Original subtitles

[music playing]

- Mom! Hey, Mom!

We're home!

- Well, you two, how was the golf?

- All right, I guess.

All right?

Jeepers, Mom.

It was swell.

I made a whole dollar just watching Dad play.

- My goodness!

Just how did you manage that? Caddying?

- Oh no.

- Dennis.

Dad gave it to me for forgetting some new words he accidentally

taught me.

[music playing]

[theme music]

- 'Night, Mom.

- Goodnight, dear.

- 'Night, Dad.

- 'Night, son.

- Did you put your clothes away?

- Yes.

- Did you wash your face?

- Yes.

- Brush your teeth?

- Yes.

All except this one here that's loose.

No use wasting time on that one when

it's going to come out in a couple of days.

Maybe even sooner if I eat peanut brittle.

- All right, dear.

Goodnight.

- Don't forget to say your prayers, son.

- Oh it's OK if I don't say my prayers tonight.

- How do you figure that?

- Well, Sunday night I said them seven times.

Enough for the whole week.

- Hear that, Alice?

Seven-- [chuckling] Oh no.

[music playing] - Oh here it is, Alice.

Under House for Rent.

"Desirable unfurnished house.

Three bedrooms, two baths.

Completely redecorated.

Reasonable."

- Well I hope that ad brings results.

It's been over eight months since you

and Mr. Wilson bought that old house and fixed it up.

- I'm too hopeful, Alice.

Even Mr. Cummings, the real estate man has given up on it.

- What I can't understand is how Mr. Wilson talked his brother

into buying half his interest in the house

before he left on his trip east.

- I don't know, honey.

I guess John Wilson just figured it was a good investment.

Rumors of haunted house notwithstanding.

- Jeepers, I'd think anybody would

love to live in a haunted house and get

goose bumps every night.

- Well they don't.

And stop calling it a haunted house, Dennis.

The only ghost we ever found there was an old tramp.

- Maybe we didn't look good enough.

- Dennis, eat your-- Dennis, what are you

doing in those old clothes?

You know perfectly well I'd never

let you go to school dressed like that.

- Well I'm wearing these because there's

liably to be something special at school today.

I may be in a fight.

- Well I don't care if-- A fight?

- Well you see there's this big bully Gifford who

picks on all the kids at school.

And now he's starting to pick on me.

- You don't say.

- Has this boy ever struck you, dear?

- No.

But when he does I'm going to clobber him.

- Well if he's a bully, son, that's

the only reasonable thing to do.

- Henry Mitchell!

The idea!

Encouraging your son to fight.

Dennis, have you ever tried making friends

with this little boy?

- Heck no.

He hasn't got any friends.

- Well that's probably the whole trouble.

He feels rejected by the children.

Dear, I want you to promise me you'll

try to make friends with this child.

- OK.

But if that doesn't work, then I'm

going to try my very best to clobber him.

- You are not!

- I'm not saying a word.

[music playing]

- Afternoon, John.

- Well, Henry.

What are you doing home in the middle of the afternoon?

- [laughs] Tell me, John.

Have you had any responses to our ad in the newspaper yet?

- No not a one, Henry.

- Well I have.

- You have?

- Got a call at the office this morning

and I just got through showing the house to a Mrs.

Kelly who seems extremely interested.

- Really?

Say that's great!

Great.

Oh I certainly hope we can make a deal while I'm still visiting

here.

Oh.

Martha!

Alice!

Come in here!

- I had that recipe when I was a bride.

- It's marvelous.

What is it, John?

Hello, Henry.

- Well, dear, what are doing home from the office so early?

- Oh it's about the house, Alice.

I--

- He's as good as rented it.

How is that news?

- Oh that's wonderful.

When? - Hold it.

Hold it. I haven't rented it yet.

I still have to show it to the woman's husband tomorrow

morning.

- Oh.

Now, Alice, you know perfectly well

that once a wife has made up her mind,

her husband doesn't stand a chance.

- John's right, Alice.

Why do you think so many men get caught in the first place?

- Ah ha.

[chuckles]

[music playing]

- Mom!

I'm home!

Mom!

Anybody here?

- The best part of it is that those rumors

about the house being haunted are-- well,

they don't bother her a bit.

- Martha, I knew that if we kept at it-- Haunted?

George didn't tell me anything about the house being haunted

when he, when he talked me to investing in it.

- Oh dear.

He didn't?

- Why that slippery-tongued brother of mine.

- John, It isn't really haunted.

Those are just silly rumors.

- Mrs. Wilson!

Hey, Mrs. Wilson have you seen-- Oh hi, Dad.

Hi, Mom.

- Dennis!

What happened to your eye?

- That's quite a shiner you've got there, son.

- My goodness.

It certainly is, isn't it?

- Dennis, you promised me you wouldn't

fight with that other boy.

- I didn't fight.

And that's why I got this black eye.

And I'm the ninth kid he's lit into.

- Well I don't understand.

You mean you, you just stood there

and let this other child hit you?

- Mom made me promise to try to make friends

with that big bully.

- Oh I, uh, I see.

- I'm sorry, dear.

- I bet your not as sorry as my eye is.

- I tried to tell you this morning, Alice.

There are some problems children just

have to work out themselves.

- It was certainly that way when I went to school, Alice.

- You mean I can hit him next time?

- In your own self-defense, son, if that big bully

picks on you again you clobber him.

- And, Dennis, while you're at it give him one for me too.

Oh boy I'll sure try, Mr. Wilson.

- Better get back to the office or I'll be fired.

Bye, sweetie.

- Goodbye, dear.

- Well don't you worry about a thing, Henry.

We'll take care of matters here. - Thanks.

Bye. - Bye.

- I still don't like the idea his fighting.

Now, Alice, you and Martha run along

and finish whatever you were doing.

We men will take care of matters here.

[ahem] Well, Dennis.

It seems to me that I should give you

a few pointers in the art of fisticuffs.

- Gosh, Mr. Wilson.

Did you used to be a good fighter?

- Am I a good fighter?

Dennis, my boy, in my boxing days in college

I was widely known and feared as, uh, Killer Wilson.

Oh yeah.

Yes I wouldn't enter the ring with anyone

unless they had a written release from a doctor.

[chuckles]

- Gee.

- Oh-- Uh, feel that. - Yep.

There's something there all right.

[music playing]

- There you are, Mr. Wilson.

- Thank you, Tommy.

- Dennis' are all right.

- All right, Dennis.

Ready?

- Why don't you pick on somebody your own size?

- Mr. Wilson's not picking on me, Seymour.

He's going to teach me all about boxing.

- Sure got bad eyes.

He's missing you by a mile.

- Seymour, what Mr. Wilson's doing is called shadow boxing.

- Oh.

- Boy, Mr. Wilson.

You sure are light on your feet.

- Why, my boy, in my younger days in the ring

I was sheer poetry in motion.

Yep. Whelp.

I think it's time for a little professional advice.

Now then.

You jab with the left and guard with the right.

See?

- Uh, jab with the left and guard with the right.

Like this?

- Yeah, yeah exactly.

That's-- Uh, uh keep the right up a little higher, see?

Like this.

- Boy that looks silly.

- Oh it does, does it?

Oh all right.

Well you try and get through my defenses.

Go ahead.

You just try.

- OK. - Uh-hanh.

See?

[grunts] Uh-hanh, uh-hanh.

- Jeepers.

I didn't meant to hit you, Mr. Wilson.

- Huh? - Are you all right?

- Yeah.

Of course I'm all right, Dennis.

- Boy, Mr. Wilson.

You're going to have a shiner just like mine.

Oh Great Caesar's ghost!

- John Wilson!

What's going on out here?

- Dennis clobbered him.

- Well you better come in and let me put something on that eye.

- I, I'm all right, Martha.

Now, Dennis, you just remember what I showed you

and you'll be all prepared to meet that bully in school

tomorrow.

- OK, Mr. Wilson.

But I'd sure feel better if that kid had a big head on him

like yours to aim at.

- Sure is a fat one.

[music playing]

- Hi, darling.

Hear anything yet?

- No not a word.

I'm sorry home from the office, dear, but I'm worried.

School's been out for over an hour.

- Oh now, Alice.

He probably just stayed around the school grounds to play.

You know how kids are.

- Henry, I just know he got into a fight with that other boy.

And I-- [doorbell rings]

- Well I'll get it, honey.

- Oh hi, John.

How's the eye?

- Please.

I saw you drive up.

Any news on the house?

- Well the woman saw it yesterday.

And her husband saw it this morning.

But he can't make up his mind.

So now she's undecided even though they both like it.

- Oh for heaven's sake.

Well what do you think our chances are?

- Oh about 50-50.

They're supposed to let us know tonight.

- Mm.

Well I certainly hope they do.

- Hi, Mom.

Hi, Dad.

Hi, Mr. Wilson. - Dennis.

Oh, darling, let me look at you.

Are you all right?

- Jeepers, Mom, I'm swell.

But boy you should see that other kid, Dad.

When he d to pick on me after school,

I gave him a right cross like Mr. Wilson said.

And he ran home crying.

- Well coaching will tell.

- You know maybe that bully's learned his lesson now.

- But, dear, where have you been all this time?

- Well we didn't want to fight around school.

So we went way over to the old junkyard.

Oh.

Well why don't you run on upstairs and get cleaned up.

- Uh, put a little iodine on that scratch, son.

- OK.

How's your shiner, Mr. Wilson?

- Oh just lovely, Dennis.

Turned from black to a delightful shade of purple

with delicate fuchsia overtones.

- Well if you have to have one I'm

glad you're at least beginning to like it.

- Oh dear.

I hope that other boy wasn't hurt too badly.

- Oh I imagine most of the hurt was

to his ego and only temporary.

- Besides he was a bully, Alice.

He deserved everything he got.

- Hey, Mom.

Have you seen the iodine bottle with that scary label on it?

- Oh I must have left it in the basement last time

I sawed my finger.

I'll go get it.

- Your father's getting it, dear.

- Well, Alice, I think I'll be running along.

[phone rings]

- Excuse me. - Yeah.

[doorbell rings] - Oh dear.

- I'll, I'll get the door, Alice.

- John Wilson.

You promised to go to the store for me.

- Oh Mrs. Wilson.

Come in and sit down.

- Right.

- Hello?

- This is Mr. Kelly.

The father of the little boy your son beat up.

I'd like to talk to your husband.

- Just a minute please.

It's that little boy's father and he sounds terribly angry.

- Oh he does, does he?

Let me talk to him.

- But he said he wanted to speak to--

- Alice, please.

I've had a lifetime of experience handling

bullies of all sizes.

- Oh you have, have you?

Then you'd better do something about that big boy of yours

that attacked and beat up my son this afternoon.

- Now listen here whoever you are.

- John, I really don't think-- - (WHISPERING) Martha, Martha.

Please.

It's your son who's the bully and he

got exactly what's coming to him.

- Oh dear.

- Is that so?

- Yes that's so. And furthermore--

- Alice, I found this down--

- It's the kid's father, Henry.

- Oh. Who?

- Your junior-sized monster better keep out of Dennis' way

unless of course you want to have his other eye blacked out.

That's telling him hey, Henry?

- Listen, Mister.

This sounds like something that you and I better

settle in person.

I'll be right over.

- Fine.

Dandy.

Come here If you've got the nerve.

- Come ahead where?

- What did he say, John.

- Well the loudmouth says that's the on his way over here

to settle this in person with Henry.

- Oh my goodness.

- John, how could you?

- You mean that kid's father thinks that you're me

and he's on his way over here?

- Oh boy.

You'll show him won't you, Dad?

- Oh relax, Henry.

These bullies are all the same.

- Hey, I got to go load my flash camera

so I can take pictures of the fight.

- Dennis.

There is not going to be a fight.

- Of course there isn't.

- There isn't?

But, Dad, when that kid picked on me, you said to--

- Well, that is there isn't going to be

any fight unless the other fellow starts it of course.

- Well that's different.

Gifford's dad'll start one all right.

The kids say he's a big tough looking guy

who drives one of those great big diesel trucks.

- Oh no.

There you are, son.

Don't, don't use up all the iodine.

- OK.

But if Mr. Kelly comes don't let him

start anything until I get back.

- Kelly?

Did he say Kelly?

- Well that's the name the man gave on the phone, dear.

Why?

- And, and he drives a diesel truck

and he has a kid about Dennis' age?

Oh no.

- Well, Henry, what is it?

- Just because he's a tough looking fellow and drives

a diesel truck there's no reason--

- John, you don't understand.

This is the same Kelly who's interested in renting

our house.

- [gasp]

- Oh no.

Are you sure, Henry?

- Well the name, the description they all fit.

- Oh.

Now they'll never take our house.

- I'll, I'll bet he doesn't know that I'm

the Mitchell he's coming to see.

- But, Henry, he must.

- Not necessarily, honey.

I, I got the call at the office.

There must be a dozen Mitchells in the book.

I'm sure he doesn't know my first name or where we live.

- Oh well a fat lot of good that does us.

He'll recognize you the moment he comes through that door.

- You're right.

There must be something we can do.

- Well why couldn't Alice simply tell him you're not home?

- And Dennis knowing that?

No thanks, Mrs. Wilson.

That would make me a complete coward in his eyes.

- Oh if only Mr. Wilson--

- Well that's it.

Mr. Wilson could pretend to be Henry.

- Alice, I wouldn't consider such a thing.

- Well of course.

There's no reason in the world why-- Pretend I'm Henry?

- John, I think it's a wonderful idea.

- Martha, that man's on his way over here to--

- John, don't tell me you're afraid of that bully.

- Afraid?

Me?

Of course not.

It's just that-- Uh, well I'm not as young as I used to be.

- Oh, Mr. Wilson.

Surely Mr. Kelly wouldn't hit a man your age.

- Of course he wouldn't.

- Look, Martha, it's unfair to draft

a man of my advanced years for front line duty.

- John's right, dear.

It's my responsibility.

And Dennis is my son.

If we continue to lose $150 a month rent because of this,

well, it's nothing to do about it.

Even if we never rent that old house.

- Exactly.

Even if we never rent that-- Never rent that house?

Oh let's not be hasty about this, Henry.

- But, John, you just said--

- Let's put it this way.

We cannot lose that rental.

I wonder if he'd hit a man wearing glasses.

[music playing]

- Hello?

Tommy?

This is me.

Alvin's coming over.

And Seymour's coming over.

So if you want to see my dad knock Gifford's old man's

block off, come on over right away.

And I'll try to save you a standing

room outside our patio door.

- Here are my glasses, John.

- Thank you, Martha.

- Alice, I like this idea less and less.

- Well I assure you, Henry, I like it even less than you do.

But there doesn't seem to be any other way.

Now if I only had a cane to lean on.

- Well I'm all set.

- For what, dear?

- To hide behind the sofa and take pictures.

- Dennis, you go right outside and play

until I call you in for dinner.

- Do you mean I can't stay and watch

my own dad stick up for me?

- Dennis, you heard your mother.

Now go on outside.

- OK.

Don't you worry, Dad.

You can knock anybody's block off.

Alice, I simply can't do this.

After all I am Dennis' father.

[doorbell rings] - Good heavens.

He's here. You're right.

You are his father.

- No you don't, John.

You go to the door.

- Come along, Henry.

- (WHISPERING) But Alice, I don't think--

- (WHISPERING) Mrs. Wilson, I think we'd better wait upstairs

out of sight.

[doorbell rings]

- John Wilson.

- I, uh, thought I'd talk to him from an upstairs window

until he calms down.

- Really, John?

- Just a thought.

[knocking]

- Well, well come in Mr. Kelly.

And you must be his little boy.

- Take your clammy paw off me.

- Mind your manners, son.

All right now, Mitchell.

As you were saying on the phone.

- [stutters] On, on the phone.

- Yes. - Oh, oh on the phone.

- Yes.

- Uh. [stutters] Let's go inside and get comfortable shall we?

- All right.

Come on, son.

- Here they come.

- Hey that's not your dad, Dennis.

That's Mr. Wilson's brother.

- Don't you worry, Tommy.

My dad'll be coming all right.

- Oh a cigarette?

- No.

- Uh, candy?

- Tranquilizer?

- No.

- Uh, well now about this silly little misunderstanding--

- Little misunderstanding?

Your boy picked on Gifford here without any reason, Mitchell.

- Look at his eye, Pop.

He even hits old man.

- He does not.

[stutters] Uh, well it was just kind of an accident.

I forgot to duck.

- Mm-hm.

- Why is Mr. Wilson's brother doing all the talking?

- Hey, Dennis?

Why isn't your dad in there fighting for himself?

- You said he was going to clobber him.

Let's open the door a little so we can hear them.

- Well Dennis did that? - Yeah.

Take a good look at my boy.

Look at that eye.

- Uh, well he does look a little the worse for wear, doesn't he?

- Yeah.

- Where is your dad?

- I don't know, Tommy.

But I bet you he's got a darn good reason

for not being there.

- Sure he has, Dennis.

He's scared.

- My dad is not scared.

- He is too.

- He is not!

And you take that back!

Not!

- OK.

OK not scared.

- May be he's just careful.

- My dad isn't scared of anything in the whole world.

He even laughs at horror movies.

- And then he tripped the poor kid

and hit him when he was down.

- My little Dennis did that?

- Alice, I can't stand much more of this.

- What I can't understand is how a father

like you let's an overgrown bully of a son

go around picking on other children.

- That's not so!

That's not so!

- Dennis, please.

- He's not my dad.

And I don't go around picking on other kids.

- You do too. - I do not, Gifford.

But you do though. - Het, hey, hey.

Please, Dennis. Please.

- Just hold it, boys. Hold it.

- You'll have to excuse him.

He's a little upset. - It's all right, Mr. Wilson.

- Oh hello, Mitchell.

- Mr. Mitchell?

What are you doing here?

- I have a confession to make, Mr. Kelly.

I'm Dennis' father.

- You're his father?

Well, then who's he?

- Uh, just a nervous bystander.

When, when we found out which Mr. Kelly you are,

we were afraid you'd get sore at Mitchell

here and not take our house.

- You see Mr. Wilson and his brother, John here,

and myself own it together.

- While I was on my way over you thought you would pretend to be

him hoping that--

- That you wouldn't hit a pudgy man wearing glasses.

- [laughs] Well now I've heard everything.

- Jeepers, Dad.

I just knew it.

- Knew what?

- That you must have had a darn good reason not

to come in and clobber Mr. Kelly.

- Well now to the business at hand, Mr. Kelly.

- Yeah Oh say before I forget, here's

a check for the first and last months rent.

- Henry, they're taking our house.

- You'd better hang on to that until you

hear what I have to say.

- Henry.

Henry.

- I'm sorry about your boy, Mr. Kelly.

But he did start the fight.

Not Dennis.

- I did not.

I did not!

- You did too, Gifford.

- I did not, you little stool pigeon.

- Boys.

Boys.

- Gifford?

What do you mean stool pigeon?

Did you or did you not start that fight?

And is this the boy that's supposed

to be a foot taller than you are?

- Sure he is.

Look at the way his hair sticks out in back.

- I want you two boys to shake hands.

Go on, Gifford!

- I'll do it.

But I won't like it.

- Now that's better.

There you are, Mr. Mitchell.

- Oh thank you.

- As for you, young man, you start

anymore fights and your last one will be with me.

Now come on.

Let's get going.

- It's been very nice meeting you, Mr. Kelly.

- Oh nice to meet you too.

- And, uh, the next time you better

make sure you know something about the art of fisticuffs.

- Oh for crying out loud.

- Oh! I'm bleeding!

I'm bleeding!

That little monster hit me.

[groans]

- John, what happened?

- That little monster hit me, Martha.

Right on the nose.

- Oh for heaven's sake.

Well it didn't draw blood, John.

- Well maybe not, Henry.

But that little boy hit me.

Don't feel bad, Mr. Wilson.

In a fair fight you could lick that kid any old day.

- Oh Great Caesar's ghost.

- [laughs]

[theme music]

This has been a Screen Gem film production from the Hollywood

studios of Columbia Pictures.