Your Coca-Cola Bottler presents Claudia, based on the famous play and novels by Rose Franken. Brought to you transcribed Monday through Friday by your friendly neighbor who bottles Coca-Cola. Relax, and while you're listening, refresh yourself. Have a Coke. And now, Claudia. Oh, oh, I see you. You're right there. Well now, what can I do for you, Miss? Well, I see you have a sign out, fresh eggs. That's right. And the store in the village is closed, so if you could let me have a dozen? Be glad to. Sixty-seven cents for the large and sixty-one for the medium. Sometimes I have a pull of eggs, but I ain't got any today. Sorry. Dear, that's all be expensive. Late this morning, white or brown, take your choice. Well, how much are the brown eggs? Brown, well, same price as the white ones, Miss. Oh, well in New York, brown eggs are quite a lot cheaper. In Boston, they're quite a lot more expensive. Oh, and in Connecticut, they're the same price, I see. Mm-hmm. Connecticut's about halfway between. Be that as it may, eggs is eggs to them as knows them. The hens get the same feed, they're treated just the same. So there's absolutely no reason for brown eggs to be cheaper. No, I suppose you're right about that. Besides, once they're fried, nobody'd know whether they're brown or white in the first place anyway. Precise, precise. It's a superstition, so to speak. Yeah. How many dozen did you say you wanted? One'll be fine. One? All right. There you are, ma'am. They're all done up and ready. Thank you. And here you are. Come again, ma'am, and say, ain't you the people who bought the tuck a place to spell down the road? Yes, we are. We're so near, we hear your roosters crowing in every morning. Huh, talking of roosters, what about some chickens? Got some fine broilers and roasters. Friar's true. Well, if you can broil a friar, I could have it for dinner tonight. Broilers is fryers, miss. 44 a pound. Oh, well, that's very reasonable. They're 59 at Franco's. Heh, self-same broilers. I sell my chickens to Franco. You mean there's that much difference in price? That's right. Well, Franco certainly has a nerve. Precise, precise. You should have known it'd be cheaper to buy off a farm than out of a butcher. How many, ma'am? Broiler, rooster, friar. Friar, please. And one will do, thank you. If it's large enough, that is. Right, right, I'll fetch him. Will he be nice and fresh? Heh, so fresh he'll be crowing. Come along. You can take your pick. Oh, careful of that wire there. Oh, thank you. I don't want you to trip now. Oh, I know, I'm getting used to farms. Why, what a lot of chickens. They all look like little fat old ladies in gingham aprons. That's the Plymouth Rock. Nice, tender eatin'. Hey, hey, there's a nice young fella there. Oh, he's lovely. All right, I'll see if I can get him for you. Here, watch, he don't... here. Come on, found him. There I go. But he's alive. With his hisses, feathers and everything. Well, certainly. Oh, he's sound alive. We want him to... I mean, you see, we don't want a pet. We want him for dinner. Well, yeah, sure thing. You buy a chicken on a chicken farm around here, and you buy him alive. Oh, well, then I'm sorry. I don't think I'm interested. It's up to you, ma'am, but this is the freshest kind of chicken you can buy. Well, I think maybe he's just a little too fresh for me. Well, have it your own way, ma'am. I guess you're a city folk, all right. You mean to say it's only city folk who buy dead chickens? Yep, that's what I mean. Oh, I see. Of course, if you want to go down to Franco's, if it was open, waste the gas in your car and spend 15 cents a pound more for the same bird, well, it's up to you. Well, I must say everything you say makes sense, except he's alive. Just listen to him. Well, like I say, ma'am, it's up to you. But look here, look here. Now, just see how nice and fat this broiler is. I don't know what he's called a broiler yet. I think we ought to call him a rooster, to his face anyway. Just look, just look. There's lots of fine white meat, tender as butter and just as sweet. And 44 cents instead of 59. Three pounds, three ounces. Tell you what, I'll let you have him for a dollar and thirty-five. Maybe you'd do it for me? Do it? Just sell him live. That way even the feathers belong to you. So awfully pretty. Got your car here, ma'am? Yes. Well, I'll just tie the little fellow's feet together so it'll be easy to tow him along with you. Look, I don't think he likes being held upside down like that. He don't mind. Birds don't get dizzy. How can you be so sure? And look here, ma'am, this is the way you hang him after you've chopped off his head. I've changed my mind. Please untie him. Well, he'll jump out of the car if I do. No, what I mean is I'll just take the eggs. But after I got him all fixed up and... Lookie here, miss. You're making a big mistake because once you get the habit of buying poultry fresh off the farm, well, you just don't go back to the other way and that's the truth. I won't, you're sure? I'll put him right in the car for you, ma'am. Sit him down right next to you in the front seat. Oh, if you don't mind, I'd rather not get so well acquainted. If it's all the same with you... Well... Now, look at my wife. She don't think twice about it now. Just remember, chop his head off. Yeah, I'll remember, thank you, but I wish I could forget. So does he. Claudia, is that you? Mama? It's us, Mama. Oh, is David home already? You better have the omelette then. Did you bring the eggs? Yes, I brought the eggs. But, Mama, listen, who likes an omelette, really? It's just an unformulated mess of chicken, that's all. What are you talking about? Anne. What on earth? Isn't he pretty, though? Where'd you get him? Where I got the eggs. He's just a very precocious egg, that's all. What for? Where do you get him? I got him for dinner. He's a broiler. Three pounds, three ounces, aren't you, babe? But he's alive. And kicking, even tied up. Oh, I had an awful time in the car with him. Oh, why did you do it, you crazy child? Mama, country people always buy poultry on the hoof. Who said so? The man I brought him from. Well, he didn't say on the hoof exactly, but... But that's what it amounts to. I think I ought to untie his hoofs, don't you? He doesn't seem very comfortable, poor little thing. There's nothing to what he's going to be. Mama, stop making such a face. Do you know how much I save? 15 cents a pound. That's a lot. When the chicken is plucked and cleaned, he'll end up a lot more expensive than if you'd bought him at the butcher. Oh, nonsense, you're a killjoy. Which is rather fortunate on the whole, because all you have to do is just chop his head. All I have to do? Oh, very simple. The man says his wife does it all the time. And if his wife does it, surely my mother is just as smart. What? Your mother is leaving this kitchen immediately. Mama, you can't do this to me, in my condition. Well, you should have thought of that before. Before what? Oh, Mama, it was like a bad dream. All I could think of was the 15 cents a pound. Oh, you and your bargains. Here, put him on the table and I'll get the scissors. You can't do it with the scissors. I just want to untie his legs. Oh, and then what? Well, then I think we should let him walk around and stretch himself. That's a good idea, Mrs. Brown. He's quite an active little rooster, isn't he? He can close that door so he doesn't get in the living room. He has black eyes. Just like little beads. I never knew a simple rooster could have so much personality. Claudia, I do wish you'd never brought him home. I guess that means we'd better wait for David to do it. After all, it's man's work. And David is so manly about man's work, he won't mind. Will he? Don't ask me. He's your husband. Yes, he's my husband. But he never was my husband with a rooster in the kitchen before. Oh, I wish he'd come. Oh, shut up, shut up, shut up. You're supposed to wish he wouldn't. The longer I watch this rooster, the less I think of him as a broiler. Me too. Well, I'd better get ready to go to the station. It's almost time. And leave me alone with this... this... What's that? It's a car. It's a taxi pulling away from the house. Hello, hello. Darling, what's the matter? That's a fine welcome. Nothing's the matter. Caught the early train and I didn't want you to drive down to the station in a hurry. Very sensible and we're very glad to see you. You haven't any idea. What was that? What was that? That sounded like a rooster crowing. Rooster crowing? Mama, he's been drinking again. Oh, damn. I suppose he thinks he hears it again. Probably. Now, what's got into you two? Nothing yet. Where is he? Ah, it's under the stove. And the trick is to get it in the stove. Here he comes. Wait a minute, I'll get him. Trusty little fool. Here, kitty. Smart how he answers the kitty. Oh, isn't he smart? I'm seeing things. I'll call a doctor immediately. We prefer a butcher. Mama, stop saying that in front of him. He makes him nervous. Him who? The rooster, not you. Oh. He's... Well, you see, he's your dinner, David. Oh. Which of you two women is responsible for this? Me. He was a bargain. I see. We get the feathers and everything. You bought my broilers this way, David. You're sure they're fresh? Fresh, yeah. Well, he might be fresh, but he looks skinny. Oh, he isn't, though. He's three pounds, three ounces, and very tender. Well, then why isn't he cooking? He will be any minute now. I see. Ahem. Do you want to use a knife or a hatchet? What's so funny? What's the matter? So that's it. You two sissies, you. Sissies. We've known him longer than you have. Besides, you're a man, and you're always bragging about it. There are times when I could cheerfully ring your two necks. Shh, David, not in front of him. He's very sensitive. Please. Oh, sorry, old boy. Come here, Mama. What? Come in closer. What? I have an idea. What? What? I won't use the axe. I will use a hatchet. I can't bear it. I'm leaving. Now, come here, old boy. Don't go near him, Rooster. David, unhand that bird. Unhanding? Yes. Well, I thought you wanted me to chop off his... Well, I love animals around the house, and he looks an awful skinny animal to me. That's right, Mama. Hey, Mama, he's emaciated, positively emaciated. He wouldn't be enough for three people, I'm sure of that. Besides all those feathers, oh, David, I think he's much too old to be a broiler. He's tough as anything. Where'd you buy him from? Just down the road. David, are you going to take him back? No, darling, I'm just going to buy him a hen. Woo-hoo-hoo! Now that shortages are almost over, you'll find lots of improvements in your favorite shops. One of the most welcome modern services is the Coca-Cola cooler you see installed in your market, department store, and service station. It's mighty nice to be able to stop in the midst of marketing for the pause that refreshes, especially since Coca-Cola is only five cents. Well, it looks like there's a new member in the family. A Plymouth Rock Rooster. Well, they're nice to have around. I don't think any of us are going to be able to eat broilers again, however. We're too closely related. I know what you mean. At any rate, we won't be faced with a problem tomorrow night. David's planning to take us all out to dinner. Well, that'll be nice if you get to where you're going. Why shouldn't we? Well, it could be that you'll have a little trouble with the tire on the way. Oh, dear. And when you have a flat tire the same day that your back porch caves in, and the back porch has to be jacked up, well, anyway, I'm just warning you, Mrs. Brown, eat a hearty lunch. And I'll take your advice, Joe, and I'll also be back tomorrow to find out what happens to us with a flat tire and without a jack. Goodbye. Goodbye, Mrs. Brown. As I was about to say, every day, Monday through Friday, Claudia comes to you transcribed with the best wishes of your friendly neighbor who bottles Coca-Cola. So listen again tomorrow at the same time. And now this is Joe King saying au revoir. And remember, whoever you are, whatever you do, wherever you may be, when you think of refreshment, think of Coca-Cola, for Coca-Cola makes any pause the pause that refreshes, and ice-cold Coca-Cola is everywhere. This broadcast of Claudia was supervised and directed by William Brown Maloney. And now here's a word from your friendly neighbor who bottles Coca-Cola.