Script

You the piano teacher in town?

Why, yes.

Then you must know about this fellow Hill formin' a boys band here.

Yes...

Well, don't let it worry you no more. I got the goods on him in spades. Swindlin' two-bit thimble rigger. I'm just passin' through. Number eight only makes a fifteen minute water stop.

Who are you?

Name's Charlie Cowell - anvil salesman

(HE drops suitcase we hear HUGE "Anvil" shifting inside)

But just now I'm out to protect the good name of the travelin' fraternity from this swindler.

Mr. Crowell, you're making a big mistake.

Mistake my old lady's corset-cover! That fella's been the raspberry seed in my wisdom tooth just long enough. He spoiled Illinois for me and he's not gonna spoil Iowa! Say, what kind of music teacher are you, you didn't see through him? He's no more Professor -

I know all about that. Band leaders are always called Professor. It's a harmless deception. He's a fine director and his scholastic -

Now wait a minute. Fine director? Have you heard one note a'music from any band?

No, but -

But nuthin', girly-girl! He never formed a band in his life! And he never will!

(Train whistle is heard)

You'll never make that train at the depot. You'll have to catch it at the crossing.

No sir. I've got to leave word. And I can see you ain't the one to leave it with.

I never met a man who sells anvils. That's something - well - quite different.

(Train whistle is heard.)

Takes a real salesman, I can tell you that. Anvils have a limited appeal you know. What am I doin'? I miss that train I'll get fired! And I got to leave word about that fellow Hill!

Leave word with me.

Not on your tintype! How do I know you'd deliver these letters?

Try me.

(Grabbing his lapels. SHE plants her lips on his. It is a long kiss. The train whistle and bell grows louder...SHE struggles free, wipes her mouth in disgust, points Left)

There's your train! Now run for it!

Why you double-dealing little - who do you think you're protecting? That guy's got a girl in every county in Illinois -- and that's 102 counties -- not counting the piano teachers like you he cozies up to, to keep their mouths shut! Neither one of you's heard the last of me, girly-girl!