All language subtitles for Teachers.Pet.1958.1080p.WEBRip.x265-RARBG

* Teacher's pet *

* I wanna be teacher's pet *

* I wanna be huddled
And cuddled *

* As close to you As I can get *

* That's the lesson *

* We're guessin'
You're best in *

* Teacher's pride *

* I wanna be teacher's pride *

* I wanna be dated, paraded *

* The one most likely
At your side *

* Ya got a burnin'
Yearnin' to learn *

* I wanna learn *

* All your lips can teach me *

* One kiss will do
At the start *

* Are you really? *

* I'm sure
With a little homework *

* I'll graduate To your heart *

* To your heart *

* Teacher's pet *

* I wanna be teacher's pet *

* I wanna take home A diploma *

* And show Ma
That ya love me, too *

* So I can be teacher's pet *

* Long after school Is through *

* Teacher, teacher
She loves you **

Now you can see the elevators

leading up to
the executive offices.

That's it, step right in,
ladies and gentlemen.

That's the idea.
That's fine.

And now if you'll just get up
a little closer to the table

you'll all be able to view
this room quite well.

This, ladies and gentlemen,
is the City Room,

the heart center
of every newspaper.

Here you see only a handful

of the 2,500 highly-trained
specialists

employed by
the Evening Chronicle.

Men and women
who work tirelessly,

not only in this vast building,

but in every country
in the world.

Editors, reporters,
photographers,

who become your eyes and ears
in war and peace,

who make it possible for you
to sit in your arm chair

and witness history
in the making.

Men and women who uphold

the highest tradition
of American journalism

and are dedicated
to the task of making you

the best-informed newspaper
reader on this earth.

These are
some of the papers you saw

printed only a few minutes ago.

These first copies
are rushed up here

to be distributed among
the editors and reporters

so they can be checked in case
there are any mistakes.

Now, in this department,

all the news of the city is
funneled through the City Desk--

Which one's the city editor?

I'll get to that
in a moment, madam.

Headed by the city editor

who is seated over there

in the center of the room
facing his entire staff.

That's Mr. Gannon.
Yes?

Mr. Gannon. Yes,
James Gannon, yes, madam.

And at the far end of the room
is the office

of our managing editor,
whose name is Lloyd Crowley.

And down the hall, Colonel
J.R. Ballantine, our publisher.

And now, ladies and gentlemen,

what you may find
of interest next

is what we term in newspaper
parlance the morgue.

So if you'll just follow me
right over here,

I'll be very happy
to show you what we have.

Mr. Gannon,
could I talk to you--

I don't care what his brother
thinks of him.

That won't sell a paper.

Get me a quote with lace on it.

Mr. Gannon--
Archard!

Where's the city hall story?
Can I talk to you?

You want to talk
to me about what?

My son.

Look, madam, I don't know
how you got in here

or who you are,
but I've got a--

I'm Mrs. Kovac. My Barney
works for you. That's who I am.

Oh.

Barney's mother?

Why, glad to meet you.

Yeah, I bet you are.

Say, Jim, Fisher's calling in.
He's down at Bellevue.

Some dame tried to
commit suicide over a guy.

Swallowed a whole bottle
of sleeping pills.

Now that's the business
to be in: sleeping pills.

You wanna send a cameraman?

That depends
on who she is. Find out--

Wait a minute.

- Mr. Gannon.
- Yeah, uh-huh.

No, he says they
just pumped out her stomach,

and all they got was
a quart of bourbon.

That's not
a bad business either.

In that case, no pictures.

Listen, I been trying for
weeks to see you.

I can't get you on the phone.
I have to take a tour.

What are you, the president?

We've got a paper to get out,

and your boy helps us do it.
You should be proud.

Why? He's just an errand boy.

Copy boy.
Same thing.

Do you want me to start him
as managing editor?

I want you to fire him.

Mr. Gannon,
he's gotta go back to school.

What for?

What for?

Because I want him
to get educated, what for.

So did his father.

Mr. Gannon, his father
worked all his life

in an overcoat factory
on 7th Avenue.

He took a dictionary
along with him

every day in his lunch pail.

"But, Edna," he said to me,

God rest his soul, he said,
"You get Barney educated.

That's the golden key."

Gannon.

Try it tomorrow. This is okay.

Ahem, Andrews'll get you
quotes from the deputy mayor

and you and he
can get together on a sidebar.

Did you hear what I just said?

Certainly.

He took the dictionary with him
every day in his lunch pail.

"Edna," he said,
God rest his soul,

"Get Barney educated.
That's the golden key."

With all due respect,
Mrs. Kovac,

you see
that fancy-Dan over there

clipping pictures
out of the paper?

He's got a golden key:

Phi Beta Kappa.

I keep him around for laughs.

Uh, you, uh, wanna see
something else?

This, uh, letter
from some professor

up at the university,

E.R., uh, Stone.

Would I, uh, favor them
by appearing as guest lecturer

in one of their night school
journalism classes?

Me, Jim Gannon,
who never went to high school.

So what's it got
to do with Barney?

Barney wants to be
a newspaperman.

He'll never learn that
in school.

Your baby's grown up,
Mrs. Kovac.

He's old enough to decide
his future for himself.

Yeah, how can he decide

when he don't even know
what he don't know?

Mr. Gannon, I think
if he was educated,

who could tell
what he could find--

I'll tell you one thing
he won't find

is another chance
like he's got here with me.

I'm teaching him his business.

During lunch, I let him
take a whack at a news story.

Then when I get the chance,
I show him his mistakes.

I didn't need him, I just put
him on as an extra because--

You wanna play father?

Oh, Mr. Gannon,
kids don't come that easy.

You have one first.

You wash his diapers,
you stay up nights with him.

You love him and you worry about
him like for about 18 years

and then maybe--

Maybe you have a right
to tell him what to do.

Gannon.

Oh, hello, Peggy.

Yeah. How are you, honey?

Sure. Sure,
I can see you tonight.

It's Tuesday. Aren't you
gonna play poker?

Oh, I have
a very important conference,

but I could, uh,
get there for the last show.

What? A new joint?
The Bongo Club?

Oh, yeah, sure, sure.
I know where it is.

Yeah, I'll see you later, honey.

All right, Mrs. Kovac,
I'll talk to Barney.

You will?

Like a Dutch uncle.

Or is that still
too closely related?

Oh, my! Oh!

I've been having such
a hard time with that boy.

Oh, relax.
He's a very fine boy.

Thank you.

We're very proud of him.

Oh, thank you very much.

Thank you.

Goodbye, Mrs. Kovac.
Bye-bye.

Pleasure to see you.

Jim. Here's the new murder lead.

Is that the way you want it?

Yeah, it's all right.

Mr. Crowley
wants to see you right away.

Okay, Barney.
Oh, by the way...

I know you're gonna fire me.
I just saw her going out.

I told her not to come.

I told her I won't go to school

no matter what anyone said--

Now, wait a minute, kid.
Wait a minute, slow down.

I didn't tell her
I was gonna fire you.

I just said I'd talk to you
like a Dutch uncle.

And maybe I will
one of these days.

Gee, thanks, Mr. Gannon.

Oh, uh, Barney,

I, uh, I read
this story of yours.

Stinks, huh?
Well...

Barney, I...

C'mon, we'll talk about it
on the fly.

Now in the first place-- Oh,
by the way, you heard about it?

What?
They found him dead.

Who?
The boss.

No kidding! When?
A few minutes ago.

Where'd they find him?
In his office.

How'd it happen?
Well, some dame shot him.

Some dame? Why?

Barney, you just asked me
six very important questions.

Who, what, where,
when, how, and why?

That's what every news story
should answer.

You haven't done it.

Gee, Mr. Gannon, you had me--
Had me half scared to death.

Rewrite it.
Yes, sir.

Miss Hughes,
may I use your typewriter?

Yes, Barney, I'm all through.

Now, Jim, what do you mean
you're not going?

I sent you a special memo
to take care of it.

I did take care of it.

I wrote a nice long letter.
You got a copy of it.

Yes, I certainly did, Jim.

And I told the professor
that he was--

It's not a he, it's a she.

Well, I'm glad I didn't know
that when I wrote that letter,

or I would have really sound--

Do you mean to tell me
that now they've got dames

teaching unsuspecting
suckers how to--

Now, Jim.

I'm not supposed to get excited.

I don't want to get excited.

But when I read your letter--

I just wrote exactly

what I thought
of journalism classes.

You wouldn't want me
to lie, would you?

Oh, yes, I would.

Oh, you know as well as I do
it's a waste of time.

Where did you learn
the newspaper business?

Working for a newspaper,

and not sitting
with your nose in a book

at some cockamamie university.

Oh, now, now, Jim.

The colonel
who pays your salary and mine

is on the board of trustees
at that cockamamie university.

And last year, they gave him
an honorary degree.

Yeah, they pass those things out

like somebody dealing
a poker hand.

But the colonel
is proud of that degree.

And I'm sure
he wouldn't want you

to do anything to embarrass him

at that cockamamie university.

Look, Crowley,
I don't like eggheads.

I don't like colleges.

I can't even stand
the smell of chalk.

Now please don't ask me--

Jim.

Now, don't get me wrong.

I'm not asking you
to go up there.

I am telling you to go!

And you get there early and
apologize to that woman or--

All right, all right.
If you really want me to go.

Yes, Jim. I want you to go.

No trouble. No trouble.
Thanks.

Thanks.

Uh, could you tell me
where I could find

Professor Stone's
journalism class?

On the right.
Room 102.

No smoking in the building,
please.

Here you are.

Thank you.

Excuse me.

Oh, is Professor Stone around?

She'll be here in a minute.

Good evening.

Good evening.

Evening.

Oh, could I have
a few words with you

before the class starts?
With me?

Yes. You see, there's a little
something I'd like to explain.

Uh, you know, it's like I said
to some of the boys,

anybody who teaches journalism

has gotta have a sense of humor.

You know what I mean, professor?

You see, when I first got that--

Professor?

Yeah, when you sent me the...

Aren't you Professor Stone?

No. Clara Dibney.

I think we can begin now.

Oh, would someone
close the door please?

Everyone be seated.

Everyone.

Thank you very much.

And welcome to this survey
course in journalism.

I see a few familiar faces
from last semester,

and, of course, many new ones.

I don't know
quite what you expected

but, um, I hope that
you won't be too disappointed.

You know, we have been
very lucky every year

to have had some of the really
top men in the newspaper field

come and talk to us.

Men from The Times, the Tribune,

Daily News and many others.

So tonight, to start us off,

we invited James Gannon,
city editor of the Chronicle.

Unfortunately, however,
he is not with us.

In his place,
Mr. Gannon sent a letter.

And although
it's addressed to me,

I feel that, uh, this is
something you all should hear.

"My dear Professor Stone."

At least I'm grateful
for the promotion.

"Thank you for the flattery
implied in your request

"that I appear as guest lecturer
in your journalism class.

"Thank you, but no, thanks.

"If you've ever been inside
a real, live newspaper office

"you'll remember that
a city editor's job

"is to get out a daily paper.

"Unfortunately, that doesn't
leave him much time

"for such pleasant diversions
as bridge luncheons,

"guided tours
through Rockefeller Center,

"the canning of crabapples,

"and lectures
to journalism classes.

"Maybe it's just as well.
If I came,

"I might get carried away by the
spirit of academic integrity,

"and tell your unsuspecting
students the truth.

"That the only way
to learn about the fourth estate

"is with first-hand experience.

"In the school I graduated from

"there were no lectures without
four-letter words in them.

"No books except those thrown
at you to wake you up.

"No degrees besides the third.

"Information was gotten

"by keeping your eyes and ears
open and your nose clean.

"Inspiration by
a swift kick in the pants.

"To sum it up,

"I think
you're wasting your time

"and I prefer not to waste mine.

Yours truly, James Gannon."

Any comments?

Yeah.
Who does he think he is?

Oh, he must've been joking
or something.

No, I'm afraid
he was quite serious.

You see, I happen to know
Mr. Gannon very well.

As a matter of fact,

I can give you a perfect
picture of this man,

without ever having seen him.

He works, I'm sure,

with a cigarette dangling from
his mouth, like so.

In a suit that he hasn't had
pressed in months.

And, of course,
he has the battered old hat

that he wouldn't give up
for the crown of England.

Poker comes easy to him,

but, oh, boy, he drinks hard.

After he's had a few,
he'll always tell you:

"Why, I never even got to high
school, and I'm proud of it."

Then, of course, he'll, uh...

Oh, and he boasts about his
exploits with the ladies.

Of course he'll never
marry anyone but his job.

In short, he's a perfect example

of that dying race,

the unpressed gentlemen
of the press.

I hardly have to
stand up here

and defend education.

As my father always said,

"Education teaches a man
how to spell experience."

Hear, hear!

So I shall continue wasting my
time, as Mr. Gannon put it,

teaching you about
reporting, copy reading,

makeup, and rewrite.

And we'll let Mr. Gannon
throw books,

and kick young men in the pants,

and continue to be one
of the few relics

of antiquity on display

outside the Museum
of Natural History.

What about this dame!

Did she tell this jerk off
or did she tell him off?

Oh, yes, Miss Fuller
has the textbooks,

the daily papers, and if you'll
just pick up a few copies,

I think we could get started.

Information.

Yes.

Yes, that class was tonight.

Oh, but you can still enroll.

Well, I would suggest
that you drop by tomorrow.

I think that would be
a very good--

And another thing:

I don't mind you taking
that creep to lunch,

but why does it
have to cost $6.60?

Where do you think you're
working? Harper's Bazaar?

What happened?

I still don't know.

I merely said
I liked college football

better than professional,

and he called me an idiot
and began to chew me out.

So it's your turn today.
Teresa got it yesterday.

And I'll probably
get it tomorrow.

You can have my doghouse now.

Well, thank you, Teresa.
I figured I'd get it.

He doesn't work anyone harder
than he works himself.

He's still the first one
and the last one--

Barney!
Yes, sir!

What do you think
this is, a weekly?

Sorry, sir.

What's this?

"'The future belongs
to the educated man, '

"Dr. Martin Edwards,
president of Tipps College

said today at a meeting
of the board of..."

It's just routine, Jim.

A handout from the university
association. We always run them.

- I know we always.
- And we're gonna stop it.

If they got something to sell,
let them take an ad.

No more of these
free-ride college items

unless I clear them personally.

There's a "please use" on it.

"Please use"
doesn't work here anymore.

And those night schools.

There's a nice little racket.

Some dame standing up there

never been closer to a paper
than putting in a want ad,

telling them
how to be journalists.

Stealing their money.

Amateurs teaching amateurs
how to be amateurs.

Mr. Gannon?

Later.

And another thing,
I don't wanna look at

that Phi Beta Kappa's puss
around here any longer.

Put him on the night side.

Okay, Jim.

One of these days,

somebody ought to go down
there and show 'em up.

Let those poor jokers see

what a phony-baloney
the whole thing is.

Walk right in
that classroom and...

And then, of course,
in this sentence

whom do you mean by "he"?

The grocer.

That's not clear, Mr. Appino.

It could mean the boy.

You see,
when writing news articles,

you must be careful
about pronouns

so as not to confuse the reader.

Uh, would someone
turn the lights on please?

- I'll do it.
- Thank you.

We'll have a little breather

while Miss Fuller gets us ready
for the second feature.

By the way, is, uh,
anyone absent tonight?

No. Just that fella
with the moustache.

I wonder what--

We don't even have
an enrollment card for him.

We don't?

That's odd.

He must have been
in the wrong classroom.

Uh, may I have
your attention, please?

Before we go on,
I just want to say that

for a first try,
your pieces aren't bad at all.

As a matter of fact,
I'm proud of you.

Certainly, they're not as bad
as I make them seem

standing up here
taking potshots at them.

However, on the other hand,

you're not quite ready
for The New York Times.

Now, if I seem to be--

Sorry I'm late, professor.

That's all right.

If you don't make a habit of it.

Uh, if I seem to be
rushing things a bit,

it's only because I believe
in learning by doing.

You see, by writing and studying

your news stories,

you'll see the importance
of some fundamental rules.

The first one being...

Well, Kipling said it quite well
in a poem that he wrote:

"I keep six honest serving men,

they taught me
all I knew. Their--"

What and why

and when and how
and where and who."

That's right.

But it wasn't Kipling.
It was Emerson.

Um, no, Kipling, I believe--

Want me to look it up?
Whoever it was,

the thought is what's important,
wouldn't you say?

And the thought
to always remember

is that every news
article should...

I'm sorry, I didn't mean
to sound so curt, Mr...

What is your name?

Uh, Ga-- Gallagher.

It's just that our time
is so limited here and...

That's all right.
I only thought... Never mind.

No, no.
No, please. Say it.

Well, I don't know much
about newspapers,

but I always had the idea

that getting the right name
on a quote

was considered
kind of important.

Yes, by all means.

This class is supposed to be run
like a real newspaper, isn't it?

You're quite right. You see,
in a class of journalism,

accuracy is equally as important
as punctuality.

It was the cross-town traffic.

And the-- And the point
that we're making in passing

is well worth emphasizing.

Um, a prominent editor
was once asked

what were
the three most important things

to remember
about newspaper work.

And he said--

"Accuracy,
accuracy, and accuracy."

It was Joseph Pulitzer.

Mr. Gallagher,
are you enrolled in this class?

Enrolled?

We couldn't find a card for you.

No, I didn't know.

Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Gallagher,

but you see this class is
restricted to enrolled students.

Of course, if you, uh,
care to register,

you can always make arrangements
at the office.

Excuse me.

Good night, Mr. Gallagher.

CORY
In paragraph five she says,
"Many of the customers."

shouldn't she identify them?

- You mean here?
- Yes.

Uh, yes, that's right. As I
mentioned before, Miss Gross,

whenever possible,
give the names.

All right. Lights, please.

My card.

Oh.

Yes, well... Um...

Uh...

What do I do now?

Uh, yes, well, um...

Uh, I'm not quite sure
what to do with you.

Um, you see, everyone's
written a news article.

Maybe you could
listen to the criticisms.

Couldn't I try writing one?

Oh, well, no,
that wouldn't be fair.

You see, you haven't had
the benefit of any discussions--

I read papers all the time.
It doesn't look so hard.

Oh, you're mistaken,
Mr. Gallagher.

Good newspaper writing

is a highly
specialized technique.

Oh, let me take a whack at it.

You can't kill a fellow
for trying.

All right.

Here are the salient facts
about a recent piece of news.

I would like you
to write 250 words or so.

You can use that desk
in the rear, if you will.

Oh, by the way, do you type?

Well, you know...

Well, there's no rush.

If you don't finish tonight,

you can always work on it
over the weekend.

Fair enough.

"Doesn't look so hard"?

Get a load of him.

I don't mean to criticize

because his story
was so much better than mine,

but, uh, but don't you
think the first part is, uh,

too long getting to the point?

Yes, that's right, Mr. Appino.

Do you understand that,
Mr. Cory?

Yes, I do.

Well, let's just sum it up
by saying that--

That the reader's interest
must always be captured

as soon as possible in the lead.

Uh, Mr. Gallagher, I'm afraid
you misunderstood me.

I said 250 words.

I said it all in 150.
Is that bad?

No, but--

Well, you know what they say:

"News writing
is literature in a hurry."

Uh, five minutes?

I'm not used to the machine.

Mr. Gallagher, you're not taking
this work very seriously.

You can't have
given it much thought.

Well, I did the best I could.

Sit down, please.

Yes, ma'am.

I think we'll read
Mr. Gallagher's article next.

I'm not sure I can read it
as fast as he wrote it, but...

"A trigger-happy teenager
bent on robbery

"shot Jerome Heffner, 62,
at 5:30 p.m. yesterday

"and left him bleeding to death
on the sidewalk

"in front of his grocery store

"at 286 East 110 Street.

"Within minutes
after the shooting,

"Rosario Salas, 17, was captured

"in an alley behind the store
and brought to Heffner's side.

"'That's the one, ' cried
Heffner, pointing at Salas.

"Heffner had been robbed twice
before in the past 18 months.

"'I just couldn't
take it no more, '

The dying grocer told Sgt. Dan
O'Rourke of the homicide squad.

"'When this crazy kid
waves his gun at me

"'and says to give him my money,

"I just threw the dollar bills
right in his face.'

"The young assailant
is the oldest of nine children

"of widowed Mrs. Hermonita
Salas, 623 Cerdo Street.

"He was held
for investigation of murder.

"'I didn't mean to hurt nobody, '
Salas told Sgt. O'Rourke,

"'But when he threw
the money at me, I don't know,

"'people been throwing things
in my face all my life.

I guess I couldn't take it
no more.'"

I think Mr. Gallagher
deserves an apology.

I accused him of not being
serious, and I was wrong.

This is a remarkable
first effort.

In fact,
Mr. Gallagher has written

one of the best news articles
I've ever had in my class.

This piece covers everything
that I've been talking about.

Not only does
Mr. Gallagher answer

the what, when, where,
who, why, and how,

he puts them in such a sequence

that a routine news item

takes on all of the impact
of a short short story.

Now, let us look for a moment

at how Mr. Gallagher
constructed his story.

In journalism,
there are two basic patterns...

Boy, I wish
I could write like that.

It really had impact.
It was excellent.

Without labeling it,

you pointed out the entire
minority problem.

Just great, man. Great.

I was just lucky, I guess.

See you the next time, boy.

Wonderful.
Good night.

Uh, excuse me. I was just
wondering if I left a book here.

But I guess not.

I'm glad you came back,
Mr. Gallagher. I was...

Do you have a moment?

Certainly.

Well, I've just been reading
your story again and it's...

It's absolutely amazing to think

you've had no experience.

Well, I sold papers as a kid

and, oh, I play poker every
week with a friend of mine,

a reporter. That's all.

Well, it's just excellent.

Oh, but there is one thing,
Mr. Gallagher.

In the future, use triple space.

That's the way
they do it on newspapers.

Oh, they do?
Oh, yes.

Thanks, I'll remember.

And, of course,
phrases like "trigger-happy"

are a bit hackneyed,

but we'll get rid
of those clichés, won't we?

Now, what business are you in?

Uh, paper. Uh, wallpaper.

Wallpaper.

And why are you
taking this course?

In other words,
just what are you after?

Uh, well, that's pretty hard
to put into words.

To tell you the truth,

I didn't want to come
here in the first place.

My boss forced me to do it.

See, he's planning on getting
out a weekly down at the plant.

You know,
"Dottie Sprink from Shipping

"and Harry Harper from Legal

have decided to tie the knot."

That sort of drivel.

Oh.

Well, naturally
I was hoping that...

You mean, you're
really not interested in--

Oh, no, no, no,
I didn't say that.

But, uh, I must admit

I was pretty teed off
the first time I came here.

My friend, the reporter,

uh, he said that you'd be
a frustrated old biddy

who'd read the textbooks
and never written a line.

And taking a course
from someone like that

would be like betting on a
three-legged horse, he said.

Uh, then you must've agreed
with that letter

of Mr. Gannon's that I read.

Oh, no, no, no. I wouldn't go
as far as he, but,

you know, you were
pretty rough on him,

awfully rough,
and I don't think he meant--

Rough?

I should have been a lot
rougher. Why, I've never heard--

Well, he's no bum, you know.

He's pretty well thought of.
My friend, the reporter,

he says he's one of the best--

But he still
considers journalism a trade.

It's not a trade, Mr. Gallagher.
It's a profession.

And the basic fundamentals
can be taught

the same as in medicine.

But Mr. Gannon
doesn't agree. Oh, no!

He'd like to see surgeons
operating at the age of 10

and learn by trial and error.

Now wait a minute.

I'm sure he thought
you had a lot of fakers here

but if he could talk
to you for five minutes...

I won't waste my time.

...he'd know that you had real
newspaper experience.

Of course, I've had experience,

and so has every instructor
in this school!

Now wait a minute,
you don't have to sell me.

After last week--
Oh, I'm sorry.

I shouldn't have gotten so
angry. Forgive me.

It's just that--
Oh, that's all right.

But, you know, there's one thing
I can't quite figure.

What?

How could you give up a real
newspaper job for teaching?

Well, that's a very good
question, Mr. Gallagher.

Maybe for the same reason

that occasionally a musician
wants to be a conductor.

He wants to hear
a 100 people play music

the way he hears it.

If I can influence
a few students

who might some day
become reporters

and eventually editors...

Well, I think it's worth a try.

I have my own ideas about
what newspapers should be

and I know they can be a great
deal better than they are.

Oh, look at this.
Blood and sex.

Journalism is so much more
than blood and sex.

You liked my story
about that murder.

That's "blood," isn't it?

I didn't say I disapprove of
blood, it's just that--

How do you feel about sex?

Well, I'm all for it.
But some--

Good night, Mr. Gallagher.

Good night, professor.

What?

No! No, no, no,
I am listening.

Repeat that address again.

Uh, 9795th Avenue.

Who's free?

Gartner.

Um...

Gartner.

Yeah. Yeah, I got it.

I'll shoot someone over
right away.

Yeah?

I almost forgot.
Press conference.

Got some visiting fireman
from Russia.

Grab a cameraman. I told them
we'd be right over.

Okay.

What's the matter?

Well, that's one way
to end the Cold War.

How's this?

Fine.
I'll give you the name--

Yup. Yeah.

This is the Chronicle.

You have
a Professor Stone there.

All right, instructor.
Initials E.R.

Uh, what's the first name,
please?

Erica.

Mmm. Uh, married or single?

Good. I mean, uh,

switch me over there,
will you, please?

Miss Stone's office.
Who's calling?

Who?

Well, I, uh...

Uh, just one moment, please.

It's James Gannon
of the Chronicle.

He's here?

On the phone. He says
can he drop by tonight?

There's something
he'd like to explain.

Tell him to write me
another letter.

Hello?

Write another letter.

Hello! Hello!

All right, doll,

if that's the only way
you'll play.

Oh, Mr. Gallagher.

Oh, hello.

I, uh, I want to thank you
for the lovely flowers.

It was a pleasure.

Well, it really wasn't
necessary, you know.

Besides being wrong
about Kipling,

I wanted to apologize for
last time. I was an awful sass.

Oh, not at all, Mr. Gallagher.

It's, uh, very stimulating
for a teacher

to find a student
with an inquiring mind,

you know,
someone who challenges her,

asks questions.

Well, uh, in that case,

there's one more question
I'd like to ask.

What do I have to do to
get kept after school again?

Well, I was wondering if you'd

stay after class tonight
for a private conference?

I have a proposition
to make to you, Mr. Gallagher.

Hi, Gallagher.
How's it goin'?

Fine.

Miss Stone's office.

Hello.

She has someone in conference,
Dr. Pine, but I'll buzz.

Oh, no, I'm sure she won't mind.

No, that's all right.

You think
you can get the tickets?

Well, if you can, I'd love it.

What?

Yes, call me back, will you?

I'm sorry. He's very amusing.

Now, Mr. Gallagher,
I think I mentioned to you

that the dean was greatly
impressed with your news story.

And he believes that anyone
with your natural ability

should be allowed the privilege
of taking on extra work.

That's the proposition?

Yes. Think of it.
Well, it's a chance for you

to practically cover
two semesters in one.

No, no, no, I don't--

You'd have to have
private instruction.

Oh, I'd work
very closely with you.

Well, in that case...

Um, do you have any free time
during the day?

No, I am afraid we'd have to
work together at night.

All right.
On your way out,

Miss Fuller can set up an
appointment schedule for you.

Now, let's see...

What sort of thing would you
like to tackle next?

Well, I--

I want you to get the feel
of investigative reporting.

To learn to root out
the hidden reasons and facts.

Expand that piece you wrote.

Do an interpretative follow-up
of about 2,000 words.

Two thousand? That's an awful
lot of work.

Isn't it?
Yes, it is.

But as my father used to say,

"A reporter has to do
a lot of sweating,

before he earns
the right to perspire."

You keep mentioning
your father. What did he do?

He ran a country newspaper.

Well, of course, I don't know
much about this sort of thing,

but my friend I told you about,
you know, the reporter?

He says nobody's interested
in a rehash like this.

After all,
it happened a week ago.

Doing another story
on it would be like, uh,

trying to make a salad
out of old lettuce.

Uh, excuse me for
saying this, Mr. Gallagher,

but your friend's
kind of reporting

went out with Prohibition.

This isn't a rehash.

I'm talking about
the big why behind the story.

This is the function of a
newspaper in today's world.

While TV and radio
announce spot news

minutes after it happens.

Newspapers can't compete
in reporting

what happened any more.

But they can and should tell
the public why it happened.

What made your story
so interesting?

I'll tell you. It was Salas'
reason for firing the gun.

Listen to this.

"When he threw
the money at me, I don't know,

"people been throwing things
in my face all my life.

I guess I couldn't
take it no more."

But he said it on the spot.
It tied in with the story!

Young Salas gave a vague,
bitter, tormented reason.

But behind that
why are a hundred other whys.

One on top of another,
they led to violence.

Was it because he's a member
of a minority group

struggling to solve the complex
problem of assimilation?

Did society at large

create the climate
for this tragedy?

Mr. Gallagher,
out there in the city

are some of the answers.

Files of
the immigration department,

dark shadows of Central Park,

tenements,

overcrowded schools,

the jails, the police stations.

And it's your job
to try to find them.

You know, that's the kind
of thing you read

when you're waiting
in a dentist's office.

The guy who fights his way
on a subway

every night
after a hard day's work,

hangs onto a strap with one hand

and a newspaper with the other,

doesn't want to wade through
a dull explanation--

The man on the subway is a lot
more curious than you think.

You ask anybody

except that outdated
reporter friend of yours,

and you'll find that today the
average man wants to know why.

Please, Mr. Gallagher,
won't you try writing it?

All right.

But couldn't we go someplace

and have a cup of coffee
and talk it over?

No, thank you. I've, uh,
got to get home.

I have a lot of reading and--

Only take a few minutes.

Maybe you could show me
how to start.

No, no, no. This is what's
called in the trade

a think piece
and I want your thinking.

I know you've-- Excuse me.

Hello.

You got the tickets.
Well, that's wonderful.

They were sold out
weeks ago, I thought.

You know, you're fantastic.

What?

That's lovely. Yes.

Hold on a second, will you?

Good night, Mr. Gallagher,
and good luck.

Yes.

What time shall I expect you?

Good night.

Good night.

Well, I just think it's great.

You're supposed to put me down
for an evening conference.

Tomorrow night
would be, uh, good for me.

Let's see. No. Tomorrow night,
Dr. Pine.

Saturday night, Dr. Pine.

What's with this Dr. Pine.
Doesn't she feel well?

You're Tuesday at 9:30.

Seven would be better for me.

Perhaps we could have dinner
together, you know and...

Nine-thirty.

Concert, Dr. Pine,
Tuesday. I'll put it down.

Yes, I'll be right in.

You're now Wednesday at 9:30.

Here's the advance
Jim Bacon AP story.

Drama.

Sorry, Jim,
haven't got a quarter.

Broke even tonight,
didn't play. Anything?

Nothing much.

They found a homemade bomb
in a locker at Grand Central.

No damage.

Must be that same screwball.

Tell me, why does a guy
do a thing like that?

What difference
does it make? He did it.

Uh, give me some coffee, please.

There's got to be a reason.

I keep sayin' to myself,
"Why, why?"

I, uh, need some stuff, Bill,

on the local
Puerto Rican situation.

Want me to check the clips?

No, no, no. I know what
we've got in the morgue.

I need more intimate stuff:

Census figures on family income,

housing, employment,

uh, survey on prejudice,

uh, police, uh, statistics--

You mean like for a think piece?

Yeah, like for a think piece.

I doubt if we have
anything up-to-date

enough for that.
We never use it.

I can round up
something tomorrow if you--

I wanted it tonight.

Why?

I'm going to school.
I need it for my homework.

You ask a silly question,
you get a silly answer.

Yeah.

Mr. Gannon?

Beg your pardon, Mr. Gannon,

but I couldn't help
overhearing...

Well?

I think I might have
what you're looking for.

Where?

Right here in my desk, sir.

There's quite a bit on
that Puerto Rican situation.

Getting more explosive
every day.

Got anything on that kid

that killed the grocer at 110th
Street about a week ago?

The Salas boy.
Yes, sir.

Uh, give me a think piece,

about 2,000 words
on the factors and conditions

that led to the killing.

Yes, sir.

Soon as you get the lead
finished, let me see it.

Yes, sir.

I can't seem to get it out
of my mind, Mr. Gannon.

What?

Why does a guy
do a thing like that?

Maybe he was sore
at the world, that's why.

I'm sore at the world, too,

but I don't go around
planting bombs.

Let me speak to Miss Erica
Stone's office, please.

There's got to be
a reason behind it.

The bomb was heavy. He got tired
of carrying it around

so he put it in the locker.

Only costs a dime, you know.

Hello. Uh, let me speak
to Miss Erica Stone, please.

She's gone home.

I'm sorry, Mr. Gallagher,
I can't give you her address.

Not without
faculty authorization.

But, uh, I've finished

the first paragraph
of my assignment

and, uh, I just wanted
to drop by her place

for a few minutes

and, uh, see
if I was on the right track.

If you mean the inside track,
the answer is no.

Dr. Hugo Pine is coming along
fast on that one. Good night.

Dr. Hugo Pine.

How's the fan mail this morning?

Fine.
I just got more for you.

Thank you.

Hello, Barney.
How are you this morning?

How are you, Miss Fletcher.
Fine, thank you.

Got a lot of mail
there this morning.

Good morning.
Good morning, Harold.

Get me everything
you can on him.

Dr. Hugo Pine.

P-I-N-E?

Right. Hurry it up,
will you, Tess?

Here's the rest of
that Salas story.

Take you all night?
Yes, sir.

You should have
knocked it out faster.

After all, how long does it take
to say we need better housing,

bigger playgrounds
and more schools?

Well, I wanted
to talk to Salas' mother.

I got there early
while they were still asleep.

I wanted to find
something out. I was right.

They were living eight
in one room.

That's against the housing law.

The landlord's a gouger.

There's a $40 rent
ceiling for one room,

but he takes another 40
under the table.

It was that 40 the boy was after

when he killed the old man.

Okay.

What's your name?

Miller. Harold Miller.

All right, Miller.

Roy, put Miller
back on the day side.

Okay, Jim.

Gannon.

Here's that information you
wanted on Dr. Hugo Pine.

"Special consultant,

"psychological warfare,
U.S. Army.

"Member, governor's committee
on state mental hospitals.

"Chairman, mayor's
investigating committee

on juvenile delinquency.
Head of..."

When did he win the Nobel Prize?

He also writes books.

Yeah, I guess I could have the
bookstore send them up to you.

Any particular ones?

Whatever he's written.

Okay, I'll take care
of it right away.

Oh, Gladys.
Gladys, get me the bookstore.

Thanks a lot!

All right.

What's that?

The books you ordered,
by Dr. Hugo Pine.

I said one copy of each.

That's what you got,
Mr. Gannon.

And here's the bill.
$83.40.

Eighty-three...?

"The Psychoneurotic
Manifestations

of Abnormal Cultural Patterns."

Well, I...

Just catching up
on a little reading.

"The Mind in
a Primitive Environment."

"Symptoms and Syndromes"?

Yeah, like Burns and Allen.

"The Effects of Frustration
on the American Woman."

That is the story of my life.

That I gotta read.

"Formulation and..."

What does this guy do,
write in double talk?

Must have taken him
a good 60 years

to write all this stuff.

Yeah!

Yeah, yeah.

Yeah, with no time off
for bad behavior.

Hey, the old boy must be about
ready to retire on his pension.

Hey, wait a minute.

Here's a picture of the guy.

Brother!

What is this?

Doesn't anyone do any work
around this joint any more?

I'll read it during lunch.

Uh, Mr. Gannon?
Yeah?

I was wondering if,
uh... Well, um...

Roy said it was all right with
him if it was all right with you

that, uh, I could try writing
a few obituaries.

Yeah, I think
that's a good idea.

And here's a great one
to start on:

Dr. Hugo Pine.

Uh, how did he die?

I haven't decided yet.

What's a five-letter word
for New Zealand parrot?

I know I don't have
an appointment with her

but I just want to see her
for a couple of minutes.

She's reading
the rest of your story.

She'll see you when she's done.

But I want to see her
about something else.

It won't take more than--

Oh.
Oh, sorry.

Come in.

Mr. Gallagher, I'm so excited
about this piece.

Well, thanks.
It's a brilliant job.

I've just been comparing it
with these other stories and...

Well, you don't know
what it means

for a teacher
to find someone like you.

Oh, it wasn't so good.
Awfully long, I thought.

Oh, it could stand
a little work.

And I'd love to sit here
with you and work on--

Okay, let's. Do you
mind if I take my coat--

No, I'm sorry I have
a dinner appointment.

It's a friend's birthday.

As a matter of fact,
I'm late already.

But before you go,

I want you to make me a promise.

What's that?

That you'll give up
the wallpaper business

and really make
a stab at reporting.

No, no,
I don't think--

I'll help you
in every way that I can.

Mr. Gallagher,
I've never before

asked a night class
student to do this.

I'm so sure about you.

Why, these pieces you wrote
are good enough

to be printed in any paper in
this town. Really they are.

Before I take a step like that,

shouldn't I
prepare myself a little more?

I didn't mean tomorrow.
Take some other subjects?

Of course.
English. History is valuable.

What about, uh, psychology?

Excellent.

Any particular class or teacher?

Well, it's a little late
for this semester,

but Dr. Pine is here
at the university.

He's one of the most
eminent men in the country.

No, no, I don't get along
with eggheads like that.

Not Hugo.
Hugo?

Dr. Pine.

He's a delightful, unassuming,
wonderful person.

Yeah.
As a matter of fact,

he's the one I'm having
dinner with tonight.

I'll mention it to him.

I'm sure there's something
that he could suggest.

Hmm. No doubt.

But, Mr. Gallagher,
you do think that

someday you
really might consider

giving up what
you've been doing?

Someday?

I'm giving it up right now.

I can see I've been
wasting my time.

Mr. Gallagher, I'm delighted.

Let's shake on it.

Mr. Gallagher!

So long, professor.

Cigars? Cigarettes?

Cigars? Cigarettes?

Cigars? Cigarettes?

What kind would you like, sir?

These days
a girl's gotta know

all about deductibles,
capital gainses,

things like that,

or she can wind up
working for the government.

Hmm.

What do you think?

Hmm.

Huh? What?

Never mind. You've been
thinking enough today.

Someone you know?

Slightly.

Who's the character with her?
Hmm?

He's dreamy.
Must be from Hollywood.

He's a psychologist.

No kidding!

Well, what do you know?

It just shows you,
you can't tell by looks.

Jimsy, what's a psychologist?

A guy who gives
all kinds of advice

about things he knows
nothing about.

So he's got more degrees
than a thermometer.

So he speaks seven languages.

So he's read every book.

So what?

The important thing is
he's had no experience.

He didn't start at
the bottom and work up.

That's the only way
you can learn.

You're so right, Jimsy.
Take me.

Where would I be if
I just read books?

Well, I gotta go get undressed.

Coming over after?

Talk to him about
anything but psychology,

and I bet you
he's a dead pigeon.

Don't get mad at me.

I've got plenty of experience.

Yeah. That's what I like
about you.

Coming over after?

You got a date.

Just thought I'd
drop by and say,

"happy birthday."

Oh, Mr. Gallagher,
how thoughtful of you.

This is Dr. Pine.

How do you do?
How do you do?

Mr. Gallagher's the star pupil
I was telling you about.

Oh, yes.
He's very advanced.

Won't you join us for a drink?

Don't mind if I do.
Scotch.

Erica?

Nothing, thanks.
I'm doing just fine.

Waiter.
Yes, sir?

Two scotches.

Where's your friend?

Who?

Oh, you mean Miss Defore?

She had to go backstage.
She sings here.

Oh!

She's very pretty.

Very talented too.
I'm sure.

Really a delightful,
unassuming, wonderful person.

Congratulations on
Symptoms and Syndromes.

That ought to sweep the country.

Have you read it?
Hasn't everyone?

Well, I doubt it.

I haven't been able to
get through it myself. Heh.

Miss Stone mentioned
that you might be interested

in taking an elementary
psychology course.

No, I changed my mind.
Just a waste of time.

Well, I agree with you.

Those lectures
can be mighty dull.

I know. I give them.

I could suggest
a course of reading for you.

Give you twice as much
in half the time.

And it'd be a pleasure for you.

There wouldn't be
a single book written by me.

Cigars? Cigarettes?

Oh, ahem. Cheers!

Cheers.

Cheers.

Cigars?

Then he spears
this hot line drive,

runs over and touches second,

then dives over and tags
the runner sliding in.

It was in 1921.

The only unassisted triple play

in World Series history.

His name was Bill, um...

Wambsganss.

Yeah.

Wasn't that the 1920 series?

'21.

No, no, it was the '20 series,
now that I think of it.

I remember reading about it.
Cleveland against the Dodgers.

The Indians took five games.

That year they first played
a five out of nine game series.

Of course, they did it again
in '21, but the following year

they went back to
best four out of seven.

Waiter! Round.

We were on the bridge.
The admiral and I looked off

and there was a kamikaze

headed straight
for the Enterprise

coming in low--
Isn't that a coincidence!

I was on
the Enterprise at the time.

What a day.
What a day that was.

I remember I was topside
at that particular moment.

I was on duty at the time--

Would you like to dance?

Of course.
Just go right ahead.

Excuse us.

It's the mambo.

What's the matter?

Oh, it's a bit
crowded, you know.

It doesn't look too dangerous.

Where's your sense of adventure?

If you'll excuse us.

Looks like they're getting ready
to start the floor show.

Yeah, good.
Uh, cheers.

Right.

Same table?
Triples yet.

Where's he puttin' them?
Where are we gonna put him?

Oh, try it.
It's very simple.

How about you, sir?

Well, I'll try.

Aah!

Whoa!

That was
a watutsi tribal rhythm.

It's played at
victory celebrations.

To the watutsis.

Now a little change
from the Afro-Cuban rhythm.

Ladies and gentlemen,
the gal who invented

rock 'n' roll,
Miss Peggy Defore!

* At the college Campus scene *

* I was elected campus queen *

* And I got
A degree for anatomy *

* Directly from the dean *

* I drove
That professor insane *

* With my extraordinary *

* Scientific brain *

* Oh, I'm the girl *

* Yes, I'm the girl *

* Oh, I'm the girl *

* Who invented rock 'n' roll *

* Oh, I'm the dame *

* The dame to blame *

* Yes, I'm the girl *

* Who invented rock 'n' roll *

* Now, you've heard
Of instant coffee *

* You've heard Of instant tea *

* See here, you guys,
Just feast your eyes *

* On little old instant me *

* 'Cause I'm the she *

* You're lookin' at me *

* I'm the girl *

* Who invented rock 'n' roll *

* I'm the girl
Who inaugurated rock *

* Rock 'n' roll **

- Don't worry.
- She'll be back again.

Say, she is talented.

Yeah.

Oh, dear.
Here, let me help you.

I'm sorry.

Oh, here, here.
That's all right.

We'll order another round.
Waiter!

I think we've all had enough,
Mr. Gallagher.

What's the matter,
can't take it?

Oh, it's a very strange thing.

I once did some research

on the psychological
aspects of inebriation.

I've developed
what you might call

a mental control
of liquor's effects.

I can drink any amount at all,

and it doesn't bother me a bit.

Well, it doesn't bither me
a bot, either!

Thank you.
Thanks.

It's been lovely.

Waiter!

**

Oh, you leaving too?

Yes. Can we give you a lift?

No, it's all right.
It's all right.

It's all right.
It's all right.

Can I give you a little help
with your friend?

No. I'll manage.
Just get us a cab.

Yes, sir.

Let us give you
a lift home, old man.

Don't old man me, old man!

I'll be okay.
Of course you will.

All you need is a bit of oxygen.

Here, just take a good, deep
breath of air. Like this.

Hugo, are you all right?

Oh!

May I come in?

Just a minute.

Come in.

Will this help?

Oh, yeah. Thanks.

For him?
Oh, nothing will help him.

How do you feel?

I never sobered up
so fast in all my life.

Seeing him in the gutter

was better than a Turkish bath.

- Well, I never...
- What happened?

- Oxygen.
- It'll do it every time.

Oh, dear, and he has
a 8:00 class in the morning.

Not tomorrow morning.

Why don't you cross
with the light sometime?

You'll find it
a wonderful experience!

You know,
you were right about Pine.

He's quite a guy.

Yes, he is.

Good at everything.
Mmm.

Sometimes that's quite a strain.

Strain?

Yes, you keep
wanting him to miss.

Just once.

Like tonight, I think
I liked him best of all

when he fell flat on his face.

You know what I mean?

I know what you mean.

Oh, dear.

It makes people human

to do something
wrong once in a while.

Like you.

Me?

This evening, in my office.

Oh.

Not that I'm for encouraging
that sort of thing,

you understand.
No, of course not.

The teacher-student
relationship

is a very complex one.

Hmm, very.
You, um--

You have to be, um, friendly and

yet keep your distance
at the same time.

Sure. Sure.

Otherwise, um, how would you

ever, um, um,
maintain discipline?

Hmm, it'd be tough.

Thank you so much
for bringing me home.

It was very nice
of you and I had a--

Cup of coffee?

I could use one.

Would you like to see the view?

If the view, if you lean out
far enough, it's not bad.

Not bad in here, either.

You know, I could kill
that secretary of yours.

She had me convinced
that you and the doctor

were about to
become a vital statistic.

Hugo?

Hugo and I are
collaborating on a book.

Oh!
Yes.

The psychological factors
of newspaper readership.

Say, that's a pretty racy title.

You, um, like a bite
to eat with that coffee?

You can set the table,
if you will.

Are you sure it's
not too much trouble?

Only takes a minute.
Instant cof--

Now, you've heard
of instant coffee.

And I know you've
heard of instant tea.

* Well, all you guys
Just feast your eyes *

* On little old instant me *

I haven't known her very long.

Oh, really?

She's a friend of that
reporter I told you about.

Oh, that's where
you met her. Oh!

* 'Cause I'm the girl *

* Who invented rock 'n' roll *

Nice kid.
Supports an invalid mother.

Is that right?
Oh, now, that's sweet.

* 'Cause I'm the she *

* You're looking at me *

* Yes, I'm the girl *

* Who invented Rock 'n' roll *

And another thing.

Take the knife out of my back.

* 'Cause I'm the dame *

* The dame to blame *

* Yes, I'm the girl *

* Who invented rock 'n' roll *

She's off on Mondays.

Maybe you could fill in for her.

Well, I think
that would be very nice.

I'll invite the whole class.

Oh, where's another chair?

In there.

* 'Cause I'm the dame *

* The dame to blame *

* Yes, I'm the girl *

* Who invented rock 'n' roll **

"Joel Barlow Stone."

You found me out, huh?

Joel Barlow Stone.
Erica Stone.

What did your father do?

He ran a country newspaper.

That's all it was.

The Eureka Bulletin.

A country newspaper
read around the world.

I never tied it up.
You and--

I'm glad.

At least I know you
didn't come to class

because I'm my
father's daughter.

That small one's
the editorial he wrote

when he won the Pulitzer Prize.

The Bulletin's front page,
the last one.

That was on his desk
as long as I can remember.

What's the matter?

Uh, nothing.

It's just that I feel
like a would-be inventor

going through Edison's workshop.

People always talk about him

as if he were
some sort of a giant.

You know something?

He was just
a hard-headed Hoosier

with a way of putting
his finger on the truth.

I think you'd have
liked him, Jim.

I know he'd have liked you.

Of course,
I never read his newspaper,

but I certainly read about him.

I've got stacks of old copies.

Some day we'll go
through them if you'd like.

Believe me, this is
an education in itself.

I'll bet it is.

That's what this book

that I'm writing
with Dr. Pine is about.

To show why
the Bulletin was so great.

It's sort of
a blueprint of journalism

for students to read and follow.

I once asked you why
you took up teaching.

I can see now.

Yes, I want to get
across his ideas.

What a newspaper meant to him.

Jim, I'd like you to keep it.

It should belong to
a good newspaperman.

I ain't.
But you will be.

You know, my father
always said I had

a better nose for
newspapermen than for news.

I can't take that.

Yes, you can.

Consider it a bribe, huh?

Bribe?
Yes.

For you to stick to the decision
that you made tonight.

Look, I know
it isn't easy to give up

a steady job for something
that seems like a gamble.

But I have so much
faith in you, Jim.

I want to help you get started--
No.

I'll do everything--
I can't.

But I want to.
Don't you understand?

Jim,

this morning you were
just a very talented pupil.

But tonight...

I think we're being whistled at.

How about some, um, raspberries?

We have a little, um,

scrambled eggs?

Bacon and tomato sandwich?

Mr. Gallagher, you're pretty
hard to please, I must say.

Oh, dear, that's had it.

Say, how about some waffles?

If I do say so myself,
I make very good hot--

Jim?

Oh!

Oh!

Morning.

Hangover?

Calling what I have a hangover

is like referring to
the Johnstown flood

as a slight drizzle.

I'm sorry you missed
that 8:00 class.

I may miss the whole semester.

What do you want?

Well, I just wanted to
see how you felt.

I was wondering if there's...

Do you mind if I
have some coffee?

If you don't rattle
the cup and saucer.

Please.

I've tried some
morning-after cure-alls

in my time,
but this is about the most--

The recipe was given to me
by an anthropologist.

It's a mixture used by

a tribe of cannibals
in the Melanesian Islands.

They drink this brew

whenever they eat
a poisoned enemy.

Of course, it really should
be made with a lizard egg.

But you can't have everything.

Now, what do you want?

Well, this friend of mine--

Please,

don't shout.

I wasn't shouting.

To my ears, at the moment,

you sound like
a parade of banshees.

Well, you're an authority
on human behavior.

I thought so until last night.

I mean you've made
a study of the reactions

of individuals under
certain conditions.

Also mice.

Well. This, uh--
This friend of mine,

Max, uh, uh, Minnick,

uh, he, uh, he came to me
the other day with

a personal problem.
He wanted my advice.

Well, I didn't know
what to tell him.

It's, uh, uh...

I have a feeling if he doesn't
handle this just right,

he's in real trouble.

You see, he met this girl...

Yeah, that's quite a problem.

I would advise that...

Oh, there's more?

Now, this girl knew Max
only by name,

and she hated his guts.

So in order to get anyplace,
he used a phony name,

Uh, uh, Max Martin.

They've been
getting along great,

but it can't go on like this.

What should he do?

Well, it all depends.

Is he in love with her,
or is this merely

a transitory amour?

Well, it started out as a sort
of a hit-and-run proposition

but he didn't, uh...

Yeah.

I guess you could say

he was sort of in love with her.

Is he planning to marry her?

Oh, no, no, no.
Max isn't the marrying kind.

Yet he didn't take
advantage of this

hit-and-run proposition.

It's therefore obvious
that Max has affection

and a deep respect
toward this lady.

Oh, yeah, he's got that.

Well, she's just not
one of those dames, you know.

In that case,
it's entirely possible

that he might find
a respectable union

such as marriage,

not completely repugnant to him.

Well, I never thought of
Max as the sort that...

Hey, you might have
a point there, doc.

And Max might
have more character

and probity than you
give him credit for.

Could be.

Excuse me.

I'll get it.

Well, um,

what should Max do, doc?

Under the circumstances,

I would advise him to be
completely honest

and reveal everything.

You would, huh?

If she's half the woman
he thinks she is,

she'll understand
and forgive him.

After all, the man's the same.

Only the names have been changed

to protect the guilty.

But he must do it right away.

Yeah.

If she finds out by herself,
Max gets the ax.

All right. Thanks.

I'll, uh, tell Max.

Goodbye, doc.

Goodbye, Max.

How'd you know?

Why, I'm hungover,
not unconscious.

But I didn't say one
word that you could--

You're forgetting last night.

I didn't say
anything last night that--

But she did.

The minute I picked her up,

I knew instantly
something new had been added.

To begin with,
she forgot to say,

"happy birthday."

And all she could talk about

was this unusual
new student of hers.

Every time I
changed the subject,

she came right back to it.
She did?

Constantly,
Mr. Gallagher, or Minnick,

or Martin,
or whatever your name is.

Well, my real name's Gannon.

Oh!

Gannon of the insulting letter?

You know about that, too?

She showed it to me
the moment she received it.

As a matter of fact, I told her

what to say
to the class in reply.

So you were the one.

Say, you said some
pretty rotten things about me.

No, she didn't use my reply,
because I agreed with you.

To me, journalism

is, uh, like a hangover.

You can read about it for years

but until you've
actually experienced it,

you have no conception
of what it's really like.

Yeah. Yeah,
that's what I felt,

but I've got to admit

I'm beginning to
think there's something

to this education bit too.

The rest of your letter,
however, I found

filled with puerility,
guilt, and insecurity,

revealing you,
psychologically speaking,

a complete mess.

Now wait a minute.

No. Now, it's useless
for you to hit me.

I'm going to die anyway.

Just leave me alone
and let me expire in peace.

Goodbye,
and don't slam the door.

Oh, uh, another thing.

Don't feel too badly
about passing out last night.

I gave that waiter five bucks
to spike your drinks.

Oh! Now I understand.

I only gave him
$2 to spike yours.

Jim, the colonel's
been calling you.

All right.

Jim, the colonel
wants to see you.

All right.

Jim, the colonel's
been calling you.

I know.

Barney!

Gladys, get me--

Yeah, I know he wants me.

Get me this call first.

Miss Erica Stone,
Plaza 3-5-5-9-8.

Yeah, that's right.

Call the barber
and tell him I'll be down

in an hour for a haircut
and a manicure, all right.

Good morning, Mr. Gannon.

Get this hat cleaned and blocked
and this thing pressed.

What's the matter?

Can't a guy get
cleaned up once a year?

I've got some cologne
in my locker.

Yeah?

Oh, she's not?

Gladys, do me a favor.
Call the florist

and have him
send her some roses.

He knows the address.
And put on the card:

"Pick you up at 6:30."
Sign it "Jim." Yeah.

Yeah, I'm going to see
the colonel right now.

Send him right in.

You better cancel
that luncheon engagement.

I don't think I can make it.

Colonel.

Well, glad you came right in,
Jim.

I've someone here
I want you to meet.

Her father was
an old friend of mine.

Erica, this is Jim Gannon,

the best city editor
in the business, for my money.

Jim, this is Miss Stone.
She teaches journalism,

which makes us all related
in a way, doesn't it?

Miss Stone has come
to ask a favor of me.

She's quite excited
about a student of hers,

A fellow called, uh...
What was that name again?

Gallagher.

Ah, yes.

It seems this Gallagher
is quite exceptional.

Miss Stone brought along
some things he wrote.

Class work, you know.

Very good, she says.
I'll read them tonight.

Now then, it seems to be
generally known

that you have some, uh,

well, shall we say resistance
to college-trained personnel.

Miss Stone is
quite aware of that.

But she feels this
particular fellow

is so outstanding,

he may be just the one
to change your attitude.

Colonel, I...

I wonder if I could talk to
Miss Stone for a few minutes?

Why, of course.

I mean alone.

I'd like to correct

any misconceptions
she might have.

Huh, that's a very good idea.

I'll bring her in
to you in a few minutes.

We have a bit more catching up
to do before I give her up.

But, colonel, I--

And thank you, Jim,
for your cooperation.

You know who I had
a letter from today?

John Baldwin.

He was an old friend
of your father's.

I remember when the three of us
went to Europe together.

That was in, oh, 1927.

Now look, Erica,
before you blow your top,

I just want to--

What's the matter?
Aren't you angry?

No, I'm not angry.

I just feel a little bruised,

as if I'd been kicked.

I'm sorry, Erica, I was going--

You don't have to explain,
Mr. Gannon.

I'm sure to you and the boys,

it was a very funny
practical joke.

You may have even
bet a few dollars

that you could make the
professor look like an idiot.

Well, you did.

Now why don't you go collect
your bets and leave me alone?

All right, I admit
it started out as a joke,

but that didn't last long.

Why do you think
I left your apartment

so suddenly last night?

Oh, I'm sure you had
a pang of conscience.

I doubt if anyone--

I didn't want to hurt you
any more than I already had.

What you did to me
is unimportant.

But what you did to the other
students is inexcusable.

They pay their tuition
which they can ill afford.

And after working hard
at other jobs all day long,

they study or they come to class

because they'll
sacrifice anything

to gain a little more knowledge.

Now, wait a minute--

Oh, I don't expect you
to understand, Mr. Gannon.

You're stupid,

and I think you're proud of it.

And this makes you cruel.

And now, may I leave,
if you're finished?

Are you finished now?

Roy, here's that Women's
Federation story.

What about this, Jim?

Oh, handle it any way you want.

I do something wrong?

No.

Look, yell at me, swear at me,

but please don't be
quiet and polite.

It's not like you, Jim.

Sorry. I'll watch myself.

They look like new, Mr. Gannon.

Hang them on the cabinet,
will you?

Yes, sir.

Well, it's wet and warm
anyway, Jim.

Mr. Gannon?
Yeah.

Ahem. Wanna look over
the obituaries I did?

Roy says they're not bad.

Whenever you get time.

Barney, sit down a minute.

Barney,

I've been thinking it over

and I've decided
that your mother is right.

I think you better go back
and finish school.

My mother's--

Now, let's put it this way.

You'll only be
quitting for a few years

and when you
want to come back--

I won't quit.

Then I'll have to fire you.

Just when I'm getting started?

You won't do any worse
with an education

and you might do a lot better.

What's wrong with this stuff?

Just tell me--
Just tell me one thing.

Well, for one thing,

how do you spell
"philanthropist"?

How'd you learn to
spell "philanthropist"?

The way I learned to
spell everything else.

One lousy letter at a time.

But the hard way
isn't always the best way.

I'm not sure it ever is.

You've always told me experience

is the most
important thing that--

Experience is the jockey.

Education is the horse.

You'll find out there are a lot
of other places in the world

beside this City Room.

You only spend
eight hours a day here.

If you're lucky,
you sleep eight.

That leaves eight hours more

to talk to other people
about other things.

And if all you know
is newspapers,

you'll always be
excusing yourself

and leaving the table.

I've spent one-third of my life

going to, staying in,

and coming back
from men's rooms.

And that's not
going to happen to you.

You're fired!

Oh.

Max got the ax.

I know, she called me.

I tried to tell her of your
belated surge of honesty,

but she wouldn't listen.

Am I interrupting you working?

No, merely trying to get
my mind off my head.

Been going through
some old copies

of her father's newspaper.

Research for the book
we're doing together.

Oh, now, don't worry.

She'll forgive you eventually.

No.

When they hang in your arms
like an old laundry bag,

it's all over, brother.

Nonsense.
First she'll go through

the typical feminine reaction
of indignation,

then indifference,
then indigestion,

then insomnia.

Then she'll accept
your apologies retroactively.

It's not what I've done.

It's what she's done to me.

Before, I had contempt

for eggheads like her and you.

Well, I was wrong.
Brother, was I wrong.

But at least I was
definitely wrong.

I was an obstinate, prejudiced,

inconsiderate,
coldhearted louse!

But at least I was something!

Now that I've learned
to respect your kind,

I'm just a big understanding
remorseful slob.

A complete zero.

Oh, that's too bad.

Maybe you'll get over it.

Would you like a drink?

I sure would.
Could I have a martini?

That's what I started on.

Well, you'll have to fix it.

Just the thought
makes my head thump.

You don't know what it's like
to live one way all your life,

confident that you're right,

and then suddenly find out
that you're all wrong.

I'm like a guy whose house
just burned down.

I've got no place to go.

When did this feeling
of inadequacy

first manifest itself?

I guess it's been creeping
up on me for years,

like ivy.

But it really started

when she got me
asking myself why.

Now I question everything I do.

And then this morning,
she called me stupid.

Well, two weeks ago,
I would have belted her.

But this morning
I say to myself:

"Why did she call me stupid?"

And the answer
came to me like that.

Because I am stupid.

Vermouth.
Uh...

Ice. I'm sorry, I used it all.

Join me?

Oh, no, no, thanks.

Nothing in gin
that can hurt you.

Best thing for your stomach.

Well, all right.

Let me make sure
the window's closed first.

Gannon,

I'm gonna have to
disagree with you.

You're not the least stupid.

But like so many self-made men,

you refuse to trust
your own intelligence.

Intelligence? Huh.

I know chimpanzees

who have a better
education than I have.

I had to cut cards
with the teacher

to see if I got through
the 8th grade.

You're confusing
education with schooling.

Education is the acquisition
of knowledge.

Which I have acquired
not one ounce of.

Now, don't be so sure.

If you care to look it up,
you'll find that

the definition of knowledge
is "knowing,

familiarity gained
by experience."

You'll also find that
wisdom is defined

as "the possession
of experience and knowledge."

Now, being experienced,

you therefore have education,
you have knowledge

and you have wisdom.
You're brilliant

and you make a good martini.

Look, look,

here, here's a press pass.

This proves
that I'm a newspaperman.

Here, here's a driver's license,

this proves I've passed
a driving test.

Now, you're a Ph.D.

That proves that
you're an educated man.

You know, I don't even have
a high school diploma.

I know, when you have one,
it doesn't mean anything,

you lose it, throw it away.

But if you've never had one

and you get to my age,

it's like the Nobel Prize.

Gannon,

I've sat on many

university accreditation
committees and I promise

before you leave tonight

you'll have a B.A.
In lillibral arts.

Lillibral?

There's oxygen seeping into
this room from some place.

Now.

The first thing we have to do

is get you through high school.

Oh, I think you're
ready for college.

Now, let's try this.

Ah, that's great.

No, no, no, no,

a bachelor of arts
leaves it buttoned.

When you get
your master's degree

then you can wear it open.
No, no, it's no use, doc.

You know, I may look like
a scholar on the outside,

but inside I'm still an idiot.

No.
An experienced idiot,

but I'm still an idiot.

Now, don't start
doubting yourself again.

I can't help it.

I've lost all my confidence.

I'm not even sure
I know anything

about the newspaper business
anymore.

Maybe she's right.

Maybe my kind did go out
with Prohibition.

Oh, that must be
one of my students.

Why don't you just
relax for a minute?

I'll get rid of him.

Hi.
Good evening.

Feeling better?

Oh, yeah, yeah, a little.

How do you feel?
I'm fine.

What I meant is

I'd be happy to make it
another night if you like.

It doesn't bother me, really...

It's fine.

I brought some of Dad's
original notes with me.

I thought it
might be interesting

in chapter four
to show the genesis

of some of the editorials,
you know?

And, um, trace them through
the first draft and a--

He's in the bedroom.

He'll be all right, I guess,
in a couple of weeks.

What's the matter with him?

Oh, utterly despondent,
remorseful.

Filled with contrition
and ideas of self-destruction.

But, Hugo--
Martini?

No, thank you.

But what surprises me
is the way you treated him.

The way I treated...?
What he did to me--

But you should have
asked yourself why he did it.

You've taken two years
of psychology from me,

you should have a little
understanding of these things.

What motivated
this deception of his?

A desire to humiliate
and hurt me, that's what--

Never. He has a deep affection
for you, Erica Stone,

but he is in rebellion
against what you represent.

Here's a man in
a responsible position,

who feels insecure and inferior

because he has
no formal education.

He meets a teacher,

the symbol of
academic achievement.

By deceiving, dominating,
and outwitting the teacher,

he experiences
the exhilarating feeling

of superiority.

His battered and cringing ego
emerges victorious.

No.

He's not to be held in contempt,

he's to be pitied.

I just never
thought of it in that way.

And you should have seen him
when he came here this evening.

All of his confidence,
his security completely gone.

A mere shadow of a man

doubting his very self.

You have taken this
once proud and forceful man

and made of him a weakling,

bewildered and floundering
in a sea of doubt.

Joel Barlow Stone.

I'm sorry, but you stink.

Now, when he comes out,
be warm and understanding.

Gannon!

Gannon!

Doc, I got my confidence back.

You know what did it for me?

Reading the Eureka Bulletin.

I'm suddenly sure of what
good journalism should be,

because this is one of the
lousiest papers I've ever seen.

What's the matter?
Your head again?

No, yours.

I'll bet he got a hold of one
of those copies that came out

while your father
was on his vacation.

Didn't you?

No.

And I'm not going to
try to back out of this one.

I'm sorry I hurt you again,

but at least this time it was
done with honesty.

Martini, anyone?

Please go on, Mr. Gannon.

I'm very interested in getting
your critical opinion

of a newspaper
like the Bulletin.

Well,

to begin with,
it isn't even a newspaper.

It's a guy sitting
around a cracker-barrel,

talking and talking and talking.

Isn't it interesting that

the Pulitzer Prize committee
didn't agree with you?

He won the prize
for an editorial,

and it was a brilliant job.

But he should have stuck
to the editorial page

and let someone run
the paper who hated words.

Now, here's a world-shaking
story on page 1.

At least four columns,

all about whether those berries
Art Smith was selling yesterday

were blueberries
or huckleberries.

Look at this.
Published twice weekly,

circulation 2,500,

one page of advertising

with no other sheet
to give him competition.

That isn't a newspaper,
it's a hobby!

You know,

you may not believe it,
but I'm interested

in those kids you're teaching.

But in the name of Pulitzer,
tell them the truth!

Tell them this is a business,

a rough, tough,
fighting, clawing business.

You know, the Chronicle

has a circulation
of a half million.

Each copy sells for a dime

and costs at least
10 cents to print.

We stay alive by advertising,

the same as every
other paper in this town

and we battle each other for it.

I wind up with only
49 columns for news

and I won't waste four of them

on whether those berries Art
Smith was selling yesterday

were blueberries
or huckleberries.

You're confusing
journalism with loyalty

and you're giving this paper
a sentimental reverence

it doesn't deserve.

Do me a favor.
Tear off the title

and forget your father wrote it.

Put in eight pages
of advertising

and then take an honest
blue pencil to the rest

and see what you come up with.

If it's still the same paper,

then you better put
this back on his desk.

You gave it to the wrong fellow.

Leave it go, maybe
the whole joint will burn.

Don't pour the coffee on it,
it'll explode.

Hey, Jim, you got
somebody to cover a fire?

I got a fire of my own.

The colonel just sent for me.

Hot copy.

Let it burn for an hour,
it'll make a better story.

Maybe this will help.

Take it out and burn it.

Good morning, colonel.

Oh, good morning, Jim.

You remember Miss Stone.

She's come back today
with an idea

which strikes me as
being an excellent one.

She thought that if we...

Oh, but you go ahead, Erica.

After all, it's your idea.

Thank you, colonel. Uh--

Uh, Mr. Gannon, I've been
doing a lot of thinking

and, uh, well,

when one teaches
the same courses

semester after semester,

uh, one is apt to repeat
certain examples

and certain concepts.

Yes, one is apt to.

And, uh, with
the constant repetition,

if one is--
Is not careful,

there is a danger
of there becoming

dogmatic principles.

Yes, you're quite right.

Not only in teaching, my dear,

but if we're not careful
we get into ruts, too.

Only this morning,
at the staff meeting,

Jim made the point that

although we have to
keep the Chronicle

vital and exciting
and commercial,

perhaps we ought
to do a little more

interpretation of the news,

give our readers
a little more to think about.

Isn't that right, Jim?

But pardon me
for interrupting you, dear.

Oh, that's perfectly
all right, colonel.

Uh, Mr. Gannon,
I was wondering

if I could prevail upon you

to give a series of
guest lectures to my classes?

You know, Jim,
the practical touch

added to the academic approach?

The wedding of the old pros
and the eggheads.

Weren't those
your words, my dear?

Heh. Exactly, colonel.

Or perhaps we could debate
certain aspects of journalism.

The students might
find it very stimulating.

They sure might.

Well, I'll let you two
work it out.

Goodbye, my dear,

and please feel free
to call on me at any time.

Oh, goodbye, colonel,
and thank you very much.

Not at all.
Oh, Jim,

last night I read this
think piece, you know,

the one that student wrote.

It's long, but I think
it's newsworthy.

Bye-bye, colonel.
Goodbye.

Long, huh?

I didn't write it.
One of the staff did.

To me, anything over
500 words is a novel.

When do we start this clambake?

Well, I have a class tonight.

Of course you understand
that the university

can't pay you anything.

But since you'll be giving
a series of lectures,

the dean would like to
give you faculty status.

Me, on a faculty?

Oh, no, no, I don't think...
Well, no...

No, that's a little ridiculous.
I wouldn't know...

We'll talk it over at lunch.
All right.

I'll get my coat and hat.

Hiya, Jim.

Oh, hello, Bob.

Mr. Gannon?
Yeah.

Oh, hello, Mrs. Kovac.

I just came by to pick up
Barney's things.

Sure.

I was hoping I'd bump into you
so I could thank you.

For what?

For sending Barney
back to school, for what.

Is he really going?

Well, you know,
he's making lots of noises

about getting another job,

and he's sore as a boil at you.

But I know him, he'll go back.

You know why?

Because you said so.

Tell him the day after
he graduates,

I want him to report back.

What time?

Nine o'clock, and tell him
not to be late.

You know something?
I like you.

I don't care what
anybody says, I like you.

Goodbye, Mr. Gannon.

Goodbye, Mrs. Kovac.

Informal at times, and a little
brutal and hard to accept,

but it's been an education.

I didn't know you two
knew each other.

Oh, yes, I took a class

from Miss Stone
a couple of years ago.

Too bad you didn't
learn anything.

Come here.

Uh, look, Miller,
we sell advertising

at 25 bucks an inch.

The space you use we can't sell.

Take this story,
and save us about $300.

And don't just make
the lead a rehash.

Recent evidence discloses
that the kid had accomplices.

Oh, no. Salas was alone
when he killed the old man.

He had four partners
always with him.

Poverty, prejudice,
bitterness, and despair.

Salas pulled the trigger
but they loaded the gun.

Light?
Oh, thanks.

Well, what are you waiting for?

You want me to write it for you?

Ready?

Who's the dame?

That's Joel Barlow Stone's
daughter.

That's a combination for you.

What have they got in common?

If I know Jim,
he'll find something.