All language subtitles for The Luck of the Irish (1948) 1080p WEB-DL x264.en

This can't be right.
Let me see that map.

- The road isn't even marked.
- That's the Irish of it.

As long as we stick to the seacoast,
we can't miss Shannon.

Well, it's your hurry, not mine.
Now look, Fitz. Take it easy.

You won't be much use to
Augur if you break your neck.

- Well, it's my neck.
- Hey. I'm fond of mine too.

This'll hold us all right.

Well, you stay here with the car
in case someone comes along.

I'll scout up the road a bit.
Must lead somewhere.

Don't be too sure. Irish paths
are whimsical, like the Irish character.

Hey.

Good afternoon.

My friend and I, we're lost.
Can you direct me to the nearest town?

Oh. Oh, then you didn't
come here looking for me.

For you?
Of course not.

I'm looking for a town
where I can hire a car.

Indeed.

What might your name be?

- Eh?
- Your name.

- Fitzgerald.
- Fitzgerald!

Maybe if I knew why
you were needing a car.

Look. If you don't mind,
I'm in a terrible hurry.

- Hurry.
- Mm-hmm.

It's a strange word, "hurry."
Why would you be in a hurry?

There's a very important man
waiting for me in New York...

and he's not the kind
that you keep waiting.

"Important."
There's another one of your words.

It's plain to see that you're impatient
with me, Fitzgerald.

I've enjoyed our conversation.
I'll not detain you any longer.

Thank you very much.

Then you'll not be wanting
thy direction.

Oh, yes. That's right.

The water from the mountains
comes into my pool with a roar...

goes out with a whisper.

Down the hill it goes
till it quietly reaches the sea.

And there a little village
called Ballynabun.

You, sir, may do the same.

I'll go get my friend.
Thank you very much.

You're entirely welcome.
Good day to you, sir.

Oh. Good day.

Oh, is there a–

- This'll be yours, sir.
- Thanks.

And this over here, sir,
this'll be–

That's-That's all right, sir.
I can take it.

Perhaps the landlady
will know some way out of here.

I'm beginning to think
the whole thing's a conspiracy.

I never should have listened
to that old lunatic up by the waterfall.

- What waterfall is that, sir?
- The one up the stream a mile or so.

The Gentle Burn it's called.
There's no waterfall on it.

I suppose we wet our feet
in a mirage, huh?

Begging your pardon, sir,
but I've tramped the length of that burn...

many and many's the time and I a young lad,
and there's no waterfall on it.

I guess that old fella must be
a friend of yours.

What old fella?

The old shoemaker with the green coat
and the brass buttons.

Shoemaker with a green coat
and brass buttons.

It's him.

Is everybody balmy in this country?

- You saw that waterfall, didn't you?
- No. You told me it was up there.

Oh, yes. That's right.
We hit the stream below it.

Wonder what's wrong with our friend.

Oh, he probably thinks you saw a pixie.
They're quite common in Ireland.

Yeah, well, I'll be glad
to get back to New York,

where things make sense.

Because people like your new boss have taken
all the agreeable nonsense out of life.

I'm beginning to think
you don't like Mr. Augur.

I don't. Don't like his type.
I don't like him personally.

And above all,

I don't like what he does to good
newspapermen who go to work for him.

- Ah, I'm gonna take a bath.
- Sure. In a fine tub.

But for they forgot to
put in the water pipes...

and there's not a plumber
this side of Limerick town.

- Don't take it so hard. I like the Irish.
- Yes, well, you can have 'em.

All of them, including myself.

I wish I could still
have you, Fitz...

but I just haven't got the price
to compete with Augur.

Come in.

I brought you some towels.

Thank you. Just put 'em
right here on the bed.

- All right.
- What time is dinner?

In an hour or so– if me stove doesn't
take it into its head to start an argument.

It will if it's like
everything else here.

You mustn't be too hard on us.

We're not used to having
such grand guests all the way from America.

Oh, uh, would you tell the old lady
I'd like to see her, please?

There's only one old lady here.

You're seeing her now.

I beg your pardon.
Are– Are you the–

Oh, Mrs., uh–

Is there a chance of transportation
out of here?

- If you can wait.
- Well, I can't.

Well, you see,
the trouble is we're sea-locked.

There must be boats.

Pookawns and such. But they're not
much good in any kind of a sea or...

if the wind's wrong.

But Sean O'Fearna will be glad to take you
in his boat when he comes in.

Mm-hmm. And when is that
likely to be?

- Oh, he'll be back any day now.
- Any day.

Tomorrow perhaps.

By the end of the week surely.

I hope you'll be comfortable, sir.

Ah, that was a good stew, Fitz.

- It was all right, if you like lamb stew.
- I do.

Well, why don't you pour
one for yourself?

Huh?

Oh, no. Herself wouldn't like it.
She says a long glass means a short life.

Oh, that's a lot of bunk, isn't it?

Why, when I was a cub reporter
back in Tennessee...

I once interviewed a man
on his 110th birthday.

He swore it was the result of drinking
a pint of corn liquor every morning–

before breakfast.

- Do you tell me that now?
- That's the truth.

You know, you'd do me a great favor
if you'd mention that to herself sometime.

- I'd be delighted. Anytime.
- 110 years.

110.

I'll take a glass of whiskey
with you, as you insist...

and as you're guests of the house.

Well, sit down.

We want to, uh, ask you something.

It's about this waterfall and the old man
Mr. Fitzgerald had words with.

There's no waterfall
on the Gentle Burn...

and it was no mortal man
himself had words with.

Mm-hmm.
Who was it then?

- Oh, I mind well who it was.
- Oh, well, who?

Don't keep it to yourself, man.

It was him.

The leprechaun of the Gentle Burn.
None other.

Oh, come now.

You don't believe
in those old superstitions.

I believe what me father knew
and his father before him.

It was a great
opportunity you had...

and the saints forgive you
for not taking advantage of it.

110 years of age you say.

What should I have done?

Seized him and made him
give you the pot of gold. What else?

Tsk, tsk, tsk.
I wish I had thought of that.

Has anyone else ever
done that around here?

Mrs. Daly's own father, Mr. William,
and lived to curse the day.

- Why should he curse the day?
- He forgot to spit on the gold.

A handful of pebbles was
all he had for his trouble...

and bad luck
for the rest of his life.

That's the rule, is it?
You have to spit on the gold?

Any little babby could tell you that.

You'd better be careful
who you talk to, Fitz.

Oh, he'd best at that,
when you hear the end of it.

I was here one night.
Miss Norah was away at school.

I was alone with Mr. William,
and he here with the drink raging in him.

Well, he started to curse every leprechaun
that ever cobbled a shoe...

and he took the bottle,
and he threw it into the fireplace.

And he stood up,
swaying on his two feet.

"Taedy," he says...

"I'll have it out with them devils
if it's the last thing I do."

And with that,
out through the door...

before I could
raise a hand to stop him.

By your leave, gentlemen.

Well, come on. Come on, man.
What's the rest of it?

Well, uh– Well, I stood
at the door, calling.

And then– then...

I heard the banshee.

It was the first time
I heard it, but...

I knew it was all over,
and so it was.

The next morning,
they found him by the Gentle Burn...

and he struck dead altogether,
the way that he ne–

The way that he never moved again.

Well, gentlemen, as I was saying...

drink is the curse
of the human race.

How are you, Norah?

Well, I think it's past me bedtime,
gentlemen, so I'll say good night, kids.

One and all.

Taedy.

I'm ready for you, whoever you are!
Come on out!

- Mr. Fitzgerald.
- Oh, Mr. Fitz.

You gave me a start, sir.

What are you doing
with that bottle of whiskey?

Shh!

Themselves have sharp ears...

and they might have heard us
taking their names.

You know, it's a good thing to leave
a little something on the doorstep.

Oh.

But I always thought
the traditional thing for leprechauns...

- was a glass of milk.
- Milk?

Good night, Mr. Fitzgerald.

Good night, Taedy.

Let me go, you bosthoon,
or I'll parch your bones with fever.

- No, you don't. I've got you.
- Take your hands off me!

Not until you've showed me
your pot of gold.

What would a poor, simple old man like me
be doing with a pot of gold?

None of that. I'm ready for your lies.
Of course you've got a pot of gold.

No right-minded leprechaun
would be caught without one.

Oh, who's been telling you
such stories?

- Ah, your friend Taedy.
- Taedy?

- He put you up to this trick, eh?
- Ah, the biggest liar in all County Clare.

That may be true, but we're gonna
play this game according to the rules.

Come on now.
Where's the gold? The gold.

Oh. Not so fast, my friend.

- Let me go, you omadhaun.
- Come on. The gold. Where is it?

- I'm telling you, I have no gold!
- Where is it?

- I mean business.
- Where is it, you say?

Yes, where is it?

Why don't you take a little look
under the waterfall yonder?

Oh, no, you don't.
Oh, no, you don't.

Ah. I've been warned to your tricks.
Where is it?

I don't– I don't know.

- Where is it?
- I don't know.

Oh, isn't that the thornbush?

Right under your very nose.

That's right. It's always buried, isn't it?
Uh-huh. Huh? Dig.

- Eh?
- Come on. Come on. Dig.

Oh.

Come on. Hurry up, man.

'Tis a cruel, wicked thing
you're making me do.

Well, you certainly do it up brown.

Props and everything.

Well, I'll be.
They're real.

Real indeed.
They're a lifetime savings.

Several lifetimes,
as you reckon things.

They are real.

I don't know who you are or what sort
of a game you're trying to play.

- Did you steal these?
- I never stole anything in me life...

except what was rightly mine.

That's one thing we have in common.

Here. Take this back.

But I don't understand you, sir.

You didn't really think I'd steal
your savings, or whatever they are.

Here.

You wouldn't be playing tricks
on a poor old man, would you?

No. I'll leave
the tricks to you. Here.

Take it back.
Bury it again.

Go on. Bury it now.

You give it back to me?

You give it back?

Fitzgerald, I'll never
forget you for this.

You've earned my undying–
my undying gratitude.

Here. Take–

Take this little bit of a keepsake
to remind you of our meeting.

- No, no. I–
- Yes, yes, yes. Take it. Take it.

Thank you.

No thanks are necessary. It is I that am
thanking you from the bottom of my heart.

All the luck in the world to you.

Mr. Stephen Fitzgerald...

you have a way of twisting things
in the most perplexing manner.

It is I that am saying
"all the luck in the world" to you.

So, sir, good-bye...

and good luck to you.

Oh.

You're up early, Mr. Fitzgerald.

Oh, good morning.
I couldn't sleep very well.

Oh, I hope it wasn't the bed.

No, no. I think I just
had one drink too many last night.

- Kept having dreams.
- Good ones, I hope.

Strange ones anyway.

Perhaps it was Taedy's wild stories.

Or it might have been the old man
who gave me the advice up by the waterfall.

What waterfall was that?

The one up the brook there.
The Gentle Burn it's called, isn't it?

But there's no waterfall
on the Gentle Burn.

Come on.

- What for, Mr. Fitzgerald?
- We're gonna find out once and for all...

if there's a waterfall up there.

Now listen.

I'm sure it was here.

Hey!

Who are you calling?

Well, he's a– a rather peculiar
friend of mine. He–

But you must know him.
He's about the, uh–

Uh–

Well, it's– it's easy
to imagine things here in the woods.

But I couldn't have imagined
that waterfall.

I saw it, and I heard it.

But maybe it– maybe it is
further upstream.

Yes, that– that– that must be it.

I suppose I could have
forgotten about it.

Yes.

I used to come bird's-nesting
here when I was a little girl.

There's a grand view of the sea.

I wish that boat would come.

Is it so very important to you?

Oh, it's the chance
I've been waiting for.

Ever since the war, I've been kicking
around Europe writing freelance stuff...

mostly for Bill Clark.

Now I'm ready to settle down
to a real job.

Oh, but you shouldn't
give up your writing now.

Oh, I don't intend to.

The only difference is that from now on
I'm going to be paid for it.

I'm sick and tired of beating my brains out
for nickels and dimes.

It'll come.
You mustn't fret, Mr. Fitzgerald.

My friends call me Fitz.

- Fitz?
- Mmm.

I'd never call you that.

It– It sounds like
a bottle of soda water.

Well, a few–
My mother called me Stephen.

Stephen.

Oh, I like that better.

Everyone calls me Norah.

Norah.
Oh, that's very nice.

That's always been a favorite of mine.
Norah.

If I ever had a daughter,
that's what I'd call her. Norah Fitzgerald.

Norah Fitzgerald.

You're not married, Stephen?

No, I'm too fond of
my freedom for that.

Oh, don't say that.
A man should marry.

It's the natural rule
and a good thing altogether.

What about you?
Doesn't that same rule apply to you?

And who would I be
marrying here in Ballynabun?

Michael the fishmonger?

Or Taedy perhaps?

Oh, look. It's a boat.

It's the Aranar, Sean's trawler.

Your wish has come true, Stephen.

If you start at once, he can have you
in Shannon in the morning.

What's wrong?

You ever seen anything like this?

Oh, sure.
It's a doubloon.

16th century Spanish, I think.

- How could I have gotten it?
- Very easily.

There have been many of them in Ireland
since the armada was wrecked here.

The farmers bring them in
from time to time.

That's a nice one.

We better be on our way.

Keep in touch with me, fella.
I'll let you know if I can salvage the car.

Fine. Look me up if you ever
get to New York.

Oh, not me. I'm the poor but honest type.
Well, good luck, Fitz.

Bye.

Good-bye, Norah.

Now that I'm going,
I half want to stay.

You mustn't be looking
backward, Stephen...

but forward to what
you want from life.

Sorry he's gone?

He's a wonderful man, Mr. Clark.

It all depends on what
you call wonderful.

He's a nice fellow, he has brains,
he's a first-class writer, but–

but he's willing to throw it
all away for money–

to subordinate himself
to an egomaniac...

to become just another bright, young man
who's made good–

And you call yourself his friend...

saying things like that about him
the minute his back is turned.

Said the same things to his face.

He knows what's best for himself.

Don't waste your fine Irish temper,
my dear. It isn't worth it.

- How do you do, Mr. Fitzgerald?
- Hello, Doc.

- Ruth.
- Oh, Mr. Fitzgerald!

- Is Mr. Augur in?
- Haven't seen you in a long time.

- Is he in?
- Yes. Mr. Fitzgerald to see Mr. Augur.

Go right in.

- Mr. Fitzgerald?
- Yes.

Please sit down. Mr. Augur said
he will see you in a few minutes.

You mean he said,

"Keep the so-and-so waiting
10 minutes and then show him in."

Yes. No.

Tell him I'll be back
in a couple of years.

Mr. Fitzgerald, please!

Please, Mr. Fitzgerald.
I'll tell him. I'll tell him.

Mr. Augur, Mr. Fitzgerald won't wait.

- He's on his way out–
- Oh, let him come in.

Please come in, Mr. Fitzgerald.

Hey, D.C.

You– You kept me
waiting for 48 hours.

- Gosh, it's good to see you.
- Good to see you.

Come in. Make yourself at home.
You know each other?

Yeah. Hello, Higgenbottom.

Higgenbotham.

Say, you've had the place
done over, haven't you?

Yeah, it was my daughter's
idea. Cost a fortune.

Sit down. I want to talk to you.

I haven't seen you in years.

You know...

I, uh–

Didn't you have something
to do this afternoon?

- Oh, uh, yes.
- Yeah, well, do it.

He's invaluable. Absolutely invaluable.
And he drives me nuts.

Don't disturb us.

Now, why do you think
I sent for you?

I'm not very good at guessing games.

Hold on to your chair.
Fitz...

I'm gonna run for the Senate.

What for? I thought Senator Ransome
owed his election to you.

Oh, Ransome's all right, but it's not
the same as holding the reins yourself.

Fitz, there comes a time when a man reaches
the top of the ladder in his chosen field.

There's nowhere else to go.
I've reached that point.

Other men go in for
breeding thoroughbreds and...

collecting paintings.

They're just toys.

Say, you know the oldest
and the noblest occupation of them all?

- I think so.
- I mean politics.

Well, you'll admit there's certain points
of similarity.

Oh, don't be cynical.
Politics in a democracy.

Well...

where do I come in?

You're gonna put me in the Senate.

Oh, no.
I'm no politician.

Exactly.

Yeah, I read every one of your articles
in the American Spectator...

not that I agree
with your conclusions...

or the rabble-rousing
policy of the paper...

but one thing stands out.

You know people.
You understand the issues.

Take this piece you wrote
about my Paris speech.

- Called it boneheaded.
- Dunderheaded.

Dunderheaded. Yeah, well, what–
what difference does it make?

The point is you were right. You put your
finger on the weakness of my argument.

I could have put my foot in it.

Well, that's exactly
why I want you on my side.

Of course, I was 99% right.
Have some of this?

No, thanks.

Well, here's my proposition.

Come in with me.

Write my speeches,
be my right hand.

Be my brain, my conscience.

Frankly, I want the money...

but there's one thing
we ought to clear up first.

You may not like what I write.
We may disagree.

Well, of course we'll disagree.

I hate people who agree with me.

- Is it a deal?
- It's a sale.

Good.

We'll show them who's
a dunderhead, huh?

- That's what I'm afraid of.
- Oh, those school of journalism boys. Ah–

- Oh, how's Frances?
- Frances?

Frances.

Oh. She wants you to call her.
I'm glad you reminded me.

Probably should have done it soon–
You don't mind if I use one of these?

No, it's a private line.
That one over–

What's my home number?

- Rhinelander 4-5813.
- Rhinelander 4-5813.

Uh, never mind that.

Bring in Mr. Fitzgerald's keys
and his address.

- Yes, sir.
- Hello? Miss Augur, please.

Mr. Fitzgerald. I don't
have any address.

I got you an apartment.

You know how hard it is
to find a place, even for me?

Hello, Frances?
Fitz!

Yeah, about an hour ago.

I'm with him now.

No, the devil himself doesn't have
enough money to buy it.

What? Dinner tonight?
Fine. I'd love to, if–

if I don't have to work
too late at the office.

You don't start
till tomorrow morning.

All right. I'll tell him.

Fine. I'll pick you up–

Good. Okay. Bye-bye.

She says I can't work too late.

Ah. Takes after her mother.

Ah, here are your keys.

- Here's the address, Mr. Fitzgerald.
- Thank you.

And find out where Mrs. Augur
hires servants and get him one.

Yes, sir. It's the Acme Agency.

What do you do with a servant?
I never had a servant before in my life.

We can't have you bothered with trifles.
Gotta keep that brain of yours on ice.

We're gonna do big things
together, my boy.

Yes. Big things.

- Cream?
- Mm-hmm.

- What was her name?
- Whose name?

Your reason for being two days late.

Oh.
Norah.

- Pretty, I suppose.
- If you like the Irish.

I always have.

I'm glad you're back, Fitz.
And I'm glad you're going to be sensible.

- Sensible?
- Mm-hmm. You know what I mean.

It's a shame to waste your talent
on the kind of writing you've been doing.

Well, some people
didn't think it was entirely wasted.

Oh, but it was, as far as you yourself
were concerned.

Maybe you're right at that.
I only started being sensible today...

and already I have a big salary
and an apartment.

- See?
- Yeah, I see.

I've missed you, Fitz.

I've missed you too.

You're a liar. You never even gave me
a thought all the time you were away.

I'm surprised you even called me.

Well, I was only trying to be sensible.
After all, the boss's daughter.

Was that the only reason?

How can you be
after asking a question like that?

And yourself as pretty as a bay filly
in a field of clover.

Oh.

Fitz, after only five days in Ireland,
that's rank affectation.

Hello, Fitz.

Well, well, look who's here.
Mary's little lamb.

Hello, Charlie.

- How are you, Higgenbottom?
- Uh, Higgenbotham.

I just rode uptown with D.C.
He'd like to get your thinking...

on the Labor Management Act.

Now, my idea of– of the proper kind
of statement is this–

Oh, dear, dear, Fitz.
Look at the time.

We'll never make it.

We're half an hour late
for the curtain already.

- Hurry. Have you paid the check?
- No, I haven't.

Sign Father's name, Charlie.

Don't do that. Take it out of this,
will you, Higgenbottom?

- Higgenbotham.
- Hmm? Oh. Yes.

Wait.

- We were a little rude, weren't we?
- Yes, we were...

but I want Father and all his stooges
to understand...

that their jurisdiction does
not extend beyond office hours.

Here you are, sir.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Come on. You needn't smile
quite so cordially...

when you tip hatcheck girls.

- Gives them ideas.
- Well, she gave me a couple.

Oh!

Taxi, sir?

- Yes, please.
- Well, where are we going?

- Home.
- Oh, but it's so early.

Listen. I got no sleep
on that plane.

It's me for that modernistic little nightmare
that your father picked out for me.

- Just what do you mean, "nightmare"?
- Wait till you see it.

I'll tell you. There was a painting
over the fireplace.

You don't mean to tell me
that you had something–

Yes, darling, I do. But that's all right.
Don't apologize.

It's nothing to me that I slaved for three
whole days to make a nice place for you. I–

- What did you do with the painting?
- It's in the bathtub.

The bathtub. Hmm.
What else?

- Well, I– I just rearranged a few things.
- Oh, you did.

There was a table by the fire
that I moved around on the other side.

Then there was
a lady and gentleman–

Yes. We'll just go right up there
and re-rearrange them back again–

the table and chair–
16 Beekman Place, please.

I don't think you need to.

- I'm quite tired. I–
- Oh, yes, Fitz. We do. Really, we do.

- You heard her, brother.
- Yes, sir. I heard the lady.

Little more to the right.
That's right. Ah. There.

Whoop.

- There. That's fine.
- Huh.

Now, really, Fitz,
don't you like it?

Oh, it's absolutely breathtaking.

- What's it supposed to be?
- It's called Germinal, 1948.

- Hmm.
- It's the coal strike.

- Oh, really?
- Mm-hmm.

I thought it was Venus
rising from the waves.

Oh. Fitz, it's by a very
promising young artist.

I'm arranging a show for him.

- You're a busy little thing, aren't you?
- Just what do you mean by that?

Oh, arranging shows,
decorating apartments...

convincing your father
that he needed a ghostwriter.

I didn't say I had a thing
to do with that.

No. I know.

But I suspected it
as soon as I got his cable.

- So, what are you going to do? Resign?
- No.

No, I'm gonna do the job
that I was hired to do.

But I would like to know
what it's going to cost me.

Not a thing, darling.

It was sheer altruism on my part.

Altruism?
All of a sudden you're an altruist.

Well, don't you think–

- I think that I need a drink.
- Shall I tell you why I hate you?

- No, I–
- 'Cause all the time you were away...

you kept coming between me
and whatever I was doing.

Because I saw your face
in crowds, in the street...

in my mirror when I was
alone in my room...

because I ate, dreamt,
slept, lived you–

you and your black magic.

I hate every inch of you.

I hate your superiority,
your black Irish eyes...

and your arrogant nose.

What was that?

Oh, it must be the door.

- Oh, yes?
- I'm from the Acme Employment Agency, sir.

Oh, the, uh–

- Well, come in. Come in.
- Yes, sir.

Kitchen's right in there, if you don't, uh,
mind waiting for a minute or so.

Fine time of night
to be sending people over.

Well, did you say
you wanted him tonight?

No. Must have been
your father's secre–

Oh, well, that explains it.
The well-known Augur efficiency.

Fitz, what is it?

Fitz.

Haven't I seen you someplace before?

I wouldn't rightly know, sir.
It depends on where you've been.

I've been to a great many places,
including Ireland.

Indeed, sir?

- Where'd you come from?
- The Acme Employment Agency, sir.

- Before that.
- Me last place, sir.

- Where was that?
- Oh, there were no complaints, sir.

No complaints at all. I take great pride
in my work and joy in my service.

- What on earth's the matter?
- That man.

I have a feeling I've seen him
someplace before.

Oh, well, he probably worked for
one of your friends or something.

You know, these servants get around.

Yes, I guess that must be it.

- Well, I'm gonna have that drink.
- Good.

I bought your favorite brand
of scotch. Here.

Well. Where'd you hide it?

I'll find it for you.
It's right down here.

- There it is.
- Ah, you think of everything, don't you?

- Mm-hmm.
- Bourbon too?

Bourbon too.
Two cases in the kitchen.

- What else?
- This.

Can I help you, sir?

Uh, yes.

- Mix us a drink.
- A drink.

Yes, sir. Right away.

Never mind the drink, Fitz.
I'm going.

- There's too much traffic in here.
- It is a little crowded.

- See you home?
- No, don't bother. I'll take a cab.

I'm sorry about that man of mine.

Oh, everyone's having servant problems
these days.

Take me to lunch tomorrow?

- I'll stop by your office tomorrow.
- Fine. Good night.

- You can throw that one away now.
- Yes, sir.

Throw it away, sir?

Couldn't you drink it yourself, sir?

Ah, 'tis a great pity.

One should not waste
good food, one should not.

It's only one drink.

Still, it'll save a man
from freezing to death...

or dying from fatigue, it could.

All right. All right.
Drink it yourself.

Well–
If you insist, sir.

- To your good health, sir.
- Sit down.

Yes, sir.

Sit down. Sit down.

- The agency sent you, hmm?
- Yes, sir.

What can you do?

Oh, anything you have
a mind for me to do, sir.

I can cook, clean,
take care of your clothes.

Anything at all, at all.

What would one call you?

Well, you might call me Horace.

I've always had a fancy
to be called Horace.

Horace. If that's your name,
we'll call you Horace.

Thank you, sir.

What about your salary?

Oh, that's all been
taken care of, sir.

Oh, Mr. Augur's office.

Horace, you– you made that too strong.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

You'll have to be patient
with me till I know your taste.

And another thing.

I don't like to be disturbed
when I have visitors.

Always knock on the door
before you come in.

Yes, sir. I'll keep it in mind.

I think that's all.

You can finish your drink
and then go to bed.

Thank you, sir.

That's too strong for you, hmm?

Hmm. I'll throw it away.

And what can I do for you?

I'm from the Acme Employment Agency.

I was told there's a position
for a gentleman's gentleman.

You're too late.
The position's filled.

I demand to see the master.

And what would you be telling him?

That you got the sack from your last place
for getting into the port?

Not to mention pinching the parlormaid
till the poor girl was black-and-blue.

Away with you, you omadhaun,
or you'll feel the back of my hand.

- Good morning, sir.
- Good morning, Horace.

- Who was that?
- Oh. Nobody at all, at all.

Just make yourself comfortable.

I'll have your breakfast here before
you can say Michael McGillicuddy.

- Horace, has the paper arrived?
- I'll get it for you, sir.

- Horace.
- Sir?

What are we doing
with all this milk?

- What milk, sir?
- The milk.

I thought you might have a cat.

Now, Horace–

- I'll get your paper, sir.
- Look here, Horace.

I'll go and–

I'll answer that.

Sorry to disturb you,
Mr. Fitzgerald.

- Was your milk delivered this morning?
- Yes.

Two homogenized, one coffee cream
and a pound of butter?

Yes. I guess so.
Why do you ask?

Why, everybody else missed
their deliveries.

I don't get it.

I left it on every doorstep
as per schedule.

- Thanks, Mr. Fitzgerald.
- Every day I leave milk on–

Hello, Acme Employment Agency?

Uh, this is Mr. Fitzgerald–
Stephen Fitzgerald speaking.

Yes, I'd like to inquire about a manservant
that you sent up here to me.

That's right.
What do you know about him?

He came to us very highly recommended,
Mr. Fitzgerald.

Oh, yes. We've had him
in several positions.

Stealing?

No, sir.

You might consult his references.

I could give you the names,
if you'd like.

No, no. Never mind.
That won't be necessary.

Thank you.

You stole that milk, didn't you?

Why would I be doing
such a thing, sir?

I can think of one explanation...

but it would mean
I'd be losing my mind.

Have you ever seen this before?

- I'm a poor man, sir.
- Answer yes or no.

I've never seen it before
in all my life, sir.

There's one thing certain.
You can't stay here.

You're too disturbing.

I'll give you a month's salary,
but you'll have to leave.

- Leave, sir?
- Yes. Right now.

Here, here. Stop that.

I said stop it, Horace!

I can't help it, sir.

I've displeased you, and I wanted so much
to serve you.

For heaven's sake, stop that crying.

The best master I ever had in my life,
and I've ruined everything.

- I'm a failure.
- All right, all right. I take it back.

You can stay.
Only stop that bawling!

I knew you didn't mean it, sir.
You'll never regret your decision.

The first thing you're going to do
is turn that milk back. Every bottle!

Yes, sir.
Every bottle of it.

Hello?

This is the Acme Employment Agency.
Is this Mr. Fitzgerald?

It is.

You don't say.

Well, I've changed my mind.
You may consider the matter closed.

You should have kept out
of this bridge traffic, Horace.

I'm late as it is.

- There's plenty of time, sir.
- I have a very tight schedule today.

I have lunch with
Miss Augur at 1:00.

I want you to pick me up at 2:00 sharp
and drive me to campaign headquarters.

After that, I have a press conference
at the office at 3:00...

and then the Women for Augur.

Ye– What women are they, sir?

The Women for Augur, a group
of public-spirited citizens.

What's the matter?

'Tis a slight indisposition
of the machine, sir. Nothing more.

You!

What are you gonna do,
spend the weekend?

Didn't you hear me blow the whistle?

What do you think you're doing here?

I stopped to admire the view.
What else?

None of your back talk,
or I'll run you in.

It would take you
and 10 more like ya.

Is that so?

Come on!
Get that car outta here!

- What might your name be?
- My name's me own affair.

- You don't say so!
- I've just said so.

Say, you have a sharp enough tongue
to be a Kerry man.

Well, to tell you the truth,
I'm from County Clare.

County Clare, is it?

But I've relatives who live
by the Lakes of Killarney.

- You do indeed?
- I do indeed.

It's 30 years since
I left the old country.

You don't say.

Perhaps I know some of your people.
It's likely I do.

No, you wouldn't– Simple, humble people.

Come on, Horace!
Do something!

Get out, all of you!

I can't wait around any longer, Horace.
I'm going to have to take a taxi.

May I suggest that
you take the subway, sir?

What you lose in dignity
you'll gain in time saved.

Very well. Put this thing back together and
pick me up at the restaurant at 2:00 sharp.

Yes, sir. I hope you enjoy
your lunch, sir.

- I'll give you a little push to the curb.
- Won't be necessary, thank you.

Lots of room for everybody.

- Move right in. Come on. Step lively.
- Quit your shovin'!

Step lively. Come on, hurry, please.
Step right in.

Yeah, one more. Come on. Step right in.
That's it. Over here.

Doors closing.

Oh, I'm terribly sorry.
You know how it is with the rush hour.

It's– I-It's just terrible here...

because the car goes around a turn.

- It's all right. I–
- And, you know–

- Pardon me. Let me brush your hat.
- That's all right. I have it.

- I'm terribly sorry.
- It's all right.

- And such a beautiful hat too.
- Thank you very much.

It is really beautiful.

Excuse me. Pardon me.

Excuse me. Pardon me.

Stand back. Let the people out!

Let 'em in, mister.

Plenty of room in the back.
Push on in back.

Plenty of room in the back!

Norah!

Norah! Norah.

You here!
It's– It's impossible.

- Oh, I didn't expect to see you.
- But you in New York– it's a miracle!

Oh, it's hardly that. There's
a perfectly reasonable explanation for it.

It's still a miracle.
A succession of miracles.

You see, my car broke down and I had
a very important luncheon engagement.

My chauffeur advised me
to take the subway.

It's the first time I'd been in one since
I got back to New York.

But if I hadn't taken that particular train,
I never would've found you.

Let's move up. Where are you staying?
How long have you been here in New York?

I can't answer everything at once, Stephen.
I've been here about a week.

- And you haven't called me.
- But I didn't know where you were.

I'm stopping with Taedy's Aunt Bridget's
cousin Mrs. Crimmins up the street.

- That's just not true.
- Oh, it is!

No, no, no. You. I mean your being
here in New York.

- Here, let me take those packages from you.
- Oh, thank you, Stephen.

Oh!

I hope there's nothing
in there that'll break.

- How long are you going to be here?
- As long as my business takes me.

Take hold of my arm.
I don't want to risk losing you again.

You'd think it were something unnatural
and wonderful that I should be here.

Well, it's wonderful,
whatever else it is.

Oh, wait, wait.

I promised little Dennis I'd bring him
some candy. How much is this?

- Fifty cents.
- Ah.

Half a buck.

Four bits.

I couldn't change that.
I just sent the boy out for some change.

- Stephen, would you mind?
- Yes. Hold it.

That's funny.
I could've sworn I had–

My man must've let me go out
without my wallet this morning.

You couldn't change a doubloon,
could you?

No, not your lucky piece.

I'll wait for my change.

I was thinking of having my lunch.

Mrs. Crimmins's cousin's son-in-law Cornelius
has a bar and grill on the corner.

You wouldn't care to join me,
would you, Stephen?

Oh, I'd like to, Norah.

Except that I have a very important
luncheon engagement...

and after that three or four conferences–
the usual thing.

Sure you have.
I won't press you.

Though I hate to eat alone.

Gee, I wish I could, Norah.

You...

wouldn't refuse me out of pride,
would you, Stephen?

Pride?
I don't quite underst–

- Gee, thanks!
- Here you are, lady.

Thank you.

Forgive me for speaking
of your affairs.

I could cut my tongue out for it.

You mind if I change my mind
and accept your invitation?

Would you, Stephen?

I was never a man
to argue with miracles.

- Good, huh?
- Excellent.

Oh, no more for me, thank you.

Oh, now, Stephen,
you had hardly any at all.

'Tis me wife's own
Irish stew, sir...

and that light it wouldn't distress
a canary.

Well, just a very little bit.

Ooh!
A little bit.

- You'll have some beer with it.
- No more beer, thank you.

Just a small one.
And yourself, Miss Norah?

No, my tea'll be plenty.

Are you expecting many people?

Well, if all come that
me old lady has invited...

the place'll be running over
into the avenue itself.

Cornelius's daughter
is getting married Friday.

- Well, congratulations.
- Thank you, sir.

If you'd care to attend–

I'd like to, but my time is
pretty well taken up right now.

If you change your mind you're
entirely welcome. The more the merrier.

- Thank you.
- Cornelius, I'll take the check.

Eat now.

Oh, yes.

You still haven't told me
why you're here.

Oh, it's very simple.

Taedy's uncle Peter died here
in New York and left him a bit of money.

Mmm.
That's Mr. Crimmins, hmm?

No, no. His Driscoll uncle
from Galway.

The one that married
the eldest Brady girl...

whose father had the farm
next to Sweeney's.

Oh, that one.

Yes. You see,
Mr. Driscoll had four sisters.

The eldest was married
to Francis Corrigan...

that had a public house in Limerick
with his brother Seamus.

Well, that failed for drinking
with the customers...

so my father took Taedy on
as a lad to help with the horses.

- Then he came to America.
- Corrigan.

No. No, Uncle Driscoll,
as I'm telling you.

You see, his favorite sister was Kathleen–
that's Taedy's mother.

And when young Paddy
went to sea in 1920...

he changed his will,
leaving everything to Taedy.

He never cared much for Rory or that
little witch of a Ryan girl he married.

There was some trouble
with the O'Sheas, of course.

Mmm. Of course.

They figured that their mother,
being the eldest, was entitled to a share.

But Martin O'Shea had
done well in marriage...

with the O'Dooleys
from up Knocknasheega...

and that was only a bit of an inheritance,
a few shillings a month...

so there was no trouble to persuade them
not to make any complications.

That made everything very simple.

Oh, well, it would have been...

but for Uncle Driscoll
being a bit hazy in his notions...

and thinking that Taedy was a girl.

So he left his money to his beloved niece.
Can you imagine?

I, uh, can't think
what confused him.

Anyway, someone had to come to straighten
things out, and Taedy wouldn't budge.

He mistrusts the sea and refused flat-out
to set foot on the Atlantic.

He said, "I'd rather die a poor man,
but a dry one."

So that's why I'm here.

I'm, uh, very glad
you made it plain to me.

And I'm very glad you're here.

Oh, Stephen,
I never thought I'd see you.

When I knew I was coming, I wrote that
nice Mr. Clark in London for your address.

- But he didn't answer.
- He's probably on the Continent.

He did tell me one thing, though,
before he left–

that anytime,
whatever might happen...

he'd be glad to
have you back with him.

Did he say that?

If it's a question of passage money,
I'm sure he'd advance it.

- Well–
- Oh! A bit more of the nice stew!

- Oh, no. I couldn't.
- But you had very little before.

- But I-I–
- Aw, come on, now.

A drop of this'll do you good,
make you strong as a horse.

All right, Cornelius.

Do your duty.

- And another potato.
- Another potato.

Another potato.

Mr. Augur, a personal question.

As a former newspaperman,

how's it feel to be against the wall
instead of on the firing squad?

It feels awful.

Except I know you fellas
will give me a break.

Do you think there'll
be another war?

- I answered that a few minutes ago.
- No, you didn't.

But then, nobody else has either.

I understand you support
the Crawford proposal for Germany.

Absolutely. That's a must,
as far as I'm concerned.

I'd like to read you
a comment on this proposal. Quote:

"The Crawford proposal is a fraud
on the German people...

"a death sentence
for European democracy...

and a betrayal of American interests
and ideals." Unquote.

This appeared in
the American Spectator on June 6...

under the byline
of Stephen Fitzgerald...

the same Stephen Fitzgerald
who is running your brain trust today.

Would you like to comment? Or perhaps
Mr. Fitzgerald would like to discuss it.

Well, boys–

The answer to that is very simple.

When Fitz wrote that, he was working
for someone else. Now he's working for me.

Fellas, let me change my shirt, will ya?

I haven't sweat this much
since my first job carrying a hod.

You got any pictures of yourself
carrying a hod?

Sorry. I didn't know
I was going into politics then.

- So long, Fitz.
- Bob.

- See you, Fitz.
- Bye.

Good to see you, Fitz. Why don't you
drop around to the club sometime?

Well, they keep me pretty busy.

Yeah, we all have to make a living.

- Give me a ring, hmm?
- Right.

- Good-bye, sir. Thank you.
- Good-bye.

- Thanks a lot, Mr. Augur.
- Not at all.

You handled that perfectly, D.C.
I was afraid for a minute that–

Do you want anything else, Mr. Augur?

No, thank you.

Should have told me
about that piece, Fitz.

You read it, didn't you?

Yeah, I read it, but I didn't remember
it was so strong.

It'd be embarrassing if the opposition
made an issue of it.

But you knew those were
my views when you hired me.

Well, this is politics, Fitz.

- Where'd you put that bottle?
- Let me do it, D. C.

This is politics.
Gotta keep one jump ahead of 'em.

Right away, D.C.!

Not you.

I've got it. You'll do a piece for New Era.
We don't go to press till tomorrow night.

On foreign policy– second thoughts since
you've had a chance to study the situation.

You know, on the other hand the Crawford
proposal is not as bad as you first thought.

A pretty good thing,
in the long run.

My agreement with you calls for perjury,
but not under my own byline.

Fitz.

Have that thing on my desk
by tomorrow noon.

Here you are, D.C.

What are you doing here?

I let you go out this morning
without a clean handkerchief, sir.

I hope you forgive me. I was thinking
about it all the time I was dusting.

I said to myself,

"There's poor Mr. Fitzgerald writing
all those important political speeches...

and him without a handkerchief
to put to his nose."

That's very good of you, Horace.

Now, if you don't mind,
I have some work to do.

- Yes, sir.
- And after this, if you forget anything...

you don't need to
come chasing after me.

There's such a thing as taking
one's job too seriously.

Oh, no, sir.
Not when your heart's in your work.

It's just a job, Horace.

No, sir.
It's more than that.

'Tis a life, indeed.

When a man enters
the personal services of another man...

he must be prepared
to surrender himself to his vocation.

'Tis the master who matters,
not the man.

And soon, if the man
takes to his work...

the master's wish
will become his wish...

the master's thought his thought...

the master's soul his soul.

When the master gets hurt,
the man will cry out.

When the master's nose itches,
it will be the man who sneezes.

He will live for his master,
not for himself.

Perhaps you find it difficult
to understand, sir, because you–

you are the type
that wears no man's collar.

You are a proud, free man.

It is for that reason
that I am proud to serve you.

Will that be all, sir?

Yes. Yes, Horace, that'll be all.

Thank you, sir.

- Mr. Fitzgerald!
- Where's Mr. Augur?

- He's gone out, sir.
- When will he be back?

- I don't expect him back this afternoon.
- Where can I reach him?

I don't know. But if it's important,
I know he'll be home for dinner tonight.

He's expecting some guests.

- Have some more steak, Senator.
- No, thanks, D.C.

I lost my appetite 20 years ago.

- You'll find out.
- I already have.

I'll pay for this in the morning.

- What is it, Jenkins?
- There's a Mr. Fitzgerald to see you, sir.

He says it's important.

- Ask him to come in.
- Yes, sir.

Paula, were you listening
to the judge's conversation?

- Yes, I was!
- Wasn't it brilliant?

No, it was boring!

Come on in, Fitz.

Come in.
So good to see you.

- I believe you know everyone here.
- Yes.

Mrs. Augur, I'm sorry.
I thought you'd be finished.

That's quite all right.

Senator Ransome, this is Mr. Fitzgerald,
my good right hand.

- Ah, yes. I've heard of this young man.
- Senator.

Have some dinner, Fitz.

No, thank you. I'd like to see
you alone, if you don't mind.

Sit down. We'll be through–

I'd rather wait in the study,
if it's all right with you.

Sure. Make yourself
a drink while you're waiting.

Thank you. Excuse me.

I'll help him.
Will you excuse me?

How much do you want
for Mr. Fitzgerald, D.C.?

- He's not for sale.
- Really?

I understood he was.

Well, I hear Father's been
his usual sweet, tactless self again.

Never mind the drink, Frances.
I'm not in the mood.

Now, really, Fitz–

As you were instrumental
in getting me this job...

perhaps you'd like to be the first
to read my resignation.

I hope you know
what you're resigning from.

I think your father made that
quite clear this afternoon.

I guess I shouldn't tell you this because
it's still supposed to be a secret...

but I happen to know what
he has in mind for you.

He hasn't let me in
on the secret yet.

If he wins the election...

he's going to have to find someone
to run the publishing house.

Naturally, he'd prefer to promote
somebody in his own organization...

somebody who understands
the Augur way of doing things.

Go on.

Of course, it would have
to be somebody he can trust.

Or manage.
What about Higgenbottom?

Oh, no, Fitz.
This isn't a job for a yes-man.

It's for a man who has the intelligence
to recognize his big chance...

patience to wait for it
and the resolution to seize it.

Father's a bit of a fool
to go into politics.

He has more power right now
than a dozen senators.

The man who sits in his office
will inherit that power.

Not if he's still running things
by remote control.

- He won't be. I'll see to that.
- You? How?

Leave that to me.

D.C. Augur will be perfectly happy
making speeches in Washington...

while Stephen Fitzgerald
makes history here in New York.

Well, it's a very alluring prospect,
but–

Of course you'd use
the power for good, Fitz,

but the important thing
is to have it.

It's all very well to have ideals...

but what good are they
if you can't reach the people with them?

- But I'm not sure that's what I want.
- It's what I want.

But you have it now.

No, I haven't.
I can wheedle certain things...

but I'm not a partner.

You go with the job?

If you want me, Fitz.

Got some cigars here–

Oh.

Excuse me.

Here they are, Senator.

You needn't have
waited up for me, Horace.

I thought you might
require something, sir.

- I'd like a drink.
- Yes, sir. Right away.

- Fix one for yourself too.
- Thank you very much, sir.

I'd like you to drink
to my health, Horace.

I'm going to be married.

Aye, indeed, sir?

Would it be the tall lady, sir?

Hmm?
Oh, Miss Augur. Yes.

Ah.
You're a fortunate man.

She'll make a fine mother
for your children.

There's more to marriage than
just having children, you know, Horace.

Oh, indeed there is, sir.

In riches and poverty,
sickness and health...

love, honoring and obeying.

She'll make you a fine wife, sir.

It's a very important decision...

probably the most important
that a man makes in his life.

Oh, indeed it is, sir.

May I ask what prompted you
to make it?

Well, one doesn't stop to analyze
one's behavior when one's in love.

No, sir, but there must be
something about the tall lady...

that made you select her
as your partner for life.

- Well, she's beautiful, for one thing.
- She is indeed, sir.

- With a man's courage and a man's brains.
- Yes.

Is there anything wrong with
a woman's courage and a woman's brains?

We won't discuss it any further.

No, sir.

You have something against her,
haven't you?

Me, sir?

No, sir, nothing at all, at all.

No one's forcing you to stay here
and keep on working for me, you know.

No, sir. After the wedding
I'll be looking for another place.

You don't have to make up your mind
right now, Horace.

You'll have no further need
for me after that, sir.

Will that be all, sir?

- Yes, that'll be all.
- Yes, sir.

- Good night, Horace.
- Good night yourself, sir.

Oh. The saints forgive me, sir.

I forgot to tell you
that I waxed the floor.

Yes, Horace.

It was very thoughtful
of you, Horace.

This is good, Fitz!
It's great!

I like this ad-lib finish.

I think it's just perfect
for the Journalists Club.

Sort of one newspaperman to another.

How would it be if I put
my hands in my pockets?

You know, informal, homespun.

I wouldn't get too homespun.
You're liable to unravel.

Yeah.
Mustn't overdo it.

But this speech could be one of
the most important in the campaign...

if we don't make any mistakes.

- You're certainly right there, D.C.
- Of course I'm right.

Don't you have anything to do
this afternoon?

No. I'm all finished for the day.

Finished for the day.

Well, this is our chance
to recapture the working press.

Well, if you don't have
any further suggestions or criticism...

I'll see if I can get that deathless
document mimeographed.

By the way, I've arranged for you
to sit at the speaker's table tonight.

- I wasn't planning to attend.
- Well, change your plan.

My agreement with you doesn't cover
the way I spend my evenings.

In this case it does.

Take it easy, Fitz.

If these were normal conditions
I wouldn't insist...

but you're a member
of this Journalists Club.

What'll your friends say
if you don't show up?

- Assuming that I have any friends left.
- Ah, you're oversensitive.

There aren't 50 newspapermen
in this town who entirely agree

with their paper's policies.

Our relationship's
a little different, isn't it?

Sure, but this is politics.

- Politics makes–
- Strange bedfellows. I know, I know.

I haven't been sleeping
very well lately.

Well, if I'm not complaining,
why should you?

Consider what Lincoln had to put up with.
Here, have some of this.

Thank you.

There's a gentleman to see you, sir.

- Well, Bill, you old son of a gun!
- Hello, Fitz!

- How are you? It's good to see you!
- Fine.

What brought you– Sit down.
Sit. Can I fix you a drink?

No. It's a little early.

How about a cigarette?
Oh, I keep forgetting. You gave 'em up.

What brought you to New York?

The Spectator is calling
in all its foreign bureau chiefs.

You know, consultation.
You live here, Fitz?

- Yeah.
- I see.

Oh, I'm not responsible for the decoration.
A friend of mine did those.

But I'll be giving the place up
soon anyhow.

Sure, sure. I understand.

Pretty expensive keeping a man, eh?

Huh?
Oh, I don't pay him.

- Oh?
- No, no. Augur. Augur does it.

Augur. You're still
working for Augur.

Well, of course.

Look, fella, you don't
have to put it on with me.

What did you do?
Tell him where to head in?

Sure. Then he passed
the word around. I know.

Have you been drinking?

Fitz, I have return plane reservations
for Monday. I've got some for you too.

- You're going to Italy for us.
- Bill, I–

It's a break for me,
whatever happened.

Norah's cable arrived just as I was
leaving for the airport in London.

- Norah's cable?
- Sure. She's a girl in a million.

- What did she say?
- I got it right here.

I wired Bronson and got his okay
to sign you.

I had no idea–
no idea she'd do anything like this.

Like what?

She got it into her head
that I was broke.

- I should have told her the truth.
- The truth?

Yes, I'm still working
for Augur, Bill.

- You're–
- Yeah, of course.

I should have known
it was too good to be true.

Gonna explain that to Norah?

I should've done it before this,
but I've been busy and–

You'd better make it good.

I'll be on my way.

- Let's get together before you go back.
- I'll see you tonight.

- I'm going to hear your boss.
- Don't waste your time.

Why not? I hear he makes a good speech.
Here, that's yours.

- Oh, where can I reach you, Bill?
- The Nelson.

- So long, Fitz.
- Bye.

Oh.

Excuse me, sir.

The tall lady called, sir. She wants you
to take her to the Jennison reception.

She said she'd call back again, sir.

- The tall lady, sir!
- Oh, yes.

You talk to her, Horace.

Tell her I'm tied up or something.
Make it sound good, hmm?

Yes, sir.

Stephen!

- Stephen! You came after all!
- Yes. Bill Clark came to see me.

- He's here?
- Norah.

- Now, uh, you say that Bill is here?
- Yes, Bill's here.

He came to see me in my apartment,
and he offered me a job.

Oh, I'm so glad.
When'll you be coming back?

Well, listen, Norah, I–

What's the matter with you?
This is the second time. Why don't you–

- Norah? Norah!
- Oh, Stephen.

Stephen Fitzgerald,
this is Terence Flaherty...

of Hook and Ladder Company 38,
the pride of the New York Fire Department.

- Well, Mr. Flaherty. How do you do?
- How do you do?

What's the matter?

- Do you smell smoke?
- Smoke?

Yes.
Back room perhaps, hmm?

Back room?

Yes. Definitely smell smoke
from someplace.

Might very well be back there.
I'd have a look if I were you.

Come on. Let's try it
over here again.

Now look, tell me
about that job of Bill's.

Just what did you say
to him in your cable?

Oh! He got it then!

- Yes, he got it then.
- Oh. You'll forgive me for that.

I had no right
to interfere in your affairs.

But, Stephen, it wrung my heart to see you
like that. I hope I haven't offended you.

You couldn't offend me if you tried.

Welcome to the party, sir!

I'm certainly glad
you were able to make it.

Here. Drape that over your tonsils.

Norah, I have a confession to make.
I have a job.

- You have?
- A very good job.

I'm well on the way
to being a very rich man.

You lied to me.

- No, I didn't lie to you.
- You did so.

Then it was the truth,

all that about the motorcars and
drivers and important appointments?

Yes. If it was the truth,
how could I be lying to you?

Don't try to wriggle out of it.

Just go tell Terence Flaherty
that I'm not busy.

You're not angry, are you, Norah?

Of course I'm not angry, being made
a fool out of in broad daylight.

- Well, I tried to tell you that–
- You did not!

There's no smoke out there.

- Well, you'd better try upstairs.
- Oh!

Oh, Stephen Fitzgerald,
you're a wicked and deceitful man.

And me filling you up with Irish stew.

Well, it was wonderful stew.

It was not. She puts too
much flour in the gravy.

But I'm glad you got
what you wanted from life.

♪ The pale moon
was rising ♪

♪ Above the green mountain ♪

♪ The sun was declining ♪

♪ Beneath the blue sea ♪

♪ As I strayed
with my love ♪

♪ To the pure
crystal fountain ♪

♪ That stands in ♪

♪ The beautiful vale ♪

♪ Of Tralee ♪

♪ She was lovely ♪

♪ And fair ♪

♪ As the rose
of the summer ♪

♪ Yet 'twas not
her beauty ♪

Ah, it's a lovely song.

You won't be going back home soon?

Oh, I have my passage
on the steamer tomorrow.

- But you've only been here a week.
- But my business is done with.

There's no reason to stay.

But, you know, there's– there's so many
things that I wanted to talk to you about.

♪ That made me love Mary ♪

- Do you still smell smoke, Mr. Fitzgerald?
- Why, Terence Flaherty!

Certainly.
Don't you?

Now, Stephen– Now stop it!

Stephen!
Now look here–

Leave him alone, honey!
Leave him alone!

Oh, no, you don't.
Now, Stephen, you'll not fight anymore.

Ste– Stephen!

Stephen. Oh, Stephen,
are you all right?

This is terrible.
I'm so sorry.

Speak to me.
Open your eyes.

Will somebody please
get him out of here now.

Oh, Stephen.
Oh!

♪ Mary ♪

♪ The rose of ♪

♪ Tralee ♪♪

Stephen. Stephen,
it was all my fault.

Oh, Stephen.
Praise be, you're alive.

Oh, darlin'.

Nice– Nice friends you have.

Now, don't be saying
anything against them.

- Norah, I–
- Oh, you mustn't move. Your poor head.

No, I'm all right.
I have to go.

- But you should rest for a little.
- I'm late as it is.

Uh–

I'll see you home.

- Good night, Cornelius.
- Good night, child.

God keep step with you.

I live here, Stephen.

Good-bye, Norah.

Good-bye?

Why, I was hoping you'd see me off
on the steamer tomorrow.

I'd like to, but I–

I'm going to the country
for the weekend... with my fiancée.

I'm being married in a month.

I wish you happiness, Stephen.

Good-bye.

Good evening, sir.

Perhaps you can explain this to me.

'Tis a bit of an old pebble, sir.

A half an hour ago that was a coin
from your pot of gold.

What sort of wild talk is that?

You know very well
what sort of talk that is.

May I ask what's on your mind, sir?

- The truth, Horace. I want the truth.
- Keep your distance, Fitzgerald!

Away he went!

- Let me go.
- Now I got ya.

- Come clean now.
- I don't know what you're talking about.

Oh, you don't, eh?

What about this shoe, huh?

Take your hands off me, Fitzgerald.

I'll be happy to give you
any information you require.

You are the leprechaun, aren't you?

And– And I'm crazy.

I've been crazy ever since
that first night in Ireland.

I'll answer your questions in turn.

I am...
what you say I am.

The term, perhaps,
is not quite the best usage.

As to your mental condition...

'tis true you're a bit
on the weak-minded side...

but you're as sane
as you'll ever be.

Aren't you a little
large for a leprechaun?

That's a page in me family history
we won't go into, if you don't mind.

I'm parched from all
the exercise you've given me.

You mind if I have a drink?

Do you mind, sir?

You brought Norah
over here, didn't you?

No. You brought her here
yourself, Fitzgerald...

long ago, in your mind.

Her physical presence
alters nothing.

What are you trying to do,
ruin my life?

Let's discuss the matter
calmly, Fitzgerald.

Do you mind?

You must believe me when I tell you that
I was prompted by the noblest of motives–

simple gratitude
and affection for yourself.

It was for that reason that I left me native
waterfall to come here and dwell in your–

in your cold, inhospitable city.

And I don't mind telling you...

I'm a little bit homesick.

My nose itches
for the smell of peat...

and me eyes water for the sight
of a blackthorn in bloom.

'Tis sad indeed that I've been unable
to complete me mission...

and that I must
leave you in failure.

But I didn't ask you to come.

To be sure you didn't.

But then, you don't always
wait for an invitation...

to follow the brave music
of a distant drum.

You see, I've learned to like you.

Still, I suppose
I must be philosophical.

There will be
other centuries to come.

And other young men...

with a nose for treasure.

I offered you gold.

'Tis not my fault
that you prefer a pebble.

Horace, I–

I've tried to give you,
as sincerely as I can...

my view of the issues
of the campaign.

Not that I expect you
all to agree with me.

Frankly,
I'd be a little worried if you did...

as long as a good, healthy disagreement
is the essence of a free press.

I hope you won't be too hard on me.

Remember, I used to be
an honest newspaperman myself.

Off the record, I wish I still were.

Well, I'd like to make
a little announcement.

If I'm lucky enough
to win the election...

I intend to resign
from Augur Publications.

I've given a good deal of thought...

to the selection of the man
who will take my place.

I didn't have to look far.

For the past couple of months,
I've been honored...

to work with one of the best
newspapermen of our time.

You all know him
as a first-rate reporter...

and a whale of a good fella.

Steve Fitzgerald!

Come on up here!

Go on, say something, Fitz.

Well, I'm– I'm very grateful to Mr. Augur
for his– his very flattering offer.

But I can't accept.

In the first place,
I wasn't cut out for the job.

And in the second place...

Mr. Augur should have someone
in charge of his publications...

who agrees with him on the issues.

Is this on the record, Fitz?
Can we quote you?

- Well, I–
- What are your own plans, Fitz?

I– I haven't any.

I haven't any except...

to sit under a waterfall
with an old friend of mine.

Fitz, come back.
Fitz!

Give us some more, will ya, Fitz?

- Just a moment!
- We're all here! How about a statement?

Mr. Augur,
do you have any–

- You're seriously leaving?
- You can tell us more than this!

Now, wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Wait a minute, fellas.

I've said enough.
You heard it all.

- Any chance you'll change your mind?
- I'm resigning now, for good.

What about the engagement?
Is it on or off?

I'm afraid that's up to Miss Augur.

How about that, Miss Augur?

Are you gonna share that waterfall?

I don't think I'm invited.

But even if I am,
as Mr. Fitzgerald would say...

I'm afraid I wasn't
cut out for the job.

Good-bye, Fitz.

Good-bye, Frances.

Good-bye.

- Hmm?
- It's well-written, Fitz.

But I don't agree with a word of it.

What's wrong with it?

Anyone who knows a thing
about conditions in Italy–

I was there. Were you?

- Oh, I should have gone myself, I know.
- All right, all right.

You don't like it, I'll
turn it over to D.C. Augur...

now that he's safely back
in the publishing business.

Who said I didn't like it?

We'll run it as a series.

The usual rates.

Are you two gonna sit here
all night arguing?

It's this pigheaded
husband of yours, Norah.

- He has no respect for my gray hairs.
- He's getting an Augur complex.

- Don't you want a nightcap, Bill?
- No. I'm going to bed.

- Good night, Taedy.
- Good night, Mr. Fitz.

Come on, honey. Taedy, just leave
that bottle on the table there.

I had no intention of touching it,
I can assure you.

You first.

- Good night, Bill.
- Good night, Bill.

- Good night.
- If you want anything, just sing out.

- Thanks. I want a wife like Norah.
- There aren't any.

If he gets altogether unmanageable,
I'll remember that.

Bill!

What's the idea?

Oh.
Oh, it's you.

- What were you doing with the bottle?
- Shh! Shh-shh!

It's for an old friend of mine,

just in case he needs something
to keep out the cold, you know.

He–

Good night.

- Good night.
- Good night.