The Last Hurrah

Skeffington, Skeffington

Cast your vote For Skeffington

He's the man With a plan

The one for you and me

He's true blue He's for you

He's our favorite son

Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up Vote for Skeffington

Skeffington, Skeffington

Cast your vote For Skeffington

He's the man with a plan

The one for you and me

He's true blue He's for you

He's our favorite son

Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up Vote for Skeffington

Well, Winslow, is the lark on the wing this morning?

Not for the readers of Mr. Amos Force's morning news.

The paper seems to be in mourning.

Ah, what a pretty picture it makes.

Just think of all those red and angry faces

sputtering over their coffee cups.

The day ruined before it begins

is a thought to warm the cockles of an old man's heart.

Hmm.

No picture.

Good morning, Dan.

Good morning, sir.

Bye. Right. I'll be seeing ya.

- John! - Good morning, Ellen.

How are you? Himself is in there.

Hello, Ellen. Ellen.

Hello.

- Well, greetings, greetings. - Good morning, boss.

How are you?

There's the coffee. Helen!

I could do with a cup myself, Helen.

Ditto! Why, you're a changed man!

It's the hamburger. Like your very own, mayor.

Brand new!

Ditto, we certainly are look-alikes.

You ought to be careful. Somebody will shoot you someday.

Oh, Your Honor.

I hope so!

All of these? We should be getting a kickback

from Western Union.

I spoke to them about it last year. Negative.

Your signature, sir.

Oh, I'm afraid my signature

will never become as rare as Button Gwinnett.

Who's that?

Before your time, Ditto.

A colonial gentleman who apparently signed only one thing

in his life:

the Declaration of Independence.

And, as they say in show business, Ditto,

what could he ever do to top it?

Why don't you have a cup of coffee.

Thanks.

"My Dear Mrs. Lathrop." No, no, no.

"My Dear Lady," always "My Dear Lady."

Yes, sir.

"E. Myron Goldfarb. Dear Manny." That's right.

You might add to this

that I am looking forward to his boy's bar mitzvah.

Frank, you're not going to see all those people

out there today, are you?

Now, John, you wouldn't have me break with tradition, would you?

Remember the first day we took public office?

Frank Skeffington is available to every man and woman

in this state.

Thank you.

Well, uh, uh--

Let's have a look at those candidates.

Who've I got to beat?

As I see it,

there's only one: Frank Collins.

The rest are nebbishes.

Didn't I tell you about Collins?

He's agreed to sit this one out

if we support him next term for the senate.

Who is Willard Chase?

Oh, that's a laugh.

President of the Planned Parenthood Association.

And he wants to be mayor of this city?

An Arab would have a better chance

of being mayor of Tel Aviv.

Don't discount the possibility.

Remember the recent lord mayor of Dublin.

I see we still have

Charles J. Hennessey with us, as usual.

Nutty as a fruitcake and gettin' worse.

Now, that brings us to Kevin McCluskey.

Nothing? Nothing?

Oh, come on, come on, now.

You must know

something about him.

Boss.

Yes, Ditto?

I know a little bit about him,

not that there's much to know.

Married he is,

to one of the Russell girls:

Agnes Mary.

Four lovely children.

Three of them is female girls.

And the lad is studying to be an altar boy.

Very bright at school, he is.

Uh, McCluskey?

No!

The son, Gregory.

He went to the college, you know.

Not that place across the river,

but the regular college.

Later, to law school.

Uh, now, th-th-this is not the son you're talkin' about,

- this is McCluskey. - Yeah.

He later became a lawyer.

Since the war, that is.

And a very fine war record.

"Distinguished," as they say.

Oh, that so?

Oh, yes indeed.

Never missed a day at the Navy yard.

Nine to five.

You could set

your watch by him.

And neat! He got a promotion for it,

from ensign to second lieutenant.

I see him every Sunday at St. Malacky's.

He passes the plate on left center.

And always a smile on his face,

whether it's a coin or a dollar bill.

Not like that sourpuss Duffy passes

on right center.

I was mentionin' the same thing to him last Sunday,

when the car came up, and off he went.

Well, that seems to be the extent of our dossier

on McCluskey,

not that it's very much.

Shall I let them in now, sir?

By all means. Who's the first one?

Mrs. Rocco Santagata, age 46, widow,

owns small candy store on Atlas Road.

Her boy's in some school trouble.

She a registered voter? Yes, sir.

Well, let's not keep the lady waiting.

Yes, sir.

Mrs. Santagata.

Ah. Good morning, Mrs. Santagata.

And we will continue these

editorial attacks on the front page until further notice.

Yes, Mr. Force.

Two: No pictures of Skeffington will be permitted

in the paper for any reason whatever.

Three: I want an immediate investigation

of his income tax returns for the last 20 years.

You remember, that was done twice before, sir.

Four!

On Sunday, the Evening News will announce its support

of Kevin McCluskey for mayor.

It will say we believe he's the best qualified

of all the candidates opposing Skeffington.

The reasons why we believe this are--

Yes, sir?

The reasons will have to be found.

Yes, sir.

Five: On Monday, we'll begin the life story of Kevin McCluskey.

It'll be warm, appealing, inspirational.

Appealing, inspirational.

The man you assign to write it will make it so.

Caulfield!

You want to see me?

Yes, I do.

Caulfield, I had occasion to return to the paper

late last night.

The light in your office had been left on.

How do you explain that?

Well, I'd say the explanation was simple enough:

I simply neglected to turn it off.

I don't think there's any clause in my contract about that,

is there?

Because if there is, you know, I--

Oh, I didn't say that! I didn't say that at all.

Mr. Force...

let me ask you something.

Did you know Frank Skeffington was my uncle

when I came to work here?

No, Caulfield, I did not.

By the time I did find out,

your column, unfortunately, had caught on.

Personally, I never could understand why.

Oh, thank you very much.

That's something that's always puzzled me.

It may interest you to know

that ever since we began syndicating your column,

the paper's made a tidy little

profit on your services.

Mmm. I've known that for some time, sir.

That's why I always leave the light burning.

There anything else?

Yes, Caulfield.