Vote for Huggett

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Oh, it's you. I suppose you'd better come in.

Thanks. (Whistles)

Sssh!

- What's up?

- (Whispers) Dad. He's writing to the paper.

(Whispers) Well, come on.

- (Whispers) Who is it?

- Peter.

- (Booming) Good evening, Mrs Huggett.

- Shhh!

- (Whispers) Hello, Peter. Aaargh!

(Clattering)

- He's writing to the paper.

- You mean he's trying to.

I can't hear myself think, with all this whispering.

Sorry, Mr Huggett. I'll go and wait in the hall.

Oh, that's all right. You come back here.

Come and sit down. I'm not going to bite you.

You might be able to help.

I don't know much about letter-writing.

All I want is a quotation.

Something about a garden.

- Garden?

- Yes.

It's quite a well-known one,

but I can't quite remember how it goes.

How about:

"A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot!"

Eh?

"A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot!"

What do you mean, "God wot"?

Is that how they teach you to talk at school?

Well, it's not her fault. She didn't write it.

- Well, who did, then?

- It's famous. Everyone knows that.

Well, I don't, for one.

Well, I think it's a beautiful line.

"A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot!"

Well, I think it's potty.

It's not the one I want, anyway.

My one goes,

"Ta-ra-rum, ta-ra-rum in a garden

than anywhere else on earth. "

Sounds familiar.

"Ta-ra-rum, ta-ra-rum in a garden... "

"Ta-ra-rum, ta-ra-rum... "

(Whispering)

- Erm... is Susan ready, then?

- In a minute, dear.

I've got it. "You can grow better flowers

in a garden than anywhere else on earth. "

- That's it.

- Write it down.

- "You can grow... "

- Better flowers.

- ".. better flowers... "

- No, it's not right.

You're darn right, it isn't.

There's something queer about it.

- Susan will be down in a minute.

- Good.

What exactly do you want this quotation for?

My letter to The Advertiser.

That quotation would sort of round it off.

But if we can't find it, it can go without.

I still think you should use the "lovesome" one.

Well, I don't, see?

A nice fathead I'd look, writing stuff like that.

Well, anyway, you listen to this, Peter.

See what you think.

(Coughs)

"To the editor of The Advertiser. Dear Sir... "

(Coughs)

"In view of the discussion

proceeding in the council,

as to the proposed war memorial... "

- Hello, Peter!

- Sssh. He's reading.

- Oh, sorry.

- I was just...

- Can't you wait till I've read this?

- We'll be late for the film. It's Stewart Grainger.

- What's Stewart Grainger got that I haven't?

- Well...

Don't tell him. Just listen.

Where was I?

"In view of the discussion

proceeding in the council,

as to the nature of the proposed war memorial,

may I suggest that it should take the form

of a pleasure garden and lido?

This would not only beautify

the river frontage of the borough,

but would also provide a centre

where our children could enjoy themselves

in healthy surroundings,

instead of frowsting in cinemas all the time.

For the older folk, a pleasure garden

would be a pleasant place of resort... "

- Of or to?

- Of.

".. of resort, where they could take their ease

amid beautiful Mother Nature.

I have the honour to remain yours faithfully,

J Huggett. "

I think it's a splendid idea, Mr Huggett.

I'm surprised nobody's thought of it before.

I think it's lovely, Joe. So artistic.

Now we can go to the pictures. Coming, Peter?

Yes. I'm sorry I couldn't remember the quotation.

Oh, that's all right. You enjoy yourselves.

ALL:
Good night.

Pet, I've got a snooker game with Bill Adams.

You copy that out neat and get it in the post.

See? I want to get it in this week's issue.

What, all that? I'll get writer's cramp.

Oh, all right.

I say, John,

that letter about pig clubs has to come out.

What? The paper goes to bed in five minutes.

I know, but the chief's got a pig club himself.

Too bad.

Well, what have we got instead?

Here, Bill, give me the WPB.

No.

No. Not that one.

Ah. Here's something. I think this'll do.

It's from that chap Huggett.

He wants a lido for a war memorial.

Fine. Nobody cares about that. Bung it in.

- Is that The Advertiser?

- Yes. It's in!

- Then give it here.

- "Sir...

in view of the discussion now proceeding in

the council as to the nature of the war memorial,

may I suggest that you... "

"Turn to page four, column three. "

What's that? Here, hand it over.

Column three. Oh, yes.

".. that it should take the form

of a pleasure garden and lido. "

- Well, go on.

- Well, that's all.

Why, rubbish!

That's only the beginning.

There you are.

".. take the form of a pleasure garden and lido.

'A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot!'

Yours faithfully, J Huggett. "

Why, you little...! I'll skin that child.

- What for, dear?

- She's cut out the best bits in my letter.

Oh, she never.

She copied it all out. I saw her myself.

- I tell you...

- I bet they blue-pencilled it.

Short of space - you know.

The editor

didn't put in that lovesome-god-wottery.

ETHEL:
No, dear. That was me.

- You?

Well, you were so keen on a quotation,

and I thought it was so pretty.

And you know -

literary, if you know what I mean.

- Literary?

- Well, the editor must have thought so,

or he'd have cut that bit out with the rest.

I can't think of any other man in Strutham

who has his breakfast mucked up more than me.

I'd like to give that editor a piece of my mind.

- I'd like to give that editor a piece of my mind.

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