The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Danny Kaye movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty. 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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The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty Script


  

  

 

                   

Not so fast!

You're driving too fast!



 

                   

What are you driving so fast for?



 

                   

You were up to 35.

You know I don't like to go over 30!



 

                   

You're always doing something else and

having your mind on something else.



 

                   

- I'm sorry, Mother.

- You haven't heard a word I said.



 

                   

- Yes, I have.

- What did I say?



 

                   

You said I was up to   

and you didn't like me to go over   .



 

                   

Not that. I said we're going

to have it in a church.



 

                   

- Have what, Mother?

- The wedding!



  

                   

- Oh.

- See? You weren't listening.



  

                   

Red light, Walter.



  

                   

That reminds me.



  

                   

Bring me home some soap chips.

I like the Sea Drift brand.



  

                   

They don't make you sneeze.



  

                   

Go ahead, Walter.



  

                   

Now don't forget the name: Sea Drift.



  

                   

Somewhere off the South China coast,

in the worst typhoon in    years...



  

                   

the little schooner, India Queen,

plowed through an ocean gone mad.



  

                   

Straining pumps went

ta-pocketa, ta-pocketa.



  

                   

Up on deck, Captain Walter Mitty

stood at the helm...



  

                   

fighting courageously from keeping

this tortured vessel...



  

                   

from being smashed to bits.



  

                   

What are you doing here?

Get below!



  

                   

Can't I help? You haven't had

your clothes off in three days!



  

                   

Somebody's gotta get

the India Queen through.



  

                   

There's half a million dollars

of rare spices aboard this ship!



  

                   

I promised your father

I'd get it through.



  

                   

Captain Mitty, you're hurt!



  

                   

It's nothing!

Just a broken arm!



  

                   

Walter! Watch out!



  

                   

I'm sorry.



  

                   

Did you write down all the things

I told you to write down?



  

                   

- I'll remember them.

- Oh, no, you won't.



  

                   

You just make a note of it

in your little black book.



  

                   

Number two thread.



  

                   

- Snapdragon seeds.

- Wait a minute.



  

                   

Sock stretchers,

can of Gleamo Floor Wax...



  

                   

- Gleamo what?

- Gleamo Floor Wax.



  

                   

Fly spray.



  

                   

- What's that "SS"?

- Sock stretchers.



  

                   

- Well, write it out.

- All right.



  

                   

And cheese grater.



  

                   

And don't forget to return

this sprinkling can.



  

                   

I tried it out this morning,

and the holes are too small.



  

                   

Tell them I have better things to do

than wait for the water to come out.



  

                   

Bye, darling.



  

                   

Careful, sweet.

Don't forget the cake!



  

                   

- What?

- The cake!



  

                   

Back in the car, please.



  

                   

Keep that thing in, bud!



  

                   

"Pierce Publishing Company"



  

                   

Excuse me.



  

                   

- Morning.

- Good morning.



  

                   

Here are those drawings you wanted.



  

                   

Oh, yeah. Thank you.



  

                   

Oh, that's pretty, Mr. Grimsby.



  

                   

Yeah, it's a bit mild.



  

                   

I think I ought to tear the dress

off her other shoulder.



  

                   

You could use a little more blood

on the ax.



  

                   

Well, good morning, everybody.



  

                   

You think I'd forgotten you?

Here we are.



  

                   

Now stop, Elmer.

You've had enough already.



  

                   

Come on. There.



  

                   

Hey, dream boy.



  

                   

- The old man's screaming for you.

- Oh! The conference.



  

                   

Let's see. "Spicy Sea Stories."

Here we are.



  

                   

"Air Aces."



  

                   

Hold it!

Raise your hands just a little.



  

                   

Still!



  

                   

- Hello, Fred.

- How's it going, Walter?



  

                   

Fine.



  

                   

Gentlemen, it will be

the regular practice of the firm till...



  

                   

Well, Mitty.



  

                   

So you finally chose to honor us

with your presence.



  

                   

- Yes, sir.

- Where are the proofs to "Air Aces"?



  

                   

- Right here, Mr. Pierce. Ready to go.

- Put it to bed.



  

                   

- Mitty!

- Yes, sir?



  

                   

What is the meaning of this?



  

                   

Meaning of what, Mr. Pierce?



  

                   

You had the vampire killed off...



  

                   

of the first installment

of "The Lady And The Vampire."



  

                   

There are    issues to go.



  

                   

- But he isn't really dead.

- What do you mean he isn't dead?



  

                   

The villagers drove a stake

through his heart!



  

                   

Anybody knows that kills a vampire!



  

                   

Yes, but if you read further on you'll

find the stake only went through a lung.



  

                   

You don't have to worry. He'll be back

sucking blood in the next issue.



  

                   

Well, sit down.



  

                   

If you'd been here on time

you'd know why I called this meeting.



  

                   

To repeat, ladies and gentlemen:



  

                   

Ours is a great and proud list

of magazines.



  

                   

"Racy Detective Stories,

"Astounding Adventure Tales"...



  

                   

"Wild Confessions,

"Air Aces."



  

                   

- "Frontier Stories"...

- "Exotic Love Stories."



  

                   

- And "Sensational Murders."

- And "Sen..."



  

                   

Mitty, when I need your help

I'll ask for it.



  

                   

But a new and virgin field of fiction

has come to my attention.



  

                   

A rich and as yet untapped vein...



  

                   

embracing thousands

of undiscovered readers.



   

                   

Starting the first of next month

we go to press with a new baby.



   

                   

"Hospital Love Stories."



   

                   

- Congratulations! You've done it again!

- Thank you, gentlemen.



   

                   

- Well, what do you think?

- Oh! I've always liked it, Mr. Pierce.



   

                   

Don't you remember? I suggested the idea

in a memorandum last month.



   

                   

Oh, that!

I had this idea two years ago.



   

                   

Now, the type of stories we need...



   

                   

You may take notes, gentlemen.



   

                   

Now, let me see.



   

                   

"Hospital Love Stories."



   

                   

What have we got to sell?



   

                   

Beautiful blonde nurses.



   

                   

We can't have too many nurses.



   

                   

Capture the glamour of the hospital.

You get the idea?



   

                   

With the compassionate look of a man

who had seen much too much pain...



   

                   

Dr. Walter Mitty,

the surgical genius...



   

                   

entered the breathless hush

of the operating room...



   

                   

the sound of the huge

anesthetizing machine...



   

                   

going ta-pocketa, ta-pocketa.



   

                   

There were whispered introductions.



   

                   

I'm glad you came.

Dr. Remington. Dr. Renshaw.



   

                   

Dr. Pritchard-Midford,

St. John's Hospital, London.



   

                   

- Dr. Walter Mitty.

- Gentlemen.



   

                   

The new anesthetizer's giving way.



   

                   

There's no one in the East

who knows how to fix it.



   

                   

Quiet, man.



   

                   

Give me your fountain pen.



   

                   

- That will hold for ten minutes.

- Astounding!



   

                   

He's not only the greatest surgeon

in the world...



   

                   

he's also a mechanical genius.



   

                   

You'd better get on

with the operation.



   

                   

Good heavens!



   

                   

- What is it?

- Coreopsis has set in.



   

                   

Poor devil!



   

                   

Would you take over, Mitty?



   

                   

If you wish.



   

                   

It's hopeless.



   

                   

There's only one chance, gentlemen.



   

                   

The Vienna Trepan.



   

                   

The operation Heinzelman

performed on a rabbit?



   

                   

Precisely.



   

                   

Blood pressure, please.



   

                   

Thirty over two hundred.



   

                   

Scalpel.



   

                   

Sock stretcher.



   

                   

Sprinkling can.



   

                   

Cheese grater.



   

                   

Floor wax.



   

                   

Needle and number two threads.



   

                   

There you are.



   

                   

Oh, Doctor, do you think...



   

                   

- Will he...

- There, there, Miss Cartwright.



   

                   

Your brother will play the violin again.



   

                   

I just grafted new fingers on him.



   

                   

Oh, you're wonderful!



   

                   

Wonderful!



   

                   

You'll want some rest now.



   

                   

Wonderful.



   

                   

Mitty! I asked you a question.

I expect an answer!



   

                   

What's that?



   

                   

I was just thinking, sir.



   

                   

We might possibly put out

a pocket-size edition.



   

                   

- Pocket-size edition?

- Yes, sir.



   

                   

- For pockets.

- You weren't thinking at all!



   

                   

- You were daydreaming again!

- Oh, no, sir! I was really thinking.



   

                   

I was thinking about hospitals

for hospital stories.



   

                   

I finished talking about hospitals

ten minutes ago!



   

                   

The subject, for your information,

is the next issue of "Racy Detective."



   

                   

Pocket-size edition.



   

                   

Not a bad idea.



   

                   

- Hello.

- Hello, Mother.



   

                   

- You forgot to bring the cake.

- What cake?



   

                   

Gertrude and her mother

are coming to dinner.



   

                   

I asked you to bring home a cake.



   

                   

What's that thing?



   

                   

I thought you said "rake."



   

                   

You're getting more absent-minded

every day.



   

                   

It's all that daydreaming you do.



   

                   

I brought everything else:

The number two thread...



   

                   

the Gleamo wax, the sock stretchers.



   

                   

- Did you bring the snapdragon seeds?

- No. They didn't have any.



   

                   

The man said petunias

were just as pretty.



   

                   

Don't you ever forget.

When I say snapdragon seeds...



   

                   

I mean snapdragon seeds.



   

                   

Yes, Mother.



   

                   

Just leave everything in the hall.

I'll take care of it.



   

                   

Hurry and get cleaned up.

They'll be here any minute.



   

                   

All right, Mother.



   

                   

- Is there any mail for me?

- No.



   

                   

- Who are you expecting a letter from?

- Nobody.



   

                   

I just thought there might be some mail.



   

                   

Don't use the guest towels.



   

                   

I just put them up.



   

                   

Use the one on your door.



   

                   

All right, Mother.



   

                   

And put on that clean shirt

I hung up for you.



   

                   

And use some of the cologne

Gertrude gave you for Christmas.



   

                   

Do I have to?

It smells like ether.



   

                   

Don't be silly.

It's lovely...



   

                   

and the least you can do

for your fiancee.



   

                   

Oh, all right.



   

                   

Oh, gosh!



   

                   

- Irmagarde!

- Eunice, how are you?



   

                   

Come in, dear...

and Gertrude.



   

                   

My, what a sweet hat!



   

                   

And, Gertrude, you look

too cute for words.



   

                   

I hope you don't mind my bringing

Queenie, Mrs. Mitty.



   

                   

She doesn't like to be alone.



   

                   

Do you, Queenie,

in that great, big empty house?



   

                   

Not at all, dear.



   

                   

Walter, there's someone down here

to see you, dear.



   

                   

- Hello, Mrs. Griswold.

- Dear Walter.



   

                   

- Hello, Gertrude.

- Come along, Irmagarde.



   

                   

What's that awful smell?



   

                   

It's that cologne you gave me

for Christmas.



   

                   

It's lovely, isn't it?



   

                   

Queenie, say hello

to your future daddy...



   

                   

"Walty Mittens."



   

                   

Don't stand there like a stick.

Wave back.



   

                   

Hello, Queenie.



   

                   

Naughty Queenie!



   

                   

There you are, Queenie.



   

                   

Mommy's precious.



   

                   

- Have you talked to your boss yet?

- No, I haven't.



   

                   

I certainly think you should talk

to him and get two or three months off.



   

                   

- Two or three months!

- Frankly I don't approve of honeymoons.



   

                   

All that packing!



   

                   

Walter's always head his heart set

on seeing Yellowstone Park.



   

                   

- Why?

- Why?



   

                   

I don't know. I just thought

I'd like to see Yellowstone Park.



   

                   

Do they let dogs in there?



   

                   

Honey, you weren't thinking

of taking Queenie along?



   

                   

- I was only asking!

- I wouldn't dream of leaving Queenie!



   

                   

Queenie and Walter don't trust each

other. That's why they don't get along.



   

                   

She always starts!

You see?



   

                   

Queenie, you old crosspatch.



   

                   

I don't think she's feeling well.



   

                   

Why don't you try that new

vitamin puppy biscuit?



   

                   

Walter would be happy

to pick some up for you.



   

                   

That would be wonderful.



   

                   

- Make a note of that, dear.

- Yes, Mother.



   

                   

Walter, you haven't touched

your nice milk toast.



   

                   

- I'm not hungry.

- You know the doctor said...



   

                   

it would be good

for your nervous stomach.



   

                   

That's why the Air Corps

turned him down.



   

                   

It must be cold in here.



   

                   

Queenie's shivering.



   

                   

Yes, Mother. I know.

The furnace.



   

                   

Excuse me.



   

                   

Walter's a very lucky boy.



   

                   

Tubby Wadsworth has proposed

a half a dozen times.



   

                   

He's still doing it!



   

                   

The Spitfire dived through the clouds,

its machine guns belching lead.



   

                   

Oblivious to the ominous ta-pocketa,

ta-pocketa of his failing engines...



   

                   

Wing Commander Walter Mitty, the most

feared man in R.A.F. Desert patrol...



   

                   

clung to the tail

of the Messerschmitt.



   

                   

Himmel's villain.

It's Walter Mitty.



   

                   

I am a lost man.



   

                   

Mitty's jaw was a grim,

straight line...



   

                   

as he gave the Jerry

three more lethal bursts...



   

                   

and watched him go down in flames.



   

                   

As I go rolling home



   

                   

I'm as happy as a king, believe me



   

                   

I say, fellas!

There's Group Captain Mitty.



   

                   

He made it!



   

                   

Mitty, how many this time, old boy?



   

                   

- Hello, sir.

- Good show, Mitty.



   

                   

- Oh, thank you, sir.

- That makes    doesn't it?



   

                   

No,    actually.

  were only probables, you know.



   

                   

Oh. Spot of brandy?



   

                   

Oh, yes. Thank you, sir.



   

                   

I say, old chap.

You're wounded.



   

                   

It's nothing, sir. Merely a scratch.

Set the bone myself.



   

                   

Priceless fellow.



   

                   

- I wish we had more like you.

- Thank you, sir.



   

                   

- Anything troubling you, sir?

- Young Raleigh.



   

                   

Got a case of nerves. I promise

the general we'd get that tank dump.



   

                   

Oh, bad luck, sir.



   

                   

- Is it vital?

- Vital?



   

                   

Our whole desert campaign

depends upon it.



   

                   

Oh, I see.



   

                   

Put young Raleigh to bed, sir.



   

                   

- What do you mean?

- I'll fly his mission.



   

                   

You? You haven't closed your eyes

in three days.



   

                   

I know, sir, but we only live once.



   

                   

Or do we?



   

                   

- Shall we have a go at it?

- Cheerio.



   

                   

- Mitty looks a bit done in, fellows.

- Yes, he does.



   

                   

Got the courage of a lion, though.

Never gives up.



   

                   

He's a delightful fellow.



   

                   

I studied music with him

at the Academy.



   

                   

I shall never forget his impersonation

of old Professor Gruenwald.



   

                   

- Do you remember?

- Rather.



   

                   

Almost drove the old professor barmy.



   

                   

- I wish he'd do it now.

- So do I.



   

                   

Go ahead, Mitty.

I'd rather enjoy a laugh myself.



   

                   

All right, sir.



   

                   

Say, let me have your coat, old boy.



   

                   

There you are!

He's doing it now.



   

                   

All right! Everybody scatter away

to the chairs here!



   

                   

Come on, everybody!



   

                   

Everybody sit down.



   

                   

Children, what makes music music?



   

                   

Music! "Und" why?



   

                   

When to the symphony you go

and they're playing fast but slow



   

                   

Do you hear the pizzicato's sweet hello

when you go



   

                   

Or the flugelhorns up high

Or the fiddles when they cry



   

                   

No, und why



   

                   

Because you don't go



   

                   

You see, children.

A symphony is not only music.



   

                   

It tells a story which has

a beginning, middle und an end.



   

                   

Except of course,

the "Unfinished Symphony"...



   

                   

which has a beginning...



   

                   

We will now take up the instruments.



   

                   

There is the trombone



   

                   

Und the tuba



   

                   

Und the oboe



   

                   

Und the saxophone, sousaphone

zither and xylophone



   

                   

Clarinet, bugle horn

fiddle and flugelhorn



   

                   

Tenor kazoo and the timpani too



   

                   

They are all very busy,

except the cymbal.



   

                   

He stands in the corner

and looks around in disgust.



   

                   

This brings us to Symphony Number   .



   

                   

Which was written by

the great Czechoslovakian composer...



   

                   

Andre Griminick...



   

                   

the Second.



   

                   

This work was composed under

a slight disadvantage.



   

                   

He had no talent.



   

                   

The conductor lifts his baton,

und we start.



   

                   

This is just mood music.



   

                   

Now comes the first movement:

Presto vivace argumento molto...



   

                   

cantabile molto chocolate molto.



   

                   

Und we have the first theme which is

naturally played on the first fiddle.



   

                   

This represents a young girl which is

living with her wicked guardian...



   

                   

who is a French horn.



   

                   

Now this young girl...



   

                   

who is a beautiful girl...



   

                   

und her wicked guardian...



   

                   

live all alone on a farm.



   

                   

And all she has for company

are a hen...



   

                   

und a dog...



   

                   

und a nanny goat.



   

                   

At this point in the symphony,

along comes a handsome young trumpet.



   

                   

Und when he clasps his eyes

on this young girl...



   

                   

his heart goes...



   

                   

This is Czechoslovakian for thumping.



   

                   

Und he gets so excited

that he has a solo passage.



   

                   

Which brings us to the second movement

where the fiddle is happy.



   

                   

Und the trumpet is happy.



   

                   

When suddenly, out stalks

the French horn.



   

                   

The little fiddle is so "putrefied,"

her bridge falls out.



   

                   

Und the trumpet says...



   

                   

But the French horn

is very objectionable to this.



   

                   

Und the trumpet blows his top.



   

                   

Shut up!

Now I know who you are!



   

                   

You are not a French horn at all!

That:



   

                   

Had me fooled for a while.

But a:



   

                   

Gave you away.



   

                   

You are a German glockenspiel

in disguise, beyond a doubt...



   

                   

wanted by the police for drowning

   little fiddles out.



   

                   

The glockenspiel tries to escape

to his flat...



   

                   

but the animals are too sharp for him.



   

                   

In the leg!



   

                   

In the neck!



   

                   

In the face!



   

                   

In the other place!



   

                   

The glockenspiel is trapped,

his escape they are foiling.



   

                   

So he jumps into a kettle drum

which is boiling!



   

                   

Hooray, the bad old glockenspiel is dead



   

                   

Happy little fiddle

and trumpet are wed



   

                   

- Very good show.

- Oh, thank you, sir.



   

                   

- See you at headquarters.

- Yes, sir.



   

                   

Oh, you are so brave.



   

                   

So strong! So handsome!



   

                   

You like Cosette, no?



   

                   

Rather.



   

                   

Cheerio.



   

                   

Will you please come up here?

Your milk toast is getting soggy!



   

                   

Right-o, Mother!



   

                   

If you'd gotten up on time,

you'd have made the  :  .



   

                   

There was no reason to oversleep!



   

                   

I had to stay up and read those proofs

for Mr. Pierce.



   

                   

Take a cab from the station,

never mind the expense.



   

                   

I'll take it out of your allowance.

Good-bye, dear.



   

                   

Hurry, now! Hurry, dear!



   

                   

Bye! The rake!



   

                   

And don't forget the birdseed

and unbleached muslin!



   

                   

- Good-bye, Mother

- Good-bye, darling.



   

                   

- May I?

- Pardon me.



   

                   

Manhattan transfer.



   

                   

Good-bye, darling.



   

                   

Have a nice day at the office.



   

                   

I'll see you at Mother's tonight.



   

                   

Taxi!



   

                   

Hello.



   

                   

I thought you got off

at Manhattan transfer?



   

                   

I just pretended to.

I was trying to avoid a masher.



   

                   

Oh, I'm terribly sorry

if I gave the wrong impression...



   

                   

Oh, it wasn't you. But I appreciate

your coming to my assistance.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

You're welcome.

Well, good-bye.



   

                   

Oh, darling! You shouldn't have done it!



   

                   

Oh, it's the loveliest bracelet

in the world!



   

                   

Come! We'll go

to the dressmakers together.



   

                   

What's the matter?



   

                   

You've a good face.



   

                   

Well, you've a good one too.



   

                   

Don't be alarmed.

I'm not going to kiss you again.



   

                   

I wasn't thinking about that.



   

                   

I think I can trust you, Mr...



   

                   

Mitty. Walter Mitty.



   

                   

- My name is Rosalind van Hoorn.

- How do you do?



   

                   

Gee, that's a pretty name.



   

                   

I need your assistance, Mr. Mitty.

Will you help me?



   

                   

- Me? How?

- I'm on my way to meet the Hollandia.



   

                   

I'm being followed,

and I'm frightened.



   

                   

Please come with me.



   

                   

- You're frightened?

- Yes.



   

                   

- And you want me to help you?

- Yes.



   

                   

Gosh.



   

                   

If you were along

I wouldn't have to worry.



   

                   

Well, I guess I could

handle myself in a pinch.



   

                   

I do a little boxing at the Y.



   

                   

- Well, I'd like to see any masher try...

- Oh, you're very kind!



   

                   

Never mind the Pierce building.

Go to Pier   .



   

                   

Yes, never mind...

Oh! Wait a minute!



   

                   

I'm sorry! I'm late for the office.

I have to be...



   

                   

Driver, will you stop the ca...

There it is now.



   

                   

Please! Stop the cab!



   

                   

Bye.



   

                   

Here's my share of the cab ride.



   

                   

That isn't necessary.



   

                   

- Bye.

- Good-bye, Mr. Mitty.



   

                   

- Oh!

- What's the matter?



   

                   

My briefcase! I left it

in that cab!



   

                   

It had all the proofs to "Air Aces"

in it! Mr. Pierce will kill me!



   

                   

Here! Hold this, will you?

Taxi!



   

                   

Pier    North River.



   

                   

Karl Maasdam, Rotterdam.



   

                   

Okay, Mr. Maasdam.



   

                   

Excuse me, miss.



   

                   

Did you see

a girl in a green dress?



   

                   

She came in a cab.

It had my briefcase in it.



   

                   

I didn't see the driver's face, but the

back of his head was kind of oblong.



   

                   

- Uncle will be so glad to see you.

- Not more than I'll be glad to see him.



   

                   

It's incredible.

I can't believe that he's still living.



   

                   

You're quite sure

you came here unobserved?



   

                   

Karl, you mustn't trouble yourself

anymore.



   

                   

You're in safe hands now.



   

                   

Miss van Hoorn.



   

                   

Wait a minute!



   

                   

My briefcase...

I left it in your taxicab.



   

                   

I followed you all the way down here.



   

                   

I'm sorry I put you to all that trouble.



   

                   

- Mr. Maasdam, this is Mr. Mitty.

- How do you do?



   

                   

- Is this what you are looking for?

- Yes. Thank you very much.



   

                   

We're in a dreadful hurry. Would you

help the driver with the luggage?



   

                   

- I'm terribly late...

- We can drop you off.



   

                   

Okay. Sure.



   

                   

- What was that?

- What?



   

                   

- That click?

- I didn't hear nothing.



   

                   

Sorry to keep rushing you like this

but our whole next issue is in here.



   

                   

I'm in the publishing business.



   

                   

We put out    magazines.



   

                   

- He must be pretty tired.

- Yes, he's had quite a trip.



   

                   

I guess he fell asleep.



   

                   

- He's been stabbed!

- Stabbed?



   

                   

What are we gonna do?

It's   :  .



   

                   

I've never been this late before!

What are we gonna do?



   

                   

Driver, take us to the nearest

police station!



   

                   

Officer! Something terrible

has happened!



   

                   

- This young lady and l...

- What young lady?



   

                   

Officer, I wanna report a murder!



   

                   

- Murder?

- Yes, sir. We have the body outside.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

The body is in this taxicab.



   

                   

What taxicab?



   

                   

Well, it was right here.



   

                   

I drove up with a girl in green,

and we left the body in the taxicab.



   

                   

- A yellow taxicab?

- No. A pink one.



   

                   

- And the girl was in blue.

- No. Green.



   

                   

Just as I thought!

This is a case for Scotland Yard!



   

                   

No, no! Really, Officer.



   

                   

Her name was Rosalind van Hoorn.



   

                   

- And she said I had a nice face...

- Well, you have a nice face.



   

                   

Now you go home and sleep it off.



   

                   

Good morning, Mr. Mitty.



   

                   

Good morning.



   

                   

When do you take over

the First National Bank?



   

                   

- What do you mean?

- You seem to be keeping bankers' hours.



   

                   

Well, I have a very good excuse.



   

                   

I went down to meet the Hollandia

to get my briefcase.



   

                   

I was with a beautiful girl,

and coming back, a man was murdered.



   

                   

Murdered right next to me

in a taxicab.



   

                   

Then they all disappeared.



   

                   

- Oh, they all disappeared?

- Yes, sir.



   

                   

Why don't you tell the truth?

You fell asleep on the train!



   

                   

No, sir!

Yes, sir?



   

                   

I wanna tell you something

for your own good.



   

                   

- You've been here for ten years.

- Eleven.



   

                   

- Eleven is it?

- Yes.



   

                   

If you don't stop this woolgathering

I'll have to take drastic action!



   

                   

Oh, honest, Mr. Pierce.

This wasn't a daydream.



   

                   

- I'm sure it wasn't.

- I've no time for your excuses.



   

                   

- Where are those proofs?

- Right here in my briefcase.



   

                   

I have them all read and corrected, sir.



   

                   

- There they are.

- What's this?



   

                   

My memorandum book.



   

                   

Okay, we'll send these to press.



   

                   

Here. You get busy

on "Sensational Murders."



   

                   

"Sensational Murders"?



   

                   

I don't want to be bothered. I have an

important board meeting this afternoon.



   

                   

- Yes, sir.

- Oh!



   

                   

Tell Joe to doctor up

that knifing story.



   

                   

Lord Cecil was only stabbed once.



   

                   

We've always given our readers

their money's worth.



   

                   

Have him stabbed front and back

and in the side!



   

                   

And save the heart for last!



   

                   

Why should we stint

on things like that?



   

                   

What's the matter with you?



   

                   

Nothing, sir.



   

                   

Oh, Mr. Mitty.



   

                   

It's you.



   

                   

- I want to apologize for this morning.

- Where'd you disappear to?



   

                   

I went to make a phone call

and was advised to leave.



   

                   

Uncle felt there was too much at stake

for me to be mixed up in what happened.



   

                   

Uncle who?



   

                   

Uncle Peter. He told me

to come here and get you.



   

                   

- Get me?

- He wants to meet you.



   

                   

I don't wanna get mixed up

in this thing either.



   

                   

Besides, I've got some shopping to do

for my mother.



   

                   

- Please come.

- I only have an hour for lunch.



   

                   

And I'm supposed to be

back at the office at  :  .



   

                   

It'll only take a few minutes.

I promise.



   

                   

Please?



   

                   

Say, what happened to that taxicab?



   

                   

What happened to the body?



   

                   

- They took it away.

- "They"? Who's they?



   

                   

Uncle will explain everything.



   

                   

- Hello, Tyler.

- How do you do?



   

                   

- Tell my uncle Mr. Mitty is here.

- Yes, Miss van Hoorn.



   

                   

We'll wait in the library.



   

                   

He'll only be a moment.



   

                   

Gee, that's pretty. The picture...

Do you mind if I look at it?



   

                   

Of course not.



   

                   

Do you like it?



   

                   

- Oh, I love it.

- It's always frightened me.



   

                   

Oh, I thought...



   

                   

That's my favorite song..."Beautiful

Dreamer." I like the way you play it.



   

                   

Mr. Van Hoorn is waiting

in the solarium.



   

                   

Thank you, Tyler.



   

                   

- Hello, Uncle.

- Hello, my dear.



   

                   

Uncle Peter, this is Mr. Mitty.



   

                   

- How are you, Mr. Mitty?

- Fine, thank you.



   

                   

You are the young man who was

so kind to my niece this morning.



   

                   

Oh, I really didn't do anything.



   

                   

- You'll have a cup of tea with us.

- Tea?



   

                   

- Yes, please do.

- All right.



   

                   

Pardon me.



   

                   

- Gee, these are beautiful.

- You like flowers?



   

                   

Well, Mother likes them.

We're raising snapdragons now.



   

                   

Only, I brought back petunias instead.

So I have to exchange them.



   

                   

You know these bulbs came from Holland?



   

                   

Oh, did they?



   

                   

We get ours from Gerber's Feed Store.



   

                   

Personally, I'd rather raise radishes.



   

                   

They grow so fast,

and you can eat them.



   

                   

- You like yours with cream?

- No. Just salt.



   

                   

No. No cream. Thank you.



   

                   

I thought she meant the radishes.



   

                   

- Please sit down.

- Yes.



   

                   

- Here you are, Uncle.

- Thank you, my dear.



   

                   

The cover fell down.



   

                   

There we are.



   

                   

I asked Rosalind to bring you here...



   

                   

because I wanted to tell you

that your life is in danger.



   

                   

Danger?



   

                   

You were present when poor Maasdam

was murdered this morning.



   

                   

But that was a coincidence!

I was at the pier...



   

                   

Just the same, Mr. Mitty.

You were there.



   

                   

- And they might try to kill you too.

- Why?



   

                   

Mr. Mitty, I can see

that you are a man of great courage.



   

                   

Would you like more tea?



   

                   

Yes, thank you.



   

                   

Since you have already

become involved...



   

                   

it may be necessary for you to face

even greater danger.



   

                   

It may, huh?

Well...



   

                   

- I think he should know all the facts.

- I think I should too.



   

                   

Uncle Peter was curator of the

Royal Netherlands Museum in Rotterdam.



   

                   

- He was?

- He left before the German invasion.



   

                   

That seems like

the most reasonable time.



   

                   

But before I escaped...



   

                   

I managed to see that all

of our great art treasures...



   

                   

were concealed in hundreds

of obscure places.



   

                   

Then there's nothing to worry about.



   

                   

Yes, there is.



   

                   

The hiding place of each article

was recorded in a little black book.



   

                   

The Boot will do anything to get it.



   

                   

The Boot?



   

                   

- Who's the Boot?

- His real name is Wilhelm Krug.



   

                   

That's why Maasdam was murdered

this morning.



   

                   

- I see.

- Krug thought that Maasdam had the book.



   

                   

- Oh. Well then, who has it?

- Nobody knows.



   

                   

But if the Boot thought you had it...



   

                   

he'd cut your throat in a second.



   

                   

Let's notify the O.P.A.

I mean, the F.B.I.



   

                   

Uncle has already notified them.



   

                   

They're working together

with the Dutch Secret Police.



   

                   

I can understand your alarm.



   

                   

But the police are very efficient.



   

                   

The minute you are killed...



   

                   

they'll double their efforts.



   

                   

Yes. Of course.

That's very reassuring.



   

                   

But I am... I must be running along now.

I have so much shopping to do.



   

                   

As a precaution,

say nothing about this matter to anyone.



   

                   

Even your loved ones.



   

                   

Of course, you can trust me,

Mr. Van Hoorn.



   

                   

- I won't say...

- Good-bye.



   

                   

- Good-bye.

- You're very brave.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Bye.



   

                   

- May I help you, sir?

- Yes, ma'am.



   

                   

I have some things here.



   

                   

I'd like some "Dutch crown jewels.

The diamond collection..."



   

                   

Jewelry department on the fifth floor.



   

                   

"Diamond collection... House of Orange?"



   

                   

"Vandermeer originals?"



   

                   

Mister, this is the pet department.



   

                   

Pet...



   

                   

Oh, the black book!



   

                   

- How do you do?

- Was there something else you wished?



   

                   

Yes. I'll have some of these

dog biscuits.



   

                   

I always eat them.

They contain vitamin B- .



   

                   

- You forgot your change, sir.

- Oh, thank you very much.



   

                   

These are lovely leashes, aren't they?



   

                   

Oh, yes. Lovely.

Lovely leashes.



   

                   

- How much are these muzzles?

- Three dollars.



   

                   

Three dollars?

One, two... Thank you.



   

                   

- Shall I have it wrapped, sir?

- No.



   

                   

I'll wear it home.



   

                   

In more controlled figures...



   

                   

Oh... How do you do?



   

                   

Won't you sit down?



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Notice, ladies, the exquisite line

and the smooth contour.



   

                   

The featherweight quality's achieved

by using satin and bengaline...



   

                   

with a chiffon trimming.



   

                   

Specifically designed for...



   

                   

I think you'd be able to see better

from the front.



   

                   

No, thank you very much. I've got

to make a phone call. Excuse me.



   

                   

Clarissa, would you mind

coming in here a minute?



   

                   

Yes, Miss Blair.



   

                   

These nightgowns go

in the early delivery today.



   

                   

And this corset goes

to Mrs. Follinsbee.



   

                   

Be sure that it makes

the afternoon delivery tomorrow.



   

                   

- I will.

- Thank you.



   

                   

Just a minute!

What are you doing in here?



   

                   

Excuse me.



   

                   

- Is this the hardware department?

- You know this isn't!



   

                   

Get out of here, you Peeping Tom!



   

                   

Excuse me, ma'am.



   

                   

This idea for pocket-size editions

came to me about two years ago.



   

                   

And I've given it considerable thought.



   

                   

There are four values

to pocket-size editions.



   

                   

One: They fit into the pocket.



   

                   

Two: I have behind me

a well-geared organization...



   

                   

of sober, industrious employees who...



   

                   

Get that thing out of here!



   

                   

Elmer, shoo!



   

                   

What in thunderation

do you think you're doing?



   

                   

I was trying to get away from somebody.



   

                   

There's a man following me.

He had terrible eyes and a long knife.



   

                   

I'll explain it all to you later.



   

                   

Elmer. Go! Come on! Out!



   

                   

Go away, Elmer.

That's it.



   

                   

I'm sorry.

I know how busy you are.



   

                   

So I don't like to disturb you...



   

                   

Pardon... Excuse me.



   

                   

Is Mr. Van Hoorn or his niece at home?



   

                   

Do you know what time

they'll be back? It's very important.



   

                   

I see. Well, would you leave a message

that Mr. Mitty called.



   

                   

I know of a way to kill a man

and leave no trace.



   

                   

Excuse me. I'll be with you

in just a moment.



   

                   

Who are you?



   

                   

Dr. Hugo Hollingshead.

I have a manuscript...



   

                   

that contains the most ingenious method

for the perpetration of homicide.



   

                   

I'm afraid you have

the wrong office, Dr. Homicide.



   

                   

- Mr. Pierce buys all the stories.

- Mr. Pierce told me to see you.



   

                   

Oh? Well, would you have a chair?



   

                   

Did you know that an icicle inserted

into the brain...



   

                   

will melt slowly and leave no trace?



   

                   

It's been done. Sorry.

Would you...



   

                   

Perhaps you'd be interested

in a different method?



   

                   

The sensory nerve at the base of

the skull is vulnerable to an assassin.



   

                   

One merely presses

with the thumbs, thus-



   

                   

The resultant brain hemorrhage

produces instantaneous death.



   

                   

- Without a clue.

- That's very good, Doctor.



   

                   

But we used the sensory nerve

in "The Gland Specialist's Revenge."



   

                   

Excuse me, won't you?



   

                   

What you don't know...



   

                   

is that the base of the brain

is a very sensitive place.



   

                   

As you can see,

the only weapon is the human hand.



   

                   

Hey, wait a minute!

Put that book do...



   

                   

Help!



   

                   

- Give me that vest!

- Help!



   

                   

Give me my vest!



   

                   

Help!



   

                   

In "Hospital Love Stories,"

as in all other of our publications...



   

                   

action will be the key note.



   

                   

Action! Thrills! The unexpected.



   

                   

Of course, the medical aspects

would be respected.



   

                   

And a competent...



   

                   

A competent staff of research men...



   

                   

Yes, Mr. McClure?

Any question?



   

                   

No questions.



   

                   

A competent staff of research men...



   

                   

What in confounded tarnation

are you and that pigeon trying to do?



   

                   

Listen to me!



   

                   

I was hanging by my hands!

A tall doctor pushed me out the window!



   

                   

- What is this? What tall doctor?

- The one you sent to tell me the story!



   

                   

He didn't come to tell my any story!

He came to push me out the window!



   

                   

I didn't send anyone to throw you

out of the window!



   

                   

I've got more important things to do!



   

                   

- Well, here's his vest.

- Who's vest?



   

                   

- The man you sent...

- Mitty!



   

                   

I don't know whether

you're drunk or crazy!



   

                   

Throw that pigeon out,

and you get out of here!



   

                   

- I'll talk to you later.

- I'm sorry, Mr. Pierce.



   

                   

Excuse me!



   

                   

So sorry.



   

                   

Get out of here, Mitty! Get out!



   

                   

I'm sorry, Mr. Pierce!



   

                   

I'm terribly sorry!



   

                   

Get out!



   

                   

You know very well, if you're going

to get married...



   

                   

you'll just have to ask for a raise.



   

                   

Put those flowers in water for me,

will you, dear?



   

                   

What was that?



   

                   

- What was what?

- The clock didn't strike.



   

                   

I definitely heard it not strike.



   

                   

Will you please take it to Kudners

on Sixth Avenue.



   

                   

They fixed Gertrude's metronome.

They can fix anything.



   

                   

But don't say you'll do it

and then not do it.



   

                   

I'll do it tomorrow afternoon.



   

                   

Walter! Not in the lemonade!

For heaven's sake!



   

                   

What's the matter with you?

You've been in a daze all evening.



   

                   

Mother...



   

                   

if a fellow was a witness to a murder,

and he was told not to say anything...



   

                   

not even to his loved ones...



   

                   

what should he do about it?



   

                   

Can't you forget those stories of yours

for a moment?



   

                   

They've brought Tubby Wadsworth.

Put your coat on, darling.



   

                   

Put it on, and get rid of that paper.



   

                   

Tubby Wadsworth.



   

                   

- Anybody home?

- Irmagarde!



   

                   

- My! What a stunning hat!

- Thank you.



   

                   

- And Gertrude dear.

- Hello, Mother Mitty.



   

                   

- Take your things off.

- All right.



   

                   

And Tubby Wadsworth.



   

                   

Gertrude brought me

and left Queenie home.



   

                   

How do I look as a lap dog?

Woof! Woof!



   

                   

- Hiya, Walt, old boy.

- Hello, Tubby.



   

                   

Brought you a present.



   

                   

- First edition.

- Well! Gee, thanks.



   

                   

What is it?

Tubby's so thoughtful.



   

                   

Well, isn't this wonderful.



   

                   

Walter, you look so silly!



   

                   

Little gadget I picked up

at a magic store.



   

                   

Sneezing powder!

It's a howl, isn't it?



   

                   

Sure is.



   

                   

- Guess what, Eunice.

- What?



   

                   

We have the Reverend Thomas

for Saturday!



   

                   

- No!

- Thanks to Tubby.



   

                   

Well, you know what they say:

"Unlucky in love, lucky in cards."



   

                   

- What are we waiting for?

- You four play the first rubber.



   

                   

Let's play for a   th of a cent

and settle for half.



   

                   

Oh, no, dear. No gambling.

Let's keep it social.



   

                   

Cut for deal.



   

                   

- King.

- Ten.



   

                   

- Three.

- Two.



   

                   

Pass those.



   

                   

Care for some lady fingers, Tubby?



   

                   

Only yours, Juliet.



   

                   

Let's play some bridge.



   

                   

- One no trump.

- Pass.



   

                   

Five diamonds.



   

                   

- Pass.

- Five diamonds?



   

                   

Six no trump.



   

                   

- Pass.

- By.



   

                   

Pass.



   

                   

Your lead, Walt.



   

                   

How's that, partner?



   

                   

Grand slam.



   

                   

Slough the two hearts on the diamonds

and the spades are good.



   

                   

You could have set me

if you'd have led a heart.



   

                   

Walter's trouble is

he doesn't concentrate.



   

                   

Card sense is like business sense. Don't

have one, you don't have the other!



   

                   

That's what I'm always telling you,

Walter.



   

                   

Your deal.



   

                   

Cool as a cucumber...



   

                   

Gaylord Mitty,

the Mississippi gambler...



   

                   

puffed nonchalantly

on a handmade Havana.



   

                   

Raise.



   

                   

Once again, sir.



   

                   

The deed to my plantation.



   

                   

Call. Three kings.



   

                   

I believe I have three bullets, sir.



   

                   

Lady Luck hasn't been smiling upon you,

Colonel Wadsworth.



   

                   

One more hand, Mitty.



   

                   

With what, Colonel?

Ginger snaps?



   

                   

I know you're in love

with my fiancee.



   

                   

I'll play you one hand for her.



   

                   

You'd pluck a star from the heavens...



   

                   

and fling it on the soiled cloth

of a gaming table?



   

                   

If I lose, I'Il...

I'll go north.



   

                   

Is it a wager?



   

                   

It's a wager, sir.



   

                   

I'm terribly sorry, ladies.



   

                   

Your pleasure, sir.



   

                   

I'll play these.



   

                   

Reckon this is one hand

you won't win.



   

                   

This time I got the three aces.



   

                   

That's mighty strange, Colonel.



   

                   

I have four aces.



   

                   

Why, you cheating dog!



   

                   

Careful, Wadsworth.



   

                   

These things have been known to go off.



   

                   

The plink of banjos

could be heard over the paddle wheels...



   

                   

as they went ta-pocketa, ta-pocketa...



   

                   

in the moonlit water.



   

                   

Gaylord Mitty squared

his enormous shoulders...



   

                   

and called her name softly.



   

                   

- Miss Gertrude?

- It was a touching moment.



   

                   

Oh. It's you.



   

                   

- I have the honor to inform you...

- I have already been informed.



   

                   

I suppose you've come

to collect your bet...



   

                   

you unspeakable riverboat gambler.



   

                   

I have no intention of holding a lady

to any such bargain.



   

                   

Here's the deed to the plantation

stolen from your father.



   

                   

Try to think kindly of me when...



   

                   

when I'm away.



   

                   

Away?



   

                   

Fort Sumter has been fired upon.



   

                   

My regiment leaves at dawn.



   

                   

Oh, Gaylord! How I've misjudged you!



   

                   

I know it's too much

to hope for, ma'am, but if you'll wait...



   

                   

Forever, Gaylord.



   

                   

Swallow them up, old Mississippi.



   

                   

This is my last deal.



   

                   

Come on, Walt! Finish the deal!



   

                   

Walter, what's the matter with you?



   

                   

It's really you.



   

                   

- You phoned yesterday.

- Yes, I called...



   

                   

I wanted to tell you I found

the book you were looking for.



   

                   

- It was on me!

- Thank heavens.



   

                   

Where is it?



   

                   

- I stuck it in a lady's corset.

- What?



   

                   

A lady's corset that was being delivered

from Stacey's department store.



   

                   

The lady's name was Follinsbee.



   

                   

You had the book,

and you let it out of your hands?



   

                   

I had to! A man was chasing me

with a long knife...



   

                   

and another man

tried to push me out of a window!



   

                   

I've been through a lot!



   

                   

Well, we must find it!

Come show me where you put it.



   

                   

I can't. I've got a dinner party

at  :  .



   

                   

I've got to meet my mother

and lots of other people.



   

                   

And by the time I get this clock

dropped off at Sixth Avenue, l...



   

                   

It won't strike.

Mother's used to hearing it strike.



   

                   

It keeps her awake,

and it's gotta be...



   

                   

Oh, please, Miss van Hoorn.

Please don't cry.



   

                   

I'm sorry.



   

                   

It's just I'm so alone in all of this.



   

                   

Uncle's helpless,

and I don't know where to turn.



   

                   

Well, it shouldn't

be too hard to find.



   

                   

I'll do anything I can to help.



   

                   

- Would you?

- Sure.



   

                   

How many Follinsbees can there be?



   

                   

Let's look in the phone book.



   

                   

- Well, this looks like it.

- Run up and check.



   

                   

- You won't need that!

- It's Grandmother's clock.



   

                   

- I mustn't let anything happen to it.

- I'll keep an eye on it.



   

                   

Hurry. I'll stay down here

in case anything happens.



   

                   

All right.



   

                   

- What do you think'll happen?

- Please hurry!



   

                   

- It's Follinsbee, all right!

- Well, knock on the door.



   

                   

Knock on the door!



   

                   

I'm terribly sorry!



   

                   

- Is your name Follinsbee?

- That's right. What do you want?



   

                   

Would you mind very much

if I looked in your wife's corset?



   

                   

What?



   

                   

I mean, yesterday

I slipped something into her corset.



   

                   

How do you do?



   

                   

- Do you know this guy?

- Never saw him before.



   

                   

Oh, you don't...



   

                   

So help me, Harry! I never saw the guy

before in my life!



   

                   

Get out of here

or I'll knock your teeth in.



   

                   

Please, Harry! I swear!

He doesn't mean a thing!



   

                   

- This isn't a corset.

- What is it?



   

                   

It's a nightgown.



   

                   

I'd better take it back to that fellow.

I've caused him enough trouble.



   

                   

I'm sorry to trouble you, but I thought

I'd better return your wife's nightgown.



   

                   

Why, you!



   

                   

Wrong Follinsbee!



   

                   

"Mrs. Letitia Follinsbee,

    Fifth Avenue."



   

                   

She must work here.



   

                   

Forgot your keys.



   

                   

Gee, those are pretty.

Wooden shoes, huh?



   

                   

I've had them for years.



   

                   

They're supposed to ward off evil.



   

                   

I should have been

carrying them yesterday.



   

                   

Carry them now.



   

                   

No. These are gold.

Why should you give them to me?



   

                   

Because you've been so kind, Walter.



   

                   

"Walter."



   

                   

I have a bag

that matches these shoes exactly.



   

                   

- I wonder how much they are.

- Girls! I didn't know you were out here.



   

                   

Mrs. Follinsbee is waiting for you.



   

                   

You'll have to rush to change.



   

                   

You're terribly late.



   

                   

- What did the corset look like?

- It was black and sort of filmy.



   

                   

And lacy around the neck

with little yellow ribbons...



   

                   

or green or some color.



   

                   

You wait here.



   

                   

May I seat you, sir?



   

                   

Right over here.



   

                   

Now, girls.

Take these corsets.



   

                   

And you   s wear these.



   

                   

Rush, girls! And start dressing.



   

                   

I'm sorry, but black helps

brings out the best in me.



   

                   

Welcome.



   

                   

I can't tell you how proud I am...



   

                   

to present Anatole of Paris.



   

                   

This is the first appearance

of my latest creation:



   

                   

Venetian mirror hat.



   

                   

A grey turban studded with diamonds.



   

                   

And on the top, Prince of Wales

ostrich tips.



   

                   

Cocktails for two.



   

                   

I call this one the rain hat...



   

                   

because it looks like a fountain.



   

                   

And when you buy it...



   

                   

you get soaked.



   

                   

It is entirely made

of black aigrettes...



   

                   

with a diamond band

in case you go slumming.



   

                   

For the woman of mystery.



   

                   

A touch of the Arabian

with Grecian simplicity.



   

                   

A "sheik" that is truly "chic."



   

                   

Made of jersey,

carrying its own capelet...



   

                   

and giving madam the muffled look.



   

                   

And now my pièce de résistance.



   

                   

Watch.



   

                   

First, the pin.



   

                   

Then, the brim.



   

                   

Then...



   

                   

back with the pin.



   

                   

The striptease hat.



   

                   

Now, before I continue

with the rest of my hats...



   

                   

I would like you to know

how I started in this business.



   

                   

It all began

when I was born



   

                   

A month too soon



   

                   

My Ma was frightened

by a runaway saloon



   

                   

Pa was forced to be a hobo



   

                   

Because he played the oboe



   

                   

And the oboe, it is clearly understood



   

                   

Is an ill wind

that no one blows good



   

                   

I'll never forget the morning

that Grandpa ate the awning



   

                   

To impress a pretty lady

who went for men that were shady



   

                   

Then my uncle, Aunt Mary

went on a safari



   

                   

To Calcutta



   

                   

Bombay



   

                   

India



   

                   

Tracking through the trackless jungle



   

                   

At low tide and high noon



   

                   

Hello, Tide.



   

                   

Hi, Noon.



   

                   

And I'm the result

of the twisted eugenics



   

                   

Of this family of inbred schizophrenics



   

                   

The end of a long, long line of bats



   

                   

I design...



   

                   

women's...



   

                   

hats.



   

                   

You are no longer with us.



   

                   

I'm Anatole of Paris

I shriek with chic



   

                   

My hat of the week

caused six divorces



   

                   

Three runaway horses



   

                   

I'm Anatole of Paris

The hats I sell



   

                   

Make husbands yell



   

                   

Is that a hat

or a two-room flat



   

                   

Parlor, bedroom, bath.



   

                   

Let me get my paw

on a little piece of straw



   

                   

And, voilà



   

                   

A chapeau



   

                   

At    bucks a throw



   

                   

It's how I pull and chew on it



   

                   

The little things I do on it



   

                   

Like placing yards of lacing

or a bicycle built for two on it



   

                   

The little ones, the big ones

The sat-on-by-a-pig ones



   

                   

The foolish ones that perch



   

                   

And the ghoulish ones that lurch



   

                   

The one called "Moonlit Menace"

designed for a night in Venice



   

                   

A little bow

And a little



    

                   

I'm Anatole of Paris

I must design



    

                   

I'm just like wine



    

                   

I go to your head



    

                   

Give me thread and a needle

I itch, I twitch to stitch



    

                   

I'm a glutton for cuttin'

For puttin' with a button



    

                   

To snip and pluck, nip and tuck

fix and trim, tie on that brim



    

                   

Tote that barge



    

                   

Lift that veil



    

                   

And why do I sew

each new chapeau



    

                   

With a style they must look

positively grim in



    

                   

Strictly between us



    

                   

I hate women



    

                   

And so, ladies, my first small creation

led to greater things.



    

                   

Here it is. Take it to Uncle's

as quickly as you can.



    

                   

But I can't!

My mother...



    

                   

"Dutch crown jewels.



    

                   

Diamond collection. House of..."



    

                   

I don't think we ought

to stay here overnight.



    

                   

We should have gone home

in Tubby's car!



    

                   

And leave Eunice alone with that...



    

                   

It's raining so hard...



    

                   

and our road will be washed out anyway.



    

                   

Who is it?



    

                   

It's me. Who did you expect?



    

                   

Here. Drink this while it's warm.



    

                   

And get right into bed, dear.



    

                   

Come on, darling.



    

                   

- That's hot, Mother.

- Drink it all, dear.



    

                   

That's all I want.



    

                   

- Good night, dear.

- Good night.



    

                   

- And try not to dream of climbing.

- Yes, Mother.



    

                   

Miss van Hoorn!



    

                   

- They might have heard you!

- It was the only way!



    

                   

Where's the book?

Why didn't you bring it to Uncle's?



    

                   

Come into the kitchen.



    

                   

You're catching cold. Here.

You'd better sit by the stove.



    

                   

I'll light the oven.



    

                   

You'd better take those wet shoes off.



    

                   

I'll make some tea for you.



    

                   

Wait a minute.

I'll be right down.



    

                   

What in the world are you doing?

Where was that music coming from?



    

                   

The music? Oh!

I was just playing the piano, Mother.



    

                   

Playing the piano?



    

                   

You can't play the piano!



    

                   

I know.



    

                   

But it sort of helps me relax when it's

lightning and thundering and things.



    

                   

You just march right into bed

and do your relaxing there!



    

                   

Good night, Mother.

Good night, Gertrude.



    

                   

Good night...

Mrs. Griswold.



    

                   

Well, a lot of people

play the piano when they can't sleep.



    

                   

It's a well-known fact.

Good night.



    

                   

- Walter, what are you doing out here?

- Whistling.



    

                   

The rain is making too much noise

to whistle in there.



    

                   

I was trying to remember

the way our old high school song went.



    

                   

Fight on for Perth Amboy High



    

                   

Walter, will you please go to bed!



    

                   

Good night, Mother.

Good night, Gertrude.



    

                   

Good night...

Mrs. Griswold.



    

                   

It's funny. Walter can never go to sleep

when he tries to think of something...



    

                   

and can't remember.



    

                   

His father was the same way.

Up half the night.



    

                   

- Good night.

- Good night.



    

                   

Mother, what if he acts that way

after we're married?



    

                   

We'll handle him. It's just

that he wasn't properly raised.



    

                   

Tubby keeps on proposing.



    

                   

Maybe I'm making a mistake!



    

                   

- Gee, you brought another dress!

- It's my slip.



    

                   

Slip.



    

                   

Well, it looks like

an evening gown on you.



    

                   

Would you like another cup of tea?



    

                   

No, thanks. I must hurry

and get the book to Uncle.



    

                   

- May I have it, please?

- Well, it's upstairs. I'll get it.



    

                   

Only, will you be all right?



    

                   

- You weren't followed or anything?

- No. I'll be all right.



    

                   

Good. I wouldn't want you to meet

those two fellows.



    

                   

You should see that knife!

It was...



    

                   

- I'm going with you.

- No, Walter. That's sweet but...



    

                   

No. I'll go with you. You leave

this way, and I'll meet you out front.



    

                   

- But you've done enough for me.

- No.



    

                   

Anyone would have done

the same thing in my shoes.



    

                   

I'll get my shoes and get the book too.



    

                   

Oh, Tyler. Where's Uncle Peter?



    

                   

He's in the library, miss.



    

                   

Uncle, we have it!

We have the book!



    

                   

- The book!

- And we have Walter to thank.



    

                   

It was nothing.



    

                   

Mr. Mitty, I don't know what to say.



    

                   

I don't know how to repay you.

Holland will be eternally grateful.



    

                   

Well, I really didn't do anything.



    

                   

It's lucky I found out

where Walter lived.



    

                   

Very fortunate.



    

                   

You don't know what this means to me,

my dear.



    

                   

I think I do.



    

                   

Come and join me.



    

                   

This calls for a celebration.



    

                   

And you've been through a great deal.



    

                   

Mother doesn't like me to drink

very much, but maybe just a little one.



    

                   

- Now, where is the book?

- Yes, Walter. Give Uncle the book.



    

                   

- I gave it to you in the car.

- Yes, but I returned it.



    

                   

No, don't you remember?



    

                   

I said, "Here's the book."

And you said, "Thank you, Walter."



    

                   

I said, "You're welcome..."



    

                   

Look through all your pockets.

You must have it somewhere.



    

                   

No, I'm sure I gave it to you.



    

                   

We must have left it in the car.

We'd better go look.



    

                   

Wait! Mr. Mitty.



    

                   

- To Holland.

- Yes. To Holland.



    

                   

- Hurry, Walter.

- We'll be right back.



    

                   

You'd better put this raincoat on.

It's still raining out.



    

                   

Walter, what happened?



    

                   

Wake up!



    

                   

- The Boot!

- Where is the book, Rosalind?



    

                   

Better put this raincoat on.



    

                   

It's still raining outside.



    

                   

He's coming to.



    

                   

Did you get it?



    

                   

Get what?



    

                   

The black book.



    

                   

Mother, what are you doing here?

Where's Rosalind?



    

                   

Your niece.



    

                   

Young man. I have no niece.



    

                   

No niece?



    

                   

How long had he been

crawling around your front lawn?



    

                   

Tyler found him at  :   this morning.



    

                   

- Eating the tulip bulbs.

- Tulip bulbs!



    

                   

I'll pay for all the damages,

Mr. Van Hoorn.



    

                   

Mother!



    

                   

- He says he has no niece!

- If he says he has no niece...



    

                   

- He should know!

- But I know he has! Her name's Rosalind.



    

                   

She has blonde hair

and is the prettiest girl I ever saw!



    

                   

I'm afraid he's suffering

from some hallucination.



    

                   

I'm not suffering from anything!

There is a black book!



    

                   

And a man was murdered

in front of my eyes!



    

                   

Tuesday you invited me to lunch,

and Rosalind was here!



    

                   

She was at that piano...



    

                   

I have never set eyes on you before

in my life.



    

                   

- What do you mean, you...

- Please don't make anymore trouble!



    

                   

- I'm not making...

- Now, Mitty!



    

                   

Pull yourself together!

We have four magazines going to press!



    

                   

I don't care!



    

                   

Young man, you're beginning

to exhaust my patience.



    

                   

You've destroyed property of mine.

I could have you arrested.



    

                   

Now we can settle this amicably.



    

                   

I'll pay for all the tulips and send you

a life subscription to "Terror Stories."



    

                   

I've gotta find Rosalind.

And don't pay him for any tulips!



    

                   

- I didn't eat a single one! Rosalind!

- Don't get exited!



    

                   

- We'll get you to a doctor right away.

- I'll telephone Dr. Renshaw.



    

                   

- He took out Walter's tonsils.

- Pardon me. If I may suggest.



    

                   

The boy needs not a physician,

but a psychiatrist.



    

                   

- Psychiatrist!

- I happen to know a very good one.



    

                   

- Name him, sir. Money's no object.

- No! I'm gonna find Rosalind.



    

                   

- Catch him!

- I don't know what's happened to Walter!



    

                   

He's never run away from home,

not even when he was little!



    

                   

- There, there. Mrs. Mitty.

- He's such a quiet boy.



    

                   

Yes, he...



    

                   

Oh, my poor dear!

What have you done to him?



    

                   

He did it himself, madam.



    

                   

- What's that psychiatrist's name?

- Dr. Hugo Hollingshead.



    

                   

The doctor will see you now.



    

                   

- Come along, Walter.

- Come on.



    

                   

I'm all right!



    

                   

I'm not crazy! I just don't wanna...



    

                   

How do you do?

Won't you come in?



    

                   

- That's him! That's Dr. Hollingshead!

- Of course it is.



    

                   

He's the one who pushed me

out the window!



    

                   

Mother, he's a killer!

He belongs to the gang!



    

                   

- Walter, please!

- There, there, my boy.



    

                   

The doctor's not going to harm you.



    

                   

- I'm Mr. Pierce.

- I see. How do you do?



    

                   

- And this is Mrs. Mitty, I take it?

- Don't let him touch you!



    

                   

Call the police!



    

                   

Doctor, you've got to help us.

Mitty is one of my key men.



    

                   

He was all right up to    hours ago,

but then...



    

                   

Well, you can see.



    

                   

- He pushed me out of a window!

- Walter, please!



    

                   

- Do you think he's starved for vitamins?

- Calm yourself, my dear Mrs. Mitty.



    

                   

- We'll give him a thorough examination.

- No!



    

                   

What's the matter, fellow?

Why don't you like me?



    

                   

Because you pushed me

out of a window, that's why!



    

                   

But I've never seen you before.



    

                   

Possibly you're mistaking me

for somebody else.



    

                   

No, I'm not! Nobody could look as much

like you do as you do!



    

                   

You've got to get well!

You're going to be married Sunday!



    

                   

Don't you understand?

This man is a criminal!



    

                   

There's no reason he can't be

back at his desk tomorrow!



    

                   

I'd rather speak to him alone.

Would you mind?



    

                   

Please don't leave me, Mother.

Mr. Pierce, don't leave me alone with...



    

                   

Now, now, young man.

There's nothing to be afraid of.



    

                   

Your mother will be right outside.



    

                   

- Will you, Mother?

- Of course, darling.



    

                   

It's all right.



    

                   

Would you take your glasses off?



    

                   

Why, of course.



    

                   

Are you quite sure you didn't

come to my office...



    

                   

and try to push me out of the window?



    

                   

What nonsense.



    

                   

I'm sorry.



    

                   

That's better.

Sit down, boy.



    

                   

Now just lie down there

and be comfortable.



    

                   

- Go ahead.

- Can't you examine me standing up?



    

                   

It's necessary that you be

completely relaxed.



    

                   

Now just lie right down there.



    

                   

Relax, boy!



    

                   

Now...



    

                   

close your eyes.



    

                   

The left one too.



    

                   

That's right. Now tell me

all that's bothering you.



    

                   

Well, the day before yesterday...



    

                   

I met a girl.



    

                   

She looked like all the girls

I've ever dreamed about.



    

                   

Don't you say he's crazy

because he isn't!



    

                   

Of course not.

He isn't imagining anything.



    

                   

What's so mysterious about a black book?



    

                   

It's just full of telephone numbers.



    

                   

- That proves he's normal.

- Telephone numbers!



    

                   

And that Rosalind he's always screaming

about... just one of the numbers.



    

                   

Mama, I wanna go home!



    

                   

What's bothering you, honey?



    

                   

And what about the black book?



    

                   

That was gone too.



    

                   

It was in your possession

when you came to the house?



    

                   

I thought I'd given it

to Mr. Van Hoorn's niece...



    

                   

but he said he had no niece.



    

                   

Why are you asking me

all these questions?



    

                   

Because as a psychiatrist I must know

your innermost mental processes.



    

                   

Tell me...



    

                   

what sort of business are you in?



    

                   

I'm a proofreader at

the Pierce Publishing Company.



    

                   

I see.



    

                   

My boy, you're suffering

from a romantic delusion...



    

                   

aggravated by overwork

and incessant daydreaming.



    

                   

You mean, l...

I dreamed the whole thing?



    

                   

Don't you see?



    

                   

You've obviously been affected

by all these pulp magazines...



    

                   

that you're constantly proofreading.



    

                   

You've been frustrated all your life

so you live in your daydreams.



    

                   

The heroine is always in danger:

She's tied to a chair...



    

                   

bound and gagged.



    

                   

But she was so real.



    

                   

She had the prettiest mouth.



    

                   

Every time she touched me...



    

                   

I grew hot and cold.



    

                   

- What's the matter?

- I just saw her!



    

                   

She was sitting in there!



    

                   

She was bound and gagged.



    

                   

My boy. I'm afraid you're in love

with a girl who doesn't exist.



    

                   

They were right, I guess.



    

                   

- I daydream too much.

- Exactly!



    

                   

And that can lead

to serious complications.



    

                   

I had a patient here last week

who was suffering...



    

                   

from the same sort

of romantic delusions.



    

                   

- He was?

- Yes. Poor fellow was in a bad state.



    

                   

No matter how a woman was dressed,

he fancied he saw her in a bathing suit.



    

                   

Metaphilia... an extreme case, of course.



    

                   

Of course.



    

                   

- Yes, Doctor?

- Miss Appleby.



    

                   

Will you bring me the charts

on the Wilson case, please?



    

                   

- Certainly, Doctor.

- You have a spot on your uniform!



    

                   

I'm sorry, Doctor.

I'll change immediately.



    

                   

Did she really have

a spot on her uniform?



    

                   

- Well, you saw it, didn't you?

- Oh, sure. I saw it.



    

                   

It was an ink spot.



    

                   

- Mercurochrome.

- Oh, yes.



    

                   

Mercurochrome.

It looked like red ink.



    

                   

It was hardly noticeable though...



    

                   

You didn't see any uniform.



    

                   

No. Oh, you're right.

I saw her in a bathing suit.



    

                   

I've got metaphilia!

What am I gonna do?



    

                   

What you need is a good, long rest.



    

                   

But I'm getting married tomorrow!



    

                   

Capital! Go home and marry your Bertha!



    

                   

- Gertrude.

- Gertrude. And forget all about it.



    

                   

You'll be a new man.



    

                   

I'm beginning to feel better already.



    

                   

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here

in the sight of God...



    

                   

and in the face of this company...



    

                   

to join together this man

and this woman...



    

                   

in holy matrimony.



    

                   

I require and charge you both...



    

                   

that if either of you

know of any impediment...



    

                   

why you may not be lawfully

joined together in matrimony...



    

                   

you do now confess it,

or else forever after hold your peace."



    

                   

Do you, Walter...



    

                   

take this woman

to be your lawful wedded wife...



    

                   

so long as you both shall live?



    

                   

I do.



    

                   

Place the ring upon her finger.



    

                   

The ring.



    

                   

She's alive! It's true!

It wasn't a dream! These are her shoes!



    

                   

I was right!

Van Hoorn's a crook!



    

                   

He's got her in that house!

We've got to get her!



    

                   

You'll have to go after him.

He's going to molest that poor old man!



    

                   

Pardon me!



    

                   

Hey, you!



    

                   

The hooves of his sorrel, Quicksilver,

going ta-pocketa, ta-pocketa...



    

                   

Walter "Slim" Mitty,

the most feared man west of the Pecos...



    

                   

rode into Tombstone Gulch.



    

                   

Mitty the Kid's in town!



    

                   

$"General Store - Post Office"



    

                   

I wouldn't do that if I was you, Toledo.



    

                   

Oh, Slim!



    

                   

- I'd start a-prayin' if I was you.

- Why, you!



    

                   

Please, Slim!

Please don't hit me anymore!



    

                   

- She's still suffering from shock.

- Well, get her out of it!



    

                   

She's hidden that book

somewhere in this house.



    

                   

How can we get information

from a girl who can't open her mouth?



    

                   

Krug.



    

                   

Wait! I have a better idea.



    

                   

Our impetuous young man

has come to rescue his lady in distress.



    

                   

Doctor, do you think that seeing the man

she loves might bring her out of it?



    

                   

- It might.

- Good.



    

                   

Then we will let him rescue her.



    

                   

Don't come any closer!



    

                   

I've got a Luger and I'll drill you!



    

                   

All right, hophead.

Start talking and talk fast.



    

                   

Where is she?



    

                   

You'd better start singing, lard face.

One more move and I'll drive you.



    

                   

I'll drill you so full of lead...



    

                   

Oh, I just knew you were alive!

I knew it!



    

                   

Walter, it's you.



    

                   

If they hurt you, I'll kill them

like I did that lard face outside.



    

                   

Walter, my uncle...



    

                   

Rosalind, he's a murderer.



    

                   

I found out he isn't my uncle.



    

                   

He's the Boot.



    

                   

I didn't know.

I'd never seen my real uncle.



    

                   

It was the Boot that killed Maasam.



    

                   

The Boot.

We'd better get out of here.



    

                   

Come on, dear.



    

                   

Congratulations, Mr. Mitty.

You've aroused the sleeping beauty.



    

                   

- Turn on the light.

- Where is it?



    

                   

- Over there.

- Oh.



    

                   

Wait a minute.



    

                   

- This ought to hold them.

- What are you doing?



    

                   

Well, this worked in "The Shocking Case

Of The Mad Electrician."



    

                   

I just wire this here,

and turn this switch on...



    

                   

then when they put their hands on...



    

                   

- Hurry!

- Wait a minute.



    

                   

What are you doing?



    

                   

It's the Malay tiger trap. It works

on tigers, it should work on people.



    

                   

We used this in "The Elephant Boy

Strikes Back."



    

                   

They cover it with straw.



    

                   

When he comes in, he steps on this,

the barrel goes off...



    

                   

his foot gets caught,

he goes right up and he's trapped.



    

                   

Here I am!



    

                   

No! You're suppose...



    

                   

Come on, Rosalind.



    

                   

Help! Let me down here!



    

                   

Help! Let me down!



    

                   

Well, there's the flower truck.



    

                   

For the last time!

Where is the book?



    

                   

I'll never tell! Never!



    

                   

Hendrick!



    

                   

You better stay where you are!



    

                   

I took care of you once before,

and I'll do it again!



    

                   

Drop it!

What's going on here?



    

                   

- You! What about that flower truck?

- I had to rescue the girl!



    

                   

- These men are crooks!

- They're murderers!



    

                   

- He's the leader! The Boot!

- This is what they're after!



    

                   

It belongs to the Dutch government.



    

                   

Get him! He's getting away!



    

                   

Twist her arm, will you?

I'll show you who's crazy!



    

                   

Mitty, you fool!

Leave that poor old man alone!



    

                   

Walter, all those policemen!

What does it mean?



    

                   

- Who's she?

- This is Rosalind.



    

                   

- Now you understand why I left.

- I understand, you two-timer!



    

                   

Well, ladies, I guess I was right

all along!



    

                   

How could you?



    

                   

Rosalind can explain.

She was with me every minute.



    

                   

All the time you were making advances

to my daughter...



    

                   

you were carrying on with this Jezebel!



    

                   

Jezebel! How dare you!

All of you!



    

                   

- Rosalind, wait!

- Let her go! You're well rid of her!



    

                   

Run after her,

you milk-drinking Casanova!



    

                   

Milk? I'd like to see what he drinks

when he's out with that blonde!



    

                   

- You filthy drunkard!

- You can't make a lily from a ragweed!



    

                   

- Shut up!

- Mitty!



    

                   

You too!



    

                   

Now you're all gonna listen to me.



    

                   

For years I've been listening to you!

You almost put me in a straightjacket!



    

                   

Your small minds are muscle-bound

with suspicion.



    

                   

That's because the only exercise you get

is jumping to conclusions!



    

                   

You ought to be ashamed of yourselves,

every one of you!



    

                   

- Now, hold on! I don't think...

- You never think!



    

                   

- What?

- The only good idea you ever had...



    

                   

was to hire me to do your thinking

for you!



    

                   

"Associate editor."



    

                   

Go right in. Take a look at it, Walt.



    

                   

Oh, Walter. It's just wonderful!



    

                   

Now, folks, this is just another working

day in the Pierce Publishing Company.



    

                   

"Frontier Stories" has to meet

its deadline.



    

                   

Have you ever been through our plant,

Mrs. Mitty?



    

                   

- No, I haven't

- Well, come along. I'll show you around.



    

                   

I'll see you later, dear.



    

                   

And no more daydreaming, Walt, old man.



    

                   

Oh, no. Right you are... Bruce!











  

 
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