A Message To America. Dr. Hinge: Good morning, Hilda. Dame Hilda: Hello, dear, have you poured me a cup of coffee out? Dr. Hinge: We're having tea this morning. Dame Hilda: Oh, yes, of course. I'd forgotten that Maud broke the coffee pot Dr. Hinge: Though I don't see why we couldn't have made coffee in the tea pot. Dame Hilda: Well, it's not quite the same, Evadne. Anyway, suppose someone had called, wouldn't have looked very nice, you know, coffee in a tea pot. Dr. Hinge: I don't remember ever having visitors at breakfast time. Dame Hilda: The postman calls. Dr. Hinge: Well, he doesn't exactly stay to breakfast, does he? Dame Hilda: Aren't you feeling too good, dear? You’ve hardly touched your kipper. Dr. Hinge: I have a headache. Dame Hilda: Well, I'm sorry, dear, but you were a little greedy with that whiskey marmalade yesterday. Dr. Hinge: What whiskey marmalade? Dame Hilda: You remember, it was a small pot, sent to us in a little gift wrapped box. Dr. Hinge: No, I don't remember. Dame Hilda: No, come to think of it, I ate it all. Dr. Hinge: Actually, I slept rather badly, now, you were saying the postman called? Dame Hilda: Yes, but only to deliver the letters. Dr. Hinge: I see, anything interesting? Dame Hilda: I don't know, dear, I put them on the sideboard, here they are. Dr. Hinge: Oh, quite a bundle today, dear. Dame Hilda: Yes, bill, bill, bill, those are for you, dear. Dr. Hinge: Oh, look, I think this is a letter from Maud, it's got a Yarmouth postmark, I Wonder why she's written, I hope she's not in trouble. Dr. Hinge: She's probably broken the pier, dear! Dame Hilda: Let me see, oh Maud dear, your spelling and punctuation were never your strong point at all. Having a nice time here in Great Yarmouth. The weather is nice, and the boarding house is nice, and the food is nice, and the woman what runs it is called Mrs. Garside, and she is very nice, and her husband is nice, and him and Arthur get on well because he was in the army like Arthur was, which is nice. Dr. Hinge: Take a breath, you'll collapse! Dame Hilda: Arthur's legs are no better, so tomorrow I'm going to take him paddling in the sea. What I say is, what's good enough for Red Rum is good enough for my Arthur. Dr. Hinge: Does that mean she’s thinking of entering him for next years Grand National? Dame Hilda: I doubt it dear, oh, dear, now, what do you think this word is Evadne? Dr. Hinge: Let me see, oh philanthropy. Dame Hilda: Are you sure? Dr. Hinge: Yes, it’s quite distinct, dear, philanthropy. Dame Hilda: Oh, very well then, we went to the pictures last night with philanthropy, ha, ha, ha! I've got it, I’ve got it! Dr. Hinge: Yes? Dame Hilda: We went to the pictures last night with Phil and Phoebe, it was a very good film called Star Wozz, very exciting, I think it was something to do with a submarine, but I couldn't understand why they had a talking dustbin I must go now as Arthur is asleep on the beach and the tide’s coming in. From your obedient servant Maud, isn’t that nice, dear? Oh PS Remember me, to the Doctor. Dr. Hinge: I'm not likely to forget her, dear? Dame Hilda: Isn’t Star Wars the film that's broken all records, dear. Dr. Hinge: If Maud’s got anything to do with it I wouldn't be at all surprised. Who's the other letter from Hilda? Dame Hilda: Ooh, look! Air mail from America. Dr. Hinge: Oh, Hollywood probably wants Maud for a remake of Moby Dick. Dame Hilda: No it's from Barbara and Frank. I think you’ll have to read it dear, her writing's so spider like. Dr. Hinge: Dear Dame Hilda and Evadne. Oh, she doesn't call me Doctor. Dame Hilda: Well, you know what these Americans are, they don't stand on ceremony. Dr. Hinge: But she called you, Dame Hilda. Dame Hilda: Well, you know these Americans, they love titles. Dr. Hinge: Yes, Anyway, she's just thanking us for a wonderful stay here, and then... Oh, this is interesting, I've been telling my folks about you, how you're singing is unbelievable, Dame Hilda: I'm not sure I know what she means by unbelievable. Dr. Hinge: Indeed! Yes, so could you put a couple of songs on tape and send it to me real {reel?}soon? Dame Hilda: Of course we can, what a good idea. Dr. Hinge: A bit more Hilda, also, could you tape that poem about America, the one your local headmistress wrote in honour of our visit? Dame Hilda: Oh, dear, now there's a problem, well, I threw it away. Dr. Hinge: Well, I'm sure Daphne Primley will have another copy, she does everything in triplicate. Dame Hilda: Yes, I think her mother was frightened by a civil servant. Dr. Hinge: Another thing, dear, we must try to borrow a tape recorder. Dame Hilda: No problem there, dear, we can borrow Constable Bolsover’s, you know, the one he uses for the dramatic societies sound effects. Dr. Hinge: Oh, splendid, dear, well, I'll tell you what, let's go round to the police station to see George, It's a lovely morning, you know, and we do need to call at the shop for a few things. Dame Hilda: Righto dear, I'll get our coats. {Police station.}
Dame Hilda: Constable! Constable Bolsover, hello, cooee, are you there, George? Dr. Hinge: The place is deserted, dear. Dame Hilda: Well, you know what they say about Policemen, dear, they're never around when you want them. Dr. Hinge: Oh, I say, Hilda, now, look at this on the counter, a file marked top secret, confidential and private. Dame Hilda: Ooh, let's have a look inside it. Dr. Hinge: Hilda, we shouldn't. Dame Hilda: Yes, you’re right probably contains the tickets for the cricket club dance. {Phone rings.} Dr. Hinge: Oh, Hilda, the phone's ringing. Dame Hilda: Well, answer it dear. Dr. Hinge: Oh, I daren’t it might be Interpol or something. Dame Hilda: Oh, give it to me. Hello. Whitehall 1-2-1-2? Chief Policewoman Bracket... Oh, hello, Mr. Flathers, Dame Hilda here, dear... no, no, he's popped out for a minute, but, well, can I take a message? Right, fire away... yes, suspicious youth... car park... opposite the library, yes... red trousers, yes... yellow shirt... green jacket… ginger hair...carrying a roll of brown lino, oh, yes, well, I mean, it could be anybody, couldn’t it?... yes, well, I'll tell him. and if he doesn't come back, I'll phone the yard. Bye bye, dear, oh, it love to Florence, I say, its just like being in the Sweeney. Constable: Dum, de, dum! Dame Hilda: Oh, here he is. Constable: Hello, Hilda. Evadne, good morning to you. Dr. Hinge: Good morning, George. Dame Hilda: Good morning, George. We've only been here a couple of minutes. Constable: Well, I've just slipped out for a sandwich. Dame Hilda: Yes, I can see the froth on your moustache. Dr. Hinge: And there's been a very important phone call George. Dame Hilda: Yes, I've written the details on this piece of paper. Constable: Oh, thank you, Hilda, just put it in that tray marked urgent would you, I'll deal with it next week. Anyway, to what do I owe this visit? Dr. Hinge: Well, George, could we borrow your tape recorder? Constable: Of course you can, just one snag, it's been stolen. Dr. Hinge: Oh dear. Constable: Oh, don't worry, the dramatic society have a spare one, we can use that. Dame Hilda: Splendid! Constable: And as its a bit heavy, I’ll bring it round to your house. Dr. Hinge: Thank you, George. Constable: I'll go and fetch it now. Dame Hilda: But George, who's going to look after the police station? Constable: Oh, there's always somebody passing who’ll answer the phone. Dame Hilda: Err, but no, I mean, you see, don't think I'm trying to tell you your job, George, but should you leave this file out, marked, confidential and top-secret? Constable: Ah, well, you're right, yes, better lock that in the safe, there the tickets for the cricket club dance. {Music room.} Constable: Now, Hilda, what are we recording? Human voice, piano, or the wireless, gramophone records. Dame Hilda: Does it make any difference? Constable: No. Dr. Hinge: Hilda and I are going to record one of our songs to send to Barbara. Dame Hilda: You remember Barbara, George, don’t you the American girl. Constable: Oh, yes...very nice piece of homework. Dame Hilda: That's right, anyway we’re going to record a special poem that Daphne Primley wrote for Barbara's visit. Dr. Hinge: She ought to be here soon, Hilda. Constable: Miss Primley's coming here, is she? Dame Hilda: Yes, she's bringing the poem with her, you see. Constable: Er... Hilda, how do you find Daphne Primley? Dame Hilda: Well, I think she's, erm... nice, you know, a nice lady. extremely nice. Constable: Oh, I think she's weird. Dame Hilda: Er... yes, I think she's weird as well, but... nicely weird. Constable: You know, she phones me regular twice a week complaining there's a peeping Tom out side her garage. Dr. Hinge: Does she really? Constable: But all there is in the garage to peep at is hockey sticks. Dr. Hinge: She has a vivid imagination, dear? Dame Hilda: Yes, for a start, she imagines I understand her poetry. Constable: Well, yeah, right, will you set up the recorder and have a go then, shall we? Dame Hilda: Yes, we can at least do the song. Constable: Right, I’ll just check the tape is clear. Dame Hilda: Oh, look, look, it's going round, that's a sound. {Farmyard noises.} Dame Hilda: Is that the recording of the choir practice? Constable: Oh, I'm sorry about that, it's er... a few effects from the dramatic societies last production. Dr. Hinge: I thought they were doing The cherry orchard? Dame Hilda: Oh, by the sound of it somebody left the gate open. Dr. Hinge: Do you think we might start, George? Constable: Certainly. Testing, testing, one, two, three. Dame Hilda: I can see you've done this before, George, it's nice working with professionals. Right, off we go. Hello, Barbara. Dr. Hinge: And Frank. Dame Hilda: I was going to say Frank. Dr. Hinge: Well, I thought you’d forgotten, Dame Hilda: Well, I haven't. Hello, Barbara, and Evadne says hello, Frank, well, then, we hope you're all sitting comfortably in your little skyscrapers in the middle of the prairie, or wherever you live, and we've chosen one of our own particular favourite songs for you, dear, and it's from the lovely show, Bitter Sweet by dear Noel Coward. And now, of course, there's not a lot of tape is there, dear, so we'll have to speed it up to get it all on..
Once upon a time Many years ago Lived a fair princess Hating to confess Loneliness was torturing her so Then a gypsy came Called to her by name Woo’d her with a song sensuous and strong All the summer long Her passion seemed to tremble like a living flame Play to me beneath the summer moon Zigeuner Zigeuner Zigeuner All I ask of life is just to listen To the songs that you sing My spirit like a bird on the wing Your melodies adoring, soaring Call to me with some barbaric tune Zigeuner Zigeuner Zigeuner Now you have me in your power Play to me for just an hour Zigeuner Call to me with some barbaric tune Zigeuner Zigeuner Zigeuner Now you have me in your power Play to me for just an hour Zigeuner
Dame Hilda: Well, was that alright George? Constable: Well, the little needle thing was swinging, but we can check it when we've done the poem. {Door knocks.} Dame Hilda: Well, here's Miss. Primley dead on cue. Dr. Hinge: I'll let her in, dear. Dame Hilda: I wonder what colour Miss. Primley's hair is going to be this week Constable: Last time I saw her, it was blue Dame Hilda: I remember when she tinted it green, at least it matched her lipstick, of course that was weeks ago, it could be orange by now. Oh, it is! Dr. Hinge: What is, dear? Dame Hilda: It is, Miss. Primley. Miss. Primley: Felicitations my dear Hilda. Dr. Hinge: You know Constable Bolsover don’t you? Miss. Primley: I do indeed, he protects me from my persistent prowler you know? Constable: All part of the service. Miss. Primley: He was round again last night Constable I saw him at about half past 11, goodness only knows what fascination my garage has for him Constable: Well, you know one of these days we'll have to try and make an identikit picture. Dame Hilda: I didn't know, they could do identikit pictures for garages? Miss. Primley: I don't think he meant the garage, Hilda. Dame Hilda: Oh didn’t he, dear. Dr. Hinge: Ha, ha, ha! Very good dear, very good. Miss. Primley: I think he meant make an identikit picture of the prowler. Dame Hilda: Yes, yes, of course, yes, well, so much for the humour. Anyway, how are you keeping Miss. Primley, dear? Miss. Primley: Oh, I'm a lot better now Dame Hilda: Have you been poorly, dear? Miss. Primley: Oh, didn't you know, Hilda? Dame Hilda: No. Miss. Primley: I have this very rare complaint, there are only two people in the world who suffer from it, a Buddhist monk who lives up a tree in the Venezuela and me. Dr. Hinge: Oh dear, Miss. Primley, what sort of complaint is it, I mean is it something you could talk about? Miss. Primley: Oh, yes, in fact, I've written a poem about it. Dame Hilda: Yes, I've thought you might have done. Miss. Primley: I get this strange feeling that I'm inside a football. Dame Hilda: Is that the first line of the poem? Miss. Primley: No, that's my complaint. I get the feeling that I'm pressed inside a football Dame Hilda: Really? Miss. Primley: Yes, a blue football with a pink bladder. Dame Hilda: Fascinating. Dr. Hinge: Have you got it now, Miss. Primley? Miss. Primley: Oh, no, no, no, no, I only get it on Thursday. Dr. Hinge: And there's no cure? Miss. Primley: Oh, well, yes, yes, there is at least it seems to work for me, as soon as I feel the blue football close round me I stand in my green woolly socks at one end of my hall, and sing the national anthem. Dame Hilda: And what do you do at half time, change ends? Ha, ha, ha! Miss. Primley: I'm sorry, Hilda, I don't understand you. Dame Hilda: Don't worry, dear, it was a joke. Miss. Primley: I don't understand, jokes, Hilda Dame Hilda: No, no, I didn't think you would. Miss. Primley: I do like this room, Hilda, I always find it puts me into a heliotrope mood. Dame Hilda: Yes, I know what you mean. Dr. Hinge: More than I do. Miss. Primley: Do you ever get the feeling that you're enveloped in a cocoon of incongruity? Dame Hilda: Well, I suppose I must, dear. Miss. Primley: About houses, houses they're living things, you know, did you know that, Hilda? Dame Hilda: Well, I'd heard about it, dear, yes Miss. Primley: Well, they are houses have hearts and souls and lungs, did you know that, Hilda? Dame Hilda: Well, I'd heard about it, dear, yes Miss. Primley: My house has a magnificent air of lungs I often lie in bed at night and listen to my house breathe Dame Hilda: Yeah, guess, well, judging by the creaks and bumps we hear at night I think our house has a bad chest. Miss. Primley: Oh! now, I do like that picture Dr. Hinge: Which one is that, Miss Primley? Miss. Primley: Above the fire place. Dame Hilda: Oh, yes, Evadne painted that. Miss. Primley: Looking at that picture makes me feel sort of obtusely abstract. Dame Hilda: That's not the effect it has on me, dear. Miss. Primley: You're obviously not looking at it in depth, Hilda. Try to see the field of daffodils as an ocean bed of pink gingerbread men, try to see the big house as a huge bicycle bell with a feather on it, try to see the oak tree in the corner as an elderly traffic warden, with holes in his hat. Dame Hilda: Yes. Miss. Primley: Now, now, what do you feel? Dame Hilda: I've got this this strange feeling that I'm inside a football. Constable: Excuse me for interrupting ladies, but although I've been fascinated by this conversation, fascinated I do have to get back to me duties, so if we could carry on with this ‘ere recording, I'll be obliged Dr. Hinge: Good idea, George. Dame Hilda: Yes, you did bring the American poem, didn't you, Miss. Primley? Miss. Primley: Indeed, I did, a simple offering, but mine own, voila, with my compliments. Dame Hilda: What a clever idea, writing it on a carrier bag. Miss. Primley: Then I was in an aesthetic mood when inspiration struck. Dame Hilda: You were in the Butcher's by the look of it, and you know, I don't think I've ever read a poem with handles on? Are you ready Evadne? Dr. Hinge: Straining at the leash, dear?
Miss. Primley: Before you start, Hilda, may I go into the hall? Dame Hilda: Yes of course, dear, it’s upstairs, oh no, no, no, no, no, the hall, yes, yes, of course, dear, yes. Miss. Primley: I prefer to hear my poems in a sea of solitude, entombed in an aura of damp umbrellas and waxed linoleum. Dame Hilda: You should have stayed at home, dear, well, off you go, George. Constable: Right then, stand by for recording Dame Hilda: Thank goodness, it's not Thursday, she might have perloined your green socks, Evadne. And now, Barbara, at your request, Miss Primleys poem and of course, Dr, Hinge, supplying her usual, twiddly bit's on the pianoforte, perhaps a bit of handle for the carrier bag? The poem is called, Tars and Strike. Tars and Strike, shouldn’t it be? oh well, perhaps she’s right, are you ready? {The Star Spangled banner} Hip, hip, hooray, for Arnold Pymlock, Butcher and Poulterer! Oooh! Sorry dear, sorry about that, I was reading the carrier bag, let's try again. {The Star Spangled banner} Hip, hip, hooray, for the USA {The Stars and Stripes Forever} Dame Hilda: Yes dear, yes, yes, very good, yes, thank you To mighty nation, adulation, Dame Hilda: I say this one rhymes, dear, it actually rhymes, Miss Primley must have been in a hurry. With independence gained ascendance President Lincoln changed his thinkin’ Life was full for Sitting Bull {March of the Toreadors} Dame Hilda: I don't think he was sitting all that time. Life was full for Sitting Bull Who, with bravery and bluster Made a mess of General Custer Then time, no win for Errol Flynn {Goodnight Ladies} Dame Hilda: Very appropriate for dear, Errol. Hip, hip, hooray, for the US of A {The Stars and Stripes Forever} Dame Hilda: You like that one, don't you dear, may I carry on recording? Dr. Hinge: Of course Hilda. Dame Hilda: Thank you. Things were good in Hollywood It was thrilling Beverly Hilling Big star names Fun and games Love and laughter, they were after Expensive food, expensive Vino Then a quick dash up to Reno {I’m getting married in the morning} After that of course, divorce Hip, hip, hooray, for the US of A {The Stars and Stripes Forever} Dame Hilda: Evadne, that's becoming quite an obsession with you, dear. Great Wild West Sage brush dress, Buffalo Bill and Diamond Lil {Diamonds are a girls best friend} Dame Hilda: Yes, you could be right, dear. Prohibition ammunition Alcatraz and Armstrong Jazz Dame Hilda: Armstrong Jazz, dear? Dr. Hinge: Pass! Dame Hilda: I thought you might. Hip, hip, hooray, for the US of A {The Stars and Stripes Forever} Dame Hilda: Evadne, please, please, I think they've all got the message, dear, no need to go berserk! Dr. Hinge: It’s an embellishment, Hilda. Dame Hilda: Is it really, I wondered what it was, may I? Dr. Hinge: Please do! Dame Hilda: Thank you! Franklin D came to be Britain's friend with his lease lend Because of Roosevelt, We could lose a belt Make the grade With martial aid We welcomed them the piping Yankee Who liked the sort of hanky-panky There were tides of GI brides {Come fly with me} Dame Hilda: Nice try, dear, but most of them went by boat. {Slow boat to China} Dame Hilda: Don’t take everything so literally, dear. Where was I? Oh yes, yes. Hip, hip, hooray, for the USA Dame Hilda: Where were you dear? Dr. Hinge: I thought you didn't like that bit? Dame Hilda: Yes, but it's beginning to grow on me. You caused quite an hiatus, you put me right off. {The Stars and Stripes Forever} Dame Hilda: I think you probably feel a lot better now. Pass me an aspirin would you? Last verse. For Goodman swing And dear old Bing Cards for credit Yeah, you said it Conditioned air And Fred Astaire {Singing in the rain} Dame Hilda: No, no, that wasn’t Fred Astaire, dear, no that was Ginger Rogers. Dr. Hinge: Was it? Dame Hilda Try the stars and stripes for ever’ dear, you've got used to it, come on. into the finale, John Wayne the star The hell you are Three cheers for the great statue of Liberty Who always looks so flibberty-gibberty Of course the wench She’s French {L a Marseillaise}
Transcribed by Lorraine Taylor |
