Sure. They don't want

to go to the hotel.



   

                   

Perhaps you didn't hear

what l said, Mr. Deeds.



   

                   

The whole Semple fortune goes to you--

   million dollars.



   

                   

Oh, yes, l heard you, all right.

Twenty million is quite a lot, isn't it?



   

                   

- It'll do in a pinch.

- Yes, indeed.



   

                   

l wonder why he left me all that money.

l don't need it.



   

                   

Mr. Cobb here

is an ex-newspaperman.



   

                   

Associated with your uncle

for many years, as a sort of buffer.



   

                   

Buffer?



   

                   

Yeah.

A glorified doormat.



   

                   

Rich people need someone to keep the

crowds away. The world's full of pests.



   

                   

Then there's the newspapers.



   

                   

One must know when to seek publicity

and when to avoid it.



   

                   

Cedar, Cedar, Cedar and Budington.



   

                   

l can't think

of a rhyme for "Budington."



   

                   

Why should you?



   

                   

Whenever l run across a funny name,

l like to poke around for a rhyme.



   

                   

- Don't you?

- No.



   

                   

- I've got one for Cobb.

- Yeah?



   

                   

There once was a man named Cobb

who kept Semple away from the mob.



   

                   

Came the turn of the tide

and Semple, he died.



   

                   

Now poor Cobb's out of a job.



   

                   

- Sounds like two weeks' notice to me.

- Huh?



   

                   

I've gotten the sackeroo in many ways,

but never in rhyme.



   

                   

I don't mean that.

I'll need your help.



   

                   

That's different,

if it's just poetry.



   

                   

Are you married?



   

                   

Who, me? No.



   

                   

He's too fussy for that.

That's what's the matter with him.



   

                   

There's lots of nice girls

right here in Mandrake Falls--



   

                   

Don't pay any attention to her.



   

                   

He's got a lot of foolish notions

about saving a lady in distress.



   

                   

Now, you keep out of this.



   

                   

Saving a lady in distress, eh? We all

have dreams like that when we're young.



   

                   

Incidentally, we'd better get started.

You'll have to pack.



   

                   

- What for?

- You're going to New York with us.



   

                   

- When?

- This afternoon,  :  .



   

                   

l don't think

we've got any suitcases.



   

                   

Well, we could borrow a couple

from Mrs. Simpson.



   

                   

She went to Niagara Falls

last year.



   

                   

I'm kinda nervous. I've never been

away from Mandrake Falls in my life.



   

                   

- Like to see Grant's tomb, though.

- I can understand that.



   

                   

We'll meet you at the train

at  :  .



   

                   

Congratulations, Mr. Deeds. You're one

of the richest men in the country.



   

                   

See you later.

Good-bye. Thank you.



   

                   

- See you later, kid.

- Good day, sir.



   

                   

Did you hear what he said?

Do you know how much    million is?



   

                   

I don't care. You sit there and eat

your lunch. You haven't touched a thing.



   

                   

For he's a jolly good fellow

For he's a jolly good fellow



   

                   

For he's a jolly good fellow



   

                   

Which nobody can deny



   

                   

l can't find him. l looked everywhere.

His house is locked up.



   

                   

- Probably had a change of heart.

- He wasn't anxious to come.



   

                   

Here comes the train.



   

                   

- Look.

- What?



   

                   

That tuba player.



   

                   

Well...



   

                   

now I've seen everything.



   

                   

Good-bye, Mrs. Meredith!



   

                   

Good-bye, Jim!



   

                   

Bye, Buddy!



   

                   

Gosh, l got a lot of friends.



   

                   

- Have a drink?

- No, thanks.



   

                   

Cigar?



   

                   

No, thank you.



   

                   

l wouldn't worry if l were you.



   

                   

A large portion like this entails great

responsibility, but you'll have help.



   

                   

So don't worry.

Leave everything to me.



   

                   

- l wasn't worried about that.

- No?



   

                   

l was wondering where they're gonna

get another tuba player for the band.



   

                   

- Hello, John. Where you been?

- I've been fishing.



   

                   

Good morning, Mr. Cedar.



   

                   

Good morning.

Where are they?



   

                   

- Waiting for you.

- Good morning, Mr. Cedar.



   

                   

Good morning.



   

                   

- Hello, boys.

- Well, what's he like?



   

                   

We've nothing to worry about.

He's as naive as a child.



   

                   

Close that door.



   

                   

- Get Mrs. Cedar on the phone.

- John, what happened?



   

                   

The smartest thing l ever did

was to make that trip.



   

                   

- John, did you get--

- No, Budington.



   

                   

l didn't get the power of attorney,

but I will.



   

                   

l asked him what he was going to do with

the money. What do you suppose he said?



   

                   

Give it away.



   

                   

- The boy must be a nitwit.

- John, you had the right hunch.



   

                   

- John, we can't afford--

- l know, Budington.



   

                   

We can't afford to have the books

investigated right now.



   

                   

You've said that a thousand times.



   

                   

What if they fall

into somebody else's hands?



   

                   

It hasn't happened yet.



   

                   

But half-a-million dollars,

my goodness--



   

                   

Will you stop worrying!



   

                   

l got Semple to turn it all over to us.

And who got power of attorney from him?



   

                   

All right, then I'll get it again.



   

                   

Now, take it easy. Those books

will never leave this office.



   

                   

Yokel.

Nothing but a yokel.



   

                   

Your uncle must've been mad

to leave all that money to him.



   

                   

You're as closely related to him

as he is, and what did you get?



   

                   

- I say, what did you get?

- Stop yelling.



   

                   

- Can l help it if Uncle didn't like me?

- l told you to be nice to him.



   

                   

Ten years we've waited

for that old man to kick off.



   

                   

Then we were gonna be on Easy Street.

Yeah, on Easy Street.



   

                   

- It's too late now. You're a nuisance.

- That's just what I'm gonna be.



   

                   

I'm gonna be a nuisance

until I get ahold of some of that money.



   

                   

He's news!



   

                   

Every time he blows his nose,

it's news.



   

                   

A corn-fed bohunk like that falling

into the Semple fortune is hot copy.



   

                   

It's gotta be personal.

It's gotta have an angle.



   

                   

What does he think about?

How does it feel to be a millionaire?



   

                   

What does he think of New York?

Is he smart? Dumb? A million angles.



   

                   

He's been here three days,

and what have you numbskulls brought in?



   

                   

-A half-wit novice could've done better.

-We tried--



   

                   

Am I talking too loud

or annoying anybody?



   

                   

You know Corny Cobb.

He's keeping him under lock and key.



   

                   

Never mind.

Use what little brains you've got.



   

                   

Find out something for yourselves,

you imbecilic stupes.



   

                   

Now get out of here before

l really tell you what l think of you.



   

                   

- What was that?

- l said you had dirty plaster.



   

                   

You too.



   

                   

Thought l could depend on you,

but you're as bad as the rest.



   

                   

Look. l can do it.



   

                   

What's gotten into you, Babe?



   

                   

Normally you'd blast this town wide open

before letting Cobb get away with this.



   

                   

He's not getting away with anything.



   

                   

Babe, get me some stuff on this guy

and you can have--



   

                   

- Can I have a month's vacation?

- With pay.



   

                   

With pay? Leave four columns open

on the front page tomorrow.



   

                   

I'll keep the whole front page open.

What are you gonna do?



   

                   

Have lunch.



   

                   

The first time l ever

had a suit made on purpose.



   

                   

It's merely a suggestion, Mr. Deeds...



   

                   

but if you'll give me power of attorney,

we'll take care of everything.



   

                   

It'll save you a lot of annoyances.

Everyone will try to sell you something.



   

                   

There have been a lot of them already.

Strangest kind of people.



   

                   

Salesmen, politicians, moochers.

All want something.



   

                   

Haven't had a minute to myself.

Haven't seen Grant's tomb yet.



   

                   

Your uncle didn't bother with that sort

of thing. He left everything to us.



   

                   

He traveled, enjoyed himself.



   

                   

You should do the same thing.



   

                   

Besides wanting to be my lawyer...



   

                   

you want to handle

my investments too?



   

                   

- Yes. That is to say--

- How much extra would it cost?



   

                   

- No extra charge.

- That's a lot of extra work.



   

                   

But that's a service Cedar, Cedar,

Cedar and Budington usually donates.



   

                   

Budington.



   

                   

l can't think of a rhyme

for Budington yet.



   

                   

The gentlemen from the opera are

still waiting in the board room, sir.



   

                   

They're getting a trifle impatient.



   

                   

l forgot about them.

What do you think they want?



   

                   

Your uncle was chairman of the board.

They probably expect you to carry on.



   

                   

I'll tell those mugs to keep their

shirts on and that you'll be right down.



   

                   

Oh, did you send that telegram

to Jim Mason yet?



   

                   

Jim Mason?

Oh, yeah, yeah.



   

                   

No, l didn't send it. I've got it

written out, though. Here it is.



   

                   

"Arthur's been with the tailor works

too long. Stop.



   

                   

Don't think we should fire him.

Longfellow."



   

                   

Send it right away.

l don't want him to fire Arthur.



   

                   

Sure, we don't want to fire Arthur.



   

                   

He was the last baby

my father delivered, Arthur was.



   

                   

You ought to give this matter

some thought.



   

                   

l mean about

the power of attorney.



   

                   

Oh, yes, l will.

I'll give it a lot of thought.



   

                   

There was a fellow named Winslow

here a while ago...



   

                   

wanted to handle my business

for nothing too.



   

                   

Puzzles me why these people want

to work for nothing. It isn't natural.



   

                   

l guess I'd better

think about it some more.



   

                   

That's that.



   

                   

You go to an awful lot of work

to keep a fella warm.



   

                   

Yes, sir.



   

                   

A Mr. Hallor to see you, sir.



   

                   

Hallor?

Don't let him in.



   

                   

Why not? Who's he?



   

                   

A lawyer representing a woman.

Some claim against the estate.



   

                   

If he has a claim, we'd better see him.

Send him in.



   

                   

He'll cause you a lot of trouble.



   

                   

How can he make trouble for me?

I haven't done anything.



   

                   

- l told you to take this up with me.

- I'm tired of being pushed around.



   

                   

I don't care

how important you are.



   

                   

- Mr. Deeds, l represent Mrs. Semple.

- Mrs. Semple?



   

                   

Your uncle's common-law wife.

She has a legal claim on the estate.



   

                   

- Suppose we let the courts decide--

- You wouldn't dare take this to court.



   

                   

I'll leave it to you.



   

                   

Would any court not be in sympathy with

a woman who gave up her best years...



   

                   

for an old man like your uncle?



   

                   

- What kind of wife did you say?

- Common-law wife.



   

                   

- On top of that, there's a child.

- Child? My uncle?



   

                   

- Yes, sir.

- That's awful.



   

                   

The poor woman should be

taken care of immediately.



   

                   

I'm glad to see you're

willing to be reasonable.



   

                   

If she was his wife, she should have

the money. l don't want a penny.



   

                   

Don't make any rash promises.



   

                   

Better go. That opera mob is about to

break into the mad song from Lucia.



   

                   

l don't wanna keep them waiting.

They're important people.



   

                   

- Very good, sir.

- l can't go down like this.



   

                   

l wish you'd go along with me, Cobb.

They're all strangers to me.



   

                   

- What about it, Mr. Deeds?

- Huh?



   

                   

Oh. You'll excuse me, won't you?

I'll be right back.



   

                   

Gee, I'm busy. Do the opera people

always come here for their meetings?



   

                   

- Uh-huh.

- That's funny. Why's that?



   

                   

Why do mice go

where there's cheese?



   

                   

I'm led to believe

the young man's quite childish.



   

                   

We won't have any difficulty

getting him to put up the entire amount.



   

                   

- After all, it's only $      .

- Excellent idea.



   

                   

We're very fortunate the young man

is so sympathetic toward music.



   

                   

He plays the tuba

in the town band.



   

                   

- Here he comes.

- Good.



   

                   

The first order of business will be

electing a new chairman of the board.



   

                   

As a sentimental gesture toward

the best friend that opera ever had--



   

                   

the late Mr. Semple--



   

                   

l think it only fitting that his nephew,

Mr. Longfellow Deeds...



   

                   

should be made our next chairman.



   

                   

- l therefore nominate him.

- Seconded.



   

                   

- All those in favor?

- Aye!



   

                   

Carried.



   

                   

Our congratulations, Mr. Deeds.



   

                   

- I'm chairman?

- Yes. You've just been elected.



   

                   

- I'm chairman!

- Happy voyage.



   

                   

Right here, Mr. Deeds.



   

                   

Now, the next order of business--

the reading of the secretary's minutes.



   

                   

- Move we dispense with it.

- Seconded.



   

                   

- All in favor?

- Aye!



   

                   

l think they can be

dispensed with.



   

                   

-We're ready for the treasurer's report.

-Move we dispense with it.



   

                   

- Seconded.

- All in favor.



   

                   

Quite right. Now, gentlemen,

the next order of business--



   

                   

Just a minute.

What does the chairman do?



   

                   

Well, the chairman

presides the meeting.



   

                   

That's what l thought.



   

                   

But, if you don't mind, I'm rather

interested in the treasurer's report.



   

                   

The treasurer reports a deficit

of $       for the current year.



   

                   

A deficit?

You mean we lost that much?



   

                   

You see, Mr. Deeds, the opera

is not conducted for profit.



   

                   

It isn't?

What is it conducted for?



   

                   

It's an artistic institution.



   

                   

- We own an opera house, don't we?

- We do.



   

                   

- And we give shows?

- We provide opera.



   

                   

But you charge--

l mean, you sell tickets?



   

                   

- Of course.

- And it doesn't pay?



   

                   

Impossible.

The opera has never paid.



   

                   

Well, then, we must give

the wrong kind of shows.



   

                   

There isn't any wrong or right kind.

Opera is opera.



   

                   

l guess, but I wouldn't care to be head

of a business that kept losing money.



   

                   

That wouldn't be common sense.



   

                   

Incidentally, where is

the $       coming from?



   

                   

Well, we were rather expecting it

to come from you.



   

                   

- Me?

- Naturally.



   

                   

Excuse me, gentlemen.

There's nothing natural about that.



   

                   

Fire engine!



   

                   

Gee, that was a pip!



   

                   

We're gonna have one like that in

Mandrake Falls soon, with a siren too.



   

                   

Uh, where were we?



   

                   

You see, the opera is not conducted

like any ordinary business.



   

                   

- Why not?

- Because it just isn't a business.



   

                   

Maybe it isn't to you,

but it certainly is to me...



   

                   

if l have to make up a loss

of $      .



   

                   

If it's losing that much money,

there must be something wrong.



   

                   

Maybe you charge too much.

Maybe you're selling bad merchandise.



   

                   

A lot of things.

l don't know.



   

                   

You see, I expect to do

a lot of good with that money...



   

                   

and I can't afford to put it into

anything that l don't look into.



   

                   

That's my decision

for the time being, gentlemen.



   

                   

Good-bye, and thank you

for making me chairman.



   

                   

Gentlemen, you'll find the

smelling salts in the medicine chest.



   

                   

Sorry to keep you waiting.



   

                   

Those opera people are funny.

They wanted me to put up $      .



   

                   

- What about it, Mr. Deeds?

- l turned them down, naturally.



   

                   

- No, l mean about my client.

- Oh.



   

                   

We'll have to do something

about the common wife.



   

                   

- Tails tonight, sir?

- Tails?



   

                   

Why, that's a monkey suit.



   

                   

You want people to laugh at me?

I've never worn one of those in my life.



   

                   

Good-bye, and thank you, sir.



   

                   

Good-bye.

Wants me to wear a monkey suit.



   

                   

- We don't want to appear greedy.

- Huh?



   

                   

- l say, we don't want to appear greedy.

- Oh, that.



   

                   

- What are you doing?

- Assisting you, sir.



   

                   

l don't want anybody holding

the ends of my pants. Get up from there.



   

                   

Imagine that.

Holding the ends of my pants.



   

                   

Mrs. Semple is entitled by law

to one-third of the estate.



   

                   

- Don't ever get on your knees again.

- No, sir.



   

                   

What'd you say?



   

                   

Mrs. Semple is entitled

to one-third of the estate.



   

                   

One-third.

That's about seven million dollars.



   

                   

Well, we didn't expect that much.



   

                   

I'm sure I can get her

to settle quietly for one million.



   

                   

Take up any settlement talk

with me in the office.



   

                   

I'll do no such thing.



   

                   

That's right. There's only one place

you're going, and that's out the door.



   

                   

- You're making a mistake.

- Oh, no, I'm not.



   

                   

l don't like your face.



   

                   

Besides, there's something fishy about

a person who'd settle for a million...



   

                   

when they can get seven million.



   

                   

I'm surprised that Mr. Cedar,

who's supposed to be a smart man...



   

                   

couldn't see through that.



   

                   

Now, wait a minute, buddy--



   

                   

One nice thing about being rich--

you ring a bell and things happen.



   

                   

When the servant comes in, Mr. Hallor,

I'll ask him to show you to the door.



   

                   

Many people

don't know where it is.



   

                   

No use in getting tough. That'll

get you nowhere. We've got letters.



   

                   

- Show Mr. Hallor to the front door.

- Yes, sir.



   

                   

There isn't any wife, there aren't any

letters, and I think you're a crook...



   

                   

so you'd better watch your step.



   

                   

I can't hold out any longer.



   

                   

Lamb bites wolf.

Beautiful.



   

                   

It's only common sense.



   

                   

I can't hold out any longer either,

Mr. Deeds.



   

                   

Being an attorney for you

will be a very simple affair.



   

                   

You're not my attorney yet, not

until l find out what's on your mind.



   

                   

Suppose you get the books straightened

out so I can have a look at 'em.



   

                   

Yes, of course, if you wish.



   

                   

But you must be prepared. This sort

of thing will be daily routine.



   

                   

If it becomes annoying,

you let me know.



   

                   

Good-bye, Mr. Deeds.



   

                   

Good-bye, sir.



   

                   

Even his hands are oily.



   

                   

Well, how about tonight? What would you

like in the way of entertainment?



   

                   

Entertainment?



   

                   

Your uncle had a weakness for dark ones.

Tall and stately.



   

                   

How would you like yours?

Dark or fair?



   

                   

Tall or short? Fat or thin?

Tough or tender?



   

                   

- What are you talking about?

- Women.



   

                   

Ever heard of 'em?



   

                   

Oh!



   

                   

- Name your poison, and I'll supply it.

- Some other time, Cobb.



   

                   

Okay. You're the boss.



   

                   

When your blood begins to boil,

yell out.



   

                   

I'll be seeing you.



   

                   

He talks about women

as if they were cattle.



   

                   

Every man to his taste, sir.



   

                   

Tell me, Walter, are all these stories

l hear about my uncle true?



   

                   

Well, sir, he sometimes had as many

as    in the house at the same time.



   

                   

- Twenty? What'd he do with 'em?

- That is something l never found out.



   

                   

Hey! You going out?



   

                   

- Yes. Isn't that all right?

- No.



   

                   

- You never go out without telling us.

- Who are you?



   

                   

We're your bodyguards.



   

                   

- Oh, yeah?

- Yeah.



   

                   

Mr. Cobb said

stick to your tail.



   

                   

That's very nice of Mr. Cobb, but l

don't want anybody sticking to my tail.



   

                   

Sorry, mister.

Orders is orders.



   

                   

We gotta get you up in the morning,

put you to bed at night.



   

                   

Only it's all right. No matter

what we see, we don't see nothin', see?



   

                   

- That's gonna be fun.

- Some people like it.



   

                   

- Will you do something for me first?

- Sure.



   

                   

Put that away, slug.

At your service.



   

                   

- Would you get my trunk out for me?

- Certainly.



   

                   

With pleasure.



   

                   

We're your bodyguards!

You can't do this!



   

                   

There he is.



   

                   

- That's him.

- That's who?



   

                   

- Get your cameras ready and follow me.

- What are you gonna do?



   

                   

Never mind. Follow me

and grab whatever you can get.



   

                   

It's gonna be

the same old thing.



   

                   

- That dame is nuts.

- Right.



   

                   

You fainted.



   

                   

Oh, did l? I'm sorry.



   

                   

- Can I help you?

- No, thank you. I'll be all right.



   

                   

This is my house.



   

                   

- I'd like to--

- Oh, no, really, I'll be all right.



   

                   

What happened?



   

                   

Well, l-- I guess

l walked too much.



   

                   

I've been looking

for a job all day.



   

                   

l found one too.

l start tomorrow.



   

                   

You've been awfully kind.

Thank you very much.



   

                   

Hey! Taxi!



   

                   

Hey, Stu, follow that cab

they just got into, will ya!



   

                   

- Hurry up! Step on it!

- Come on, let's go!



   

                   

Feel better now?



   

                   

This tastes so good.



   

                   

Mr. Deeds, l don't know

how l can ever thank you.



   

                   

Tell me more about yourself.



   

                   

Well, l guess I've told you

almost everything there is to tell.



   

                   

My folks live in a small town

near Hartford.



   

                   

I'm down here alone

trying to make a living.



   

                   

I'm really just a nobody.



   

                   

Oh, that was so lovely.

Thank you.



   

                   

You were a lady in distress,

weren't you?



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Nothing.



   

                   

Waiter.



   

                   

- Has anybody come in yet?

- Uh, no. Nobody important.



   

                   

Be sure and point them out to me.



   

                   

I'm a writer myself, you know.

l write poetry.



   

                   

Well...



   

                   

you've been having quite

an exciting time, haven't you?



   

                   

With all these meetings,

business deals, society people...



   

                   

haven't you been having fun?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

That is, I didn't until I met you.

l like talking to you though.



   

                   

Imagine my finding you

right on my doorstep.



   

                   

- Brookfield's just come in.

- Who? The poet? Where?



   

                   

Over at that big round table.

The one that looks like a poodle.



   

                   

Look, there's Brookfield,

the poet.



   

                   

Really?



   

                   

Pardon.



   

                   

Longfellow Deeds, who just inherited

the Semple fortune, wants to meet you.



   

                   

Oh, yes. l read about him.

He writes poetry on postcards.



   

                   

Let's invite him over.

Might get a couple of laughs.



   

                   

Getting rather dull around here.



   

                   

It's always dull here.



   

                   

- I'll get him.

- Good.



   

                   

Mr. Henneberry.

Mr. Morrow. Bill.



   

                   

This is Mr. Deeds and his fiancee

from Mandrake Falls.



   

                   

How do you do, Mr. Deeds?



   

                   

Nice of you to ask us

to come and sit with you.



   

                   

Back home we never get a chance

to meet famous people.



   

                   

- Waiter, a little service here.

- Yes, a drink for Mr. Deeds.



   

                   

- l don't want it, thank you.

- You must. All poets drink.



   

                   

Tell me, Mr. Deeds,

how do you go about writing your poems?



   

                   

We craftsmen are very interested

in one another's methods.



   

                   

Do you have to wait for an inspiration,

or do you just dash it off?



   

                   

- Well, I--

- Morrow just dashes them off.



   

                   

Yeah. That's what my publishers

have been complaining about.



   

                   

Well, your readers don't complain,

Mr. Morrow.



   

                   

Oh. Thanks.



   

                   

How about you, Mr. Deeds?



   

                   

Well, I write mine on order.



   

                   

The people l work for tell me

what they want, and then l write it.



   

                   

Amazing!



   

                   

Why, that's true genius.



   

                   

Have you any peculiar characteristics

when you're creating?



   

                   

Well, I-- l play the tuba.



   

                   

How original.



   

                   

Well, I've been playing the harmonica

for    years.



   

                   

Didn't do me a bit of good.



   

                   

You wouldn't have one

in your pocket, would you?



   

                   

What, a tuba?



   

                   

No, a postcard

with one of your poems on it.



   

                   

- Oh, no.

- You don't carry a pocketful with you?



   

                   

Oh, too bad. l was hoping

you'd autograph one for me.



   

                   

- l was too.

- Now wait a minute, boys.



   

                   

Perhaps Mr. Deeds

would recite one for us.



   

                   

That's a very good idea.



   

                   

Nothing like a poet

reciting his own stuff.



   

                   

How about a Mother's Day poem?



   

                   

Exactly. Give us one that rings

the great American heart.



   

                   

Yes. Go ahead.



   

                   

l get the idea. l know why

l was invited here-- to make fun of me.



   

                   

- Oh, not at all.

- Don't be ridiculous.



   

                   

Look, he's temperamental.



   

                   

Yeah? What if I am?

What about it?



   

                   

It's easy to make fun of somebody

if you don't care how much you hurt 'em.



   

                   

I think your poems are swell,

Mr. Brookfield...



   

                   

but I'm disappointed in you.



   

                   

l must look funny to you...



   

                   

but maybe if you went to Mandrake Falls

you'd look just as funny to us...



   

                   

only nobody would laugh at you

and make you feel ridiculous...



   

                   

because that wouldn't be

good manners.



   

                   

Maybe writing postcard poems is comical,

but a lot of people think they're good.



   

                   

Anyway, it's the best l can do.



   

                   

So if you'll excuse me,

we'll be leaving.



   

                   

l guess l found out that

all famous people aren't big people.



   

                   

Just one thing more.



   

                   

If it weren't for Miss Dawson being

here, I'd bump your heads together.



   

                   

Oh, l don't mind.



   

                   

Then l guess maybe l will.



   

                   

Waiter!



   

                   

Eureka!



   

                   

Stop it.

Go away, go away.



   

                   

Step aside.



   

                   

Say, fella, you neglected me

and I feel very put out.



   

                   

Look, sock it right there, will ya?

Sock it hard.



   

                   

- I've got it off my chest.

- Oh, listen.



   

                   

The difference between them and me is,

I know when I've been a skunk.



   

                   

You take me to the nearest newsstand and

I'll eat a pack of your postcards raw.



   

                   

Raw!



   

                   

Oh, what a magnificent deflation

of smugness!



   

                   

Pal, you've added ten years

to my life.



   

                   

A poet with a straight left

and a right hook? Delicious. Delicious.



   

                   

You're my guest from now on,

forever and a day, even unto eternity.



   

                   

- Thanks, but we're going sightseeing.

- Fine. Fine. Swell.



   

                   

You've just shown me a sight lovely

to behold, and I'd like to reciprocate.



   

                   

Listen, you hop aboard my magic carpet--

Thanks--



   

                   

and I'll show you sights

that you've never seen before.



   

                   

I'd like to see Grant's tomb

and the Statue of Liberty.



   

                   

You'll not only see those,

but before the evening's half through...



   

                   

you'll be leaning against

the Leaning Tower of Pisa...



   

                   

you'll mount Mount Everest.



   

                   

I'll show you the pyramids

and all the little pyramidees...



   

                   

leaping from sphinx to sphinx.



   

                   

Pal, how would you like to go on

a real old-fashioned binge?



   

                   

- Binge?

- Yeah, l mean the regain McCoy.



   

                   

You play saloon with me...



   

                   

and I'll introduce you to every wit,

nitwit and half-wit in New York.



   

                   

We'll go on a twister that'll make

Omar the soused philosopher of Persia...



   

                   

look like an anemic

on a goat's milk diet.



   

                   

- That oughta be fun, huh?

- Fun? Say--



   

                   

Listen, I'll take you

on a bender...



   

                   

that will live in your memory

as a thing of beauty and a joy forever.



   

                   

Boy? Boy, my headpiece!



   

                   

O Tempora! O Mores! O Bacchus!



   

                   

- Oh, you're drunk.

- Oh, you're right!



   

                   

- If we go with him, we'll see things.

- I guess we will.



   

                   

"'I play the tuba to help me think.'



   

                   

This is one of the many startling

statements made by Longfellow Deeds...



   

                   

New York's new Cinderella Man...



   

                   

who went out last night to prove

that his uncle, the late M.W. Semple...



   

                   

from whom he inherited

   million dollars...



   

                   

was an amateur in the art of standing

the town on its cauliflower ear."



   

                   

"Cinderella Man."

That's sensational, Babe, sensational.



   

                   

Took some high-powered acting,

believe me.



   

                   

- Did it?

- I was the world's sweetest ingenue.



   

                   

Is he really that big a sap?



   

                   

He's the original.

There are no carbon copies of that one.



   

                   

"Cinderella Man." That'll stick to him

for the rest of his life.



   

                   

Can you imagine Cobb's face

when he reads this?



   

                   

If we could sell tickets,

we'd make a fortune.



   

                   

- How'd you get the picture?

- Had the boys follow us.



   

                   

Marvelous.



   

                   

"At  :   a.m.

Mr. Deeds tied up traffic...



   

                   

while he fed a bagful of donuts

to a horse.



   

                   

When asked why he was doing it

he replied...



   

                   

'To see how many donuts the horse would

eat before he asked for some coffee."'



   

                   

Beautiful!

What happened after that?



   

                   

l don't know. l had to write the story.

He was so drunk he never even missed me.



   

                   

When are you gonna see him again?



   

                   

Tonight, maybe.



   

                   

I'll phone him at noon--

my lunch hour.



   

                   

I'm a stenographer, you know.

Mary Dawson.



   

                   

You're a genius, Babe, a genius.



   

                   

I even moved into

MabeI Dawson's apartment...



   

                   

in case old snoopy Cobb

might start looking around.



   

                   

Good. Stay there.

Don't show your face down here.



   

                   

I'll say you're on vacation. No one will

know where the stories are coming from.



   

                   

Stick close to him. You can get

an exclusive out of him every day.



   

                   

We'll have the other papers crazy.



   

                   

- Babe, l could kiss ya!

- Oh, no. No.



   

                   

- Our deal was for a month's vacation.

- Sure.



   

                   

- With pay.

- You'll get it, Babe.



   

                   

Mr. Deeds, sir.



   

                   

You really must get up.

It's late.



   

                   

- You're Walter, aren't you?

- Yes, sir.



   

                   

Just wanted to make sure.



   

                   

If you'll permit me to say so, sir, you

were out on quite a bender last night.



   

                   

Bender?

You're wrong, Walter.



   

                   

We started out to a binge,

but we never got to it.



   

                   

Yes, sir.



   

                   

- What's that?

- A prairie oyster, sir.



   

                   

Prairie oyster?



   

                   

Yes, sir.

It makes the head feel smaller.



   

                   

Oh.



   

                   

- Has Miss Dawson called yet?

- No Miss Dawson has called, sir.



   

                   

She was the lady in distress.



   

                   

She wouldn't let me help her.

Had a lot of pride. I like that.



   

                   

Oh, l do too, sir.



   

                   

I'd better call her up and apologize.

l don't remember taking her home.



   

                   

I'd venture to say you don't remember

much of what happened last night, sir.



   

                   

What do you mean?

l remember everything.



   

                   

Hand me my pants. l wrote

her phone number on a piece of paper.



   

                   

You have no pants, sir.



   

                   

You came home last night

without them.



   

                   

- I did what?

- You came home without any clothes.



   

                   

You were in your shorts.



   

                   

Yes, sir.



   

                   

l couldn't walk around on the streets

without any clothes. I'd be arrested.



   

                   

That's what

the two policemen said, sir.



   

                   

- What two policemen?

- The ones who brought you home, sir.



   

                   

They said you and another gentleman kept

going up and down the street shouting...



   

                   

"Back to nature! Clothes are a blight

on civilization! Back to nature!"



   

                   

Listen, Walter, if a man named Morrow

calls up, tell him I'm not in.



   

                   

He may be a great author, but...



   

                   

l think he's crazy, Walter.



   

                   

Yes, sir.



   

                   

Oh, by the way, did you--



   

                   

-The knee.

-But how will l put on the slipper, sir?



   

                   

Yes, sir.



   

                   

l beg pardon, sir, but did you ever

find what you were looking for, sir?



   

                   

Looking for?



   

                   

You kept searching me last night, sir,

going through all my pockets.



   

                   

You said you were looking

for a rhyme for "Budington."



   

                   

- Better bring me some coffee, Walter.

- Very good, sir.



   

                   

Oh, I beg pardon.

A telegram came for you, sir.



   

                   

I'll get you some black coffee, sir.



   

                   

Did you see all this stuff

in the paper?



   

                   

- Arthur wants to quit.

- Arthur? Who's Arthur?



   

                   

He's the shipping clerk

at the tailor works.



   

                   

Wants a two-dollar raise,

or he'll quit.



   

                   

What do I care about Arthur?

Did you see this stuff in the paper?



   

                   

How did it get in there? What did you

do last night? Who were you talking to?



   

                   

And what did you do

to those bodyguards?



   

                   

They quit this morning.

Said you locked them up.



   

                   

They insisted on following me.



   

                   

- What do you think bodyguards are for?

- What do they mean by this?



   

                   

- "Cinderella Man."

- Are those stories true?



   

                   

"Cinderella Man"?



   

                   

They'd call you anything if you gave 'em

a chance. They got you down as a sap.



   

                   

- I'll punch this editor in the nose.

- No, you don't! Get this clear.



   

                   

Socking people in the nose

is no solution for anything.



   

                   

- Sometimes it's the only solution.

- Not editors. Take my word for it.



   

                   

- If they're gonna poke fun at me, I'm--

- Listen, Longfellow.



   

                   

You got brains, kid.



   

                   

You'll get along swell if you'll only

curb your homicidal instincts.



   

                   

And keep your trap shut.

These newshounds are gunning for you.



   

                   

- What about this "Cinderella Man"?

- I'll take care of that.



   

                   

I'll keep that stuff out of the papers,

if you'll help me.



   

                   

But l can't do anything

if you go around talking to people.



   

                   

Will you promise me

to be careful from now on?



   

                   

Yes, l guess I'll have to.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

If you feel the building rock,

it'll be me, blasting into this editor.



   

                   

Cobb's right.

l mustn't talk to anybody.



   

                   

- Miss Dawson on the phone, sir.

- Who? Miss Dawson?



   

                   

- Yes, sir.

- Fine. I'll talk to her.



   

                   

Give me the phone, quick.



   

                   

She's the only one

I'm gonna talk to.



   

                   

- Awfully nice of you to show me around.

- l enjoy it.



   

                   

The aquarium was swell. If l lived

in New York, I'd go every day.



   

                   

l bet you do.



   

                   

I'd like to,

but l have a job to think of.



   

                   

You'd better

keep following that bus!



   

                   

Keep your shirt on!



   

                   

- Looks like no pictures tonight.

- Maybe l oughta get him drunk again.



   

                   

Got any news? l mean, has anything

exciting been happening lately?



   

                   

Sure. l met you.



   

                   

What's happening about the opera?



   

                   

Oh, that. We had another meeting.

l told 'em I'd go on being chairman if--



   

                   

- I'm chairman, you know.

- Yeah, l know.



   

                   

l told 'em I'd play along

if they lowered prices...



   

                   

cut down expenses

and broadcast.



   

                   

Oh. What'd they say?



   

                   

Gee, you look pretty tonight.



   

                   

- What'd they say?

- Huh? Oh.



   

                   

They said l was crazy. They said

l wanted to run it like a grocery store.



   

                   

What are they going to do?



   

                   

Do you always wear your hair

like that?



   

                   

Isn't it a scream?

"Cinderella Man." The dope.



   

                   

Like to get my hooks

into that guy.



   

                   

Don't worry. Someone's

probably taking him for plenty.



   

                   

If they were men

I'd knock their heads together.



   

                   

- Have you seen the papers?

- Uh-huh.



   

                   

That's what I like about you.

You think about a man's feelings.



   

                   

I'd like to punch the fella in the nose

that's writing that stuff.



   

                   

"Cinderella Man."



   

                   

Pretty soon everybody'll

be calling me Cinderella Man.



   

                   

Would you like to walk the rest

of the way? It's so nice out.



   

                   

- Yes.

- Yeah, let's.



   

                   

Hey, wise guys, he's getting off.



   

                   

Come on, pull up to the curb!



   

                   

Oh, come on.

Don't you want to see it?



   

                   

Well, feast your eyes.

Grant's tomb.



   

                   

Is that it?



   

                   

Hey, beetle puss.



   

                   

The tomb.



   

                   

Well, there you are. Grant's tomb.

l hope you're not disappointed.



   

                   

- It's wonderful.

- To most people it's an awful letdown.



   

                   

Huh?



   

                   

I say, to most people it's a washout.



   

                   

That depends on what they see.



   

                   

- And what do you see?

- Me?



   

                   

Oh, l see a small Ohio farm boy...



   

                   

becoming a great soldier.



   

                   

I see thousands of marching men.



   

                   

I see General Lee,

with a broken heart, surrendering.



   

                   

I can see the beginning of a new nation,

like Abraham Lincoln said.



   

                   

And l can see that Ohio boy

being inaugurated as president.



   

                   

Things like that can only happen

in a country like America.



   

                   

Excuse me.



   

                   

Sorry, Mr. Hopper.

Mr. Cedar won't answer his phone.



   

                   

- What's going on in the boss's office?

- Search me.



   

                   

The three C's and little "B"

have been in there over an hour.



   

                   

l don't want to be critical, but--



   

                   

Yes, l know. A week's gone by and

we haven't got power of attorney yet.



   

                   

- Yes, but you said--

- l can't strangle him, can I?



   

                   

It's ridiculous for us

to have to worry about a boy like that.



   

                   

Look at these articles.

"Cinderella Man."



   

                   

- He's carrying on like a idiot.

- Exactly what l was saying--



   

                   

Who cares?



   

                   

- Yeah?

- Mr. and Mrs. Semple are still waiting.



   

                   

Let 'em wait.



   

                   

They've been in

every day this week.



   

                   

- Who are they?

- Relatives of old man Semple.



   

                   

They keep insisting

they should have some nuisance value.



   

                   

- Nuisance value?

- If not for Deeds, they'd be rich.



   

                   

Nuisance value.



   

                   

Maybe they have.



   

                   

Mr. and Mrs. Semple, please.



   

                   

How do you do?

I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting.



   

                   

What was my secretary thinking,

keeping you waiting this long?



   

                   

Will you have a cigar,

Mr. Semple?



   

                   

Thanks.



   

                   

- There's Times Square.

- You can almost spit on it, can't you?



   

                   

Why don't you try?



   

                   

It's breezy up here.



   

                   

You're worried about those articles

they're writing about you, aren't you?



   

                   

Oh, I'm not worrying anymore.



   

                   

They'll go on writing 'em

until they get tired.



   

                   

You don't believe all that stuff,

do you?



   

                   

Oh, they just do it

to sell the newspapers, you know.



   

                   

Yeah, l guess so.



   

                   

What puzzles me is why people

seem to get so much pleasure...



   

                   

out of hurting each other.



   

                   

Why don't they try liking each other

once in a while?



   

                   

Shall we go?



   

                   

Here's a nice place.



   

                   

Yeah. Anyway,

there aren't any photographers around.



   

                   

You said something to me when you first

met me I've thought about a great deal.



   

                   

- What's that?

- You said l was a lady in distress.



   

                   

Oh. That.



   

                   

- What did you mean by that?

- Nothing.



   

                   

Have you got a--



   

                   

Are you engaged or anything?



   

                   

- No. Are you?

- No.



   

                   

You don't go out

with girls very much, do you?



   

                   

- l haven't.

- Why not?



   

                   

Oh, I don't know.



   

                   

You must've met a lot of society girls.

Don't you like them?



   

                   

I haven't met anybody here

that l like particularly.



   

                   

They all seem to have St. Vitus' Dance.

Except you, of course.



   

                   

People here are funny.



   

                   

They work so hard at living,

they forget how to live.



   

                   

Last night, after I left you,

l was walking along...



   

                   

and looking at the tall buildings...



   

                   

and I got to thinkin'

about what Thoreau said--



   

                   

"They created a lot

of grand palaces here...



   

                   

but they forgot to create

the noblemen to put in them."



   

                   

I'd rather have Mandrake Falls.



   

                   

- I'm from a small town too, you know.

- Really?



   

                   

- Probably as small as Mandrake Falls.

- What do you know about that!



   

                   

It's a beautiful little town too.



   

                   

Grove poplar trees

right along main street.



   

                   

Always smells

as if it just had a bath.



   

                   

- I've often thought about going back.

- You have?



   

                   

Oh, yes.



   

                   

I used to have a lot of fun there.

l loved going fishing with my father.



   

                   

You know, that's funny.

He was a lot like you, my father was.



   

                   

He talked like you too.



   

                   

Sometimes he let me hold the line

while he smoked.



   

                   

We'd just sit there for hours.



   

                   

After a while, for no reason,

I'd go over, kiss him, sit in his lap.



   

                   

He never said very much,

but once l remember him saying...



   

                   

"No matter what happens, honey,

don't complain."



   

                   

He sounds like a person

well worth knowing.



   

                   

- He played in the town band too.

- He did?



   

                   

- I play the tuba.

- Yeah, l know.



   

                   

- What did he play?

- Drums. He taught me to play some.



   

                   

- He did?

- Mm-hmm. l can do "Swanee River."



   

                   

- Would you like to hear me?

- Sure.



   

                   

Let's see, now.



   

                   

Way down



   

                   

Upon the Swanee River



   

                   

Far, far away



   

                   

There's where my heart

is going ever



   

                   

There's where the old folks stay



   

                   

Oh, l suppose you could do better.



   

                   

Sure.

l can sing "Humoresque."



   

                   

l bet you don't even know

how it goes.



   

                   

Sure. You sing it over again,

and I'll do "Humoresque" with it.



   

                   

You better be good.



   

                   

l wonder if they want

to make it a quartet.



   

                   

- Ready?

- Yeah.



   

                   

Way down upon the Swanee River



   

                   

Far, far away



   

                   

There's where my heart

is going ever



   

                   

There's where the old folks stay



   

                   

All the world is sad and dreary



   

                   

Everywhere l go



   

                   

Fire engines.



   

                   

Fire engine! l wanna see how they do it.

Wait for me, will you?



   

                   

Looks like the evening's

not gonna be wasted.



   

                   

Hello. What do you want?



   

                   

Captain Deeds, fire volunteer,

Mandrake Falls.



   

                   

Hi, Cap.

Boys, meet the captain.



   

                   

- What's the matter, hon?

- Nothing.



   

                   

What's up, Babe?

Something's eatin' you.



   

                   

No, it's nothing.



   

                   

My unfailing instinct tells me

something's gone wrong with the stew.



   

                   

Don't be ridiculous.



   

                   

You haven't gotten very far, have you?

That's where you were an hour ago.



   

                   

Let's knock off and go down to Joe's.

The gang's waitin' for us.



   

                   

I can't write it, Mabel.

l don't know what's the matter with me.



   

                   

Uh-uh.



   

                   

Yeah, she's here.

Who wants her?



   

                   

Who?



   

                   

Oh, yes.

Yes, just a moment.



   

                   

It's him. Whatchamacallit.

The Cinderella Man.



   

                   

The Cinderella Man.



   

                   

Couldn't sleep. Kind of wanted

to talk to you. Do you mind?



   

                   

No, not at all.

I couldn't sleep either.



   

                   

l wanted to thank you again

for going out with me.



   

                   

Huh?



   

                   

l don't know

what I'd do without you.



   

                   

You've made up

for all the fakes I've met.



   

                   

Well, that's very nice.

Thank you.



   

                   

You know what I've been doin'

since l got home?



   

                   

I've been workin' on a poem.



   

                   

It's about you.



   

                   

Sometimes it's kind of hard for me

to say things, so I write 'em.



   

                   

I'd like to read it sometime.



   

                   

Maybe I'll have it finished

next time I see you.



   

                   

Will I see you soon?



   

                   

Gosh, that's swell, Mary.

Good night.



   

                   

Good night.



   

                   

MabeI, that guy's either the dumbest,

most imbecilic idiot in the world...



   

                   

or the grandest thing alive.



   

                   

- l can't make him out.

- Uh-huh.



   

                   

- I'm crucifying him.

- People have been crucified before.



   

                   

Why do we have to do it?



   

                   

You started out to be

a successful newspaperwoman.



   

                   

- And then what?

- Search me. Ask the Gypsies.



   

                   

Here's a guy

that's wholesome and fresh.



   

                   

To us he looks like a freak.



   

                   

Do you know

what he told me tonight?



   

                   

When he gets married he wants to

carry his bride over the threshold.



   

                   

The guy's balmy.



   

                   

Is he?

Yeah, l thought so too.



   

                   

I tried to laugh,

but it stuck in my throat.



   

                   

Cut it out, will ya? You'll get me

thinking about Charlie again.



   

                   

He's got goodness, Mabel.



   

                   

Do you know what that is?



   

                   

Of course you don't. We've forgotten.

We're too busy being smart alecks.



   

                   

Too busy in a crazy

competition for nothing.



   

                   

l beg pardon, sir.



   

                   

- Madame Pomponi is on the telephone.

- Who?



   

                   

Madame Pomponi. She says that everything

is all set for the reception.



   

                   

- Don't come in here when I'm playing.

- But she's on the telephone, sir.



   

                   

Get out.

The evil finger's on you.



   

                   

- The finger, sir?

- Get out!



   

                   

Stop!



   

                   

- Did you hear that?

- What, sir?



   

                   

Why, that's an echo, sir.



   

                   

- You try it.

- Me, sir?



   

                   

Louder.



   

                   

- You try it.

- Me, sir?



   

                   

Louder.



   

                   

You try it.



   

                   

All together.



   

                   

Again.



   

                   

Let that be a lesson to you.



   

                   

Go back to your rooms,

both of you.



   

                   

Hello, darling.



   

                   

- So good of you to come.

- Oh, Madame Pomponi.



   

                   

- I'm so happy to have you here.

- I'm dying to see the Cinderella Man.



   

                   

-Shh. He may hear you.

-Even if he did, he wouldn't understand.



   

                   

Bad as that, eh?



   

                   

I hear he still believes

in Santa Claus.



   

                   

Will he be Santa Claus?

That's what l wonder.



   

                   

Are your slippers ready

for the Cinderella Man?



   

                   

- Think he'll go for that?

- Don't be bashful.



   

                   

With    million dollars,

he doesn't have to have looks.



   

                   

He won't have it long with

that Pomponi woman hanging around him.



   

                   

My dears, l hear that he can't think

unless he plays his tuba.



   

                   

You're a fool, Babe.



   

                   

I just couldn't stand

seeing him again.



   

                   

Running away is no solution.

What'll l tell him if he calls up?



   

                   

Tell him I had to leave suddenly.

Got a job in China, someplace.



   

                   

- You're acting like a schoolgirl.

- What else can l do?



   

                   

Keeping this up's no good.

He's bound to find out sometime.



   

                   

At least I can save him that.



   

                   

- Where is everybody?

- Come on, Babe. The artillery's ready.



   

                   

It's those two sore spots again.



   

                   

- Should've been down to the office.

- Yeah. Mac threw Cobb out again.



   

                   

- Boy, was he burning.

- Just a minute. No, you don't.



   

                   

Just one little drink,

and then we're ready to shoo.



   

                   

- We're not going out tonight.

- l thought you had a date with him.



   

                   

It's off. He's having

a party at his house.



   

                   

- Say, what's the matter with her now?

- You wouldn't know if l drew a diagram.



   

                   

-Run along. Peddle your little tintypes.

-Say, what is this?



   

                   

Throwing us out of here

is getting to be a regular habit.



   

                   

Is Mary Dawson here?

I'm Longfellow Deeds.



   

                   

Yes. Of course.

Longfellow Deeds.



   

                   

Come in.

Step in, please.



   

                   

You're Mabel, her sister,

aren't you?



   

                   

Yes. Yes. Of course.

Her sister.



   

                   

Yes, I've been her sister

a long time.



   

                   

- Is she home?

- Yeah. What?



   

                   

- Is Mary home?

- Oh, Mary. Yes, of course.



   

                   

I don't know whether she's home or not.

I'll see. There she is.



   

                   

- Hello.

- Hello, Mary.



   

                   

I waited in the park over an hour.

l thought maybe you'd forgotten.



   

                   

l didn't think you could come,

with the party and everything.



   

                   

I wouldn't let them stop me

from seeing you, so l threw them out.



   

                   

- You threw them out?

- You mean, by the neck or something?



   

                   

Sure. They got on my nerves,

so l threw them out.



   

                   

That'll be in the papers tomorrow,

give them something else to laugh at.



   

                   

l don't mind, though.

l had a lot of fun doing it.



   

                   

- Would you like to go for a walk?

- Yeah, if it isn't too late.



   

                   

I'll get my hat.



   

                   

Nice day out--

Nice night, wasn't it-- isn't it?



   

                   

Yes. Lovely.

Had a lot of nice weather lately.



   

                   

Yeah. It'd be a nice night

to go for a walk, don't you think?



   

                   

Yeah, l think it'd be a swell night

to go for a walk. A nice long one.



   

                   

- Ready?

- Gosh.



   

                   

- She looks better every time I see her.

- Thank you.



   

                   

Good night. Don't worry.

l won't keep her out late.



   

                   

Thank you so much.

Good night.



   

                   

- My foot's asleep.

- No, you don't.



   

                   

- Listen, she told us--

- No more photographs.



   

                   

Glad you wanted to take a walk, Mary,

'cause l wanted to talk to you.



    

                   

Let's just walk, hmm?



    

                   

All right.



    

                   

Mary, I'm going home.



    

                   

Are you? When?



    

                   

A day or so, l think.



    

                   

- l don't blame you.

- A man ought to know where he fits in.



    

                   

l just don't fit in around here.



    

                   

l once had an idea

l could do something with the money...



    

                   

but they kept me so busy

I haven't had time to figure it out.



    

                   

l guess I'll wait

till I get back home.



    

                   

Do you mind if I talk to you, Mary?

You don't have to pay any attention.



    

                   

No, l don't mind.



    

                   

All my life

I've wanted somebody to talk to.



    

                   

Back in Mandrake Falls,

l used to always talk to a girl.



    

                   

- A girl?

- Only an imaginary one.



    

                   

l used to hike a lot through the woods,

and I'd always take this girl with me...



    

                   

so l could talk to her.



    

                   

I'd show her my pet trees and things.



    

                   

It sounds kind of silly,

but we had a lot of fun doing it.



    

                   

She was beautiful.



    

                   

l haven't married,

'cause I've been kind of waiting.



    

                   

You know, my mother and father

were a great couple.



    

                   

I thought I might have

the same kind of luck.



    

                   

I've always hoped that someday

that imaginary girl...



    

                   

would turn out to be real.



    

                   

Well, here we are again.



    

                   

Yes, here we are again.

Good night.



    

                   

Good night.



    

                   

Excuse me.



    

                   

Good-bye, darling.



    

                   

Don't let anybody hurt you again, ever.

They can't anyway. You're much too real.



    

                   

You go back to Mandrake Falls.

It's where you belong.



    

                   

Good-bye.



    

                   

You know the poem l told you about?

It's finished.



    

                   

Would you like to read it?

It's to you.



    

                   

Yes. Of course.



    

                   

You don't have to say anything, Mary.

You can tell me tomorrow what you think.



    

                   

"l tramped the Earth

with hopeless feet...



    

                   

searching in vain

for a glimpse of you.



    

                   

Then heaven thrust you

at my very feet...



    

                   

a lovely angel,

too lovely to woo.



    

                   

My dream has been answered,

but my life's just as bleak.



    

                   

I'm handcuffed and speechless

in your presence divine.



    

                   

For my heart longs to cry out.

If it only could speak.



    

                   

I love you, my angel.

Be mine. Be mine."



    

                   

Oh, darling.



    

                   

You don't have to say anything now. I'll

wait till tomorrow to hear from you.



    

                   

What's the big idea?



    

                   

Stop it, Babe. Stop it.



    

                   

What do you mean, you're quitting?

You might as well tell me I'm quitting.



    

                   

What's bothering you?



    

                   

Last night

he proposed to me.



    

                   

Proposed to you?

You mean, he asked you to marry him?



    

                   

- Yes.

- Why, Babe! That's terrific!



    

                   

"Cinderella Man woos mystery girl.

Who is the myster--"



    

                   

Print one line of that

and I'll blow your place up.



    

                   

Sorry, Babe. Sorry.

l just got carried away.



    

                   

That's too bad.

That would've made a swell story.



    

                   

So, he proposed to you?



    

                   

What a twist.

You set out to nail him, and he--



    

                   

Yeah. Funny twist, isn't it?



    

                   

You haven't gone

and fallen for that mug, have you?



    

                   

Well, I'll be.

That's tough.



    

                   

- What are you going to do?

- I'm going to tell him the truth.



    

                   

Tell him you're Babe Bennett? Tell him

you've been making a stooge out of him?



    

                   

I'm having lunch with him today.

He expects an answer.



    

                   

- It's going to be pretty.

- You're crazy. You can't do that.



    

                   

He'll probably kick me

right down the stairs. l hope he does.



    

                   

I'll put you on another job.

You need never see him again.



    

                   

That's the rub.



    

                   

It's as bad as that?



    

                   

Telling him's the long shot.

I'm going to take it.



    

                   

Well, it was fun

while it lasted, Mac.



    

                   

I'll clean out my desk.



    

                   

- How's it going?

- Yes. Quite all right. Thank you, sir.



    

                   

- Gold?

- Yes, sir.



    

                   

- Fourteen karat.

- Yes, sir.



    

                   

- Is that the best you got?

- Yes, sir.



    

                   

Those flowers are too high.

l won't be able to see her.



    

                   

- Get a smaller bowl, will you?

- A smaller bowl of flowers, yes.



    

                   

- Yes, sir. A smaller bowl of flowers.

- Did you get that stuff?



    

                   

- Stuff, sir?

- Yeah, that goo that tastes like soap.



    

                   

Yes, sir. Here it is.

The pate de foie gras, sir.



    

                   

That's fine.

Have a lot of it, 'cause she likes it.



    

                   

- Yes.

- Now you got the idea.



    

                   

That's fine.

Sit over there, will you?



    

                   

- Me, sir?

- Yeah.



    

                   

You're too tall.

Slink lower, will you?



    

                   

Yes.



    

                   

More.



    

                   

Now forward.



    

                   

How is this, sir?



    

                   

Perfect.



    

                   

l wish you luck, sir.



    

                   

Thank you. Now, don't touch a thing.

Leave everything as it is.



    

                   

Yes.



    

                   

- Where are you?

- What is it, sir? Anything happened?



    

                   

"Anything happened?" l got to get

dressed. l can't meet her like this.



    

                   

- But she isn't due for an hour, sir.

- What's an hour? Time flies.



    

                   

- My tie?

- Yes, very good, sir.



    

                   

Yes, sir.



    

                   

Way down upon the Swanee River



    

                   

Just as I suspected,

wise guy.



    

                   

l don't mind you making a sap out of

yourself, but you made one of me too.



    

                   

Will you tell the gentleman

I'm not in?



    

                   

Mary Dawson, hmm?

Mary Dawson, my eye.



    

                   

That dame took you for a sleigh ride

New York will laugh about for years.



    

                   

She's the slickest two-timing,

double-crossing--



    

                   

- What are you talking about?

- Go ahead. Sock away.



    

                   

And then try

to laugh this off.



    

                   

She's the star reporter

on the Mail.



    

                   

Every time you opened your kisser,

you gave her another story.



    

                   

She's the dame who slapped that moniker

on you : Cinderella Man.



    

                   

You've been making love

to a double dose of cyanide.



    

                   

Shut up!



    

                   

Listen, Babe. l can't let you quit now.

Are you going through with this?



    

                   

This is for you, Mac.

Names of all the head waiters in town.



    

                   

You can always buy a better choice of

scandal from them at reasonable prices.



    

                   

I've seen them get in a rut like you

before, but they always come back.



    

                   

Hello? Yes?

Just a minute. It's for you.



    

                   

A couple of weeks, you'll get the itch

so bad you'll be working for nothing.



    

                   

- Hello?

- Babe Bennett? Just a minute.



    

                   

- Hello, Mary?

- Hello, darling.



    

                   

Is it you who's been

writing those articles about me?



    

                   

Why, l was just leaving.

I'll be up there in a minute.



    

                   

Look-- Yes, I did,

but l was just coming up to explain.



    

                   

Listen, darling.

Wait a minute. Please.



    

                   

Listen.



    

                   

I beg pardon, sir. Should

l serve the wine with the squab, sir?



    

                   

I beg pardon, sir?



    

                   

If l knew you were going to take it

so hard, I would've kept my mouth shut.



    

                   

Sorry.



    

                   

Pack my things, Walter.

I'm going home.



    

                   

Yes, sir.



    

                   

You shouldn't be running away like this.

What's going to happen to the estate?



    

                   

They can have the estate.



    

                   

Nobody's going to kick me out.

Let me go!



    

                   

l want to see that guy!

Let me go!



    

                   

I want to see him!

There he is.



    

                   

l just want to get a look at him.

There you are.



    

                   

l just wanted to see

what kind of a man you were.



    

                   

l wanted to see what a man looked like

that could spend thousands on a party...



    

                   

while people around him were hungry.



    

                   

The Cinderella Man? Did you think

how many families could have been fed...



    

                   

on the money you pay out

to get on the front pages?



    

                   

- Let me alone!

- Let him alone.



    

                   

If you know what's good for you,

you'll let me get this off my chest.



    

                   

How did you feel

feeding donuts to a horse?



    

                   

Got a kick out of it?

Got a big laugh?



    

                   

Did you ever think of feeding donuts

to human beings? No!



    

                   

- Shall I call the police, sir?

- No!



    

                   

What do you want?



    

                   

Yeah, that's all that's worrying you:

What do l want?



    

                   

A chance to feed a wife and kids.

I'm a farmer. A job.



    

                   

- That's what l want.

- A farmer? You're a moocher.



    

                   

l wouldn't believe you or anybody else

on a stack of Bibles.



    

                   

You're a moocher like all the rest

of them around here, so get out.



    

                   

Sure, everybody's a moocher to you.



    

                   

A mongrel dog eating out of

a garbage pail is a moocher to you.



    

                   

- This won't do you any good.

- Stay where you are! Get over there!



    

                   

You're about to get

some more publicity, Mr. Deeds.



    

                   

You're about

to get on the front page again.



    

                   

See how you're going

to like it this time.



    

                   

What good's your money when you're six

feet under? You never thought of that.



    

                   

All you ever thought of was pinching

pennies, you money-grabbing hick.



    

                   

You never gave a thought to all of those

starving people in the bread lines...



    

                   

not knowing where

their next meal was coming from...



    

                   

not able

to feed their wife and kids.



    

                   

Not able to--



    

                   

I'm glad l didn't hurt nobody.

Excuse me.



    

                   

Crazy.



    

                   

You get all kinds

of crazy ideas.



    

                   

Sorry.



    

                   

l didn't know

what I was doing.



    

                   

Losing your farm

after    years' work.



    

                   

Seeing your kids go hungry.



    

                   

Game little wife saying

everything's going to be all right.



    

                   

Standing there in the bread lines.



    

                   

It killed me

to take a handout. l--



    

                   

l ain't used to it.



    

                   

Go ahead and do

what you want with me, mister.



    

                   

l guess I'm

at the end of my rope.



    

                   

Could l take some of this

home with me?



    

                   

- Are you married?

- Yes, sir.



    

                   

- Any children?

- No children.



    

                   

All right, Mr. Dodsworth.

l think you'll qualify.



    

                   

Take this to that desk over there

for further instructions.



    

                   

- Thank you very much.

- Next, please.



    

                   

- How many does that make?

- You've okayed    .



    

                   

- Is that all? It's going awfully slow.

- That's all.



    

                   

We need      more.



    

                   

Hello? Yes. Yeah.



    

                   

The water development seems okay.

l don't like the road layout.



    

                   

Come up tonight about   :  

and bring the maps. Right.



    

                   

Here's the order for the plows.

We got a good price on them.



    

                   

That's fine. Thanks.

I'll look them over later.



    

                   

Mr. Deeds, my wife wanted me to tell you

she prays for you every night.



    

                   

l-- Well, thanks.



    

                   

- How do you do? What is your name?

- George Rankin, sir.



    

                   

No, no, we're not buying any bulls.

What's that?



    

                   

Listen, fellow. Bull's

what I've been selling all my life.



    

                   

We've little time. He's ordered me to

turn everything over to him immediately.



    

                   

We have to work fast,

before he disposes of every penny.



    

                   

See, I told you something could be done.

l knew it all the time. Sign it, dear.



    

                   

- We may get into trouble.

- Don't be so squeamish.



    

                   

There's millions involved.

After all, you have your legal rights.



    

                   

- You're his only living relative.

- What's it say?



    

                   

That's your agreement with Mr. Cedar

in case we win.



    

                   

My end is going to be rather expensive.

l have important people to take care of.



    

                   

l have the legal machinery ready to go.

I've been working on nothing else.



    

                   

You say the word, and we'll

stop this yokel dead in his tracks.



    

                   

- Sign it!

- All right.



    

                   

- Charlie, we're off. Papers all set?

- All set.



    

                   

- Go to it. Charlie?

- Yeah?



    

                   

Find out who wrote those articles

and subpoena him right away.



    

                   

- So what is your name?

- Christian Swenson.



    

                   

- Farmer?

- Yes, ma'am.



    

                   

- Where is your farm?

- South Dakota, north.



    

                   

- South Dakota North?

- South Dakota, but on the top.



    

                   

- What about knocking off for lunch?

- Not hungry.



    

                   

l want to get through this work

in a hurry, and then l want to go home.



    

                   

Come on. What are you

trying to do, keel over?



    

                   

You haven't been out of this house

in two weeks.



    

                   

Maybe I'll have a sandwich.

Do you mind waiting a few minutes?



    

                   

Sure. If you like

to have a sandwich...



    

                   

l can give you one, please.



    

                   

Thanks. Thank you.



    

                   

Never mind, Cobb.



    

                   

Good.



    

                   

- Get lunches for the rest of them.

- What?



    

                   

There must be      of them

out there.



    

                   

- That doesn't make them less hungry.

- Okay, Santa Claus.      lunches.



    

                   

Say something.



    

                   

Go ahead. Tell him.



    

                   

Mr. Deeds, the boys here

wanted me to say a little something.



    

                   

They just wanted me to say that--



    

                   

They wanted me to say

that we think you're swell.



    

                   

And that's no baloney.



    

                   

- Say something more.

- Give me a chance, fellows.



    

                   

We're all down and out. A fellow

like you comes along, it gives us hope.



    

                   

- Break it up. Get back.

- They just wanted me to say that I've--



    

                   

That's him.



    

                   

- Are you Longfellow Deeds?

- Yes.



    

                   

Sheriff's office. We got a warrant

to take you into custody.



    

                   

- A what?

- A warrant for your arrest.



    

                   

- What's up? What do you wonks want?

- l don't know nothing.



    

                   

All l know is the sheriff

gives me an insanity warrant to execute.



    

                   

Insanity?

Who says he's insane?



    

                   

The complainant is a relative

of the late Martin Semple.



    

                   

The charges are that Mr. Deeds is insane

and incapable of handling the estate.



    

                   

Somebody got panic-stricken? Where

do you think you're going to take him?



    

                   

- County Hospital.

- Of course, that's only temporary.



    

                   

The hearing

will follow immediately.



    

                   

That's fine.



    

                   

Just because I want to give this money

to people who need it...



    

                   

they think I'm crazy.



    

                   

That's marvelous.



    

                   

- Let's get it going.

- Wait. We're going to get a lawyer.



    

                   

- I'll call Cedar.

- Don't bother.



    

                   

I'm from Mr. Cedar's office.

He represents the complainant.



    

                   

- Let's go. We're wasting time.

- All right. I'll go.



    

                   

But get your hands off me.



    

                   

Come on. Get back.



    

                   

Step back.



    

                   

Come on. Get back.



    

                   

Boss, everybody in town

has been here to see him.



    

                   

Yes, sir. l will. Good-bye.

Sorry, lady. It's you again.



    

                   

- Please. I've got to see him.

- Listen, sister.



    

                   

For the   th and last time,

he don't want to see nobody.



    

                   

- Will you just give him my name?

- Listen, toots.



    

                   

Just between us, there isn't a thing

in the world the matter with that guy...



    

                   

till l mention your name;

then he goes haywire.



    

                   

What are you going to do?

Sit back and let them railroad you?



    

                   

It's as pretty a frame-up

as ever hit this rotten town.



    

                   

If you'd just

let me get you a lawyer.



    

                   

You can't walk into that courtroom

without being ready to protect yourself.



    

                   

Cedar's too smart. With the talent he's

got lined up against you, you'll cook.



    

                   

Listen, pal.

l know just how you feel.



    

                   

A blonde in Syracuse

put me through the same paces.



    

                   

l came out with a sour puss,

but full of fight.



    

                   

Come on.

You don't want to lay down now.



    

                   

They're trying to prove you're nuts.

They'll shove you in the bug house.



    

                   

The moment they accused you of it,

they had you half licked.



    

                   

You've got to fight.



    

                   

Go on.

Sit down, won't you? Yes.



    

                   

So long, Mr. Cobb.



    

                   

Corny, listen, I've got to see him.

I've got to talk to him.



    

                   

Haven't you done

enough damage already?



    

                   

Somebody's got to help him.

He hasn't a chance against Cedar.



    

                   

I've been talking to everybody. I've got

Mac lined up and the paper's behind him.



    

                   

l can get Livingston too. With a lawyer

like Livingston, he's got a chance.



    

                   

You're wasting your time.

He doesn't want any lawyers.



    

                   

He's so low, he doesn't want anybody's

help. You can take a bow for that.



    

                   

As swell a guy as ever hit this town and

you crucified him for some headlines.



    

                   

You've done your bit.

Now stay out of his way.



    

                   

There he is now.



    

                   

Here he is.



    

                   

Cedar just sent for me.

He wants to make a settlement.



    

                   

Here's your chance to get out

of the whole mess. What do you say?



    

                   

Rise, please.



    

                   

Supreme Court, State of New York,

County of New York now in session...



    

                   

the Honorable Judge May presiding.



    

                   

Be seated.



    

                   

The court wishes to warn those present

it will tolerate no disturbances.



    

                   

Regarding the sanity hearing

of Longfellow Deeds...



    

                   

You represented by counsel,

Mr. Deeds?



    

                   

l understand

you have no counsel.



    

                   

In fact, that you have no intention

of defending any of these charges.



    

                   

Now, if you wish to change your mind,

the hearing can be postponed.



    

                   

Crazy.



    

                   

Proceed.



    

                   

In the interest of my client,

the only other living relative...



    

                   

of the late Martin W. Semple...



    

                   

we cannot permit a fortune so huge

to be dissipated by a person...



    

                   

whose incompetency and abnormality we

shall prove beyond any reasonable doubt.



    

                   

I have before me a series of articles

written by a newspaperwoman...



    

                   

who was an eyewitness to this conduct

ever since he came to New York.



    

                   

She tells how in the midst

of a normal conversation...



    

                   

he would suddenly

begin playing his tuba.



    

                   

She tells of his attack upon several

of our eminent writers for no reason.



    

                   

l, myself, unable to keep pace with his

mental quirks and fearful of assault...



    

                   

turned down an opportunity

to represent him as his attorney.



    

                   

This newspaperwoman,

whom we have subpoenaed to testify...



    

                   

tells how he held up traffic for an hour

feeding donuts to a poor horse.



    

                   

We have photographs

to substantiate this little episode.



    

                   

Another photograph showing Mr. Deeds

jumping about a fire engine.



    

                   

This scarcely sounds

like the action of a man...



    

                   

in whom the disposition of $   million

may safely be entrusted.



    

                   

The writer of these articles,

a woman...



    

                   

whose intelligence and integrity in

the newspaper world is unquestioned...



    

                   

held him in such contempt that she quite

aptly named him the Cinderella Man.



    

                   

We have witnesses here

from Mandrake Falls...



    

                   

his own hometown, who will tell of

his conduct throughout his lifetime...



    

                   

proving that his derangement is

neither a recent nor a temporary one.



    

                   

We have others who will tell

of his unusual behavior...



    

                   

when he invited the great leaders

of the musical world to his home...



    

                   

and then proceeded

to forcibly eject them.



    

                   

- l hope he can explain that.

- Yes.



    

                   

Only recently, when he was in

the County Hospital for observation...



    

                   

he not only refused to be examined by

these gentlemen-- state psychiatrists--



    

                   

but he actually made

a violent attack upon them.



    

                   

In these times, with the country

incapacitated by economic ailments...



    

                   

and in danger with an undercurrent

of social unrest...



    

                   

the promulgation of such a weird,

fantastic and impractical plan--



    

                   

as contemplated by the defendant--

is capable of fomenting a disturbance...



    

                   

from which the country

may not soon recover.



    

                   

It is our duty to stop it.



    

                   

Our government

is fully aware of its difficulties.



    

                   

It can pull itself out

of its economic rut...



    

                   

without the assistance of Mr. Deeds

or any other crackpot.



    

                   

His attempted action

must therefore be attributed...



    

                   

to a diseased mind, afflicted

with hallucinations of grandeur...



    

                   

and obsessed with an insane desire

to become a public benefactor.



    

                   

Your Honor, we would like to call our

first witness, Louise "Babe" Bennett.



    

                   

Miss Bennett, please.



    

                   

Raise your right hand, please.



    

                   

Do you swear to tell the truth and

nothing but the truth, so help you God?



    

                   

- l do.

- State your right name.



    

                   

- Louise Bennett.

- Take the stand.



    

                   

Miss Bennett,

are you employed by the Morning Mail?



    

                   

- l ask you direct your attention to me.

- Your Honor, this is ridiculous.



    

                   

- Please answer the question.

- The whole hearing's ridiculous.



    

                   

- That man's no more insane than you.

- Outrageous!



    

                   

It's obviously a frame-up. They're

trying to railroad this man for money.



    

                   

Young lady, another outburst like that,

and I shall hold you in contempt.



    

                   

We are not interested in your opinion of

this case. You are to here to testify.



    

                   

Sit down and answer questions.

Proceed.



    

                   

Thank you, Your Honor.

Are you employed by the Morning Mail?



    

                   

You're under oath, Miss Bennett. Again,

are you employed by the Morning Mail?



    

                   

l resigned last week.



    

                   

Prior to that time,

were you employed by the Morning Mail?



    

                   

- Yes.

- Were you given an assignment...



    

                   

to follow the activities

of Longfellow Deeds?



    

                   

- Yes.

- Did you subsequently write about him?



    

                   

- Yes.

- Are these the articles?



    

                   

- Yes.

- Were you present?



    

                   

- Yes.

- Are they true? They did take place?



    

                   

-They're colored to make him look silly.

-You saw them happen?



    

                   

- Yes, but--

- That's all.



    

                   

It isn't all.

I'd like to explain.



    

                   

- I submit these articles as evidence.

- Let go! What kind of hearing is this?



    

                   

What are you trying to do?

Persecute the man?



    

                   

He's not defending himself.

Somebody's got to do it.



    

                   

- Please.

- I've got a right to be heard.



    

                   

I've attended dozens of cases like this.

They're conducted without any formality.



    

                   

Anybody can be heard. My opinion's

as good as these quack psychiatrists'.



    

                   

I know him better than they do.



    

                   

If you have quite finished,

l should like to inform you...



    

                   

that one more utterance from you,

and l shall place you under arrest.



    

                   

I'm willing to hear

anything anyone has to say...



    

                   

but I insist on it being done

in an orderly fashion.



    

                   

When you have learned to show some

respect for this court, you may return.



    

                   

Until then, you'd better

go back to your seat and calm down.



    

                   

This way, miss.



    

                   

Order in the court.



    

                   

Mr. Deeds, have you anything to say

in defense of these articles?



    

                   

Mark these Exhibit "A"

for the plaintiff.



    

                   

Yes, Your Honor.



    

                   

Proceed.



    

                   

They're rather timid, Your Honor,

and wish to be together.



    

                   

If the court pleases,

I'll only have one testify.



    

                   

- Yes. Get on with it.

- What is your name, please?



    

                   

- Jane Faulkner. This is my sister Amy.

- Yes. Amy.



    

                   

I'll direct my questions

to you, Miss Jane.



    

                   

You may answer for both.

Do you know the defendant?



    

                   

Yes. Of course we know him.



    

                   

How long have you known him?



    

                   

- Since he was born.

- Yes. Elsie Taggart was the midwife.



    

                   

- He was a seven-months baby.

- Thank you. That's fine.



    

                   

Do you see him very often?



    

                   

- Most every day.

- Sometimes twice.



    

                   

- Must we have the echo?

- Suppose you just answer, Miss Jane.



    

                   

Will you tell the court what everybody

at home thinks of Longfellow Deeds?



    

                   

- They think he's pixilated.

- Yes. Pixilated.



    

                   

- He's what?

- What was that you said he was?



    

                   

- Pixilated.

- That's rather a strange word to us.



    

                   

- Can you tell the court what it means?

- Perhaps l can explain, Your Honor.



    

                   

The word "pixilated"

is an early-American expression...



    

                   

derived from the word "pixies,"

meaning "elves."



    

                   

They'd say, "The pixies had got him,"

as we'd nowadays say a man is "balmy."



    

                   

Is that correct?



    

                   

Why does everyone think he's pixilated?

Does he do peculiar things?



    

                   

He walks in the rain without his hat

and talks to himself.



    

                   

- Sometimes he whistles.

- And sings.



    

                   

Anything else?



    

                   

- He gave Chuck Dillon a thumping.

- Blacked his eye.



    

                   

- Why?

- For no reason, l guess.



    

                   

He always does it. We run into the house

when we see him coming.



    

                   

Never can tell

what he's going to do.



    

                   

- He sure is pixilated.

- Yes. He's pixilated, all right.



    

                   

Thank you, ladies.

That's all.



    

                   

They kept hollering,

"Back to nature!"



    

                   

I thought they looked harmless enough,

so l took them home.



    

                   

l never thought

he was cracked.



    

                   

I'm a waiter. He kept pressing me

to point out the celebrities.



    

                   

I said, "Help me." I'm coming out of

the kitchen a couple of minutes later...



    

                   

and there he is

mopping up the floors with them.



    

                   

l never figured he was a guy

that was looking for trouble.



    

                   

He threw us out bodily,

but bodily!



    

                   

We was hired as his bodyguard, see?

The first crack out of the box...



    

                   

he throws us in a room

and locks the door, see?



    

                   

If a thing like that gets around

in our profession, we get the bird, see?



    

                   

So l says to my partner,

"Let's quit this guy. He's nuts!"



    

                   

I'm very fond of Clarissa.

She's a nice horse.



    

                   

And when this bloke here

started feeding her donuts...



    

                   

l yelled down to him,

"Mind what you're doing down there."



    

                   

l wouldn't mind, sir, but Clara

won't eat nothin' but donuts now.



    

                   

And now, if the court pleases,

l shall call upon Dr. Emil Von Hallor...



    

                   

if he'll be good enough

to give us his opinion.



    

                   

Dr. Von Hallor

is the eminent Austrian psychiatrist...



    

                   

probably the greatest authority

on the subject in the world.



    

                   

At present, he's in this country

on a lecture tour...



    

                   

and has graciously

volunteered his services.



    

                   

Do you swear the testimony you give

in the cause now before this court...



    

                   

shall be the truth, the whole truth

and nothing but the truth?



    

                   

- State your right name, please.

- Emil Von Hallor.



    

                   

Take the stand.



    

                   

Dr. Von Hallor, would you tell the court

what your opinion is of this case?



    

                   

This is purely a case

of manic depression.



    

                   

A case of this kind,

patients sometimes go on for years...



    

                   

before being detected.



    

                   

You remember, Dr. Fosdick,

in my last book...



    

                   

there were some very fine examples,

especially the young nobleman.



    

                   

- You remember?

- Yes, Dr. Von Hallor. Very interesting.



    

                   

It reminds me very much of this one.



    

                   

It takes so long to detect them...



    

                   

because their mood

changes so often and so quickly.



    

                   

Now, Your Honor, may l show you?

May I use the chart?



    

                   

By all means.



    

                   

Below here,

they are extremely depressed...



    

                   

melancholy, impossible to live with

and often become violent.



    

                   

From this mood...



    

                   

the manic depressive

might gradually change...



    

                   

until they reach this state.



    

                   

Here is lucidity. Here they are

normal, as normal as you or I.



    

                   

Assuming, of course,

that we are normal.



    

                   

Then the mood changes again...



    

                   

until they reach this state...



    

                   

a state of highest exultation.



    

                   

Here, everything is fine.

Here, the world is beautiful.



    

                   

Here, they are so elated--

How to express it?



    

                   

They would give you

the shirts off their backs.



    

                   

How would you say

that applied to Mr. Deeds' case?



    

                   

The symptoms are obvious.



    

                   

When he was here,

on top of the wave...



    

                   

he felt nothing but kindliness

and warmth for his fellow man.



    

                   

He wanted to have them around him,

so he decided to give a big reception.



    

                   

But in the meantime,

his mood has changed.



    

                   

He's now at the bottom of the wave:

depressed, melancholy.



    

                   

So when his guests arrive,

he throws them out.



    

                   

They are now

his imaginary enemies.



    

                   

Other instances

of high elations are...



    

                   

when he plays his tuba,

when he writes his poetry...



    

                   

when he chases fire engines

in a desire to help humanity.



    

                   

This is contrasted

with his present mood...



    

                   

which is so low that even the instinct

for self-preservation is lacking.



    

                   

Your Honor, this is decidedly

a case of manic depression.



    

                   

Thank you very much, Doctor.



    

                   

Your Honor, we rest.



    

                   

What are you going to do,

let them get away with it?



    

                   

They've got you cooked.



    

                   

He's sunk.



    

                   

Before the court arrives at a decision,

isn't there anything you wish to say?



    

                   

Come on. Don't be a sap.



    

                   

- You both concur?

- Absolutely.



    

                   

All right.



    

                   

In view of the extensive testimony,

your continued silence...



    

                   

and on the recommendation

of the doctors...



    

                   

the court considers it advisable,

for your own safety...



    

                   

that you be committed

to an institution...



    

                   

as prescribed by law.



    

                   

You need medical attention,

Mr. Deeds.



    

                   

Perhaps in a little while--



    

                   

Wait a minute. You can't do it.

You've got to make him talk.



    

                   

- Your Honor, l object.

- Please. l know how horrible I've been.



    

                   

No matter what happens-- if you

never see me again-- do this for me.



    

                   

- Please.

- You said l could speak.



    

                   

You said I could have my say

if l were rational. I'm rational.



    

                   

Please let me

take the witness chair.



    

                   

He must be made to defend himself

before you arrive at a decision.



    

                   

- Take the stand.

- Thank you.



    

                   

Your Honor, what she is saying

has no bearing on the case. l object.



    

                   

- Let her speak.

- l know why he won't defend himself.



    

                   

That has a bearing on the case,

hasn't it? He's been hurt.



    

                   

He's been hurt by everybody he's met

since he came here, principality by me.



    

                   

He's been the victim

of every conniving crook in town.



    

                   

The newspapers pounced on him, made him

a target for their feeble humor.



    

                   

l was smarter than the rest of them.

I got closer so l could laugh louder.



    

                   

Why shouldn't he keep quiet?

Every time he said anything...



    

                   

it was twisted around

to sound imbecilic.



    

                   

He can thank me for it.

l handed the gang a grand laugh.



    

                   

It's a fitting climax

to my sense of humor.



    

                   

- Your Honor, this is preposterous.

- Certainly l wrote those articles.



    

                   

l was going to get a raise,

a month's vacation.



    

                   

But l stopped writing them when

I found out what he was all about...



    

                   

when l realized how real he was.



    

                   

He could never fit in

with our distorted viewpoint...



    

                   

because he's honest

and sincere and good.



    

                   

If that man's crazy...



    

                   

the rest of us

belong in straitjackets!



    

                   

This is absurd.

The woman's obviously in love with him.



    

                   

- What's that got to do with it?

- You are in love with him, aren't you?



    

                   

- What's that got to do with it?

- You are, aren't you?



    

                   

- Yes!

- Her testimony's of no value.



    

                   

Why shouldn't she defend him?

It's typical of American womanhood.



    

                   

Protect the weak.



    

                   

I'm not saying nobody likes the boy.

I have a fond affection for him myself.



    

                   

- But that doesn't mean to say--

- I can verify what Miss Bennett said.



    

                   

I'm her editor. When she quit, she told

me what a swell fellow this man was...



    

                   

and anything Babe Bennett says

is okay with me.



    

                   

If you have anything to say,

you will take the stand.



    

                   

I've already said it, Your Honor. I just

thought I'd like to get my two cents in.



    

                   

Don't be a sucker, pal.

Stand up and speak your piece.



    

                   

-Your Honor, I've got a couple of cents.

-Sit down.



    

                   

I've been with this man

ever since he came to New York.



    

                   

Sit down ! There will be

no further interruptions.



    

                   

- How about us, Mr. Deeds?

- Yes, what about us, Mr. Deeds?



    

                   

- Order in the court!

- You're going to leave us in the cold?



    

                   

They're trying to frame you.



    

                   

- Stop this.

- Order!



    

                   

Order.



    

                   

In the interest of Mr. Deeds, l have

tolerated a great deal of informality.



    

                   

But if there is one more outburst,

l shall have the courtroom cleared.



    

                   

- Your Honor?

- Yes?



    

                   

I'd like to get in

my two cents' worth.



    

                   

Take the stand.



    

                   

Proceed.



    

                   

I don't know where to begin. There have

been so many things said about me that--



    

                   

About my playing the tuba. It seems like

a lot of fuss has been made about that.



    

                   

If a man's crazy

just because he plays the tuba...



    

                   

then somebody'd

better look into it...



    

                   

because there are a lot of tuba players

running around loose.



    

                   

I don't see any harm in it. l play mine

whenever l want to concentrate.



    

                   

That may sound funny

to some people...



    

                   

but everybody does something silly

when they're thinking.



    

                   

For instance,

the judge here...



    

                   

is an "O" filler.



    

                   

- A what?

- An "O" filler.



    

                   

You fill in all the spaces in the O's

with your pencil. l was watching.



    

                   

That may make you

look a little crazy, Your Honor...



    

                   

just sitting around,

filling in O's...



    

                   

but l don't see anything wrong,

'cause that helps you think.



    

                   

- Other people are doodlers.

- Doodlers?



    

                   

Yeah, that's a name

we made up back home...



    

                   

for people who make foolish designs

on paper when they're thinking.



    

                   

It's called doodling.

Almost everybody's a doodler.



    

                   

Did you ever see a scratch pad

in a telephone booth?



    

                   

People draw the most idiotic pictures

when they're thinking.



    

                   

Dr. Von Hallor here could probably

think up a long name for it...



    

                   

because he doodles all the time.



    

                   

Thank you.



    

                   

This is a piece of paper

he was scribbling on.



    

                   

I can't figure it out.

One minute it looks like a chimpanzee.



    

                   

The next minute it looks like a picture

of Mr. Cedar. You look at it.



    

                   

Exhibit "A" for the defense.



    

                   

Looks kind of stupid, doesn't it?

But l guess that's all right.



    

                   

If Dr. Von Hallor has to doodle

to help him think...



    

                   

that's his business.



    

                   

Everybody does something different.

Some people are ear pullers.



    

                   

Some are nail biters.



    

                   

That Mr. Semple over there...



    

                   

is a nose twitcher.



    

                   

The lady next to him

is a knuckle cracker.



    

                   

So you see, everybody does silly things

to help them think.



    

                   

Well, l play the tuba.



    

                   

- Nice work, toots!

- Order in this court!



    

                   

This is becoming farcical.

l demand Mr. Deeds...



    

                   

dispense with side remarks

and confine himself to facts.



    

                   

Let him explain his wanderings

around the street in his underclothes...



    

                   

his feeding donuts to horses.



    

                   

Please. Proceed.



    

                   

Mr. Cedar's right. Those things

do look kind of bad, don't they?



    

                   

But to tell you the truth,

Your Honor, l don't remember them.



    

                   

l guess they happened,

because I don't think a policeman...



    

                   

would lie about a thing like that,

but l was drunk.



    

                   

It was the first time l was ever drunk.

It's probably happened to you some time.



    

                   

l mean,

when you were younger, of course.



    

                   

It's likely

to happen to anybody.



    

                   

Just the other morning, I read in

the paper about Mr. Cedar's own son...



    

                   

how he got drunk and insisted on driving

a taxicab while the driver sat inside.



    

                   

Isn't that so?



    

                   

- Your Honor, l object.

- Proceed.



    

                   

Now, about the Faulkner sisters.



    

                   

That's funny, Mr. Cedar going to

Mandrake Falls to bring them here.



    

                   

- Do you mind if l talk to them?

- Not at all.



    

                   

Who owns the house

you live in?



    

                   

- Why, you own it, Longfellow.

- Yes, you own it.



    

                   

- Do you pay any rent?

- No, we don't pay any rent.



    

                   

Good heavens, no.



    

                   

- We never pay rent.

- Are you happy there?



    

                   

- Oh, yes.

- Yes, indeed.



    

                   

Now, Jane, a little while ago

you said l was pixilated.



    

                   

Do you still think so?



    

                   

Why, you've always been pixilated,

Longfellow.



    

                   

- Always.

- That's fine.



    

                   

I guess maybe l am.



    

                   

Now, tell me something, Jane.

Who else in Mandrake Falls is pixilated?



    

                   

Why, everybody in Mandrake Falls

is pixilated, except us.



    

                   

Now, just one more question.



    

                   

You see the judge here.

He's a nice man, isn't he?



    

                   

- Do you think he's pixilated?

- Yes.



    

                   

Yes, indeed.



    

                   

You haven't yet touched

upon the most important point:



    

                   

this rather fantastic idea of yours

to give away your entire fortune.



    

                   

It is, to say the least,

most uncommon.



    

                   

Yes. Yes, I was getting to that,

Your Honor.



    

                   

Suppose you were living in a small town

and getting along fine...



    

                   

and suddenly somebody

dropped $   million in your lap.



    

                   

Supposing you discover all that money

was messing up your life...



    

                   

was bringing vultures around your neck

and making you lose faith in everybody.



    

                   

You'd be worried, wouldn't you?



    

                   

You'd feel that you had a hot potato

in your hand, and you'd want to drop it.



    

                   

l guess Dr. Von Hallor here would say

you were riding on those bottom waves...



    

                   

because you wanted to drop something

that was burning your fingers.



    

                   

If this man is permitted to carry out

his plan, repercussions will be felt...



    

                   

that will rock the foundation

of our entire governmental systems.



    

                   

Please, Mr. Cedar.

Proceed.



    

                   

Personally, l don't know

what Mr. Cedar is raving about.



    

                   

From what l can see, no matter

what system of government we have...



    

                   

there'll always be leaders

and always be followers.



    

                   

It's like the road out in front

of my house. It's on a steep hill.



    

                   

Every day,

I watch the cars climbing up.



    

                   

Some go lickety-split up that hill

on high; some have to shift into second.



    

                   

Some sputter and shake

and slip back to the bottom again.



    

                   

Same cars, same gasoline,

yet some make it and some don't.



    

                   

l say the fellows who can make the hill

should stop and help those who can't.



    

                   

That's all I'm trying to do: help

fellows who can't make the hill on high.



    

                   

What does Mr. Cedar

expect me to do with it?



    

                   

Give it to him and a lot of other people

who don't need it?



    

                   

If you don't mind, Your Honor, I'll

ride on those top waves for a minute.



    

                   

All you fellows up there, all those

who applied for a farm, stand up.



    

                   

See all those fellows?

They're the ones I'm trying to help.



    

                   

They need it. Mr. Cedar and Mr. Semple

don't need anything. They've got plenty.



    

                   

It's like I'm out in a big boat,

and I see one fellow in a rowboat...



    

                   

who's tired of rowing and wants

a free ride and another who's drowning.



    

                   

Who would you expect me to rescue?

Mr. Cedar, who wants a free ride?



    

                   

Or those men out there

who are drowning?



    

                   

Any ten-year-old child will give you

the answer to that. Thank you. Sit down.



    

                   

Now, my plan was very simple.



    

                   

l was gonna give each family    acres,

a horse, a cow and some seed...



    

                   

and if they worked the farm

for three years, it's theirs.



    

                   

Now, if that's crazy, maybe

l ought to be sent to an institution...



    

                   

but I don't think it is,

and Mr. Cedar doesn't either.



    

                   

Before the hearing, he offered to call

everything off if l made a settlement.



    

                   

So you see, he wouldn't think

I was crazy if he got paid off.



    

                   

It's a lie growing

in his warped imagination.



    

                   

I never heard anything

so colossally stupid in my life.



    

                   

It's an insult to our intelligence to

sit and listen to such childish ravings.



    

                   

- You will permit Mr. Deeds to finish.

- But, Your Honor--



    

                   

- Anything else, Mr. Deeds?

- No.



    

                   

Yes. There is one more thing I'd like

to get off my chest before l finish.



    

                   

- Proceed.

- Thank you, Your Honor.



    

                   

Order! Order this man

back to his chair!



    

                   

Order!



    

                   

Remain seated and come to order.

The court is again in session.



    

                   

Before the court

announces its decision...



    

                   

l want to warn all who are here

that the police have orders...



    

                   

to arrest

anyone creating a disturbance.



    

                   

Mr. Deeds, there has been a great deal

of damaging testimony against you.



    

                   

Your behavior,

to say the least, has been...



    

                   

most strange.



    

                   

But in the opinion of the court,

you are not only sane...



    

                   

but you are the sanest man

that ever walked into this courtroom.



    

                   

Case dismissed.



    

                   

You nose twitcher.



    

                   

I knew it. You--



    

                   

- He's still pixilated.

- He sure is.











  

 
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