Mayberry Mondays #12: “Miss Farmerette” (12/23/68, prod. no. 0116)

This week on Mayberry Mondays, we’re going to take the WABAC machine to a simpler time—a time when county fairs offered up carnival rides, funnel cakes, and jams and jellies to be judged…along with prized livestock and other animals. I’m sure everyone remembers these events from their youth—in my hometown of Ravenswood, WV we looked forward to the Ohio River Festival every summer and the Jackson County Fair as well. But I’ve just recently learned that the Ohio River Festival folded up its tent long, long ago, and the Jackson County soiree has been downsized to the Jackson County Junior Fair. (Apparently Thomas Wolfe was right about not going home again.)

So allow me to indulge in a little nostalgic fondness for my youth by living vicariously through the experiences of the gang from Mayberry as they watch some mutt walk a tightrope. (It’s a little hard to tell from this screen cap, but the man putting Fido through his paces is none other than rubber-limbed second banana Gil Lamb.)

County clerk Howard Sprague (Jack Dodson) and village idiot Goober Pyle (George Lindsey) watch this spectacle with all the concentration of two yokels mesmerized by the antics of a trained dog…

GOOBER: Hey, that is neat…
HOWARD: Oh, yeah…it sure was…
GOOBER: You know, I didn’t know dogs was so smart…
HOWARD: Well, I imagine some dogs are smarter than some people…
GOOBER (taking offense): Watch it, Howard…

Goober asks Howard what kind of dog it is and a bystander—veteran character fave Ned Glass—replies that it’s a “shmendel terrier.” (I think he made that up.) During the course of this brief revelation, the bystander confesses that he’s the man responsible for booking the act (known as “Carl Conover and his Captivating Canines”)…which leaves Howard visibly impressed. “Then you’re in show biz, huh?” he asks the man, who responds wearily in the affirmative. The pooches close out their segment with a grand finale in which they spin around on a makeshift merry-go-round to the accompaniment of patriotic music. “Tell that terrier I thought he stole the show,” Goober says to the bystander as he gets ready to leave. “He’ll be thrilled to hear it,” is his sarcastic reply.

Mayberry council head and poor-but-honest dirt farmer Sam Jones (Ken Berry) is acting as master of ceremonies…and though it may be a bit untoward of me to point out that the dogs got a bigger reception than he did, I pretty much have to mine for laughs wherever possible. Sam is on hand to present the nominees for the coveted title of “Miss Farmerette”—but first, we’ll be entertained with an accordion interlude of Lady of Spain from “Little” Georgie McDermott. Backstage, the agent (who we later learn answers to “Roscoe March”) is paying Conover for his performance, and the “dog man” is a little put out by what he feels is “chicken feed” for an artist of his stature…

CONOVER: You know, a year ago you were getting me seventy-five…
ROSCOE: Look, fifty is the top dollar for a dog act these days…
CONOVER (scolding a dog who’s at his feet): Will you cut it out! (To Roscoe) You know, I just might get myself another agent…
ROSCOE: You threatening me?
CONOVER: Mm-hmm…
ROSCOE: Look, being an agent for dog acts and magicians is only a temporary thing with me…
CONOVER: Yeah…twenty years temporary…
ROSCOE: All I need is one break and I’ll be right back in Hollywood at the top again! I still got connections out there…

Roscoe March…Cecil B. DeMille is on line three. (Seriously, where does the guy with the lame dog act get off mocking his agent’s job?) Well, with the stirring accordion sounds of “Polka Man” McDermott coming to a close, Sam reenters on stage: “And now, ladies and gentlemen…the moment you’ve all been waiting for…the crowning of ‘Miss Farmerette’—this year’s queen of the county fair!” Sam explains that the judges had a difficult time choosing a winner this year—“We really grow ‘em pretty in this part of the country!” Goober and Howard are again on the sidelines, nudging each other because they have the inside track on who will be wearing the coveted tiara that came direct from the display case at Weaver’s department store…

Hooray! It’s Millie Swanson (Arlene Golonka), Miss Cheese Danish of 1968! Surrounded by a “Queen’s court” of scantily clad females who look as if they just walked off the set of Hee Haw, Millie walks out to tumultuous applause. “She’s the prettiest lookin’ Miss Farmerette we’ve had in fifteen years,” Goober affirmatively states. “Oh, yeah…she’s a cutie, all right,” Howard leers in agreement. (Down, boy.) But stop and think about this for a second…the girlfriend of the County Fair M.C. has just nabbed the title of Miss Farmerette (which entitles her to all the butter and eggs she can eat) and no one seems concerned as to whether this pageant is on the up-and-up?

Anyway, Roscoe rejoins Goober and Howard…and he can’t help but be captivated by Millie’s…er…um…huge tracts of land:

ROSCOE: Say, who’s that?
HOWARD: Millie Swanson…
GOOBER: Prettiest girl in the county…
ROSCOE: Prettiest girl in a lot of places…
SAM (on stage): Would you care to address your subjects, Miss Farmerette?
MILLIE: I…I…I hardly know what to say…I…I’ve never been a Miss Anything before…except Miss Swanson…

Well, Millicent—as long as you stay away from the subject of gay marriage, your year-long reign should be a happy and prosperous one. As Millie continues with her spiel, Roscoe is offstage doing the ol’ “camera viewfinder” bit with his hands—he is clearly captivated by the beatific charms of Mayberry’s newest inductee into royalty, and expresses his approval by muttering “Beverly Bennett.” (Beverly who?)

The scene dissolves to that bustling hub of activity in Mayberry, the quaint little shop of the town’s resident fix-it savant, Emmett Clark (Paul Hartman). Goober and Howard regale their buddy with tales of the county fair, bragging that in addition to Millie’s capturing the Farmerette crown, Cal Henderson took home a blue ribbon for his pig. “Cal Henderson?” scoffs Emmett. “Must have been fixed…that pig don’t deserve a blue ribbon no more than I do.” (Emmett, you’re never going to bring home that prize for idiocy as long as Goober remains your chief competition.)

Agent Roscoe enters the shop, and gets a hearty meet-and-greet from the other three—with Goober informing Emmett that Roscoe is “the dog man.” “They told me I’d find you fellas hanging out here,” Roscoe says, reiterating an observation that I’ve been hammering home in this feature since practically Day One. (The whole town realizes these clowns don’t do any work!)

HOWARD: Welcome to Mayberry!
ROSCOE: You sure keep this town a secret…it took me all morning to find it…
GOOBER: Well…if you’re lookin’ for dogs, try Jake Barnes…but be careful, he bites… (After a beat) Not Jake…his dog… (He laughs in that lovable idiot way that his friends have come to know and cringe at the thought of…)

Roscoe isn’t here to revel in Goob’s rib-tickling repartee; he’s looking for Millie, and Howard informs him that since it’s Millie’s half-day at the bakery she’ll probably show up at the diner around five. (Yes, it would appear that he’s stalking her. It's a damn good thing Facebook wasn't invented yet.) Goober wants to know if Roscoe’s inquiry has anything to do with the fact that he’s in show biz:

ROSCOE: Yeah, real show biz…I didn’t always used to book dog acts, you know…I used to be a big Hollywood agent…
HOWARD: A Hollywood agent?
ROSCOE: Yeah…
HOWARD:Wow!
ROSCOE: As a matter of fact, I’m the one who discovered Beverly Bennett…
HOWARD: Beverly Bennett…we were wondering why you mentioned her yesterday…
GOOBER: Then you’re connected with the movies! (Seriously) Have you got any free tickets?
EMMETT: Goober…
ROSCOE: No, the reason I’m looking for Millie is…if I’m any judge of personalities, she could be another Beverly Bennett…

Kid…you’re going out there to hawk coffee cakes…but you’re coming back a star! Roscoe announces that he’ll wait for Millie to show up at the diner, and when he departs, Goober and Howard are ecstatic at the thought of Millie becoming a movie star…even to the point of starting a Millie Swanson Fan Club, an organization for which Goob quickly claims the presidency “’cause I thought of it.” Emmett, it would appear, is a bit more down-to-earth about the situation…

GOOBER: What’s the matter with you?
EMMETT: I’m against the whole thing…
GOOBER: Against it?
HOWARD: Well, how come?
GOOBER: What’s the matter?
EMMETT: Listen…it’s not all stardust and manly music out there…there’s a broken heart for every one of those bright lights…
HOWARD (acting the know-it-all): I believe that pertains to Broadway, Emmett…

Oh, give him a break, Howard…it’s not often that Emmett is the voice of reason around this burg…anyway, he tells his two comrades that he hopes Millie will tell Roscoe “no”—and in a jump cut, she does just that…but only because she’s not convinced she has the “right stuff.” Now, whether Roscoe actually was an agent scarcely matters because he certainly acts like an agent, and he nudges Millie in the direction of stardom and fame with the agent's best friend...a line of bullsh*t…

ROSCOE: I’ll make you a star…
MILLIE (giddily): That’s very flattering, Mr. March…but things like that just don’t happen to people like me…becoming a movie star…I’m…I’m just a girl who works in a bakery…
ROSCOE: So what…you know where Beverly Bennett was when I first found her? In a laundry, running a mangle…and I guarantee I can make you as big as she was…bigger…I’m a star maker, you understand? I did it once and I can do it again…and you’re the one I can do it with, Millie—whaddya say?

Maybe I’m talking out of turn here, but it would appear that this is becoming more about Roscoe than Millie…Millie is still hesitant, so Roscoe resorts to pulling out the “Frank Springer” card…

ROSCOE: Ever hear the name Frank Springer?
SAM: Frank Springer? Yeah, he’s one of those producers, isn’t he?
ROSCOE: You bet he is…and I got him a star years ago…Frank never forgot…
SAM: Well…what makes you think this Frank Springer would be interested in Millie? (Millie slaps the table at this insult) Well, you know what I mean…I mean…he must see hundreds of girls…
ROSCOE: Because he trusts my judgment, that’s why…how many times he told me, “Roscoe, sweetheart…I’m just waitin’ for you to come up with another Beverly Bennett…just waitin’…”

Howard enters the diner at this point of the conversation, playfully singing You Ought to Be in Pictures and prattling on to Millie about “getting a percentage of the gross.” “That’s the way they talk out there in Movieland…right, Roscoe?” he asks March…who tells him in the politest way possible to hit the f**king bricks because they’re in the middle of a “business conference.” Millie’s mind is made up—her feet are planted firmly enough on the ground to realize that this is all just fodder for a twenty-five minute sitcom, and she rebuffs Roscoe’s cajoling:

HOWARD: Well, now I don’t want to horn in here, but…
ROSCOE (as he pats the seat in the booth beside him): Go ahead…horn…horn!
HOWARD (sitting down): Well…the way I see it, you’d be passing up…well…you’d be defying the aims of Kismet…
MILLIE: But I’m not an actress…I wouldn’t even know where to begin…
ROSCOE: Well, that’s easy…we shoot a screen test of you, and I send it out to my friend Frank…will you go along with me that far?

Don’t do it, Millie…honest to my grandma, I swear I can hear that “bow-chicka-wow-wow” music in the background. Millie asks Sam for counsel, and he tells her that she doesn’t have a lot to lose on that score…with Howard concurring. Unfortunately, Roscoe then brings up monetary matters…it will cost a few fins for a screen test…

SAM: Well…I guess that ends that…
ROSCOE: Wait a minute…wait a minute…let me think where I can raise some dough…
HOWARD (quietly clearing his throat): Uh…I have some film of Millie…

Why am I not surprised by this revelation? (Bow-chicka-wow-wow…)

HOWARD: Well, you remember—that barbecue party we had? I took some home movies…Millie’s in it…
MILLIE: Oh, Howard…you can’t send that to Hollywood…they’re just home movies…
HOWARD: Well, I thought they were rather professionally done myself…I took pan shots and everything…

(Bow-chicka-wow-wow…) In the next scene, a studio executive (Warren Parker) who goes by the name of…Frank Springer…is watching Millie via Howard’s amateur cinematic opus, entitled I Am Curious, Eclair (bow-chicka-wow-wow…)…now cut that out!

SPRINGER: Who sent this to us?
LACKEY: Roscoe March, Mr. Springer…
SPRINGER: Good ol’ Roscoe… (He presses a buzzer beside him, and the lights come up)
LACKEY: Well, what do you think?
SPRINGER: I don’t know…just wondering…

And…scene! We then return to Mayberry, as a lone telegram deliveryman (Anthony Jochim) shuffles down the street and into Emmett’s fix-it shop (apparently the whole freakin’ town knows where Roscoe is now hanging out) with an urgent missive for Mr. March…

ROSCOE: Telegram?
DELIVERY MAN: From Hollywood…
ROSCOE: Hollywood?
HOWARD: This is it! (To Emmett) Give him a tip…
GOOBER: I knew we were gonna hear this morning…I said to myself, if three convertibles go by my gas station with the top down we was gonna hear from Hollywood!
EMMETT (To Roscoe): How about opening it?
ROSCOE: Yeah… (He gingerly opens up the telegram and reads to himself…after a pause, a huge smile can be seen across his face…he then starts laughing maniacally) Frank Springer wants to have her interviewed for a part in a picture!
(Emmett, Goober and Howard excitedly shout their approval)
ROSCOE: Where’s Millie now?
HOWARD: She’d be at the bakery!

Leave it to Howard the Stalker to have her itinerary memorized. So they all scramble out the door…even Emmett, who I thought at first was going to be the voice of sanity in all this…clearly I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about. At the bakery, Millie and Sam are making plans for dinner and a movie… (bow-chicka-wow-wow…) I am not going to ask you again…when Roscoe and the Mayberry Three come rushing into Boysinger’s:

ROSCOE: Millie! Millie, they want you for an interview for a picture…
MILLIE (stunned): What?
GOOBER: Yeah, we just got a telegram from Hollywood…Emmett give ‘im the tip…
HOWARD: Yeah…
ROSCOE: They’re makin’ a Civil War picture in Virginia and they’re doin’ the castin’ out of Richmond…and Frank Springer said to take you down there on Monday and the castin’ director will give you an audition… (He shows her the telegram) There it is! We fly to Richmond on Monday mornin’!
SAM (incredulous): I never thought these things really happened…
HOWARD: Well, it just goes to prove that Hollywood really knows talent when it sees it!
MILLIE: I can’t…I…I…I just can’t…
ROSCOE: Millie,.whaddya mean you can’t?
MILLIE: Well, I…I…I don’t know…I…I…I just can’t…besides, we always sugar the donuts on Monday, so you see it’s impossible…

Yeah, you’re going to have to reschedule this for Wed…well, no—that’s when they put the jimmies on the cupcakes. Roscoe pleads with Sam to convince Millie not to be such an idiot…

SAM: Millie, this is a great opportunity…I don’t think you can pass it up…
MILLIE: Oh, Sam…I’m scared…I’m scared…
SAM: Well, that’s to be expected…
HOWARD: Just think, Millie…one of these days we’ll be seeing our own Millie Swanson right up there on the silver screen…
MILLIE: Oh…
GOOBER (laughing stupidly): Yeah…and ev’rybody will be askin’ you for your autograph…
EMMETT: Go on, Millie…climb the heights…

Millie still isn’t convinced, but she promises Roscoe “Super Agent” March that she’ll take the matter under consideration. Roscoe orders everybody out of the bakery, and as Millie nervously fumbles with the string tied to a bakery box she has visions of starring in that stirring Civil War epic, Gone With the Wind II: Give a Damn…

As Goober’s prediction of her signing tons of autographs reverbs through her head, she has visions of that, too…

…and nonchalantly fondling a loaf of bread (I swear I’m not making this up), she dreams of accepting the top prize in motion pictures…

No more calls, we have a winner! After some stock footage of a jet in flight, we find Roscoe, Sam and Millie entering the casting office. Roscoe tells the receptionist (Ceil Cabot) that they have an appointment with a Mr. Carr, and the woman replies that Carr will see them shortly…

MILLIE: Sam…hold my hand…
SAM: Now, look…just…do the best you can…that’ll be enough…
MILLIE (exhaling): Roscoe…is my lipstick on straight?
ROSCOE: It’s perfect…perfect, nothing to be nervous about…

Just then, an actress (Timothy Blake) and a man believed to be her agent storm out of Carr’s office. “You should have told me they wanted a girl with a Southern accent,” the actress berates the man getting ten percent. “I would have practiced!”

SAM (to Roscoe): Southern accent?
ROSCOE: Well…it’s a Civil War picture…
MILLIE: Oh, Roscoe, I’m shaking…
ROSCOE: Look, baby…there’s nothing to be nervous about…Frank Springer wouldn’t have recommended an interview if he didn’t see somethin’ in ya…you’ll knock ‘em dead…
MILLIE: But, Roscoe—I’ve never done anything like this before…

Scriptwriter Joseph Bonaduce (yes, father of Danny “Partridge Family” Bonaduce*) must not have seen the R.F.D. episode “The Church Play”—in which we learn that our favorite bakery babe was a chorus girl before sugaring people’s donuts (I knew there was no way of phrasing that so it didn’t sound dirty). Clearly Millie has had some background in the the-ah-tah, which is why this episode’s credibility is threatening to break like a too tightly-wound rubber band.

Roscoe explains to Millie that the secret to a successful interview is to “project”—or as he puts it, “give out with the personality.” The receptionist then announces that Ralph Carr is ready to see them…and filing into the office we find…

Hokey smoke, Bullwinkle! It’s Dick “Please don’t squeeze the Charmin” Wilson!

CARR: Miss Swanson, this is a small part we’re casting…uh, a Southern girl during the Civil War…do you think you could play that?
MILLIE (with an exaggerated accent): Oh…well, shut mah mouth! Thay-at happens to be the thing ah do bay-st!
CARR: I see…well, are you ready to read now?
MILLIE (in her normal voice): Read what?
CARR: The part…
MILLIE: Oh… (Back into the accent) Oh, ah surely ah-yam…lord-a-mercy, isn’t this excitin’?!!

It was established on The Andy Griffith Show that Millie hails from the Mountain State—Wheeling, West Virginia, to be precise—so unless she had a mother that came from Boston, Massachusetts and a father who lost his hillbilly drawl after spending many years in Chicago (not that I’m singling out any particular blogger or anything) Millie wouldn’t have to fake a Southern accent. Well, I’ll cut to the chase here…Millie reads for the role, and she stinks on ice. Her vocal inflections are all wrong, and she comically insists on reading the stage directions {“But, Beauregard…I’m afraid…whimper”). It becomes painfully clear to one and all that unless silent films come back in a big way Millie’s movie career will never even get out of the starting gate.

ROSCOE: Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t act…?
MILLIE: I did…
ROSCOE: Why didn’t you convince me…?
MILLIE: I’m sorry, Roscoe…
SAM: You know, you don’t seem all broken up about it, Millie…
MILLIE: Well…as a matter of fact, I’m kind of relieved… (Taking a sip of coffee) Wasn’t that the worst piece of acting you ever saw?
SAM: No…no, it wasn’t the worst…it was close, though…

Sam—unless you’ve ever sat down and watched a few reruns of Mama’s Family, I wouldn’t be so quick to cast the first stone. As for Roscoe, he’s had it with show business—this little setback has convinced him to find honest work, like toil in his brother’s shoe store. Sam and Millie both tag-team their friend, trying to convince him not to give up so easily…but Roscoe has his mind made up…until he gets a gander at the cashier working the diner…

And that, friends and neighbors…is how Teri Garr was discovered. (Okay, it wasn’t exactly like that—but it’s better to have an ending like this than to find Ned Glass face down in a swimming pool in the next scene…”The poor dope…he always wanted a pool…”)

Coda time: Sam finds Goober, Emmett and Howard hanging out at the library. GOTCHA! They’re really at Emmett’s shop (like that is a big surprise). Anyway, Sam has terrific news concerning Roscoe the Agent…

SAM: You know that cashier that I told you he found in Richmond…?
GOOBER/HOWARD (together): Yeah…
SAM: Well, he took her over to the casting office and she got the job in the picture!
HOWARD: Hey!
EMMETT: Hope he can find another Beverly Bennett…
SAM: Well, I hope so…
GOOBER: Hey, you know since this whole thing started with Millie I’ve been thinkin’ about goin’ into show business myself…
HOWARD: Oh, you’re kiddin’, Goob…
GOOBER: No, I ain’t…go out there to Hollywood and after I get started I’ll get me one of those big mansions and maybe a foreign car…a swimmin’ pool and all that stuff…
EMMETT: Uh…when are you figuring on doing this, Goober?
GOOBER (grinning idiotically): Just as soon as I can find me a couple of smart dogs…

Emmett grabs Goober’s hat and hits him on the head with it, Leo Gorcey-style…and Howard joins in with Goober’s comic book. There’s nothing else I can add here, so let’s have a little music to play us out… (Bow-chicka-wow-wow…)

No sign of Beatrice “Aunt Bee” Taylor (Frances Bavier) this week, so Thrilling Days of Yesteryear’s patented Mayberry R.F.D. Bee-o-Meter™ stalls at five appearances so far this season. But there’s no sign of Sam’s son Mike (Buddy Foster), either—I’m thinking maybe Aunt Bee took the kid to be enrolled in the Raleigh Academy for Idiot Children or something. Next week, Sam engages in some The Graduate-like shenanigans in a steamy little installment entitled “Sam and the Teenager”…koo-koo-ka-choo! (Actually, it’s more like bow-chicka-wow-wow…) See you next week!

*According to the always reliable IMDb, Papa Bonaduce was “a moderately-successful television writer, still struggling to make a name for himself, when son Danny became famous on The Partridge Family (1970). Fame rubbed off in reverse, and Joseph began picking up writer's work because of Danny's precocious comedic talents. Unfortunately, the upside-down situation led to considerable friction between father and son.” Personally, I think the friction began when the old man discovered his progeny was un dickhead formidable...