Mayberry Mondays #5: “The Copy Machine” (10/21/68, prod. no. 0111)

I’m going to warn you right off the bat—this week’s episode of Mayberry R.F.D. centers on the idiot son of town councilman Sam Jones (Ken Berry), Mike Jones (Buddy Foster). Mike doesn’t grin as much in this installment as he does in previous R.F.D. entries, but he’s still a bit of an pinhead—although I have a new-found respect for actor Foster, who once asked R.F.D. producer Bob Ross in 1970 if he could grow his hair out. Ross’ response: “In Mayberry, boys don’t wear their hair long. Cut your hair. Period.” (Got-dam long-haired hippie kids…next thing you know he’ll be firing up a joint and listening to some of that crazy jazz music.)

But this is 1968, and Mike’s a long way from burning his draft card and threatening to storm the dean’s office. He’s only nine years old, ferchrissake—and as our episode begins, he’s also been receiving quite a bit of mail at Jones Estates…at breakfast, no less. (Now…if Sam Jones is a farmer, it stands to reason that he’s up pretty early in the morning to do the chore-y things that farmers do. Who’s delivering mail at that hour of the morning?) Aunt Bee brings the mail into the kitchen, where Sam is seated, about to tuck in to a little nosh…

AUNT BEE: Mr. Felton was early this morning…

SAM: Oh? Is there anything interesting in the mail?

AUNT BEE: Yes, Mr. Felton said that Mary Jane Tompkins is still hearing from that boy she met in Charlotte…and Henrietta Atwood had a card from… (She catches herself) Oh, you mean our mail…

SAM (laughing): Yeah…

AUNT BEE: Well, let’s see… (Handing him an envelope) Here’s one for you from the gas company…

SAM: Oh…what’s all that other stuff?

AUNT BEE: For Mr. Michael Jones…

SAM: Is he still sending out those coupons for catalogs?

AUNT BEE: Sam, you know children—they love to get mail…they don’t like to see the adults get all of it…

As if on cue—almost as if it were scripted—Mike enters the kitchen with his schoolbooks at the ready, and Aunt Bee reminds him to finish his milk. Mike’s eyes widen at the sight of the catalogs that have come via Felton Express (“we run the earliest ship in the shipping business”):

MIKE: Hey! Here’s a diamond ring for only seven hundred and fifty dollars…

SAM: You know, Mike…why do you send for a catalog like that?

MIKE: Well, it says on the coupon that there’s no obligation…

SAM: Oh…I thought you might be figuring on buying that for Aunt Bee’s birthday…

Pay very close attention here…we’ve just laid down the foundation for an admittedly clumsy, heavily-labored plot. To continue, Mike also gets a bit o’mail from a company called “Piedmont Land Developers.” Aunt Bee defends Mike on this one, though—saying that “the study of land values is very educational”:

MIKE: Hey! They want me to come to Raleigh!

SAM: What?

MIKE: That’s the only place I can get the plane…

SAM: What plane?

MIKE: The one that’s going to take me to Winston-Salem for a free lunch…and a chance to see… (He reads the brochure) ”A paradise nestled in the green hills…with its own golf course…and absolutely smog-free…that you can invest in for as little as five thousand dollars down…” Can I go, Pa?

SAM: Oh, sure, sure…just take the five thousand out of your piggy bank and let us hear from you…

Sam—you may not get another opportunity like this. Personally, I think it would be worth five large to send the little bozo packing. But Mike’s got people to see, things to do, corn to hoe, trash to haul…he downs the rest of his milk and makes tracks for the door—his father reminds him, of course, to pay attention to the books he should be reading. (Parents can be a trial sometimes.)

The scene dissolves to a shot of Mike sitting on the front porch and poring over his latest catalog. His lisping friend Harold (Richard Steele) is seated next to him, and Mike tells his chum that he’d really like to buy a silver vase for Aunt Bee’s natal anniversary…but the tariff is $9.75. “Plus postage,” adds Harold helpfully. I did a little checking up on the child actor who plays the sibilant little twerp, and this is what the IMDb came up with:

Richard "Dick" Steele was a promising boxing prospect in southern California in the mid 1960s. A native of Los Angeles, made his professional boxing start at the famed Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles on August 8, 1966 knocking out "Mean" Gene Turner in 4 rounds. Steele was tagged a future champion when he put together an impressive knockout streak: Scott Wissoper KO 2, Henry Poucey KO 3, Tom Stancil KO 2, Chuck Hamilton Ko 1, Chuck Hamilton again KO 1, Henry Poucey KO 5, and Mark White KO 1. However, Steele's knockout run was ended in an upset knockout lose to journeyman Johnny Featherman in 5 rounds in Los Angeles. Shortly after Steele lost to Ralph McCoy and Chuck Hamilton and his once promising boxing career was over. Steele went on to become a respected and popular fight referee. His career was peaking when he was the third man for the Meldrick Taylor/Julio Cesar Chavez title bout. Steele received a storm of criticism for stopping the fight with only seconds remaining and awarding Chavez (who was behind on points) the victory.

Here is child actor Steele in all his boxing glory:

So the kid was, what, seven years old when he took on “Mean” Gene? (Ah, the IMDB…you can’t beat it for accuracy.) Since Mike only has $4.50, it looks as if he’s going to have to take a pass on that vase—but Kismet arrives in the form of Mr. Felton (Norman Leavitt), Mayberry’s crack-of-dawn postman. He drops off a big honkin’ package that’s addressed to Mike…and he tells the boy to let Aunt Bee know “that the Barretts finally heard from their daughter out in Hollywood.” (Geez, no wonder this guy delivers mail so early—he’s got to budget enough time to read everyone’s mail…)

Mike and Harold take the package up to Mike’s room, and upon unpacking it find a toaster oven. No, wait—I’m mistaken…it’s a copy machine, and Harold finds the magazine ad that Mike was originally perusing, which reveals a coupon from the Amalgamated Copy Machine Company that offers the individual who checks a certain box the use of a W-6 copy machine for a free 10-day trial. Mike’s clearly checked the wrong box, so he announces he’s going to send the copier back—but Harold, that clever little mook, tells him that could be a big mistake, because the company might get mad if Mike sends it back so soon.

Mike brainstorms—and believe me, anything in that little doofus’ head is a storm—that the two of them could go into business by charging the citizens of Mayberry two cents a copy…and with that cash, he can buy Aunt Bee the silver vase. (Once again—and this is just my opinion, mind you—Mike has a boneheaded idea…I’d be buying the first bus ticket out of Mayberry.) So the business is off and running—hell, if those little j.d.’s can convince substitute village idiot Emmett Clark (Paul Hartman) to kick in a pair of copper pennies for each copy (Emmett orders fifty) they should be able to corner the Kinko’s-starved Mayberry market in no time…

HAROLD (stopping Mike on the street): Hey, Mike…the diner wants ten copies of this menu…

MIKE: Great! I just got an order from Sheriff Taylor…look, I’ll go home and make ‘em, while you get some more customers…

Oh, boy…apparently Sam hasn’t had “the talk” with his son about Andy’s status on the show…poor kid…he has no way of knowing that Andy’s slipped his collar, ran out into the street, was hit by a passing motor car and won’t be coming back. (Okay, I’m kidding about that—he’ll show up in at least two more episodes.) After another montage of a grinning Mike making more copies and raking in the big bucks…trouble arrives at Casa Del Jones in the form of a shiny automobile that’s just pulled up…

Aunt Bee goes to answer the knock at the front door, and upon opening the door sees that it’s Seaman Lester Gruber a salesman named Ernie Newhouser (Carl Ballantine). He asks to see a “Mr. Jones,” and a nervous Bee makes her way out to the kitchen to inform Sam (who’s eating again) of Mr. Newhouser’s waiting in the sitting room…or is that sitting in the waiting room?

AUNT BEE: Sam…there’s a traveling salesman out there…

SAM: Well, don’t worry…I don’t have a daughter…

AUNT BEE: Did you order a copying machine for a free ten day trial? A W-6?

SAM: A what?

AUNT BEE: Yes, he said they sent one to you…that they got a coupon from you…

At the mention of the word “coupon,” Sam figures out just who the individual is who’s padding the household’s office supply account—so he goes out to the living room to have a chat with Mr. Newhouser…explaining to Aunt Bee that he’ll just tell Ernie “they sent a machine to an eight-year-old kid.” Newhouser tells Sam that it’s been a pretty rough day—“Just came back from a call over in Siler City…discovered some kid over there ordered a machine.” It happens every once in a while, “where a child doesn’t have proper parental supervision.”

With egg all over his face, Sam bluffs Newhouser into thinking that he’s going to continue to examine the W-6…even though he flinches when the salesman tells him that the cost of the device is seventy-five dollars. Cue the parental lecture:

SAM: How come I didn’t know about this?

MIKE: Well…we’ve been so busy with the business…I guess I forgot to tell you…are you mad at me?

SAM: Oh, no…I’m not mad at you, Mike…I’m just disappointed…

Mike, buddy—let me give you a word of advice…as someone who was on the receiving end of this speech more times than I care to elaborate…when a parent says “they’re disappointed,” it means they’re pissed as hell…and you’re grounded till you’re thirty.

MIKE: Well…I didn’t know if you knew about copy machines and…free trials and all that…

SAM: Now, look…you’d…you’d be surprised at the things your father knows about—just give him a chance…believe me, Mike, there’s nothing you can’t talk to me about…

Except S-E-X. But hopefully Sam won’t have to have that talk with his son until the moment Mike announces he’s gay. Anyhoo, Sam suggests that Mike pack up the copy machine and that he’ll run him downtown to the post office so that he can send it back. He slips Mike a few simolians for postage and tells the kid that if he wants a ride home to stop by his office in town in about an hour since he has to run a few errands. (He was going to make the kid walk back home? That’ll teach him to order expensive merchandise through the mail, I suppose.)

But just when Mike was going to do what his father asked or risk being transformed into a donkey, here comes that jackass Harold—who tells Mike that he’s just received a big order from the town’s dress shop for a hundred copies…at three cents apiece. Doing the math in his head (yeah, I’m just as surprised as you are), Mike figures that this will net him enough scratch to make $10.50…and he’ll have the funds he needs to get Aunt Bee her birthday present. “Including postage,” Harold interjects again. (Is this kid a shill for the USPS?) Mike schemes to take the copier back to his father’s office where they’ll make the copies (it will take twenty minutes) and he’ll have plenty of time to get back to the post office and mail it back to Newhouser and Company.

In the meantime, whenever there’s work to be avoided…well, that’s why the Good Lord built Emmett’s Fix-It Shop. Sam enters the establishment and says hi-dy to Howard Sprague (Jack Dodson), who’s apparently returned from exile…and for some odd reason, is dressed rather casually, so I’m guessing he didn’t have to report to work today. (Civil servants be crazy.) “Hey, Sam—where’ve you been the last couple days?” asks Emmett. Sam replies, “Well, I’ve got a farm…remember?” (I’m surprised Sam remembers, as much time as he spends in that raggedy place.)

Emmett mentions to Sam that he’s been doing business with Mike, which prompts Howard to launch into another boring and pointless anecdote about when he was growing up…

HOWARD: Yeah, Emmett’s been telling me all about it…I think it’s just great…develops backbone…I remember my first job…I…I don’t know, I guess I was about fourteen, sellin’ magazines…yeah…that took aggressiveness, I sold eight subscriptions, though, in the first week…

SAM: Oh…

EMMETT: Hey. I remember that…you sold all eight to your mother… (Laughing) Never went out of the house…

He sure knows how to hurt a guy. Mike informs Emmett and Howard that Mike is out of the copy business, and then he asks Emmett what the status is on a clock Aunt Bee sent in to be repaired. With little to no surprise, Sam learns that Emmett hasn’t made much progress—the hands still stop at 4:20, but Emmett’s learned that if you push the second hand a little it’ll keep on going. (Emmett, for reasons unknown, has this odd habit of “licking the plug” of appliances that are in his shop—as indicated in the photo here on the left.)

“Well, I suppose she could do that in the afternoon,” reasons Sam, “but at four-twenty in the morning…”

“That’s why I didn’t call you it was ready,” interjects Emmett matter-of-factly. (Savant, heal thyself.) After Sam says his goodbyes, Emmett continues to “fix” the clock by slamming it on the counter. All Howard can do is look heavenward.

Back at Sam’s office, Mike and Harold continue their illicit copying…but since we know something is going to go wrong, Mike ends up tripping over the copier’s cord and the device crashes to the floor. (Harold, it should be pointed out, was standing right next to the damn thing…why he couldn’t have kept it from falling is a testament to his poor motor skills.) Picking the copier off the floor, Mike sets it back on the table…and upon turning it on, the copier starts making a strange mechanical grinding noise. Mike, not to put too fine a point on it, is seriously f**ked.

To demonstrate how desperate Mike’s situation has become, the little schlemiel has resorted to taking the copier into Emmett’s to see if he can do something with it. “Well, he can if banging will do it,” cracks Howard. Emmett doesn’t hold out too much hope for Mike’s machine: “Gee, Mike…this is pretty badly scratched up,” observes Emmett, prompting Mike to reply: “And it makes a lot of noise, too…” (So simple a caveman can do it.)

Emmett switches the machine on and the ungodly noises begin again. “Hey, Mike…this is kind of out of my line…I wouldn’t know how to get started,” admits Emmett. “I never even seen one before,” he continues, “I’d probably do more harm than good.” (Since when has that ever stopped him?) Dejected, Mike packs up the machine again and heads for home…and asks that Howard and Emmett not breathe a word about the wonky copier to his father. “Be careful,” Howard advises Mike as the kid leaves the shop. (A little late for that, wouldn’t you say? He’s already broken the damn thing.)

The scene dissolves to a shot of Mike on the telephone, where he’s attempting to apply for a wait staff position at Mayberry’s diner: “Well, I’m going to be nine pretty soon…and lots of times I help Aunt Bee serve dinner.” But no dice. Aunt Bee has entered the room by this time, and remarks to Mike how foolish it is for him to want to go to work. Mike then spills the beans to Bee about the broken copier, and she suggests that he look into a position at the local factory, where child labor laws are practically ignored. No, no…I’m kidding about that—but Mike asks Aunt Bee not to tell Sam “until he’s in the right mood”…so, naturally “the Mouth of Mayberry” has to put Mike’s father “in the mood”:

AUNT BEE: You know, I was just thinking…being considerate of other people is a person’s first duty…mm-hmm…I mean, like, I should be nice to you and you should be nice to me…and we both should be nice to Mike…

SAM: Well…I’ll buy that…

AUNT BEE: You know, and another thing…you know, money isn’t everything…money is just money…five, ten…or seventy-five…money isn’t important, is it?

SAM: Say…you…you really jumped up to seventy-five there, didn’t you?

AUNT BEE: Well, it’s just a figure…I’m glad you’re so understanding…

SAM: Understanding about what, Aunt Bee?

AUNT BEE: Well, nothing in particular…the main thing is that if anybody were in trouble, you’d be there…hmm?

SAM: Well, yeah, but…who’s in trouble?

AUNT BEE: Well, I didn’t say Mike was in trouble…

Nice goin’, Gran…you sure kept that under wraps. So Sam ventures upstairs to Mike’s crib and begins the parental interrogation (I can hear Number Two on The Prisoner now: “We want…information…”), starting off with the oldie-but-a-goodie about coming to your parents in time of trouble, they’re always there to help, yadda yadda yadda. “A father always wants to help his son,” Sam drones on. “He doesn’t want to see his son carry a burden all by himself…he wants to share that burden…and no matter what that burden is, he wants to help you find a solution calmly and sensibly…so…what’s the problem, Mike?”

“I busted the copy machine,” confesses Mike. I’d now like to show you a picture of a calm, sensible man.

I have to be honest—I enjoyed Ken Berry’s reaction to this bombshell, because it seemed pretty realistic. (He also, for some unexplained reason, held a tennis racket in his hand the entire time he’s giving the “confession-is-good-for-the-soul” routine to his son—for a second there, I thought he was going to clean the little essobee’s clock with it.) Mike further confesses that he did not listen to Sam when his father told him to ship the copier back, and he sets up the machine to demonstrate the godawful noise it now makes. “That’s the burden you said you wanted to share with me,” Mike offers up smart-assedly as he turns off the copier.

SAM: But you disobeyed me, Mike…you used that machine after I told you to send it back…

MIKE: But the reason I did is because I…

SAM (cutting him off): The reason is not important…seventy five dollars…

MIKE: Did you want to share that, too?

Oh, brother—had I said that to my father…and he had a tennis racket in his hand…I’d be at school the next day with a criss-cross pattern dotting the landscape of my face. Mike explains to Sam that even though the copier is banged up and sounds like a car without a muffler it still works…but clearly steamed at his son, Sam leaves the room, explaining to Mike that he has to think…

He ends up on the front porch…and who should arrive on the scene but that little troublemaker Harold…God, what an annoying little prat. Nevertheless, he is good enough to explain to Sam that Mike’s rebelling against authority was only because he wanted to raise the money for Aunt Bee’s silver vase. “It cost nine seventy-five…plus postage,” Harold informs him, getting in one last plug for the Post Office. Chastened by his son’s act of thoughtfulness, Sam returns to Mike’s room and tells his son that he just might need the use of a copier after all. “Well, it still makes a lot of noise, Pa,” interjects Mike as he switches the copier on again and the grinding mechanical noises commence. “I can hardly hear it,” Sam shouts over the din…and all is forgiven. (A real Andy-and-Opie moment, to be sure.)

The coda to this episode takes place in Emmett’s fix-it shop…that guy must have some nudie magazines in the back or something, the way everybody passes the time of day there. “I own this thing now,” Sam grumbles, and he asks Emmett to see if it can be repaired—but Emmett tries to explain to his friend that he’s just not smart enough to repair something so obviously complex. Told by Sam to do what he can do, Emmett turns on the machine…and then bangs it on the counter when the noise becomes deafening. The noise suddenly stops, and Emmett rushes out of the shop to tell the populace of Mayberry of his genius.

Since Aunt Bee is in this episode, that makes a total of four episodes as registered by the patented Thrilling Days of Yesteryear Mayberry R.F.D. Bee-O-Meter™ (if you’re wondering what it looks like, it’s a little similar to the copy machine from this episode…with a few additional bells and whistles). But this is the second episode in which Goober Pyle (George Lindsey) is M.I.A., which makes me a little worried…unless he’s off in Raleigh attending a gasoline station convention. (Andy probably drove him up there.) Speaking of the man whom everyone talks about but the viewer rarely sees, I found this little goodie via YouTube—a 1968 promotional spot trumpeting the arrival of Mayberry R.F.D…but if you watch this, it sort of implies that Andy Taylor will be a major presence on the new series, and we, of course, know this to be not so. Boy, I’ll bet the viewers were pissed when CBS unveiled this tissue of lies…

Mayberry Mondays #4: “Help on the Farm” (10/14/68, prod. no. 0104)

Okay, so maybe last week’s Mayberry R.F.D. was a little disappointing. So maybe casting Aunt Bee as a horse fancier isn’t all that damn funny. Well, buck up, little buckaroos—not only is “help on the farm,” as this week’s episode is titled, but “help is on the way”; look at what we have in the opening credits!

And the crowd goes wild! No more lame excuses about Sheriff Andy Taylor (Griffith) being at a convention in Raleigh, or whatever the hell those Mayberrians concoct as an excuse to explain that Andy’s shaken the dust of that crummy little town off his boots and he’s off to see the world. (And yet, as we will see—there is a dark underside to this episode…but more on that in a bit.)

Andy and Emmett Clark (Paul Hartman) are having a stroll down Mayberry’s main thoroughfare as this episode gets underway; they’ve just been to the movies and Emmett—Mayberry’s resident cineaste—is torqued off because the film they’ve just seen, Full Moon Over Fort Apache, is “a sloppy love story.” “Not once in the whole picture did you see an Indian shoot a flaming arrow—did you notice that?” bitches Emmett. But this fascinating conversation on the state of cinema in Mayberry will have to wait; Andy notices a light on in the town council office and peering through the window (the sheriff’s a Peeping Tom?—tell me that’s not disturbing), notices that head councilman Sam Jones (Ken Berry) is busy burning the midnight oil inside:

ANDY: Working kinda late, aren’t ya?

SAM: Yeah…I figured I’d better get some council work done while I can—I’ll be spending all my time at the farm the next few weeks unless I can get some help out there…

Oh, so that’s why he’s always goldbricking around at Emmett’s shop…it’s so hard to get good farm help these days.

ANDY: Oh, yeah…the corn crop’s comin’ in, huh?

SAM: Yeah...say, you don’t happen to know where I can get a couple of farmhands, do you?

ANDY: Hey…

SAM: What?

ANDY: How would you feel about hiring a couple of ex-prisoners?

EMMETT: Prisoners?!!

ANDY: Ex-prisoners, Emmett…ex-prisoners…I was talkin’ to the warden over at the county prison…and he says they’re always lookin’ for jobs for men that they’re fixin’ to release—you know, help them get on their feet?

SAM: Yeah…hey, that’s a thought…

ANDY: Yeah, see…they release these men, give ‘em a few bucks…and if they don’t get a job right away they could get into trouble again…

SAM: Now this would be only be for a few weeks…

ANDY: Everything helps…see, a lot of people aren’t willin’ to give these fellas another chance…and that’s exactly what they need…

SAM: Yeah… (After a pause) Gee, I hope one of them can drive a truck…

EMMETT: Hey…maybe you’ll be lucky and get a hijacker…

I guess since Goober Pyle (George Lindsey) isn’t in this episode, Emmett is filling in as the town idiot. Sam is amenable to the idea of using ex-cons as labor…but there’s just one small hitch in Andy’s clever little scheme…and her name is Beatrice "Aunt Bee" Taylor (Francis Bavier)…

The scene shifts to the kitchen at Rancho Jones, where Aunt Bee is prattling on about the fundraising efforts of the Women’s Club to raise the scratch for a community swimming pool—she put Millie Swanson (Arlene Golonka) in charge, and she was able to wrest fifteen dollars from notorious town tightwad Elmo (played infrequently on the show by character great Vince Barnett…though he doesn’t appear in this episode). Sam then decides that this will be a great opportunity (he’s always thinking, that one) to bring up the idea of hiring the ex-cons as farmhands to Aunt Bee:

SAM: If you’ve paid your debt to society, you oughta have another chance…

AUNT BEE: I know…you know, if we can’t forgive each other, where are we?

SAM: Right…right…

AUNT BEE: You know, I saw a perfect example of that in a movie last week…George Raft, he got out of prison and he wanted to go honest…and nobody would help him…so he rebelled…and he became king of the rum-runners…his friends were just crushed…

SAM: I’ll bet…anyway, I’m glad you feel that strongly about ex-prisoners, Aunt Bee…

AUNT BEE: Of course I do…bless their hearts…

SAM: Good…because Andy said he could line up a couple of ex-prisoners to work on the farm…

AUNT BEE: Wonderful!

One, two, three…wait for it…suddenly, NIMBY-ism rears its ugly head as Aunt Bee realizes that there will be ex-cons running about the place, waiting for the moment when she’s alone and vulnerable and then grabbing her shoulders with their rough, ex-criminal hands and…okay, maybe I should just stop there. Let’s just say she’s not too keen on this progressive idea anymore—but then again, what do you expect from a woman who debated an entire episode as to whether or not she should lift a chicken?

AUNT BEE: Uh…well…I…I…I would love to have them, uh…it’s just that…you know, I haven’t told you but I plan to pick some of the corn crop…and, uh…Mike here, he should follow in your footsteps, he can help, and…I can drive a truck!

SAM: Look, Aunt Bee…

AUNT BEE: I’d love to have them, but it doesn’t seem necessary…does it?

SAM (firmly): Yes…I need a couple of men…believe me…

Um…I’m not going to speculate on that last sentence…except that apparently Millie isn’t getting the job done, if you know what I mean…and I think you do. Nevertheless, Aunt Bee nervously gives her approval, and we fade to Andy introducing Sam to his new employees…Harry Davis (the great Herbie Faye, who’d been through Mayberry previously in The Andy Griffith Show episode “The Tape Recorder” [10/30/67]—in which Opie and his friend Sheldon surreptitiously a conversation between suspect Faye and his lawyer as to where Faye’s hidden some stolen loot, thus violating about 57 varieties of civil liberties) and Charlie “Fingers” Wilson (Lewis Charles). (“Charlie?” asks Harry. “I’ve known you for twenty years—I didn’t know that was your name.”) Andy explains to Sam that Charlie is known as “Fingers” because “he, once in a while, would find his hand in somebody else’s pocket.” Harry also has a nickname—“Lucky,” because of his predilection for gambling:

SAM: Either of you fellas know anything about farming?

CHARLIE: Oh, you mean growin’ stuff and all that kind of thing? Oh, sure…sure…

HARRY: Yeah…we love it…

SAM: Well, good…good… (He fumbles around in his shirt pocket for a bullet piece of paper and pencil) Uh…I’m going to need your Social Security numbers…

HARRY: Uh…I’ve been meanin’ to get one of them…

CHARLIE: Me, too…

ANDY: You mean neither one of you guys got Social Security cards?

CHARLIE: Well, it’s just one of those things we never got around to…you know how you keep puttin’ things off…

Yeah, that’s something to which the people running the Big House don’t pay a great deal of attention. Back at the ranch, Mike (Buddy Foster)—Sam’s constantly grinning idiot son—is jumping up and down with delight at the prospect of having as guests these former “wards of the State.” Aunt Bee admonishes him to be very careful not to say anything they might be sensitive about. Sam introduces Harry and Charlie to Mike and Aunt Bee (“How do you do, Mr. Lucky…Mr. Fingers…”), and Bee decides to stick to safe topics of conversation, like the weather. Sam then tells the two ex-cons that he’ll rustle up some work clothes for them, since Bee has their room all prepared:

AUNT BEE: I hope you don’t mind bunk beds…

CHARLIE: Oh, no…we don’t mind…we’re kind of used to them…

As Harry and Charlie follow Sam upstairs, Aunt Bee realizes that she’s committed a dreadful fox paw…and cue the muted trombone effect (wah wah wah wah)…

In the next scene, Harry and Charlie are busy harvesting Sam’s crop—it’s hard work, but they really don’t mind as they marvel at the miracle of planting and growing and picking and processing and “before you know it, you got a bottle of bourbon,” Harry observes. But this homespun philosopher is worried that picking all that corn has qualified him for workers’ comp—he notices that “his dealin’ hand is gettin’ stiff.” Charlie tells him that it won’t make any difference but Harry deals a hand for practice and, sure enough, he’s dealing from the top of the deck. Sam’s arrival on the scene puts an end to the poker seminar—he asks the two men to take the pickup filled with corn down to the processing plant, and to also stop by for some gas (he gives them a double sawbuck)…with a side trip to Emmett’s fix-it shop to pick up a steam iron. (Hey, the boss puts off his chores by hanging out there—why should the hired help be any different?) “How do you like that?” marvels Harry to Charlie. “He gives us the truck and twenty bucks and tells us how to get to the highway…”

Harry and Charlie arrive at Emmett’s shop where Mayberry’s own fix-it savant informs him that he’s still repairing Sam’s iron—or as he puts it, “I’m working on the caper now.” (It’s funny—you occasionally see Emmett in the process of repairing things…but you rarely see him complete any of these tasks.) He’s interrupted by the ringing of the shop’s telephone, and after a brief conversation he hangs up and tells the two ex-cons to keep an eye on the store because he’s been summoned on an emergency service call: he needs to repair Clara Edwards’ heating pad because her sciatica is acting up again. “If somebody comes in to pick up something, just give it to them…take the money and put it in there and give ‘em the change,” Emmett points out helpfully, opening up the cash register drawer. “Oh, and if you need some big bills for change,” he further demonstrates, “they’re under here—sort of a secret compartment…can’t be too careful.”

As Emmett exits, Harry remarks to Charlie: “This town has got to be a put-on…” Charlie looks at his pal and then slowly closes the drawer. Meanwhile, back at Sam’s, Millie is seated at a table counting money as Aunt Bee looks on. The total is five hundred and twenty-three dollars…just a little shy of the thousand dollars needed for the down payment on the community swimming pool.

MILLIE: Better get that to the bank as soon as possible…

AUNT BEE: Oh no, I don’t think I can today—it’s closed…I’ll have to wait til’ Monday…

MILLIE: Oh, I think it’ll be safe with all the men you have around here…

Aunt Bee thinks about this statement, knowing that the population at the Jones Farm has increased by a pair of ex-cons, who are just waiting for the moment when she’s alone and vulnerable and then grabbing her shoulders with their rough, ex-criminal hands and…sorry…derailed my train of thought again. She moves about the living room, looking for a place to stash the king-sized wad of pool dough when she’s startled by Sam’s sudden arrival. Sam chides her, telling her that she’s just nervous about Charlie and Harry’s being around and suggesting she put the money in the desk…but Bee has a much better idea…she’ll hide it in a cookie jar in the kitchen.

Time passes (though not nearly as fast as someone watching this episode would hope) and our two ex-cons are seated at the table the next morning, drinking coffee and discussing what they should do today, since it’s their day off. Harry asks Charlie if he’d like a cookie—“Probably homemade,” he muses—and upon opening the jar…BINGO! He’s found Bee’s stash. He pulls out the wad of bills and as he thumbs through them Charlie wails: “What are they trying to do to us?”

“They put it right in front of your nose,” responds Harry. “You gotta be made of iron to hang around this town.”

But before the two men can take the time to figure out how wild a time they could have in Mt. Pilot with all that mazoola, they’re interrupted by Sam and Aunt Bee…who are dressed to the nines, as they are planning to attend Sunday services at the local church. The two ex-cons are invited to come along—Sam even suggests that they take the truck and meet them there because they’re still wearing their work clothes and they’ll need the extra time to gussy up. But Bee wasn’t born yesterday—she knows that cookie jar money would be mighty tempting for a pair of former crooks, and she announces that they’ll wait until Harry and Charlie change into a more proper set of duds.

The Jones family gets to the church on time—Aunt Bee, Mike, Sam (with Millie on his arm), Harry and Charlie enter and receive hymnals from Deacon Emmett. (Charlie fumbles around in his pocket upon getting a hymn book, and Harry admonishes him: “Pay later.”) As Emmett is closing the church doors, he’s helped by Andy, who’s just now arriving—and when Emmett asks where Opie is, Andy gives him some fable about his son having a cold and being nursed by Helen. (He’s not fooling anybody—he’s beaten both of them, and the two of them are afraid to be seen with bruises and contusions in public.) How do I know this? Take a look at this picture:

Notice where Andy is stationed and where Aunt Bee is sitting? The woman cooked and cleaned for him for eight years, and he can’t even sit in the same pew with her. The secret is out, folks. The past eight seasons of The Andy Griffith Show were all a sham, a terrible prevarication perpetuated on a gullible television-viewing public. (I apologize for bursting anybody’s bubble.)

Sam asks the Reverend (William Keene) if he’d be so good as to introduce his guests—Harry and Charlie—to the congregation:

REVEREND: Where are you gentlemen from?

CHARLIE: You…you mean just lately or…or like from before?

REVEREND: Well, I, uh…

SAM (interrupting): They, uh, move around a lot, Reverend…

AUNT BEE: There’s no longer any restrictions on them…

The Reverend then launches into his sermon, which he entitles “The Brotherhood of Man.” Fortunately, we’re spared the whole enchilada with a dissolve (Emmett, on the other hand, is fast asleep beside Andy in their pew) but the gist of the Reverend’s talk is one of helping out one another unselfishly and through the goodness of one’s heart. The congregation then launches into that oldie-but-a-goodie, Bringing in the Sheaves—and Harry and Charlie are encouraged to join in. The Reverend caps off his Sunday lecture by reminding his flock of the Women’s Club’s efforts to raise funds for the swimming pool, and he encourages everyone to give till it hurts…and then give some more. “Reach into that cookie jar and take it out,” he advises those in attendance…clearly not the most appropriate choice of words.

You can see here in this photo on the right (apologies for the poor quality, but you have to expect that sort of thing on Ioffer.com) that Andy is none too happy about having to exchange pleasantries with Aunt Bee, further evidence of the terror that reigned in the Taylor household until Bee was let go upon his marriage to the now-suffering Helen. But when Andy heads for the exit and the danger passes, the talk returns to that of Harry and Charlie—because Millie has asked Sam and Aunt Bee to stick around and help her collect pool contributions, Sam hands his employees the keys to the car and tells them to go on home…they’ll join them later. “Oh, Sam,” twitters Bee, “I’m so ashamed of myself…for not trusting Mr. Wilson and Mr. Davis. Did you see them singing? Perfect angels.”

Entering Casa Del Jones from the back door that leads into the kitchen, Aunt Bee is ecstatic because the money they collected at church has netted them a grand total of six hundred simolians. But she’s got a surprise waiting for her—her “angels” have raided the cookie jar and made off with the proceeds! Mike enters the kitchen, too, to inform his father that there’s no car in the garage. Dejected, Sam grabs the phone and asks “Sara” to connect him with Sheriff Taylor…

Now we’ll get some action! (Bad boys, bad boys...whatcha gonna do...) As Andy discusses the theft with Sam and Aunt Bee, Sam remembers that Harry mentioned earlier a big poker game taking place in Siler City under the auspices of a “Big Louie” Fletcher (character veteran Dan Seymour). “Oh yeah,” Andy nods. “He’s a gambler.” (Probably met him on a warm summer’s eve…on a train bound for nowhere.) Sure enough, the two men are shown in the next scene getting out of Sam’s car and headed for Big Louie’s digs at the local hotel. “There’s no chance of blowing this dough, is there?” Charlie asks his friend. “With Big Louie?” retorts Harry. “I must have played him fifty times…no competition. Don’t worry.” (Clearly, Large Louis is not much of a gambler…which makes you wonder why he enjoys the reputation he does.)

In Big Louie’s hotel room, the high stakes poker game is underway. But Harry’s debilitating corn-harvesting injury is hampering his deal, prompting Big Louie to ask: “How ‘bout giving us some from the top?” Harry feigns ignorance, but when Louie and fellow gambler Aces Malone (another man from the acting trenches, Val Bisoglio) move menacingly towards Harry and Charlie, the two men do some fancy talking to try and explain:

HARRY: Maybe I was dealin’ a little fancy…but it was for a reason…it was for a reason, honest…

CHARLIE: Yeah…it’s…it’s for a swimming pool…

LOUIE: A swimming pool? Why not a yacht?

HARRY: Not for us…for the kids in Mayberry…a pool for the town…

CHARLIE: Y-Y-Yeah…th-th-they couldn’t even raise the bread for a down payment…

ACES: Well, what’s in it for you two?

HARRY: Nothing! I-I-It’s the people…th-th-they treat ya nice…

CHARLIE: Yeah, they t-t-trust you like you was never in stir…

HARRY (after a pause) Aw, you guys wouldn’t understand…

LOUIE (grabbing Harry by his tie): What do you mean, we wouldn’t understand? What makes you think you’re better than we are…?

HARRY: B-B-But you…

LOUIE: You think you’re the only guys that can be nice? You think I’ve never been a kid? You think I don’t know about swimming?

Louie’s trip back to his halcyon youth years is interrupted by Andy and Sam, who bust into the gambler’s room like a pair of rogue Untouchables determined to close down the Uptown Poker Club. Sam is really disappointed in Harry and Charlie, and their explanation that they were doing a little independent “fundraising” falls on deaf ears. But Big Louie vouches for the two men, and peels off five hundred big ones from a wad in his pocket, handing it to a surprised Andy. “I just want to show these punks who’s got class,” he confides to Mayberry’s long arm of the law. Andy’s not quite certain of the ethics of Big Louie’s contribution because it’s gambling money—but Louie, Harry and Charlie convince him that it’s legit because the game never got underway.

As the episode draws to a close, Aunt Bee and Millie stop by Sam’s office to let him (and Andy) know that the bronze plaque ordered by the Women’s Club has arrived. It will be placed by the new swimming pool, and it thanks the efforts of Charlie, Harry, Louie and Aces for providing the fundage so that the little Mayberry tykes have a place to swim. (Awww…) As for "Fingers" and "Lucky," they've moved on to Noo Yawk for further adventures...and yet, everyone in Mayberry has learned a valuable lesson ("It's a two-way street, really...they learn from us and we learn from them," Sam acknowledges). This beautiful moment is then ruined by Sam's idiot son Mike, who grins and challenges his father to "cut" a deck of cards to see who feeds the chickens. Sam then tells his son they'll be going around to Sheriff Taylor's place for a "little discipline." (Okay, I made that last part up.)

Aunt Bee is in this episode, which makes a total of three episodes as registered by the patented Thrilling Days of Yesteryear Mayberry R.F.D. Bee-O-Meter™. Curiously, in addition to Goober’s disappearance (which I mentioned earlier), this marks the second episode in which county clerk Howard Sprague (Jack Dodson) is also nowhere to be found. While “Help on the Farm” benefits from the appearances of old pros like Faye (who achieved television immortality as Corporal Sam Fender on The Phil Silvers Show), Andy Griffith’s guest appearance as Sheriff Andy Taylor seems really out of place here…it’s almost as if he were a “rank stranger,” to borrow a term from the old Stanley Brothers standard:

Everybody I met seemed to be a rank stranger

No mother or dad not a friend could I see

They knew not my name and I knew not their faces

I found they were all rank strangers to me.

Crime does not pay (as well as it used to)*

I’m always disapernted when the TCM on Demand service (courtesy of the fine people at CharredHer Cable) doesn’t feature any shorts to go with their movie offerings. Right now—if I have a mind to—I can watch either The African Queen (1951), The Bad News Bears (1976), Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986), The Snake Pit (1948) or Stalag 17 (1953) with just the touch of a button on my remote; I’ve already seen all five of these, you understand—but it’s nice to know that if I need, say, a Billy Wilder fix I can punch up Stalag without having to remember just where in the hell the DVD is on my (admittedly numerous) DVD shelves.

Last week, however, TCM on Demand featured a pair of two-reelers from the popular M-G-M Crime Does Not Pay series, Give Till It Hurts (1937) and Dark Shadows (1944)—the latter is, of course, not to be confused with the cult television Gothic soap opera that aired on ABC from 1966-71. Shadows features character great Henry O’Neill as a psychologist who assists the local gendarmes (represented by Morris Amkrum) in a murder investigation where the obvious suspect (Paul Guilfoyle) is pooh-poohed by O’Neill in favor of a mysterious individual (Arthur Space) who exhibits odd behavior like visiting a train station every day and waiting for someone who never shows up. It’s fairly heavy-handed stuff, but it’s interesting from a historical perspective as one of the first instances on the silver screen when psychology was treated as a more than just a parlor game.

My personal preference was for Give Till it Hurts, one of those Crime Does Not Pay forays into melodrama where the physician (Howard C. Hickman) of a free clinic is rooked into a fundraising scam by a pair of con artists (Clay Clement, Janet Beecher) posing as a philanthropic couple. In agreeing to allow these two con artists raise money for him, Hickman’s medico must forego legitimate funding from a respectable charity, Hurts doesn’t quite have the “star wattage” of Shadows (though I did spot veterans like Joseph Crehan, Selmer Jackson and Virginia Brissac among the players) but it’s a heck of a lot more entertaining; there’s a scene in this two-reeler where a kid who depends on an iron lung dies because one of the couple’s confederates cold-bloodedly sabotages the electrical power in the clinic. The great thing about these Crime shorts is that everything is in black-and-white (both cinematically and morally)—so you know the guilty parties are going to be rounded up before the twenty minutes runs out. Hurts also has the distinction of being directed by journeyman Felix E. Feist, who made the series his bread-and-butter until he was able to branch out with some first-rate film noirs like The Devil Thumbs a Ride (1947), The Threat (1949), Tomorrow Is Another Day (1951) and This Woman Is Dangerous (1952).

*A phrase oft uttered by my father, whose propensity for bad jokes knows no equal.

We’ll go to our grave loving you

My Facebook compadre and fellow Ravenswood High Penitentiary inmate Forrest Poston (whose website is called Philosophy and Nonsense) saw my Don Reid tribute via Networked Blogs this morning and sent me a heads-up to this video—a wonderful tune entitled The Statler Brothers Song. The recording artists are a group known as Grandstaff Wilson Fairchild, and two of the members of this musical aggregation are cousins Wil and Langdon Reid, the sons of Statler Brothers brothers Don and Harold Reid. I wanted to post this because the song is really first-rate—it employs a lot of the titles of Statler hits in the lyrics, and I thought fellow fans would get a kick out of it.

Addendum: I received another message from Forrest about an hour ago informing that the band has since changed their name to Wilson Fairchild. Oh, and he also wanted me to shill for his other website, Gin-For Odditiques (or as he put it, "while we're doing commercials.") (I don’t want to do this, but he does have a cassette tape of me singing in the RHS version of the Our Miss Brooks musical—my hands are pretty much tied.)

Do you remember these?

Don Reid, the lead singer for the country music group The Statler Brothers (Don’s the bearded one, the others are brother Harold Reid [the bass singer], Phil Balsley [baritone] and Jimmy Fortune [tenor]) turns 65 today—and as a longtime Statler fan, I’m pleased to present him in today’s Thrilling Days of Yesteryear birthday spotlight. Sadly, the brothers Statler (for the uninformed, the “Statler” moniker came from a brand name of facial tissue) retired in 2002 (though Fortune is still in the music bidness with a solo career)…and the odds of hearing any of their songs on the radio nowadays are slim and none. (By the way—don’t tell my Mom about this post…if she found out I put up a picture of the Statlers without Lew Dewitt [the former tenor who passed away in 1990] she’d write out me out of the will faster than you can sing Do You Know You are My Sunshine?)

I’ve mentioned this on the blog in the past, but I’ve often speculated that my love for old movies and other areas of nostalgia just may have very well been influenced by several of the Statler Brothers’ songs; notably Whatever Happened to Randolph Scott, a tribute to the great B-western heroes of the past (the Statlers were huge fans of these films, often watching videotapes on their bus to pass the time while touring), and Do You Remember These—the lyrics of which I published in this post from 2008, when the group was inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame. Several other Statler Brothers hits—Pictures, The Class of ’57, Silver Medals and Sweet Memories, You Can’t Go Home, Carry Me Back, Susan When She Tried, How to Be a Country Star, The Official Historian on Shirley Jean Berrell—all worked a similar theme of a wistful longing for the past when things were simpler and not quite complicated, to borrow a lyric from one of their tunes.

I was about fourteen years old when the Statler Brothers took a tune called The Movies to the country Top Ten in 1977, and to this day I often find myself humming it when I’m preoccupied with writing or goofing around on the computer. Written by Lew Dewitt, it’s a celebration of those wonderful flickering silver screen images that have been a passion of mine since I stared in amazement at a forty-foot ape atop the Empire State Building so long ago. Through the magic of YouTube (though the person who transcribed these lyrics messed up a few times), I present Harold, Don, Phil and Lew—the Statler Brothers:

Mayberry Mondays #3: “The Race Horse” (10/07/68, prod. no. 0110)

In keeping with the equestrian theme of this episode, Sam Jones (Ken Berry) and his son Mike (Buddy Foster) are “strapping on the old feedbag,” finishing yet another delicious dinner prepared by their housekeeper, Beatrice “Aunt Bee” Taylor (Francis Bavier). (It’s a gourmet dish that Aunt Bee has difficulty pronouncing and I wasn’t even about to tackle spelling…so you’ll just have to trust me when I tell you it’s funny.) Dinner is interrupted by the ringing of the telephone, and upon answering it Sam learns that it’s his cousin Vince (OTR vet Jack Grimes) on the line, who announces his intention to pay them a visit since he’s passing through.

SAM: Oh…you know, I didn’t tell him how to get here…I’ll bet he’s forgotten after all these years…

AUNT BEE: Well, he just has to ask somebody…

SAM: Yeah… (With a chuckle) Hunh…

MIKE: Have I ever met your cousin Vince, Pa?

SAM: Well, yeah—just once, when you were about…oh, two years old…he put you up on a horse with him…he rode you all around the track…

MIKE: I don’t remember…what track?

SAM: A racetrack…this one was up in Maryland…

So Vincent is a racetrack tout? He hardly seems a proper role model for the impressionable young Mike. No, I’m kidding about that—Sam tells Mike that Vince is a former jockey, prompting Aunt Bee to remark: “You know, it always amazes me how those little men manage to steer those great big horses.” Sam patiently explains to her that horses are reigned, not steered—and besides, Vince is now a horse trainer. Aunt Bee then announces that she’ll have to get the guest room ready, and asks Mike if he’ll donate a picture of horses romping in the meadow that’s in his room to make Vince feel more at home. (Hell, why not just make him sleep in the barn?)

Cousin Vince drives up to Rancho Jones in a station wagon with a horse trailer in tow, as Mike excitedly announces to his father and Aunt Bee of Vince’s cargo. After the perfunctory meet-and-greet (Vince observes that Mike is “almost as tall as I am”), Sam’s relative asks if his passenger—who’s named Gingersnap—can get out and “stretch his legs a bit.” Sam, acting the proper country squire, assigns this task to a hired hand who answers to “Hank”—giving the audience the much-needed information that his farm is being looked after when he’s in town, mucking around Emmett Clark’s fix-it shop. (Unfortunately, Hank doesn’t get a screen credit…despite the fact that he has three lines. I wonder if SAG came down on the show like a ton of bricks.)

Sam is treating Vince to a cup of coffee when his cuz fills him in on the reason for his visit—he’s on his way to Baltimore, where a friend of his owns a restaurant that he wants Vince to partner in. As for the horse, Vince obtained the yearling when his former boss was unable to pay his back wages. He explains to Sam and Aunt Bee that Gingersnap isn’t a bad horse—he’s just never won a race, despite being the scion of Fairmont the Second (a horse that nearly won the Triple Crown) and Princess Wassein, an imported brood mare. (“Oooh…Gingersnap’s practically royalty,” coos Aunt Bee. “Yeah—almost calls for a curtsey,” returns Sam.) Vince asks Sam if he’ll keep the steed and if he’ll ask around to see if anyone needs a good saddle horse—the asking price being 300 clams. “Well,” observes Aunt Bee, sounding somewhat distraught, “a mother who’s a princess and a father who almost won the crown…and soon to be a saddle horse. Doesn’t seem fair.”

Well, we’re six minutes into this thing and Sam hasn’t been seen neglecting his orchards by jawing with Emmett (Paul Hartman), so the scene shifts to Mr. Clark’s bidness—where Mayberry’s fix-it savant is making a key and informing Sam that he may have located a buyer for the horse:

EMMETT: You know that fella that runs the stable over at that fancy girls’ boarding school in Walnut Hills?

SAM: Yeah…?

EMMETT: Well, he was in here this morning…he said he might be interested…

SAM: Oh, gee…that’s…that’s great, Emmett—I was beginning to give up hope of selling him…thanks, I appreciate it...

EMMETT: Oh, I always figure one hand washes the other… (Pointing to a repaired radio) If you happen to know anybody that’s interested in a Stromberg-Carlson radio…perfect condition…send ‘em around…

For those of you not up on your Mayberry arcana, “Walnut Hills” is the tonier section of television’s most famous small town—so why this guy is hanging out at Emmett’s is a question left unanswered. Fortunately for Sam, Emmett got the guy’s phone number and the gentleman—known as Mr. Bowers (Byron Morrow)—goes out to Sam’s farm to give the horse the once-over. Aunt Bee, it would seem, has other plans:

SAM: Uh, as I was saying, Mr. Bowers, he’s got a nice easy walk—and I know that’s very important with a saddle horse…especially at a girls’ school…nice, easy walk…

AUNT BEE: And he runs a lot, too…

(Sam looks surprised at this remark)

BOWERS: You did say he was gentle…

SAM: Gentle? Oh, gosh yes…why he…I’ve seen a lot of horses in my day, Mr. Bowers, but…this animal is without a doubt the gentlest horse I’ve ever seen…

AUNT BEE: Except when he gets charged up…

(Sam stares at Aunt Bee a second time)

BOWERS: When, uh…he gets charged up?

AUNT BEE: Oh, yes—he’s a very spirited animal…and when the mood strikes him, he likes to kick up his heels and buck and paw…

SAM (interrupting): Aunt Bee…

AUNT BEE: You know, those horses at the rodeo…

BOWERS: Yeah…yeah…Mr. Jones, I tell you what—I’d better sleep on this a couple of days…

SAM: Oh, now look, Mr. Bowers…

BOWERS (getting into his car): I’ll see you…

SAM: Yeah…well…he’s…really…

If this were real life, Sam would be having Aunt Bee committed right now. But because this is a wacky situation comedy, Sam resists the urge to give his housekeeper a necklace of fingers—in fact, he hands her the sports page of the paper later that evening when she asks to see it…because she wants to race Gingersnap at Morgan Downs, the local racetrack. (Maybe he should have her committed.) Sam tries to dissuade Aunt Bee by telling her of the prohibitive expense (it’s going to run her anywhere from fifty to a hundred simolians, and she is on a fixed income) but she dismisses this as a mere bag of shells and the next day, she and bakery doyenne Millie Swanson (Arlene Golonka) show up at the racing commissioner’s (Judson Pratt) office:

AUNT BEE: Yes, I have a very nice horse…and I’m wondering if you have any other horses he could run against…

BRICE: You have a horse?

MILLIE: Oh yes—four legs and everything…

AUNT BEE: Would Saturday be convenient? I imagine there’d be quite a crowd who’d like to come from Mayberry to see Gingersnap run…don’t you think so, Millie?

MILLIE: I do…

AUNT BEE: Hmm…Saturday, then…how much do I owe you?

BRICE: Well, just a minute, ma’am—are you the registered owner of the horse?

AUNT BEE: No…but Sam’s cousin is—Vincent Jones…and Sam said you might want to look over these papers…

(An incredulous Brice takes a sheath of papers offered to him by Aunt Bee and gives them a quick glance…)

BRICE: Gingersnap…two-year-old…well…everything’s in order here…now just what kind of a race did you want him to run in?

AUNT BEE: Well, I’m not particular…uh…maybe one of those seven furloughs you mentioned?

BRICE: No, that’s just for four-year-olds and up…

AUNT BEE: Oh…well, don’t you have something for horses around Gingersnap’s age on Saturday?

BRICE: Uh… (He looks over a piece of paper on his desk) Well, uh…how about the Blue Ridge Stakes for two-year-olds? Third race…

AUNT BEE: What time is that?

BRICE (after giving her another puzzled look): Three o’clock?

AUNT BEE: Oh, that will work out wonderfully…we’re going to have turkey for dinner…we can put the turkey in just before we leave and when we come back it’ll be all ready… (To Millie) I hope you’ll join us, Millie…

MILLIE: I’d love to…

AUNT BEE: Got to have a victory dinner, you know…

Aunt Bee coughs up the thirty-five dollars for the entry fee and Brice, though still unconvinced that Bee hasn’t escaped from the state cracker factory, agrees to find her a suitable jockey—“I think the smaller the better,” adds Millie helpfully. Brice also asks Aunt Bee about the name of the stable and the racing colors (for the program); she in turn informs him that she will call him later on with this information because she’s going to convene a meeting of the Mayberry think tank. (Well, that’s not precisely what she tells him—I embellished a tad.)

Wired on punch and cookies, Mayberry’s best and brightest are all in attendance at Sam’s home that evening…and they even allowed Goober Pyle (George Lindsey) in, too—who asks “Isn’t Andy coming to the meeting?” Rather than tell his pump jockey friend that Andy doesn’t live there anymore and he’s left everyone to fend for themselves on this sorry show, Sam makes up some fable about him being at a sheriff’s convention in Raleigh. (And the idiot buys it. Oddly enough, Howard Sprague is missing from this episode as well—which means he’s smarter than I previously gave him credit.) When the discussion turns to what name should be assigned to the “stables,” it’s out of the mouths of babes—young Mike suggests “Mayberry Stables,” and the adult react as if the little mook just split the atom. (That kid should already be in bed.) But what colors should be assigned to the horse?

“I got an idea,” Goober pipes up. “Red, yellow, pink, purple, orange and blue—them’s my favorites.” Realizing that the town should have put Goober to sleep a long time ago, Emmett counters: “You’ll never get all those colors on one jockey.” But when Millie lets slip that the Pom-Pom Girls from Mayberry High are coming along on the bus to watch the race (yowsah!), Aunt Bee suggests that the stallion be cloaked in red and green…and it’s passed with unanimous consent. “Hey, how ‘bout makin’ up a special victory cheer like…uh…clippety clop/clippety clop/don’t you stop/Gingersnop,” suggests Goober. (I wonder if that hot Dorothy girl he dated from last week’s episode has dumped him yet.)

It’s Race Day at Morgan Downs, and our Mayberry contingent is seated in the stands (I found it hard to stifle a chuckle when I saw Emmett chatting up a couple of the Pom-Pom Girls—he’s such a hound…). Goober spots Aunt Bee with Sam’s binoculars; she is giving Gingersnap’s jockey (Lou Wagner) a last minute set of instructions. When the jockey asks Bee how she wants him to ride the horse she replies: “Well, anyway you’re comfortable—just as long as you don’t fall off.” But she imparts to the confused jockey two specific requests: he is not to use “the whip” during the race (even if the horse has fallen behind) and he needs to give Gingersnap a lump of sugar just before the start (provided by Aunt Bee).

Back in the stands, Emmett reads in his program that the winner of the race will receive a $3000 purse—“That horse could be worth more than you and me put together,” he informs Goober. (Brother…you don’t know the half of it.) And…they’re off! Gingersnap is slow getting out of the gate, and Sam is certain that the horse is going to end up dead last. But Aunt Bee’s faith in the horse never falters, and as the race continues Gingersnap begins to pick up speed and catch up to his equine brethren and sistren. (There’s a nice bit of physical comedy as Goober grabs for Sam’s binoculars…and Sam ends up being pulled toward the Goob, since the binocs are around his neck. It made me misty for the bygone days of F Troop.) I don’t have to tell you experienced sitcom students that Gingersnap emerges victorious, and when Sam phones Vince to let him know he’s richer by three large (well, before the entry, barn and jockey fees) he decides that the restaurant business isn’t for him.

In the coda to this episode, Aunt Bee is approached by a neighbor—a Mr. Stebbins, another poor schmoe who doesn’t rate a mention during the closing credits—who wants to know if she can do the same thing for his horse, Smokey Dan, that she did for Gingersnap. Bee gives the filly the once-over and sadly tells Stebbins that the horse was bred for farming. “Better listen,” imparts Sam sagely. “She knows horse flesh.”

“The Race Horse” is an excellent example of the kind of Mayberry R.F.D. episode that has given the series the bland reputation it maintains to this day—or to use an observation by someone at the TV Party website: “If Mayberry R.F.D. was anything, it was evocative and insular. Even if there was no whip behind the cream, before you realized it, you were soaking in it.” Most of the Aunt Bee-centered episodes rightly deserve that description, but fortunately by this time actress Frances Bavier (sixty-five years old at R.F.D.’s start) had expressed an interest in working less, not more. According to the IMDb, Bavier only appears in twenty-five R.F.D. episodes…but because the information there is notoriously unreliable, I have decided to keep a running tally of Aunt Bee appearances with the state-of-the-art technology that I’d like to call the “Bee-O-Meter.” (Okay, smarty pants—you try inventing something with the math and science background I had.) With “Horse” and “Andy and Helen Get Married,” that adds up to two—which will henceforth be designated with the photo on the left.