Petticoat Junction (1963–1970): Season 2, Episode 20 - For the Birds - full transcript

We've all heard
of bats in the belfry.

Well, the Cannonball's
got a similar problem

with a bird's nest
situated in the smokestack,

and you better believe
Homer Bedloe is right there

ready to manipulate the
situation to his best interest

by forcing the train
to cease operation.

This episode is appropriately
called "For The Birds."

(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)

A bird dog got a choice of
being a pointer or a retriever.

Now, which one
do you want to be?

(yawns)

Look, don't you
want to learn a trade?

Do you want to spend
the rest of your life

on the bottom rung of
the ladder of dogdom?

I didn't get where I am
sitting around wagging my tail,

bumming dog biscuits
and barking the train in.

(sneezes)

Now, which do you want to
be, a pointer or a retriever?

Pointer.

Okay.

Now, we'll imagine that
Wilbur here is a pheasant.

Now, this here is the
accepted procedure

of pheasant pointing.

Dog, which is you, sniffs
his way across the field.

(sniffing)

On getting the
pheasant in his scent,

he freezes to a point position,
making a human arrow of himself.

Nose pointed toward pheasant,
tail pointing straight out.

Now, don't move so
as not to alarm the bird.

No talking, no
scratching, no tail wagging.

Now, you got any
questions so far?

Just one.

Yeah? What is it?

Oh. Hi, Kate.

Would you mind telling
me what you're doing?

Just trying to teach
birdbrain here to be a bird dog.

(growling)

Uncle Joe, I thought I asked you

to get the handcar
and go into Hooterville

and find out where the
Cannonball's been all day.

Ah, there's nothing
wrong with it.

Well, maybe they had a wreck.

Goes too slow for
a worthwhile one.

Well, maybe-maybe the
wheels went off the track.

Wheels always roll
right back on the track.

Well, something happened
to it, and I'd like to find out.

Now, will you please put
the handcar on the tracks,

and let's take a
run into Hooterville?

What about the hunting lesson?

Well, the dog will give it
to you when we get back.

She's still here.

How's she look?

Kind of peaked.

You would, too, if you just
laid five little white eggs.

(whistling)

(chirping)

You think we ought to give
her a blanket or something?

Floyd, she don't need a blanket.

Or how about a
magazine to pass the time?

Leave her alone.

Okay.

If you want
anything, just chirp.

(chirping)

Here's the train.

I told you nothing's
happened to it.

What's that ladder
leaning against it for?

Probably to keep the
engine from tipping over.

Floyd!

Charlie!

What are you doing?

Of all the dumb mongrels.

You ain't supposed
to point words.

Un-point.

Now, go find a live bird.

Kate, will you look at
that untalented Airedale.

Pointing the locomotive.

Does that look like a live bird?

You need glasses.

(chuckles) Maybe he's
trying to tell you something.

Yeah, how stupid he is.

If I ever take him
hunting with me,

don't count on one
of us coming back.

He's a bad shot, too?

Put me down!

Come on, Doc!

I tell you, let go of me!

Hi, Kate.

Well, hi.

Somebody sick?

Yeah, it's these
two, right here.

They want me to make
a house call on a bird.

Huh?

Kate, guess what's
on the smokestack.

A condemn notice?

There is not.

There's a nest with
five little white eggs in it.

What?

Me and Charley's
gonna be fathers.

Well, congratulations.

Have a cigar.

Thanks.

Give me that.

See, Uncle Joe?

The dog did know
what he was pointing at.

(barking)

So you got lucky.

What are you waiting for, Doc?

Up the ladder.

Come on, I'll help you.

Oh, no, I'm not
climbing up any ladder.

Well, in her condition, we
can't take her to your office.

Wouldn't do any good, anyhow.

I don't take care of birds.

Well, what about that
Hippopotamus Oath

you doctors are
always taking on TV?

Hippopotam...?

If you can take care
of hippopotamuses,

you can take care of birds.

They're both the same
kind of different animals.

You must be referring
to the Hippocratic Oath.

Hippocratic!

Well, whatever
he's referring to,

you ought to live up to it.

Or else turn in your TV set.

You're a disgrace to it.

Now, boys, you're being
a little unreasonable.

Doc has all he can do to take
care of his people patients.

And birds ain't people.

They are to other birds.

And why does a bird
need a doctor, anyway?

No kids of mine's gonna be
borned into this world unattended.

If she just laid her eggs today,

they won't hatch for
more than two weeks.

Are you the doctor in this case?

No.

Then mind your own business.

Simmer down.

Fellas, I'm surprised at you.

Doc has never refused to
take care of anyone or anything,

as long as they
need taking care of.

We're sorry, Doc.

I guess we was a little edgy.

Yeah, it was quite a shock

to go out for lunch a bachelor
and come back a father.

(laughs)

I guess it would be.

Case of emergency, let me know.

I'll get here just
as fast as I can.

Thanks, Doc.

Hippopotamus Oath.

Hipp...

I don't see why in heck I didn't
go into my father's feed store.

You see?

Everything's gonna be fine.

Yeah, we'll get that
bird nest out of there,

and you can run us back on home.

We're not running the train.

What?!

It's gonna stay right here

until we hear the
patter of little feet.

(chirping)

"Hooterville Cannonball
Gets the Bird."

Morning, Mr. Bedloe.

Good morning, Evans!

How are you this morning?

You won't flog me, sir?

Flog you?

What's the matter with you?

The way you said,
"Good morning, Evans!"

You're in a horrible mood.

I'm in an excellent mood.

I found a new hobby.

Collecting antique thumbscrews?

Bird watching.

Here.

Read this.

Aloud.

"Homer Bedloe, the
genial and jovial manager

"of the C.& F.W. Railroad,
announced today that

"he's temporarily
suspending service

"on the company's
Hooterville Branchline

"pending the hatching of
five tiny little white eggs,

"which occupy a nest
on the smokestack of

the Branchline's crack train,
the Hooterville Cannonball."

(laughs)

"Crack train."

I'd like to meet the
moron who said that.

How do you do?

You mean, you?

Read on.

"Mr. Bedloe stated firmly,

'The train will not run until
the eggs have hatched.

Motherhood comes
before anything.'"

You should sue the
paper for misquoting you.

Why? That's what I said.

When I first heard
about the little mother,

I called the newspaper
and arranged to have them

send a photographer
to Hooterville

to make this picture.

But Mr. Bedloe...

Evans, how long have I been

trying to shut down the
Hooterville Cannonball?

It's been a lifelong project.

And have I been successful?

No.

What I haven't been
able to accomplish,

nature has.

Somebody down there likes me.

But sir, when the eggs hatch,

the Cannonball will roll again.

You know, Evans, when you
first came in here, I took a look

at you and I said, "There's
a young man who has

the makings of
a first-class fink."

You've been a great
disappointment to me.

I'm sorry, sir.

Can't your puny mind grasp

the sneaky elements
of this situation?

Why does a train run?

Well, you put coal in the
engine and that makes steam...

No, no, no.

A train runs because
it has a franchise

with the State
Railroad Commission.

Now, the franchise for the
Hooterville Branchline requires

that a train, that is an
engine and a coach...

That's all the miserable
equipment I have anyway...

Complete a round-trip run
between Hooterville and Pixley

at least once every two weeks
or else they cancel the franchise.

I see.

And since it takes two
weeks for the eggs to hatch...

I've already alerted Williams of
the State Railroad Commission.

(humming)

Hi, Mom.

Ooh, what's your hurry?

Well, Billie Jo's typing
up my English homework,

and I have to look up a
word in the dictionary. Ah.

Thanks. I'll
bring it right back.

Betty Jo!

Oh, my goodness.

Oh. (chuckles)

(groans)

Doggone bird.

(barking)

You drag it up. I
can't bend over.

(fabric ripping)

(back cracks)

Ooh.

Hi, Kate.

Uncle Joe!

What's the matter?

Well, would you get the book?

Kate, I was just getting
ready to read the paper.

My back's killing me.

You know how many
times I pumped that handcar

to Hooterville and back today?

Six.

All on account
of that stupid bird.

The book!

Ah, Kate.

50 Exercises To Do At Home.

You ought to do the
easy ones first, Kate.

Hi, Uncle Joe. Hi, Betty.

Thanks, Mom.

Those exercises will
do you a lot of good.

(slap)

(thud)

Where's the sack of flour

I asked you to bring
me home from Sam's?

Oh, the dog's bringing it.

What?!

For heaven's sakes!

Well, after pumping
that handcar,

I couldn't bend to pick it up.

Uncle Joe...

It's the bird's fault and
Charley and Floyd's.

They should know
better than to go away

and leave that
smokestack unguarded

with the air full of
flying motherhood.

I don't see why

they're so set against
moving that nest.

You can't. If you did,

the mother bird would
abandon the eggs.

Well, if she don't care
for 'em, why should we?

(sputtering cough)

Don't touch that.

I have to look up the
spelling of another word.

What word?

"Philatelist."

Philatelist? That's easy.

F-I-L-L...

Take the dictionary and
put this under the leg.

What's the matter with him?

That ain't a bird.

38 breeds of dog, and we have
to get stuck with this lunkhead.

Where's the dictionary?

Here.

Philatelist.

Mom, did you see this?

Philatelist...

KATE: It's the bird.

BETTY JO: And
there's a story about it.

What's it say?

I can't see it without my specs.

Here, I can.

It says, "Homer Bedloe is
shutting down the Branchline

"to give the eggs
a chance to hatch.

He's also in favor
of motherhood."

That doesn't sound
like Mr. Bedloe.

It's more like Homer
to have the bird arrested

for trespassing on
railroad property.

Yeah.

Or he's up to something.

Yeah, but what?

The usual. Shutting down
the Branchline forever

and putting the Shady
Rest out of business.

The same suspicious
Mrs. Bradley, eh?

Homer Bedloe.

What was he doing?

Pointing out a vulture.

Mrs. Bradley, how
are you? Girls?

We were fine till you walked in.

Now, Betty Jo, there's no need

to be impolite to Mr. Bedloe.

Uncle Joe and I
will take care of that.

Now what do you
want here, Homer?

A room.

We're all full up.

Since when?

Since you said
you wanted a room.

Since the railroad
isn't running,

I don't see why you're
oversupplied with guests.

Well, the only one
available's $700 a night.

That's without towels
and bathroom privileges.

KATE: If you want to see it,

I'll have the girls take the
mops and brooms out of it.

Aw, Mrs. Bradley,

there's no reason
for you to act like that.

I didn't come down
here to do you any harm.

Who did you come
down here to do harm to?

The birds and her eggs.

What have you got up
your sleeve, Mr. Bedloe?

Nothing, nothing.

It just isn't like you to be
in favor of motherhood.

Why not? I had a
mother once myself.

Did she ever come
forward and admit it?

Now look here, Carson, I
won't take that from you.

You know, Homer, we've
been playing dirty pool for years.

And it just comes
very hard for me

to swallow this story
you put in the paper.

It does, huh?

Yes, it does.

Would you believe
it if I told you

I don't care a hoot for
that bird or her little eggs?

Yes, I would.

Well, I admit it.

Personally, I hate birds

singing and tweeting,

laying their silly eggs
in inconvenient places.

But as an official of
the C.& F.W. Railroad,

I love that bird.

He's worth millions
to us in publicity.

A big giant railroad
grinding its wheels to a halt

to let a little bird give
birth to her young.

It's a new image we're
giving to the public:

"The railroad with a heart."

Uh...

I forgot to mail these
dismissal notices...

Mom, what do you think?

It makes sense.

I wouldn't trust him
within a ten-foot pole.

Me, either.

I said it makes sense.

I didn't say I trusted him.

Homer, you can have
your room if you want it,

but we're gonna be
watching you like a hawk

to make sure that
you don't do anything

to that little bird or her eggs.

Oh, believe me, Mrs. Bradley,

I'm more interested than you are

in not harming that little bird.

I want those eggs to hatch

no matter how long it takes.

(snoring)

Charley, Charley!

(snoring continues)

(harmonica notes playing
with inhale and exhale)

Uncle Joe, you're gonna
scare the mother bird!

(harmonica playing continues)

Hi, Kate, Hi, Uncle Joe.

Hi.

Hi, Floyd.

What is that?

It's Charley.

He's snoozin',
snori" and serenadin'.

CHARLEY: Floyd!

He'll be right out.

Floyd Smoot, did you...?

Hi, Kate. Hi, Joe.

Hi, Charley.

Uh, Uncle Joe and I
brought you your supper.

Oh, Kate, you been bringing us
our dinner every day for a week.

You don't have to.

She does, too.

You won't eat my cooking.

(chuckles)

Try some fried chicken.

Kate, you didn't bring along

any of them
hardboiled eggs, did ya?

No.

Good. I just can't eat
them hardboiled eggs

when she's looking at me.

Seems to upset her.

How is lady bird?

(mimics bird whistle)

(bird tweeting)

She says she's fine.

Has Bedloe been
around here today?

Yeah, twice.

Did he try anything?

CHARLEY: No,
he just straightened

that sign he put up and told us

not to worry about
the train not running.

Beats us, Kate.

Me, too.

But one thing
you can be sure of,

Homer Bedloe has some
dirty scheme cooking

in that double-dealing
mind of his.

(hushed): Come out here,
Williams! Come out here!

I don't want to be
overheard in there.

Bedloe, if you're using the State Railroad
Commission to do your dirty work...

HOMER: I'm doing the Railroad
Commission a great service.

You should have canceled the
franchise of the Cannonball years ago.

Bedloe, there's nothing the
matter with that little train.

I don't think you
have any right to try...

Williams, you're
a public official.

You're not paid to think.

Now the terms of the
franchise are crystal clear.

That train must make a round
trip once every two weeks.

One week has passed,
and it hasn't moved.

Another week,
and it'll never move.

(jaunty piano music plays)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Back to work, mama.

(indistinct conversation)

Oh, Betty Jo, look out!

What's the verdict, Doc?

Oh, about eight or nine
more days, I'd say, Kate.

Too long. They got to be
out and peeping in seven.

Isn't there any way
you can hurry them?

Betty Jo, I've been
doctoring for a long while,

and there's one thing
I've learned for sure.

Whether it's a baby
bird, a baby chick,

a baby pig or a baby baby, you
can't hurry them into this world.

Then I guess this is the
end of the Cannonball.

Why don't we just move the nest?

That'll be the end of the birds.

Well, which is more
important... the birds or the train?

That's for Charley
and Floyd to decide.

Well, the train's
mighty important to us.

Yeah, but so's our family.

We still got a whole week
to wait before next Tuesday.

Maybe by then...

Yeah, come on,
little mother, get hot.

Happy Tuesday
morning to all of you.

I take it there hasn't
been any action, eh?

Oh, you needn't feel so badly.

In another month's time
the rails will be gone,

and there'll be nothing
left of the Branchline

except a weed-covered
road bed from here to Pixley.

But think how it'll
beautify the countryside.

I'm sorry, folks.

There's nothing
to be sorry about.

It's their own
silly sentimentality

that made this possible
for my evil plan to triumph.

Love that bird.

Mr. Williams, isn't there
anything you can do?

I'd bend over backwards to help.

There's no way out.

The franchise clearly states
that an engine and coach

has to make a round-trip run
from here to Pixley every two weeks.

Two weeks will be up
in less than six hours.

An engine and coach, huh?

That's right, Mrs. Bradley.

Mr. Williams, start bending.

How much time we
got, Mr. Williams?

Just about a minute.

Love that little bird.

They've got to make it.

Here they come!

(mimics train whistle)

(clattering thud)

KATE: Did they make it?

WILLIAMS: By two seconds.

(cheering)

I protest, I protest! Quiet.

We almost didn't make it up
Bleeker's Hill coming out of Pixley.

Now see here, Williams. You're not
gonna let them get away with this, are you?

It's a coach.

The stagecoach that Lem Waller's
dad ran between here and Pixley,

long before the Cannonball.

You're lucky it's still
around. You're gonna need it

now that the Cannonball isn't
gonna be running anymore.

What do you mean?

The franchise clearly called

for an engine and a coach.

Well, where's the engine?

There it is.

Uncle Joe's wooden Injun.

Okay, Mr. Williams?

It's all right with me.

Now see here, Williams.

I'm gonna call the governor.

Yes, and while
you're doing that,

I'll call the newspapers
and tell 'em the truth

about the C.& F.W.,

the railroad with
a heart... of stone.

Well, you-you can't do that!

They'll fire me. I'll
lose my pension.

Nice Injun and coach, isn't it?

Nicest Injun I ever saw.

Love that bird?

Love that bird.

BETTY JO: Mom, Mom,
quick! Call the doctor!

♪ Petticoat Junction. ♪

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Filmways Presentation.