The Trouble with Harry

Okay, I know how to handle your type!

Well, old faithful, that's your shooting for the day.

If we haven't rung up at least two rabbits,

we deserve to go home empty-handed.

Yeah. Still, blessed are they who expect nothing

for they shall not be disappointed.

Hmm.

Fewer things in life give a man more pleasure than hunting.

It satisfies his primitive nature.

Striding through the woods, picking up his kill.

Well, come on, old faithful.

There's plump rabbits waiting for the frying pan.

If this can had four legs and a tail, we'd be eating it tonight.

Clean through the heart.

For rice cake, I've done him in.

A harmless potshot at a rabbit and I'm a murderer, a killer.

Mother always said I'd come to a bad end.

What in Hades were you doing here anyway?

I can't say that I've seen you around here before.

If you're going to get yourself shot, do it where you're known.

"Mr. Harry Worp, 87 Maple Avenue, Boston, Massachusetts."

Well, Worp, you're a long way from home.

By the looks of it, you won't get back for Christmas.

We're going to have a cold, hard winter.

You might keep here a long time, an awful long time.

Too long for me, Harry.

Yes.

Captain Wiles.

Yes, ma'am?

What seems to be the trouble, Captain?

Well, it's what you might call an unavoidable accident.

He's dead.

Yes.

I would say that he was. Of course, that's an unprofessional opinion.

Do you know him, Miss Gravely? No.

Doesn't live around here. Well, he died around here.

That's what counts now.

Embarrassing. What do you plan to do with him, Captain?

Miss Gravely,

without cutting the hem off truth's garment,

I'm going to hide him. Cover him up. Forget him.

Are you never going to inform the police, Captain?

No. Forget you saw me, Miss Gravely.

Chase it out of your mind, for heaven's sake. It was an accident.

He was poking around the clearing and I thought he was a rabbit or something.

It was a human error.

Please, don't.

Don't say anything to anybody, Miss Gravely.

Do as you think best, Captain.

I'm sure you must have met many similar situations

in your travels in foreign lands.

Yeah, I've seen much worse things.

I certainly won't say anything. Much worse things.

I remember when I was on the Orinoco.

We had a Turk, a great big Turk there running amok with a machete.

Captain, if I were going to hide an accident, I shouldn't delay.

You're right as rain, Miss Gravely.

Yes, you know something? I'm glad I met you today.

I feel better for telling somebody as warm, tender, understanding as yourself.

On the contrary, Captain, it...

I'm certainly glad if I helped you, Captain.

Perhaps you would care to come over for some blueberry muffins

and coffee later on.

High-bush blueberries.

This is certainly something of an interesting surprise.

And perhaps a touch of elderberry wine.

After all, we've been neighbors for nearly three years now

and we've never exchanged social calls.

You're right. It's high time I paid a call.

What time?

Oh, say, early this afternoon?

I'll be there with a clean shirt and a hungry face.

Do that.

You'd better be going along now.

You don't want to be an accessory after the fact.

You are a considerate man, Captain Wiles.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

We're almost there, Mommy.

Here he is, Mommy, here he is.

What did I tell you, Mommy? Don't touch it, Arnie.

There he is.

No, it can't be. Harry.

Harry. Thank Providence, the last of Harry.

Who's Providence, Mommy?

A very good friend. Don't you know who it is?

You said, "Harry." Can't you remember, Arnie?

Why don't he get up and do something?

He's asleep.

He's in a deep sleep. A deep, wonderful sleep.

How'd he hurt his head?

Putting it where it wasn't wanted would be my guess.

Will it get better?

Not if we're lucky.

Let's run home and I'll make you some lemonade.

Will lemonade put me in a wonderful, deep, deep sleep, Mommy?

No, Arnie, but it's better than no lemonade.

I don't understand that. Never mind.

Now you just forget you ever saw this man.

Is there a special way to forget?

Just think of something else.

I think I'll try not to see him tomorrow, Mommy.

That's a good boy, Arnie. Now let's run home and get that lemonade.

She won't care what I do with him.

Couldn't have had more people here if I'd sold tickets.

What's the big attraction, I wonder.

This could turn out to be the luckiest day of my life.

Might as well sit here till the rest of the world comes by

to pay their last respects.

Sooner or later one of them has to turn out to be the deputy sheriff.

Flaggin' the train that's goin' home

Flaggin' the train to Tuscaloosa

Never no more, no more to roam

Gotta get back to Tuscaloosa

Got a sweet gal who's on my mind

Gotta get back to Tuscaloosa

Back to the gal I left behind

Got no baggage

Just got my fare

But all I need, yes, indeed

Is waitin' for me there

Flaggin' the train to Tuscaloosa

Oh, how I love that choo-choo sound

Flaggin' the train to Tuscaloosa

Flaggin' the train that's homeward bound

Gotta get back to Tuscaloosa

Got a sweet gal who's on my mind

Gotta get back to Tuscaloosa

Back to the gal I left behind

Got no baggage

Just got my fare

But all I need, yes, indeed

Is waitin' for me there

Hello, Mr. Marlow.

Wiggy, you haven't sold a painting.

All my pictures in the same place.

So few cars. They don't seem to...

Guess the cider takes their attention. Cider?

Cider, indeed. Throw it away! Drink it!

No, I hate cider.

Not a picture sold.

I'm sorry, Mr. Marlow. Let's get a look at your new one. Hold it up.

What good would it do to show it to you? You don't deserve to see it.

How am I going to eat?

Mr. Wiggs always used to thump his stomach when he got mad.

He busted something inside once.

You think we'd do any better on Fifth Avenue?

If there's more people there.

Oh, lots of people. Hundreds and thousands and billions of people.

Well, might be better then.

But what sort of people, Wiggy? What breed?

I'll tell you. They're little people.

Little people with hats on.

How are your cigarettes?

I'll buy the other half tomorrow.

What does your son do with those old cars he always works on?

He sells them. Mechanical antiques.

Doesn't make much, but he needs the money.

Doesn't he get paid for being deputy sheriff?

Piecework. Gets paid by the arrest, I think.

Oh. Mr. Marlow, it's wonderful.

I've been in a tortured mood lately.

What is it?

Good old Wiggy, my sternest critic.

I don't understand your work. I think it's beautiful.

So does Mrs. Rogers.

Oh! You talk about me?

She's the pretty woman with the little boy, isn't she?

Mmm-hmm.

I only brought up your name once when we were talking about strange people.

Huh?

That is, strangers. People she hadn't met yet.

And what does the pretty little thing say about me?

Nothin'.

I think we better discuss business. Now, my shopping list.

I'll go in and start puttin' it up.

Say, Wiggy, how do you spell Tuscaloosa?

Sam?

Hi, Calvin.

You hear any shootin' a while back? Nope.

Well, I did, and there shouldn't be any shootin' around here.

Why? It's posted land, that's why.

Why's that? 'Cause I posted it.

What do you got against people doing a little shooting now and then?

Let off a little steam.

Bullets and guns are dangerous. They kill things.

No one around here could hit a freight car with a cannon.

I guess you're right, Sam.

All the same the law's the law.

And I got a good mind to scout around, find out who's doin' the shootin'

and level a little fine.

And pick up a little piecework?

If I can do anything to make it any harder for you, let me know.

How do you want your bacon, Mr. Marlow?

What were you saying? I asked how you want your bacon.

Sliced.

Where's Calvin?

Off somewheres unimportant.

What a wonderful day.

So was yesterday, but you didn't say anything to me about it.

What you want Calvin for?