All language subtitles for The.Waltons.S03E11.The.Book.WEBRip.x264-ION10

In those gray and grinding
days of the Depression

we often found comfort
in the old familiar proverbs.

We knew that in unity
there was strength

that blood was thicker
than water

that to err was human
and to forgive divine.

Usually, we never examined
these truths too closely

but in the autumn of 1934

I discovered, through
pain and remorse

just how profoundly
true they were.

Hey! What on earth you got here?

-It's a boat.
-And it's all ours.

You know Mr. Carmichael,
the one that owns

that house on Rockfish River?

-Yeah.
-Well, it was his.

How much did he pay
to haul it away?

-Let's get Jason and John-Boy.
-And Mary Ellen.

We can unload it now.

Not now.
We'll unload it after supper.

And after the dishes are done
and the homework's finished.

-Oh, Daddy.
-Daddy's right.

There's nothing more could
possibly happen to this boat

that hasn't happened
to it before.

We'll fix it up
and sail on the pond.

And we're gonna give it a name.

Why don't we call it
le-de-France?

I think that name
has been taken, honey.

Might I suggest Cork?

Cork? Why call it Cork?

Cause cork is the floatingest
material known to man

and you're gonna
need all the help

you can possibly get
for this sorry mess.

Oh, Grandpa.

You children oughta
get a boat more often.

Erin, I'm not through yet. Now.

Can we work on the boat now?

-Do your homework?
-Yeah.

Pa, let's set some
sawhorses so they can work.

That's one way
to keep her afloat.

There's nothing
to fixing that boat.

Just put some bandages on it.

-Come on, John-Boy.
-In a minute.

What's the matter, college man?

No time for us kids
and our boat?

What are you smiling at?

Well, I was gonna
ask you what's wrong

but you'd say,
"Nothing, Mama, nothing."

So I'm not gonna ask.

Well, it's that
special writing class

I've been trying to get
into for a long time.

Is that it?
They won't accept you?

No, they did accept me.
That's the problem.

John-Boy, you've been talking
about that class for months.

Don't you wanna get in it?

I just don't think
I belong there.

Everyone else
in the class is a sophomore.

They've even got a senior
who's writing a novel in verse.

I'm the only freshman
in the entire class.

-It's a feather in your cap.
-That's true.

I just don't think
I'm gonna measure up to it.

Brooding about it won't help.
What you need is to keep busy.

I'm sure you'll find
something to do on that boat.

Okay. Okay.

Maybe if we get
it into shipshape

I can escape
in it before class tomorrow.

Miss Barstow.

-Mr. Tatlock.
-Here.

-Miss Webb.
-Here.

Mr. Carpenter.

And, of course,
our newcomer, Mr. Walton.

You weren't in the first class

so you missed my introductory
speech, Mr. Walton.

However, so as not to deprive
you, I'll repeat it.

In capsule form.

In a nutshell, I really
can't teach you how to write.

You're either a writer,
or you're not.

Let's tell Mr. Walton about
your projects. Mr. Tatlock.

I'm writing a novella in which
all the action is mental.

-Have you read Proust?
-Some.

Then you know what I'm going
for. It's very challenging.

It certainly is. Miss Barstow.

I'm doing a fantasy
about the end of civilization

in which a handful of people
are keeping knowledge alive

but at the end, you realize
it's about the fall of Rome.

In other words,
it's prophetic literature.

What are you working on, Walton?

-Short stories.
-On what themes?

Well, family life.

I'm not too sure but what
regionalism isn't dead.

Really, Miss Webb?
Has anyone told Thomas Wolfe?

-What approach are you taking?
-Pretty realistic, I think.

Well, Sinclair Lewis
did some good reportage

but these days,
I think you need a larger frame.

Exactly. You know, Mr. Walton

if you can do what Proust
did with the French bourgeoisie

You must have
sociopolitical overtones.

Or else, work is meaningless
in this day and age.

Well, I just...write
about my family

the way I see 'em, day-to-day
experiences and such.

Good enough, Mr. Walton.

You're doing what every
beginning writer should do.

Write about what you know.

That's all very well and good,
but maybe he should know more.

Thank you, Miss Webb.

Miss Barstow, why don't you
read for us from your new work?

"It seemed to Christina that
the sound of the train wheels

would stay inside her head
as long as she lived."

One, two, three.

-Pull!
-Pull!

-Pull!
-Pull!

-Erin, you're not pulling.
-I am pulling, Jason.

-Well, pull harder.
-Pull, Erin!

-Harder? I am, Jason.
-Okay, okay, okay.

-Didn't budge an inch.
-An inch is all it has to budge.

I got an idea. If we bend
two trees and tie them

put the boat in the middle
when we cut the trees, whammo!

-It'd be back together again.
-Oh no.

-I saw it in a movie.
-You made that up.

I think we should get Daddy.

No, we promised
we'd do it ourselves.

So let's do it again. Come on.

Pull as hard as you can.
Don't move it off the bench.

-Okay.
-Ready?

-Pull!
-Come on, Jason, go!

Pull!

-Just in time.
-For what?

I've had a tough day.

John-Boy, you're not the only
one going to school.

Yeah, I had a tough time.
Got a D in spelling.

You're trying
to close that seam?

Do I get to be captain
if I figure out how?

It's a deal.

Let me have the ends
of the rope, please.

Thank you.

Jim-Bob, I need....

Bring me that length of pipe
there, alright?

Okay.

Now....

It's working.

Ben.

Now you see the value of one
man with a little know-how.

You're a mechanical genius
and you're smart, too.

I don't know. We did get
him to do our work for us.

Like Tom Sawyer getting his
friends to whitewash the fence.

You're reading too many books.
That's bad for you.

-It's bad for you, you mean.
-I better get in the house.

Hey, you gonna write about our
boat? It'll make a good story.

Mary Ellen, last week
I'd have thought so, too.

Right now, I'm not sure at all.

Come on. Let's get
those sides hammered in.

-Get that hammer.
-Nails.

John-Boy.

Come in.

You didn't eat any supper.
I thought you might be hungry.

What's the matter?

Tomorrow I have to bring
in a sample of my work.

Out of all the stories
you'll find something good.

I think they're all good.

-But are they good enough?
-Good enough for what?

Mama, the people
in this class are....

They're very sophisticated.
They're very discriminating.

It's not as easy to impress
them as it is to impress you.

Since when have you been
out to impress other people?

That's not what I mean.

They know so much more
than I do about these things.

They're interested in very
important themes for their work.

You feeling that your
stories aren't serious enough?

That's exactly what I'm feeling.

I'm wondering if I have anything
at all to say as a writer.

John-Boy, that is foolish.

It's a feels terrible, wondering
if what you want to say

is important or meaningful
to other people.

Your feelings are in an uproar

'cause you've to prove yourself
to strangers for the first time.

That's gonna happen
all the time from now on.

-You've to get used to it.
-That's terrible.

I wish I could help.

When you were little
it was so much easier.

You fell down, I could pick you
up. You were afraid of the dark

I could show you there weren't
any ghosts in the corner.

But now there's truly
nothing I can do.

Except to tell you when to eat
and that is now. Here.

I admit it. I'm starving.

Mom. Thank you.

Jason, your brother's
trying to work.

Oh, hi, Olivia. Nice to see you.

Well, you know that material
you ordered? It's here.

Thanks, Ike. Jason wants to know
if his harmonica's here yet.

Oh, that Jason.
He orders a harmonica yesterday

and he expects it today.

Here's something
you might be interested in.

Grogan's Department Store
is having a fall fashion show.

I never miss one of these.

You going, huh?

-I think I'll skip this one.
-It's free.

No point in going all
the way to Charlottesville

to look at a bunch of dresses
I can't afford to buy.

That dress catch your eye, huh?

Ike, have you
finished with this?

-Oh, sure.
-Mind if I take it with me?

-Oh, no, go ahead.
-Thank you.

Must be something pretty
interesting in there, huh?

No, it's nothing special.

Oh, come in, come in, Miss....

-Mrs. Walton.
-Mrs. Walton.

-Have a seat, please.
-Thank you.

And what have you brought us?

-You've written a novel?
-Oh, no.

This is my son's work.
He's 18 and a very fine writer.

At least, I think so.

We want to believe
that as much as you do.

After all, without new writers,
what would publishers do?

Do you publish short stories?

Certainly. If they're good.

Do I leave these with you?

They're only a few samples.
John-Boy's written a lot more.

You just leave
them, Mrs. Walton

and we'll be giving you
an opinion within the week.

The address is here.

And I'd appreciate it if you'd
send your reply addressed to me.

My son doesn't know I'm
here, and if you turn him down

it might be better
if he never knew.

You should think
more positively.

We just may consider
your son's work good

and want to publish it.

-Think of that.
-I will.

But I'd appreciate it if you
send the reply addressed to me.

Certainly.

I look forward to reading
your son's novel.

-Short stories.
-Right.

We'll be in touch.
Thank you for choosing us.

-Thank you.
-Bye-bye.

Goodbye.

Ike, did my harmonica
come in yet?

Stop it, will you?
I'm sick and tired of you

coming in here and asking when
that harmonica's gonna come in.

-Okay.
-You know why?

-Why?
-'Cause it came in.

Hot dog! Thanks, Ike.

Oh, look at that. Brand new.

Hold it. 94 cents.
Cash on delivery.

Got it right here.

-Exact change. 94 cents.
-Okay.

-It's a catchy tune.
-I wrote it myself.

-Ike, got any Wings cigarettes?
-Yeah, sure.

I'll take a pack of them
and one of them chocolate bars.

Okay.

Here you go.

It's new. I couldn't
wait to try it out.

You play that thing
pretty good. You surely do.

-Your change.
-Thank you.

-What else you do?
-Oh, I play a little guitar.

-I sing.
-Ever do it professional?

I won an amateur contest once.

Gonna be professional
one of these days.

Maybe sooner than you think.

-How's that?
-Well, that all depends.

Have you ever heard of Bobby
Bigelow and the Haystack Gang?

Oh, sure. They play all over
Virginia. What about them?

I travel with them and we
need a new man in these parts.

You mean, I could play with
the Haystack Gang. When?

Wait a minute. Slow down, boy.
Like I said, it all depends.

-Bobby'd have to hear you.
-When?

Well, now don't get your
hopes up too much, you see.

'Cause Bobby's pretty picky.

But you show up at the Barn
Dance Hall in Scottsville

a week from Friday at 5:00.

If you don't see me, you tell
Bobby that Caspar Tice sent you.

-And then we'll see.
-I surely will.

What's your name, so I can tell
Bobby who to expect?

-Walton. Jason Walton.
-Alright now.

A week from Friday, 5:00.

I'll be there. Thank you.

Ike.

Two weeks from now, I might
be a real professional musician.

Your mom and your
daddy are gonna

have the biggest
surprise of their lives.

I don't think I'm
gonna tell anybody

about getting to meet Bobby
Bigelow until after it happens.

-You'll take the joy out of it.
-No, Ike, really.

Promise me you won't mention it.

I'll say I met
Mr. Tice and then later

if I do get a job,
I'll tell the world.

So will I, and I'll
keep your promise, too.

-Mum's the word.
-Thanks, Ike.

Such industry.

The boat's beginning
to look real good.

You all are doing a great job.

Thanks. How was your
writing class today?

Oh, not so good.

I read them that
story about Benji.

The terrier I had when
I was a little.

-That one's good. I liked it.
-I thought so, too.

But you know what
the class said?

They said it was very nice.
Nice.

Well, they could have
said it was lousy.

Well, that's true.

Of course, I wasn't
thinking about it that way.

I'm home. Sorry I'm late.
I was at the library.

John-Boy, I thought
you'd never get home. Here.

-What's this?
-Read it.

"Majestic Press. Mrs. John
Walton." This is yours.

-John-Boy, open it and read it.
-Okay. Alright, I'll read it.

I'll read it.

"Dear Mrs. Walton,
congratulations.

Your son is an exciting new
talent in the regional vein."

-What is this?
-Go on, read it.

"We are most eager....

We are most eager
to publish his short stories."

What? Is this real?

They're going to publish me?
Oh, my Lord!

Daddy! Daddy!

Mama! Grandma,
Grandpa, come here!

Jason! Mary Ellen!

John-Boy, calm down!

Look at this.
I'm gonna be published.

Look at that. "Majestic Press!"

I can't believe it.
Look at this.

I've been writing
in my diary ever

since I learned how to put words
on paper. And it's gonna happen.

I'm going to be published.
Listen.

"We are most eager
to publish your short stories.

"We will need at least six more
stories for a full-length volume

"and if they're of the same
caliber as the earlier ones

a contract will be forthcoming."

They want six stories!
I'll send them 16!

-Hey. You wanna hear something?
-Jason!

John-Boy's gonna
have a book come out!

-What?
-Majestic Press!

They're gonna
publish me! It's real!

Congratulations!

And Mama did it all by herself.

They say that behind
every great man is a woman.

-You bear that in mind, Zeb.
-Get thee behind me, old woman.

Has it been some
day for this family.

John-Boy's getting
published and I--

Mama, I'm dedicating
this book to you.

-To Olivia Walton.
-The whole family.

-Say, I met this man--
-This is what I'll do.

I'll dedicate it to Zebulon
and Esther and John and Olivia

and Elizabeth and Jason
and Mary Ellen....

-Easy now, easy now.
-I couldn't believe it.

Easy.

Have you heard anything
from your publishers yet?

No. I imagine it takes
a little while.

I've sent them the six
other stories they requested.

-And the contract's arrived?
-Maybe today.

Which ones did you
send them, John?

Well, I sent them some that
I haven't brought in here

and the one about the dog.
The one I read that last week?

Yes, I remember.

-Was that a wise choice?
-Oh, yes.

I think it has the right
sort of innocence

for a collection of early work.

Possibly. I think people
will find it pleasant reading.

I hope I get a stronger
response than that.

Then I hope so, too. Now,
let's get back to the class.

Miss Barstow,
are you ready to read?

"When her mother started to cry,
Edna ran out into the street."

-Hello there.
-Mr. Tice.

Hey, Bobby!

Come on.

Here's that boy I've been
telling you about.

-What'd you say your name was?
-Jason Walton.

-Bobby Bigelow. How are you?
-I know.

I've admired your playing
for a long time, sir.

Not too long, I hope. I'm barely
out of diapers myself.

Caspar here tells me
you play real good

and he liked the way you look.

How'd you like to play
with the Haystack Gang?

Well, let's see what you do.

-Now?
-No time like the present.

-You said you could sing.
-Yes, sir.

Well, do us a chorus
of something.

What do you like?

Would Sweet Betsy From Pike be
alright?

-You bet.
-Let her rip.

* Don't you remember
sweet betsy from pike *

* Who crossed the big mountains
with her lover Ike *

* They had two yoke of oxen
and an ol' yeller dog *

* A tall shanghai rooster
and a big spotted hog *

* Sayin' farewell pike county
goodbye for a while *

* We'll come back again when
we've panned down our pile *

* On an evening quite early
they camped on the plat *

* Nearby the road
on a green shady flat *

-Jason. Jason.
-Yes, sir?

Let me tell you, son.
You're good. Real good.

What did I tell you?

Well, thank you.

-You play real good. Doesn't he?
-He's real good.

Thank you.

When I sign this, it means
I'm a professional writer.

-Let me have a look at that.
-It's just a standard contract.

-Hurry up and sign it.
-Just one minute.

I just wanna say one thing
before I do sign this, though.

This really
is the happiest day of my life

and none of it would have
been possible without you all.

Alright. Let me see this.

-I'm gonna go get the pen.
-I'll get the ink.

Well, now look here.
It says you have to be over 21

or a parent
has to sign with you.

-Where?
-Now let's just calm down a bit.

Maybe you missed
some other things here.

If it's alright with you,
I'd like Mama to sign it.

Now, Livie, just a second. Liv.

John-Boy.

You write it clear
so they can read it.

-You oughta practice it first.
-I'm just gonna sign my name.

Does it say anything about
your picture on the cover?

-Mama.
-I'm serious.

If it doesn't, you
oughta write it in.

Here goes.

Maybe I oughta
see about a contract.

You gonna be a writer,
too, Jason?

No. I might get to play
with Bobby Bigelow soon.

Guess what happened
on my way to class.

A girl asked me
for my autograph.

She probably thought
you were real important.

Yeah, some movie star.

-Can I mail it?
-John-Boy said I could.

-You can both mail it.
-You both wash your hands.

It can't arrive all messy.

Please watch it! Watch it!

Now will you two stop
that? This is important.

If it's alright,
I'd like to mail it.

I'd like to get a little fresh
air and think about all of this.

Can we watch you
put it in the box?

Thanks, but I'd like
to be by myself for this.

Why don't we work
on the boat? Come on.

It's bedtime, so only
take a couple of minutes.

You know what else
happened to me today?

A professor I'd never
even seen in my life

came up to me and said

"Mr. Walton you're getting
to be a regular literary lion"

"around here, aren't you?"

Did you growl at him?

Liv, I know how important
this is to John-Boy.

but signing
a contract and having

a book published
is a serious matter.

-He's running off to mail it--
-It's just so exciting.

Imagine, our son.
A literary lion.

-Good. I'm glad you're still up.
-John-Boy.

-Quite a day for you, Son.
-Yes, it has.

I wanted to talk
to you about that.

I was thinking out
there on the road.

I don't really know
how to say this.

Well, it seems
to me that from now on

a lot more is gonna
be expected of me.

I mean, from my fellow students
and teachers and...everywhere.

And I'm gonna need
a little more time to myself.

Jason's already taken over
a big share of your chores, Son.

I know that. That's true.

That's not what I mean.
I'm talking about the children.

I can't jump every time they
call me, like with the boat.

I'd like you to tell 'em that
'cause I don't wanna hurt them.

If you're needing more
time to yourself, son

maybe you oughta
explain to them.

They'll understand. They know
how much all this means to you.

Well....

Sure, okay.

I guess I'd better go
upstairs and do some reading.

I might have to come up
with a secondcollection soon.

Imagine that. A second book.

-Mr. Parks.
-Yes.

Do you know who's the youngest
writer ever published?

I don't believe
I do, Mr. Walton.

But I could try
and find out for you.

Or you could avail
yourself of the library.

Yes, I think I'll do that.

John.

I belong to a literary society

that meets in Westham
twice a month.

After telling them about you,
they'd like you to come

and speak on the short story
as a literary form.

Me?

-I guess I could give it a try.
-Then I'll tell them you accept?

-Sure.
-Okay.

John?

There's been another
request for you to speak.

Yes, sir?

Are you familiar with a program
called The Roving Reporter?

Yes, my family listens
to it at home all the time.

Well, Timothy Collins, that's
the reporter's actual name

he's a next-door
neighbor of mine.

After hearing your good fortune

he expressed an interest in
interviewing you on his program.

-He's gonna put me on the radio?
-If you're willing.

He wants to come right
into the classroom

and cut what he calls
an electrical transcription.

That's one of those
record things

and then they replay it
when the program is broadcast?

That's right.

So you'll be in your living room

listening to the sound
of your own voice in comfort.

Progress sure brings
strange things with it.

Well, John, you don't have
to make up your mind immediately

but I presume you could
use a little publicity.

Be good for book
sales, that sort of thing.

Oh, yes, I'd like to.

Maybe I could read a story,
and we could discuss it after.

Well, it's only
a three-minute interview.

Well, I'd love to do it.

Tell him I'll do it whenever
it's convenient for him.

Good.

Well, now that that's taken care
of...let's get back to class.

You have last week's
assignments in front of you

and I think I have graded
them rather generously.

B minus?

As I say, John, I think I have
graded them rather generously.

Mary Ellen, what's the point
in putting that in right now?

Because it makes
the boat look nice.

But when you paint all around
it's gonna get all smeared up.

-Ben, you're so logical.
-And you act just like a girl.

-That's because she is one.
-Why do girls stick together?

-Well, we need to.
-What for?

Because....

I don't know.
Mary Ellen said so.

Heave ho, me hearties!
And wet them all over.

And a bottle
of the recipe for the launching.

Oh, you've changed
your tune, old man

but I've known all along
they'd get this boat in order.

Esther, for your
faith in this project

I will carve a figurehead
and use you as a model.

Oh, stop that. You've
got a nasty mind, old man.

My intention was to carve you
with your dress and apron on.

Look to your own mind.

Hey, Daddy, what time is Jason
coming home? We need his help.

Early, I guess.
He had something to do.

-Let's go ask John-Boy.
-Okay.

-Come on.
-Yeah.

I'm staying here.

Hey, John-Boy! John-Boy!

Hey, John-Boy, are you deaf?

No, but I will be if you don't
stop hollering like a banshee.

-Come on, we need your help.
-What for?

There's still some painting
to be done. You're the captain.

-Sorry.
-Sorry about what?

I'm busy.

John-Boy, you've been
saying that all week.

I'm sorry,
but that's the way it is.

I have a radio speech to get
ready. I have galleys to read.

If you don't help us finish,
you're off the boat.

No more sailing privileges.

Ben, that is just
childish nonsense.

Now stop bothering me.

Now who's gonna be captain?

-Me.
-Me.

How about my giving you a hand?

-Sure, Grandpa, here.
-Great.

For the first time in long
years, I'd like to give a hand

on John-Boy's bottom.

I know he's acting foolish but

he's been writing practically
since he could walk

with no encouragement.

He's riding a little high.
He'll come down to earth.

He'll come down with a thump
if he doesn't watch out.

* My wife and I
lived all alone *

* In a little log hut
we called our own *

* She loved gin
and I loved rum *

* Tell you we'd lots of fun *

* Ha ha ha you and me *

* Little brown jug
don't I love thee *

* Ha ha ha you and me *

* Little brown jug
don't I love thee *

* Ha ha ha you and me *

* Little brown jug
don't I love thee *

* Ha ha ha you and me *

* Little brown jug
don't I love thee *

-You got yourself a job, Jason.
-You mean it?

Do I look like a fellow that
says things he don't mean?

$3 a night anytime
we play this area.

$3?

Okay, $3.50, but don't
haggle on the bandstand.

It's not professional.

I Wish I Was Single Again.

* I wish I was single again *

* I wish I was single again *

* Cause when I was single
my pockets would jingle *

* I wish I was single again *

Ike. Ike.

Yeah. I got it right here.
Came in about a half hour ago.

Thank you.

It's blue.

Oh, Mama, it's beautiful.

It's so beautiful.

Look at that.

"Short stories. A collection
by John Walton Jr."

This is for you, Ike.

I'd be proud to accept it.

Would you write
your name inside it?

Of course.

And say something
special, you know.

Alright.

That's right nice, John-Boy.

"To my friend, Ike Godsey.

"one of the people
who made it possible

"for me to write these stories.

"Sincerely, John Walton Jr."

Well, it's the first
one out of the box

and the first one I autographed

and the first
of the first edition.

Thank you, Ike.

Bye-bye. Let's get
these home. Bye-bye.

-Goodbye, Ike.
-Bye, Olivia.

Thank you. Daddy, here they are!
Grandma, Grandpa.

Look at this. Look at that.

-Well, look, at that.
-Isn't that beautiful?

Isn't it beautiful?

My own words in print.
It's such a strange thing.

Listen to this.

"At night, across Virginia

"across the old
fought-upon earth

"there comes a sweet darkness

"that seeps down
from the mountains

"and laden
with the scent of dogwood

flows across the hills
and into the valleys."

Here's a letter.
Must be a covering letter.

Wait a minute. This can't be.
This can't be right.

-What is it?
-This is a bill.

This is a bill for $50.

Look, it says, "$50, cost
of the entire first printing."

"Please remit. You may
order more if you wish."

You mean they print 'em up,
send 'em and charge for it?

It's a racket.

It's a racket.
That's what it is.

Yes, a very slick
contract, very slick.

Is it legal?

Couldn't be more so.

I hate to disappoint you,
but this document is ironclad.

And Olivia's signature,
as parent here, settles that.

Didn't anybody read this?

Well, I thought I did.

I wish you'd have brought
this in before you signed it.

I could have told
you there was a catch.

They can get away
with that racket?

It's no racket, John.

You see, the name for this
kind of publishing venture

is called a vanity press,
and a good name it is, too.

You see, these printing houses,
they appeal to the vanity

of anyone who
is hankering to be published

and is willing to pay for it.

We didn't know
anything about that.

We thought it was a legitimate
publishing offer.

Did you get 50 books,
bound and all?

-Properly bound?
-Yes.

They lived up to their contract.
You can't call that a racket.

Guffy's right. Nothing we can do
except figure out how to pay.

Oh, no, Daddy.
I'll take care of that.

I don't want the family
paying for my vanity.

-Well, it was my fault.
-Mama.

Once that letter
came I would have

done anything
to get those books.

And I guess that's just
what those people count on.

You're busy thinking about your
name on the spine of a book

you don't read the fine print.
Daddy tried to tell us that.

I guess we all went overboard
when we got that letter.

I just kept right
on going, didn't I?

-Well, thank you, Sam.
-You're welcome.

I guess I better
take this home with me.

It'll do good to look
at it from time to time.

The vanity press, they call it.

Well, the scriptures said it.
"All is vanity."

Vanity. I don't know how many
times I've told this family

never to sign anything unless
a lawyer reads the fine print

upside down and inside out.

Lots of times, Pa.

Except I didn't hear you
say anything the other day

when John-Boy was signing
that contract right here.

Oh, stop it.

I wish he'd come out.

He hasn't budged from
his room since we got back.

Embarrassed about facing
all his friends at school.

I'll go fetch him.

No, leave him be. He needs
to be alone right now, Pa.

Boat's almost painted.

-How's she look?
-Come on out and see.

-Not now, Jason.
-Oh, okay.

Daddy, can I use
the truck again tonight?

Well, now what
are you doing on the side?

Some sort of new romantic
business, like bootlegging?

Zeb, hush up.

No, just someplace I have to go.

This is the third
time this week, son.

I gotta ask you
where you wanna go.

I have a job.

-A job?
-What?

Mama, it's terrific.

I'm playing guitar
and harmonica and singing

with Bobby Bigelow
and the Haystack Gang.

-You're what?
-For how long?

Well, I met this man at Ike's.

It was when Mama got the letter
about John-Boy being published.

And, well, there was all that
excitement about John-Boy, so--

What about this man you met?

He made me try out for Bobby
Bigelow. And he liked me.

So I work for him whenever
they play around here.

I get $3.50 a night.

Got almost $9 saved up.

Why did you keep
it such a secret, Son?

Well, I tried to tell
you a couple of times

well, everything was happening
so fast with John-Boy

didn't want
to steal his thunder.

-Jason.
-It's okay.

Can I use the truck? I gotta
be in Scottsville by 8:00.

-Why don't we all go along?
-Would you like to?

It might be just what
this family needs.

I'll get the kids
all scrubbed up.

They must be covered with paint.

They are.

I think I'd like
to ask John-Boy myself.

I wish you would, Jason.

John-Boy, it's me, Jase.

Come in? It's important.

Door's open.

John-Boy.

The family's going
into Scottsville to hear me

where I'm working.

Where you're working?

I'm singing and playing
with Bobby Bigelow.

Would you like to come along?

That's wonderful.
When did that happen?

A couple of weeks ago.

-Why didn't you tell me?
-Well, I tried to.

Yeah, I was just too busy
thinking of myself

as the next Pulitzer Prize
winner, wasn't I?

Come on with us.

I wouldn't miss it
for the world, Jason.

-Good. I'll meet you downstairs.
-I'll be there in a minute.

Okay.

-That's my grandson up there.
-The reddish-haired one.

-His name's Jason.
-A Walton.

Jason, been looking for you.

If I....

I guess I kind
of overlooked you lately.

Not that I noticed.

I feel bad.

I was worried about John-Boy.
He seemed so discouraged.

and then, when all that
book business started

I guess I just didn't give
much thought to other people.

Well, you can't
be everywhere at once.

Jason.

I gotta get back to work now.

-John, you're late.
-Yes, sir, I have to speak--

John, I want you
to meet Timothy Collins.

Tim's the Roving Reporter
and John Walton here is....

Well, I guess, a new star
in the literary firmament.

-Excuse me, Mr. Collins--
-We're going, John.

Don't worry about
a thing and don't be nervous.

Testing, one, two, three,
testing.

Good evening,
ladies and gentlemen.

This is Timothy Collins,
your Roving Reporter.

Our local luminary
for this evening is a young man

who's destined
for fame as a writer.

His name is John Walton Jr.

He's a freshman
at Boatwright University

and he's already
begun his career

as a professional writer.

His first book,
a collection of short stories

is on its way
to being published--

Excuse me, that
isn't really true.

I mean,
it's partly true, but....

Well, there's a lot
more to it than that.

And everybody doesn't know
the whole story about it.

Well, I've always wanted
to be published, but....

I guess I've always dreamed
about being published.

But it wasn't the publishing
company that deceived me.

I really deceived myself.

I just became so self-important

that I really don't see how my
family ever lived with me

or how my classmates
could even put up with me.

And I'd be lying
if I said it didn't hurt.

My professor said once that

it's an arrogant
thing to be a writer.

To think that you can create
a world that's so interesting

that people will
pay money to buy

your books or read
your short stories.

So maybe I just got
a little too arrogant.

I'd just like to say that it's
a fine thing to be a writer.

There's a very secret
and wonderful joy

when you put down a few words

that really say what you meant
to convey in the first place.

And...I'm just gonna
keep on trying.

Alright, everybody,
upstairs and do your homework.

Come on, Elizabeth.

It was a nice talk, Son.
You said some good things.

-Thank you. I meant them.
-I'm sure you did.

These haven't been
my best days, Daddy.

I know. Guess they're
about over, though, huh?

Yes, they are.

The family's gonna
be mighty pleased to hear that.

-Come on! Come on, John-Boy!
-No!

-Come on!
-Alright, I'm coming!

The scars of that
first disappointment

were a long time in healing.
But they did heal.

The best medicine, as always

was the sympathy
and understanding of my family.

And a ridiculous little
rowboat that went a long way

in helping me to forget.

JASON: John-Boy, now
that I'm making money

I can help you out with
that bill for the books.

JOHN-BOY: No, Jason. I'm
gonna pay for that myself.

JASON: Sure now?
Glad to help out.

JOHN-BOY: No, really,
Jason. But thank you.

-John-Boy?
-Uh-huh?

JASON: I'm kind of glad
you didn't take me up on it.

-Goodnight, Jason.
-Goodnight, John-Boy.