Original subtitles

- Dennis, you're still in the way!

- Well, Jeepers, Mr. Wilson, where do you want me to stand?

- Well, you know the corner of Maple and Trent?

- But if I go to the other side of town I can't talk to you.

- Yeah, that's a brilliant deduction.

Now, oh, drat, the cord's caught on something.

- I'll check it for you, Mr. Wilson.

It's caught on a bush!

Now, it's OK!

You've got plenty of line.

[yelp]

- Great Scott!

[music playing]

- Now, children, one way in Which we

can learn about the peoples of the world

is through the all nation show, which

is being staged in a few weeks by the school.

Now, we want to make this a community project.

So I'd like you to ask your parents

and friends to participate.

They will wear costumes representing the nationality

from which they're descended.

Ito, do you think your mother would

like to represent the Japanese?

- Oh, yes, Miss Perkins, she'd love it.

- Fine.

Karen?

- My father came from Holland.

I'm sure he'd like to be in the show.

- On, that's fine, Karen.

Speak to your father.

The dutch costume is very picturesque.

- What'll I do?

My Dad's from Texas.

- I don't think we will have a shortage of Americans, Tommy.

- Dennis?

- Miss Perkins, who's that man wearing the skirt?

- He's a Scotsman, Dennis, wearing the traditional kilt.

- Well, Jeepers, if he wears a skirt like that,,

what does his wife wear?

- The women wear skirts too, Dennis.

- Boy, I'll ask my dad to wear that costume.

- Good!

I wondered if there was anyone of Scottish ancestry

in the class.

Incidentally, children, editor Krinkie of The Chronicle

is in charge of the show.

And he has announced that there will

be a grand prize for the nation that comes up

with the most original presentation.

- Hooray for Mr. Krinkie!

- Hooray for the grand prize!

- So, you see, Dennis I can't represent Scotland

because I'm not Scotch.

- Not even a little bit?

- I'm afraid not.

- But, believe me, it's just as well.

My bony knees wouldn't add a thing to the show.

- How about you, Mom?

- Well, I guess my kneed are all right.

But I'm a mixture of English, Welsh, and Danish.

- In your mother's case, it's a matter

of right knees, wrong country.

- Jeepers, Mom, you're English, Welsh, and Danish,

Dad's Irish, and French, and stuff.

What am I?

I must be just a mutt.

- Dennis, if finding a Scotsman is your project,

why don't you talk to Mr. Wilson?

- Mr. Wilson?

- Yes, Mr. Wilson once told me his grandmother

was from Scotland.

Oh, boy, I'll go see Mr. Wilson.

He sure is a swell friend of mine.

He even has his grandmother born in the right place!

Hey, Mr. Wilson!

Where you going?

- Well, if you must know, Dennis, I'm

going down to McTavish's Fix-It Shop

to get my clippers repaired.

- Mr, WIlson, are you Scotch?

- Well, my grandmother was a McFarland.

What about it?

- Oh, boy!

You're just the one to help me out on my school project.

- Dennis, I don't want to hear anything about school.

Living next door to you, I've already

received a liberal education.

Now, look, you go that way.

I'll go this way.

- But I've got to tell you about our all nations show.

- You can tell me about it later, Dennis.

- When later?

- Oh, much later, now goodbye.

- Goodbye, Mr. Wilson.

See you later!

- Right in the middle, Mr. Wilson don't you

understand you're supposed to clip

the hedge with this and not to cut the cord.

- Oh, I don't need any words of wisdom from you, McTavish.

Just tell me, can you fix it?

- Well, the price of a new cord is--

- New cord, I can't just splice this old one?

- It wouldn't hold, man?

Not with you tugging on it.

- Oh, I didn't a-- I didn't tug on it.

[chimes]

- Hi Mr. Wilson, Hi Mr. McTavish.

- Hello, laddie.

- Dennis, what's the idea of following me?

- You said we could talk about my school show later, Mr. Wilson.

And it's been 15 minutes.

- I meant much later, like next month.

Now, where were we?

- We were talking about the price of a new cord, $3.50.

- $3.50?

- Plus the labor.

- Now, wait a minute, McTavish.

- A minute's about all I can give you, Mr. Wilson.

My time's worth $4 an hour.

- McTavish, you're the most tight-fisted Scotsman I

ever-- oh, fiddle faddle!

Here, I'll fix it myself!

- Gosh, Mr. McTavish, I didn't know you were Scotch?

- What did you think I was, laddie, an Eskimo?

- Boy, you're just the man I'm looking for.

Geez, Miss Perkins gonna be glad you're a Scotchman.

- Scotsman, laddie, a man from Scotland is a Scotsman.

- Well, my job is to find a Scotchman.

- Scotsman, laddie.

- Oh, excuse me, Scotsman.

So would you be in our show and wear kilts, Mr. McTavish?

You'd make a swell Scotchman.

- Well, I'll do that, laddie, just for you.

- Gee, thanks Mr. McTavish.

- Martha, have you seen this afternoon's paper?

- No, dear, you just brought it in.

- Oh, well, wait until you read what

it says about the all nations show

that Dennis' school is putting on.

Why, it's a really big thing.

- Oh, they're going to take movies of it.

And The Mail will be there.

There will be prizes.

- The first prize will be a brand new automobile.

Oh, Martha, we could use a new car.

- There will be a lot of competition for that, dear.

- Well, George Wilson thrives on competition.

Oh, and see here.

Krinkie is producing the show.

And it says it will be the town's biggest

event of the year.

- Isn't that exciting?

- Now, why didn't Dennis tell me it

was going to be such an important affair?

I wouldn't have turned him down.

Martha, I'm going right over there

and tell Dennis I've reconsidered.

I'll represent Scotland.

- Oh, George, you'll be devastating in kilts.

- Yes, I will, won't I.

[singing in scottish accent]

- Gosh, Mr. Wilson, I don't know what to say.

- Oh, but you don't have to say anything, my boy.

I'm only too glad to do it.

- What about Mr. McTavish, son?

- McTavish?

- You see, Mr. Wilson, I already asked him to be the Scotchman.

- What?

- Well, when you turned Dennis down, Mr. Wilson,

he had no other choice.

- Dennis, how could you do that?

Why, you know when I say no, it doesn't mean no.

It means I want to think it over.

- Gosh, what am I going to do, Dad?

- Well, you've already asked Mr. McTavish, son.

- But Dennis asked me first.

Isn't that right, Dennis?

- Yeah, but--

- Maybe if you went down to Mr. McTavish

and explained that you asked Mr. Wilson first,

he might withdraw.

- That's a marvelous idea, Mitchell.

McTavish is a fair-minded man.

And just to make sure he doesn't pull anything sneaky,

I'll go along with Dennis.

Besides, I couldn't let you down, could I?

[music playing]

- Now, you go in there and be firm.

- Aren't you coming in to back me up?

- No, I'd better stay here.

If I go in there I'll just have another argument.

- Jeepers, between you and Mr. McTavish

I feel like the inside of a sandwich.

- Hi, Mr. McTavish.

- Oh, Dennis me boy.

How are you laddie?

I've just been reading in the paper about the school play.

It's going to be quite an affair.

- That's what I came to talk to you about.

- Oh, what's on your mind, lad?

- Would you feel bad if you didn't

get to represent Scotland?

- Well, let's say I'd be very disappointed.

- But you wouldn't be mad?

- Oh, no, only a fool gets mad.

- Jeepers, that's swell.

- What are you getting at, lad?

- Well, Mr. Wilson wants to represent Scotland.

- Wilson!

I might have known he'd be at the bottom of this.

So he wants to win that car too, eh?

Why, the conniving old goat!

- Now, Mr. McTavish, you said you wouldn't get mad!

- Who's mad?

What right does he got to stick his big nose in it?

- I'll tell you what right I have, priority rights.

Dennis asked me first.

- That's right, Mr. McTavish.

- But he asked me last.

And I accepted.

- That's right, Mr. Wilson.

- What makes you think you're qualified

to represent Scotland in this affair?

- On account of his grandmother was a Scotchman.

- That's right, my grandmother was a McFarland.

- Big deal, eh?

I say let the Scot most qualified do the honor.

- Well, that suits me.

Dennis can be the judge.

- Me? Jeepers!

- You'll have no difficulty finding who is the proper Scot.

Do you like ice cream?

- Sure!

- Come on, let's walk down to the drug store

and I'll be you a soda.

- Gee, thanks, Mr. McTavish!

- McTavish, that's dirty poo!

Ah, Duncan McFarland, Earl of Braymore.

Ha!

Wait until McTavish gets an earful of that, Martha!

Imagine that man, trying to bribe

Dennis with ice cream sodas.

Of all the underhanded sneaky tricks to curry

the boy's favor.

- Here are your cookies, dear.

- Oh, thank you, Martha, Dennis will love these.

- Well, is he going to live?

- I think so, just a good old-fashioned tummy

ache thanks to Mr. McTavish's sodas and Mr. Wilson's cookies.

- Jeepers, how could eating such good stuff

make you feel so bad?

- This should teach you a lesson, son.

You can't play one person against another.

- You're not being fair to either Mr. Wilson or to Mr. McTavish.

- I've been too fair, Mom.

That's what gave me this stomach ache.

- Well, you see, son, it's hard to make a choice when you've

got two close friends involved.

- Boy, I'll say.

- How would you like to have to tell Mr. Wilson that you

picked Mr. McTavish to do the show?

- I could never do that.

- Well, then, how would you like to have

to tell Mr. McTavish you've picked Mr. Wilson?

- I couldn't do that, either.

- I'll call Mr. Krinkie.

He's the one that should make the decision.

- You're right.

This is a job for Mr. Krinkie.

Boy, you know, I feel better already.

Worrying about that decision was making me old before my time.

- Go ahead, Krinkie, have another cookie.

Martha just baked them.

- George, you didn't call me over here just

to fill me up with cookies.

What's on your mind?

- Well, when I found out that you were

going to pick the one to represent Scotland

in the show, I-- well, I thought we should discuss it.

- What makes you think you're eligible?

You're no more Scotch than my Siamese cat.

- Oh, is that so?

Well, for you information, Krinkie,

I happen to be a direct descendant

of Duncan McFarland, Earl of Braymore.

- Oh, poo.

- Go ahead and poo.

But I'll have proof any day now by registered mail.

- You don't say?

- So, since you and I are old friends, I thought you might--

- Ask McTavish to withdraw so you'd have a better chance

to win the grand prize?

- Well, yes.

- Look, George, I'm not going to play favorites.

I'll judge between you and McTavish,

not only on your family credentials.

But also on the amount of showmanship you display.

Whether you've got blue blood or green blood,

I've got a show to put up.

- Well, I understand that.

And if it's showmanship you want,

I'll show you more showmanship than Barnum showed Bailey!

- That Mrs. Elkins!

Honestly, there must be 50,000 towns in this country

and she has to pick this one to live in.

- What did she do, dear?

- Oh, she came up behind me when I

was bent over picking these flowers and said,

good morning, Martha.

- Oh, George, That's a mistake that anyone might make.

- Do you have to wear you kilt around the house?

- Well, yes, dear, I want to get used to how it feels.

- How does it feel?

- Drafty, the point is, Martha, if I'm going to win that car,

I have to go at this thing whole hog.

[doorbell]

- Oh, that must be Campbell, my bagpipe player.

He's always on time!

Oh, Mr. Campbell! - Mr. Wilson.

- Mrs. Wilson.

- Hello, Mr. Campbell.

- Well, Campbell, this is our last day to practice.

Tomorrow's the judging.

It's either McTavish or me.

- Don't worry, Mr. Wilson, it's in the bag.

- Oh, did you get that Martha?

It's in the bag.

All right, Campbell, pipe me onto the patio.

And we'll get busy.

- Jeepers, that was a good one Tommy

[bagpipe music]

- What's that?

[bagpipe music]

- Gosh, is that what was making all that noise?

- Dennis, that wasn't noise.

That was music.

- Oh, Tommy and me thought it was Fremont

with his tail caught in the door.

- Yeah, the cannibals cooking somebody alive.

- Boys, Mr. Campbell here happens to be

one of the best bagpipe players in the country.

- Hi!

- Hey, Mr. Wilson, what are you doing

running around in your underwear?

- That's not underwear, Tommy.

That's Mr. Wilson's skirt.

Right Mr. Wilson?

- Kilts, Dennis, kilts.

Wearing kilts is part of my showmanship.

- Well, you sure are showing a lot.

- Excuse me, Mr. Wilson, may I use your phone.

- Oh, of course, Mr. Campbell.

I'll show you where it is.

Just follow me.

[bagpipe sounds]

- Jeepers!

It's alive!

- Try to play it.

- Maybe you blow into one of these.

- Uh oh!

- What happened?

- I lost my bubble gum, way down!

- You got a long finger, Tommy?

MR. WILSON (OFFSCREEN): I'm going out

to the patio, Campbell.

- Uh oh, they're coming back!

- All right now, Dennis, Tommy, run along.

Mr. Campbell and I have things to do.

- But Mr. Wilson, I think there's--

- Dennis, Dennis I said run along.

- But-- - Shoo!

Scat! Both of you.

[bagpipe sounds]

[pop]

- Great Scott!

Martha! Martha!

- All right, Campbell, right over there.

You folks down here.

Krinkie, you can sit right next to Martha.

- Thank you, George.

- George appreciates you giving your time

to come and judge this private little contest.

- Well, I want to be fair to both George and McTavish.

- I tried to be fair, and boy did I get sick.

- Dennis!

- Oh, Krinkie, have I got a surprise for you.

- Oh?

- Miss Scotland of the Miss Universe contest.

I asked her and she'll be part of my sketch.

You'll see her in just a minute. Now, how's that for showmanship?

- You've really put yourself out, George.

- All right now, let's get things started.

- Wait a minute!

Where's McTavish?

- Well, he'll come along if he's still interested.

But we can't hold up the proceedings

just because of him.

And now to start things off, I'd like

to sing a beloved Scottish ballad

that my ancestor, the Earl of Braymore,

learned at his mother's knee.

- Just a minute, George, did you get the letter showing

proof of your Scotch ancestry?

- Oh, no, Krinkie, but don't worry.

It'll be here.

And now, for the song. Campbell?

[bagpipe music]

- (SINGING) Maxwell sings praise our Bonnie,

where early forms the dew.

And forget that any Laurie give me a promise true.

Give me a promise true!

Which never God shall make.

And for Bonnie and--

[drum banging]

- Well, you could at least have waited your turn.

- Well, I thought the proceedings needed a wee bit livening up.

You know, showmanship?

- Showmanship, eh?

Well, showmanship happens to be my middle name.

You just back up, Mac, and I'll show you some real showmanship!

On with it!

[bagpipe music]

- Hoo hi!

[bagpipe music]

- Hoo hi!

[bagpipe music]

- Where's my partner, Miss Scotland?

[bagpipe music]

[applause]

- Bravo, Mr. Wilson!

- That was delightful!

- George, you may not even have a family tree for all I know.

But you've sold me.

That should be the highlight of our show!

- Oh, well, did you hear that, Martha?

I won.

- George, I'm so proud of you.

- Oh, boy, you're going to win that car, Mr. Wilson.

Can I have a ride in it?

- Well, if Mr. Krinkie wants to wrap up that car

and put my name on it?

- I'd rather meet Miss Scotland.

- Oh, yes, of course.

Miss Scotland, that is Miss Jones of the Miss Universe

contest, may I present Mr. Krinkie,

editor of The Chronicle.

- I'm glad to meet you, Miss Jones.

And I hope you'll be with us when we do our show.

- I intend to.

And I'll enjoy every minute of it.

- Good.

- Well, Wilson, that was a rare bit of showmanship,

I'm bound to admit.

- Well, thank you, McTavish.

- You're welcome.

- Oh, Mr. Wilson, I'm sorry to interrupt your little party.

But I rang the bell.

Nobody answered.

And I knew you'd been waiting for this registered letter.

- Thank you, O'Reilly. - Sign this right here.

- I'll sign for it later.

This is what I've been waiting for.

Folks, I want you all to hear this.

This is my family tree.

I want you to here it in case anyone doubts my right

to represent Scotland in the all nations show.

Dear Mr. Wilson, oh yes, you are undoubtedly

descended from Duncan McFarland, Earl of Braymore-- great Scott!

- What is it, dear?

However, Duncan McFarland was an impostor.

Oh, dear.

- Impostor?

He assumed the name McFarland and title

when he fled from Ireland to avoid

being jailed as a horse thief.

His real name was Aloysius O'Toole.

- I'm an Irishmen!

- Too bad, George.

- Congratulations, Angus.

I'll see you at rehearsal tomorrow.

And see if you can steal Miss Scotland.

- I'll give it a good try.

- Wait a minute!

If Mr. Wilson's Irish, why can't he represent Ireland?

- Say, Dennis, that's a brilliant idea!

- Can you girls do an Irish jig?

- Now, wait a minute, I'm the one who's

representing Ireland, eh, Mr. Krinkie?

- That's true, O Reilly.

- Well, now, why should you be chosen to represent Ireland?

Faith in me God, I've got more Irish in my little finger

than you have in your two flat feet!

- Is that so?

Well, let me tell you that there was

an O'Reilly before there was an Ireland!

- Is that so!

- Let's hear the pipes!

Girls, on with the dance!

[bagpipe music]

- Boy, this is more fun than the school show will ever be!

[music playing]