Original subtitles

- Dennis, why are you standing in the corner?

- You'll find out as soon as the phone rings.

[phone rings]

[theme music]

- All right.

- What in the world are you doing that for, Mr. Wilson?

- Hello, Mr. Dorfman.

Oh, I'm trying to chase away these blasted starlings.

They're just ruining my garden.

- Yeah, they're all over the neighborhood.

- Yeah.

Well, according to a book I have on pest control,

loud noises are supposed to scare 'em away.

- They don't look very scared to me.

- Yeah.

But I've just gotta keep on trying.

Uh, some mail for me?

- Oh, yeah.

There's a magazine.

- Oh, thanks.

- And your telephone bill and a letter from Mrs. Wilson.

- Oh.

Anything else?

You see, tomorrow's my birthday.

I was expecting a few cards.

- Well, I'll just take a look.

How long is Mrs. Wilson going to be away?

- Oh, as long as her mother needs her.

Can't say for sure.

- No, I'm afraid that's all for today.

- What's that one?

That looks like my sister's handwriting.

- Oh, that's for Miss Cathcart.

- Oh.

- Boy, do I hate to deliver mail there.

- Is she still chasing you?

- Still chasing and still singing those songs.

Do you know that she usually waits

for me right by the mailbox?

- Oh, down by that arch, huh?

- No, no.

It's up on the front porch now.

She moved it up there so she'd get a better crack at me.

- Oh, those blasted birds.

Go away!

- You seem to have more of them than anyone.

- I know and I just can't understand it.

I'm certainly doing my part to drive them off.

- Boy, you sure have thrown a lot of bread

into Mr. Wilson's yard this week.

- Yeah.

Before I started doing it, he didn't

have practically any starlings at all.

- Maybe he doesn't like starlings.

- Mr. Wilson?

Sure he does.

Mr. Wilson loves all birds.

He's even a member of the bird watchers.

- Yeah. That's right.

- Tomorrow's Mr. Wilson's birthday.

And you know what I'm going to get him for a present?

- What?

- A whole loaf of bread to feed his starlings with.

- I wonder who's doing all that banging?

- I don't know, but I wish they'd stop.

They're making the birds so nervous they might fly away.

- Well, those starlings sure make a lot of noise.

- Sure.

That's the best thing about them.

'Cause all the time they're singing.

- Shoo!

Oh, that screeching is driving me out of my-- Say,

maybe a different kind of sound would--

- [whistling]

- The door.

- Oh, great Scott!

I'm locked out.

Oh, shut up!

- Mr. Dorfman, were you trying to hide from me again?

- Oh, no, Miss Cathcart.

I, I just didn't want to disturb you.

I thought perhaps you were taking a nap.

- I've got some cookies and milk waiting for you.

- Oh, well, I can't stop now, Miss Cathcart.

I've got to deliver the mail

- Oh, in these filthy shoes?

Now you come right in the house.

I'll get my nice brightening for you.

- Uh, that's right.

You'll have to pick the lock.

The address is 625 Elm Street. That's right.

Fine.

Well, I'll expect you right away.

Goodbye.

Thanks for the use of the phone, Mitchell.

- Oh, that's all right, Mr. Wilson.

How'd you lock yourself out?

- Oh, well, I, I was out on the front porch

trying to scare the starlings away,

and uh, uh, a draft caught the door.

- These starlings are a real problem this year.

I've never seen so many.

They're all over the neighborhood.

- I'm home!

- How many times have I told you about slamming that door?

Now go back out, and come in again.

- OK.

- Well, I think I'd better be running along.

- Hi, Mr. Wilson.

Boy, are you glad to see me.

- Oh? Why?

- 'Cause tomorrow's your birthday,

and I got a swell surprise for ya.

- Why, Dennis.

That was very nice of you.

You're my good little friend.

- I know it.

You want me to sit on your lap?

- Eh, well.

Ooh!

- 'Scuse me, Mr. Wilson.

Did I put my knee in your stomach?

- Yes, you did.

- I'll get off and get on again.

- Oh, no.

Aren't you going to tell me what you're

giving me for my birthday? - Heck, no.

Then it wouldn't be a surprise.

- Well, aren't you even going to give me a hint?

- Nope.

But you'll like it.

What are you doing over here, Mr. Wilson?

- Oh, I came over to use the telephone to call a locksmith.

I, I can't get into my house, Dennis.

- How come you can't get into your house?

- Well, I was out on the front porch, and a gust of wind

blew the door shut behind me. - Geepers.

I'll climb up your drain pipe and go in your bedroom window.

- No!

- How about if I climb down your chimney?

- Certainly not!

- How 'bout if we bust a window?

- Oh, of course not.

Dennis, I think you'd better run out and play.

- OK.

- Mr. Wilson, about those starlings.

There must be something we can do to get rid of them.

- Oh, I've done everything I know.

I've beaten Martha's dishpan to a pulp.

- How about calling in professional help?

- Well, I don't know what good that would do.

If I got rid of them in my yard, they'd just fly back in from

somebody else's. - That's right.

The whole neighborhood ought to be cleared.

- But who could afford to pay for that?

- Well, it wouldn't be so bad if we made a neighborhood project

out of it and asked everybody to chip in.

- Why, Alice, that's a wonderful idea!

- Yes, honey, that's a good idea!

- Well, by golly, let's do it.

I know just the man to get for the job.

Of course, he's a crusty old bachelor,

but he certainly knows his business

when it comes to getting rid of starlings.

- Well, we'll have to organize the neighborhood first.

Find someone who's well-known, reliable, and has

organization ability.

- In other words, a leader.

- Yeah!

- I'll get started right away.

- Papa didn't believe in women voting.

Neither do I. Mother always said,

a woman's place is in the home.

It's the man's place out in the world.

Voting or delivering mail, or whatever he does.

[doorbell rings]

- Now, who I you suppose that can be?

Oh, don't worry.

I'll get rid of them.

[doorbell rings]

- Hi, Miss Cathcart.

Oh, I'm quite busy now.

- I want to ask you something.

- Oh, well, very well.

What is it?

- Will you give me a piece of bread so I can--

- Hey!

What are you doing with that shoe?

- Never mind.

- That looks like a man's shoe.

- Well, never mind that.

- Are you shining somebody's shoes again?

- It doesn't concern you, Dennis.

- Hi, Mr. Dorfman!

- For pity's sake.

Dennis, you can go out to the kitchen

and get a piece of bread.

- And if I come back, will you shine my shoes?

- No, I won't because I'm entertaining Mr. Dorfman.

Now after you get the bread, you go out the back way.

- OK, Miss Cathcart.

That way, we won't be disturbed.

- Uh, Miss Cathcart, my, my foot is getting cold,

- Oh, well, it's those thin socks you wear.

Don't you worry.

I'm going to knit you some wool ones

- Well, it's not the socks, Miss Cathcart.

You have my shoe.

- Oh, I'm sorry.

I'll hurry.

There now.

Isn't that shiny?

- Yes, that's fine, Miss Cathcart.

Thank you.

Well, I better be--

- You know, mother couldn't stand dusty shoes,

and she always said a woman's place was to take of a man

and entertain him. - Well, I better be going.

- Well, I better be going. - I haven't entertained you yet.

Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me.

Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee.

[doorbell rings]

- Oh, for goodness sake.

Now who could that be?

Be back in a moment.

- Miss Cathcart.

I've got to talk.

- Well, not right now, Mr. Wilson, I'm entertaining.

- Who? - Mr. Dorfman.

Mr. Dorfman!

- Now, um, what I wanted to talk to you about--

- One minute, please, Mr. Wilson.

- Mr. Dorfman?

- Miss Cathcart, I have a number of other people to contact,

so I'll get right to the point.

The starlings in this area have become such a problem

that joint action must be taken.

- What starlings?

Why, they're swarming all over the neighborhood.

- We haven't had any around here.

Ah, he got away.

- They must be around here.

- Well, I haven't heard or seen one in my yard.

- If you don't have them now, you soon will have.

Now I'm asking everybody in the neighborhood

to contribute toward hiring a professional

to get rid of them.

- I don't see why I should contribute

when they haven't been bothering me.

- But, Miss Carthcart.

It's like the plague.

Why, no one's immune.

And once they get into your yard, like they are in mine,

you'll sign up quickly enough.

- Well, suppose I agree.

How do I know this professional could get rid of them?

- Oh, the man I have in mind has an excellent reputation.

Of course, you might not like him as a person.

He's a crusty old codger.

- I still don't see why I should contribute.

- But, uh, then I guess a person gets

crusty when he owns his own business

and is so successful and so alone.

He's a bachelor.

- I'll get my purse.

- Now, do you think you can do the job, Mr. Prince?

We want to clear the entire neighborhood.

- Of course he can do it.

- How would you know?

- Well,-- - Of course I can do it.

Results are guaranteed.

- Ah, fine.

Now, we don't want the birds hurt.

We just want them driven away.

- He wouldn't hurt them.

- This lady your wife?

- No, I'm a maiden lady.

I'm Miss Carthcart.

I'm not married.

- Figures.

Don't worry.

I won't hurt them.

- Ah.

Now, uh, what's your technique?

- Ah.

I have it right here in the safe.

Yes, just play it over the phonograph.

- Do you mean to tell me we're paying you

$150 just to play a phonograph recording?

- No, you're paying me $150 to get rid of the starlings.

And this record will do it.

- Hmm.

Well, how's it work?

- This is the cry of a wounded starling.

I spent two weeks in the woods before I could get this record.

Now when the other starlings hear it,

they fly away from what they think is a source of danger.

- Why, that's absolutely brilliant.

- Common sense.

I'll be at your house at 2:00 tomorrow afternoon, Mr. Wilson.

- Oh, I tell you, getting rid of those starlings

will make it the finest birthday I've ever had.

I want both of you to be there at 2:00 tomorrow

to see how it works.

We'll have a little party.

- Wonderful!

And I may as well tell you right now,

I baked you a birthday cake.

And I'll bring it along when I come.

- Oh, now, Alice.

You shouldn't have.

What flavor?

- Chocolate.

- Oh, Mitchell, you have a wonderful family.

Ooh, I want you to bring Dennis over, too.

He has a little surprise for me, you know.

- Well, I wouldn't expect too much, Mr. Wilson.

- Oh?

Well, uh, didn't you go shopping with him?

- Oh, no.

We, we don't even know what it is.

- It's apparently something's he's

gotten together by himself.

- Well, probably a collection of some kind.

I'll treasure it all the more.

- Hi, Mr. Wilson!

- Oh, hello, Dennis.

- Boy, Mom, now that we have company,

can I stay up for a while?

- Oh, I'm just going home.

- Say your good nights, and go to bed, dear.

- OK Goodnight, Mr. Wilson.

- Goodnight. Oh.

Uh, just a minute, Dennis.

I want you to come over to my house tomorrow at 2:00 o'clock

because, well, we're having a little party.

- Swell!

That's 'cause It's your birthday, huh, Mr. Wilson?

- Well, partly that.

But mostly because tomorrow I hope

to get rid of those starlings.

- Get rid of them?

- That's right.

Well, Mitchells, goodnight.

I'll be running along.

- Fine. Goodnight, Mr. Wilson.

- Goodnight.

- All right, young man.

Up to bed.

- Wait a minute, Mom.

Doesn't Mr. Wilson like starlings?

- He sure doesn't.

- They're ruining his garden.

- But I thought he loved birds.

- Well, he does. but--

- Mr. Wilson just refuses to admit

that a starting is a bird.

- Sure, they're birds.

They're swell birds.

They got feathers and everything.

- Well, don't you worry about it, son.

- Can you tell us what it is you giving

Mr. Wilson for his birthday?

I don't know now.

I kind of think what I was giving him isn't his favorite.

Maybe what I'll do is get rid of the starlings for him.

- You do that, son.

- Goodnight, dear. Goodnight, son.

- 'Night, Mom 'Night, Dad.

Hey, Mom?

- Hmm?

- I need some liver.

OK?

- Mmm.

It's in the refrigerator.

- Honey.

Honey, was Dennis just in here?

- Mmm?

- I just had the craziest dream.

I dreamt Dennis came in here and asked for some liver.

- Hmm.

That was a crazy dream, all right, honey.

Go back to sleep.

- Yeah?

- Hey, Tommy!

Mr. Wilson wants to get rid of starlings.

Not have 'em.

- Yeah?

And I gotta help him get rid of them

because today's his birthday.

- How you gonna do that?

- With this swell liver.

Come on.

You better get your clothes on.

You gotta help me.

- OK.

- Good morning!

- Dennis, where have you been?

Now sit down.

Your breakfast is ready.

- I've been with Tommy.

We're going to get rid of Mr. Wilson's starlings.

Thanks for the liver, Mom.

- Dennis, where on earth did you get liver?

- Don't you remember, Mom?

I came in your bedroom and asked for it this morning.

- I'll just put this over here.

- Thank you, Miss Cathcart.

- Are we going to

- I don't think it's that kind of a party, son.

- Didn't you bring his present?

- It's going to be a surprise, Mom.

- Oh, my.

Why, you handled that as though it weighed practically nothing.

- That's just about what it does weigh.

- Oh.

Well, perhaps after you play your record here,

we could go over to my house and play.

It.

In a while.

- I thought the starlings weren't bothering you.

- Oh, well, they're not.

But--

[doorbell rings]

- Uh, excuse me.

I'll get it.

- Oh, Mitchell, Alice.

Well, we're about set.

- Happy birthday Mr. Wilson.

- Oh.

Thank you, Alice.

- Oh, hello, Dennis.

Did you want something?

- Did you forget, Mr. Wilson?

You invited me to your party.

- Yes, I guess I did.

Mr. Prince and Miss Cathcart are already here.

We're about set to go.

Come on in.

- Thank you.

- Hi, everybody! - Hello, Miss Cathcart.

- Hi, Miss Cathcart.

- Hello.

- Oh, uh, Mr. Prince, I want you to meet Mr. And Mrs. Mitchell.

And Dennis.

- How do you do?

- Hi.

- We're anxious to see if this works.

- Oh, don't sorry.

It works, all right.

- Well, sit down, everybody

- Look out!

- You were about to sit on my record.

- Boy, that was close.

Did you notice that, Mr. Wilson?

I didn't do it.

- All right, Dennis.

- Why, I'd rather lose my right arm than that record.

It'd take me weeks to have it duplicated.

- I'll plug the record player in for you.

- I'll do it!

- I'll do it.

That's all ready.

- You like him, don't you, Miss Cathcart?

- Well, yes.

- Do you like him as much as you like Mr. Dorfman?

- Yes.

- Are you going to shine his shoes?

- Dennis!

- TOMMY (OFFSCREEN0: Dennis.

Come on out and play baseball.

- Yes, dear, what a wonderful idea.

Why don't you go out and play baseball with Tommy?

- Yes, son. Run along outside and play.

- But what about the starlings?

- Oh, you can see what happens outside.

- But what about the cake?

- Oh, we'll call you in time for that.

- OK.

You know what I'm going to do 'cause

it's your birthday, Mr. Wilson?

I'm going to hit you a home run.

- Oh, well, fine.

You do that.

All right, now.

Run along.

- Well, if you're all ready, I'll go ahead.

- Oh, yes.

We're ready and waiting, Mr. Prince.

- Shall I unwrap the record for you?

- No!

Nobody touches this record but me.

It's far too valuable.

Ah, yes.

Two weeks in the woods to get this record.

The only other copy in existence is in Tennessee.

- Tennessee!

My!

There it is.

- Oh.

- All right, Tommy.

Right over the plate.

I'm going to hit a home run for good ole Mr. Wilson.

- All right.

Here it comes.

- Oh, blast!

- Oh, no!

Oh, great Scott! - Oh, no!

- I'll skin that boy alive!

- Mitchell, this is the last straw!

- Well, now, remember, Mr. Wilson, he

was hitting it for your birthday,

- Oh!

Dennis Mitchell!

- Happy birthday, Mr. Wilson!

Was it a good one?

I didn't see where it went.

- Do you realize what that boy is doing to me?

- Doing to you?

Look what he's done to me!

Two weeks in the woods in the cold and the wet,

hiking over mountains, surrounded by wild animals.

And now it's gone.

Oh, gosh!

- I'm so sorry, Mr. Prince.

- If there's anything I can do to make it up you, Mr. Prince,

you just let me know.

- You can spend two weeks in the woods for me.

- Now, there's no point in being gloomy.

After all, this is a party, and i

know just what I'm going to do to cheer you up.

- Now, Miss Cathcart.

I don't think--

- Hum.

Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me.

Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee.

- Is that what a wounded starling sounds like?

- Heck, no.

That's good ole Miss Cathcart.

Doesn't she sing swell?

[singing]

- Hey, look!

They're all flying out of Mr. Wilson's yard!

[singing] Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me.

- Hey!

Soon as you started to sing, all the starlings flew away.

- What's that?

- What?

Why, great Scott!

They are flying away!

- Honey, look at 'em go!

- Yes!

- Sing, Miss Cathcart, sing!

- Well, I really don't think that--

- Do it for me.

- Oh, well.

Hum, hum.

Just a song at twilight when the lights are low.

On the flickering shadows softly come--

- Louder, Cathcart, louder!

- Though the heart be weary-- [hits high note] are low.

Still to us at twilight, comes love's--

- Boy, are you gonna get it!

- Ha, ha, it was one of the finest birthdays I've ever had.

I got rid of all those starlings about two hours ago.

Uh-huh. Hmm?

My glasses?

Oh, I don't care.

i"m wearing my spares, anyway.

Oh, say, guess what, Martha?

I think Mr. Prince is going to have

a new partner in his business.

[cat meows] Who?

Why, Miss Cathcart, of course.

[cats meowing]

- Huh? Tonight?

Oh, I don't know.

I'll just watch television, go to bed early.

Get a good night's sleep.

Yeah.

Well, tomorrow morning will be the first time

in weeks I won't be awakened by those blasted starlings.

[cats meowing]

- Huh?

Do you hear it, too, Martha?

Well, I don't know what it is. [doorbell rings]

- Uh, oh, oh, just a minute, dear.

There's, there's someone at my front door.

Just a minute.

Hang on.

[cats meowing]

- Hi, Mr. Wilson.

- Oh, Dennis, I'm on the--

- Boy, if those starlings ever come back,

will they be surprised.

Now that I've put liver up there to get rid of the starlings,

your trees are full of cats!

[cats meowing]

- Happy birthday, Mr. Wilson!

- Uh, oh, Dennis!

[theme music]