Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936) - full transcript

Longfellow Deeds lives in a small town, leading a small town kind of life - including playing the tuba in the town band. When a relative dies and leaves Deeds a fortune, Longfellow picks up his tuba and moves to the big city where he becomes an instant target for everyone from the greedy opera committee to the sensationist daily newspaper. Deeds outwits them all until Babe Bennett comes along. Babe is a hot-shot reporter who figures the best way to get close to Deeds is to pose as a damsel in distress. When small-town boy meets big-city girl anything can, and does, happen.

Corny, who do you think
you're talking to?

If the Semple attorneys don't know
who the heir is, who does?

Come on, Corny. I've done you a lot of
favors. Who's getting the Semple dough?

You're asking the wrong guy, Mac.
I'm only a press agent.

- Newspaperman?
- Wants to know who the heir is.

- Hang up.
- Sorry, Mac, I can't--

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

Mr. Cedar is,
and I haven't seen him in two days.

- Cedar, we gotta deal with the papers.
- I'm not interested in the newspapers.

But it's a great story. Somewhere
a guy is walking into 20 million bucks.

My first concern
is to locate the lucky man.



When I do, you keep
the newspapers away from him.

Okay, as long as that weekly stipend
keeps coming in.

We located him, Mr. Cedar.

- Yes, John, we got him.
- Here's the report.

Longfellow Deeds, single, 28,
lives in Mandrake Falls, Vermont.

- Thank heaven.
- Better wire him.

I'll do no such thing. I'm going
there myself. You too, Anderson.

You too, Cobb.

Make three train reservations
to Mandrake Falls, Vermont.

- Where?
- Mandrake Falls.

"Welcome to Mandrake Falls...

where the scenery enthralls...

where no hardship e'er befalls.

Welcome to Mandrake Falls."



That's pretty.

- You're sure he lives in this town?
- This is the town, all right.

Well, I hope it's not
a wild goose chase.

No, sir, we checked it thoroughly.
He lives here, all right.

I spy a native.
Let's ask him.

- Good morning.
- Morning, neighbors, morning.

That's an excellent start.
At least we've broken the ice.

Do you know a fellow
by the name of Longfellow Deeds?

Deeds?
Yes, sir. Yes, indeedy.

Everyone knows Deeds.

Must be a game he's playing.

We'd like to get in touch with him.

- Who's that?
- Deeds. Who do you think?

Oh, yes, Deeds.
Fine fellow. Very democratic.

You won't have no trouble at all.
Talks to anybody.

- We'd better try somebody else.
- No.

Next time he comes out, I'll straddle
him while you ask him your questions.

Morning, neighbors.

Remember us, the fellows
who were here a minute ago?

Oh, yes, indeedy.
I never forget a face.

Listen, pop.

We've come all the way from New York
to look up a fellow named Deeds.

It's important.
It's very important.

Don't get rough, neighbor.
Just ask.

Then please pretend, for just one
fleeting moment, that I'm asking.

- Where does he reside?
- Who?

Longfellow Deeds.
Where does he live?

Oh, that's what you want. Why didn't
you say so in the first place?

Those fellows don't know what they're
talking about. I'll take you there.

If they'd only explained to me
what they want, there'd be no trouble.

Oh. Will you come in,
please, gentlemen?

- Is Mr. Deeds in?
- No.

He's over to the park arranging a bazaar
to raise money for the fire engine.

Mal, you should've knowed
he was in the park.

Knowed it all the time,
but they wanted to see the house.

Can't read their minds
if they don't say what they want.

Come in, please.

- Can I get you a cup of tea?
- No, thank you.

Sit down. Sure I couldn't get you
a glass of lemonade or something?

No.
That's very kind of you.

- Are you related to him?
- No, I'm his housekeeper.

We'd like to find out something
about him. What does he do for a living?

He and Jim Mason own the tailor works,
but that's not how he makes his money.

- He makes most of it from his poetry.
- He writes poetry?

Oh, my goodness, yes.
Longfellow's famous.

He writes all those things
on postcards.

You know, for Christmas
and Easter and birthdays.

Sit down, please.

Here's one.
He got 25 dollars for this one.

"When you've nowhere to turn
and you're filled with doubt...

don't stand in midstream hesitating...

for you know that your mother's heart
cries out--

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

Isn't that beautiful?
Isn't it a lovely sentiment?

Yeah.

Here he is now.

I suggest you break it to him gently.
He's liable to keel over from the shock.

They've been waiting a long while.

- Who are they?
- I don't know.

- Mr. Longfellow Deeds?
- Yes.

How do you do?

I'm John Cedar, of the New York firm
of Cedar, Cedar, Cedar and Budington.

Budington must feel
like an awful stranger.

- Mr. Cornelius Cobb. Mr. Anderson.
- How do you do?

You gentlemen
make yourselves comfortable.

Thank you.

Thanks.

New mouthpiece.
Been waitin' two weeks for this.

Kids keep swiping them all the time.
They use 'em for bean shooters.

- What can I do for you gentlemen?
- You gentlemen going to stay to lunch?

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

- Are you Joseph and Mary Deeds' son?
- Yes.

- Your parents living?
- Why, no.

Well, Mr. Deeds, does the name of
Martin W. Semple mean anything to you?

Not much.
He's an uncle of mine, I think.

I never saw him.
My mother's name was Semple.

Well, he passed on. He was killed
in a motor accident in Italy.

He was? Gee, that's too bad.

- If there's anything I can do--
- I have good news for you, sir.

Mr. Semple left a large fortune
when he died.

He left it all to you.

Deducting the taxes...

it amounts to something in
the neighborhood of 20 million dollars.

How about lunch?
Are the gentlemen staying?

Of course.

She's got some fresh orange layer cake
with that thick stuff on the top.

Sure. They don't want
to go to the hotel.

Perhaps you didn't hear
what I said, Mr. Deeds.

The whole Semple fortune goes to you--
20 million dollars.

Oh, yes, I heard you, all right.
Twenty million is quite a lot, isn't it?

- It'll do in a pinch.
- Yes, indeed.

I wonder why he left me all that money.
I don't need it.

Mr. Cobb here
is an ex-newspaperman.

Associated with your uncle
for many years, as a sort of buffer.

Buffer?

Yeah.
A glorified doormat.

Rich people need someone to keep the
crowds away. The world's full of pests.

Then there's the newspapers.

One must know when to seek publicity
and when to avoid it.

Cedar, Cedar, Cedar and Budington.

I can't think
of a rhyme for "Budington."

Why should you?

Whenever I run across a funny name,
I like to poke around for a rhyme.

- Don't you?
- No.

- I've got one for Cobb.
- Yeah?

There once was a man named Cobb
who kept Semple away from the mob.

Came the turn of the tide
and Semple, he died.

Now poor Cobb's out of a job.

- Sounds like two weeks' notice to me.
- Huh?

I've gotten the sackeroo in many ways,
but never in rhyme.

I don't mean that.
I'll need your help.

That's different,
if it's just poetry.

Are you married?

Who, me? No.

He's too fussy for that.
That's what's the matter with him.

There's lots of nice girls
right here in Mandrake Falls--

Don't pay any attention to her.

He's got a lot of foolish notions
about saving a lady in distress.

Now, you keep out of this.

Saving a lady in distress, eh? We all
have dreams like that when we're young.

Incidentally, we'd better get started.
You'll have to pack.

- What for?
- You're going to New York with us.

- When?
- This afternoon, 4:00.

I don't think
we've got any suitcases.

Well, we could borrow a couple
from Mrs. Simpson.

She went to Niagara Falls
last year.

I'm kinda nervous. I've never been
away from Mandrake Falls in my life.

- Like to see Grant's tomb, though.
- I can understand that.

We'll meet you at the train
at 4:00.

Congratulations, Mr. Deeds. You're one
of the richest men in the country.

See you later.
Good-bye. Thank you.

- See you later, kid.
- Good day, sir.

Did you hear what he said?
Do you know how much 20 million is?

I don't care. You sit there and eat
your lunch. You haven't touched a thing.

For he's a jolly good fellow
For he's a jolly good fellow

For he's a jolly good fellow

Which nobody can deny

I can't find him. I looked everywhere.
His house is locked up.

- Probably had a change of heart.
- He wasn't anxious to come.

Here comes the train.

- Look.
- What?

That tuba player.

Well...

now I've seen everything.

Good-bye, Mrs. Meredith!

Good-bye, Jim!

Bye, Buddy!

Gosh, I got a lot of friends.

- Have a drink?
- No, thanks.

Cigar?

No, thank you.

I wouldn't worry if I were you.

A large portion like this entails great
responsibility, but you'll have help.

So don't worry.
Leave everything to me.

- I wasn't worried about that.
- No?

I was wondering where they're gonna
get another tuba player for the band.

- Hello, John. Where you been?
- I've been fishing.

Good morning, Mr. Cedar.

Good morning.
Where are they?

- Waiting for you.
- Good morning, Mr. Cedar.

Good morning.

- Hello, boys.
- Well, what's he like?

We've nothing to worry about.
He's as naive as a child.

Close that door.

- Get Mrs. Cedar on the phone.
- John, what happened?

The smartest thing I ever did
was to make that trip.

- John, did you get--
- No, Budington.

I didn't get the power of attorney,
but I will.

I asked him what he was going to do with
the money. What do you suppose he said?

Give it away.

- The boy must be a nitwit.
- John, you had the right hunch.

- John, we can't afford--
- I know, Budington.

We can't afford to have the books
investigated right now.

You've said that a thousand times.

What if they fall
into somebody else's hands?

It hasn't happened yet.

But half-a-million dollars,
my goodness--

Will you stop worrying!

I got Semple to turn it all over to us.
And who got power of attorney from him?

All right, then I'll get it again.

Now, take it easy. Those books
will never leave this office.

Yokel.
Nothing but a yokel.

Your uncle must've been mad
to leave all that money to him.

You're as closely related to him
as he is, and what did you get?

- I say, what did you get?
- Stop yelling.

- Can I help it if Uncle didn't like me?
- I told you to be nice to him.

Ten years we've waited
for that old man to kick off.

Then we were gonna be on Easy Street.
Yeah, on Easy Street.

- It's too late now. You're a nuisance.
- That's just what I'm gonna be.

I'm gonna be a nuisance
until I get ahold of some of that money.

He's news!

Every time he blows his nose,
it's news.

A corn-fed bohunk like that falling
into the Semple fortune is hot copy.

It's gotta be personal.
It's gotta have an angle.

What does he think about?
How does it feel to be a millionaire?

What does he think of New York?
Is he smart? Dumb? A million angles.

He's been here three days,
and what have you numbskulls brought in?

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

Am I talking too loud
or annoying anybody?

You know Corny Cobb.
He's keeping him under lock and key.

Never mind.
Use what little brains you've got.

Find out something for yourselves,
you imbecilic stupes.

Now get out of here before
I really tell you what I think of you.

- What was that?
- I said you had dirty plaster.

You too.

Thought I could depend on you,
but you're as bad as the rest.

Look. I can do it.

What's gotten into you, Babe?

Normally you'd blast this town wide open
before letting Cobb get away with this.

He's not getting away with anything.

Babe, get me some stuff on this guy
and you can have--

- Can I have a month's vacation?
- With pay.

With pay? Leave four columns open
on the front page tomorrow.

I'll keep the whole front page open.
What are you gonna do?

Have lunch.

The first time I ever
had a suit made on purpose.

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

but if you'll give me power of attorney,
we'll take care of everything.

It'll save you a lot of annoyances.
Everyone will try to sell you something.

There have been a lot of them already.
Strangest kind of people.

Salesmen, politicians, moochers.
All want something.

Haven't had a minute to myself.
Haven't seen Grant's tomb yet.

Your uncle didn't bother with that sort
of thing. He left everything to us.

He traveled, enjoyed himself.

You should do the same thing.

Besides wanting to be my lawyer...

you want to handle
my investments too?

- Yes. That is to say--
- How much extra would it cost?

- No extra charge.
- That's a lot of extra work.

But that's a service Cedar, Cedar,
Cedar and Budington usually donates.

Budington.

I can't think of a rhyme
for Budington yet.

The gentlemen from the opera are
still waiting in the board room, sir.

They're getting a trifle impatient.

I forgot about them.
What do you think they want?

Your uncle was chairman of the board.
They probably expect you to carry on.

I'll tell those mugs to keep their
shirts on and that you'll be right down.

Oh, did you send that telegram
to Jim Mason yet?

Jim Mason?
Oh, yeah, yeah.

No, I didn't send it. I've got it
written out, though. Here it is.

"Arthur's been with the tailor works
too long. Stop.

Don't think we should fire him.
Longfellow."

Send it right away.
I don't want him to fire Arthur.

Sure, we don't want to fire Arthur.

He was the last baby
my father delivered, Arthur was.

You ought to give this matter
some thought.

I mean about
the power of attorney.

Oh, yes, I will.
I'll give it a lot of thought.

There was a fellow named Winslow
here a while ago...

wanted to handle my business
for nothing too.

Puzzles me why these people want
to work for nothing. It isn't natural.

I guess I'd better
think about it some more.

That's that.

You go to an awful lot of work
to keep a fella warm.

Yes, sir.

A Mr. Hallor to see you, sir.

Hallor?
Don't let him in.

Why not? Who's he?

A lawyer representing a woman.
Some claim against the estate.

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

He'll cause you a lot of trouble.

How can he make trouble for me?
I haven't done anything.

- I told you to take this up with me.
- I'm tired of being pushed around.

I don't care
how important you are.

- Mr. Deeds, I represent Mrs. Semple.
- Mrs. Semple?

Your uncle's common-law wife.
She has a legal claim on the estate.

- Suppose we let the courts decide--
- You wouldn't dare take this to court.

I'll leave it to you.

Would any court not be in sympathy with
a woman who gave up her best years...

for an old man like your uncle?

- What kind of wife did you say?
- Common-law wife.

- On top of that, there's a child.
- Child? My uncle?

- Yes, sir.
- That's awful.

The poor woman should be
taken care of immediately.

I'm glad to see you're
willing to be reasonable.

If she was his wife, she should have
the money. I don't want a penny.

Don't make any rash promises.

Better go. That opera mob is about to
break into the mad song from Lucia.

I don't wanna keep them waiting.
They're important people.

- Very good, sir.
- I can't go down like this.

I wish you'd go along with me, Cobb.
They're all strangers to me.

- What about it, Mr. Deeds?
- Huh?

Oh. You'll excuse me, won't you?
I'll be right back.

Gee, I'm busy. Do the opera people
always come here for their meetings?

- Uh-huh.
- That's funny. Why's that?

Why do mice go
where there's cheese?

I'm led to believe
the young man's quite childish.

We won't have any difficulty
getting him to put up the entire amount.

- After all, it's only $180,000.
- Excellent idea.

We're very fortunate the young man
is so sympathetic toward music.

He plays the tuba
in the town band.

- Here he comes.
- Good.

The first order of business will be
electing a new chairman of the board.

As a sentimental gesture toward
the best friend that opera ever had--

the late Mr. Semple--

I think it only fitting that his nephew,
Mr. Longfellow Deeds...

should be made our next chairman.

- I therefore nominate him.
- Seconded.

- All those in favor?
- Aye!

Carried.

Our congratulations, Mr. Deeds.

- I'm chairman?
- Yes. You've just been elected.

- I'm chairman!
- Happy voyage.

Right here, Mr. Deeds.

Now, the next order of business--
the reading of the secretary's minutes.

- Move we dispense with it.
- Seconded.

- All in favor?
- Aye!

I think they can be
dispensed with.

- We're ready for the treasurer's report.
- Move we dispense with it.

- Seconded.
- All in favor.

Quite right. Now, gentlemen,
the next order of business--

Just a minute.
What does the chairman do?

Well, the chairman
presides the meeting.

That's what I thought.

But, if you don't mind, I'm rather
interested in the treasurer's report.

The treasurer reports a deficit
of $180,000 for the current year.

A deficit?
You mean we lost that much?

You see, Mr. Deeds, the opera
is not conducted for profit.

It isn't?
What is it conducted for?

It's an artistic institution.

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

- And we give shows?
- We provide opera.

But you charge--
I mean, you sell tickets?

- Of course.
- And it doesn't pay?

Impossible.
The opera has never paid.

Well, then, we must give
the wrong kind of shows.

There isn't any wrong or right kind.
Opera is opera.

I guess, but I wouldn't care to be head
of a business that kept losing money.

That wouldn't be common sense.

Incidentally, where is
the $180,000 coming from?

Well, we were rather expecting it
to come from you.

- Me?
- Naturally.

Excuse me, gentlemen.
There's nothing natural about that.

Fire engine!

Gee, that was a pip!

We're gonna have one like that in
Mandrake Falls soon, with a siren too.

Uh, where were we?

You see, the opera is not conducted
like any ordinary business.

- Why not?
- Because it just isn't a business.

Maybe it isn't to you,
but it certainly is to me...

if I have to make up a loss
of $180,000.

If it's losing that much money,
there must be something wrong.

Maybe you charge too much.
Maybe you're selling bad merchandise.

A lot of things.
I don't know.

You see, I expect to do
a lot of good with that money...

and I can't afford to put it into
anything that I don't look into.

That's my decision
for the time being, gentlemen.

Good-bye, and thank you
for making me chairman.

Gentlemen, you'll find the
smelling salts in the medicine chest.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

Those opera people are funny.
They wanted me to put up $180,000.

- What about it, Mr. Deeds?
- I turned them down, naturally.

- No, I mean about my client.
- Oh.

We'll have to do something
about the common wife.

- Tails tonight, sir?
- Tails?

Why, that's a monkey suit.

You want people to laugh at me?
I've never worn one of those in my life.

Good-bye, and thank you, sir.

Good-bye.
Wants me to wear a monkey suit.

- We don't want to appear greedy.
- Huh?

- I say, we don't want to appear greedy.
- Oh, that.

- What are you doing?
- Assisting you, sir.

I don't want anybody holding
the ends of my pants. Get up from there.

Imagine that.
Holding the ends of my pants.

Mrs. Semple is entitled by law
to one-third of the estate.

- Don't ever get on your knees again.
- No, sir.

What'd you say?

Mrs. Semple is entitled
to one-third of the estate.

One-third.
That's about seven million dollars.

Well, we didn't expect that much.

I'm sure I can get her
to settle quietly for one million.

Take up any settlement talk
with me in the office.

I'll do no such thing.

That's right. There's only one place
you're going, and that's out the door.

- You're making a mistake.
- Oh, no, I'm not.

I don't like your face.

Besides, there's something fishy about
a person who'd settle for a million...

when they can get seven million.

I'm surprised that Mr. Cedar,
who's supposed to be a smart man...

couldn't see through that.

Now, wait a minute, buddy--

One nice thing about being rich--
you ring a bell and things happen.

When the servant comes in, Mr. Hallor,
I'll ask him to show you to the door.

Many people
don't know where it is.

No use in getting tough. That'll
get you nowhere. We've got letters.

- Show Mr. Hallor to the front door.
- Yes, sir.

There isn't any wife, there aren't any
letters, and I think you're a crook...

so you'd better watch your step.

I can't hold out any longer.

Lamb bites wolf.
Beautiful.

It's only common sense.

I can't hold out any longer either,
Mr. Deeds.

Being an attorney for you
will be a very simple affair.

You're not my attorney yet, not
until I find out what's on your mind.

Suppose you get the books straightened
out so I can have a look at 'em.

Yes, of course, if you wish.

But you must be prepared. This sort
of thing will be daily routine.

If it becomes annoying,
you let me know.

Good-bye, Mr. Deeds.

Good-bye, sir.

Even his hands are oily.

Well, how about tonight? What would you
like in the way of entertainment?

Entertainment?

Your uncle had a weakness for dark ones.
Tall and stately.

How would you like yours?
Dark or fair?

Tall or short? Fat or thin?
Tough or tender?

- What are you talking about?
- Women.

Ever heard of 'em?

Oh!

- Name your poison, and I'll supply it.
- Some other time, Cobb.

Okay. You're the boss.

When your blood begins to boil,
yell out.

I'll be seeing you.

He talks about women
as if they were cattle.

Every man to his taste, sir.

Tell me, Walter, are all these stories
I hear about my uncle true?

Well, sir, he sometimes had as many
as 20 in the house at the same time.

- Twenty? What'd he do with 'em?
- That is something I never found out.

Hey! You going out?

- Yes. Isn't that all right?
- No.

- You never go out without telling us.
- Who are you?

We're your bodyguards.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.

Mr. Cobb said
stick to your tail.

That's very nice of Mr. Cobb, but I
don't want anybody sticking to my tail.

Sorry, mister.
Orders is orders.

We gotta get you up in the morning,
put you to bed at night.

Only it's all right. No matter
what we see, we don't see nothin', see?

- That's gonna be fun.
- Some people like it.

- Will you do something for me first?
- Sure.

Put that away, slug.
At your service.

- Would you get my trunk out for me?
- Certainly.

With pleasure.

We're your bodyguards!
You can't do this!

There he is.

- That's him.
- That's who?

- Get your cameras ready and follow me.
- What are you gonna do?

Never mind. Follow me
and grab whatever you can get.

It's gonna be
the same old thing.

- That dame is nuts.
- Right.

You fainted.

Oh, did I? I'm sorry.

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

This is my house.

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

What happened?

Well, I-- I guess
I walked too much.

I've been looking
for a job all day.

I found one too.
I start tomorrow.

You've been awfully kind.
Thank you very much.

Hey! Taxi!

Hey, Stu, follow that cab
they just got into, will ya!

- Hurry up! Step on it!
- Come on, let's go!

Feel better now?

This tastes so good.

Mr. Deeds, I don't know
how I can ever thank you.

Tell me more about yourself.

Well, I guess I've told you
almost everything there is to tell.

My folks live in a small town
near Hartford.

I'm down here alone
trying to make a living.

I'm really just a nobody.

Oh, that was so lovely.
Thank you.

You were a lady in distress,
weren't you?

What?

Nothing.

Waiter.

- Has anybody come in yet?
- Uh, no. Nobody important.

Be sure and point them out to me.

I'm a writer myself, you know.
I write poetry.

Well...

you've been having quite
an exciting time, haven't you?

With all these meetings,
business deals, society people...

haven't you been having fun?

No.

That is, I didn't until I met you.
I like talking to you though.

Imagine my finding you
right on my doorstep.

- Brookfield's just come in.
- Who? The poet? Where?

Over at that big round table.
The one that looks like a poodle.

Look, there's Brookfield,
the poet.

Really?

Pardon.

Longfellow Deeds, who just inherited
the Semple fortune, wants to meet you.

Oh, yes. I read about him.
He writes poetry on postcards.

Let's invite him over.
Might get a couple of laughs.

Getting rather dull around here.

It's always dull here.

- I'll get him.
- Good.

Mr. Henneberry.
Mr. Morrow. Bill.

This is Mr. Deeds and his fiancée
from Mandrake Falls.

How do you do, Mr. Deeds?

Nice of you to ask us
to come and sit with you.

Back home we never get a chance
to meet famous people.

- Waiter, a little service here.
- Yes, a drink for Mr. Deeds.

- I don't want it, thank you.
- You must. All poets drink.

Tell me, Mr. Deeds,
how do you go about writing your poems?

We craftsmen are very interested
in one another's methods.

Do you have to wait for an inspiration,
or do you just dash it off?

- Well, I--
- Morrow just dashes them off.

Yeah. That's what my publishers
have been complaining about.

Well, your readers don't complain,
Mr. Morrow.

Oh. Thanks.

How about you, Mr. Deeds?

Well, I write mine on order.

The people I work for tell me
what they want, and then I write it.

Amazing!

Why, that's true genius.

Have you any peculiar characteristics
when you're creating?

Well, I-- I play the tuba.

How original.

Well, I've been playing the harmonica
for 40 years.

Didn't do me a bit of good.

You wouldn't have one
in your pocket, would you?

What, a tuba?

No, a postcard
with one of your poems on it.

- Oh, no.
- You don't carry a pocketful with you?

Oh, too bad. I was hoping
you'd autograph one for me.

- I was too.
- Now wait a minute, boys.

Perhaps Mr. Deeds
would recite one for us.

That's a very good idea.

Nothing like a poet
reciting his own stuff.

How about a Mother's Day poem?

Exactly. Give us one that rings
the great American heart.

Yes. Go ahead.

I get the idea. I know why
I was invited here-- to make fun of me.

- Oh, not at all.
- Don't be ridiculous.

Look, he's temperamental.

Yeah? What if I am?
What about it?

It's easy to make fun of somebody
if you don't care how much you hurt 'em.

I think your poems are swell,
Mr. Brookfield...

but I'm disappointed in you.

I must look funny to you...

but maybe if you went to Mandrake Falls
you'd look just as funny to us...

only nobody would laugh at you
and make you feel ridiculous...

because that wouldn't be
good manners.

Maybe writing postcard poems is comical,
but a lot of people think they're good.

Anyway, it's the best I can do.

So if you'll excuse me,
we'll be leaving.

I guess I found out that
all famous people aren't big people.

Just one thing more.

If it weren't for Miss Dawson being
here, I'd bump your heads together.

Oh, I don't mind.

Then I guess maybe I will.

Waiter!

Eureka!

Stop it.
Go away, go away.

Step aside.

Say, fella, you neglected me
and I feel very put out.

Look, sock it right there, will ya?
Sock it hard.

- I've got it off my chest.
- Oh, listen.

The difference between them and me is,
I know when I've been a skunk.

You take me to the nearest newsstand and
I'll eat a pack of your postcards raw.

Raw!

Oh, what a magnificent deflation
of smugness!

Pal, you've added ten years
to my life.

A poet with a straight left
and a right hook? Delicious. Delicious.

You're my guest from now on,
forever and a day, even unto eternity.

- Thanks, but we're going sightseeing.
- Fine. Fine. Swell.

You've just shown me a sight lovely
to behold, and I'd like to reciprocate.

Listen, you hop aboard my magic carpet--
Thanks--

and I'll show you sights
that you've never seen before.

I'd like to see Grant's tomb
and the Statue of Liberty.

You'll not only see those,
but before the evening's half through...

you'll be leaning against
the Leaning Tower of Pisa...

you'll mount Mount Everest.

I'll show you the pyramids
and all the little pyramidees...

leaping from sphinx to sphinx.

Pal, how would you like to go on
a real old-fashioned binge?

- Binge?
- Yeah, I mean the real McCoy.

You play saloon with me...

and I'll introduce you to every wit,
nitwit and half-wit in New York.

We'll go on a twister that'll make
Omar the soused philosopher of Persia...

look like an anemic
on a goat's milk diet.

- That oughta be fun, huh?
- Fun? Say--

Listen, I'll take you
on a bender...

that will live in your memory
as a thing of beauty and a joy forever.

Boy? Boy, my headpiece!

O Tempora! O Mores! O Bacchus!

- Oh, you're drunk.
- Oh, you're right!

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

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

This is one of the many startling
statements made by Longfellow Deeds...

New York's new Cinderella Man...

who went out last night to prove
that his uncle, the late M.W. Semple...

from whom he inherited
20 million dollars...

was an amateur in the art of standing
the town on its cauliflower ear."

"Cinderella Man."
That's sensational, Babe, sensational.

Took some high-powered acting,
believe me.

- Did it?
- I was the world's sweetest ingenue.

Is he really that big a sap?

He's the original.
There are no carbon copies of that one.

"Cinderella Man." That'll stick to him
for the rest of his life.

Can you imagine Cobb's face
when he reads this?

If we could sell tickets,
we'd make a fortune.

- How'd you get the picture?
- Had the boys follow us.

Marvelous.

"At 2:00 a.m.
Mr. Deeds tied up traffic...

while he fed a bagful of donuts
to a horse.

When asked why he was doing it
he replied...

'To see how many donuts the horse would
eat before he asked for some coffee.'"

Beautiful!
What happened after that?

I don't know. I had to write the story.
He was so drunk he never even missed me.

When are you gonna see him again?

Tonight, maybe.

I'll phone him at noon--
my lunch hour.

I'm a stenographer, you know.
Mary Dawson.

You're a genius, Babe, a genius.

I even moved into
Mabel Dawson's apartment...

in case old snoopy Cobb
might start looking around.

Good. Stay there.
Don't show your face down here.

I'll say you're on vacation. No one will
know where the stories are coming from.

Stick close to him. You can get
an exclusive out of him every day.

We'll have the other papers crazy.

- Babe, I could kiss ya!
- Oh, no. No.

- Our deal was for a month's vacation.
- Sure.

- With pay.
- You'll get it, Babe.

Mr. Deeds, sir.

You really must get up.
It's late.

- You're Walter, aren't you?
- Yes, sir.

Just wanted to make sure.

If you'll permit me to say so, sir, you
were out on quite a bender last night.

Bender?
You're wrong, Walter.

We started out to a binge,
but we never got to it.

Yes, sir.

- What's that?
- A prairie oyster, sir.

Prairie oyster?

Yes, sir.
It makes the head feel smaller.

Oh.

- Has Miss Dawson called yet?
- No Miss Dawson has called, sir.

She was the lady in distress.

She wouldn't let me help her.
Had a lot of pride. I like that.

Oh, I do too, sir.

I'd better call her up and apologize.
I don't remember taking her home.

I'd venture to say you don't remember
much of what happened last night, sir.

What do you mean?
I remember everything.

Hand me my pants. I wrote
her phone number on a piece of paper.

You have no pants, sir.

You came home last night
without them.

- I did what?
- You came home without any clothes.

You were in your shorts.

Yes, sir.

I couldn't walk around on the streets
without any clothes. I'd be arrested.

That's what
the two policemen said, sir.

- What two policemen?
- The ones who brought you home, sir.

They said you and another gentleman kept
going up and down the street shouting...

"Back to nature! Clothes are a blight
on civilization! Back to nature!"

Listen, Walter, if a man named Morrow
calls up, tell him I'm not in.

He may be a great author, but...

I think he's crazy, Walter.

Yes, sir.

Oh, by the way, did you--

- The knee.
- But how will I put on the slipper, sir?

Yes, sir.

I beg pardon, sir, but did you ever
find what you were looking for, sir?

Looking for?

You kept searching me last night, sir,
going through all my pockets.

You said you were looking
for a rhyme for "Budington."

- Better bring me some coffee, Walter.
- Very good, sir.

Oh, I beg pardon.
A telegram came for you, sir.

I'll get you some black coffee, sir.

Did you see all this stuff
in the paper?

- Arthur wants to quit.
- Arthur? Who's Arthur?

He's the shipping clerk
at the tailor works.

Wants a two-dollar raise,
or he'll quit.

What do I care about Arthur?
Did you see this stuff in the paper?

How did it get in there? What did you
do last night? Who were you talking to?

And what did you do
to those bodyguards?

They quit this morning.
Said you locked them up.

They insisted on following me.

- What do you think bodyguards are for?
- What do they mean by this?

- "Cinderella Man."
- Are those stories true?

"Cinderella Man"?

They'd call you anything if you gave 'em
a chance. They got you down as a sap.

- I'll punch this editor in the nose.
- No, you don't! Get this clear.

Socking people in the nose
is no solution for anything.

- Sometimes it's the only solution.
- Not editors. Take my word for it.

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

You got brains, kid.

You'll get along swell if you'll only
curb your homicidal instincts.

And keep your trap shut.
These newshounds are gunning for you.

- What about this "Cinderella Man"?
- I'll take care of that.

I'll keep that stuff out of the papers,
if you'll help me.

But I can't do anything
if you go around talking to people.

Will you promise me
to be careful from now on?

Yes, I guess I'll have to.

Thank you.

If you feel the building rock,
it'll be me, blasting into this editor.

Cobb's right.
I mustn't talk to anybody.

- Miss Dawson on the phone, sir.
- Who? Miss Dawson?

- Yes, sir.
- Fine. I'll talk to her.

Give me the phone, quick.

She's the only one
I'm gonna talk to.

- Awfully nice of you to show me around.
- I enjoy it.

The aquarium was swell. If I lived
in New York, I'd go every day.

I bet you do.

I'd like to,
but I have a job to think of.

You'd better
keep following that bus!

Keep your shirt on!

- Looks like no pictures tonight.
- Maybe I oughta get him drunk again.

Got any news? I mean, has anything
exciting been happening lately?

Sure. I met you.

What's happening about the opera?

Oh, that. We had another meeting.
I told 'em I'd go on being chairman if--

- I'm chairman, you know.
- Yeah, I know.

I told 'em I'd play along
if they lowered prices...

cut down expenses
and broadcast.

Oh. What'd they say?

Gee, you look pretty tonight.

- What'd they say?
- Huh? Oh.

They said I was crazy. They said
I wanted to run it like a grocery store.

What are they going to do?

Do you always wear your hair
like that?

Isn't it a scream?
"Cinderella Man." The dope.

Like to get my hooks
into that guy.

Don't worry. Someone's
probably taking him for plenty.

If they were men
I'd knock their heads together.

- Have you seen the papers?
- Uh-huh.

That's what I like about you.
You think about a man's feelings.

I'd like to punch the fella in the nose
that's writing that stuff.

"Cinderella Man."

Pretty soon everybody'll
be calling me Cinderella Man.

Would you like to walk the rest
of the way? It's so nice out.

- Yes.
- Yeah, let's.

Hey, wise guys, he's getting off.

Come on, pull up to the curb!

Oh, come on.
Don't you want to see it?

Well, feast your eyes.
Grant's tomb.

Is that it?

Hey, beetle puss.

The tomb.

Well, there you are. Grant's tomb.
I hope you're not disappointed.

- It's wonderful.
- To most people it's an awful letdown.

Huh?

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

That depends on what they see.

- And what do you see?
- Me?

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

becoming a great soldier.

I see thousands of marching men.

I see General Lee,
with a broken heart, surrendering.

I can see the beginning of a new nation,
like Abraham Lincoln said.

And I can see that Ohio boy
being inaugurated as president.

Things like that can only happen
in a country like America.

Excuse me.

Sorry, Mr. Hopper.
Mr. Cedar won't answer his phone.

- What's going on in the boss's office?
- Search me.

The three C's and little "B"
have been in there over an hour.

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

Yes, I know. A week's gone by and
we haven't got power of attorney yet.

- Yes, but you said--
- I can't strangle him, can I?

It's ridiculous for us
to have to worry about a boy like that.

Look at these articles.
"Cinderella Man."

- He's carrying on like a idiot.
- Exactly what I was saying--

Who cares?

- Yeah?
- Mr. and Mrs. Semple are still waiting.

Let 'em wait.

They've been in
every day this week.

- Who are they?
- Relatives of old man Semple.

They keep insisting
they should have some nuisance value.

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

Nuisance value.

Maybe they have.

Mr. and Mrs. Semple, please.

How do you do?
I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting.

What was my secretary thinking,
keeping you waiting this long?

Will you have a cigar,
Mr. Semple?

Thanks.

- There's Times Square.
- You can almost spit on it, can't you?

Why don't you try?

It's breezy up here.

You're worried about those articles
they're writing about you, aren't you?

Oh, I'm not worrying anymore.

They'll go on writing 'em
until they get tired.

You don't believe all that stuff,
do you?

Oh, they just do it
to sell the newspapers, you know.

Yeah, I guess so.

What puzzles me is why people
seem to get so much pleasure...

out of hurting each other.

Why don't they try liking each other
once in a while?

Shall we go?

Here's a nice place.

Yeah. Anyway,
there aren't any photographers around.

You said something to me when you first
met me I've thought about a great deal.

- What's that?
- You said I was a lady in distress.

Oh. That.

- What did you mean by that?
- Nothing.

Have you got a--

Are you engaged or anything?

- No. Are you?
- No.

You don't go out
with girls very much, do you?

- I haven't.
- Why not?

Oh, I don't know.

You must've met a lot of society girls.
Don't you like them?

I haven't met anybody here
that I like particularly.

They all seem to have St. Vitus' Dance.
Except you, of course.

People here are funny.

They work so hard at living,
they forget how to live.

Last night, after I left you,
I was walking along...

and looking at the tall buildings...

and I got to thinkin'
about what Thoreau said--

"They created a lot
of grand palaces here...

but they forgot to create
the noblemen to put in them."

I'd rather have Mandrake Falls.

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

- Probably as small as Mandrake Falls.
- What do you know about that!

It's a beautiful little town too.

Grove poplar trees
right along main street.

Always smells
as if it just had a bath.

- I've often thought about going back.
- You have?

Oh, yes.

I used to have a lot of fun there.
I loved going fishing with my father.

You know, that's funny.
He was a lot like you, my father was.

He talked like you too.

Sometimes he let me hold the line
while he smoked.

We'd just sit there for hours.

After a while, for no reason,
I'd go over, kiss him, sit in his lap.

He never said very much,
but once I remember him saying...

"No matter what happens, honey,
don't complain."

He sounds like a person
well worth knowing.

- He played in the town band too.
- He did?

- I play the tuba.
- Yeah, I know.

- What did he play?
- Drums. He taught me to play some.

- He did?
- Mm-hmm. I can do "Swanee River."

- Would you like to hear me?
- Sure.

Let's see, now.

Way down

Upon the Swanee River

Far, far away

There's where my heart
is going ever

There's where the old folks stay

Oh, I suppose you could do better.

Sure.
I can sing "Humoresque."

I bet you don't even know
how it goes.

Sure. You sing it over again,
and I'll do "Humoresque" with it.

You better be good.

I wonder if they want
to make it a quartet.

- Ready?
- Yeah.

Way down upon the Swanee River

Far, far away

There's where my heart
is going ever

There's where the old folks stay

All the world is sad and dreary

Everywhere I go

Fire engines.

Fire engine! I wanna see how they do it.
Wait for me, will you?

Looks like the evening's
not gonna be wasted.

Hello. What do you want?

Captain Deeds, fire volunteer,
Mandrake Falls.

Hi, Cap.
Boys, meet the captain.

- What's the matter, hon?
- Nothing.

What's up, Babe?
Something's eatin' you.

No, it's nothing.

My unfailing instinct tells me
something's gone wrong with the stew.

Don't be ridiculous.

You haven't gotten very far, have you?
That's where you were an hour ago.

Let's knock off and go down to Joe's.
The gang's waitin' for us.

I can't write it, Mabel.
I don't know what's the matter with me.

Uh-uh.

Yeah, she's here.
Who wants her?

Who?

Oh, yes.
Yes, just a moment.

It's him. Whatchamacallit.
The Cinderella Man.

The Cinderella Man.

Couldn't sleep. Kind of wanted
to talk to you. Do you mind?

No, not at all.
I couldn't sleep either.

I wanted to thank you again
for going out with me.

Huh?

I don't know
what I'd do without you.

You've made up
for all the fakes I've met.

Well, that's very nice.
Thank you.

You know what I've been doin'
since I got home?

I've been workin' on a poem.

It's about you.

Sometimes it's kind of hard for me
to say things, so I write 'em.

I'd like to read it sometime.

Maybe I'll have it finished
next time I see you.

Will I see you soon?

Gosh, that's swell, Mary.
Good night.

Good night.

Mabel, that guy's either the dumbest,
most imbecilic idiot in the world...

or the grandest thing alive.

- I can't make him out.
- Uh-huh.

- I'm crucifying him.
- People have been crucified before.

Why do we have to do it?

You started out to be
a successful newspaperwoman.

- And then what?
- Search me. Ask the Gypsies.

Here's a guy
that's wholesome and fresh.

To us he looks like a freak.

Do you know
what he told me tonight?

When he gets married he wants to
carry his bride over the threshold.

The guy's balmy.

Is he?
Yeah, I thought so too.

I tried to laugh,
but it stuck in my throat.

Cut it out, will ya? You'll get me
thinking about Charlie again.

He's got goodness, Mabel.

Do you know what that is?

Of course you don't. We've forgotten.
We're too busy being smart alecks.

Too busy in a crazy
competition for nothing.

I beg pardon, sir.

- Madame Pomponi is on the telephone.
- Who?

Madame Pomponi. She says that everything
is all set for the reception.

- Don't come in here when I'm playing.
- But she's on the telephone, sir.

Get out.
The evil finger's on you.

- The finger, sir?
- Get out!

Stop!

- Did you hear that?
- What, sir?

Why, that's an echo, sir.

- You try it.
- Me, sir?

Louder.

- You try it.
- Me, sir?

Louder.

You try it.

All together.

Again.

Let that be a lesson to you.

Go back to your rooms,
both of you.

Hello, darling.

- So good of you to come.
- Oh, Madame Pomponi.

- I'm so happy to have you here.
- I'm dying to see the Cinderella Man.

- Shh. He may hear you.
- Even if he did, he wouldn't understand.

Bad as that, eh?

I hear he still believes
in Santa Claus.

Will he be Santa Claus?
That's what I wonder.

Are your slippers ready
for the Cinderella Man?

- Think he'll go for that?
- Don't be bashful.

With 20 million dollars,
he doesn't have to have looks.

He won't have it long with
that Pomponi woman hanging around him.

My dears, I hear that he can't think
unless he plays his tuba.

You're a fool, Babe.

I just couldn't stand
seeing him again.

Running away is no solution.
What'll I tell him if he calls up?

Tell him I had to leave suddenly.
Got a job in China, someplace.

- You're acting like a schoolgirl.
- What else can I do?

Keeping this up's no good.
He's bound to find out sometime.

At least I can save him that.

- Where is everybody?
- Come on, Babe. The artillery's ready.

It's those two sore spots again.

- Should've been down to the office.
- Yeah. Mac threw Cobb out again.

- Boy, was he burning.
- Just a minute. No, you don't.

Just one little drink,
and then we're ready to shoo.

- We're not going out tonight.
- I thought you had a date with him.

It's off. He's having
a party at his house.

- Say, what's the matter with her now?
- You wouldn't know if I drew a diagram.

- Run along. Peddle your little tintypes.
- Say, what is this?

Throwing us out of here
is getting to be a regular habit.

Is Mary Dawson here?
I'm Longfellow Deeds.

Yes. Of course.
Longfellow Deeds.

Come in.
Step in, please.

You're Mabel, her sister,
aren't you?

Yes. Yes. Of course.
Her sister.

Yes, I've been her sister
a long time.

- Is she home?
- Yeah. What?

- Is Mary home?
- Oh, Mary. Yes, of course.

I don't know whether she's home or not.
I'll see. There she is.

- Hello.
- Hello, Mary.

I waited in the park over an hour.
I thought maybe you'd forgotten.

I didn't think you could come,
with the party and everything.

I wouldn't let them stop me
from seeing you, so I threw them out.

- You threw them out?
- You mean, by the neck or something?

Sure. They got on my nerves,
so I threw them out.

That'll be in the papers tomorrow,
give them something else to laugh at.

I don't mind, though.
I had a lot of fun doing it.

- Would you like to go for a walk?
- Yeah, if it isn't too late.

I'll get my hat.

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

Yes. Lovely.
Had a lot of nice weather lately.

Yeah. It'd be a nice night
to go for a walk, don't you think?

Yeah, I think it'd be a swell night
to go for a walk. A nice long one.

- Ready?
- Gosh.

- She looks better every time I see her.
- Thank you.

Good night. Don't worry.
I won't keep her out late.

Thank you so much.
Good night.

- My foot's asleep.
- No, you don't.

- Listen, she told us--
- No more photographs.

Glad you wanted to take a walk, Mary,
'cause I wanted to talk to you.

Let's just walk, hmm?

All right.

Mary, I'm going home.

Are you? When?

A day or so, I think.

- I don't blame you.
- A man ought to know where he fits in.

I just don't fit in around here.

I once had an idea
I could do something with the money...

but they kept me so busy
I haven't had time to figure it out.

I guess I'll wait
till I get back home.

Do you mind if I talk to you, Mary?
You don't have to pay any attention.

No, I don't mind.

All my life
I've wanted somebody to talk to.

Back in Mandrake Falls,
I used to always talk to a girl.

- A girl?
- Only an imaginary one.

I used to hike a lot through the woods,
and I'd always take this girl with me...

so I could talk to her.

I'd show her my pet trees and things.

It sounds kind of silly,
but we had a lot of fun doing it.

She was beautiful.

I haven't married,
'cause I've been kind of waiting.

You know, my mother and father
were a great couple.

I thought I might have
the same kind of luck.

I've always hoped that someday
that imaginary girl...

would turn out to be real.

Well, here we are again.

Yes, here we are again.
Good night.

Good night.

Excuse me.

Good-bye, darling.

Don't let anybody hurt you again, ever.
They can't anyway. You're much too real.

You go back to Mandrake Falls.
It's where you belong.

Good-bye.

You know the poem I told you about?
It's finished.

Would you like to read it?
It's to you.

Yes. Of course.

You don't have to say anything, Mary.
You can tell me tomorrow what you think.

"I tramped the Earth
with hopeless feet...

searching in vain
for a glimpse of you.

Then heaven thrust you
at my very feet...

a lovely angel,
too lovely to woo.

My dream has been answered,
but my life's just as bleak.

I'm handcuffed and speechless
in your presence divine.

For my heart longs to cry out.
If it only could speak.

I love you, my angel.
Be mine. Be mine."

Oh, darling.

You don't have to say anything now. I'll
wait till tomorrow to hear from you.

What's the big idea?

Stop it, Babe. Stop it.

What do you mean, you're quitting?
You might as well tell me I'm quitting.

What's bothering you?

Last night
he proposed to me.

Proposed to you?
You mean, he asked you to marry him?

- Yes.
- Why, Babe! That's terrific!

"Cinderella Man woos mystery girl.
Who is the myster--"

Print one line of that
and I'll blow your place up.

Sorry, Babe. Sorry.
I just got carried away.

That's too bad.
That would've made a swell story.

So, he proposed to you?

What a twist.
You set out to nail him, and he--

Yeah. Funny twist, isn't it?

You haven't gone
and fallen for that mug, have you?

Well, I'll be.
That's tough.

- What are you going to do?
- I'm going to tell him the truth.

Tell him you're Babe Bennett? Tell him
you've been making a stooge out of him?

I'm having lunch with him today.
He expects an answer.

- It's going to be pretty.
- You're crazy. You can't do that.

He'll probably kick me
right down the stairs. I hope he does.

I'll put you on another job.
You need never see him again.

That's the rub.

It's as bad as that?

Telling him's the long shot.
I'm going to take it.

Well, it was fun
while it lasted, Mac.

I'll clean out my desk.

- How's it going?
- Yes. Quite all right. Thank you, sir.

- Gold?
- Yes, sir.

- Fourteen karat.
- Yes, sir.

- Is that the best you got?
- Yes, sir.

Those flowers are too high.
I won't be able to see her.

- Get a smaller bowl, will you?
- A smaller bowl of flowers, yes.

- Yes, sir. A smaller bowl of flowers.
- Did you get that stuff?

- Stuff, sir?
- Yeah, that goo that tastes like soap.

Yes, sir. Here it is.
The pâté de foie gras, sir.

That's fine.
Have a lot of it, 'cause she likes it.

- Yes.
- Now you got the idea.

That's fine.
Sit over there, will you?

- Me, sir?
- Yeah.

You're too tall.
Slink lower, will you?

Yes.

More.

Now forward.

How is this, sir?

Perfect.

I wish you luck, sir.

Thank you. Now, don't touch a thing.
Leave everything as it is.

Yes.

- Where are you?
- What is it, sir? Anything happened?

"Anything happened?" I got to get
dressed. I can't meet her like this.

- But she isn't due for an hour, sir.
- What's an hour? Time flies.

- My tie?
- Yes, very good, sir.

Yes, sir.

Way down upon the Swanee River

Just as I suspected,
wise guy.

I don't mind you making a sap out of
yourself, but you made one of me too.

Will you tell the gentleman
I'm not in?

Mary Dawson, hmm?
Mary Dawson, my eye.

That dame took you for a sleigh ride
New York will laugh about for years.

She's the slickest two-timing,
double-crossing--

- What are you talking about?
- Go ahead. Sock away.

And then try
to laugh this off.

She's the star reporter
on the Mail.

Every time you opened your kisser,
you gave her another story.

She's the dame who slapped that moniker
on you: Cinderella Man.

You've been making love
to a double dose of cyanide.

Shut up!

Listen, Babe. I can't let you quit now.
Are you going through with this?

This is for you, Mac.
Names of all the head waiters in town.

You can always buy a better choice of
scandal from them at reasonable prices.

I've seen them get in a rut like you
before, but they always come back.

Hello? Yes?
Just a minute. It's for you.

A couple of weeks, you'll get the itch
so bad you'll be working for nothing.

- Hello?
- Babe Bennett? Just a minute.

- Hello, Mary?
- Hello, darling.

Is it you who's been
writing those articles about me?

Why, I was just leaving.
I'll be up there in a minute.

Look-- Yes, I did,
but I was just coming up to explain.

Listen, darling.
Wait a minute. Please.

Listen.

I beg pardon, sir. Should
I serve the wine with the squab, sir?

I beg pardon, sir?

If I knew you were going to take it
so hard, I would've kept my mouth shut.

Sorry.

Pack my things, Walter.
I'm going home.

Yes, sir.

You shouldn't be running away like this.
What's going to happen to the estate?

They can have the estate.

Nobody's going to kick me out.
Let me go!

I want to see that guy!
Let me go!

I want to see him!
There he is.

I just want to get a look at him.
There you are.

I just wanted to see
what kind of a man you were.

I wanted to see what a man looked like
that could spend thousands on a party...

while people around him were hungry.

The Cinderella Man? Did you think
how many families could have been fed...

on the money you pay out
to get on the front pages?

- Let me alone!
- Let him alone.

If you know what's good for you,
you'll let me get this off my chest.

How did you feel
feeding donuts to a horse?

Got a kick out of it?
Got a big laugh?

Did you ever think of feeding donuts
to human beings? No!

- Shall I call the police, sir?
- No!

What do you want?

Yeah, that's all that's worrying you:
What do I want?

A chance to feed a wife and kids.
I'm a farmer. A job.

- That's what I want.
- A farmer? You're a moocher.

I wouldn't believe you or anybody else
on a stack of Bibles.

You're a moocher like all the rest
of them around here, so get out.

Sure, everybody's a moocher to you.

A mongrel dog eating out of
a garbage pail is a moocher to you.

- This won't do you any good.
- Stay where you are! Get over there!

You're about to get
some more publicity, Mr. Deeds.

You're about
to get on the front page again.

See how you're going
to like it this time.

What good's your money when you're six
feet under? You never thought of that.

All you ever thought of was pinching
pennies, you money-grabbing hick.

You never gave a thought to all of those
starving people in the bread lines...

not knowing where
their next meal was coming from...

not able
to feed their wife and kids.

Not able to--

I'm glad I didn't hurt nobody.
Excuse me.

Crazy.

You get all kinds
of crazy ideas.

Sorry.

I didn't know
what I was doing.

Losing your farm
after 20 years' work.

Seeing your kids go hungry.

Game little wife saying
everything's going to be all right.

Standing there in the bread lines.

It killed me
to take a handout. I--

I ain't used to it.

Go ahead and do
what you want with me, mister.

I guess I'm
at the end of my rope.

Could I take some of this
home with me?

- Are you married?
- Yes, sir.

- Any children?
- No children.

All right, Mr. Dodsworth.
I think you'll qualify.

Take this to that desk over there
for further instructions.

- Thank you very much.
- Next, please.

- How many does that make?
- You've okayed 819.

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

We need 1,100 more.

Hello? Yes. Yeah.

The water development seems okay.
I don't like the road layout.

Come up tonight about 10:00
and bring the maps. Right.

Here's the order for the plows.
We got a good price on them.

That's fine. Thanks.
I'll look them over later.

Mr. Deeds, my wife wanted me to tell you
she prays for you every night.

I-- Well, thanks.

- How do you do? What is your name?
- George Rankin, sir.

No, no, we're not buying any bulls.
What's that?

Listen, fellow. Bull's
what I've been selling all my life.

We've little time. He's ordered me to
turn everything over to him immediately.

We have to work fast,
before he disposes of every penny.

See, I told you something could be done.
I knew it all the time. Sign it, dear.

- We may get into trouble.
- Don't be so squeamish.

There's millions involved.
After all, you have your legal rights.

- You're his only living relative.
- What's it say?

That's your agreement with Mr. Cedar
in case we win.

My end is going to be rather expensive.
I have important people to take care of.

I have the legal machinery ready to go.
I've been working on nothing else.

You say the word, and we'll
stop this yokel dead in his tracks.

- Sign it!
- All right.

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

- Go to it. Charlie?
- Yeah?

Find out who wrote those articles
and subpoena him right away.

- So what is your name?
- Christian Swenson.

- Farmer?
- Yes, ma'am.

- Where is your farm?
- South Dakota, north.

- South Dakota North?
- South Dakota, but on the top.

- What about knocking off for lunch?
- Not hungry.

I want to get through this work
in a hurry, and then I want to go home.

Come on. What are you
trying to do, keel over?

You haven't been out of this house
in two weeks.

Maybe I'll have a sandwich.
Do you mind waiting a few minutes?

Sure. If you like
to have a sandwich...

I can give you one, please.

Thanks. Thank you.

Never mind, Cobb.

Good.

- Get lunches for the rest of them.
- What?

There must be 2,000 of them
out there.

- That doesn't make them less hungry.
- Okay, Santa Claus. 2,000 lunches.

Say something.

Go ahead. Tell him.

Mr. Deeds, the boys here
wanted me to say a little something.

They just wanted me to say that--

They wanted me to say
that we think you're swell.

And that's no baloney.

- Say something more.
- Give me a chance, fellows.

We're all down and out. A fellow
like you comes along, it gives us hope.

- Break it up. Get back.
- They just wanted me to say that I've--

That's him.

- Are you Longfellow Deeds?
- Yes.

Sheriff's office. We got a warrant
to take you into custody.

- A what?
- A warrant for your arrest.

- What's up? What do you wonks want?
- I don't know nothing.

All I know is the sheriff
gives me an insanity warrant to execute.

Insanity?
Who says he's insane?

The complainant is a relative
of the late Martin Semple.

The charges are that Mr. Deeds is insane
and incapable of handling the estate.

Somebody got panic-stricken? Where
do you think you're going to take him?

- County Hospital.
- Of course, that's only temporary.

The hearing
will follow immediately.

That's fine.

Just because I want to give this money
to people who need it...

they think I'm crazy.

That's marvelous.

- Let's get it going.
- Wait. We're going to get a lawyer.

- I'll call Cedar.
- Don't bother.

I'm from Mr. Cedar's office.
He represents the complainant.

- Let's go. We're wasting time.
- All right. I'll go.

But get your hands off me.

Come on. Get back.

Step back.

Come on. Get back.

Boss, everybody in town
has been here to see him.

Yes, sir. I will. Good-bye.
Sorry, lady. It's you again.

- Please. I've got to see him.
- Listen, sister.

For the 14th and last time,
he don't want to see nobody.

- Will you just give him my name?
- Listen, toots.

Just between us, there isn't a thing
in the world the matter with that guy...

till I mention your name;
then he goes haywire.

What are you going to do?
Sit back and let them railroad you?

It's as pretty a frame-up
as ever hit this rotten town.

If you'd just
let me get you a lawyer.

You can't walk into that courtroom
without being ready to protect yourself.

Cedar's too smart. With the talent he's
got lined up against you, you'll cook.

Listen, pal.
I know just how you feel.

A blonde in Syracuse
put me through the same paces.

I came out with a sour puss,
but full of fight.

Come on.
You don't want to lay down now.

They're trying to prove you're nuts.
They'll shove you in the bug house.

The moment they accused you of it,
they had you half licked.

You've got to fight.

Go on.
Sit down, won't you? Yes.

So long, Mr. Cobb.

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

Haven't you done
enough damage already?

Somebody's got to help him.
He hasn't a chance against Cedar.

I've been talking to everybody. I've got
Mac lined up and the paper's behind him.

I can get Livingston too. With a lawyer
like Livingston, he's got a chance.

You're wasting your time.
He doesn't want any lawyers.

He's so low, he doesn't want anybody's
help. You can take a bow for that.

As swell a guy as ever hit this town and
you crucified him for some headlines.

You've done your bit.
Now stay out of his way.

There he is now.

Here he is.

Cedar just sent for me.
He wants to make a settlement.

Here's your chance to get out
of the whole mess. What do you say?

Rise, please.

Supreme Court, State of New York,
County of New York now in session...

the Honorable Judge May presiding.

Be seated.

The court wishes to warn those present
it will tolerate no disturbances.

Regarding the sanity hearing
of Longfellow Deeds...

You represented by counsel,
Mr. Deeds?

I understand
you have no counsel.

In fact, that you have no intention
of defending any of these charges.

Now, if you wish to change your mind,
the hearing can be postponed.

Crazy.

Proceed.

In the interest of my client,
the only other living relative...

of the late Martin W. Semple...

we cannot permit a fortune so huge
to be dissipated by a person...

whose incompetency and abnormality we
shall prove beyond any reasonable doubt.

I have before me a series of articles
written by a newspaperwoman...

who was an eyewitness to this conduct
ever since he came to New York.

She tells how in the midst
of a normal conversation...

he would suddenly
begin playing his tuba.

She tells of his attack upon several
of our eminent writers for no reason.

I, myself, unable to keep pace with his
mental quirks and fearful of assault...

turned down an opportunity
to represent him as his attorney.

This newspaperwoman,
whom we have subpoenaed to testify...

tells how he held up traffic for an hour
feeding donuts to a poor horse.

We have photographs
to substantiate this little episode.

Another photograph showing Mr. Deeds
jumping about a fire engine.

This scarcely sounds
like the action of a man...

in whom the disposition of $20 million
may safely be entrusted.

The writer of these articles,
a woman...

whose intelligence and integrity in
the newspaper world is unquestioned...

held him in such contempt that she quite
aptly named him the Cinderella Man.

We have witnesses here
from Mandrake Falls...

his own hometown, who will tell of
his conduct throughout his lifetime...

proving that his derangement is
neither a recent nor a temporary one.

We have others who will tell
of his unusual behavior...

when he invited the great leaders
of the musical world to his home...

and then proceeded
to forcibly eject them.

- I hope he can explain that.
- Yes.

Only recently, when he was in
the County Hospital for observation...

he not only refused to be examined by
these gentlemen-- state psychiatrists--

but he actually made
a violent attack upon them.

In these times, with the country
incapacitated by economic ailments...

and in danger with an undercurrent
of social unrest...

the promulgation of such a weird,
fantastic and impractical plan--

as contemplated by the defendant--
is capable of fomenting a disturbance...

from which the country
may not soon recover.

It is our duty to stop it.

Our government
is fully aware of its difficulties.

It can pull itself out
of its economic rut...

without the assistance of Mr. Deeds
or any other crackpot.

His attempted action
must therefore be attributed...

to a diseased mind, afflicted
with hallucinations of grandeur...

and obsessed with an insane desire
to become a public benefactor.

Your Honor, we would like to call our
first witness, Louise "Babe" Bennett.

Miss Bennett, please.

Raise your right hand, please.

Do you swear to tell the truth and
nothing but the truth, so help you God?

- I do.
- State your right name.

- Louise Bennett.
- Take the stand.

Miss Bennett,
are you employed by the Morning Mail?

- I ask you direct your attention to me.
- Your Honor, this is ridiculous.

- Please answer the question.
- The whole hearing's ridiculous.

- That man's no more insane than you.
- Outrageous!

It's obviously a frame-up. They're
trying to railroad this man for money.

Young lady, another outburst like that,
and I shall hold you in contempt.

We are not interested in your opinion of
this case. You are to here to testify.

Sit down and answer questions.
Proceed.

Thank you, Your Honor.
Are you employed by the Morning Mail?

You're under oath, Miss Bennett. Again,
are you employed by the Morning Mail?

I resigned last week.

Prior to that time,
were you employed by the Morning Mail?

- Yes.
- Were you given an assignment...

to follow the activities
of Longfellow Deeds?

- Yes.
- Did you subsequently write about him?

- Yes.
- Are these the articles?

- Yes.
- Were you present?

- Yes.
- Are they true? They did take place?

- They're colored to make him look silly.
- You saw them happen?

- Yes, but--
- That's all.

It isn't all.
I'd like to explain.

- I submit these articles as evidence.
- Let go! What kind of hearing is this?

What are you trying to do?
Persecute the man?

He's not defending himself.
Somebody's got to do it.

- Please.
- I've got a right to be heard.

I've attended dozens of cases like this.
They're conducted without any formality.

Anybody can be heard. My opinion's
as good as these quack psychiatrists'.

I know him better than they do.

If you have quite finished,
I should like to inform you...

that one more utterance from you,
and I shall place you under arrest.

I'm willing to hear
anything anyone has to say...

but I insist on it being done
in an orderly fashion.

When you have learned to show some
respect for this court, you may return.

Until then, you'd better
go back to your seat and calm down.

This way, miss.

Order in the court.

Mr. Deeds, have you anything to say
in defense of these articles?

Mark these Exhibit "A"
for the plaintiff.

Yes, Your Honor.

Proceed.

They're rather timid, Your Honor,
and wish to be together.

If the court pleases,
I'll only have one testify.

- Yes. Get on with it.
- What is your name, please?

- Jane Faulkner. This is my sister Amy.
- Yes. Amy.

I'll direct my questions
to you, Miss Jane.

You may answer for both.
Do you know the defendant?

Yes. Of course we know him.

How long have you known him?

- Since he was born.
- Yes. Elsie Taggart was the midwife.

- He was a seven-months baby.
- Thank you. That's fine.

Do you see him very often?

- Most every day.
- Sometimes twice.

- Must we have the echo?
- Suppose you just answer, Miss Jane.

Will you tell the court what everybody
at home thinks of Longfellow Deeds?

- They think he's pixilated.
- Yes. Pixilated.

- He's what?
- What was that you said he was?

- Pixilated.
- That's rather a strange word to us.

- Can you tell the court what it means?
- Perhaps I can explain, Your Honor.

The word "pixilated"
is an early-American expression...

derived from the word "pixies,"
meaning "elves."

They'd say, "The pixies had got him,"
as we'd nowadays say a man is "balmy."

Is that correct?

Why does everyone think he's pixilated?
Does he do peculiar things?

He walks in the rain without his hat
and talks to himself.

- Sometimes he whistles.
- And sings.

Anything else?

- He gave Chuck Dillon a thumping.
- Blacked his eye.

- Why?
- For no reason, I guess.

He always does it. We run into the house
when we see him coming.

Never can tell
what he's going to do.

- He sure is pixilated.
- Yes. He's pixilated, all right.

Thank you, ladies.
That's all.

They kept hollering,
"Back to nature!"

I thought they looked harmless enough,
so I took them home.

I never thought
he was cracked.

I'm a waiter. He kept pressing me
to point out the celebrities.

I said, "Help me." I'm coming out of
the kitchen a couple of minutes later...

and there he is
mopping up the floors with them.

I never figured he was a guy
that was looking for trouble.

He threw us out bodily,
but bodily!

We was hired as his bodyguard, see?
The first crack out of the box...

he throws us in a room
and locks the door, see?

If a thing like that gets around
in our profession, we get the bird, see?

So I says to my partner,
"Let's quit this guy. He's nuts!"

I'm very fond of Clarissa.
She's a nice horse.

And when this bloke here
started feeding her donuts...

I yelled down to him,
"Mind what you're doing down there."

I wouldn't mind, sir, but Clara
won't eat nothin' but donuts now.

And now, if the court pleases,
I shall call upon Dr. Emil Von Hallor...

if he'll be good enough
to give us his opinion.

Dr. Von Hallor
is the eminent Austrian psychiatrist...

probably the greatest authority
on the subject in the world.

At present, he's in this country
on a lecture tour...

and has graciously
volunteered his services.

Do you swear the testimony you give
in the cause now before this court...

shall be the truth, the whole truth
and nothing but the truth?

- State your right name, please.
- Emil Von Hallor.

Take the stand.

Dr. Von Hallor, would you tell the court
what your opinion is of this case?

This is purely a case
of manic depression.

A case of this kind,
patients sometimes go on for years...

before being detected.

You remember, Dr. Fosdick,
in my last book...

there were some very fine examples,
especially the young nobleman.

- You remember?
- Yes, Dr. Von Hallor. Very interesting.

It reminds me very much of this one.

It takes so long to detect them...

because their mood
changes so often and so quickly.

Now, Your Honor, may I show you?
May I use the chart?

By all means.

Below here,
they are extremely depressed...

melancholy, impossible to live with
and often become violent.

From this mood...

the manic depressive
might gradually change...

until they reach this state.

Here is lucidity. Here they are
normal, as normal as you or I.

Assuming, of course,
that we are normal.

Then the mood changes again...

until they reach this state...

a state of highest exultation.

Here, everything is fine.
Here, the world is beautiful.

Here, they are so elated--
How to express it?

They would give you
the shirts off their backs.

How would you say
that applied to Mr. Deeds' case?

The symptoms are obvious.

When he was here,
on top of the wave...

he felt nothing but kindliness
and warmth for his fellow man.

He wanted to have them around him,
so he decided to give a big reception.

But in the meantime,
his mood has changed.

He's now at the bottom of the wave:
depressed, melancholy.

So when his guests arrive,
he throws them out.

They are now
his imaginary enemies.

Other instances
of high elations are...

when he plays his tuba,
when he writes his poetry...

when he chases fire engines
in a desire to help humanity.

This is contrasted
with his present mood...

which is so low that even the instinct
for self-preservation is lacking.

Your Honor, this is decidedly
a case of manic depression.

Thank you very much, Doctor.

Your Honor, we rest.

What are you going to do,
let them get away with it?

They've got you cooked.

He's sunk.

Before the court arrives at a decision,
isn't there anything you wish to say?

Come on. Don't be a sap.

- You both concur?
- Absolutely.

All right.

In view of the extensive testimony,
your continued silence...

and on the recommendation
of the doctors...

the court considers it advisable,
for your own safety...

that you be committed
to an institution...

as prescribed by law.

You need medical attention,
Mr. Deeds.

Perhaps in a little while--

Wait a minute. You can't do it.
You've got to make him talk.

- Your Honor, I object.
- Please. I know how horrible I've been.

No matter what happens-- if you
never see me again-- do this for me.

- Please.
- You said I could speak.

You said I could have my say
if I were rational. I'm rational.

Please let me
take the witness chair.

He must be made to defend himself
before you arrive at a decision.

- Take the stand.
- Thank you.

Your Honor, what she is saying
has no bearing on the case. I object.

- Let her speak.
- I know why he won't defend himself.

That has a bearing on the case,
hasn't it? He's been hurt.

He's been hurt by everybody he's met
since he came here, principally by me.

He's been the victim
of every conniving crook in town.

The newspapers pounced on him, made him
a target for their feeble humor.

I was smarter than the rest of them.
I got closer so I could laugh louder.

Why shouldn't he keep quiet?
Every time he said anything...

it was twisted around
to sound imbecilic.

He can thank me for it.
I handed the gang a grand laugh.

It's a fitting climax
to my sense of humor.

- Your Honor, this is preposterous.
- Certainly I wrote those articles.

I was going to get a raise,
a month's vacation.

But I stopped writing them when
I found out what he was all about...

when I realized how real he was.

He could never fit in
with our distorted viewpoint...

because he's honest
and sincere and good.

If that man's crazy...

the rest of us
belong in straitjackets!

This is absurd.
The woman's obviously in love with him.

- What's that got to do with it?
- You are in love with him, aren't you?

- What's that got to do with it?
- You are, aren't you?

- Yes!
- Her testimony's of no value.

Why shouldn't she defend him?
It's typical of American womanhood.

Protect the weak.

I'm not saying nobody likes the boy.
I have a fond affection for him myself.

- But that doesn't mean to say--
- I can verify what Miss Bennett said.

I'm her editor. When she quit, she told
me what a swell fellow this man was...

and anything Babe Bennett says
is okay with me.

If you have anything to say,
you will take the stand.

I've already said it, Your Honor. I just
thought I'd like to get my two cents in.

Don't be a sucker, pal.
Stand up and speak your piece.

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

I've been with this man
ever since he came to New York.

Sit down! There will be
no further interruptions.

- How about us, Mr. Deeds?
- Yes, what about us, Mr. Deeds?

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

They're trying to frame you.

- Stop this.
- Order!

Order.

In the interest of Mr. Deeds, I have
tolerated a great deal of informality.

But if there is one more outburst,
I shall have the courtroom cleared.

- Your Honor?
- Yes?

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

Take the stand.

Proceed.

I don't know where to begin. There have
been so many things said about me that--

About my playing the tuba. It seems like
a lot of fuss has been made about that.

If a man's crazy
just because he plays the tuba...

then somebody'd
better look into it...

because there are a lot of tuba players
running around loose.

I don't see any harm in it. I play mine
whenever I want to concentrate.

That may sound funny
to some people...

but everybody does something silly
when they're thinking.

For instance,
the judge here...

is an "O" filler.

- A what?
- An "O" filler.

You fill in all the spaces in the O's
with your pencil. I was watching.

That may make you
look a little crazy, Your Honor...

just sitting around,
filling in O's...

but I don't see anything wrong,
'cause that helps you think.

- Other people are doodlers.
- Doodlers?

Yeah, that's a name
we made up back home...

for people who make foolish designs
on paper when they're thinking.

It's called doodling.
Almost everybody's a doodler.

Did you ever see a scratch pad
in a telephone booth?

People draw the most idiotic pictures
when they're thinking.

Dr. Von Hallor here could probably
think up a long name for it...

because he doodles all the time.

Thank you.

This is a piece of paper
he was scribbling on.

I can't figure it out.
One minute it looks like a chimpanzee.

The next minute it looks like a picture
of Mr. Cedar. You look at it.

Exhibit "A" for the defense.

Looks kind of stupid, doesn't it?
But I guess that's all right.

If Dr. Von Hallor has to doodle
to help him think...

that's his business.

Everybody does something different.
Some people are ear pullers.

Some are nail biters.

That Mr. Semple over there...

is a nose twitcher.

The lady next to him
is a knuckle cracker.

So you see, everybody does silly things
to help them think.

Well, I play the tuba.

- Nice work, toots!
- Order in this court!

This is becoming farcical.
I demand Mr. Deeds...

dispense with side remarks
and confine himself to facts.

Let him explain his wanderings
around the street in his underclothes...

his feeding donuts to horses.

Please. Proceed.

Mr. Cedar's right. Those things
do look kind of bad, don't they?

But to tell you the truth,
Your Honor, I don't remember them.

I guess they happened,
because I don't think a policeman...

would lie about a thing like that,
but I was drunk.

It was the first time I was ever drunk.
It's probably happened to you some time.

I mean,
when you were younger, of course.

It's likely
to happen to anybody.

Just the other morning, I read in
the paper about Mr. Cedar's own son...

how he got drunk and insisted on driving
a taxicab while the driver sat inside.

Isn't that so?

- Your Honor, I object.
- Proceed.

Now, about the Faulkner sisters.

That's funny, Mr. Cedar going to
Mandrake Falls to bring them here.

- Do you mind if I talk to them?
- Not at all.

Who owns the house
you live in?

- Why, you own it, Longfellow.
- Yes, you own it.

- Do you pay any rent?
- No, we don't pay any rent.

Good heavens, no.

- We never pay rent.
- Are you happy there?

- Oh, yes.
- Yes, indeed.

Now, Jane, a little while ago
you said I was pixilated.

Do you still think so?

Why, you've always been pixilated,
Longfellow.

- Always.
- That's fine.

I guess maybe I am.

Now, tell me something, Jane.
Who else in Mandrake Falls is pixilated?

Why, everybody in Mandrake Falls
is pixilated, except us.

Now, just one more question.

You see the judge here.
He's a nice man, isn't he?

- Do you think he's pixilated?
- Yes.

Yes, indeed.

You haven't yet touched
upon the most important point:

this rather fantastic idea of yours
to give away your entire fortune.

It is, to say the least,
most uncommon.

Yes. Yes, I was getting to that,
Your Honor.

Suppose you were living in a small town
and getting along fine...

and suddenly somebody
dropped $20 million in your lap.

Supposing you discover all that money
was messing up your life...

was bringing vultures around your neck
and making you lose faith in everybody.

You'd be worried, wouldn't you?

You'd feel that you had a hot potato
in your hand, and you'd want to drop it.

I guess Dr. Von Hallor here would say
you were riding on those bottom waves...

because you wanted to drop something
that was burning your fingers.

If this man is permitted to carry out
his plan, repercussions will be felt...

that will rock the foundation
of our entire governmental systems.

Please, Mr. Cedar.
Proceed.

Personally, I don't know
what Mr. Cedar is raving about.

From what I can see, no matter
what system of government we have...

there'll always be leaders
and always be followers.

It's like the road out in front
of my house. It's on a steep hill.

Every day,
I watch the cars climbing up.

Some go lickety-split up that hill
on high; some have to shift into second.

Some sputter and shake
and slip back to the bottom again.

Same cars, same gasoline,
yet some make it and some don't.

I say the fellows who can make the hill
should stop and help those who can't.

That's all I'm trying to do: help
fellows who can't make the hill on high.

What does Mr. Cedar
expect me to do with it?

Give it to him and a lot of other people
who don't need it?

If you don't mind, Your Honor, I'll
ride on those top waves for a minute.

All you fellows up there, all those
who applied for a farm, stand up.

See all those fellows?
They're the ones I'm trying to help.

They need it. Mr. Cedar and Mr. Semple
don't need anything. They've got plenty.

It's like I'm out in a big boat,
and I see one fellow in a rowboat...

who's tired of rowing and wants
a free ride and another who's drowning.

Who would you expect me to rescue?
Mr. Cedar, who wants a free ride?

Or those men out there
who are drowning?

Any ten-year-old child will give you
the answer to that. Thank you. Sit down.

Now, my plan was very simple.

I was gonna give each family 10 acres,
a horse, a cow and some seed...

and if they worked the farm
for three years, it's theirs.

Now, if that's crazy, maybe
I ought to be sent to an institution...

but I don't think it is,
and Mr. Cedar doesn't either.

Before the hearing, he offered to call
everything off if I made a settlement.

So you see, he wouldn't think
I was crazy if he got paid off.

It's a lie growing
in his warped imagination.

I never heard anything
so colossally stupid in my life.

It's an insult to our intelligence to
sit and listen to such childish ravings.

- You will permit Mr. Deeds to finish.
- But, Your Honor--

- Anything else, Mr. Deeds?
- No.

Yes. There is one more thing I'd like
to get off my chest before I finish.

- Proceed.
- Thank you, Your Honor.

Order! Order this man
back to his chair!

Order!

Remain seated and come to order.
The court is again in session.

Before the court
announces its decision...

I want to warn all who are here
that the police have orders...

to arrest
anyone creating a disturbance.

Mr. Deeds, there has been a great deal
of damaging testimony against you.

Your behavior,
to say the least, has been...

most strange.

But in the opinion of the court,
you are not only sane...

but you are the sanest man
that ever walked into this courtroom.

Case dismissed.

You nose twitcher.

I knew it. You--

- He's still pixilated.
- He sure is.