Leave It to Beaver (1957–1963): Season 4, Episode 13 - Beaver's Accordion - full transcript

Starring...

and...

Oh, here, here, let
me take that, dear.

Oh, thank you, dear.

I was cleaning out
the hall closet upstairs.

Hmph.

Honey?

Hm?

Where in the world
did we ever get this?

I think Beaver wore that home

from Angela Valentine's birthday
party when he was about 7.



Oh, that's right.

Someone pushed
him in the fish pond,

and Mrs. Valentine had
to send him home in this

and a pair of pedal pushers.

Honey, is this one of your hats?

Mm, let's see.

Why are you laughing?

To keep from crying.

All right.

I guess I'd better
get going if, uh,

Wally and I are going to get that
patio furniture painted this morning.

Nothing much in there.

Oh, I don't know.

Here's a letter from
a mortgage company.



They'd like to know if
we could use $30,000.

I wonder what would
happen if we said yes.

Well, they'd probably send a
man out to measure our house

and then offer to
lend us about 5,000.

Wow, what's this
impressive-looking envelope?

"Dear Sir, the Worldwide
Academy of Music

"is happy to inform you that
your son, Theodore Cleaver,

"has been chosen as
one of the few in your area

to receive the advantages
of our amazing free offer."

How much is the
free offer this time?

"Return the
enclosed certificate,

"and we will send you our
$280 stereophonic accordion

"for a five-day free trial.

"An accordion band is
being formed in your locality,

"and we're sure you'll
want your child to participate

in this cultural undertaking."

Huh, gee.

You know, I can remember

when, uh, you used to get letters
in the mail from people you knew.

Well... Oh, here, I'll go.

I'll get rid of that for you.

Oh, all right, dear.

Hey, Dad, how come
we had to wash down

and sand all the furniture
before we could paint it?

Well, because by
doing it that way,

the paint job will last
two or three years.

Well, yeah, but what happens

if mom gets tired of
the color in a year?

Then all the work
is gone for the birds.

Well, I'll tell you,
son, in marriage,

you learn to take a
few calculated risks.

Boy, you're painting!
Give me a brush.

Ah, cut it out, Beaver.

I already made a deal with Dad.

Oh.

That's right, Beav.

I'm afraid this
is a two-man job.

Don't you have any
one-man jobs I can do?

You can get lost.
That's what you can do.

Never mind, Wally.

Well, how are you doing?

Oh, we're coming
along pretty well.

How do you like the color?

Looks fine.

Hope I don't get
tired of it in a year.

You see what I mean, Dad?

Hey, Mom, do you
have any jobs I can do?

Wally's already got dibs on Dad.

Well, now, let's see, Beaver.

I tell you, why don't you
empty the wastebaskets for me?

Will I get paid like Wally is?

Well, you empty all of them,
and you do a real neat job,

and I'll pay you a quarter.

Okay, Mom.

Just empty them in that big box

your father left in the hall!

Boy, oh, boy!

An accordion band
is being formed,

cultural undertaking,

don't deny your
child this opportunity!

Gee, Mom, I thought Beaver
was emptying the trash.

Yeah, so did I.

And he left it spread
out all over the hall.

Well, he's just a kid.

I guess he can't
help being a slob.

Why can't we go right
over to Mary Ellen's, Wally?

Look, I want to
take a shower first.

I don't want to go over
there smelling like paint.

Well, look, Sam, it never
slowed down Rembrandt.

Hi, kid.

Hi, Eddie.

What are you staring
at me for, Eddie?

I didn't know you
could read, kid.

I'm sort of thinking about
sending away for something.

Yeah?

What are you sort of
thinking of sending away for?

A free five-day trial

on a genuine, deluxe,
stereophonic accordion.

They sent this to you, huh?

Nah, they sent it to my
pop, but he threw it away.

Aw, that figures.

What do you mean, it figures?

I'll tell you what I mean.

You send for this
accordion, you practice,

and you get in this
accordion band.

Then one night, you're
on the Ed Sullivan Show,

and a talent scout spots you.

Next thing, you've
got your own band,

and you're a big celebrity.

Then what happens?

Gee, Eddie, what?

One night, your
father comes around,

tries to borrow a
couple of hundred bucks,

and you act like you
never saw him before.

Gee, Eddie, I wouldn't
do that to my dad.

Well, maybe not, but, uh, why should
he take the chance of it happening?

That's why he threw it away.

Do you really think I should
send for the accordion, Eddie?

Sure.

Sure, I can see you now...

Up there on the stage

with a spotlight shining
on your white velvet shirt.

Your mom is sitting there with
tears running down her face.

And your father is
there, eating his heart out.

'Cause you're making
five times as much as he is.

What more could a kid ask?

Gee, Eddie, do you really
think I could become a big star?

What are you talking about?

If it could happen to Fabian,
it could happen to anybody.

Hey, Eddie, get me a towel
out of the hall closet, will you?

Yeah, I guess so.

Hey, Beaver, what
was Eddie telling you?

Oh, he was just telling
me about grown-ups

and helped me make up
my mind about something.

What are you doing out here?

Well I'm looking at
the patio furniture.

Oh.

You know, dear, I
think it would look better

if we painted it green.

Dear, it was green.

I painted it gray just
last Saturday, remember?

I know, dear, but it doesn't
seem like ours anymore.

Well honey, we've seen it
through brown, green, and gray,

and believe me, it's ours.

Wally get home
from Metzger's Field?

Yes, he's upstairs.

And I called up to
Beaver a little while ago.

He's up there, too.

Sure must have come
in quiet. I didn't hear him.

Well, I guess he's old enough
not to make an announcement

every time he comes in.

Anyway, it makes
a boy feel grown up

to have a little
privacy now and then.

It's my new accordion.

Where'd you get it, Beaver?

Well, I sent away for it.

That's what I was asking
Eddie Haskell about.

I found a certificate
that Dad threw away,

and I get to keep it for
five whole days for nothing!

I don't suppose we
can invade their privacy

by asking them
what they're doing.

Oh, certainly not.

♪♪

Help me squeeze it
back together, Wally?

♪♪

What was that? It
sounded like a groan.

I don't know.

Sounds like the boys
have a harmonica.

Well, that's the strangest
harmonica I ever heard.

Beaver!

Uh-oh, Dad's calling you.

Yeah, let's get it
back in the box.

What is it, Dad?

What's that racket up there?

I think it's some
kind of a noise!

What kind of noise?

Well, uh, I don't know,
but whatever it is,

I think it's gonna stop now.

Well, see that it does!

Boy, Beaver, it says here
that this thing is worth $280.

Yeah, but I get to
keep it for five days.

Then I'll mail it back.

That's way next week.

Beaver, first of all, Dad's
liable to find this thing.

And second of all, you
don't have five days at all.

How come?

Look, it came to the
express office Friday.

That was yesterday.

Today is Saturday,
and tomorrow is Sunday,

and the express
office is closed.

You can't mail it back
until after school Monday,

and that's the fourth day.

Boy, that sure went
by in a hurry, didn't it?

Listen, Beaver, it says here
that if you don't send it back

within the five days,

you've got to pay them the $280.

Boy, I'd better mail it
back on Monday, all right.

Yeah, I'll say.

Boy, if Dad ever finds out
what you did, he'll clobber you.

And then if there's
anything left of you,

he'll clobber that.

She really said that, huh?

Aw, she didn't say it.

Look, I wouldn't even
believe she said it,

if she did say it.

Well, she might
have said it to him,

but she never said it to you.

You're just saying she said it.

Hey, look, I can't talk anymore.

My mom just came in.

Well, you don't have to stop
talking just because I came in.

Oh, sure, I know I
don't have to, Mom,

but, heck, no guy likes
to talk on the phone

when his Mom's watching him.

Well, I certainly wouldn't think
of listening to your conversation.

Oh, sure, Mom.

What did somebody say
that you didn't think they said?

Well, um, Eddie Haskell
said that Janet Gibbs

said that Alice Hartley said that
I had eyes like Robert Horton.

Oh.

Think she's right?

Heck Mom, I don't know.

Hey, uh, Mom, did Beaver
get home from school yet?

Yes, he came home
early with Whitey,

then they went off somewhere
with Whitey's wagon.

Why didn't they wait for me?

Wait for you to go where?

Oh, uh, well, uh,
wherever they were going.

Do you know where
they were going?

Well, heck, Mom,
how would I know?

They didn't wait
for me to tell me.

Wally, why can't you children ever
give your parents a straight answer?

Well, gee, Mom,
'cause we never know

what answer you're looking for.

Uh, would it be okay
if I used the phone,

or are you gonna be
hanging around here?

All right, Wally, I'll leave.

Are you shipping this
box someplace, boys?

Yes, Mister.

We'd like to send it
back where it came from.

Mm, well, it's not too
well wrapped, is it?

Yeah, but I'm not a
very good wrapper.

But he's a nice kid, Mister.

Well, I guess maybe I
can fix it up for you all right.

Well, if the box
makes any noise,

don't worry about it, Mister.

You don't have an
animal in here, do you?

Oh, no, sir. It's an accordion.

Yeah, that's not an
animal. It's an instrument.

Oh, I see.

Well, uh, do you
want it insured?

What's that?

Well, that means that if it's
lost or damaged in transit,

then the company pays
you whatever it's worth.

Hey, that'd be pretty neat.

We'd better have some of that.

How many packages get lost?

Practically none.

We'd better have some
anyway. We might be lucky.

Well, let's see now.

Hmm, that's 24 pounds
to Omaha, plus insurance.

Hmm, that's $7.62.

Wow, 7 whole dollars?

That's right.

How much would it be
without the insurance?

Uh, 6 and a quarter.

Uh, we'd better come
back later, Mister.

I don't have quite
that much money.

All right.

How much money
do you have, Beaver?

About 64 cents.

Maybe we could get
the man to just insure it,

and we could lose
it on the way home.

I don't think it works
that way, Whitey.

Uh, June, do we have any
birthdays or anniversaries coming up?

No, but it's all right

if you want to buy
me something anyway.

I wasn't thinking of that.

No, uh, Beaver just asked me

if I could advance him 7
dollars on his allowance.

Not gonna give a boy
his age 7 dollars, are you?

No, certainly not...

Not unless he has a
very good reason for it.

Did I ever tell you how hard
I had to work for 7 dollars

when I was a boy?

Many times.

Oh.

You know, Ward, today a
girl in Wally's school said

he had eyes like Robert Horton.

Well, when I was
about Wally's age,

a girl once told me I, uh,
looked just like Melvin Douglas.

Boy, Beaver, have you
ever goofed it up this time!

Don't yell at me anymore, Wally.

I feel sicker than I ever felt
before without being sick.

Okay, okay, so what
are you gonna do?

One of these days, the accordion
company's gonna come around

and start hollering
for their 280 bucks!

And then, pow, the roof's
gonna cave in on you.

Well, I thought I
could hide it someplace

'til I raise the seven dollars.

Well, I've already
got 64 cents saved up,

and I'm gonna sell my two
dead frogs to Whitey for 50 cents.

Well, I guess I've got a couple
of books I could let you have.

But, look, where are
you gonna stash it

where Mom and Dad
aren't gonna find it?

In the hall closet.

They don't use that anymore,

except for umbrellas and
old Christmas tree ornaments.

Yeah, that, that sounds
like a pretty good place.

Well, here, come on,
let me give you a hand.

- Ward?
- Hm?

Who was the girl that said
you looked like Melvyn Douglas?

Evelyn Bowdenhouse.

Evelyn Bowdenhouse?

Oh, honey, go on.
There was no such girl.

Well, sure there was.

She was the first girl in Shaker
Heights to wear goulashes

with white fur around them.

You did run with a
wild crowd, didn't you?

Do you think they'll
find it in there, Wally?

Nah, they never open
it. This is just for old junk.

Beaver, you forgot
to close the door!

Oh, yeah.

Beaver, was that you?

Uh, uh, no, Dad!

It was a door!

Ward, I'm glad you're home.

And why not?

I'm the only man on Maple Drive

with eyes like Melvyn Douglas.

Ward... What?

There's a gentleman
here to see you.

Oh.

Mr. Cleaver?

Will you excuse me?

Uh, yes, yes, of course.

My name is Franklin.
I'm the representative

of the Worldwide Music
Academy in Omaha, Nebraska.

Oh, well, that's fine,
but whatever it is,

I'm sure we're not interested.

But we are more than interested

in collecting the
$280 you owe us.

$280?

What for?

For the deluxe
stereophonic accordion

we sent you for your son.

Oh, no, Mr. Franklin.

I'm afraid you have
either the wrong house

or the wrong Cleaver.

I'm afraid not.

Three weeks ago,
we sent you a letter,

and you returned
the certificate,

taking advantage
of our free offer.

To date, we have received

neither the accordion
nor the money,

in accordance
with the agreement.

Well, I do remember some sort
of circular that came in the mail,

but I threw it in
the wastebasket.

Oh, dear, dear.

Well, uh, perhaps your
wife may have sent it in.

We find wives
sometimes do these things

behind their husband's backs.

Excuse me.

June!

June!

Uh, dear, would you
please tell this gentleman

that neither you nor I
ordered a $280 accordion?

An accordion?

That's the silliest
thing I ever heard!

Dear, dear, I want to finish
waxing the kitchen floor

before the boys come home.

Do you know where
the extension cord is?

Well, if you can't
find one in the kitchen,

there's one up in the hall
closet with the Christmas lights.

Excuse me.

Well, Mr. Franklin,
are you satisfied now?

I'm afraid I've been in the
business a little too long

to be satisfied
quite that easily.

Let me tell you something.

I didn't care much for the
sound of your company

from the circular they sent out,

and I can't say that talking to
you has improved my opinion any.

I should perhaps
point out that we, uh,

have the shipping notice

and the receipt from
the railway express.

Now, if you persist
in this attitude,

we'll simply have to turn the
matter over to our attorneys.

I'll be looking forward to
hearing from those gentlemen.

I don't know what your angle is,

but whatever it is,
it won't work here.

Oh!

Almost worked,
didn't it, Melvyn?

Mr. Franklin, I assure
you I had no idea

this thing was in the house.

I know.

We had a woman in Cleveland

who claimed a
strange dog ate hers.

Ward! It's an accordion!

We've already
identified it, dear.

Well, Mr. Franklin, would you
care to come in and sit down?

I should be delighted.

Well, Beaver, I guess this
is just about the worst thing

either of you fellas
ever did, isn't it?

Gee, Dad, I can't
think of anything worse.

Don't help me, Wally.

I just can't understand it!

To send for a $300
musical instrument

behind my back, and
say nothing about it!

Gee, Dad, I just wanted
a free trial for five days.

Eddie made it sound so
good about standing up

in a white velvet shirt
and making music.

And earning a
whole lot of money.

Look, son, if it were that easy,

and if I had thought
it was right for you,

I wouldn't have thrown the
letter away in the first place.

Eddie said you threw it away

on account of you
didn't want me to be

a big success and everything.

Beaver, do you realize
how silly that sounds?

Well, I do now, Mom.

Well, Beaver...

I hope that this
will help teach you

that no matter what happens,

your parents are at least
trying to do what's right.

Well, sure, Beav.

When they try
to do what's right,

they can't help it if
it comes out mean.

Are we gonna have to
buy the accordion, Dad?

No, Beaver, but
I told Mr. Franklin

we'd pay for the damages.

Well, I've got $4.16
saved up, upstairs.

We can put that towards
fixing the accordion,

if you want to.

I'm afraid that won't
cover it, Beaver.

Yeah, I guess accordions don't
bounce down stairs very cheap.

No, they don't.

This one bounced
down about $40 worth.

Wow!

I guess I'd better start saving
up my allowance, huh, Dad?

Yes, Beaver, I think you should.

Uh, could we be excused to go up

and get washed for
supper now, Dad?

Certainly.

Boy, Beaver, you'll
probably be a real old man

by the time you
get all that saved up.

Yeah, I know.

Beaver, uh, I'll
tell you what, son.

You save as much
money as you can,

and then if you can't
quite make it, uh,

well, maybe I could
help out a little bit.

Thanks, Dad.

Well, uh, you fellas
better go on up

and get washed up now.

Come on, Wally.

Ward?

Mm-hm?

What made you
offer to help him out?

Oh, I kept remembering
something that happened to me

when I was about his age.

I, uh, went to the
state fair, and, uh,

I bought a, oh, a kind of a tin
gadget that was sort of a whistle,

paid two dollars for it.

The fellow who demonstrated it

got all kinds of
sounds out of it:

bird calls, and violin,
and Hawaiian guitar.

I must have worked
on that thing for a week

before somebody finally told me

that it was just
a piece of junk,

and the fellow had
done the whole thing

with his vocal chords.

Hmph, my two dollars
was completely wasted.

Well, dear, I don't
think it was wasted at all.

Beaver!

What are you doing awake?

You were supposed
to be asleep long ago!

Well, I was just
thinking, Wally.

Thinking about what?

I was just wondering
what it'd be like learning

to play the accordion and
being on "The Ed Sullivan Show."

And playing music in a white
velvet shirt for the rest of my life.

Well, I'll tell you what
it would be like, Beaver.

If you were a musician, you'd
have to stay up late nights,

and, and play in nightclubs
that are all smoky,

with people yelling and
screaming, and laughing,

and throwing confetti and stuff.

Boy, Wally, wouldn't it be neat?

Aw, dry up and go
to sleep, will you?