Summer Stock Page #2

farm isn't womars work.

Why don't you put the

burden where it belongs?

- But Mr...

- I know how you feel about your farm.

Why shouldn't I? Why, my forefathers

got the second land grant in this area.

Just one year after your people.

Why, our folks built this part of

the country with their bare hands.

That's why I've always dreamed of you

and Orville. The Falburys, the Wingaits.

Carrying on our heritage.

- I understand...

- You know how Orville feels about you.

Why, he's been in love with you

ever since you both were that high.

And each year he's loved you more.

Havert you, Orv?

- I said you love Jane.

- She knows that, Dad.

Mr. Wingait, Orville and I

can't get married just yet.

I mean, how would it look?

I owe the store so much.

The debt's cleared off the

books. A wedding present.

Oh, no, Mr. Wingait.

I can't accept that.

I mean, I think you're

terribly kind, but...

But no.

No, Orv and I will just have to wait

until I work my farm free of debt.

Yup, you're a Falbury, all right.

When would you like that tractor?

Oh, Mr. Wingait. Could

I get it right away?

- Go on and pick it out.

- Oh, well, thank you so much.

That's wonderful. Can you

drive the truck back tomorrow?

- Sure, Jane.

- All right. Goodbye.

- Goodbye, Mr. Wingait.

- Goodbye. See you at the dance.

Well, go on. Help her.

All right. Don't I ever

do anything right here?

No.

- Nose drops.

- Nose drops.

- Howdy, neighbor

- Howdy, neighbor

Happy harvest

May your 40 acres Soon

be fields of clover

Yes, indeed, and plant a wish

With every seed and by and by

The sun and rain will make an etching

Of a million little green

fingers Stretching to the sky

Howdy, neighbor

- Howdy, neighbor.

- Happy harvest

Get your rocking chairs

For all your cares are over

Clap your hands and lick your chops

Your bumper crops are on the climb

Hey, we're gonna roll in

plenty Spend a five or 10 or 20

And those happy harvest

bells Are gonna chime

Remember, neighbor When

you work for Mother Nature

You get paid by Father Time

Chicks are gonna cackle

And every burlap sack'll be

Full of taters and tobaccos

And dozens of different

Good and healthy greens

- Do tell.

- And if the weatherman won't upset us

Mister, you can bet us

There'll be lots of crispy

lettuce In your jeans

Corn and taters, you can bet us, Ripe

tomatoes, crispy lettuce in your jeans

Begin to live And find

out just what living means

- Howdy, neighbor

- Howdy, neighbor

- Happy harvest

- Happy harvest

May your 40 acres Soon

be fields of clover

- Yes, indeed

- Go on, puff your corncob pipes

And no more gripes And no more groans

No mortgages or loans

And you won't see a trace of worrying

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