The Waltons (1971–1981): Season 5, Episode 11 - The Pony Cart - full transcript

Martha Corrine, Grandpa's sister in law, comes to the mountain to die. She helps Ben build a pony cart.

Well, now, now,
that's too much, now.

Oh, you can't put too much pepper
or sage in good Virginia sausage.

You know, she tries to
help, but, uh, she just butts in.

Well, now, does
everybody feel this way?

All I know is that
we haven't had

one moment's peace in this house

since she came here.

In my day, a man's
word meant something.

You told, didn't you?

In the summer of 1937

it seemed as if Walton's
Mountain was reborn.



The blue misted mountains,
the tall stands of evergreens

and the wild flowers
that grew everywhere

gave a fragrance to the
air and a spirit to the soul.

It was also the summer that
Martha Corinne Walton came to visit

and that made it a
summer to remember.

Martha Corinne, I hope you'll stay
long enough to meet my husband Curt.

He's a doctor. Dr. Willard.

Well, I hope I do.

Where... Where is he tonight?

He's out seeing some
folks in the backwoods.

Well, that's fitting.

It's been a long spell,

since I've had a supper
as good as this one

and kinfolk to share it with.



What about Boone and Wade?

Don't they come
and visit you often?

Oh, Boone's off in the
mountain making moonshine

and Wade and Vera,
they got their family

and their own lives to live.

Must get awfully lonely,

being all by yourself.

It does sometimes.

Ben, do you know,

what became of my big suitcase?

It's in the living room.

Well, bring it to me, will you?

Sure.

How long are you going to be
able to stay with us, Martha Corinne?

Oh, till you get tired of me.

Or I get tired of you.

Here you go.

Put it right here.

I...

I brought a little something
for the each of you.

Now my big problem's going to be

remembering which
name goes with which face.

Jim-Bob used to
be little and skinny.

Yes, ma'am.

Don't call me ma'am.

It makes me sound old.
Call me Martha Corinne.

This is for you.

Thank you.

And one for Jason. Thank you.

And one for Ben.

Oh, thank you.

And those go with the ones that
you found up in the mountains.

Arrowheads.

They'll be worth a lot
of money someday.

Thank you. Elizabeth...

That's a nice one, Son.

And Erin.

Right here.

Those are for you.

Well, thank you.
They're soft inside.

They are? JASON:
These are pretty.

Yeah. Mary Ellen, would
you help me with this?

Just look at this one.

Oh, my goodness!

That's for your new life.

That'll last you a
hundred years, at least,

then you can pass
it on to your children.

Oh, it's just
beautiful, thank you.

It is. It's really nice.
Let me see, Mary Ellen.

Look. Zeb.

Uh-huh.

For me?

They're the good ones, huh?

This is for you. It was Henry's.

And his favorite
soap is still in there.

It's about the only
thing of his I got left.

I'll treasure it always,
Martha Corinne.

Esther,

I crocheted this
bedspread for you.

Like I said, thank you.

And, John, I remember you
complimenting my pickled peaches.

So I put some up,
just the way you like it.

Oh, good!

Lots of cloves.

Thank you.

Stop thanking me, or
we'll be here all night.

Olivia, this is a shawl.

My mama crocheted
every stitch of it

and gave it to me
on my wedding day.

I want you to have it.

It's just beautiful,
Martha Corinne.

I shouldn't take it
but I will, thank you.

John-Boy.

I thought you might like these.

Well, thank you.

Oh, look at that.

That's Henry and me,

taken by a traveling
picture-taker

in 1868.

I was pretty, then, wasn't I?

Mmm-hmm.

And that's... that's Boone,

taken when he was a baby.

Grandpa?

- And...
- Who's this, now?

Zeb and Henry's mama and papa,

taken on their wedding day.

My great-grandpa and grandma.

They most surely were.

They was the first
Waltons in Virginia.

This is the most
important of all.

Who is that?

This is Henry.

It was taken when he
was in the Civil War,

just before he lost his arm.

It was taken by Mathew Brady.

Martha Corinne, are you sure
you want to give these away?

Of course, I am.
Otherwise I wouldn't do it.

Now I'm tired.

Have you a place for
me to sleep tonight?

Well, you stay in my room. I'll
sleep in The Chronicle office, all right?

Oh, no! If anybody
sleeps in the office, I do.

You certainly will not.

You're going to have your
own bed right here in this house.

I don't want to cause
anybody any inconvenience.

It's no trouble, really.

Well, I'm too tired to argue.

You show me where to go.

Good night.

Thank you.

Good morning.

Why ain't you in school?

Well, it's Saturday.

Never was one to
keep track of the days.

Where did you get this?

Well, I got it from
Mr. Monroe down the road.

Gave him $2 for it.

I had one of these
when I was a little girl.

Prettiest shay in the country.

Prettiest what?

Shay. What do you call it?

Well, it's a pony cart.

Shay's got a nicer sound to it.

Good morning, Martha Corinne.

Oh, it is a handsome day.

Did you sleep well
upstairs last night?

Oh, tolerable.

Not as well as I do at home
on my corn husk mattress.

What are you making there?

Oh, these here, they are spokes

for the wheels on
Ben's pony cart.

Oh, we used to hone
them down by hand.

Mmm-hmm.

Too spindly.

Hmm?

Ought to be fatter.

See there, it fits.

Well, just 'cause it
fits don't mean it's right.

Wheel gets the most work

and it needs a
good sturdy spoke.

Another eighth of
an inch ought to do it.

Never yet seen a slab of pine

that didn't splinter to
pieces when you nailed it.

Pine wood is soft.

Well, makes you wonder
if it's worth the cutting.

It sells.

That's 'cause most folks
don't know the difference.

Oak's the best.

Couldn't agree with you more.

Well, then, why
are you selling pine?

It's all people can afford.

Why can't they afford oak?

Costs more to cut.

Grows a ways out,
I have to haul it in,

I have to charge more.

Maple is another
one of my favorites.

I suppose you have to
charge more for it, too.

Have to.

Oh.

Makes a body wonder

what ever happened to quality?

I've come in to help.

We're doing just
fine, Martha Corinne.

Why don't you rest?
Oh, I'm tired of resting.

I'm used to keeping busy.

Esther?

Well, you can mix the sausage

while I cut up the vegetables.

Well, how much
sage did you put in it?

One tablespoon.

Pepper?

Like I always do, two parts.

Oh, that's not enough.

Well, now, now,
that's too much, now.

Oh, you can't put too much pepper
or sage in good Virginia sausage.

It's supposed to be spicy enough

to make your eyes water
and the sweat pop out.

Won't be fit to eat. Shh.

Can't you sit down
and eat, John-Boy?

Mama, I got no time.

I'll make myself a
sausage sandwich

because I want the new
edition to be delivered tomorrow.

Oh, that's the best sausage
sandwich I ever ate in my life.

I'm going to have me
another one of those.

Boy, I'll be the
only one in school

who knows how to spin wool.

Well, I promised
that I'd teach you how.

That music sounds strange to me.

Anybody got some
kind of a name for it?

It's called swing,
Martha Corinne.

Music nowadays, Martha Corinne,

is a whole lot different
from what it was in our day.

Our day?

Your music was different
from what we had in my day.

Well, I like it.

So do I.

Someday I'm going to
have a band just like that.

Now pay attention
to what you're doing.

What time is it?

It's five after 7:00, Erin.

Tommy's late.

He said he'd be here at 7:00.

How do I look? JASON: Snazzy.

Mama, will you fix
my bow, please?

My land, you look so pretty, Erin,
you have to watch out for those boys.

They be buzzin'
around you tonight.

Grandpa!

Eighteen year old
boys aren't to be trusted,

especially if they're
from Buckingham County.

I use to favor the
boys from Buckingham.

They could dance all night,

if the orchestra
lasted that long.

Livie, you should set a
time for her to get home.

I trust Erin to take
care of herself.

As long as you're
back by 10:30, I mean.

Okay, Mama.

Can I borrow the shawl that
Martha Corinne gave you?

I think you best ask her.

Please?

Oh, don't ask me, I
gave it to your mama.

Mama?

Thank you.

I'll know you'll
be careful of it.

I will.

What time is it now?

It's seven after 7:00.

Well, maybe he got lost.

Oh, there he is. Mama, hurry!

Erin, you go upstairs
to your room and wait.

Why?

Now, you heard me, go.

But he's waiting.

Not only is he late,

he's not even polite
enough to come to the door.

Now you go upstairs
and wait him out.

But he's waiting for me.

You heard me.

He'll leave without
me. I just know he will.

And don't come down
until you're called.

Mama, Tommy's here and Martha
Corinne made me come upstairs.

Why?

Well, she doesn't think
honking in front is polite.

She's quite right.

Well, it's none of her business.

She has no right
telling me what to do.

Erin, just put up
with it for now.

She won't be here
long. How long?

Jim-Bob, I'll get it.

Hello.

Evening.

I'm Tom Wheeler.
Is Erin ready to go?

I'm Martha Corinne Walton.

Come in.

Well, we're late. We
really ought to be going.

Well, Erin isn't ready yet.

Come on in the house.

You know everyone? Yes, ma'am.

Evening. Hi, guys. JASON: Tom.

We've been listening to swing.

Oh. Sit.

We're pretty late.

There.

Now, tell me about yourself.

Mama, she's going
to ruin everything.

I doubt it. How do you like it?

Go down there and tell her.
Tell her to stop meddling.

Erin, be patient with her.

What's she doing down there?

Oh, my daddy didn't
just give me the car,

I had to work for it.

Well, that's the proper way.

Who did you work for?

Oh, for him. And he pays me
the same as any of our hired men.

Every Saturday, I
go down to the plant

and take inventory.

Inventory? That sounds
like a very important job.

Keeping track of everything?

Oh, yes, ma'am.

That's past my head.

It seems to me

that I heard about
some Wheelers,

lived over in Buckingham County.

Yes, ma'am, that's probably us.

We own the biggest
tobacco warehouse around.

Well, I'll see if
Erin's ready yet.

Erin, your young man's here.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

Oh, you're worth waiting for.

Very nice to meet
you, Mrs. Walton.

Thank you.

Now, you be sure and
bring her back by 10:30.

Yes, ma'am.

Good night.

Good night. Good night.

What do you think?

Oh.

I suppose it's all right,

if you're interested in
somebody named Joe Di...

DiMaggio.

Hitting baseballs
for those Yankees.

I suppose it's interesting.

But to a lot of people
it is interesting.

Well, I guess it's
good to keep up to date

for what's happening
up there in New York.

But it just seems to me

that you can tell all
that in one little place,

and then use the rest for
what's happening right here

where everybody lives.

Well, unfortunately,
Martha Corinne,

I think most people would
find that kind of dull reading.

Well, you're the writer,

and it's up to you to
make it interesting.

Watch the dowels.

Hey, they're working good.

Well, you're getting
along pretty well. Yeah.

But I'll tell you what I think.

I think that the
seats are too high.

And I think that this
is too low, right here.

Hardly been able to set foot in
the kitchen since she came here.

Well, I don't care much
whether she hears me or not.

Grandma.

She's always telling
me what to do, too.

Elizabeth.

Well, she does.

Come on, now, it's time for bed.

Come on.

Say good night.
Good night, Mommy.

Good night, Grandma.

Good night,
everybody. Good night.

Good night.

Hey, everybody.

Hey, John-Boy.

Did you put the paper to bed?

All finished.

Did you print what I gave you?

What was that?

Just... Just some little items.

I wrote up some of my recipes

for John-Boy to print
in his newspaper.

And I gave him my sausage recipe

and my breaded veal cutlet

along with red-eye
gravy and grits.

I didn't know you were
running a recipe column.

Well, it... it...

We don't ordinarily do that.

It's just that Martha
Corinne felt that

it would be of
interest to the readers.

Well, it's my bedtime.
Good night, everybody.

Good night.

Mine, too, I got some work.

Work on some recipes, no doubt.

Grandma, I got myself into a
situation where I couldn't say no.

Well, you said no
to me easy enough.

Good night.

Grandma, he couldn't help it.

You know how Martha Corinne is.

Meddlesome.

You know, she tries to
help, but, uh, she just butts in.

Well, now, does
everybody feel this way?

I do. Afraid so.

She's old and
lonely and I like her.

So do I, Jim-Bob.

Mama, how long
is she going to stay?

I don't know.

All I know is that
we haven't had

one moment's peace in this house

since she came here.

You didn't put an
eye in that one.

Oh, you startled me.

I didn't mean to.

Well, it certainly is a
glorious day, isn't it?

Oh.

When I lived up on
Blue Rock Creek,

days like this
were to glory and...

Down here nothing's the same.

Things are changing
too fast now.

I guess maybe I'm getting
too old to change with them.

I'm more or less
living in the past.

Some things in the past are worth
remembering and keeping the same.

You got room for
another, right in there.

Well, Martha Corinne,

your visit has certainly
been a pleasant one.

I always feel that it's...

It's good for families

to get together for a
while, now and then.

Yes.

We used to have
gatherings in the old days.

Usually at Christmas
and Easter time and such.

I remember the womenfolk
used to be in the kitchen,

cooking up everything
they could think of

and gossiping to beat the band.

And the men, they'd
be out behind the shed,

having a swig or two.

Pitching horseshoes and...

Or just swapping stories.

I guess you miss those times.

I miss the people.

They're all gone now.

This thing about getting old...

Of course, you're
a whole lot smarter.

But the sad thing
is to see your kin

and your friends go, one by one.

That's the hardest part of all.

As you say, Olivia, it's
been a real nice visit,

and I thank you for everything.

Do you suppose

John-Boy would mind driving me

back to Brightwood
in his automobile?

Of course not.

Well, I think I'd
better get back

before my own
garden withers away.

So, I'll go pack my plunder.

Just beautiful.

I was saying it's
such a beautiful day.

It is that.

I want to thank you
again for those pictures.

Oh, you're more than
welcome, John-Boy.

I hope that you'll find a
use for them someday.

John-Boy, are you
in an all-fired hurry?

Not particularly, why?

Well, you see
that fork up there?

Uh, would you mind
taking the left one?

Not the road to Brightwood.

I'd kind of like to visit
the old home place again.

Blue Rock Creek, sure.

Oh.

This log was the one that
was out of the kitchen wall.

Henry and me cut
every one of them,

and we built the cabin
with our own hands.

And we fitted each one to
the other with love and care.

John-Boy,

I can stand here
and I can hear Henry

laughing with that big
booming voice of his.

Me standing alongside.

I can hear my babies crying.

Boone,

and little Henry,
who lived less than

two weeks.

Over here was the veranda

where we'd sit every
evening listening.

Listening to the creek
and the night birds calling.

There were skeeters,

and to get rid of them,

Henry use to smoke that
awful smelling tobacco of his.

Oh, and how I'd complain.

What I wouldn't give to get
a whiff of that tobacco now.

Oh, well, come along.

Neglected graves
are a shameful thing.

Martha Corinne, how did
you all come to settle out here?

Seems to be so far
away from everything else.

The Waltons and the Tylers,

that was my maiden
name before Henry,

ever seemed always be looking
for a place to rest where it was quiet.

Zeb's and Henry's father,

Samuel Walton, he'd
come over from England

in 1810.

He came over on a
boat they called a whaler.

Did you know him?

Lordy, yes.

I used to sit by the fireside

listening to him tell
stories by the hour.

What sort of man was he?

Oh, he was a rascal,

to hear him tell about it.

According to him,
his younger years...

Well, it was just one
adventure after another.

Would you like I write this
all down for you, John-Boy?

It's just that I like to
know as much as I can

about the roots of the family.

Roots. Roots,
that's a good word.

Everybody's got a family tree

and just to know
how the roots grew,

well, that gives you a
sense of who you are.

Oh, there's lots of things

I could tell you
about your stock.

When I get home,

I'll start writing it
all down for you.

Are you all right?

Take a deep breath. Can
you take a deep breath?

Water. Down by the creek.

Is it all right to leave you?

I'll be right back.

Here, now drink this.

Take it easy. Don't go too fast.

You want some more?

Best tasting water
in the country.

Even with the rust.

Okay, I want you to
stay right here and rest.

Well, for a minute or two.

It's just a little
indigestion, that's all.

It's your heart, isn't it?

There's nothing
the matter with me.

I think I understand
why you come to visit us

and how come you wanted to give away
so many things that meant so much to you.

There's no truth to that at all.

Now you take me home.

I'm gonna take you
to see Dr. Willard.

I've already been to the doctor.

What did he say?

I'm 90 years old.

I'm wore out.

Martha Corinne,
how many of these...

Of these attacks
have you had already?

I... I don't keep track.

How many?

Well, a few.

But if you tell anyone...

I can't keep something
like this a secret.

I'm gonna take you
back to our house.

No!

I've got too much pride
to go back there with you.

You can't stay alone anymore.

Well, I've already
said my good-byes.

And to go back and face
them all would be humiliating.

Will you do something
for me, John-Boy?

What?

Will you see to it that I'm
buried right there next to Henry?

When the time comes for that.

Today, tomorrow or next year,

will you see to it?

I'll see to it.

Come on, let's get
in the car, all right?

Oh, wait a minute.

And you'll take
me to Brightwood.

No. Walton's Mountain.

No.

Okay, look, I'll
tell you what I'll do.

I'll take you back
to your house.

If I do that, I've gotta go home
and tell my folks that you're sick.

The minute I tell them that,

they're gonna be knocking at your
door, wanting to take care of you.

I'd hate to be as
stubborn as you are.

All right, I'll go.

But you've got to
promise that you won't tell.

Okay.

Must be John-Boy.

John-Boy, what happened today?

What happened about what?

Martha Corinne. You
started to take her home.

Well, we got as far
as the fork in the road

and then she decided she
wanted to go up to Blue Rock Creek,

see the old place.
So I took her up there.

Why did you bring her back here?

Mama, she's lonely.

And I know she's old
and she's set in her ways,

but she doesn't do anything
to bother anybody on purpose.

I know that.

Well, that's it.

Are you sure? Mmm-hmm.

Esther, your soup was delicious.

Thank you.

It was the butter beans

that gave it the good flavor.

Did you raise them yourself?

I did.

Well, having your own
garden and picking things fresh

is what makes the difference.

Mom, is it all right if I
go work on my pony cart?

Shay.

Don't stay out there too long.

I won't.

If you two think you can manage,

I think I'll go out and
work with him a bit.

Think we can manage, Livie?

You know, I bet I'll get

$15 for this thing
when it's done.

Now that's turning
a right smart profit.

Shame they don't
make these no more.

I'm sure glad they don't.

I wouldn't be getting
$15 for this one.

I sure had my share
of fun in the one we had

when I was a girl.

You needn't look
at me like that.

I was as young as you are once.

'Course it was about
the time of the Flood.

What color paint
you got around here?

Gray.

Gray's only good for hair.

I'll make you a deal.

I don't think I'm gonna like it.

When we get this
all put together,

I'll paint it up like they
did in the olden times.

And then if you don't like it,

you can paint it all
over with your gray.

Fair enough?

I guess.

Good.

Now, where did she
put that frying pan?

Livie!

Don't say it.

Look, I don't know if I can
stand her here much longer.

Grandma, do you
always have to complain?

I have a good reason.

And I don't need
you harping at me.

I'm sorry.

What's gotten into him?

I don't know.

John-Boy, what's wrong with you?

You've never spoken
to your grandma like that.

I said I was sorry.

I think it's time you told
me what's bothering you.

There's more to your bringing
Martha Corinne back here

than just her being lonely.

This family does not keep
secrets from each other, John-Boy.

You're holding something back.

It's about Martha Corinne.

What is it? I want
to know right now.

She's been having heart attacks.

That's why she came
here in the first place.

Because she didn't want
to die all alone in that house.

Martha Corinne,
why don't you rest?

'Cause I'd rather
do what I'm doing.

Martha Corinne, you
let me do that. No.

Oh, Martha Corinne, how about
a nice cold glass of buttermilk?

No. Thank you, Esther.

It'll spoil my supper.

Little... Little taste, huh?

No!

Martha.

Where's John-Boy?

In my day, a man's
word meant something.

You told, didn't you?

Yes, ma'am, I did.

My mother figured out
something was wrong. I'm sorry.

And now they're
all looking at me.

When they don't
think I'm looking,

waiting for me to drop dead

so they can pick me
up before I hit the floor.

They're concerned for you.

Well, they can be concerned
about something else.

I don't want to be
dead before I die.

All right, I'll take
you back home,

if that's what you want.

Not until I help
Ben finish that shay.

What's this?

I wrote down some of the history
of the Waltons and the Tylers.

Not all of it,

but most of the
begats are there.

Goes all the way
back from England.

Tells what kind of
blood you got in you.

Of course, there's some
you might not want to brag on.

More than likely
it's from that line

that you get your
ability to break promises.

I still say the spokes
are too spindly.

Easy now, Ben.

That's a beauty!

Good job, Ben. Thank you, Pa.

Oh, the saw!

Ben, can I have the first ride?

No, you can't.

But you can pick the
one that's gonna be first.

But I want to
have the first ride.

You're gonna be second.
Now close your eyes.

Okay, I'm gonna turn
you around and around

and the first person you pick
is gonna be the first, okay?

I knew it was gonna
be you. I peeked.

Well, you're first. Here we go.

Martha Corrine!

Zeb.

We got a camera I
borrowed from Ike.

I want to take a family picture.

Oh.

Grandpa, let me take
it. You ought to be in it.

No, I'll take this, and
you can take another.

All right.

Stand still there
now. Everybody.

Grandma, I can't
see over your hat.

Jim-Bob, stop making faces.

I can't help it. That's
just the way I am.

Hold it still.

Watch the birdie.

All right, my turn.

Out of the way.

Your hat, Pa.

All right, everybody ready?

Smile.

Come on, let's go.

Have a nice ride. Have fun.

Bye!

Don't go over
five miles an hour.

Ben, I couldn't ask

for a smoother and
more comfortable ride.

You know, I never
thought I'd tell you this,

but you're a
pretty fine painter.

Pull over there.

What?

Pull over.

I want to get out.

Whoa, whoa.

I'm gonna pick some daisies.

You go on and test it out.

Okay.

The summer of 1937 was
a summer to remember

because it was the summer
that Martha Corinne came to visit.

She was buried on the
mountain next to Henry,

and the graves were never
again overgrown with weeds,

because as she said,

"Neglected graves
are a shameful thing."

Ben never sold the pony cart.

He kept it as a sort of
legacy for Martha Corinne.

But perhaps the most
important legacy of all

was the one Martha
Corinne gave to me.

Are you asleep yet, John-Boy?

Not yet, Elizabeth.

What are you doing? Writing.

What are you writing?

A new beginning for my book.

What is it?

It's the history of the Waltons
that Martha Corinne gave me.

That's what's been wrong
with the book all the time.

It didn't have a beginning.

Now it does.

I'm glad. So am I.

Good night, Elizabeth.
Good night, John-Boy.

Sleep good.