Hey, it's time for...
All Sweet!
Did you hear what the lady said?
I said, All Sweet!
All Sweet is the margarine with the delicate, natural flavor.
Yes, friends, that's what all the ladies are saying.
All Sweet!
The margarine with the delicate, natural flavor.
Swift's All Sweet Margarine invites you to...
Meet the Meats!
Today, at the offices of Walter J. Barker, we find Mortimer Meek happily working away.
Although the five o'clock whistle has long since blown.
And in closing, Mr. Barker, I can only suggest that if you would go to the dictionary and look up the words
kindness and gentleness, you would not be the most hated employer in Civic Center,
if not, indeed, in America.
I guess that's telling him.
I've...
Oh, Mortimer, what's going on here?
Huh?
Well, what in the world's the matter with you, dear?
Oh, Agatha, first I thought you were Mr. Barker.
I didn't want him to see this letter.
I've been waiting downstairs since five o'clock to drive you home.
Why are you still here in the office?
Oh, my gracious, honey, I'm so sorry.
I forgot.
And besides, Mr. Barker gave me such a bad time today.
I just had to stay and write him this letter to get it off my chest.
But Mortimer, why do you have to write him a letter when you see him every day?
This is the type of thing that's better in a letter, believe me.
Read it, Agatha.
Mortimer, if we don't get started, I'll be late getting dinner.
It'll only take a minute, dear.
Now go on, read it.
Go ahead.
Take it out of the typewriter.
Very well.
Mr. Barker, here's a suggestion from an employee.
Whoever told you, you could run an organization.
Believe me, if it weren't for your employees, you'd been out of business years ago.
Why, Mortimer...
Read on, Agatha, read on.
You are the dumbest, most opinionated man who ever lived.
Yes.
Mortimer, are you resigning from Barker & Company?
No, Agatha, I am not.
Well, Mr. Barker will fire you when he reads this.
Oh, no, he won't, dear.
Why not?
Because he's not going to read it.
You mean you're not going to mail it?
That's right.
Or put it in the suggestion box there on the wall?
No.
Then why did you write it?
Just to blow off steam, Agatha.
The fellow has to express himself some way.
Oh, Mortimer.
Yes, well, I told him off a lot of times in letters.
Of course, I always tear him up.
But it makes a fellow feel better to get it out of his system.
All right, dear, now that you've got it out of your system,
tear it up and let's go home so I can put dinner on the table.
Now, see, you know, Agatha, I don't think I'll tear this one up.
No, sir, it's too good.
It's a masterpiece.
I think I'll just take it home and save it to look at in the future,
whenever I feel blue.
All right, dear, put it in your briefcase and let's go.
Now, just fold it up like this and put it in with the rest of my papers.
Mortimer, why don't you get that briefcase fixed?
The seam has come loose on one side.
I wonder your papers don't all fall out.
Don't worry, dear, never lost a thing yet.
Come on, dear, come on.
Off we go into the blue sky, under, fly high.
Look out, Mortimer.
Daddy, where are you?
Oh, gracious, Mr. Barker, I'm sorry.
Mortimer, it isn't Mr. Barker, it's the janitor.
Eh? Oh, excuse me, Mr. Francesca, I thought you were Mr. Barker.
Well, it's not going to be Mr. Barker.
I've got a big enough voice, you know.
Yes, well, we're just leaving so you can clean up the office in peace and quiet.
Goodbye, Mr. Francesca.
Goodbye, Mr. Francesca. See you again.
Yeah, goodbye, mister, goodbye, lady.
Well, it's like cleaning the floor in a gym.
Once over the floor, I push the blue.
Under the carpet, I push the dirt.
Carasposa, what's this?
Look what fall on the floor when the little guy bump into me.
A piece of notepaper.
Eh? Let me see what it says.
To Walter J. Barker.
Uh-huh, the big boss.
Here is a suggestion.
Oh, this must be for the suggestion box.
I think I do a favor for the little guy.
I put the paper in the suggestion box.
There she go. That's nice.
Big boss, he got a nice suggestion.
Little guy, he get a nice raise.
Francesca make everybody happy. That's a nice.
You know, there are two schools of thought on whether or not wishing will make it so.
Some folks say yes, while others claim that's all the bunk.
Well, whatever the case may be, if you've been wishing hard and long for some way to cut budget costs, here's your answer.
Begin using AllSweet margarine today.
And listen, when you use AllSweet, you're economizing a new and pleasant way.
You see, usually when you cut down expenses, you have to sacrifice something.
But AllSweet saves you money and brings you delicious, nutritious goodness at the same time.
Yes, Swift and Company maintains a rigid control over the fine ingredients and methods that produce AllSweet.
That's why AllSweet has the same delicate, natural flavor,
the same abundance of gran nutrition every day of every year.
What's more, every savory pound of AllSweet is fortified with at least 15,000 units of important vitamin A.
Try AllSweet in your favorite recipes as a delicious and nourishing table spread
and melting over piping hot vegetables, especially baked potatoes.
Yes, economizing is pleasant when you use AllSweet.
The Margarine with the Delicate Natural Flavor
Well, Miss Meek, I just dropped by your house to tell you I've got that new typewriter you ordered for your girls club.
Oh gee, that's swell, Mr. Simpson. How about it, Jill?
You mean the new rapid rider to take the place of our old one?
That's right. I just wanted to be sure you had the old one here at your house. That is all.
Oh sure, it's right here waiting for you.
Well, I'll stop by here later this afternoon with a new one and I'll pick up the old one.
Bring out the old and bring in the new.
Isn't it true? Okay girls, I'll see you later.
Bye.
Well, the girls club certainly owes us a vote of thanks, Jill.
At least they won't have to pound that broken down old rapid rider that Bertie Barker donated.
I wonder what it'll feel like to type our club bulletin without candy tapes on all my fingers.
Hello, Louie. I'm sorry we're late.
Hi, Louie.
What kept you, sis? I've been home fifteen minutes and no dinner on the table. It's a fine thing.
Now don't worry, Louie. It'll be on the table in plenty of time. You two better wash up.
I've got to run over to Angie Wilson's house. I'm going to take the car.
I'm already washed. Old man Higgins was sprinkling his lawn and I accidentally walked through it.
Put this briefcase on my desk, will you, Louie, while I go and wash up.
Okay, Morty. Hey, there's some papers falling out of this thing.
You can't get them, Louie.
Too late.
Say, why don't you get that briefcase sewed up or something, Morty?
Give me a hand, Louie. Some of these papers are important.
Well, if they are, then I bet you've left a trail of important papers all the way from Main Street to Elm Street.
Well, what? You think so, Louie? Say, wait a minute. Let me see if I've got everything.
Okay, here.
Inventory of the Fourth of July, August, September. It's on.
Petty cash expenditures, August and September.
All right. Yes, I got everything, Louie. Everything, if any, but...
What's the matter, Morty?
The letter.
What letter?
My poison pen letter.
What?
The letter I wrote to Mr. Barker telling him what I think of him. It's gone.
What you really think of him, you mean?
Oh, my gracious. It's gone.
Maybe it's still in the briefcase.
Let me see. Let me see.
Huh? Ain't nothing in there, Morty, but air.
Oh, it's empty.
Louie, come on, quick. We've got to look for that letter.
Oh, we can't take the car. Maggie's got it.
All right, then we'll go on foot or on the bus. Come on, come on.
Morty, we ain't even had dinner.
Louie, if that letter ever falls into Barker's hands, there won't be any more dinners. Come on.
Come on.
Yeah, the letter sure isn't here at the office. I've been over every foot of it.
Oh, stop worrying, Morty. If you can't find it, how would it fall into Barker's hands?
Well, I guess you're right there. It probably fell out of the briefcase and blew down the street.
Somebody picked it up and threw it in the rubbish.
Now it's burned to ashes.
And nobody will ever see it.
Well, I'm glad we disposed of that, sir, you see.
Only, what if we're wrong?
Oh, forget it, Morty. Forget it.
Well, but what if Mr. Barker's Mr. Barker's Mr. Barker's?
Put your eyes back in your head, Morty. If it isn't Mr. Barker, it's the janitor.
Oh. Oh, hello, Mr. Francesca. I thought you were Mr. Barker.
Every time you see me, you think I'm Mr. Barker.
Yes.
You ever see Mr. Barker wind the clock?
No, Mr. Francesca.
You ever see Mr. Barker order the lock?
No, Mr. Francesca.
You ever see Mr. Barker toss the stock?
No, Mr. Francesca.
Okay. Then I'm going out the bank. I'm Francesca.
I just come in to see if everything is okay.
Yep. Everything is okay. That's right. Everything is okay.
Okay. Good night, pleasant dream, and see you tomorrow.
Oh, oh, by the way, Francesca, you didn't happen to find a letter on the floor.
A letter addressed to Mr. Barker, did you?
Oh, Schuze. I picked up a letter off the floor.
You did?
Schuze. I pulled him up and put him in the suggestion box.
Good night.
Good night, Mr. Francesca.
Well, Louis, everything is all right then.
He put it in, he put it in, he put it in.
Oh, my great Louis.
I heard him morning.
Yes, it's in the suggestion box.
I know it.
Oh, Mr. Barker always opens it himself in the morning.
Come on, let's get it out of the suggestion box.
This is it, right here on the wall.
This is the suggestion box?
Yes. Come on, Louis. Help me. Help me.
Well, you'll never get anything out of there.
That's like a steel safe and padlocked aside.
Yes, I know, and Barker keeps the key on his person at all times.
You'll never get it out of there.
But I've got to, Louis. I've just got to.
When he finds that letter, he'll...
How did he know it's yours, Morty? Did you sign it?
Oh, of course I didn't sign it. I never sign my poison pen letters.
Does he know you're handwriting?
It isn't handwritten, it's typed.
Well, then how did he know it's yours?
Well, he'll trace it. He'll match the type on the letter with every typewriter in the office.
And there's only one old rapid writer like mine around the place.
Louis, we've just got to break open the suggestion box.
Why not just throw the typewriter in the river? It'd be easier.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
That old rapid writer that Peggy's girls club has, the one that Peggy keeps at the house.
What about it?
Well, it looks just like this one, Louis. The type is different, but it looks the same.
Well...
Don't you get it, Louis? Don't you get it?
No, let me sit down here on your desk and think about it.
Look out, Louis. You're going to sit on that spindle.
Oh!
Morty.
Yeah, Louis?
I got it. Let's go.
Here, I'll open the door for you, Morty.
Yeah, thank you.
Boy, does this work.
Okay, Morty, just put the typewriter down on the dining room table.
Yeah. Whew. I've got the rest of the minute to catch my breath.
Gosh, Morty, Agatha's not back from Angie Wilson's yet with the car.
That means you'll have to take this typewriter back on the bus, too.
Might as well get started. Now, where is that other typewriter? A peg?
Right there, Morty, on the typing table.
Oh, thanks a lot.
Here, I'll open the front door for you.
Don't strain yourself.
Don't worry, I won't.
I still don't see why you couldn't have carried it on the bus instead of me. You had a seat.
I'm telling you, for the last time, Morty, I didn't want to get the press out of my pants.
But it only means more work for Agatha, and I'm not that inconsiderate.
Well, here's your new typewriter, girl. Where should I put it?
Just put it right there on the typing table, Mr. Simpson.
Okay. Oh. There we are. Now, will you sign this receipt, please?
All right, sure. Give me your pencil, will you, dear?
There you are, pal.
There. Now, where's your old typewriter?
There it is on the dining room table.
Dining room table? I didn't leave it there. I guess Mother must have moved it.
Say, is this the same typewriter you showed me before?
I sure it's the same one.
Looks like an older model than I thought it was.
No, it's the same one, all right.
Rapid writer. Yep, I guess you're right. I guess I see so many typewriters in one day, I'd just get them all mixed up.
Well, oh, here goes. Open the door for me, will you, girl?
Oh, I'll get them, Peg.
I'll send you the bill for the difference in the morning. See you later.
Later, I guess.
Oh, gee, sure is going to be fun to type on this machine. It's a beauty.
Not like that old rattle trap Mrs. Barker donated to us.
Peggy, what system do you use?
Hutton Tats?
No, Jill, I use the touch system.
Touch system?
Yeah. Every time I do a letter for Daddy, I touch him for a dollar.
Oh, gosh, that bus is a long time coming.
I'm getting tired of waiting.
You're getting tired. How do you think I feel carrying your typewriter?
Oh, gee, Morty, I'm sorry. Why didn't you tell me you were that tired?
Oh, now don't tell me you're going to carry it.
No, I was just going to tell you to put it down on this keep the city clean bus.
Oh, thank you, Louis. You're a great help.
That a boy, Morty, that a boy. Save your strength. You'll need it for the long walk up the stairs to your office.
Hey, who's that guy coming along the street? I've seen him somewhere before.
Oh, that's the janitor at Mr. Barker's office, Mr. Francesca.
Oh, that's the guy who puts your letter in the suggestion box, ain't it?
Yeah. Hello, Mr. Francesca.
Well, that's nice, sir, which is not my friend, Mr. Me.
Yeah. Well, I'm awake.
You're awake?
I'm awake.
You awake? You awake for what?
Wait for you to jump and say, Mr. Barker.
That's good.
Two times today you think I'm Mr. Barker. You know, I think you work too hard, Mr. Me.
Yeah. Well, maybe if Mr. Barker do what you say in the note I put in suggestion box, maybe it don't work so hard, huh?
Yeah. Maybe I don't work at all, Francesca.
Oh, good. I hope so.
Here comes the bus, Morty. So long, Francesca.
Goodbye, Mr. Francesca.
Goodbye. Goodbye. Maybe you do me a favor from the time of trouble.
Sure. We'll do him a good favor sometime, like burn his house down.
Yeah.
You better get out first this time, Morty. I'll take care of everything.
Oh, well, thanks, Louis. I need a little rest.
Come on. Let's go.
Yeah. All right. All right. We're coming. Take it easy now. Going in the door, Louis.
Don't worry. A lot of things, Morty. Don't worry. A lot of things.
Okay. Come on. Let's go.
Yeah. All right. Let me see. Two dimes. Here we are. One and two.
Now, come on, Louis. Follow me down the aisle. There's two seats in the middle there.
Go ahead, Morty. I'm right behind you.
Yeah.
Hey, it's good to sit down.
Yeah, it sure is.
Well, anyhow, it doesn't matter anymore now. When we get this typewriter or Peggy's in the office,
Barker will never be able to trace the letter and everything will be all right.
Yeah. I guess you're right.
Louis?
Hmm?
Where'd you put the typewriter? On the floor?
The what?
The typewriter. Where is it?
Gosh, I don't know, Morty.
Oh, did you? What?
For Louis. Well, didn't you carry it on the bus?
Why, no.
But, Louis, I distinctly heard you tell me to get on first, that you'd take care of everything.
I meant I'd pay the dimes, Morty, and then get them back from you.
But I heard you puffing and snorting behind me when we got on the bus like you were carrying it.
Listen, if you had to carry my weight, you'd snort and puff, too.
You, you moron. You left the typewriter back on the keep the city clean box.
Hey, stop the bus. Stop the bus. It's a matter of life and death.
What do you mean, life and death?
I'm going to put my brother-in-law to death, even if I get life for it.
Oh, boy, somebody sure walked away with that typewriter fast, didn't they?
Yeah, what else you expect, you fathead?
Leaving it right out there on the street in the open?
Typewriter's good as gold these days.
Yeah, that's right, that's right. Blame me for everything.
I suppose I held your hand while you wrote that dirty note to Mr. Parker.
You're all right, Louis, you're all right.
That's the typewriter shop.
I'm lucky it's still open. Louis, pray for me.
I won't do it, Marty. After the way you spoke to me, I'm not going to help you.
Well, gentlemen, what can I do for you?
Oh, well, look, Mr. Simpson.
Yeah, Mr. Simpson, it's a matter of life and death. I've just got to rent a typewriter.
A matter of life and death?
Yeah, now please, I'll pay any amount you want, but I've just got to have a typewriter now.
Well, what kind of typewriter do you need?
It has to be a rapid writer, the kind of, well, a kind of an old model.
Rapid writer? Say, I've got the very thing.
You have?
That's right. I just took an old rapid writer from a couple of young girls
and traded for a brand new one just a few minutes ago, and here it is right here.
Well, say, that's swell.
Why, that looks exactly like the one I'm trying to replace, doesn't it, Louis?
It must be a twin to the one you had at your office.
Well, Mr. Simpson, I'll take it. Hey, well, what do I owe you?
Well, $5 now and $3 for every month you want to keep it.
Oh, well, and I'd say the whole thing will blow over in about a month if I know Mr. Parker.
Mr. Parker?
Yes, he's my boss.
He's going to read something tomorrow morning and he'll hit the ceiling.
Oh?
When he comes down, I'll return this typewriter.
Yeah!
Say, just think of all the advantages we Americans enjoy.
Freedom of speech, freedom to come and go as we please,
and right up there high on the list the privilege of walking into a grocery store
and having all kinds of fine foods to choose from.
Of course, the very fact that there are so many foods to choose from
makes most American shoppers pretty choosy.
For instance, AllSweet is the first choice of most particular folks
because of its delicate, natural flavor.
And AllSweet is so amazingly economical that you can be positively extravagant with its wonderful goodness.
Use AllSweet to enhance the flavor of your favorite recipes.
Use it to give a mouth-watering goodness to piping hot vegetables, baked potatoes,
or pancakes, waffles, and hot biscuits.
Use it to make velvety, smooth cream sauce.
And remember, all the while you're savoring AllSweet's delicate, natural flavor,
you're getting lots of fine nourishment, too.
Yes, every glorious pound of AllSweet is fortified with at least 15,000 units of precious vitamin A.
Yes, ma'am, there are lots of reasons why it's smart to buy AllSweet,
the margarine with the delicate, natural flavor.
Hey, Walter J. Barker and Company.
Hello, Mortimer.
Oh, hello, dear. What can I do for you?
Mortimer, has Mr. Barker opened the suggestion box yet?
Yes, yes, he did, Agatha. He came in here a few minutes ago,
opened it, and took the three or four notes that were in it into the office next door to read.
Has he read yours?
No, he hasn't, Agatha.
How do you know he hasn't?
Because he's as quiet in there as a little mouse.
Yes, Agatha.
Hi, dear Mortimer.
The mouse has read it.
Oh, no.
I'd better hang up dear before he blows down the telephone lines. Goodbye now.
Meek!
Yes, Mr. Barker.
What was this doing in the suggestion box?
What, Mr. Barker?
This libel, this slander.
Libel, slander?
The coward, the low, down, back, biting, sneaking coward
who would write a thing like this and then not have the decency of a man who designed it.
But I'll find a snake in the grass.
You will?
You bet I'll find him.
Especially if the slander was written on one of the office typewriters.
Oh, you mean by comparing the typeface of each typewriter with the typing on a note?
Exactly.
That is a brilliant idea, Mr. Barker.
And when I find the insect to...
Well, what are you doing, Meek?
I'm putting paper into my typewriter so you can test it.
Test it?
Yes, so you can see whether or not I was the one who wrote the letter.
You?
That's funny. That's very funny.
It is?
You wouldn't have the nerve to think the things in this letter, much less put them on paper.
No, Meek, I'm sure you didn't write this.
Well, you're welcome to test my typewriter, Mr. Barker.
I start testing the machine at the other end of the office, Meek.
And when I find the poison pen artist who wrote this, I'll add to that letter personally.
You can't treat how, Mr. Barker.
With just three words, Meek.
Three words?
You are fired.
I am?
Not you.
That's what I'll say to the person who wrote this letter.
After I've annihilated him.
This isn't fair, Peggy.
Of course it isn't fair, Jill. But what can we do about it?
Well, what exactly did Mrs. Barker say when she telephoned you?
She said she hadn't donated her old typewriter to the girls club. She just loaned it to us.
And she wants it back right away.
That means we'll have to turn the new typewriter back to Mr. Simpson
and have him return Mrs. Barker's old rapidwriter to us.
Let's hope he still has Mrs. Barker's typewriter.
Of course he'll still have it. He just got it from us last night.
Here's Mr. Simpson's store.
Well, well, well, well, well. Hello there, young lady.
Hello, Mr. Simpson.
What can I do for you?
And Mr. Simpson, we can't buy that new typewriter from you.
You what?
You'll just have to take it back, Mr. Simpson.
Oh, but...
And you'll have to give us back the old rapidwriter we turned in on the new machine.
Oh, I'm awfully sorry to hear that because giving you back the old machine is not so easy.
Oh, why not?
Because I have not got it.
Haven't got it?
No.
Hello, where is it?
I rented it out, yes, to a little fellow who came in here last night.
Now, let me see. What was his name?
He signed it on a receipt. Let me see. I've got it filed right here.
I hope he keeps my receipt somewhere in here.
Here they are. Here we are. Here's the receipt.
Oh, may I see it, Mr. Simpson?
Yes, his name is signed right there at the bottom. Look, see it?
Peggy. Peggy, look at that name.
More, him or me?
That's the man, all right.
Oh, Father. Why would your father want to rent a typewriter, Peg?
I don't know, but come on.
Where are we going?
To Father's office. We've got to get that machine.
Father! Father!
Peggy!
Father!
There it is, Peg!
Peggy, wait a minute. What's the meaning of this?
You shouldn't come breaking into my office this way.
Father, we've got to have it.
Have what?
The typewriter.
The one on your desk, Mr. Meek.
What in the world are you two talking about?
That typewriter belongs to Mrs. Barker, Father, and we've got to get it back to her.
Belongs to Mrs. Barker? Oh, nonsense.
No, it isn't nonsense, Father. You rented that machine for Mr. Simpson.
Well?
Well, Mr. Simpson got it for us.
What?
Yes, it's a trade-in on a new typewriter who we were going to buy for the girls' club.
He picked it up at our house last night.
Well, what if he did pick it up? What did you say?
Did you say that Mr. Simpson picked this machine up at our house?
Yes, Father and so.
Oh, my gracious.
Father, Father, what's the matter?
Oh, I've got to try it. I've got to try it.
Now, now is the time for all good men to come to the ages.
Oh, good heavens, I'm more than meek.
Peggy, Peggy, this isn't Bernie Barker's typewriter.
Not Mrs. Barker's, but it must be, Father.
It's got to be.
But it isn't. It's the same one that's been in my office all the time.
The one that the letter was written on.
The letter? What letter, Father?
Meek!
Oh, never mind. Here comes Mr. Barker. Now, you girls go into the next office.
What about Father?
Hurry, Peggy, hurry, hurry.
All right, Father, come on.
You're okay, Peg, but I'd like to know what we're going to do now.
So would I.
Well, Meek?
Yes, Mr. Barker?
I've tried every typewriter in the office and compared them with the type in the letter.
And not one of them match.
This typewriter of yours is the only one I haven't tested.
Yes, sir.
But since you were so anxious for me to test it before, it obviously isn't the one.
Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir.
That would be kind of silly for me to test it, wouldn't it?
Why? Oh, yes, sir. Yes, it'd be very silly.
Ridiculous.
And ridiculous.
And pointless.
But I think I'll test it anyway.
But, Mr. Barker?
Give me a piece of paper, please.
Yes, sir, yes, sir. Here you are.
Here I go.
Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their party.
Ah!
Yes! I'll see you later, Mr. Barker.
So, you are the sneaking cowardly author of this letter.
You...
No, no, no, no, no, no. Mr. Barker, you shouldn't let that letter body you show.
Remember the old saying, sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.
In that case, Meek, you'll feel no pain when I tell you that you are fired.
Yes, sir.
Before you go, I've got a few suggestions to make to you of all this...
Don't you move while I answer the phone.
Understand?
Yes, sir.
Hello.
Walter Barker speaking.
Oh.
Hello, Betty, dear.
What?
Here at the office?
And I'm to bring you home?
Yes, dear.
All right, dear.
Goodbye, Duckie.
That was Duckie.
I mean, Mrs. Barker.
Oh, yes.
Yes.
Oh, yes, dear.
Yes, sir.
Mrs. Barker.
Meek.
Yes, sir?
Why didn't you tell me that your daughter and her friend were doing it?
Boy, you see...
You're playing my wife.
Clean it up.
Bernie just told me that the message at your house is for your daughter to bring a Rapid
Writer.
She loaned the girl's club here to the office.
Oh, I wouldn't even...
And for me to bring it home tonight.
You should have told me that it was my wife's handwriting, not yours.
Your wife?
I left you with a little secret.
Bernie must have written that letter on this machine herself.
Well, none of my employees would compose a thing like that about me, would they?
Yes, sir, a great little kidder, Bertie.
Yes, sir, a great little kidder.
Oh, she certainly is.
I probably dropped a letter in the suggestion box when she came up to the office yesterday.
You really think so?
That's the only explanation.
If this is Bertie's typewriter and the letter was written on it, then she wrote it.
She did?
About this in the meeting.
Yes, Mr. Barton.
I'm not going to give Bertie the satisfaction of knowing I saw this letter.
Understand?
Yes, sir.
It's going to be kept a secret between you and me.
Yes, sir.
Never a word about it to anyone, understand?
And especially not a word to Bertie.
Oh, you can depend on me, Mr. Barker.
I'll never say a word to anyone.
See that you don't.
Now, forget about being fired.
I'll get back to work.
Thank you, Mr. Barker.
Don't mention it.
By the way, me.
Yes, Mr. Barker.
If this is Bertie's typewriter, where is yours?
Mine?
Well, you see, that is to say...
Mr. Meeker!
Huh?
Oh, hello, Mr. Francesca.
Mr. Meeker, bring you back to your typewriter.
My typewriter?
Oh, there it is, Amy.
It's being repaired, eh?
Why didn't you say so?
Well, I...
I've been in my office for the rest of the afternoon, meek, in conference with myself.
Yes, sir.
Where should I put the typewriter, Mr. Meek?
It's right here on the desk.
Okay.
Mr. Francesca, where did you get my typewriter?
On the keep of the city cleaner box.
Oh.
Rather, where you leave him last night than when you get on the bus.
Oh, my goodness, that's right.
You were at the bus stop.
I forgot.
That's right.
You forgot.
I forgot.
So I take the typewriter to my house and I'm bringing him back to you.
And please, Mr. Meeker, don't forget him no more.
No.
That typewriter, he's too heavy to carry.
Motherfucker, he'll give me a plane in the back.
Yes.
I know exactly how you feel, Mr. Francesca.
It gave me a pain, too.
In the back?
In the back.
In the neck.
A book I read recently described the heroin as being delicate and strikingly beautiful.
So naturally I nicknamed the little lady Allsweet.
Allsweet margarine has a flavor that's wonderfully delicate and natural.
And glorious golden Allsweet melting over piping hot waffles or hot cakes is indeed
a sight that's strikingly beautiful.
But of course, the real popularity of Allsweet lies in its many marvelous uses, its grand
economy, and its nourishing goodness.
Yes, whether you're preparing a favorite dish or just bread and bread from crust to crust,
Allsweet makes any eaten stay a mighty fine one.
And here's something else good to know.
If you live in one of the states whose laws permit the sale of colored margarine, you
can now buy yellow Allsweet in solid or quartered pounds.
But whether you buy yellow or white, ask for Allsweet, the margarine with the delicate
natural flavor.
Meet the Meats, stars Forrest Lewis and Burrell Bond.
Today's script was written by Sherman Marks and directed and produced by Les Weinrott.
Be sure to join us over these same stations next Saturday when Allsweet, the margarine
with the delicate natural flavor, again invites you to Meet the Meats.
This is John Weigel speaking.
This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.