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. Claudia, get out of my light and push the chair over by the fireplace while you're at it. All right. Say, Mama, how do you think I look? Same as usual. Is that all I can get out of you? Absolutely all. I wish I had a more positive kind of looks. You know, I don't look like anything. You look like you and leave it alone. I look like me, but what does me look like? You break the living room mirror, Claudia, if you stare in it much longer. David will be home any minute. He's used to your face. Stop worrying. Hush up, Mama. Oh, he said he might bring Lottie with him. Lottie? Is that the famous secretary? That? She. She is a classic. But David says she's a more talented secretary than any he's ever had. And she has a heart of gold besides. What more does anybody want? Well, I think Roger would want her to have a different speaking voice and vocabulary. But I told him not to look a talented secretary in the mouth. That was very wise of you. Claudia, what caused that heartbreaking sigh? Now take Lottie. She's so good at her job. For a secretary, she's a real secretary. Look at me. You've been looking at you for hours now. Why should I? I'm a nothing. I'm a terrible farmer's wife. Where did you get the idea you were a farmer's wife? From my husband. Who happens to be one of the better young architects in the country. But at heart, he's a farmer. It's written all over him. Even his face. Yes, I dare say it is. Hm. I wonder what it is about him. Is so. I guess so. Mama, don't you think I look a little like a farmer's wife? Not a bit. You don't even sound like one. How do they sound? I don't know. But I live on a farm. You don't know the first thing about a farm. Oh, yes I do. What? Well, I know that you have to have lived on a farm at least 20 years before it starts counting. Before what starts counting? It. Oh, it. Claudia, leave your hair alone. I'm just, just trying something. Putting it up on top of your head isn't going to make you look like a farmer's wife. You think you're so smart, Mrs. Brown. Yes, I think I am, Mrs. Norton. You know, in New York, I feel as if everybody on the streets knows I'm from the country. In Eastbrook, as if everybody knows I'm from the city. That's a happy state to be in. I am just a fraud. I am neither fish nor foal. Who wants to be a fish anyway? I do. A fish belongs someplace. Look at Fritz out there, working in the fields. He looks as if he'd always been there, like a fish. In a way, he has always been there. There's such assurance about him. He's so instinctively a part of the land. He's, he's professional about it. Hmph. I envy him. That's the first sensible thing you've said today. And Bertha baking bread in the kitchen, cutting parsley in the garden. She belongs, too. Just smell that bread baking. I could get drunk on that smell. I think you are. I think I are, too. Now, fix your hair decently, Claudia. You don't want to look like that for David. All right. I'll get up. In ten or fifteen years, you'll look the part. That's something to look forward to, anyway. Mrs. Norton, you are in the living room? Yes, Fritz, come right on in. I have a surprise for you. I love surprises. What is it? Good evening, Mrs. Brown. Fritz, don't keep us in suspense. What is it you've got? Well, perhaps it is not so much a surprise, but... It's going to be difficult, Mama. Perhaps you have been expecting it. Can't any man tell a person something without first killing them with suspense? Well, I hope it will be something that you care for. You better tell her right off, Fritz, or she'll bust waiting. Speak for yourself, Mrs. Brown. Well, it is really not so much to make a fuss about. Oh, this is excruciating. It is a present from your farm. I can't imagine. Eight ears of corn. Corn? Yeah. Nice, even yellow corn, and not one worm. Not one worm. Oh, I can't wait till dinner. Oh, it will be very sweet and hardly needs any cooking. It will be delicious. There's nothing like garden fresh corn. I don't think I love anything in the world as much as fresh corn. Fritz, how come no worms? Ah-ha. That is the farmer's secret. You see, Mama, I'm on the outside again. But since you someday will be a farmer, so I will tell you. Someday. Tricks of the trade. I bet you David wouldn't tell me either. He'd just keep Mom and be superior. I... I go bring the corn to Bertha now. Fritz, would you mind telling her to add a half cup of sugar to the water she boils the corn in? Then it'll really be sweet. Mama, that's cheating. Wait till you taste it, Claudia. Our corn can stand on its own sweetness, thank you. Oh, I will tell her, Mrs. Brown. Oh, one other thing, Mrs. Norton. Yes, Fritz? Pretty soon. Peaches. Ours? Yes, ours. What do you know? How about apples? She wants everything. Apples, they're not so good this year. Well, they've got a nerve. Why? Well, it's hard to tell. Perhaps too much rain during the pollination season. Oh, I see. Oh, was the tree sprayed? Every last one of them. Just ask my pocketbook. Well, it happens. Perhaps next year the peaches will not be good and the apples will. Hmm, it's certainly undependable. Claudia, trees are only human. Anyhow, you will have much corn for many weeks. Oh, now I go to give it to Bertha. And I don't forget to tell her about the sugar, Mrs. Brown. He's a wonderful man. Knows his onions. And his corn and apples and peaches, too. Now I feel more on farmery than ever. Wait till you eat your own corn. That'll restore your confidence. Ha, on the contrary. Whee, there's David. Claudia, not so fast. You'll frighten him away. Good evening, Mr. Norton. And what a beautiful evening, Mrs. Norton. Oh, and Lottie, you did come on out. Oh, I'm sure I'm glad that I did. It's a sensational drive up. Lottie never saw a tree before, you'd think. Almost. Never saw many all at once. Everything is so green. Looks good enough to eat. You think you'd like to live up here? Well, it's an awfully long drive to the drugstore on the corner, ain't it? Well, that's true. Gee, listen to the birds, will you? That's our crow. A crow? You got one of them, too? Sure have. What do you know? How much of all this space is yours? Well, you see that hill with the trees on top of it? Uh-huh. That's ours. Then our line stretches out over beyond those fields on the left. Then through that woodland to the brook on the right. Gee, you can take yourself a walk and never leave home. I suppose you'd call that an advantage. Would you like to walk around the outside before we go in the house? Sure, sure I would. You know, I'm a city girl, born and raised in New York. The Bronx, as a matter of fact. I don't like the country. Not as a rule, I don't. Well, maybe that's because you don't know it. Could be. Except, of course, I get vacations. Two weeks, usually, in August. As a matter of fact, you're going away next week, aren't you? That's right, Mr. Norton. Anywho, as I was saying, I used to go away on my vacations. You know, to the lake or the mountains. Sometimes even so far away as Maine. Oh, I've never been to Maine. Have I, David? No, no. I used to pack my suitcase full of stuff. Make a reservation centuries ahead and look forward to it like a kid having to take castor oil. You mean you didn't like going away? It was awful. Rain solid the whole time, usually. Never met one interesting face. Swimming would wreck my hair. Sunburn would make me peel. Food would give me heartburn. And I'd come home flat or broke in an ironing board. Take me months to pull myself together again. Oh, Lottie, that is the saddest story I've ever heard. And every word of it the truth. Now I've got more sense. I spend my vacations right at home. No packing, no traveling, no spending a lot of dough. I've got my friends, so I don't need to make no introductions all the time. The food is swell. And New York City proper is a very entertaining place when you've got two weeks and nothing to do. I'll bet it is. Gee, this is sure a rocky piece of land you've got. Well, it's Connecticut. Connecticut is very rocky. That's one of the reasons the first settlers here deserve so much credit. Hmm, you don't say. Careful you don't twist your anecho, Lottie. Hmm, I guess high heels ain't the thing to wear up here. Low heels murder my instep. Just a little ways further. I thought you might like to see our corn growing. It grows right here on your place? Right here. You can go to have some for dinner. The first corn, David. Oh, that's quite an occasion. It is? I've been eating corn all summer. Well, that's different. Oh? Wait till you taste ours and you'll see why. I take your word. Say, the sun is sure strong up here. You ought to feel it at noon. I'll bet you my freckles are popping out right now. Oh, I didn't think to bring out suntanned lotion. Well, this is late afternoon, son Lottie. It won't hurt you. I'm very sensitive. At least my skin is. Well, here's the corn patch. Mmm. Corn has come up beautifully. Don't you think so, David? Oh, we'll be eating corn for weeks and weeks. Well, you're not breaking my heart. I love it. Do you realize, Lottie, all this corn and not one worm... Not one worm? Not one. Is that good? Well, it's practically a record. You mean there's a trick to it? There certainly is. Oh, there certainly is. Oh, and David, a message from the trees. The peaches will be good, but the apples won't. You don't say, as if I didn't know. I do, I do. Oh, I'm impressed. And I got pebbles in my shoes. Oh, I guess we better go back to the house. Maybe after dinner I can lend you a pair of mine. You can see our brook and the walnut tree. Gee, you're a regular mountain goat, ain't you, Mrs. Norton? David, is that a nice thing to call anybody? Very nice and very apt. I meant it as a compliment. Of course you did. You know, sometimes I think I ought to keep my mouth shut more. I notice every time I open it, Mr. Kidd and Winston... Oh, that's not true, Lottie. It's my English. Your partner, Mr. Norton, is such a proper man. But if I keep my mouth shut, how am I going to say anything? Well, I understand your problem, Lottie. Hey, we ought to introduce you to our cat, our dog, our sun, our rooster. You've got a regular menagerie up here. Well, come back in six months and we'll really have something to show you. We're going to get animals. I can't wait. Mrs. Norton, if I had a hat on, I would take it off to you. What have I done now? If I didn't know you was from New York, I'd never guess. You're more of a farmer's wife than a farmer's wife. Flat shoes, no hat, no worms in the corn, apples, peaches, rootsters. Lottie is impressed. Oh, Lottie, you couldn't have said anything that would please me more. And I mean it, every first word of it. I must admit, darling, next to Lottie, you've got hay in your hair. Do you like it, David? It is very becoming and a little startling. Lottie, you must come up here more often. To a farm? And you must open your mouth more often, too. Did I say something right? Lottie, you don't know what you've done for me tonight. I guess I don't. Don't you realize that in ten minutes you put hay in my hair and given David a farmer's wife who feels like a farmer's wife. Just wait till I tell Mama I'm a changed woman. When you stop at a fountain for lunch, you probably order Coke, as so many people do. But it may not occur to you that you can snap up your work-a-day home lunch with ice-cold Coca-Cola. What would be easier? There it is right in the refrigerator, if you remembered to bring home a carton. Put Coke on your marketing list and keep half a dozen bottles on ice. Then you can lunch refreshed any day of the week. Hi, Mr. King. Oh, Lottie, welcome to Eastbrook. Thanks. I just got a mosquito bite. What? Mosquitoes up here? Don't they bite you? I have noticed. Mosquitoes always have a yen for me. Something chemical about it, I think. There's a run in your family? It runs in me. Say, Mrs. Norton sure has took to this farm, ain't she? She sure has. Got real plucks she has. You know, no wonder Mr. Norton is so much in love with her. Claudia would like to hear you say that. Go on, she knows it. She knows it, but she likes to hear it, too. All us girls do, even me. It's our psychology. Well, I suppose I'll find out a little more of your psychology on Monday when I eavesdrop on Claudia and Mrs. Brown. Well, so long, Lottie. Hope you enjoy your stay on the farm. I will. Goodbye, Mr. King. 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 Monday 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. These programs star Katherine Bard as Claudia and Paul Crabtree as David. And the entire production is supervised and directed by William Brown Maloney. And now here's a word from your friendly neighbor who bottles Coca-Cola.
