All language subtitles for Road To Avonlea Malcolm and the Baby (Season 1, Episode 8)

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Original subtitles

you

I can't wait to see Andrew have a good old Malcolm.

Imagine a honeymoon in Boston, isn't that so romantic?

That little distance would be asked me, I don't think I could have stayed at the White South.

And none of it would have happened without a city.

Malcolm McKeown would still be in the UConn.

And that dab again would still be an old maid.

There are worse things to be in Felicity Cake.

In any case, your children have no business poking your noses into adults and fairs.

We were not poking our noses.

He was simply making sure that Cupid's Arrow made its mark.

What do you think she is, Queen of England?

Aunt Hadia, I thought we were going into the general store.

Well, Rachel Lynn's in there.

I'll do my business in the post office first.

I can't abide that woman, never could.

I've now few two.

Don't I stay, you're welcome with Malcolm and Abigail.

Be back here in one hour, no longer. I'll need you to help me carry these supplies.

We promise.

Two lovebirds wouldn't want to be disturbed for long anyhow.

Rachel!

F

I'm in here, Mr. Malcolm McEwen.

Sit yourself, then. I have something to show you.

You have been to the Simpson auction, haven't you?

Well, I did have a wee look, but it's a good thing I did.

Malcolm, how could you go to another auction?

We don't need another thing.

You must have bought every knick-knack brickabrack in the city of Boston.

There isn't a square inch of space left in my little house.

I beg you, Barton, Mrs. McEwen.

All a little house.

I beg you, Barton, Mrs. McEwen. All a little house.

He's had beauty, isn't it, Abby?

Don't you think?

We don't need a cradle, Malcolm.

Not just at this very moment, but you never know, dear.

Come, we discussed this. I told you how I felt.

I don't want to hear any more of that nonsense about being too old, Abadley.

I look at you, sir, too old indeed.

You look like a girl. I've 20 that day, I'm married you.

And I've grown a few gray hairs, learning to live with the lights of you, Malcolm McEwen.

And it is not nonsense. It is plain fact.

Oh, please, Malcolm, let's not discuss it anymore.

I could never in all of my life see myself having a baby. I'm past that.

And besides, I don't think I'm the mother in kind.

You didn't think you were the mother in kind, either.

Well, maybe I'm not. Maybe we shouldn't have gotten married in the first place.

I don't seem to be making you very happy.

That's not true. I am happy. I love you.

You won't be happy until we have a child.

Look at you going around to auctions buying cradles, bringing the subject up every waking moment.

Malcolm, please, I can't.

I don't want to discuss it anymore.

All right, we won.

Now, take the cradle out and put it in the shed.

What I am so here.

Tell me to upset you.

All right.

It doesn't seem to take much these days.

No!

No!

You might be setting for a spell I hope, Elvira.

It's dreadful quiet at home.

Not at all, Rachel. I'm getting quite used to these little visits.

When's Marilla'd you back, Rachel?

Oh, Anne won't let her go for a few weeks. He had a dare say, Mrs. Potts.

The new baby's jaundiced.

It was obvious from her letter that Marilla is exhausted.

She should know better than to look after a baby at her age.

I hope I can finish this sweater in time to send it with one of your letters, Rachel.

Well, there's no rush, Mrs. Potts. I won't be sending one until next week.

Not enough news to fill many letters.

It says here that another octogonarian has just died.

What is an octogonarian?

Whatever they are, they must be awfully sickly creatures for you never hear tell of them, but they're dead.

Good Lord, it's Hattie King.

Don't let on that I'm here.

Afternoon, Hattie. What can I do for you?

Oh, I've a list as long as my arm had lost, and Sarah's suddenly developed an appetite.

She's eating me out of house and home a late.

Hattie King is so tight, the poor child probably doesn't get half of what she needs to grow on.

Those are nice.

Oh, nice, very nice.

These today's...

Fresh this morning?

I'll be with you in a minute, Mr. Theodore Simkin, barrister and solicitor.

Oh, what a pleasure to see you again, Miss King.

Sorry, I can't say the same, Mr. Simkin. Excuse me.

If you don't mind, I'll wait on Miss King here, and I'll get back to you.

Mr. Lawson, I am here on important business. I represent the estate of the late Robert and Jane Morris.

I believe the deceased had an outstanding account with your establishment.

You don't mean Jane Morris. The school teacher from Markdale's dead.

I can hardly believe it.

But how? When did this happen?

Last week. They passed on within a day of each other.

Scarlet Fever saw him, told.

Oh, how dreadful.

Wasn't there a baby?

Yes, yes there was. Three months old, Robert Morris Jr.

Now, according to my calculations, they owed you $54.26, Mr. Lawson.

$54.26. We entered.

Well, I don't usually let it run that high, but they seem such a nice young couple.

It's a great trouble to myself. I have a good portion of the contents of their house outside.

Now, I'm sure that their collected value will be more than enough to pay off their debt.

But what is being done about the baby, Mr. Simkin? What baby?

The baby. Well, it's in a neighbor's charge at present, but I am taking it to the orphanage on my return to Charlotte Town tomorrow.

Orphanage? Oh, the poor thing.

Let me tell you, Mr. Simkin, Jane Morris was put under my supervision as a student teacher.

When she first arrived on this island four years ago and we became very close.

I knew for a fact she'd never want her baby putting the happens of a likes of you or any orphanage.

I'll find someone to take care of that baby.

You will find someone to take care of it.

No relative of mine is going to be looked after by you, Eddie King. That child is my flesh and blood.

What? That certainly is news to me, Rachel.

Isn't this just like you, Rachel Lind.

Scrocking around like a fox near a hen house.

Robert Morris was my late husband, Thomas's cousin's nephew.

Oh, my. Well, that certainly is a close family connection, I must say.

In that case, Mrs. Lind. Mrs. Rachel Lind.

You had no interest in that baby when the Morris's were alive.

So, why should you have any say what happens to it now?

Finding a home for that baby is my duty and I will not shirk it.

I wouldn't want poor Thomas to think I'd let down his relations.

I'm sure poor Thomas is beyond caring now.

That baby needs a home. Look no further. It's my duty. I shall take it.

I'm afraid in the eyes of the law it's not that simple, ladies.

Teddy, you can't mean that.

Don't interrupt in grown-up affairs. Go on outside.

Over my dead body. I'll keep it myself before I let you have it, Eddie King.

You're just plain jealous. That's what you are, Rachel Lind.

Jealous? Of you? For what possible reason?

You've always had an insatiable desire to have what is mine.

I don't know what you're talking about, Eddie.

Oh, yes you do. Rachel Lind.

You stole Romney Penn Hallows, heart away from me in grade seven,

simply because you couldn't stand the idea that I had something that you could, my goodness, ladies.

Let's not drag that old chestnut out again.

Jane Morris is certainly more my friend than your relative, that's for sure.

And I won't have you stealing her baby away from me.

No. This time, you can't have what is rightfully mine.

Rightfully yours.

Rachel, Cathy, let's all just sit down and have a nice cup of tea here.

You just stay out of this, Elvira.

Ladies, please.

You think you can get away with this, Rachel Lind.

You are mighty mistaken.

Felicity, Sarah, outside with her.

I'd like to see you stop me, Eddie King.

Sarah, I tell you, we'll see you.

There is no dispute to settle, Mr. Simkin.

This woman's far too old. We even consider raising a child.

Too old? How dare you?

Eddie King, you don't know two pins about raising children.

I am a teacher, Rachel.

Them that can have, and them that can't teach.

I'd be a better mother to that child than you would Rachel Lind.

If I just may get her checked here.

Oh, to be quiet, you young windbag.

What was that?

Antady calling the lawyer a windbag?

No.

Pat?

Listen, do you hear it?

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