A Plaque for Mr. Conklin

MISS CONNIE BROOKS, dry-humored schoolteacher
MRS. DAVIS, her scatterbrained housekeeper
WALTER DENTON, trouble-making student w/ cracked voice
HARRIET CONKLIN, sweet sixteen, student
MR. STONE, head of the School Board
MR. OSGOOD CONKLIN, pompous principal
MR. PHILIP BOYNTON, clueless teacher, Miss Brooks' unrequited crush


ANNOUNCER: It's time once again, for another comedy episode of "Our Miss 
Brooks," transcribed.


ANNOUNCER: By his own admission, Principal Osgood Conklin's astute leadership 
has molded Madison High into a streamlined machine which operates with the 
facile precision of a new car. But to Our Miss Brooks, who teaches English at 
Madison, it's the same old jalopy.

CONNIE: That's true. Mr. Conklin is the same old flat tire and Mr. Boynton 
still needs his battery charged. ... But apropos astute leadership, last 
Tuesday we solemnly and traditionally observed the birthday of Madison's 
beloved founder and first principal, Yodar Crisp. The only Madison High 
principal ever to be awarded a distinguished service plaque by the Board of 
Education. Of course, Mr. Conklin has long been bucking for a similar honor. 
But inasmuch as the Board has ignored him for lo these many years, I was not 
prepared for the news with which my landlady, Mrs. Davis, pelted me at 

MRS. DAVIS: Connie, I was just leaving the market a few minutes ago when I saw 
Osgood Conklin pulling up in his car. He was grinning from ear to ear.

CONNIE: What happened? Did he run over a teacher? ...

MRS. DAVIS: No, dear. Something wonderful happened to him.  

CONNIE: He caught pneumonia? ...

MRS. DAVIS: I'm serious, Connie. Last night, he received a telegram from Mr. 
Stone, the head of the Board, informing him that they decided to award him a 
plaque for distinguished service to Madison High.  

CONNIE: You're kidding.

MRS. DAVIS: No, it's true. And was he proud! Why, when he showed me the 
telegram, his chest was all puffed up.  

CONNIE: Fine. Now it'll blend neatly with the rest of his anatomy. ... How 
come you did your shopping so early this morning, Mrs. Davis?

MRS. DAVIS: Well, I wanted to pick up some groceries for my sister, Angela. A 
dreadful thing happened to her at the drug store yesterday, poor thing. 
Angela's the absent-minded one in the family, you know.  

CONNIE: What happened to her?

MRS. DAVIS: (PAUSE) Uh, what happened to _who_, dear? ...

CONNIE: You started to tell me what happened at the drug store to your sister, 
Angela. (DRYLY) She's the absent-minded one in your family.

MRS. DAVIS: She certainly is. (PAUSE) Well, I'll just get these dishes cleaned 
up. ... 

CONNIE: Mrs. Davis, something dreadful happened at the drug store.

MRS. DAVIS: When, Connie?

CONNIE: In the Spring of '48. ... Now, what happened to Angela?

MRS. DAVIS: Oh, her. She bumped her head on the pinball machine and the blow 
caused amnesia. ...

CONNIE: Amnesia?

MRS. DAVIS: Couldn't even remember her own name. Well, when the druggist sent 
for the police, Angela became so hysterical she called him some awful names, 
Connie. But realizing she had amnesia, he forgave her for that, of course.  

CONNIE: Well, that's fine, but--

MRS. DAVIS: Anyway when her mind snapped back to normal she felt terribly 
embarrassed. You know what a shy, sensitive, sweet old lady Angela is.

CONNIE: Yes, I do. But what caused her mind to snap back to normal?

MRS. DAVIS: She bumped her head again getting into the patrol wagon. ... That 
second blow on the head often cures amnesia, you know.  

CONNIE: I'm sorry I asked.


MRS. DAVIS: Oh, that's probably Walter Denton to drive you to school. I'll go 
whip up some breakfast for him, dear.


CONNIE: All right, Mrs. Davis. (CALLS) Come in, Walter!  


WALTER: (OBSEQUIOUS) Greetings, oh, Queen of Madison Faculty! I bow to the 
teacher for whom I have naught but the highest regard.

CONNIE: And I bow to the student for whom I have naught but the lowest marks. 
... Sit down, Walter; Mrs. Davis is getting your breakfast.  

WALTER: Ah, splendid. Miss Brooks, I happened to pass Mr. Conklin's house last 
night. Well, I didn't actually pass it. I dallied there just long enough to 
let the air out of his tires.  

CONNIE: Walter! How could you?

WALTER: Oh, it's easy. You just press the little valve down and-- ... Call it 
retribution, Miss Brooks. Yesterday, I accidentally broke a window in Mr. 
Conklin's office. And it made him so mad he saddled me with a whole week's 
detention. So I decided to take out its value in trade, sorta, by playing a 
series of innocent little pranks on the old boy that are guaranteed to make 
his life utterly miserable.    

CONNIE: I'm afraid there's nothing you can do to pull Mr. Conklin out of the 
happy clouds today, Walter. Last night, he received a telegram from Mr. Stone 
informing him that the Board has decided to award him a plaque for 
distinguished service.  

WALTER: Oh, Mr. Stone didn't send that telegram!

CONNIE: He didn't?

WALTER: Of course not! I did! (LAUGHS) ...

CONNIE: _You_ did?

WALTER: Yeah, I consider that little beauty my prize prank, Miss Brooks. I'm 
setting him up for an awful letdown, comprenez-vous?  Methinks all day he'll 
be madly awaiting that silly plaque, and when he doesn't get it -- he'll belly 

CONNIE: Now, you've gone much too far, Walter. When Mr. Conklin discovers what 
you've done, it's my guess that you'll be expelled from school.  

WALTER: So, how's he gonna find out?

CONNIE: Well, every criminal overlooks one little detail, Walter, and you're 
no exception. When Mr. Conklin fails to receive the silly plaque, it's only 
natural he'll investigate. First of all, he'll call the telegraph office and 
the whole truth will come out.

WALTER: Holy cow! I've created a Frankenstein! ... Gosh, if I should be 
expelled, what'll I say to my Pop? Oh, you've gotta help me, Miss Brooks. You 
wouldn't wanna see me get the old heave-ho, would ya?  

CONNIE: No, I wouldn't, Walter. But my sympathies are also with poor Mr. 
Conklin in this matter. When I think of his fondest dream blowing up in his 
silly face-- (QUICKLY CORRECTS HERSELF) his face-- Well, it's positively cruel.  

WALTER: Hold it a second, Miss Brooks. Hold it. I got the ol' bean workin'. So 
I created a Frankenstein, okay? So now I've created a little scheme which, 
with your help, will slay the monster in his lair.

CONNIE: (MOCK CONSPIRATORIAL) What's the layout, Louie? ...

WALTER: Before school this morning, you will drop into Mr. Conklin's office 
and subtly remind him of the case of the former Madison principal, Mr. 
Hargrove, who modestly declined the plaque from the Board. Now, they deemed 
his gesture so noble that one year later they gave Mr. Hargrove, not a little 
plaque, but a statue of himself, which is now ensconced in our auditorium.  

CONNIE: In other words, you want me to convince Mr. Conklin that if he should 
decline the plaque, he'll set himself in line for a statue?

WALTER: Exactly.  

CONNIE: But, Walter! He'll never _get_ the statue.  

WALTER: No, but he can _dream_, can't he? ...

CONNIE: Walter, don't you realize that if I should stoop to such a deception, 
I'd be a traitor, not only to Mr. Conklin, but to the school as well.

huh? Okay. I thought you were a friend, that's all. It's a desperate scheme, 
sure, but it's a desperate situation. You have your own problems, I guess. 
What happens to me doesn't really matter.  

CONNIE: Oh, now, please, no tears.

WALTER: (CHOKED WITH EMOTION) No, its-- I forgive you, Miss Brooks. If you 
want to let poor Mr. Conklin suffer to the point where my father will beat the 
daylights out of me, that's perfectly okay. ... (DOWNRIGHT THEATRICAL) I'll be 
expelled! Okay, so what? You just can't help me!

CONNIE: Oh, now, please, Walter.  

WALTER: (CRYING) After all, you can't be a traitor.

CONNIE: (GIVES IN) Who can't? Dry your eyes and call me Benedict. ...


WALTER: Morning, Harriet.

HARRIET: Oh, hi, Walter. Say, wasn't that Miss Brooks you just dropped off in 
front of school?

WALTER: Oh, yeah. She was in a hurry to get to your father's office.

HARRIET: Oh, well she'll certainly find him in a wonderful mood. Daddy got a 
telegram last night, Walter, and you'll never guess what it said.

WALTER: Hey, what d'you bet? ...

HARRIET: It was from Mr. Stone. The Board has decided to give Daddy a plaque 
for distinguished service.  

WALTER: Yeah, sure.


HARRIET: Oh, Walter, look who's pulling up.

MR. STONE: Oh, good morning, Denton.

WALTER: (SURPRISED, NERVOUS) Mr. Stone? Are you going in to see Mr. Conklin, 

MR. STONE: Er, no time for that now; just stopped by to say hello. And how are 
you, Harriet?

HARRIET: Oh, I'm simply thrilled, Mr. Stone. Last night when Daddy received 
your telegram—


MR. STONE: Er, telegram? From me? A telegram? Oh, well, perhaps my secretary  
sent it off without my knowledge after our meeting yesterday afternoon. It 
wasn't until five o'clock that we arrived at the decision.

WALTER: The decision, Mr. Stone? 

MR. STONE: Yes. The Board has decided to give Mr. Conklin a plaque for 
distinguished service. ...

WALTER: Yikes!


CONKLIN: (IN HIGH DUDGEON) I'm glad you opened my eyes, Miss Brooks. If Mr. 
Stone thinks he can brush me off with a silly plaque, he's sadly mistaken. A 
statue! That's what _I_ deserve. ...

CONNIE: Oh, please, Mr. Conklin, I didn't mean to upset you.

CONKLIN: I'm grateful to you, my dear. What a fool I've been. To think that 
I've been sitting here in sheer ecstasy, mentally savoring that putrid plaque. 
I shall decline the plaque, of course, modestly and in a letter, as you have 
suggested. I'll get my personal stationary from my inner office, Miss Brooks. 
Excuse me one moment.


CONNIE: Take your time, Mr. Conklin.  


WALTER: Miss Brooks, I gotta talk to you.

CONNIE: What is it, Walter?  

WALTER: [?] belly drop again. Everything I said in that phony telegram turned 
out to be true.  

CONNIE: What?!

WALTER: I just saw Mr. Stone and he told me the Board has decided to give Mr. 
Conklin a plaque.

CONNIE: But I've already talked Mr. Conklin into declining it.  

WALTER: Then you've got to reverse course and talk him into accepting it.  
I'll wait out in the hall for you, Miss Brooks – and good luck.


CONNIE: Good luck, oh great.


CONKLIN: Did I hear someone in here, Miss Brooks?

CONNIE: You couldn't have – you're smiling. Heh. ...  No, sir. If you heard 
the door slamming, it was just the wind. Now if you'll excuse me--

CONKLIN: (INTERRUPTS) Hold on, hold on. You know, I was just thinking. I've 
given my all to this school; five years of faithful service. Mr. Hargrove 
served less than half that time and for that he got a statue.  

CONNIE: Yes, and what an ugly monstrosity it is. It's no wonder the students 
park their messy chewing gum all over him. I think you might be happier with a 
plaque after all, Mr. Conklin.

CONKLIN: Nonsense, nonsense. I shall write the letter of declination as per 
your original suggestion, Miss Brooks. In it, I shall request a reply. You 
will wait for it.  

CONNIE: For a reply?

CONKLIN: Signed and sealed by Mr. Stone himself.

CONNIE: But, sir, why complicate matters--?

CONKLIN: (INTERRUPTS, DARKLY) I have spoken. ... Go on, Miss Brooks.

CONNIE: Yes, sir. Bye, Mr. Conklin.  


CONNIE: Well, Walter, it seems congratulations are in order.

WALTER: Congratulations? What do you mean, Miss Brooks?

CONNIE: Remember that Frankenstein you created? He just had a baby. ...


CONNIE: Well, there I was, Connie Brooks, bride of Frankenstein, star of 
Walter Denton's Pulitzer Prize-winning scheme entitled, "I gave you the bag, 
Miss Brooks, now hold it." As I was about to leave my classroom at noon and 
head for Mr. Conklin's office, something entitled "That's what I want for 
Christmas" came in.

BOYNTON: Hi, Miss Brooks.

CONNIE: Hello, Mr. Boynton.

BOYNTON: Are you busy?

CONNIE: No, what's your best offer? ...


CONNIE: Oh, skip it, Mr. Boynton. If you'll excuse me, I'll just run over to 
Mr. Conklin's office. Walter Denton is in trouble up to my neck.  

BOYNTON: Yes, I know. Walter confessed the entire story to me, hoping that I 
could come up with a solution. But I'm afraid that's not up to me, Miss 
Brooks. _You're_ carrying the ball.

CONNIE: It's not a ball, it's a bomb. Let's bounce it over to Mr. Conklin's 
office together, shall we?

BOYNTON: I'll be happy to tag along, if you don't mind.  


BOYNTON: Oh, say, I met Mrs. Davis as she was heading for the school 
cafeteria. I promised to join her for lunch, in fact.

CONNIE: Mrs. Davis is in the cafeteria?  

BOYNTON: Well, yes. She said she just didn't feel like dining at home alone.  
When Mr. Conklin lets you go, Miss Brooks, do you think you might join us?  

CONNIE: I don't know, I may join the Foreign Legion instead. I saw Mr. Conklin 
briefly at eleven o'clock and he was practically throwing a fit because Mr. 
Hargrove received a statue from the Board. Ingrates, he called them; 
particularly Mr. Stone. Really, I've never seen him so furious.
BOYNTON: Well, that was at eleven o'clock, Miss Brooks. Maybe he's calmed down 
a little by now.  

CONNIE: Well, here's his office, I'll soon find out.


CONKLIN: (OFF, THREATENING) Come in, if you _dare_! ...

CONNIE: Yes, he _has_ calmed down a little. ... Sorry, Mr. Boynton.


CONKLIN: Ah _ha_!!

CONNIE: Before you heave that inkwell, please observe that I have entered 
under a flag of truce. 

CONKLIN: Let's dispense with the levity, shall we? Miss Brooks, instead of 
writing to Mr. Stone, I have decided to have a little chat with him. It's 
clear to me now that in view of my outstanding record, the Board would have 
given me a statue long ago, if Mr. Stone had not been working _insidiously_ 
against me.  

CONNIE: Oh, you mustn't jump to conclusions, Mr. Conklin. After all, Mr. Stone 
_is_ your superior, sir, and if you should flare up in his presence...

CONKLIN: (THOUGHTFUL) Well, I see your point. Yes, yes, you're perfectly 
right. Self control, that's the ticket.


CONKLIN: (PLEASANT) Osgood Conklin speaking.  

MR. STONE: (ON PHONE) Hello Osgood, this is Mr. Stone.  

CONKLIN: (OMINOUS) Mr. Stone, eh?

MR. STONE: (ON PHONE) I've instructed a gentleman in our office to deliver 
your plaque just as--

CONKLIN: (INTERRUPTS, SAVAGELY) Oh, pipe down, you ingrate!

CONNIE: Mr. Conklin ...

MR. STONE: What's that? Osgood, I said this is _Mr._ Stone!

CONKLIN: (MOCKING SINGSONG) Mr. Stone, Mr. Stone, Mr. Stone, Mr. Stone. 
(ANGRY) I have to call you Mr. Stone. I'll bet you let Mr. Hargrove call you 
Charlie! Rank discrimination, that's what it is! I've had just about enough of 
you. Goodbye, you -- you-you-you -- you-you-you -- you _FATHEAD_!!!  


CONKLIN: (QUIETLY PLEASED) Well. I guess I told him off, Miss Brooks. There's 
absolutely nothing he can do about it except fire me. If he thinks I'm going 
to grovel at-- (SUDDEN REALIZATION) FIRE ME?!! ... I have a wife and child! 
Look what you made me do!

CONNIE: Who, me?

CONKLIN: Yes, you. I was perfectly content with my little plaque until you 
came in and steamed me up. Now Mr. Stone will have my job. My little family 
will starve. Holy Toledo, look out the window! That man coming up the walk 
with the briefcase. The man Mr. Stone sent over with my plaque. (NERVOUS 
BREAKDOWN) Who wants a plaque or a statue?! All I want is my job! You made me 
[?]. Now you get me out of this! I called Mr. Stone a fatheeeeead!!!

CONNIE: It's possible he'll forgive you for that, sir. You know, Mrs. Davis' 
sister, Angela; she called the druggist some terrible names. And he forgave 
her. Come to think of it, though, she had amnesia at the time.

CONKLIN: Amnesia! That's it. I didn't know what I was saying. I wasn't in my 
right mind.

CONNIE: Oh, now please, Mr. Conklin.  

CONKLIN: It's the only way out.


MR. TURNER: Hello, my name is Turner. Mr. Conklin, I presume?

CONKLIN: (FAKING AMNESIA) Mr. Conklin? Who's Mr. Conklin?

MR. TURNER: Well, I--

CONKLIN: Run along, boy, I've got amnesia. ...

MR. TURNER: Amnesia?

CONKLIN: (TO CONNIE) Tell him, lady.  

CONNIE: Yes sir. Mr. Turner, I'm Miss Brooks.

CONKLIN: (MUMBLES) Brooks, Brooks? Who's Brooks?

CONNIE: I've been taking care of Mr. Conklin here, sir. The amnesia came on 
suddenly; an accident.

MR. TURNER: Oh, I'm sorry.

CONKLIN: Sorry, who's sorry? ...


HARRIET: Excuse me, folks. Will you have lunch with me, Daddy?

CONKLIN: Daddy? Who's Daddy? ....

HARRIET: Daddy?!

CONKLIN: Don't call me Daddy. I never saw you before in my life.

HARRIET: But Daddy--?!

CONKLIN: Daddy? Who's Daddy?

CONNIE: Don't look at me; I'm not Daddy. ...

HARRIET: What's wrong with Daddy, Miss Brooks?

CONNIE: Brooks? Who's Miss Brooks? ... Oh, I am. Sorry. Harriet, your Daddy 
has received a blow on the head.

MR. TURNER: Yes, he has amnesia, child.

HARRIET: Amnesia?!

CONKLIN: Amnesia? Who's amnesia? ...

MR. TURNER: If you'll allow me to use the phone, Miss Brooks, I'll inform the 

CONNIE: They've already been informed. They're picking "Daddy" up in an hour.

HARRIET: Oh, no!

CONNIE: Harriet, later on I will explain how everything happened. Now you go 
have lunch and don't worry.

HARRIET: (NEAR TEARS) All right, Miss Brooks.  


HARRIET: (MOVING OFF) Goodbye, Daddy! O-o-oh, poor Daddy!


CONNIE: You can just leave the plaque here, Mr. Turner. You needn't take it 
back to the Board.  

MR. TURNER: I don't know anything about any board; I just came in here to sell 
a few brushes. ...

CONKLIN: (EXPLODES) Brushes?! Get out, you nincompoop! ...

MR. TURNER: Boy, this guy is wacky all right. You bet I'll get out.  


CONNIE: Well, sorry, Mr. Conklin. I think I'll toddle off to lunch now.

CONKLIN: Not so fast. To be perfectly candid with you, Miss Brooks, I wasn't 
too fond of the amnesia bit. Didn't sound convincing to me.

CONNIE: Nor to me.

CONKLIN: Then I'd advise you to get the old brain working on a totally 
different scheme to clear me with Mr. Stone. Something clever.

CONNIE: Ah, but, sir--

CONKLIN: Think, think. Dream up some nice dirty, juicy plot. Remember, I hold 
you responsible for my present plight. (OMINOUS) So if I'm booted out of this 
school, I'll take you with me.

CONNIE: That's the dirtiest, juiciest plot I ever heard. ...


HARRIET: (CRYING) He didn't even recognize me. Me, his own daughter.  

MRS. DAVIS: My goodness.

BOYNTON: You poor kid.

WALTER: Don't cry, Harriet.  

HARRIET: It was a blow on the head. Miss Brooks said the authorities are gonna 
pick him up in an hour. They're gonna put Daddy away. (SOBS) Oh, it'll not 
only ruin his life, but mine and Mother's as well.

BOYNTON: Gosh, if there were anything we could possibly do to restore his 
memory you could certainly depend on us, Harriet. But we're powerless.

MRS. DAVIS: Wait, I have it! Why not give Mr. Conklin _another_ blow on the 
head? ... That's what cured my sister Angela's amnesia.

BOYNTON: Say, I've heard about that in medical books, Harriet. If a person is 
stricken with amnesia due to a blow on the head, a second blow _does_ 
sometimes restore his memory.

WALTER: Yeah! And you don't have to wait an hour. It's instantaneous. As soon 
as he gets whacked! ...

BOYNTON: It's particularly effective if the blow is delivered by surprise.  

HARRIET: Oh, but I wouldn't want anyone to hit Daddy.

MRS. DAVIS: It's a blow that may mean the happiness of your entire family, 
child. Now, you must be brave. Would you like to give it to him with my 
umbrella, Mr. Boynton? ... It has a mahogany handle. ...

BOYNTON: You'd better leave me out of it, Mrs. Davis. I'm too strong for the 
job. Let Walter do it.

WALTER: No, not me. It's impolite for a student to belt one's own principal.  

MRS. DAVIS: It doesn't have to be impolite, Walter. When Mr. Conklin opens the 
door, just say, "Forgive me, sir." And _then_ belt him.  


BOYNTON: Please, Harriet. If there's one thing that breaks me up, it's the 
crying of a female.

WALTER: I'm the same way. It just tears the heart out of me.  

HARRIET: (SOBBING) You haven't the courage to help poor Daddy. Neither one of 
you. (MORE SOBS)

WALTER: Yeah. (UNCONVINCING) Well, if you folks will excuse me, I - I wanna go 
upstairs and kinda - think a little.

BOYNTON: (UNCONVINCING) Guess I'll take a stroll over to the gym and maybe 
think a little. Uh, goodbye.

MRS. DAVIS: (CURT) Good bye.



MRS. DAVIS: (DISGUSTED) Huh! Men. You just can't depend on 'em. Well, you just 
dry your tears, Harriet. I'll think of something. Now, let me think.


CONKLIN: Think, Miss Brooks.

CONNIE: I'm trying to, sir. How's this? You go home and I'll wait here in your 
office. Now, when Mr. Stone arrives, I'll tell him you haven't been in all day 
and that the person who called him those nasty names on the phone must have 
been a prankster imitating your voice.

CONKLIN: What an idea! I wasn't even here. An impostor impersonating me.  
Splendid, splendid. I'll get out of here befo-- Look! The window. Mr. Stone's 
coming up the walk. Holy cow! If I tried to make a run for it now, he'd see me 
in the hall. I can't go out the door; can't go out the window. What'll I do?

CONNIE: Well, it's a little early for the chimney, Santa, you're trapped.  

CONKLIN: My family's at stake. He mustn't see me here. Wait! I've got it! A 
daring scheme!

CONNIE: Oh, no more schemes, please.

CONKLIN: He won't see me. He can't see me. Not if I render him unconscious 
with a quick, painless whack on the noggin.  

CONNIE: What?! Slug the head of the Board?

CONKLIN: (WITH RELISH) The moment he opens that door. ...

CONNIE: You've lost all sense of reason, Mr. Conklin. When one's hysteria 
carries him to the point of--

CONKLIN: Stand back and be quiet. Ssh! One quick blow and it's all over.  


MR. STONE: Osgood, what's the meaning of--?


CONNIE: You knocked him out -- cold! Oh, I've got to revive him. Wake up, sir, 
wake up. Mr. Conklin, wake up. ... Stand back, Mr. Stone. Maybe if I slap his 
face a bit.


CONNIE: Mr. Conklin? Mr. Conklin?

MR. STONE: Why, that maniac was throwing an uppercut at me! I _had_ to defend 


MR. STONE: Oh. He seems to be regaining consciousness.  

CONKLIN: (WOOZY) Ooh. Ooh, what happened?

CONNIE: (DRYLY) One quick blow and it was all over, Mr. Conklin. ... 

MR. STONE: On your feet! You've got some tall explaining to do, Osgood.  

CONKLIN: Osgood? Who's Osgood? ... Oh, oh, Mr. Stone, Mr. Stone! I was hoping 
you'd drop in, sir. How I missed you! ...

CONNIE: He didn't miss _you_, Daddy. ...

CONKLIN: I, uh, I seem to be missing a tooth.

MR. STONE: Osgood, why did you take a swing at me as I entered this office?

CONKLIN: _Me_, sir?  You're mistaken, Mr. Stone. May I be struck by lightning 
if I--


CONKLIN: It's the door. I'll get it, I'll get it.   


WALTER: Forgive me, sir.


CONNIE: Oh, no! 


CONNIE: Wake up. Mr. Conklin, wake up. Please, sir.

MR. STONE: Denton! Are you in the habit of knocking out your principal?

WALTER: No, sir. This is my lucky day.

MR. STONE: What?! ...


CONKLIN: (MOANS) Oh, what happened?  

CONNIE: You were struck by sixteen-year-old lightning.  

CONKLIN: Good heavens, I seem to be missing a--

CONNIE: Another blow, another tooth. That's life, Mr. Conklin.

MR. STONE: What in the world is going on here?


CONKLIN: There's the door. I - I'll get it.


MRS. DAVIS: Forgive me, Osgood.


CONNIE: Oh, Mrs. Davis, you knocked him out.

MRS. DAVIS: See? It has a mahogany handle. ...

CONNIE: Wake up, Mr. Conklin, wake up, sir.


CONKLIN: (MOANS) Oh, what - what happened?

CONNIE: You've now lost four teeth, sir. Would you like to try for eight?

MR. STONE: I demand an explanation! Osgood?!

CONKLIN: I can't talk now, I'm a sick man. I'm very weak. Goodbye, all; I'm 
going home.  


BOYNTON: Forgive me, sir.


CONNIE: Wake up, wake up, Mr. Boynton. Wake up.

CONKLIN: At least I got in _one_ good lick. ...

BOYNTON: (MOANS) Oh, oh, Mith Brookth, what'th happened?

CONNIE: Don't look now, Mr. Boynton, but all you want for Christmas is your 
two front teeth.


ANNOUNCER: "Our Miss Brooks," starring Eve Arden, transcribed, is produced and 
directed by Larry Berns, written by Joe Quillan with the music of Wilbur 
Hatch. Mr. Conklin was played by Gale Gordon. Others in tonight's cast were 
Jane Morgan, Dick Crenna, Bob Rockwell, Gloria McMillan and Mary Jane Croft. 
This is Wendell Niles, inviting you to be with us again next Sunday at this 
same time for another comedy episode of "Our Miss Brooks." 

Originally broadcast: 11 October 1953