Petticoat Junction (1963–1970): Season 1, Episode 22 - The Art Game - full transcript
Much to Kate's chagrin, Uncle Joe has again accepted what she considers useless sample merchandise from a traveling salesman staying at the hotel for payment rather than cold hard cash, which she needs for operating costs. The samples this time are a set of six paint-by-number canvases. Uncle Joe believes that hanging one of his completed paintings behind the lobby desk will positively influence people in making the decision to check-in at the hotel. Uncle Joe's first painting not only doesn't look anything like the sample, but it repulses everyone who sees it... that is except for Mssrs. Cheever and Parks - an art dealer and his assistant - who have stopped into the hotel for dinner. Following their negotiation, Cheever buys the painting as is, complete with frame, for $15. What Uncle Joe is unaware of is that Cheever, who like everyone else is repulsed by the painting, recognized the frame as being one worth $200. Based on the sale, Uncle Joe believes he is the next great artist, as news of the painting sale spreads throughout Hooterville. Will others, including his own family and friends who see Uncle Joe's five other canvasses, now be swayed by what they believe was the positive critique of a professional? And what will Cheever do when he realizes that Uncle Joe switched frames, giving him what he believed is a more valuable one - but which in reality has no monetary value - just in case his painting isn't worth the $15 for which he sold it?
It looks like the Shady Rest
is home to the world's
next great painter,
or at least Uncle Joe thinks so
when one of his master
works sells to an art dealer
played by Lyle Talbot,
who, among his countless roles,
played the Man of Steel's
arch-nemesis, Lex Luthor,
in the 1950 movie,
Atom Man vs. Superman.
Talbot was also a
recurring presence
on The Bob Cummings Show,
also known as Love That Bob,
a show my father created
and produced in the '50s.
Well, let's find out if
Joe's painting prowess
is a genuine talent,
or just a frame-up,
in this episode from
February the 18th, 1964,
called "The Art Game."
(train whistle blows twice)
♪ Come ride the little train ♪
♪ That is rollin' down the
tracks to the Junction ♪
(bell clanging)
♪ Forget about your cares ♪
♪ It is time to relax
at the Junction ♪
(whistle blows twice)
♪ Lots of curves, you bet ♪
♪ And even more when you get ♪
♪ To the Junction ♪
♪ Petticoat Junction ♪
(snare drum plays train rhythm)
♪ There's a little hotel called
the Shady Rest at the Junction ♪
♪ Petticoat Junction ♪
♪ It is run by Kate, come and
be her guest at the Junction ♪
♪ Petticoat Junction ♪
♪ And that's Uncle Joe,
he's a-movin' kinda slow ♪
♪ At the Junction ♪
♪ Petticoat Junction! ♪
(train whistle blows twice)
KATE: Uncle Joe.
Betty says one of
the salesmen left.
Did he settle up his bill?
Yeah, I took care of it.
Well, I'm sure glad
somebody checked out.
Business has
been terrible lately.
Well, losing guests
don't improve it any.
(chuckles): Oh, I know.
But it gives us some cash
to feed the ones we have left.
Where is it?
Uh, this here feller
didn't pay me in cash.
Oh, well, I'm sure
his check's good.
Yeah, of course it is.
He didn't give me
a check, either.
Oh, no, Uncle Joe, not again.
What do you mean?
You let him pay you off
in useless sample
merchandise, didn't you?
I did no such thing.
Oh.
(sighs): Thank goodness.
For a minute, you
gave me quite a turn.
There ain't nothing useless
about this sample merchandise.
You just spun me
the whole way round.
Wait till I show you
what I wangled out
of that salesman.
Kate, this is the best deal yet.
Better than the six
dozen hula hoops
you wangled out of the last one?
They're still
cluttering up the attic.
Four dozen.
You forgot the batch I
traded to Hank Fulton.
Oh, yes.
For a gross of
buttonhooks, wasn't it?
And two pogo sticks.
Someday, they'll be
worth good money.
Oh, sure.
If people start
whirling and jumping
in high-button
shoes, we'll be rich.
I'll bet you Hank's still
kicking himself for that one.
Kate, how would you like
a beautiful painting to
hang back of the desk?
We got a painting hanging there.
But this one's permanent.
You don't throw
it away every year
after you tear out December.
Is that what the
salesman gave you?
A painting?
Not exactly.
But about as near
to it as you can get.
If that's the nearest
thing to a painting,
you have a very poor
sense of distance.
Maybe I better
explain it to you.
You notice a
picture's divided into
all these little sections
with numbers in them.
Well, everywhere
there's a number,
you put a different color.
And you know what you get?
Different colored numbers?
Got no sense of
imagination, Kate.
Now, here's a picture after
I got finished painting it.
Uncle Joe, the ten dollars
that salesman owed us
was our grocery money.
How could you take
a painting instead?!
Not just this one, Kate.
He gave me six others.
If you don't like
the sailing boat,
how about a pedigreed setter?
Or...
Here's General Custer I
got from him on a horse.
You should've gotten
Alexander Hamilton.
What's so special about
Alexander Hamilton?
His picture's on
a ten dollar bill.
Number 13, green.
(knocking)
(whispering): Darn!
Who is it?
It's nearly
dinnertime, Uncle Joe.
Mom asked me to
see if you were ready.
Pretty soon, Betty Jo.
I'm just putting the
finishing touches
on my painting.
Here, hold this up for a spell.
I want to make
sure I got it right.
Is this what you're painting?
It's mighty pretty.
Wait till you see how I done it.
There, finished.
What do you think of it?
Wow!
Of course, I can't
take all the credit.
I just copied it from the model.
What's the ship doing
on top of a mountain?
JOE: Oh, that's not a
mountain, that's a wave.
BETTY JO: A brown wave?
You noticed that, huh?
I guess I slipped
up on that one.
I got the numbers switched.
Instead of number
32, I used number 23.
What about the purple sky?
On this, it's blue.
I guess I got that
number backwards, too.
Eleven?
The little things don't count.
Real great artists sometimes
slip up on the details.
You'd know that
if you'd ever seen
a picture of the Venus de Milo.
Hey, wait till you
see it in this old frame
I dug up out of the attic.
Well, where are
you gonna hang it?
I figure the best place is
over the desk in the lobby.
Isn't that kind of conspicuous?
Yeah, that's what
I was thinking.
First thing folks'll see
when they come in.
It'll hit them right
between the eyes.
That's what I was thinking, too.
Oh, Uncle Joe, you better
take this laundry upstairs.
The Cannonball's in; I
got to get dinner started.
And besides, I was...
Well, you could've
waited till I had a hold of it.
Oh, you seen the picture.
How's it hit you?
Right between the eyes.
It's still there.
Well, ain't you
gonna say something?
Soon as I figure out
a way to phrase it.
Does it have to hang up there?
You know, when
folks come in here,
that's gonna be the
first thing they see.
Well, that's the idea.
Stranger comes through the
door, walks over to the desk,
trying to make up his
mind whether to check in,
looks up, sees
the picture, and...
And makes up his mind.
Now you're getting the idea.
Don't you think it'd look nicer
hanging next to
your wooden Indian?
Oh, but you're always
hiding my Indian.
I don't even know
where he is now.
Down in the cellar,
behind the furnace.
Kate, just because you got
no appreciation of art,
don't mean... (door opens)
CHARLEY: Here's the groceries
you asked me to pick up
at Sam Drucker's, Kate.
And we brung two
passengers for dinner.
Hey, watch what
you're doing, Charley.
Lucky thing I'm
carrying in the eggs.
You notice
something new, fellas?
I done it.
What for?
Well, it gives the place class.
Not many hotels got an
original oil painting in the lobbies.
Not that original.
I reckon it's the first time
a ship ever got stuck
on top of a mountain.
Well, what about Noah's ark?
Besides, that's not a
mountain, it's a wave.
A brown wave?
A purple sky?
Well, you're standing too close.
Got to move back from it
to get the full enjoyment.
Well, I know, but the
lobby ain't big enough.
You ain't a-gonna leave that
thing up there, are you, Kate?
Why ain't she? It
looks just fine up there.
Besides, it hides
the crack in the wall.
What crack?
The one I made
when I hung it up.
Personally, I prefer
a crack in the wall.
Personally, I don't think
the wall's the only thing
around here that's cracked.
That painting hangs
just where it is,
and I don't want to
argue about it no more!
I declare.
Sometimes that
man's just like a mule.
Worse.
A mule could paint ten
times better than that.
(bell clanging)
Of all the ridiculous ideas.
Stopping a train in the
middle of nowhere for dinner.
If it's just for dinner,
why do I have to lug
this vase with me?
Because it's an
expensive antique.
I don't want to let
it out of my hands.
You mean my hands.
This thing's heavy.
Stop complaining, Parks.
What do you think I pay you for?
Besides, you know
about my bad back.
Before you come in any further,
you better hand me that vase
What about your bad back?
Never mind my back,
hand me the vase.
Oh, it's all right with me,
but I don't understand why
all of a sudden you want...
Now I understand.
You know something, Parks?
I think we've just walked
into the Twilight Zone.
And we're supposed
to have dinner here.
Who's hungry?
Wait a minute. I want to
get a closer look at this.
Oh... Mr. Cheever.
You may have a weak back,
but you certainly
have a strong stomach.
I am not talking
about the painting.
Parks, wouldn't
you say this frame
is an authentic 19th
century von Goedden?
It certainly looks like it.
Of course I'd have to see the
marks on the back to be sure.
Look... That is authentic.
That must be
worth at least $200.
Notice the subtle detail.
Magnificent.
Afternoon, gentlemen.
I see you're
admiring my painting.
You painted this?
Well, I don't like
to brag, but...
I'm the artist.
I wouldn't call that bragging.
He means you have
a very special talent.
Special, huh? I don't believe
there's another
human being alive
who could do
something like this.
Isn't that right?
Oh, that's the best
painting I've ever seen
of a ship on top of a mountain.
Would you be willing to sell it?
It's not a mountain... Sell it?
For money?
Of course. I'm an art
dealer in Nashville,
and I'd be very interested
in buying this painting... as is.
How much do you want for it?
Uh, w-well, let me
see now. There's...
uh, the paint, the
canvas, the labor...
wear and tear on the brushes.
$20.00?
$15. With the frame.
Sold.
Sold?
I knew I was dealing
with a shrewd trader.
It's easy to see you're
as good a businessman
as you are an artist.
(coughing)
I'm warning you, Kate, you
leave that thing hanging up there,
there won't be a
guest left in the hotel.
Oh, is it really that bad?
You oughta see it.
Billie Jo, that's not a nice
thing to say to your sister.
All right, folks, here's
your last chance
to see this work of art.
Oh, I'm sorry.
That's all right, Bobbie Jo.
It wasn't your fault.
I see you've come to your senses
and took that
crazy picture down.
Crazy picture, huh?
This painting's just
been sold for $15.
Who's crazy now?
That fellow who bought it.
The fellow who bought it's
an art dealer from Nashville,
one of the passengers you
brung in on the Cannonball.
Uncle Joe, you mean
you really sold it?
JOE: For $15.
I'm on my way to crate
it for the man right now.
Well, does he
know how you did it?
By coloring in the numbers?
He didn't ask me.
Don't you think he should know?
He paid $15 for
an original painting.
Yours is just a copy.
This ain't a copy.
The original was a picture
of a ship riding on a wave.
This here's a picture of a
ship stuck on a mountain.
If you don't tell him, I will.
Oh, now, wait a minute, Kate.
Don't ruin my career
just as I'm getting started.
I'll tell you what.
Instead of this old frame,
we'll give him the one
off Grandpa's picture.
You know, the one
with the carved cupids
and the red-and-green
scalloped border.
I don't know.
Well, he certainly ought to
get his money's worth with that.
Yeah, I suppose so.
But just to make sure, I
won't charge him for his dinner.
Thank you, Mrs. Bradley
for the lovely dinner.
And thank you, Mr. Carson,
for the, the
incredible work of art.
(train whistle blowing)
We'd better get going.
They're calling us.
I'll carry it down
to the train for you.
No extra charge.
As I always say, there's
no accounting for taste.
Do you think Uncle
Joe is really talented?
Well, Mr. Cheever
is an art dealer,
and you heard how he kept
calling the painting incredible.
For all we know, Uncle
Joe could be a genius.
Mm. Uncle Joe a genius.
That'd be nice.
It would keep him
occupied in his later years.
You know, it's just possible
that Uncle Joe is a primitive.
Bobbie Jo.
Mom, I mean it.
He shows all the
signs of being one.
Oh, I don't think so.
Maybe his forehead
slants back a bit,
but his chin doesn't recede.
Either one of them.
Mom, a primitive is
what they call artists
without any training.
Oh? Sure.
There was a woman called
Grandma Moses up in New England
who started painting when
she was in her seventies.
She never studied in her life,
but her paintings are in
all the famous museums.
Well, that explains it.
Uncle Joe must be a primitive.
Still putting me on, hey, Kate?
Oh, no, no, Uncle Joe.
You don't understand.
A primitive is what
they call a famous artist
who hasn't had any training.
What Mom meant is
that you could be
another Grandma Moses.
Grandma Moses?
I ain't even married.
Bobbie Jo's talking
about an old lady
who was a famous artist,
and that's the way she signed
her paintings... Grandma Moses.
Grandma Moses, huh?
And you say she
was a great artist?
Her pictures are
in all the museums.
Say, that inspires me to
another great, original idea.
From now on, I'll sign all
my pictures... Uncle Joe.
Excuse me, dear.
Uncle Joe, uh, I
hope that this, um,
career in painting will
make you very, very happy,
but... I wouldn't
bank on it too much.
Well, I am banking on it.
It's the first chance in my life
I've had a chance to be somebody
and be respected by
the people around here.
Uncle Joe, I respect
you, and so do the girls.
Yeah, but you don't count.
No, no, I mean, uh...
Well, you know
what I mean. Sure.
You know, it's important
for a man to feel
that he has accomplished
something in life,
and not just been a
drag on his loved ones.
But you haven't
been a drag on us.
We love and respect you.
Oh, go on, Kate.
But it's true.
Oh, I'll admit there
have been times
when that love and respect
have skidded mighty close
to irritation, but nobody's
more important to us than you.
Thanks, Kate.
Knowing you and the girls
think that way about me
makes me feel great.
And I want you
to be proud of me.
That's why I got to
make good. I just got to.
I know, Uncle Joe.
Oh, I know.
(hammering)
Betty, what's all
the noise about?
Uncle Joe asked me to finish
tacking up his press clippings.
Press clippings?
Sam Drucker ran a big
article about Uncle Joe
in the Hooterville
World Guardian.
But honey, all that hammering?
You think Sam Drucker prints
only one copy of his paper?
No wonder Sam said he
doubled his circulation in this issue.
Ma, Betty Jo, guess
what happened.
Oh, let me tell it.
You go up and tell
Uncle Joe. Mom...
I thought you were
gonna tell Uncle Joe.
Oh, that's right.
Well, I'll run up
and tell Uncle Joe,
and you can tell them.
No, no, you tell...
Well, if you want
to tell Uncle Joe...
No, I'm telling...
Tell me what?!
The director of the art
museum in Centerville
called up Sam Drucker.
He read about Uncle
Joe in the newspaper,
and he's coming here
tomorrow to see him.
What for?
Well, he's thinking
of exhibiting all
of his paintings in the museum.
No kidding? The whole
town's buzzing about it.
Now this ought to put
Shady Rest on the map.
Oh, I wouldn't be
too sure of that.
But, Mom, if Uncle
Joe gets famous,
think of the kind of people
that will be coming here.
Man! I thought of it first now.
Now I need a lot of
new clothes, Mother.
To, to, to, to, to, simmer down.
In the first place,
nothing has happened yet.
And in the second place, we...
Well, well, how do
you like that for news?
All them Uncle Joes's
hanging in a real art museum.
What Uncle Joes's?
Aside from the picture
you sold Mr. Cheever,
you haven't painted a thing.
Yeah.
Lucky for me you
thought of that, Kate.
That's one thing I overlooked.
When did you say that
museum feller was coming?
Tomorrow.
Well, all I got to do is
knock out five more
masterpieces before he shows up.
Why only five?
That's all the
canvases I got left.
Say, one of you girls
better come along.
I'll need you for the pictures.
As the model?
No, I want you to read
off the numbers to me.
Number 14, pink.
Number 14, pink.
Number 14, pink.
Number 21, violet.
Number 21, violet.
Number 21, violet.
Careful, Uncle Joe.
You're sloshing
it over the lines.
Who's the primitive
around here... you or me?
You are, Uncle Joe,
but this one's beginning to
look like a primitive's primitive.
When I paint, I paint whole hog.
Bring on that museum fella.
Mom, the Cannonball's here
with the people for
Uncle Joe's art exhibit.
Oh, I sure hope everybody
likes the way he paints.
They've already had a sample.
Look.
Oh, no!
He's painted on another
one of my bed sheets.
Darn it anyway.
I was hoping Uncle Joe
would stick to his canvases
and leave my bed sheets alone.
I guess that's the
price of art, Mom.
More like the price
of a new sheet.
Uncle Joe, get
ready, here they come.
JOE: Bring 'em on.
Especially that museum feller.
Lovely.
Dandy.
Work of art.
Exquisite.
Oh, Billie, don't be
stingy with the punch.
We want to make
a good impression.
And with each program
you hand out, Bobbie,
be sure there's a
press clipping attached.
They're here.
What's this?
Program.
You know, you can't tell a
painting without a program.
You can say that again.
Now let's not block
the doorway, folks.
Everyone's entitled to
a view of the pictures.
"General Custer on His Horse."
I can see the horse, but
where's General Custer?
CHARLEY: Well, this one's
a pedigreed Irish setter.
Uh, I'm E.T. Gibbs from
the Centerville Museum.
Well, welcome to the Shady
Rest gallery, Mr. Gibbs.
Howdy.
I guess you're the artist?
Oh, you can tell, huh?
Billie, give Mr. Gibbs
some punch.
Come right over here and
we'll take a look at the pictures.
This is a pedigreed
Irish setter.
Hmm.
JOE: This was General Custer...
before the Indians got to him.
Mm-hmm.
JOE: I call this one
"Church With Steeple."
Mm-hmm.
I didn't get that
last one, Kate.
What was it, a "Hmm,"
or a "Mm-hmm"?
Huh. Well, what do you think?
This one's for cow fanciers.
Mr. Carson, I've
seen Impressionism,
Expressionism, Cubism,
Surrealism, but this...
this is pure sadism.
You couldn't even
follow the numbers.
Uncle Joe, may... maybe
you'd better have some punch.
(knocking) JOE: Come in.
Uncle Joe, it's wrong of you to
stay cooped up here brooding.
We need you to run the hotel.
You'll just have to get along
the best you can without me.
My mind won't concentrate
after being laughed at
by all them folks
from Hooterville.
You mustn't feel bad, Uncle Joe.
You're not the only great artist
to be laughed at by the masses.
Were they there, too?
What Betty Jo means
is that there were
a lot of important painters
who weren't appreciated
while they were still alive.
Like Rembrandt.
He didn't become famous
until a hundred
years after he died.
That may be all
right for Rembrandt,
but I'd rather be
around when it happens.
Uncle Joe, you're
just not doing any good
grieving, just because...
(train whistle blows)
The Cannonball.
And they're signaling
they brought someone.
I better get on down.
You keep talking about
those important artists,
but stick to the live ones.
Mr. Cheever, you're back.
Of course I'm back.
You think I'd let
myself be swindled?
Swindled?
You know very well your
uncle outsmarted me.
Oh, I resent that.
Uncle Joe never outsmarted
anybody in his whole life.
What about this?
You mean the painting.
Not that monstrosity.
I'm talking about the frame.
I bought an authentic
antique von Goedden frame
and your uncle substituted
this piece of junk.
You mean, it was the
frame you were really after.
You don't have to pretend
anymore, Mrs. Bradley.
I admit $15 was a
ridiculous price to pay
for a von Goedden, and I
see you know its real value.
But I still want the frame
and I'll give you $150 for it.
Without the picture, $200.
$200 will be fine, Mr. Cheever.
Great. I'll write
you out a check.
Just a minute.
There are certain conditions.
Mm-hmm.
Kate, I think I'll
go back to bed.
I'll buy them.
You mean you like 'em?
I said I'll buy them.
Mr. Carson, I didn't
think it was possible,
but you did it again.
Well, thank you, Mr. Cheever.
How about $40?
I'll pack 'em up for you...
No, no, no, Mr. Cheever
means $40 apiece.
What are you trying to do, Kate?
Isn't that right, Mr. Cheever?
Naturally.
But that's $200.
$200 is a fair price,
but on one condition.
Kate... That you give
back Grandpa's frame
and take the old one.
Kate... But there's
just one thing.
Oh-oh.
I have a condition.
I think I'm getting one.
This is a unique collection.
I mean these paintings
are the only ones of their kind.
That makes them
more valuable, huh?
Well, maybe not right now.
Maybe not in your
lifetime, Mr. Carson.
But there's no telling
what they might be worth
if these are the only ones
there are after you're gone.
Like Rembrandt.
Well, the point is, if you keep
flooding the market
with Uncle Joes,
well, you can see what'll
happen to my investment.
I see what you mean.
That's why you've got to agree
not to paint another picture
without my permission.
That sounds fair enough
to me, Mr. Cheever.
You've got my word on
it as a man and an artist.
Your word as a man is enough.
Now if I may use
the pen in your lobby,
I'll write you a check.
Uncle Joe, you're a success.
A great artist.
Yeah, a great retired artist.
Don't forget, I made
a deal with that man.
Kate here deserves
a little credit.
If it weren't for
her lucky blunder,
we wouldn't have got
Grandpa's frame back.
$200 for the paintings.
And Mr. Cheever said someday
they'll even be
worth a lot more.
Yeah, that's the only hitch.
What?
I'll always have a
feeling that somewhere
that fella will be out
there rooting for me to die.
(all laughing)
♪ Petticoat Junction. ♪
This has been a
Filmways Presentation.
is home to the world's
next great painter,
or at least Uncle Joe thinks so
when one of his master
works sells to an art dealer
played by Lyle Talbot,
who, among his countless roles,
played the Man of Steel's
arch-nemesis, Lex Luthor,
in the 1950 movie,
Atom Man vs. Superman.
Talbot was also a
recurring presence
on The Bob Cummings Show,
also known as Love That Bob,
a show my father created
and produced in the '50s.
Well, let's find out if
Joe's painting prowess
is a genuine talent,
or just a frame-up,
in this episode from
February the 18th, 1964,
called "The Art Game."
(train whistle blows twice)
♪ Come ride the little train ♪
♪ That is rollin' down the
tracks to the Junction ♪
(bell clanging)
♪ Forget about your cares ♪
♪ It is time to relax
at the Junction ♪
(whistle blows twice)
♪ Lots of curves, you bet ♪
♪ And even more when you get ♪
♪ To the Junction ♪
♪ Petticoat Junction ♪
(snare drum plays train rhythm)
♪ There's a little hotel called
the Shady Rest at the Junction ♪
♪ Petticoat Junction ♪
♪ It is run by Kate, come and
be her guest at the Junction ♪
♪ Petticoat Junction ♪
♪ And that's Uncle Joe,
he's a-movin' kinda slow ♪
♪ At the Junction ♪
♪ Petticoat Junction! ♪
(train whistle blows twice)
KATE: Uncle Joe.
Betty says one of
the salesmen left.
Did he settle up his bill?
Yeah, I took care of it.
Well, I'm sure glad
somebody checked out.
Business has
been terrible lately.
Well, losing guests
don't improve it any.
(chuckles): Oh, I know.
But it gives us some cash
to feed the ones we have left.
Where is it?
Uh, this here feller
didn't pay me in cash.
Oh, well, I'm sure
his check's good.
Yeah, of course it is.
He didn't give me
a check, either.
Oh, no, Uncle Joe, not again.
What do you mean?
You let him pay you off
in useless sample
merchandise, didn't you?
I did no such thing.
Oh.
(sighs): Thank goodness.
For a minute, you
gave me quite a turn.
There ain't nothing useless
about this sample merchandise.
You just spun me
the whole way round.
Wait till I show you
what I wangled out
of that salesman.
Kate, this is the best deal yet.
Better than the six
dozen hula hoops
you wangled out of the last one?
They're still
cluttering up the attic.
Four dozen.
You forgot the batch I
traded to Hank Fulton.
Oh, yes.
For a gross of
buttonhooks, wasn't it?
And two pogo sticks.
Someday, they'll be
worth good money.
Oh, sure.
If people start
whirling and jumping
in high-button
shoes, we'll be rich.
I'll bet you Hank's still
kicking himself for that one.
Kate, how would you like
a beautiful painting to
hang back of the desk?
We got a painting hanging there.
But this one's permanent.
You don't throw
it away every year
after you tear out December.
Is that what the
salesman gave you?
A painting?
Not exactly.
But about as near
to it as you can get.
If that's the nearest
thing to a painting,
you have a very poor
sense of distance.
Maybe I better
explain it to you.
You notice a
picture's divided into
all these little sections
with numbers in them.
Well, everywhere
there's a number,
you put a different color.
And you know what you get?
Different colored numbers?
Got no sense of
imagination, Kate.
Now, here's a picture after
I got finished painting it.
Uncle Joe, the ten dollars
that salesman owed us
was our grocery money.
How could you take
a painting instead?!
Not just this one, Kate.
He gave me six others.
If you don't like
the sailing boat,
how about a pedigreed setter?
Or...
Here's General Custer I
got from him on a horse.
You should've gotten
Alexander Hamilton.
What's so special about
Alexander Hamilton?
His picture's on
a ten dollar bill.
Number 13, green.
(knocking)
(whispering): Darn!
Who is it?
It's nearly
dinnertime, Uncle Joe.
Mom asked me to
see if you were ready.
Pretty soon, Betty Jo.
I'm just putting the
finishing touches
on my painting.
Here, hold this up for a spell.
I want to make
sure I got it right.
Is this what you're painting?
It's mighty pretty.
Wait till you see how I done it.
There, finished.
What do you think of it?
Wow!
Of course, I can't
take all the credit.
I just copied it from the model.
What's the ship doing
on top of a mountain?
JOE: Oh, that's not a
mountain, that's a wave.
BETTY JO: A brown wave?
You noticed that, huh?
I guess I slipped
up on that one.
I got the numbers switched.
Instead of number
32, I used number 23.
What about the purple sky?
On this, it's blue.
I guess I got that
number backwards, too.
Eleven?
The little things don't count.
Real great artists sometimes
slip up on the details.
You'd know that
if you'd ever seen
a picture of the Venus de Milo.
Hey, wait till you
see it in this old frame
I dug up out of the attic.
Well, where are
you gonna hang it?
I figure the best place is
over the desk in the lobby.
Isn't that kind of conspicuous?
Yeah, that's what
I was thinking.
First thing folks'll see
when they come in.
It'll hit them right
between the eyes.
That's what I was thinking, too.
Oh, Uncle Joe, you better
take this laundry upstairs.
The Cannonball's in; I
got to get dinner started.
And besides, I was...
Well, you could've
waited till I had a hold of it.
Oh, you seen the picture.
How's it hit you?
Right between the eyes.
It's still there.
Well, ain't you
gonna say something?
Soon as I figure out
a way to phrase it.
Does it have to hang up there?
You know, when
folks come in here,
that's gonna be the
first thing they see.
Well, that's the idea.
Stranger comes through the
door, walks over to the desk,
trying to make up his
mind whether to check in,
looks up, sees
the picture, and...
And makes up his mind.
Now you're getting the idea.
Don't you think it'd look nicer
hanging next to
your wooden Indian?
Oh, but you're always
hiding my Indian.
I don't even know
where he is now.
Down in the cellar,
behind the furnace.
Kate, just because you got
no appreciation of art,
don't mean... (door opens)
CHARLEY: Here's the groceries
you asked me to pick up
at Sam Drucker's, Kate.
And we brung two
passengers for dinner.
Hey, watch what
you're doing, Charley.
Lucky thing I'm
carrying in the eggs.
You notice
something new, fellas?
I done it.
What for?
Well, it gives the place class.
Not many hotels got an
original oil painting in the lobbies.
Not that original.
I reckon it's the first time
a ship ever got stuck
on top of a mountain.
Well, what about Noah's ark?
Besides, that's not a
mountain, it's a wave.
A brown wave?
A purple sky?
Well, you're standing too close.
Got to move back from it
to get the full enjoyment.
Well, I know, but the
lobby ain't big enough.
You ain't a-gonna leave that
thing up there, are you, Kate?
Why ain't she? It
looks just fine up there.
Besides, it hides
the crack in the wall.
What crack?
The one I made
when I hung it up.
Personally, I prefer
a crack in the wall.
Personally, I don't think
the wall's the only thing
around here that's cracked.
That painting hangs
just where it is,
and I don't want to
argue about it no more!
I declare.
Sometimes that
man's just like a mule.
Worse.
A mule could paint ten
times better than that.
(bell clanging)
Of all the ridiculous ideas.
Stopping a train in the
middle of nowhere for dinner.
If it's just for dinner,
why do I have to lug
this vase with me?
Because it's an
expensive antique.
I don't want to let
it out of my hands.
You mean my hands.
This thing's heavy.
Stop complaining, Parks.
What do you think I pay you for?
Besides, you know
about my bad back.
Before you come in any further,
you better hand me that vase
What about your bad back?
Never mind my back,
hand me the vase.
Oh, it's all right with me,
but I don't understand why
all of a sudden you want...
Now I understand.
You know something, Parks?
I think we've just walked
into the Twilight Zone.
And we're supposed
to have dinner here.
Who's hungry?
Wait a minute. I want to
get a closer look at this.
Oh... Mr. Cheever.
You may have a weak back,
but you certainly
have a strong stomach.
I am not talking
about the painting.
Parks, wouldn't
you say this frame
is an authentic 19th
century von Goedden?
It certainly looks like it.
Of course I'd have to see the
marks on the back to be sure.
Look... That is authentic.
That must be
worth at least $200.
Notice the subtle detail.
Magnificent.
Afternoon, gentlemen.
I see you're
admiring my painting.
You painted this?
Well, I don't like
to brag, but...
I'm the artist.
I wouldn't call that bragging.
He means you have
a very special talent.
Special, huh? I don't believe
there's another
human being alive
who could do
something like this.
Isn't that right?
Oh, that's the best
painting I've ever seen
of a ship on top of a mountain.
Would you be willing to sell it?
It's not a mountain... Sell it?
For money?
Of course. I'm an art
dealer in Nashville,
and I'd be very interested
in buying this painting... as is.
How much do you want for it?
Uh, w-well, let me
see now. There's...
uh, the paint, the
canvas, the labor...
wear and tear on the brushes.
$20.00?
$15. With the frame.
Sold.
Sold?
I knew I was dealing
with a shrewd trader.
It's easy to see you're
as good a businessman
as you are an artist.
(coughing)
I'm warning you, Kate, you
leave that thing hanging up there,
there won't be a
guest left in the hotel.
Oh, is it really that bad?
You oughta see it.
Billie Jo, that's not a nice
thing to say to your sister.
All right, folks, here's
your last chance
to see this work of art.
Oh, I'm sorry.
That's all right, Bobbie Jo.
It wasn't your fault.
I see you've come to your senses
and took that
crazy picture down.
Crazy picture, huh?
This painting's just
been sold for $15.
Who's crazy now?
That fellow who bought it.
The fellow who bought it's
an art dealer from Nashville,
one of the passengers you
brung in on the Cannonball.
Uncle Joe, you mean
you really sold it?
JOE: For $15.
I'm on my way to crate
it for the man right now.
Well, does he
know how you did it?
By coloring in the numbers?
He didn't ask me.
Don't you think he should know?
He paid $15 for
an original painting.
Yours is just a copy.
This ain't a copy.
The original was a picture
of a ship riding on a wave.
This here's a picture of a
ship stuck on a mountain.
If you don't tell him, I will.
Oh, now, wait a minute, Kate.
Don't ruin my career
just as I'm getting started.
I'll tell you what.
Instead of this old frame,
we'll give him the one
off Grandpa's picture.
You know, the one
with the carved cupids
and the red-and-green
scalloped border.
I don't know.
Well, he certainly ought to
get his money's worth with that.
Yeah, I suppose so.
But just to make sure, I
won't charge him for his dinner.
Thank you, Mrs. Bradley
for the lovely dinner.
And thank you, Mr. Carson,
for the, the
incredible work of art.
(train whistle blowing)
We'd better get going.
They're calling us.
I'll carry it down
to the train for you.
No extra charge.
As I always say, there's
no accounting for taste.
Do you think Uncle
Joe is really talented?
Well, Mr. Cheever
is an art dealer,
and you heard how he kept
calling the painting incredible.
For all we know, Uncle
Joe could be a genius.
Mm. Uncle Joe a genius.
That'd be nice.
It would keep him
occupied in his later years.
You know, it's just possible
that Uncle Joe is a primitive.
Bobbie Jo.
Mom, I mean it.
He shows all the
signs of being one.
Oh, I don't think so.
Maybe his forehead
slants back a bit,
but his chin doesn't recede.
Either one of them.
Mom, a primitive is
what they call artists
without any training.
Oh? Sure.
There was a woman called
Grandma Moses up in New England
who started painting when
she was in her seventies.
She never studied in her life,
but her paintings are in
all the famous museums.
Well, that explains it.
Uncle Joe must be a primitive.
Still putting me on, hey, Kate?
Oh, no, no, Uncle Joe.
You don't understand.
A primitive is what
they call a famous artist
who hasn't had any training.
What Mom meant is
that you could be
another Grandma Moses.
Grandma Moses?
I ain't even married.
Bobbie Jo's talking
about an old lady
who was a famous artist,
and that's the way she signed
her paintings... Grandma Moses.
Grandma Moses, huh?
And you say she
was a great artist?
Her pictures are
in all the museums.
Say, that inspires me to
another great, original idea.
From now on, I'll sign all
my pictures... Uncle Joe.
Excuse me, dear.
Uncle Joe, uh, I
hope that this, um,
career in painting will
make you very, very happy,
but... I wouldn't
bank on it too much.
Well, I am banking on it.
It's the first chance in my life
I've had a chance to be somebody
and be respected by
the people around here.
Uncle Joe, I respect
you, and so do the girls.
Yeah, but you don't count.
No, no, I mean, uh...
Well, you know
what I mean. Sure.
You know, it's important
for a man to feel
that he has accomplished
something in life,
and not just been a
drag on his loved ones.
But you haven't
been a drag on us.
We love and respect you.
Oh, go on, Kate.
But it's true.
Oh, I'll admit there
have been times
when that love and respect
have skidded mighty close
to irritation, but nobody's
more important to us than you.
Thanks, Kate.
Knowing you and the girls
think that way about me
makes me feel great.
And I want you
to be proud of me.
That's why I got to
make good. I just got to.
I know, Uncle Joe.
Oh, I know.
(hammering)
Betty, what's all
the noise about?
Uncle Joe asked me to finish
tacking up his press clippings.
Press clippings?
Sam Drucker ran a big
article about Uncle Joe
in the Hooterville
World Guardian.
But honey, all that hammering?
You think Sam Drucker prints
only one copy of his paper?
No wonder Sam said he
doubled his circulation in this issue.
Ma, Betty Jo, guess
what happened.
Oh, let me tell it.
You go up and tell
Uncle Joe. Mom...
I thought you were
gonna tell Uncle Joe.
Oh, that's right.
Well, I'll run up
and tell Uncle Joe,
and you can tell them.
No, no, you tell...
Well, if you want
to tell Uncle Joe...
No, I'm telling...
Tell me what?!
The director of the art
museum in Centerville
called up Sam Drucker.
He read about Uncle
Joe in the newspaper,
and he's coming here
tomorrow to see him.
What for?
Well, he's thinking
of exhibiting all
of his paintings in the museum.
No kidding? The whole
town's buzzing about it.
Now this ought to put
Shady Rest on the map.
Oh, I wouldn't be
too sure of that.
But, Mom, if Uncle
Joe gets famous,
think of the kind of people
that will be coming here.
Man! I thought of it first now.
Now I need a lot of
new clothes, Mother.
To, to, to, to, to, simmer down.
In the first place,
nothing has happened yet.
And in the second place, we...
Well, well, how do
you like that for news?
All them Uncle Joes's
hanging in a real art museum.
What Uncle Joes's?
Aside from the picture
you sold Mr. Cheever,
you haven't painted a thing.
Yeah.
Lucky for me you
thought of that, Kate.
That's one thing I overlooked.
When did you say that
museum feller was coming?
Tomorrow.
Well, all I got to do is
knock out five more
masterpieces before he shows up.
Why only five?
That's all the
canvases I got left.
Say, one of you girls
better come along.
I'll need you for the pictures.
As the model?
No, I want you to read
off the numbers to me.
Number 14, pink.
Number 14, pink.
Number 14, pink.
Number 21, violet.
Number 21, violet.
Number 21, violet.
Careful, Uncle Joe.
You're sloshing
it over the lines.
Who's the primitive
around here... you or me?
You are, Uncle Joe,
but this one's beginning to
look like a primitive's primitive.
When I paint, I paint whole hog.
Bring on that museum fella.
Mom, the Cannonball's here
with the people for
Uncle Joe's art exhibit.
Oh, I sure hope everybody
likes the way he paints.
They've already had a sample.
Look.
Oh, no!
He's painted on another
one of my bed sheets.
Darn it anyway.
I was hoping Uncle Joe
would stick to his canvases
and leave my bed sheets alone.
I guess that's the
price of art, Mom.
More like the price
of a new sheet.
Uncle Joe, get
ready, here they come.
JOE: Bring 'em on.
Especially that museum feller.
Lovely.
Dandy.
Work of art.
Exquisite.
Oh, Billie, don't be
stingy with the punch.
We want to make
a good impression.
And with each program
you hand out, Bobbie,
be sure there's a
press clipping attached.
They're here.
What's this?
Program.
You know, you can't tell a
painting without a program.
You can say that again.
Now let's not block
the doorway, folks.
Everyone's entitled to
a view of the pictures.
"General Custer on His Horse."
I can see the horse, but
where's General Custer?
CHARLEY: Well, this one's
a pedigreed Irish setter.
Uh, I'm E.T. Gibbs from
the Centerville Museum.
Well, welcome to the Shady
Rest gallery, Mr. Gibbs.
Howdy.
I guess you're the artist?
Oh, you can tell, huh?
Billie, give Mr. Gibbs
some punch.
Come right over here and
we'll take a look at the pictures.
This is a pedigreed
Irish setter.
Hmm.
JOE: This was General Custer...
before the Indians got to him.
Mm-hmm.
JOE: I call this one
"Church With Steeple."
Mm-hmm.
I didn't get that
last one, Kate.
What was it, a "Hmm,"
or a "Mm-hmm"?
Huh. Well, what do you think?
This one's for cow fanciers.
Mr. Carson, I've
seen Impressionism,
Expressionism, Cubism,
Surrealism, but this...
this is pure sadism.
You couldn't even
follow the numbers.
Uncle Joe, may... maybe
you'd better have some punch.
(knocking) JOE: Come in.
Uncle Joe, it's wrong of you to
stay cooped up here brooding.
We need you to run the hotel.
You'll just have to get along
the best you can without me.
My mind won't concentrate
after being laughed at
by all them folks
from Hooterville.
You mustn't feel bad, Uncle Joe.
You're not the only great artist
to be laughed at by the masses.
Were they there, too?
What Betty Jo means
is that there were
a lot of important painters
who weren't appreciated
while they were still alive.
Like Rembrandt.
He didn't become famous
until a hundred
years after he died.
That may be all
right for Rembrandt,
but I'd rather be
around when it happens.
Uncle Joe, you're
just not doing any good
grieving, just because...
(train whistle blows)
The Cannonball.
And they're signaling
they brought someone.
I better get on down.
You keep talking about
those important artists,
but stick to the live ones.
Mr. Cheever, you're back.
Of course I'm back.
You think I'd let
myself be swindled?
Swindled?
You know very well your
uncle outsmarted me.
Oh, I resent that.
Uncle Joe never outsmarted
anybody in his whole life.
What about this?
You mean the painting.
Not that monstrosity.
I'm talking about the frame.
I bought an authentic
antique von Goedden frame
and your uncle substituted
this piece of junk.
You mean, it was the
frame you were really after.
You don't have to pretend
anymore, Mrs. Bradley.
I admit $15 was a
ridiculous price to pay
for a von Goedden, and I
see you know its real value.
But I still want the frame
and I'll give you $150 for it.
Without the picture, $200.
$200 will be fine, Mr. Cheever.
Great. I'll write
you out a check.
Just a minute.
There are certain conditions.
Mm-hmm.
Kate, I think I'll
go back to bed.
I'll buy them.
You mean you like 'em?
I said I'll buy them.
Mr. Carson, I didn't
think it was possible,
but you did it again.
Well, thank you, Mr. Cheever.
How about $40?
I'll pack 'em up for you...
No, no, no, Mr. Cheever
means $40 apiece.
What are you trying to do, Kate?
Isn't that right, Mr. Cheever?
Naturally.
But that's $200.
$200 is a fair price,
but on one condition.
Kate... That you give
back Grandpa's frame
and take the old one.
Kate... But there's
just one thing.
Oh-oh.
I have a condition.
I think I'm getting one.
This is a unique collection.
I mean these paintings
are the only ones of their kind.
That makes them
more valuable, huh?
Well, maybe not right now.
Maybe not in your
lifetime, Mr. Carson.
But there's no telling
what they might be worth
if these are the only ones
there are after you're gone.
Like Rembrandt.
Well, the point is, if you keep
flooding the market
with Uncle Joes,
well, you can see what'll
happen to my investment.
I see what you mean.
That's why you've got to agree
not to paint another picture
without my permission.
That sounds fair enough
to me, Mr. Cheever.
You've got my word on
it as a man and an artist.
Your word as a man is enough.
Now if I may use
the pen in your lobby,
I'll write you a check.
Uncle Joe, you're a success.
A great artist.
Yeah, a great retired artist.
Don't forget, I made
a deal with that man.
Kate here deserves
a little credit.
If it weren't for
her lucky blunder,
we wouldn't have got
Grandpa's frame back.
$200 for the paintings.
And Mr. Cheever said someday
they'll even be
worth a lot more.
Yeah, that's the only hitch.
What?
I'll always have a
feeling that somewhere
that fella will be out
there rooting for me to die.
(all laughing)
♪ Petticoat Junction. ♪
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Filmways Presentation.