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. David, hey, wait, don't walk so fast. I left my breath behind. Well, here we are now. And this darling is the site for the new schoolhouse. Well, now this is what I call a beautiful view. Is that what you call it? Standing right here and looking out. Didn't you use this for a view? Well, I happen to be building a schoolhouse, not a country estate. Well, I don't see why a schoolhouse shouldn't have a beautiful view. A beautiful view? A beautiful view from where? David, don't ask silly questions. You are telling me not to ask silly questions? The beautiful view is in the windows, of course. Oh. Where do you think a beautiful view is from? I have no idea. Dope. I would have as many as possible. What, views? Windows. Oh, windows. Oh. And then I think you should have... Darling, you don't mind my giving advice about the schoolhouse, do you? Oh, no, but you know, Claudia, sometimes I have a sneaky idea. Sometimes I have a sneaking suspicion that you have never been in a schoolhouse. Well, what would I have done in a schoolhouse? Played hooky, probably. Anyway, David, make it a beautiful schoolhouse. Give it a view. Give it a view. Just look at the slope of the hills out there. Now, why shouldn't it be built to face that way? There's no reason, my love, except that that's exactly the way that I planned it. I knew a man with your soul would see it my way. You did? Sure. You weren't even hard to convince. I wasn't. Oh, darling, this is going to be the loveliest schoolhouse. I don't think I'd even mind going to school here myself much. You'd mind going to school in Buckingham Palace. Well, I'd hate anything in Buckingham Palace. You know, the main trouble with school, David, is that when the weather is nice, there are better things to do. You're going to be a fine influence on our son. I will be sympathetic, but nothing else. I don't intend to forget my childhood. Forget it? What I'm worrying about is that you're ever going to get out of it. You say the sweetest things, Papa. I wish George Reynolds would get here. He said he'd meet me here at 9.30. I'm going to catch that 11 o'clock train to New York. The trouble with you, my good man, is that there should be two of you. Two of you? One to design this school, build it in Eastbrook, the other to carry on your other business in New York. David, you cannot go on cutting yourself into two parts like this. There'll be plenty left for you, so stop worrying. I hate to see you working so hard. Well, I like it. Well, just because you like something, don't get a stomach ache. You look tired. Yes, Mama. Anything else, Mama? Yes, Papa. Is this going to be a red brick schoolhouse? Could be. I'll certainly be proud, sending our children to the school that their own father built. Won't you? Wait till you see it. I don't have to see it. I'll be proud. I know. I wonder what it would be like to be married to a man who isn't a narcotainer. Well, probably the only difference would be that your children wouldn't go to a school that their father built. No, no, no. There'd be lots of differences. Whew. Say, if you're cold, why don't you go home? It was your idea to come, remember? No, I'm not cold. I don't want to go home. My idea to come was an excellent one. Yes, but you just shivered. Well, I was just thinking of all the other men in the world I'm glad I'm not married to. Well, you ought to tell them. They'll be flattered. I guess I'm a sort of a one-track woman who only wants to be married to the father of my child. Now, that is very sweet. I wish that George Reynolds would get here. You're always changing the subject, David. Well, wondering why George Reynolds isn't here is a much better subject for talking about on the street than all of the other men that you haven't married. Not half as interesting, darling. But if you insist, go on, tell me more about the schoolhouse. I didn't insist. Well, you've hardly talked to me about it at all. We've talked about it continuously for the last three months. Yes, you and Roger, you and George Reynolds, you and your blueprints. Not you and I, darling, so come on, start talking. All right, now just exactly what is it that you want to know? I want to know what kind of a schoolhouse it's going to be. You're the authority? Not I. The only authority on a schoolhouse are the people who use it. School teachers, you mean? No, I think school children. Oh. I wonder why I hadn't thought of that before. David, stop standing around rubbing your chin. Tell me what it is you hadn't thought of before. My chin, I rub it over the wall. I thought you always thought of what everything before. Why not ask a child just exactly what kind of a school he'd like to go to? Well, it's too late, isn't it? I mean, aren't you finished with your blueprints and plans? I don't suppose I'd have to change anything radically, but hey, come on. While we're waiting for George Reynolds, let's find that kid that I saw down the street and ask him. David, now listen, maybe you, you better not. Why not? Well, your plans are so nice and pretty. Your blueprints are so blue. Well, it just might be a shame if you had to go and start all over at the beginning. You mean that you don't think that any school building that I would design would suit a kid? No, I didn't say that. You not only said it, you were thinking it. It's not what I'm thinking. I do think it's too late to think anything. Ah, rubbish. All right, rubbish if you like, but... Hello there. Louder, David. Hush up. Louder, he won't hear you. Am I not even allowed to shout the way I please anymore? Poor, poor man. Poor, poor man. Shout any way you please. Only shout louder. Hello there. Are you calling me, mister? You busy just now? Just fixing my bike. Oh, stay where you are. I'll come over to you. I'd like to ask you a few things if you don't mind. What kind of things? Well, the first thing you better ask him is why he's here fixing his bicycle instead of being in school. Seems to me it is 9.30 of a Tuesday morning. Hello there, son. My name's David Norton. Hi. Hi. Say, did you say you were David Norton? Yeah, that's right. This is my wife, Mrs. Norton. How do you do? Oh, sure, I know you. A friend of mine is a pal of yours. Oh? You mean Jimmy? That's right. I'm Tim. Tim Mills from down the other side of Cream Hill. Oh, Tim. How are you, Tim? You go right on fixing your bike now. Don't let me bother you. I, um, I just thought we might have a talk together. What kind of a talk? Well, it happens I'm designing a new schoolhouse. Oh, yeah. I heard something about that. Seems to me, Mr. Norton, that you could build a lot of better things than schoolhouses. I, um, I don't mean to be nosy, Tim, but shouldn't you be in school now? Oh, me? I'm quarantined. You're quarantined? I had the mumps. The quarantine is off tomorrow. Oh, I see. I feel fine, though. Dopey thing to get, the mumps. Maybe lose out on basketball. But I'll be OK for spring baseball. So no use beefing. Nope. Never any use beefing. Hey, Tim, I think you'll find that if you put that spoke in from the outside of the wheel first, it'll fit better. Oh, yeah. I see what you mean. Now slide it around there. Yeah. That goes in easy now. Thanks, mister. Well, now, Tim, you just said that you didn't think that Eastbrook needed a new schoolhouse. Well, it ain't up to me. But heck, why are grown-ups always building schoolhouses? I guess maybe it's because they've been out of school so long. Maybe like you, for instance. And just because I've been out of school so long, Tim, I thought that you could tell me what the new schoolhouse ought to be like. Well, I don't know. Take it that you think that the whole idea is not so hot, is it? Well, school does interfere with an awful lot of things. Yes, I'll bet it does. Like football practice, for instance. Hunting and sleigh riding. Is that it? School puts an awful crap in a kid's time. I imagine. Do you realize that kids gotta spend practically all day in school? Yes, I see what you mean. This was your idea, David. Hush up. And you'd prefer spending all day, every day, every day in and out playing football? Sure. All the year round, mind you. Twelve months of the year. Well, for a while I would. Oh, I see. For a while. I guess, though, for the rest of the time you gotta have a school. I suppose a fella has to know how to read and write, too. But then we should have shorter classes and more time in between. Say, Tim, I think I have just the plan that would suit you. What's that? How would you like school to be from twelve to one every day with an hour off for lunch? Yeah, that's... Are you pulling my leg or something? That's sort of what you said, isn't it? I wouldn't go that far. But you can say that I'd prefer shorter classes... No, all right. That much we'll admit. ...and more play. One of the troubles is that our classes always gotta get out of the gym to make room for the next class's gym period. Oh, two gymnasiums. That's what you want. Gee, well occurs. If we had two gyms and swimming. Swimming could be a heck of a lot of fun. Swimming pool. That's what you want. With a high, twenty-foot springboard, probably. Boy, oh, boy, some school. Well, there you have it, David. Your new schoolhouse. It consists of two gymnasiums and a swimming pool. Yeah, it would be something new. Studying history in a swimming pool and learning algebra and Latin on a trapeze bar. You wouldn't learn much that way, mister. No? Schoolhouses have gotta have classrooms, too. Oh, you don't say. And classrooms don't have to be too bad if they're not too big so you can see the maps well and hear the teachers easy. I see. And if there are a lot of windows to look out of. A nice view out the window. Hear that? Yeah, something cheerful. So that when you're locked inside you don't feel as if the world isn't going to be there when you get out. A school with a view. Sure is a shame a kid's gotta go to school. Well, as George Bernard Shaw once said, it's a pity that youth is wasted on the young. Yes, Tim, I couldn't agree with you more. It is a shame. But what are we going to do about it, you and I? I don't know what we can do, mister. I've been asked to build a schoolhouse and you're going to be asked to go there. I guess we'll have to do what we're asked to do. Oh, it's not so bad, I guess. Well, just the other day I was wondering what I'd do if I didn't have school. Guess I'd have to help Mom around the house a lot, running errands for her and good chores for Pop. Well, school is an improvement over that, believe you me. Oh, you think so? We got a swell bunch of guys and some of the stuff we learn ain't so bad. It isn't? I guess, mister, when you stop to think about it, it could be a lot worse. I don't see why it should be so bad. Well, Tim, the school that isn't so bad, that will be the kind of school we'll try to give you. There's George Reynolds coming down the street. Oh, yeah, so. Well, thanks for the talk and your advice, Tim. Don't mention it, mister. Say, you know something? What's that? I kind of think the school you'll build will be swell. If you see Jimmy, tell him I'll be back with the guys tomorrow. All right. See you, Tim. See you, mister. Right. Bye-bye. You know something else, David? I think the school you're building will be swell, too, mister. Oh, you do that. Yep, more than ever. I wouldn't have my children's father be anybody else than the man who built the school with a view. All of us do our share of waiting around. In shops we wait, in lobbies, waiting for service or waiting for friends. Whenever you have to wait, here's a suggestion. Look around for one of those friendly red coolers. Slip a nickel in the slot. Have a nice cold Coca-Cola and wait refreshed. Coke brings you the pause that refreshes anytime, anywhere. Say, he's a swell guy, isn't he? Yes, Tim, all of us around here think that he's a pretty swell guy. Talking to him is almost like talking to the one of the gang. It's hard to think he's so old. David old? Why, Tim, wait till you're his age. You won't think so then. But if you want to see somebody really old, you ought to see Jared Tucker. Jared Tucker? Well, I've seen him around. But you can't discuss him because nobody's as old as Jared Tucker. What do you mean? Well, it's just that if... well, it's hard to say what I mean, but in spite of what I say, I don't think anybody is as young as Jared Tucker is either. I still don't know what you mean. Well, you got me kind of balled up here, Tim, but I mean that there's a great sympathy between the very old and the very young. Why, it might just be that Jared Tucker at 86 and David's baby son at seven months would hit it off perfectly. Aw, go on. Well, come around tomorrow when Jared Tucker babysits for the Nottons and see for yourself. 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. 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.
