Leave It to Beaver (1957–1963): Season 2, Episode 1 - Beaver's Poem - full transcript

[Announcer] Leave It To Beaver.

Starring Barbara Billingsley,

Hugh Beaumont,

Tony Dow...

and Jerry Mathers...

as the Beaver.

Thank you, dear, for
helping me with the dishes.

Well, we're going to the movies.

After all, many
hands make light work.

So would a dishwasher.

Dear, if I gave you a dishwasher now,
what would I give you for Christmas?



I'd think of something.

[Chuckles] I'd better
go up and get ready.

[Groans]

Ward, you're not too
tired to go, are you?

Oh, I'm a little beat, but, uh, do me
good to get out of the house for a while.

Think the boys will be all right?
Oh, Wally will have too much to do...

doing homework and watching
the Beaver to get into trouble.

I'll get ready.

Pow! Bang!

Pow! Bang!

Pow! Bang!

Hey, Beaver, what do
you think you're doing?

I'm shooting bullets, and
they're ricocheting. Pow! Bang!

Will you cut it out? I'm
trying to do my homework.



If you want to shoot bullets,
go shoot them in the bathroom.

No. I think I'll do
my homework too.

Can I borrow a
piece of your paper?

Why don't you use
your own school paper?

I'm saving it for airplanes.

What kind of homework
you doing, Wally?

Algebra.

What's algebra?

Well, it's kind of like arithmetic, only
you try to find out what "X" and "Y" are.

What are they? I don't
know. I just started it this year.

Would you get your
face out of my homework?

That's okay. I'm gonna go
ask Dad to help me with mine.

Oh. Hey, Beave?

Yeah? Would you close the door?

I don't want to hear it
when he starts yelling at you.

Oh, sure, Wally.

[Footsteps]

Ah. You all ready, dear?

Huh? Oh. I thought
it was your mother.

No. It's me.

[Clears Throat]

Could you help me, Dad?

I got to write a
poem for school.

Oh, not tonight, Beaver. I had
a very hard day at the office.

And anyway, your mother
and I are going to the show.

Uh, June?

[Murmurs, Sighs]

When's the poem due? Tomorrow.

Tomorrow? A poem?

Oh, Beaver, I don't know.

Miss Landers is going to be mad at me if I
don't bring it. It's for the school paper.

When did she first
ask you to do this?

Mmm, just about three weeks ago.

Three weeks ago? Well, then why
are you coming to me with it tonight?

'Cause it's due tomorrow.

How long a poem?

Mmm, just about that long.

That's all the space
they give the third grade.

[Sighs] All right, Beaver.

If it's due tomorrow, I guess
I can get you started on it.

[Sighs]

We're not allowed to
use an ink pen, Dad.

All right, where's your pencil?
I had one, but I left it at school.

Uh, well, then go upstairs
and borrow one from Wally.

Okay, Dad.

Hi, Mom. Hi, Beaver.

Well, I'm all set.
The movies. Hmm?

Oh, uh, it'll be a
little while, dear.

I have to help
Beaver with a poem.

A poem? How long a poem?

Oh.

Going somewhere,
Mom? Not tonight.

Here's a pencil, Dad.

Wally was using
all the good ones.

All right. Pull up
something to sit on.

What's your subject?

Huh?

Uh, Beaver, you
have to have a subject.

Didn't Miss Landers
tell you that?

No. She just told
me to have a poem.

Well, you have to write about
something, Beaver. Uh—[Clears Throat]

Now, some poets have
written about flowers,

and others about, uh—uh,
lakes and birds and trees.

Oh.

I'd like to write
about, mmm, bears.

Bears. All right. Fine.

"The... Bear."

Here you are. All right,
now, you go ahead with it,

and if you get
stuck, I'll help you.

Dad? What?

I'm stuck.

All right. Here.

[Clears Throat]
Now, let me see. Uh...

I would like... to be a bear.

Would you, Dad?

Beaver, that's the
first line of the poem.

Now, you write the second one,
and it has to rhyme with "bear."

Dad? Yeah?

I got an itch in my throat.
Can I go get a drink of water?

I suppose so.

♪♪ [Humming]

Uh, June, I'm sorry, dear,
but we're working in here.

Oh. I'm just gonna read
the paper. I won't say a word.

♪♪ [Humming]

Uh, June, I'm sorry, dear,

but we're trying to write a
poem, and it does require...

a certain amount of
concentration, and I am rather tired.

Oh.

Well— Don't you worry about me.

I'll go upstairs and read
in the closet or something.

Thank you. And, Ward?

Don't write it for him.

June, I'm—I'm not going to write it
for him. I'm just trying to help him.

♪♪ [Humming]

"I would like to be a bear."

Something, something,
"everywhere."

[Murmurs]

Here, Dad. I brought
you a glass of water too.

[Sighs]

Thank you, Beaver.

Well, then— We've got
to buckle down here.

Hi, Wally. Oh, hi, Mom.

Uh, I'll pick up
my clothes later.

Oh. I just came in
here to read the paper.

Uh—Well, gee, Mom,
I'm doing my homework.

Oh! Well, maybe I can help you.

Uh, well, this is real
tough. It's high school stuff.

You know, X's and Y's.

Oh.

Well, I'll read the
paper in our room.

Your father's downstairs
helping the Beaver with a poem.

Yeah. Has Dad yelled
at the Beaver yet?

Wally! Your father
is helping him.

Well, he wouldn't yell at him.

Oh. Sure, Mom.

[Ward, Shouting] Beaver, we're not gonna
get anywhere unless you pay attention.

Now, Beaver, I want you to
sit there and concentrate...

until you think of a word
that rhymes with "bear."

This is perfectly ridiculous, expecting
me to do your homework for you.

You put things off until the last
minute, and then you don't even try.

- Well, do you have a word?
- I don't have anything.

- Well, what's the matter with you?
- I can't think if you're yelling at me.

I'm not yelling at you!
I—I'm just telling you to think.

[June] Ward? What?

Will you please stop
yelling at the Beaver?

Wally's trying to
do his homework.

You see? Even Mom
says you're yelling at me.

All right.

All right, Beaver. [Chuckles]

I guess I did sort
of lose my patience.

Now then, let's both
calm down here...

and begin to concentrate
on getting this thing done.

I can't.

I don't feel good. Where
don't you feel well?

Well, my stomach
kind of hurts...

and my head
feels like it's tired.

Well, I'll tell you what, Beaver.
I think we're both a little tired.

Why don't we just put
this away for tonight, huh?

But I got to have it by the
morning. Miss Landers said so.

Oh, now don't you
worry about that.

We'll get up and do it before
breakfast. Have it done in no time.

Okay, Dad.

Beaver.

Uh, when you first knew
about this three weeks ago,

why didn't you write it then?

Well, gee, Dad, I was
afraid, if I did it early,

I might lose it before
the time "come."

Oh, I see.

Well, good night, Beaver.

Good night, Dad.

[Sighs] "I would
like to be a bear."

[Chuckles]

Gay and happy. Gay and happy.

Gay and happy, free from care.

Good morning, Dad. Morning.

Where's the Beaver? Oh,
he's in the living room...

recopying his poem.

Recopying it? Then
you did write it for him.

Well, it was his basic idea.
I just embellished it a little.

Then why is he copying it?

Well, you know how it is in
school, dear. Uh, neatness counts.

Sure. Like a composition
for Mr. Bloomgarden.

If he can read it, he gives
you 50% right off the bat.

I finished my poem, Dad.
Wanna check it? Mm-hmm.

Hey, Beaver, let's
hear the poem.

Oh, uh, say, if you
fellows are gonna get to

school on time, you
better finish your breakfast.

I'll tell you what. I'll just put
this over here with your books.

I'd like to hear what the Beaver
wrote too. And they have plenty of time.

Go ahead, dear. Sure, Mom.

[Clears Throat]

"The Bear," by Theodore
Cleaver, third grade.

"I would like to be a bear,

"gay and happy, free from care.

That's a life like no other,
climbing trees with my mother."

"Climbing trees with my mother"?
Golly, Beaver, that's pretty corny.

There's some more. You
want to hear the other hunk?

Well, I've, uh, got
to get to the office.

You boys finish your breakfast.

Excuse me, boys.

Wally, you really
think this is corny?

Well, I guess not
for the third grade.

Ward, you wrote that poem
for the Beaver, didn't you?

Now, June, it's just a
little third grade poem.

There's nothing wrong with a parent
helping his child with his schoolwork.

Anyway, Beaver thinks
he wrote it himself.

Well, I hope it'll be all right.

[Laughing]

Oh, Ward. "Climbing
trees with my mother"?

[Laughing]

Good-bye, dear. Good-bye, honey.

Hi. Hi, Mom.

Aren't you home a little early?

I ran.

Are you hungry, Wally? No. Why?

Just wondered.

What happened in school today?

Oh, nothing much. Dorothea
Dunlap fainted in the cafeteria...

right at the same table
with me and Eddie Haskell.

They took her to infirmary. That's
a shame. What did you boys do?

Eddie ate her ice cream.

Oh. You and Dad are supposed to go
down to Beaver's school Monday night.

What's going on? Oh,
they're having a thing.

Dancin' and recitin'
and junk like that.

Me and some of the other high
school guys are going over to help out.

You're going to be in the
grammar school program?

Well, not exactly.

Me and Chester move furniture
around when the curtain's down.

I think Beaver's in it though.

The Beaver?

Yeah. He's gonna read
that poem he wrote last night.

They're giving him
a prize or something.

His poem won a prize?

Yeah. They had
a rehearsal today.

I still think it's corny, but you never
can tell what those teachers will go for.

Well, I think this is gonna come
as rather a surprise to your father.

Are you trying to get
my attention, dear?

Yes, I am. Oh,
dinner's ready, huh?

Ward, didn't you talk
to the Beaver yet?

Uh, no, I haven't.
Uh— But I will.

Ward, look. There's no sense in putting
this off. You've got to talk to him.

Why, we just can't let him get up
in assembly and read that poem,

accept a prize for
something he didn't do.

No, I guess we can't.

Where is he now? He's up in
his room with Larry Mondello.

- I think they're trading marbles.
- Oh.

Well, I can talk to
him after supper.

Ward, Larry will be going soon.

Now, why don't you go on
up there and get it over with?

I'll go up in a
little bit, dear.

Hey, Beaver, why don't
you trade me for this realie?

How about these three immies?

Nah. I think I'll
keep my realie.

I think I'll keep my immies.

Hey, Beaver, you're gonna
read your poem in assembly, huh?

I'm gonna get a prize.

Hey, that's pretty neat.

I got a prize once
in dancing school.

For dancing?

Nah, for being the only kid
who came to every lesson.

Oh.

Hey, Larry, what will you
give me for these two glassies?

[Marbles Clicking]

How about these two peeries?

No. I think I'll
keep my glassies.

Yeah. I think I'll
keep my peeries.

You want to trade any more?

No. Me neither.

This was fun trading
marbles. Yeah.

I better get home now.

I don't want to be late for supper,
have my father holler at me.

Oh, hello, Larry. Hello,
Mr. Cleaver. I was just going.

Well, say hello to
your father for me.

I will—if he's not
hollering at me.

Oh. Fine.

Uh, Larry, uh, would you mind
closing the door on the way out?

- Close it?
- Yeah.

So long, Beaver.

[Sighs] Supper ready, Dad?

Yeah, in a few minutes. Um— I want
to talk to you about something, Beaver.

- Sit down.
- I am sitting down.

- Well, get up and sit down.
- Oh.

Oh, hi, Mom.

Uh, hi, Wally. Dinner
will be ready soon.

Boy, it sure smells
good in here. Thank you.

Where's Dad? He's
upstairs talking to the Beaver.

Is he gonna want
to talk to me too?

I don't think so, Wally.

Oh, that's good.

Aah!

He's talking to the Beaver
about that poem he wrote.

Or didn't write.

Is something wrong
with the poem, Mom?

No, except the Beaver didn't
write it. Your father wrote it.

And we can't let the
Beaver take the prize.

Well, gee, Miss Landers or
Miss Rayburn don't know that.

Wally, we can't let your brother
take credit for something he didn't do.

Yeah, I guess you can't— if you
want to be honest. That's just the point.

But, gee, Dad, I really
did write the poem.

No, Beaver, you just copied
it. You didn't really write it.

Yes, I did. I wrote it,
and I put my name on it,

and it's gonna be
in the school paper.

And I'm gonna get a prize
in assembly and everything.

Beaver, you didn't really
make up the poem. I did.

But I was the one who
thunk up about being a bear.

Well, I'm afraid that's
about all you thunk up.

You went up to bed.
I wrote the poem.

But you told me to go to bed!

[Sighs]

Does this mean I'm
not gonna get the prize?

Beaver, if we let people think you
wrote the poem, we'll be dishonest.

Don't you understand?

Yeah.

I guess I did something bad,

but I sure don't know what.

All's I did was go to
bed when you told me to.

Well, anyway, we have to let Miss
Landers know you didn't write it.

I don't want anybody
to know that, Dad.

Well, what do you suggest we do?

I just won't go to school.

Are you trying to tell me you
don't want to go to school Monday?

- You want to miss assembly?
- No.

I just won't go to
school— Never again.

Oh, now, Beaver.

I'm not gonna go to school
and have the kids laugh at me...

and Miss Landers think
I did something bad.

I'm not gonna. Beaver!

Mom says supper's ready.

Yeah, well, thanks, Wally.

Where's Beaver?

Uh, he's a little upset.

You mean he's not gonna get
to read his poem in assembly?

No, I'm afraid not, Wally.

Well, gee, he
shouldn't get too upset.

The kids will stop razzing
him in a week or so.

Thank you, Wally.

Hey, Beave, come on out.

Is Dad out there?

No, he went downstairs.

Okay then.

[Sniffles] Hey, Beave,
you were crying.

- Did Dad hit you?
- No.

Well, did he yell at you?

No, he didn't yell at me.

Well, golly then. What
are you crying for?

Sometimes things get so messed
up, there's nothing else you can do.

Yeah.

Thanks, Wally. [Blows Nose]

Mom, you usually don't help
us make our beds on Saturday.

Is company coming or something?

No, Wally. I wanted to talk to
the Beaver about your father.

Oh. Your father went
down to your school today.

He went to school?
On a Saturday?

He made a special appointment with
Mrs. Rayburn to explain about your poem.

He's gonna talk to Mrs. Rayburn?

He's gonna get me
in all kinds of trouble.

No, he isn't, Beaver. He's
going to straighten it out.

You'll see. Well, gee, Mom.

Dad shouldn't have written the
poem for Beaver in the first place.

Oh, now that's just the
point I wanted to make.

If Beaver had written it
when he first knew about it,

none of this would
have happened.

Why, your father did what
lots of fathers would have done.

They love their children so much
that, well, they help them too much.

Mom? What, Beaver?

I guess Dad wasn't really
trying to get me in trouble.

"I would like to a bear, gay
and happy, free from care.

"That's the life like no other,

"climbing trees...

Climbing trees with my mother."

I purposely wrote that to try and
make it sound like an eight-year-old.

[Chuckles] I see.

"Though they call me
'beast' with dreadful rage,

"I've never locked
things in a cage...

"or a set a trap
since times begun...

or shot at humans with a gun."

[Chuckles]

Rather well
thought-out, isn't it?

Well, actually, uh...

And this is no excuse for me...

But actually, I tried to put down the
way I know Beaver feels about animals.

I mean, the sort of thing
he might have said...

if he'd been able to stay
awake the other night.

- Mr. Cleaver, I think
I have the solution.
- What is it?

Suppose we let Theodore write his
own poem between now and Monday.

Mrs. Rayburn, I think
it's very nice of you...

to give, uh, both of
us another chance.

And I think it'll be very interesting to
see what Beaver comes up with on his own.

Also, I'm extremely sorry for having caused
all this trouble trying to help Beaver.

Well, maybe you
over-helped him, Mr. Cleaver,

but I'm afraid a great many of our
parents don't even bother to help at all.

Now, Wally, when you
come home from school today,

before we go to parents night, I want you
to take a bath and put on your blue suit.

I want you to look
decent tonight.

Well, gee, Mom, I'm
just gonna be moving

furniture backstage. I
don't have to look decent.

- Uh, you put on
your blue suit anyway.
- Yes, sir.

- Where's your brother?
- I think he's copying
the poem he wrote yesterday.

Wally, you didn't try to help
him write it or anything, did you?

Oh, no. Well, he asked
me how to spell "mostly,"

but I told him to
look it up himself.

Ah. Good idea.

Is it L-Y or L-E-Y?

Uh, look it up.

Well, Beaver, did you
get your poem all finished?

Sure, Mom. You
think we could hear it?

I guess so.

[Clears Throat]

"The Duck," by Theodore
Cleaver, third grade.

"'Onced' I wished I was a duck,

"'cause mostly ducks
have lots of luck.

"They swim around
all day in a pool...

and mostly never
have to go to school."

Hey, that's not bad, Beave.

"Then I saw a duck
hanging in the butcher store,

and I didn't want to
be a duck no more."

Beaver, I think
that's very, very cute.

Hey, Beave, you still think
you'll get a prize for that?

Sure, Wally.

I'm the only kid in the third
grade that wrote a poem.