Man on the Flying Trapeze Page #2

Oh, no, you won't, dear.

You stay here. I know | what I'll do. What?

I'll telephone | the Neighborhood Patrol.

What do I pay them | $5 a month for?

Oh! It's a different story when it | comes to your own flesh and blood.

Hmm.

Yeah. I think I'll go | and brush my teeth first.

No, you don't. You just brushed | your teeth. Sit down and telephone.

Oh, yes.

Let's see, it's...

Hello, hello. | Neighborhood Patrol?

Has... Oh. Oh, I beg your | pardon. Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm... I'm awfully... | I apologize.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Crudd. | I'm awfully sorry,

but we have burglars | singing in our cellar.

I thought this was the | Neighborhood Patrol, excuse me.

Who's that woman | you were talking to?

Huh? Oh, a Mrs. Crudd.

Why do you call her up | and tell her all your business

at this unearthly hour | of the morning?

I didn't call her up. I called | up the... The Neighborhood...

I tried to get the Neighborhood | Patrol and I got her on the phone.

Then why don't you | call the Neighborhood Patrol

and tell them there are | burglars singing in our cellar?

I'm looking for the number.

Here it is. Here. | There, it's simple enough.

Hello?

Hello. Is this | the Neighborhood Patrol?

Well, where were you? | I called the wrong...

Listen, come over. We have | burglars singing in our cellar.

Burglars singing | in the cellar?

Come over right away, | will you? Thanks.

All right, all right. That's | simple. That's all done.

Did you tell them who was | calling, and where to come to?

Who? What?

Gosh, I forgot that.

People make me sick.

Hey, listen, that was | Ambrose Wolfinger talking.

Yeah, come over right away.

There are burglars singing | in the cellar. Good. Okay.

Don't move!

A gildersleeve.

A cop.

What you drinking there?

Applejack.

There are three of them | singing now.

Yeah, they're singing | the same tune, too.

I... I feel as if | I'm getting chill!

Oh, would you like | a little drink of applejack?

Ambrose Wolfinger.

Well, I thought | I might join her.

You know perfectly well | my mother detests alcohol.

Oh, yes, that's right.

When I was a young and a pretty | girl, I always vowed to my parents

that lips that touch liquor, | would never touch mine.

Oh, yeah. | Pretty sentiment, very nice.

Yeah, that was fine of you | to say that. That's nice.

That's all right, dear. Don't worry. | I'm not even going into the cellar.

I'll talk to them | from the outside.

I'll wait up for you.

All right, dear. I don't crave an | encounter with dangerous criminals.

You go right in. Go right | in and go to bed, dear. Yeah.

All right, Dad. | All right. Goodbye, dear.

Oh, drat.

Drat.

Everything's okay, Mr. | Wolfinger. I got them handcuffed.

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