State Fair Page #2

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Something to carry my pickles in.

Know just what you want, Ma.

I'll get it for you right away.

"Stir in apples and molasses,

spices, lemons..."

"Two parts good brandy."

No, I won't!

- Eph, where's Wayne?

- Wayne? He's back there in the barn.

Thank you, mister.

And now, I think I'll have a

try at that fancy brass clock.

Yes, that one.

- There ya are.

- Wayne?

There's a nice string of pearls.

I think I'll have a go at them.

- Oh, I know they're fakes, but...

- Wayne!

What are you doing?

- How long you been there?

- Just a little while.

Why didn't you say somethin'

instead of just standing there?

Who were you talking to?

And does Mother know you have

her embroidery hoops out here?

Look, just leave me alone, will ya?

And stop prying in other people's affairs.

Speaking of affairs,

Eleanor's on the phone.

Eleanor? Well, Christmas!

Why didn't you tell me?

Eleanor's on the phone.

Hello, Eleanor? Hi, honey. What'd the

doctor say about your mother? Can you go?

Well, I don't know

what to do, Wayne.

The doctor said she's

a little better, but...

Oh, but, Eleanor, you've got to go!

I've made a lot

of plans for us. What?

I keep wishing

I were somewhere else

Walking down a strange, new street

Hearing words

that I have never heard

From a man

I've yet to meet

He would be a kind

of handsome combination

Of Ronald Colman Charles Boyer

And Bing

Margy. My dear, little Margy.

I'd make the world a ruby for

your little finger and say,

"I love you.

I love you. I love you."

Ah, Margy. You are beautiful.

You are so very beautiful.

And we feel so gay

In a melancholy way

That it might as well be spring

Margy!

- Hello, Margy.

- Hello, Harry.

No, I'm not mad.

I'm just disappointed.

Well, I'll see you when I get back.

Good-bye.

Gee, I wish I was going to

the fair with you tonight.

I'd rather be doing that

than anything I know.

- Oh, would you, Harry?

- Well, sure.

- Only I can't neglect my cows.

- Oh. Of course not.

- Say, I saw something today.

- What?

The sweetest bit of farmland

this side of Davenport.

I was thinking of puttin' a

bid in on it if you like it.

- If I like it?

- Well, sure.

You know I haven't made a plan since I was

12 years old that didn't include you.

- Got a house on it?

- Yeah, but it's too old.

- We'd have to build a new one.

- Oh, I like old houses.

It wouldn't fit in

with our kind of farm.

You know, I plan to do everything my

old man won't let me do on his place.

Scientific irrigation, electric

milking, separate hen roosts.

No horses. All tractor power.

- You see what I mean? Everything modern.

- But the house you live in...

It's gotta be the same. No

clapboard and shingle business.

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