My Three Sons (1960–1972): Season 1, Episode 8 - Chip's Harvest - full transcript

The Douglas's stove breaks down on Thanksgiving Day. There's no way to get it fixed that same day and every restaurant in town is booked. Meanwhile Chip befriends a Native American and invites him to dinner. He in turn shows how to roast a turkey outdoors without a grill.

(theme song plays)

"One for the blackbird,
one for the crow,

one for the cutworm
and one to grow."

BUB: Chip! Come
in, eat your breakfast!

I'm busy!

Well, get un-busy
and come in here.

Just a second, Bub.

"One for the blackbird,
one for the crow..."

"Three to make ready
and four to go." Now!

Okay, Bub. Just a second.

Do you want a turkey
dinner tomorrow?



Sure, but I'm busy!

Well, come in here
and eat your oatmeal!

♪ She's only a bird
in a gilded cage... ♪

Looks more like a turkey to me.

Turkey! Yeah.

Boy, it looks good.

Bring this list of stuff when
you come home from school.

Sage. Celery. Yeah.

Chestnuts.

Yeah. Sweet potatoes?

Yeah. Olives.

Mm-hmm. Cranberry sauce.

Yeah!

Boy, I'm gonna
stuff myself good.



That'll be unusual.

Ah! Good old day-before-
Thanksgiving oatmeal.

Finally decided who you're
gonna bring tomorrow?

Wait, don't tell me
who you're bringing.

Let me guess.

I got it! Good old
faithful, lovey-dovey,

girl next door, oozy-woozy,
cuddling-puddling...

When will I ever learn

not to ask my little
brother a simple question?

I'm bringing Miss Benson.

Is she pretty?

She's the best-looking
science teacher

in the whole school.

How many science teachers
have you got over there?

Just Miss Benson.

STEVE: Morning, Bub.

Morning.

Guess who I asked.

Looks like we're in
for a little rain today.

No, we aren't.

How do you know?

"If ice in November
will bear a duck,

nothing falls after
but sleet and muck."

Well. Longfellow?

Nope. Johnny Squanto.

Oh. Just a minute, you
missed a spot here. Hold still.

What have you been doing

out in the backyard
all the time, Chip?

Planting corn.

This time of year?

"When leaf of white oak
is size of ear of mouse."

"When leaf of white oak
is size of ear of mouse"?

John Milton?

John Squanto.

Oh. Okay, Chip, I give up.

Who's John Squanto?

Oh, he's some old guy...

He's my friend. You'll
meet him tomorrow.

Oh, I will?

He's my friend for
Thanksgiving dinner.

Chip, you're
kidding, aren't you?

Dad said we can invite

our favorite friend for
Thanksgiving dinner.

That's right.

Oh, no. Oh, no, you don't.

Dad, you can't let that
old creep eat with us.

Not on a big deal like
Thanksgiving. Oh, no.

Fine. How am I supposed
to tell Jean that she has

to come and eat at the same
table with old Squinteye?

Squanto, not Squinteye.

Oh, big chief's...

STEVE: Wait,
wait, wait a minute.

Rob? Mike?

Chip, just who is John Squanto?

He's an Indian.

He's an Indian
like I'm an Indian.

Dad, I went to a lot of
trouble to get Miss Benson

to come to dinner tomorrow.

She's real sharp and
polite, and everything

and, well, you just can't let
Chip bring that old phony here.

He isn't a phony.

Johnny's a real Indian.

MIKE: Real Indian.

He's a real liar,
that's what he is.

He is not! He's a
Sagamore chief!

ROBBIE: Ooga-booga, booga-booga.

Cut it out, Robbie!
MIKE: Dad, you oughtta

see the crummy
old shack he lives in.

Yeah, over by the county dump.

It's a nice house.

Have you been there, Chip?

Sure, lots of times.

MIKE: Well, that's
a bright thing to do.

BUB: Since when do
you waltz off by yourself

without letting me
know anything about it?

ROBBIE: Boy, what a dumbo.

You sure wouldn't catch me

anywhere near
that dirty old bum.

Johnny is not a bum!

He's a real Indian,

and he's better than
all of you put together!

And his great-great
grandfather way back

even helped the Pilgrims!

(door slams)

The old coot.

Trying to palm himself
off on us as an Indian.

Yeah, just because Chip
has a big thing about Indians.

You know, I don't think

I've ever had
Thanksgiving dinner

with a dirty, lying, old bum.

Well, he's really not dirty.

Oh, I'm glad to hear that.

He's, uh, just a liar
and a bum, huh?

Well, you know
what he means, Dad.

He's a, he's a tramp.

Hmm?

A... drifter.

Oh.

I thought you said
he had a house.

How could he, uh,
be a tramp and drift

if he lives in one spot?

Well, he's not a bum, exactly.

He's just sort of a loafer.

Oh, you, you mean he
doesn't like to work, huh?

No, he, he works,
but... He's got a job?

Well, he does odd jobs.

Changes sink
washers, cuts firewood.

Collects old newspapers,
mows the lawn.

Odd jobs, like that,
you know what I mean.

He, uh, sounds like a pretty
hard-working loafer, to me.

Too bad he's such an old liar.

Yeah. That's what I mean.

Once, when I was a
kid, he tried to tell me

he was from the Wampanoag tribe.

Yeah, how 'bout that?

There aren't even any
Wampanoags left, are there, Dad?

Oh, don't ask me, Mike.

I'm not an authority on Indians.

Well, I'm not either, but...

Look. Whether he's an
Indian or not, Chip thinks he is.

So, why don't we just go
along with that for a while, huh?

Well... sure.

After all, it is
Thanksgiving, isn't it?

Yeah.

Okay.

Well, we better
get going, Robbie.

Excuse me.

Bub, I may be a little
late for dinner tonight.

Yeah, why?

Well, I think I'll look
up this Mr. Squanto

and have a little talk with him.

Real Indian or not, I'm
not sure I like the idea

of Chip's going down
to his place alone.

Well, what about
dinner tomorrow?

What about it?

Well, you can just tell
him that Chip is a little boy,

and he... got
things all balled up.

Oh, you mean about
Chip's inviting him to dinner.

Yeah, I can do that.

We'll see.

(train whistle blows)

Mr. Squanto?

(train whistle blows)

Oh, are you, uh, Johnny Squanto?

Oh, I'm sorry. The door opened
when I knocked, and, uh...

Won't you come in?

I'm, uh, Steve Douglas.

I'm Chip's father.

Thanks.

Oh, no, thank you, uh, I
can just stay a few minutes.

They're waiting
dinner for me at home.

(train cars rattling)

Uh, Chip tells me that you
and he are good friends,

and that he, uh,
comes here to visit you.

Well, that's, uh,
that's what I wanted

to talk to you
about, Mister, uh...

Sit down, please.

That's what I wanted to talk
about, his coming down here.

It's pretty, uh,
difficult to keep tabs

on a little boy like Chip,

who's as active as he is,

and we, uh, do our best to
know where he is at all times,

but sometimes, he does
things we don't know about.

Like, well, like
his coming here.

I found out about
it this morning.

(distant train horn blares)

It's all right, his coming here.

It's just that, uh...

I have my own
tobacco, thank you.

Thank you.

It's just that he's
a little boy, and...

it's kind of far from our home.

Oh...

Chip tells me that,
uh... he invited you

for Thanksgiving dinner
at our house tomorrow.

I'm sorry about that, I...

I did tell him that
he could invite

one of his friends, but
of course, we thought...

Mr. Squanto...

the reason I came
here was to tell you that

we'll have dinner
about 1:00 tomorrow,

and we'd be very happy
to have you as our guest.

(train whistle blows)

ROBBIE: Hey, Dad!

(mutters)

Are you awake?

No.

Good! Hey! Happy turkey, Dad!

Happy turkey to
you, Rob. Good-bye.

Bub told me you were over
old Squanto's place last night.

You think he's a real Indian?

Well, uh... What's
his place look like?

Any clay pots or arrowheads?

No.

I didn't think he was
much of a real Indian.

Look, Robbie, it's,
it's kind of early.

Why, why don't we give him
the benefit of the doubt, huh?

Hey, Dad! Boy,
have we got trouble.

Well, that's par for the course.

Bub's in a real lather.

Situation normal.

Morning, Dad!

Oh, boy. (barking)

Bub said you went to
see Johnny last night.

Mm-hmm. Are you gonna
let him come to dinner?

Thing like that could cost

a couple of
hundred bucks to fix.

Yes, he's coming to
dinner. Oh, boy, Dad!

You're the greatest. I knew
you were gonna like Johnny.

Just a minute. Rob! Robbie,
Robbie. Just a minute.

What, Dad?
Nothing, just sit down.

And Governor Bradford is
gonna tell you all about the...

What's wrong with
it? Wait, just a minute.

What did you say, Rob? I mean...

I said, what's wrong
with it? No, I don't mean

what did you say? I mean,
what did you say, Mike?

The stove! Something's
wrong with the stove!

Well, what's wrong with it?

I don't know what's wrong
with it. It, it just won't work.

Oh. Well, we-we'll fix that.
Don't you worry about it.

I gotta get a little
more sleep, okay?

MIKE: Well, how are we
gonna cook the turkey?

That bird should have
been simmering by now.

MIKE: Say, maybe you
ought to check those coils,

or, or insulators, again.

I just did. I see.

Johnny Squanto could fix it.

The stove's okay.

It's just there's a foul-up on
the power line somewhere.

Well, the lights are still on.

It's the stove
outlet, the 220 line.

A regular electrician
could fix it just like that.

Okay, okay.

I see.

Okay, thanks very much.

Well, that's that.

BUB: Any luck, Steve?

Well, the power company only
has a skeleton crew on today

and can't promise
to send a man out

at any specific time, if at all.

Well, that fixes that.
We're gonna end up

with peanut butter and jelly.

Johnny Squanto could fix it.

Oh, let's not give up now.

Bub, what was the
name of that electrician

that fixed the washing
machine? You remember,

he told us he lived right
around here someplace?

Maybe we could get him over.

Yeah, what was his name?

I'll look it up.

Uh, Bub, why don't you
call some of the neighbors?

Maybe somebody has
an oven we can use.

Are you kidding? Every
oven in town is busy.

They're all baking
turkeys and pumpkin pie.

Except us. Yeah.

But it's worth a
try. Bub, go ahead.

All right.

We'll get this old bird
cooked one way or another.

Johnny Squanto could fix it.

ROBBIE: I get hungry
just looking at it.

Say, you know, Chuck Boone

has one of those,
uh, rotisserie things.

Oh, good, Mike. Why don't you
go see if you can borrow it, huh?

Yeah. Come on, Robbie.

Dad? Yeah?

Johnny Squanto could fix it.

Mm-hmm.

Should I go get him?

Yeah, f-fine, Chip.

Oh, boy!

Oh, here it is, Bub.
Crane. Harry Crane.

That was the fellow,
wasn't it? That's the guy.

Residence: Linden Street.
That's right over here.

What's his
number? I'll call him.

No, no. It's just a couple
of blocks from here.

I'll just go and get him
and haul him over here.

What if he isn't home?

Oh, he'll be home.

It's Thanksgiving, isn't it?

Maybe you'd better keep trying

to get that spare
oven, just in case.

BUB: 23 calls. That's right.

I've made 23 phone calls,
and not an oven in sight.

What did you say?

I can't hear you, Steve.

Where are you, anyway?

I said I've been chasing
him all over town,

but I haven't found him yet.

What?

What?

What?

Oh. I said I've been looking
all over town for Harry Crane.

I haven't found him yet.

Well, look, Steve...
Hey, Bub! Hey, Bub!

Hold on a minute, will you?

(yelling): What is it?

(quietly): What is it?

Johnny thinks it's the outlet.

There's a power
failure, he thinks.

Well, stop the presses.

Hey, Steve, why
don't you...? Yeah.

I said, why don't you just...?

Why don't we cut
it up and broil it?

BUB: What did you say?

You ever try to broil
a turkey that size?

What? No. Don't.

What's that, Steve?

In case I don't find him,

why don't you call
the Kingsley House

and make reservations
for us all, huh?

Okay, Steve. Right. Good-bye.

What?

I said good-bye.

Oh. Good-bye.

What did you say?

I said good-bye.

That's what I said I said.

Good-bye.

When do we eat?

Soon as I get the number
of the Kingsley House

and make a reservation.

MIKE: Well, that's a restaurant.

A lot of people eat in
restaurants on Thanksgiving.

Yeah, well, Miss Benson was
looking forward to a home-cooked meal.

Now, look, fellas,
let's not start moaning.

Robbie, put that
bird in the freezer.

Soon as we get through here,

we gotta go and get dressed.

We can't show up at the
Kingsley House looking like this.

Hello.

I want to make a
reservation tonight for di...

Well, what time will
you have one available?

10:00? 10:00 tonight?

ROBBIE: We'll starve!

Look, I'm sure it would only take
him a few minutes, Mrs. Crane.

Look, Mr. Douglas,
you're a very nice man,

and Harry likes you a lot.

Oh, and he still talks
about that wonderful,

exciting time he had fixing

your washing machine. But, now,

wouldn't you hate to disturb
a perfect memory like that

by taking him away from
his Thanksgiving dinner?

Well, isn't he lucky to
have a Thanksgiving dinner

he can be taken away from?

Look, you're the fifth one
today who's been after him.

And, now that
Harry's finally home,

I plan to keep him here.

Well, at least
till after dinner.

Look, Mrs. Crane, I'm right
back where I started from.

I've been following him
around town for over four hours.

You and ten other people
with electrical problems.

Honestly, there's
no privacy at all.

Up all hours, phone calls
at 3:00 a.m., 4:00 a.m.,

day or night, seven days a
week including holidays, like today.

It's like being married
to an obstetrician.

We're not expecting a
baby, Mrs. Crane. Just...

I wish you were.

Then you wouldn't
be bothering Harry.

Mrs. Crane, it's Thanksgiving.

(mutters): Restaurant.

Fine way to spend
a Thanksgiving.

(sniffing)

(sniffing)

(sniffing)

(sniffing)

(sniffing continues)

(sniffing)

(sniffing)

Do you fellows smell anything?

Smells like someone's cooking.

That's what I thought.

Maybe it's over
at the Pearsons'.

Maybe.

(sniffing)

Sorry.

(sniffing)

Seems to be coming
from back here somewhere.

Yeah.

(sniffing)

ROBBIE: Our turkey!

What's it doing there?

Cooking.

Kingsley House, here we come.

That's how the Wampanoags do it.

It's also how the hoboes do it.

ROBBIE: "Wampanoag
recipe for Turkey Squanto:

Dump bird in hole
in the ground."

MIKE: "Season with dried grass,

with a generous
helping of wet leaves."

BUB: And good luck.

All right, now I cross the
"T" wire to the "E" wire.

That's... that's the red
one to the yellow one, right?

Now what do I... what
do I do with the black one

and the white one that
are left? (mumbling)

I beg your pardon?
(mumbling louder)

I can't hear you
very well, Mr. Crane.

Could you speak a little louder?

What do I do with the
black one and the white one?

It's no fair, Dad!
It's just no fair!

He did all the work, and now
they went and hurt his feelings.

And now we can't find him.

Who...? Well, Tramp
always comes home, Chip.

Not Tramp, Dad. How
come you never understand

what I'm talking
about? I... I understand.

Isn't that right, Dad?
Tell him I'm right.

I don't know if
you're right or not.

I knew that big mouth of yours

would get us into
trouble someday.

Now, look, fellas.

Dad, how can you take sides

when you weren't even here?

What do you mean, take sides?

The only mistake we
made with you, Robbie,

was teaching you how to talk.

Look, look, look.

Yeah, well, who practically

yelled right in Squanto's face

that he wasn't an Indian?

And what did you say? Boys?

Did you have anything
nice to say about him?

Yeah, well I sure had something
nice to say to you. Come on, Dad.

Now, Chip... Thank goodness.

Here, Mr. Douglas.

Would you put this
on the table, please?

Oh, why certainly. Come on, Dad.

(Miss Benson hums)
Chip, who is that?

Miss Benson. Come on!

The turkey's going
to be all burned.

Burned, how could it
be burned? Come on!

It's not even cooked
yet, is it? Hi, Mr. Douglas.

Oh, hello, Jean. Better
find Mr. Squanto quickly.

Yeah, let's go see
if he went home.

The table's out
here, Mr. Douglas.

Oh... Come on, we
got to go get him.

(humming, indistinct chatter)

Well, for the love
of Mike... Come on!

(indistinct chatter)

Wait a minute, Chip.

Here, let me take that.

Well, thank you, Miss Benson.

Doesn't it look nice?
It certainly does.

Who did all this? Squanto,
but I guess he lost his nerve

when it came to
eating his own cooking.

He did not. Well,
where is he, Chip?

That's what I've
been trying to tell you.

He left because Mike and
Robbie hurt his feelings.

Mike, I thought we
talked this all over.

Dad, it isn't my fault.

I tried to tell Robbie... What?

What did you try to tell me?

Well, I... Never mind, Mike.

Well, it, uh... looks like
we sort of messed up

the spirit of
Thanksgiving, doesn't it?

I wonder what we
can do to Christmas?

SQUANTO: The moon
comes full and greets all here.

Jeepers!

Johnny Squanto is
honored to be a guest

at your feast of Thanksgiving.

Many moons ago, another
Squanto was a guest

at the first feast
of Thanksgiving.

His son traveled to the
West, and settled here.

Here, where this
house now stands,

Squanto's great
grandfather built a camp

in a clearing of
tall birch trees,

and used the bark to
make many strong canoes.

The running stream
was clear and sweet,

and he planted corn where

Little Chipmunk
now plants his corn.

Then after many
snows had melted,

men came with great
saws and bulldozers,

and cement mixers.

And Squanto's people

left with the wild
birds of the sky...

and animals of the forest.

Johnny was only a boy then,

like Little Chipmunk, here.

"Always watch over this
land," Johnny's father told him.

"For in it, dwells the
spirit of the Wampanoags."

So Johnny Squanto
still lives in this town,

watching over the
land of his ancestors.

And today, as it was
in the beginning...

the Indian and the white man

meet on their common ground,

to give thanks.

(door closes)

Well, I guess we
better eat without him.

Come on, let's get
the show on the road.

Mr. Squanto, I'm afraid
most of us Douglases

have been guilty of
an error in judgment.

BUB: Well I, I had
a feeling all along.

Boy, you said it, Mr. Squanto...

(overlapping chatter)

There's an old Wampanoag saying:

"The secret of
all true happiness

is a trusting heart."

We Douglases have a
saying, too, Mr. Squanto.

"Any friend of Chip's
is a friend of ours."

Yeah, that's right.
Yeah, Mr. Squanto.

(all greeting)

MISS BENSON: ♪
We gather together ♪

♪ To ask the Lord's blessing ♪

Well, come on, let's
get at this dinner.

There's plenty of food here.
I know you're all hungry.

Come on.

(others join in): ♪ The
wicked oppressing ♪

♪ Now cease from distressing ♪

♪ Sing praises to His name ♪

♪ He forgets not His own ♪

♪ We all do extol Thee ♪

♪ Thou leader triumphant... ♪

I don't know how we can ever
thank you for this, Mr. Squanto.

You've certainly
made our Thanksgiving.

Oh, by the way, I, uh,

I notice you can talk
when you want to.

At your house last
night... Oh, yes.

Misplaced something important.

Just found it.

All safely anchored now.

(indistinct conversations)

♪ Ordaining, maintaining
His kingdom divine ♪

♪ So from the beginning ♪

♪ The fight we were winning... ♪

Come on, you
fellows, with that turkey!

Now, let's enjoy
this wonderful food.

Now, Miss Benson, will
you sit right there, please?

Jean, you sit right...

That's the turkey, everyone.

(indistinct chatter)

(guests continue singing hymn)

Well, anybody wants dark meat,

raise their hand. I want both.

Okay, Chip. (overlapping
chatter continues)

♪ Thy name be ever praised ♪

♪ O Lord, make us free. ♪