Petticoat Junction (1963–1970): Season 2, Episode 16 - Billie Jo's First Job - full transcript

Fahrenheit 451
comes to Hooterville

in this next episode.

Well, it might not be
as intense as all that,

but Kate is none too pleased
when Billie Jo lands a job

as the secretary to a novelist

whose books have been
banned in Hooterville.

We always had plenty of great
character actors on our show,

and this episode
features a fine example

in Ernest Truex.

He plays Oliver Fenton here,

one of the last
roles of a career



that began way back
in the silent film era.

Now an episode
spotlighting Jeannine Riley,

"Billie Jo's First Job."

(train whistle blows)

♪ 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)

So, finally, the
secretarial school

decided to have the contest.

How long before
supper will be ready?

Soon. Go on, Billie Jo.

So, the school decided
to have a contest.

To find out what?

How long a man can
go without eating?

Uncle Joe, Billie's
trying to tell us

how she won herself a job.

A job?

That'll take your appetite away.

So, anyway, they picked
the best four students.

There was Gwen Phelps,

Etta Fowler and Prunella Plout.

You mean, you won out
over Selma's daughter?

Yeah.

Wait'll Mom
starts rubbing it in.

"Selma, has your daughter been

"in any contests with
my daughter lately?

My daughter was the..."

Go on, Billie Jo.

Well, the contest
was really a test,

and the teacher gave
us this very hard dictation,

which we had to type up.

And we were judged on
speed, neatness and accuracy.

And I won.

Oh, I'm very proud of you.

Yeah, me, too.

When do we eat?
Well, wait a second.

What kind of job did you win?

I am going to be
private secretary

to Oliver Fenton.

Who's Oliver Fenton?

Mr. Fenton is only the writer

that has written some
of our best sellers.

There was, uh, Dr. Love,

Fall on a Spring Afternoon.

And his last book
won a best award:

The Carpet Sweepers.

I never read it,
but it sure sounds

like a real lint picker.

I don't know anybody

named Fenton lives around here.

Oh, he doesn't.

Mr. Fenton spends
part of the time in Paris,

part of the time in Rome,

and he spends the rest
of the time in New York.

Then, why does he
want to live in Hooterville?

For atmosphere.

His next book is
about a small town.

Say, what's Mr. Fenton like?

I don't know.

He doesn't get in
till tomorrow night,

and I don't go to work
till 9:00 the next morning.

Honey, why don't you tell us

the rest of this at supper?

Uncle Joe is starved.

Not anymore, I ain't.

What do you think?

It is not.

KATE: Billie Jo.

Mom, does this look all right?

Gonna wear it Saturday night?

No, I'm gonna wear it to work.

No, you're not.

Wear this.

It's more suitable for business.

But Mr. Fenton
isn't a businessman.

He's a writer.

Then, let's, uh,

keep his mind on his writing.

But, Mom, this is
so unsophisticated.

Mr. Fenton has traveled
all over the world.

Then, he isn't
interested in sightseeing.

Oh, Mom.

You want to catch
your death of cold,

sitting around with bare
shoulders in a drafty office?

Oh, uh, I won't be
working in an office.

Mr. Fenton has rented
the old Ramsay house.

What?

All writers work at home.

His wife gonna be around?

Oh, he's not married.

Then, wear this.

Mom, this needs
shortening. I'll shorten it.

You haven't got the
right kind of thread.

I'll get it. I don't want to
cause you any trouble.

Then wear this.

(growling)

Ah, Billie Jo going
to work. Yeah.

It seems like only yesterday

I caught her with her
hand in the jelly bean jar.

As a matter of fact,
it was only yesterday.

I turned my back...
(door opening)

Oh, morning, Kate.

Good morning,
Selma. Morning, Sam.

Selma. Uh...

has your daughter
been in any contests

with my daughter lately?

If you're referring
to that contest

they had at the school,

even if Prunella had won it,

I wouldn't have permitted
her to take the job.

Why not?

I'm a little more careful
than some people

about who I'd let
my daughter work for.

Now, there's a remark

that's going to need
some explaining.

Do you know what kind

of books Oliver Fenton writes?

No, what kind?

That kind.

Well, what kind's that kind?

The kind no decent
self-respecting woman

would be caught dead reading.

Take his last one, The...
The Carpet Sweepers.

(sighing): Well.

Oh, you read it.

Of course.

And was it that kind of book?

Definitely.

Well, I like to make
up my own mind.

I'll get it out of the library,

and I'll read it myself.

You won't find
it in the library.

You still got it out?

I had it banned,

both here in
Hooterville and in Pixley.

How about that.

Selma is a two-city book banner.

If you doubt my judgment,
I'll loan you my copy.

Well, I'd be obliged.

I keep it under lock and key.

I wouldn't want
my son to find it.

Of course not, the
boy's only 32 years old.

Sam, do you know anything
about Oliver Fenton?

Only that he writes
those kind of books.

What kind?

Oh, Sam.

Would you mind
sitting over there?

You're a little
too young for this.

Kate. Later.

But I, uh...

Mom... Later.

(barking)

Later.

KATE: Billie Jo.

Hi, Mom, did you get the thread?

I won't need it... you're not
gonna work for Mr. Fenton.

Why not?

Did you ever read
any of his books? No.

Read this.

No, don't!

What's the matter with you?

There's nothing
the matter with me.

You're just not
going to work for him.

Well, you just can't
say I'm not gonna work

for him without
giving me a reason.

Oh, I've got plenty of reasons,

and they're all in this book.

For once in her life,
Selma Plout was right.

About what?

Oliver Fenton.

Here... read this.

Go ahead.

"Tony took Lisa in his arms

and kissed her ardently."

Don't seem to be
too much action.

Mom, is that why
you won't let me work

for Mr. Fenton, because
he writes love stories?

Mm-hmm.

You've read love stories.

Yes, I have, but
there's a difference

between reading them and
having some world-traveling man

dictating them to my daughter.

Hey, he ain't a bad-looking
feller for a writer.

He's handsome.

Take a good look at him.

It's the last you're
gonna see of him.

Mom!

I won the contest,
and I got the job,

and I'm going to take it.

You see what a bad
influence he is on you?

You're defying your
mother. I'm not defying you.

All I'm saying is that
you're being unreasonable.

All I'm saying is
the matter is closed.

(sobbing)

Well, looks like supper's
gonna be late again tonight.

Girl's in there
sobbing her eyes out.

I'm sorry, Uncle Joe.

You're just being stubborn.

I am not being stubborn.

I'm just not changing my mind.

Kate, that's not like you.

You've always prided
yourself on the fact

that you brought
your daughters up

knowing right from wrong.

Billie's got a
pretty good right.

I don't like the idea of her

sitting there while
somebody makes up

all this romantic
goulash in front of her.

She might get to
take it personally.

Ah, there ain't nothing
romantic in this book.

(laughs)

Page 62, Tony kisses Lisa.

Page 64, Tony kisses Alice.

Page 68, Tony kisses Wanda.

Just shows Tony

knows a lot of girls
and likes to kiss them.

Did you know that
Selma Plout had this book

banned from the
Hooterville library?

Selma Plout.

Yes, she was in Sam's...

And needled you right
out of your good senses.

She's just jealous

because Billie Jo
won out over Prunella.

All I got to say
is, if Billie Jo

was my daughter, Selma
Plout or nobody else

would talk me out
of not trusting her.

But I do trust her.

Then, why is she in there
crying bags under her eyes

so she won't be able
to go to work tomorrow?

You know, Uncle Joe, it's...

it's just a shame you never
had children of your own.

No, thanks.

It's tough enough being
mother to them three.

(bell ringing)

Oh, excuse me.

I'm Billie Jo Bradley.

Oh, from the secretarial school.

Come in.

Oh, thank you.

Is Mr. Fenton in?

I'm Mr. Fenton.

Um, Mr. Fenton Jr. The writer.

Oh, that's me.

I've been working all night.

Oh.

That was taken 30 years ago.

It's just the skin that's aged.

I, uh, was wearing this...

when that was taken.

Somehow the stuff I write
calls for a man with hair.

Have you read it?

No, sir. You've been
banned in Hooterville.

Oh, yes, I was
banned in Pixley, too.

And I'm on the borderline
in Crabwell Corners.

Mr. Fenton, I hope you
don't hold this against me,

but I'm not like the
rest of Hooterville.

I may be a small town girl,

but I've got a big city outlook.

Hold it.

Hold it!

(clears throat)

"I hope you won't hold
this against me, Mr. Dillian.

"I'm not like the
rest of Snyderville.

"I may be a small town girl,

but I've got a
big city outlook."

Oh, that will be a
great line for Candise.

She's my cornball heroine.

Mr. Fenton!

Oh, no offense.

But that line had
the ring of truth to it.

That's why I came here to write.

To get the flavor of a
small town and its people.

Oh, well, then I can
help you with your novel.

Gee, you wouldn't believe

some of the things that
have happened to me.

For instance, Henry...
Henry Brewster...

Came over one night to take
me for a ride and we went up...

(yawning)

Oh, excuse me.

It's not boredom.

I just need some sleep.

I, uh, I finished almost
two chapters last night.

Will you, uh, will
you type them up

and make two copies?

Oh, yes, sir!

Oh, and by the
way, Miss Bradley,

will you, uh...

keep this between
you, me and, uh...

(chuckles): Julius?

Good night.

Good night.

FENTON (on tape): Chapter one,

George Blackwell took
Candise in his arms

and kissed her ardently.

She hadn't seen
him for some time,

so this was a very fond
meeting for both of them.

(bell clanging)

Kate, I just got back from town.

I took a walk down by
the old Ramsey place.

What for? Well, I thought

you might be
worried about Billie Jo.

I'm not. Kate, the
shades were down.

Would you like a piece of pie?

Didn't you hear me?

The shades were down.

Yes, I heard.

I've got, uh,
blueberry, and apple.

What kind of a mother are you?

Your daughter's
alone in that house

with that kissing story writer,

the shades are down and
all you do is stand around

and offer me my choice
of blueberry and apple.

I'll take apple.

I'm not worried.

Why not?

You told me not to.

The reason I told
you not to worry is

because I didn't
want to worry you.

Oh. If you'd listened
to me in the first place,

you wouldn't let
her take this job.

You were the one that told me

it was all right.

Well, how did I know you
was gonna take my advice?

You never have
before. I never will again.

Take my advice and go into
town and get her out of there.

I was up half the
night reading that book.

Uncle Joe, calm down.

Billie Jo's all right.

Well how can you be sure?

Mothers have a way of knowing.

FENTON: George Blackwell

took Daphne in his arms

and kissed her ardently.

He had kissed
many girls before...

Alison, Margery,
Gwendolyn, Florence,

Sylvia, Agnes... (bell ringing)

Excuse me, is Wallace
Haliburton here?

I... Say aren't you
Billie Jo Bradley?

Why, Billie Jo, what
are you doing here?

I might ask you the same thing.

Well, I came to see
Wallace Haliburton.

If he ain't here I'll wait.

Mr. Haliburton lives
two blocks down.

Oh, when did he move?

Right after you
sold him the house.

Sally, Marie... (bell ringing)

Are you the lady that shipped
a crate of rhubarb to...?

Billie Jo, imagine
seeing you here.

Imagine anybody
wanting to ship rhubarb

this time of year.

Hothouse. It's hot air.

Billie Jo, that's funny.

Hot air, hothouse.

Charley, when's Floyd due?

Well, he's supposed to be...

What do you mean?

I mean tell him not to bother.

Bye.

(bell ringing)

Hi, Billie Jo.

Charley didn't give me your
message not to bother you,

so... When he does, don't.

(sighs)

Oh, Mom, there you are.

Billie Jo, home
from work already.

Oh, didn't your spies
report when I left work?

Spies?

Oh, didn't they tell
you the exact time

that I kissed
Mr. Fenton good-bye?

They didn't say one word

about your kissing Mister...

Mom, how could you?

Your mother's practically
been beside herself with worry.

It's all I could do to keep
her from going in herself.

What?

Kate, next time take my advice.

When I tell you not to worry,

don't worry. Uncle Joe.

Hi, Billie Jo.

How'd the work go today?

Well, it's hard to say.

I spent most of the
afternoon opening the door.

Yeah, your mother's been
so worried about Billie Jo...

Uncle Joe, if you
don't keep quiet.

Well, I've had my say.

Remember my
advice... Don't worry.

What kind of man is Mr. Fenton?

Oh, he's charming.

Is his hair really that wavy?

Oh, yes.

I couldn't take my
eyes off of it all day.

Betty Jo, we need a couple
serving spoons, please.

Is the work hard?

It's fascinating!

Well, just sitting
there listening

to Mr. Fenton's thrilling voice

dictating the most
romantic passages.

"Cynthia, I love you."

But it's as though
he were saying,

"Billie Jo, I love you!"

Tomorrow you start
looking for another job.

But, Mom, Mr. Fenton's
counting on me.

Well, he's gonna
put me in his novel.

To him... I'm Hooterville.

What kind of dull
book is he writing?

There's nothing dull about it.

Why, he's going to use
some of the romantic things

that have actually
happened to me.

What other, uh, incidents
are you planning to reveal

to, uh, Mr. Fenton?

Oh, well, remember
the time that Doc Stuart

had to go to the county seat

and I had to nurse Mr. Ziffel's
prized sow back to health?

Nurse his prized...
Mom, that was drama.

You know, Uncle Joe was right.

I don't have anything
to worry about.

Candise was shocked.

She pushed George away
from her and said, uh...

(sniffs)

Something in here
smells like fly spray.

What was I saying?

Uh, "Candise was shocked.

"She pushed George
away from her and said,

'Something in here
smells like fly spray.'"

Oh. No, I was just
commenting that, uh...

You wearing perfume?

Yes, sir. Fireball.

Do you like it?

Well, it's, uh, unique.

Today, for the first time,

Oliver noticed the
perfume I was wearing.

Took him a week to notice that?

Has he got a cold?

Well, perhaps he never stood
as close to me as he did today.

I'm not worried.

Miss Bradley?

Can you read the
name of this city?

This type is so small.

Here? No. There.

Oh, "Wagonville."

Huh, looked like
"Wigginville" to me.

Boy, you sure have
wonderful eyes.

And then Oliver took
my hand in his and said,

"Billie Jo, you have
such wonderful eyes."

I'm not worried.

"George's practiced eye

"scanned the cozy, little table.

"All was ready for Candise.

"The trap was
baited with candles,

champagne and caviar."

(chuckles)

You like caviar, Miss Bradley?

Oh, I've never,
uh... turned it down.

I always serve my women
caviar and champagne.

You know, uh...

I've almost finished
half the book,

thanks to your efficiency.

I'm glad to have been
an inspiration to you.

Yes.

Oh, you're a very fine typist.

I wish I could take you to Paris

to work with me on my next book.

Oh, thank you!

My publisher asked me
to send as much as I could

as quickly as possible.

Uh, perhaps if you came
early tomorrow morning,

you could retype, uh...

Well, listen, if it's important,

I can come back
tonight and work.

Billie Jo, you're late.

Ah, the Cannonball
had boiler trouble.

Oh, well, sit down.
We haven't started yet.

Oh, I haven't got time. I have
to change and get back to town.

Oliver and I are
working late tonight.

Don't that worry you? No.

Billie Jo, you should
have some supper.

I'm having dinner with Oliver.

Wow.

You picked the right night.

We're having leftovers.

What are you having?

Oliver always serves his women

caviar and champagne.

Wow.

Well, c-couldn't you
do this work tomorrow?

When Oliver needs
me, I must go to him.

He told me I was
his inspiration!

He'd like to take me to Paris.

Au revoir.

I'm worried. I'm worried.

Mom, come on, unlock this door!

Oliver's expecting me!

Don't worry, one
of the Bradley girls

is going to keep
your dinner date.

Mom!

(banging continues)

Where's Oliver Fenton?!

I'm Oliver Fenton.

You're Ol...?

Where's your wavy hair?

Over there.

Mr. Fenton, you ought
to be ashamed of yourself!

Oh, why?

Lots of men wear them.

Not to try and
deceive young girls

into drinking caviar
and champagne,

so you can lure them to Paris!

Lure them?

Who are you, madam?

I'm Billie Jo's mother,
that's who I are... am!

Oh, well, now.

There's been a
misunderstanding, Mrs. Bradley.

Oh-ho, there certainly has.

And I'm here to
straighten it out.

Now, you may give all your other
women caviar and champagne,

but not my Billie Jo!

Now, hold it! Hold it!

There's your
champagne and caviar.

It's a ham sandwich
and a bottle of pop.

I got them for her at the diner.

Probably your supper!

Oh, I can't eat that stuff.

I've got ulcers.

And you are not
doing them any good.

What about Paris?

Billie Jo never lies to me,

and she said that you said...

All I said was, "She
was a very good typist,

and I wish I could
take her to Paris."

Aha! (gasps)

To type.

How come you got close
enough to her to sniff her perfume?

Sniff it?

I've got sinus trouble.

I've got high blood pressure.

I'm too old to play games.

The only thing that
I'm interested in chasing

is a sure cure for baldness.

Well, I must admit
that after seeing you,

you're not exactly
Billie Jo's type.

But why would she say
you said those things?!

Whatever she said I
said, I probably did say.

But she took them out of context

and made them sound romantic.

That's my Billie Jo.

Why don't we sit down
and talk this over calmly?

Well... Have you
had supper yet? No.

Well, be my guest.

And you've never eaten
caviar, Mrs. Bradley?

No.

All the women in
my books eat caviar.

Well, it doesn't
do anything for me

except make me thirsty.

Or maybe it was
the ham sandwich.

Ah! Some more mineral water?

No, thank you.

Do you like that stuff?

Well, they say it's
good for my ulcers.

Now, you were telling me

that when your
husband passed away

you were left with the
three girls and the hotel.

That's right.

What kind of, uh,
guests do you get?

Mostly traveling salesmen.

FENTON: Traveling salesmen, eh?

It's from New York!

Hurry up and open it up!

Come on, Mom! I'm
doing the best I can.

It's a book!

Yes. Ollie promised
to send me a copy.

Ollie? Oliver.

Oh, wow.

Woman With A Hotel.

Gosh, the book he dictated to me

wasn't about a hotel.

It wasn't?

There's something
written in here.

"To Kate Bradley,

"a woman with a story
that needed telling.

Affectionately, Ollie."

Mom, he wrote a book about you!

What is there to write about me?

"Stanley Markum
walked up the steps

"of the Leafy Bower Hotel

"and put down his sample case.

"Uncle Jonas creaked up

"from his favorite
rocker and said,

"'She's a-waiting for you, son"

"Stanley rushed into the lobby

"and there she was,
"Katherine Hadley.

"He took her in his arms

and kissed her ardently."

Mom! Mom!

Oh, it's not true!

None of it!

All I did was
tell him a little bit

about how I came to run a hotel,

and he turned on his
machine and his imagination.

Now, girls, let this
be a lesson to you.

When a man offers you
caviar and champagne,

you know what he's up to.

But look out for the one
that sneaks up on you

with a ham sandwich
and mineral water!

♪ Petticoat Junction. ♪

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