“Tums…for the tummy…”

It can certainly be argued that for announcer Don Wilson, his bread-and-butter was primarily his duties on The Jack Benny Program, a show that he began announcing for in 1934 and would work on for the next twenty-one years. (When you also consider that Don was with Jack on Benny’s TV show, his association with the comedian lasted even longer, since the television show was on until 1965.) But announcers were often very busy during Radio’s Golden Age, and in addition to the Benny program, Wilson’s familiar, jovial tones could also be heard on shows featuring Alan Young, Doris Day, Ginny Simms and Joe E. Brown—as well as Glamour Manor and Tommy Riggs and Betty Lou.

So after listening to the two Benny broadcasts, I encountered Don again on a March 20, 1951 edition of The Baby Snooks Show; Wilson was the pitchman for sponsor Tums (at that time, only ten cents a roll, and three rolls for a quarter). As the program opens, Snooks (Fanny Brice) is conversing with her father, Lancelot Higgins (Hanley Stafford):

SNOOKS: Well, why can’t I have a new Easter outfit?
DADDY: Ohhh…first Mommy, now you…well, if you must know, I don’t have the money…my job doesn’t offer that kind of remuneration…
SNOOKS: What’s remu…mu…what you said?
DADDY: Remuneration…it’s time you learned a new word…tell me, what do I carry home every Saturday night?
SNOOKS: Hmm…Uncle Louie…
DADDY: I mean my paycheck…it’s all spent…
SNOOKS: Well, Pamela Richardson is gettin’ a new Easter outfit…and I want one, too!
DADDY: Oh, so that’s it…well, Pamela’s father happens to be a banker…I don’t have his kind of money…
SNOOKS: What kind do you have?
DADDY: I don’t mean it that way—we have the same money, but…he has a whole lot more…
SNOOKS: Then why aren’t you smart enough to be a banker?
DADDY: I am smart enough…I’m just not lucky…I never got the opportunity…
SNOOKS: Well, Mommy says…since you and she got married you passed up every opportunity…
DADDY: I wish I had passed up that one, too…

It’s only when Snooks informs her father that Pamela Richardson has called the Higgins family “poor white trash” (pretty harsh for a sitcom, don’t you think?) that Daddy decides to go down to the bank and try to secure a personal loan to buy the entire family new Easter clothing—only he has to do so from Pamela’s father (Fred Shields). Snooks also lets the information about the “poor white trash” comment slip to Richardson, which angers the banker and he agrees to grant Daddy the loan. After a funny encounter with an oh-so-trying-to-be-patient department store clerk (Elvia Allman), the family is bedecked in new Easter outfits—but Snooks’ friend Pamela still thinks her clan is poor and white and trashy, so Snooks punches her in the nose, causing Mr. Richardson to put the kibosh on the loan. Daddy then gets an idea: he’ll ask his boss (Ken Christy) for the money, and he brings Snooks with him to “play on his sympathies”:

WEEMISH: Three hundred dollars? That’s a lot of money, Higgins…of course, if it’s for an emergency I might consider it…on the other hand, if it’s for something foolish—like Jackson in the shipping department wanted a hundred-dollar advance just to buy some Easter clothes…hah! Ridiculous…naturally, I turned him down…
DADDY: Oh…naturally…
WEEMISH: Well? What’s your story? (awkward pause) Well???
SNOOKS: Sorry—we need some time to change it…
DADDY: Well, uh…the reason I need the money is…uh…er…uh…it’s on account of Vera…you see, she’s…she’s sick (with pathos) Oh, she’s very sick…
WEEMISH: Sick? Of what?
SNOOKS: Of wearin’ the same ol’ clothes…
DADDY (quickly): No!!! This is no time to joke about your mother’s illness! For which we need the money…get it?
SNOOKS (catching on): Oh yeah, yeah…poor Mommy…awful sick…
DADDY: Oh yes, Mr. Weemish…just this morning I took Vera’s temperature…and it was a hundred and five!!!
WEEMISH: A hundred and five???
SNOOKS: And that was in the shade, too!
WEEMISH: Higgins, this does sound serious…
DADDY: Oh, it is, Mr. Weemish…the doctor says she’ll need an operation…and that’s why I need the three hundred dollars…
SNOOKS: Yeah, she’ll need an operation…
WEEMISH (sympathetically): Well, Snooks…Lancelot…I’m very sorry to hear this…uh, what are they going to operate on her for?
SNOOKS (quickly): Appendix…
DADDY (also quickly): Gallstones…
WEEMISH: What?
SNOOKS: Gallstones!
DADDY: Appendix!
SNOOKS: Appendix!
DADDY: Gallstones!
WEEMISH: Huh???
SNOOKS: Once more, and maybe we can come out together…

Snooks then lets the cat out of the bag about the outfits, and Weemish angrily kicks Higgins out of the office—he later relents and allows Daddy to have the loan, but Snooks has one more trick up her sleeve to scotch that as well. “The Easter Outfit” is a Baby Snooks rarity in that it’s one of the few half-hour shows in its situation comedy format extant today, and the more of the half-hour programs I listen to, the more I become a fan of Fanny’s—she’s really sensational. (I have a great admiration for Stafford, too; he makes a perfect foil for Brice’s antics.)

The other program on the Baby Snooks CD (part of the Radio Spirits box set Radio’s Greatest Sitcoms) is an AFRS rebroadcast originally heard over CBS on March 21, 1947: Lancelot and Vera (Arlene Harris) have decided to redecorate the famed house of Sycamore Terrace, and Daddy has built his very own desk to save some money:

DADDY: I’m going to carry this desk upstairs…
SNOOKS: Mm hmm…
DADDY: I’m going to set it in the living room and surprise your mother when she gets home…
SNOOKS: Lemme help you carry it…
DADDY: That’s all I need…
SNOOKS: It’s too heavy for you, lil’ Daddy…
DADDY: I’ll manage…
SNOOKS: Hmm…
DADDY: If you want to do something, guide me upstairs while I’ve got it on my back…
SNOOKS: All right…
DADDY: Now, let’s see if I can lift it (grunting) Ooooh…there…boy, this is heavier than I thought…
SNOOKS: But it’s comfortable…
DADDY: What do you mean, comfortable? Snooks! Where are you???
SNOOKS: Sittin’ on the desk…
DADDY: Get down off there!!!
SNOOKS: All right (SFX: drops to floor) Is it still too heavy, Daddy?
DADDY: No, I…I can manage easily…what’s the matter with you, Snooks? What are you standing on now?
SNOOKS: Nothin’…
DADDY: Then why you seem to be…growing taller?
SNOOKS: ‘Cause you’re sinkin’ to your knees…

Mommy (Vera) has hired a decorator named Lester Q. Zimmel (John Brown) to do the remodeling, and horrified by Daddy’s DIY desk, gives it to Snooks for her clubhouse. Unfortunately, Daddy has left an important contract in one of the desk’s drawers, and thus begins a chase to locate it: Snooks sold it to the junkman, who sold it to a second-hand furniture store, who sold it to a dealer, who doesn’t know who the desk was sold to but will call Higgins when the driver returns. (If you took Sitcoms 101, it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out the identity of the person who bought the desk.) The last half-hour finds Snooks and Daddy attempting to wallpaper the bedroom, as the decorator has quit after being punched in the nose (something about spending $300 for a desk, hint hint)—and of course, this activity ends with predictably hilarious results.

The announcer on this program is Harlow Wilcox, who again, like Don Wilson, supplemented his main bread-and-butter (Fibber McGee & Molly) by announcing on other shows. But one thing has always puzzled me regarding Wilcox—on Fibber McGee & Molly, he was sort of established as a resident of Wistful Vista; but you get the impression that he hung around Sycamore Terrace (on the Snooks show) a good deal as well. Either he maintained two residences (a double life, perhaps?) or Sycamore Terrace was but a small commute away from Wistful Vista (all aboard!).

“Ah, I love dem kinds of carryings on…”

At one point in my life, I’m sure St. Patrick’s Day was a festive occasion for me. (I’m half-Irish, on me sainted mother’s side.) In recent years, though, I get a little melancholy around the 17th. One reason for this is that I live in Savannah—which apparently has the second-largest celebration on the East Coast, a drunken bacchanal we like to call “Mardi Gras in Chatham” around our household. (I’m not even certain that it’s the second largest, really—I know New York’s is the tops, but I would think Boston would rank #2.) When you work in a hotel and have to deal with a parade of miserable drunks all night, the novelty of second-biggest party wears off very quickly. 

But the real reason that I get the blues is that back on this day in 1956, the world lost a man that I consider the greatest of all the old-time radio comedians—John Florence Sullivan, better known, of course, as Fred Allen. So last night in the wee a.m. work hours, I decided to adopt “the wearin’ of the grin” and listen to some classic OTR comedy, with Fred as a starting-off point. An AFRS rebroadcast of a June 5, 1949 Allen program featuring guest Henry Morgan (another one of my comedy idols) kicked off the proceedings in high dudgeon. 

Allen left behind a legacy of memorable comedy quotes that are still in full use today, like: “Hollywood’s a nice place to live—if you’re an orange” and “Imitation is the sincerest form of television.” In this broadcast, an exchange with wife Portland Hoffa produces one of my favorite (albeit lesser-known) Allen observations: 

FRED: Well, come on, Portland—what’s so interesting in that stationery store?
PORTLAND: This window’s full of greeting cards and mottos…
FRED: Mottos…hey, what’s that motto in the big frame there?
PORTLAND: It says: “Live as though it is your last day on Earth—and one day you will be right.”

 

The question Fred asks of Titus Moody and Mrs. Nussbaum as he strolls along Main Street is “Does a child with a high I.Q. grow up to be a genius?” But Fred and Portland also notice a newcomer to the neighborhood: 

FRED: Say, look, Portland—this new place just opened on Main Street…
PORTLAND: Who is the man with the long black coat and the sad face standing in the doorway?
FRED: Say, he’s a stranger…perhaps I can help him, Portland…pardon me, sir—is there something I can do for you?
DIGGER: I am Digby O’Dell…the friendly undertaker…

 

“Digger” O’Dell, the popular character from the hit radio sitcom The Life of Riley, gets quite a huge response from the studio audience, and he goes on to plug both the series and a feature film based on the show that was just being released by Universal-International at the time of this broadcast. O’Dell was played on the show and in the film by John Brown, a long-time colleague of Fred’s who was a regular on Allen’s program in the 1930s and early 1940s (he was one of the first “Allen’s Alley” denizens, everyman John Doe). Brown’s Riley co-star, William Bendix, was also one of Fred’s chums, having appeared with him in the 1945 feature film It’s in the Bag! I got quite a kick out of Digger’s appearance, because he blends in perfectly with the proceedings: 

FRED: Well, if you’re going my way…
DIGGER: Oh, no thank you…I’m going to a play this evening…
FRED: Oh, have you got tickets?
DIGGER: I’m sitting in a box…I’m looking forward to seeing this play…I know I’m going to enjoy it immensely…
FRED: What is the play?
DIGGER: Death of a Salesman…well, cheerio, Mr. Allen…I’d better be shoveling off…

 

Fred also runs into New York Post columnist Earl Wilson (I wonder what Earl’s opinion of his paper would be today?) who bestows upon the comedian Radio Best’s monthly Silver Mike Award for Outstanding Contribution to the Advancement of Radio or Television. After a great version of “Down by the Station” by the DeMarco Sisters, guest Henry Morgan joins Fred for a wacky take-off on the Lucky Strike commercial (“Hear...Fred...Allen!!! And feel your level best!”) and a spoof on the popular soap opera Just Plain Bill (“Just Plain Fred”). 

Next on the bill of fare, an AFRS rebroadcast of The Jimmy Durante-Garry Moore Show from November 9, 1945 featuring “the Nose” (Jimmy sings “The Guy Who Found the Lost Chord”), “the Haircut,” Elvia Allman, vocalist Jeri Sullivan (“Honey”), Roy Bargy and His Orchestra (“Carnival”) and announcer Howard Petrie in a half-hour of music and fun that allows “Schnozzola” to plug his latest film, Two Sisters From Boston (1946): 

DURANTE: Ah, yes…Two Sisters From Boston…what a picture! (To audience) Never too busy to advertise…but, Junior—it might interest you to know dat Louis B. Mayer of MGM called me dis mornin’ and made me a producer!
MOORE: Oh really, Jim? What did he say?
DURANTE: He said, “Durante—in your next picture either you produce…or else!”
MOORE: Jimmy, is that authentic?
DURANTE: Authentic? Sure! And some of it’s even true! What a picture I’ll make…I can see da billboards now…directed by so-and-so, written by so-and-so, music by so-and-so, and starrin’ so-and-so and so-and-so and so-and-so…
MOORE: I suppose your name will come first?
DURANTE: Of course! I’m da biggest so-and-so of dem all! I say dat with tongue in sandwich and mustard towards none…Junior—wait ‘til you see da parts I’m gonna give myself…drammer, nuttin’ but drammer…
MOORE: But, Jimmy—to be a great dramatic actor you’ve got to know suffering…and hardship…
DURANTE: Then I’ll do what Bing Crosby does…before he made Goin’ My Way, he stood out on the Lincoln Highway for two days and hitchhiked!
MOORE: But where’s the hardship in that?
DURANTE: Junior…wit’ four kids, it’s a long way between service stations…

 

This comedy caravan rounds itself out with a Superman spoof (“Superduperman”) and a sketch starring Jimmy and Garry in a saga from the Old West: “Durante and Moore Find a Skunk on the Range, or…Smellbound.” Ev’rybody wants to get inta da act! 

I cleansed my palate with an episode of Life With Luigi (starring J. Carrol Naish and Alan Reed) from June 6, 1950 that finds “the little immigrant” having difficulties with his party line. A suggestion from Pasquale snowballs into Luigi having his phone disconnected and two of them arrested for bookmaking. Finally, for dessert, an AFRS rebroadcast of The Fanny Brice Show (the AFRS title) with Brice as Baby Snooks, Hanley Stafford (Daddy), Danny Thomas, and Frank Nelson. Snooks finds herself in hot water when she spends the money Daddy gave her to buy a box of cigars on candy and sodas at the drugstore: 

DADDY: Snooks, it’s now a quarter past eleven…since when does it take you an hour and a quarter to go to Trumble’s drugstore and back?
SNOOKS: Since ten o’clock…
DADDY: I see…oh, by the way—did you bring my cigars?
SNOOKS: Your cigars?
DADDY: Yes…I sent you for them, remember? Where are they?
SNOOKS: I dropped ‘em…
DADDY (angrily) Oh, you dropped them…(calmer) I mean, you dropped them, huh? Well—and where, might I ask, did you drop them? (pause) Well, I’m waiting!
SNOOKS: Well—I’m thinking…
DADDY: Then think up a good one…where did you drop the cigars?
SNOOKS: I dropped ‘em off a tree!
DADDY: Now we’re up a tree…
SNOOKS: We are?
DADDY: Now, stop that! Now, how did you happen to be up this tree?
SNOOKS (tearfully) A big rhinoceros chased me!
DADDY: Oh, how quaint…I never thought we’d see a rhinoceros in Sycamore Terrace…
SNOOKS: It was a big surprise to me, too, Daddy…
DADDY: Tell me more about this rhinoceros…
SNOOKS: Well…there was fire and smoke comin’ out of his mouth…
DADDY: You saw fire coming out of his mouth?
SNOOKS: It was burning like a furnace!
DADDY: And it smoked…?
SNOOKS: Yeah…it smoked all your cigars!
DADDY: A rhinoceros, of all animals…what made you pick on a rhinoceros?
SNOOKS: He picked on me first…
DADDY (sharply) Snooks! I want the truth!
SNOOKS: All right—I picked on him first…
DADDY: Now this is the limit, young lady…you’ve been telling fibs ever since you first learned to speak…instead of getting better, it gets worse…what I’d like to know is, who put all these wild, fantastic ideas into your head???
SNOOKS: Who put ‘em in my head?
DADDY: You heard me!
SNOOKS: Well… (Thinks) I was walkin’ down the street…and two big witches…

 

To cure her of her creative tall tale embroidery, Daddy takes Snooks to a psychiatrist (Nelson), with predictably hilarious results. It’s also entertaining to hear Danny Thomas first starting out—Thomas played a postman character on the show named Jerry Dingle who was easily intimidated by authority figures and only thought of appropriate snappy comebacks afterward: 

THOMAS: Big shot psychiatrist…what’s he got that I haven’t got? A brain? Well, I’ve got brains I haven’t even used yet…anybody can be a psychiatrist—all you need is a college education…I could’ve gone to college…if I’d-a gone to high school…if I’d-a gone to grammar school…he says, “You talk like a moron!” I shoulda said, “So what if I talk like a moron? I gotta talk like one so you can understand me!”

 

Gilligan’s Island creator Sherwood Schwartz was also a radio comedy writer, and in Jordan R. Young’s The Laugh Crafters, he described writing for Danny Thomas as “an unhappy experience,” complaining that his “I shoulda said” character was too “laid-back.” “That kind of comic doesn’t work. Or if it works it’s a rarity, let me put it that way.” Although Thomas would headline comedy-variety shows for ABC in 1942-43 and CBS in 1948, he must have realized somewhere down the line that Schwartz was right, for it wasn’t until he played the lovable-but-quick-to-anger Danny Williams on Make Room For Daddy (later re-titled The Danny Thomas Show) that he really hit his stride. 

All in all, it was a perfectly delightful and entertaining evening spent with some of the classic comedy shows of old-time radio—I bet you were expecting another round of Gunsmoke episodes, weren’t you?

“Whyyyy Daddy…”

Since the antics of both wisenheimer Charlie McCarthy and demon-on-wheels Junior (“the mean widdle kid”) have been discussed in previous entries on this blog, I thought I would round out radio’s brat triumvirate by examining its third member, Baby Snooks.

Snooks was a bratty child portrayed by famed musical comedy star Fanny Brice, who began her long show business career at the age of twelve, earning pocket money by singing on neighborhood street corners in south Brooklyn, New York. She later participated in numerous amateur night contests, and from those began her foray into professional show business in burlesque (Brice--along with Bert Lahr, Red Skelton and Abbott & Costello--was one of the few radio comedians to emerge from there). Theater impresario Florenz Ziegfeld saw Fanny perform in a production of College Girls in 1910, and snapped her up for the 1910 edition of his Follies; she would appear in numerous productions for The Great Ziegfeld over the next fifteen years—in addition to performances in Broadway musical comedies and vaudeville. Her talents as a gifted singer and comedienne soon took on legendary proportions; indeed, Barbra Streisand would portray Brice on the silver screen in Funny Girl (1968) and Funny Lady (1975), winning the Best Actress Oscar for the former film in 1969.

The genesis for the Baby Snooks character rose from Brice’s little girl roles on stage; once, at a party, she sang a number called “Poor Pauline” in a high-pitched treble to tremendous response and Fanny often used the song as an encore during her stage performances. By 1936, she was performing the Snooks character on CBS’s Ziegfeld Follies of the Air, and a year later, brought Snooks to NBC in December 1937 for MGM’s Good News of 1938 program. The Good News shows were similar to those of The Chase and Sanborn Hour; featuring big-name performers (James Stewart, Robert Taylor, Robert Young and Dick Powell all hosted the program at one time during its run from 1937-40) and guest stars from the stables of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. Joining Brice in the Baby Snooks skits was character actor Hanley Stafford, who played the part of Snooks’ father to complete frustrated perfection. (Alan Reed had originated the role of “Daddy” on the Ziegfeld Follies show but stayed behind in New York when Fanny went West.)

The 1940s saw Baby Snooks becoming a popular and endearing radio favorite. Brice and fellow Good News player Frank Morgan were the stars of Maxwell House Coffee Time on NBC beginning September 5, 1940. The two comedians rarely appeared in sketches together, however; instead they staked out different halves of the show and attempted to top each other week after week. Fanny jumped ship to CBS in 1944 (Morgan continued on with the help of Robert Young and singer-comedienne Cass Daley) in a show originally titled Post Toasties Time (after its sponsor), but gradually becoming known as The Baby Snooks Show (later sponsored by General Foods/Jell-O).

The Baby Snooks Show adopted a situation-comedy format, centering on the Higgins household—Lancelot (“Daddy”), Vera (“Mommy”), Snooks and Robespierre, Snooks’ baby brother—in Sycamore Terrace. The plots generally revolved around Snooks’ endless mischief—from her frequent torturing of her little brother to her driving her father to distraction with exasperating questions. Brice allowed herself to become completely immersed in the character; “I love Snooks, and when I play her I do it as seriously as if she were real,” she once said. “I am Snooks. For twenty minutes or so, Fanny Brice ceases to exist.”

I listened to a Baby Snooks broadcast last night from May 23, 1947. It is indeed very rare to find a complete Baby Snooks broadcast, for while many of the sketches she performed with Hanley Stafford exist (from Good News, Maxwell House Coffee Time, etc.) existing episodes in the situation-comedy format are fairly scant. The program opens with Mrs. Higgins complaining to her husband that she needs a new washing machine; but he seems to be more interested in perusing his condensed encyclopedia—that is, until he is interrupted by you-know-who:

(SFX: loud crash)

DADDY: Great Scott, what was that? Snooks! Oh Snooks!

SNOOKS: Yes, Daddy?

DADDY: What was that noise? What happened?

SNOOKS: Robespierre just fell off a twenty-foot ladder…

DADDY: Robespierre just fell off a twenty-foot ladder? Did he hurt himself?

SNOOKS: No…he just fall off the bottom rung…

DADDY: Now, what’s the matter with you? Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?

SNOOKS (giggling) ‘Cause you look so cute when you’re mad…

Daddy is frustrated at Snooks’ seeming disinterest in learning, and berates her for only wanting to “read the funnies”:

DADDY: I might as well face it…you’ll never learn anything, because you don’t want to learn…but look what you’re missing…each page of this book is a treasure trove of information…look right here, for instance…light…do you know how fast light travels?

SNOOKS: Nope.

DADDY: 186,000 miles per second.

SNOOKS: Gosh! Where’s it goin’?

DADDY: It isn’t going anywhere…

SNOOKS: Then why is it in such a hurry?

Daddy points out to Snooks all sorts of wonderful facts in the book, like the capital of Nicaragua, the chemical formula for sulfuric acid, and the U.S. President who died after one month in office—but Snooks knows the answer to that one, William Henry Harrison. (Daddy: “How did you know that?” Snooks: “I’m lookin’ over your shoulder.”) On a trip to the market to get Mommy some soap flakes, Snooks manages to knock down a pyramid of cans—not once, but twice. She is sent out to the car by Daddy, and on her way out she observes a radio announcer (Ben Alexander) ask quiz questions of the crowd for prizes. He just happens to ask two questions that come directly from the encyclopedia, and Snooks regurgitates the answers, leading the announcer to believe that she’s some sort of child genius. Later, Daddy receives a phone call from a Mr. Clark (Gale Gordon) at CBS, inviting Snooks to appear on a kids’ quiz show called “The Miracle Children” (a sly parody of radio’s The Quiz Kids)—“all the brightest little minds we can find competing with each other.”

DADDY: Oh now…I…I…I don’t think Snooks should get mixed up in that…

CLARK: Oh, you may be sorry, Mr. Higgins…there’s some wonderful prizes and I think your daughter could run away with them…

DADDY: She might run away with them, all right…but I don’t see how she could win them…

Since the prizes include a brand new washing machine, Daddy convinces Snooks to go on the program, and even conducts an all-night study session on Abraham Lincoln with the little girl to get her to retain at least some knowledge, but to no avail. The next day, the family takes Snooks to the broadcast, and Snooks outperforms all expectations—except, unbeknownst to Mommy and Daddy, she’s swiped a copy of the questions from Mr. Clark’s office while meeting with Clark and Red Preston (Frank Nelson), the show’s host:

DADDY: This is utterly fantastic…for twenty minutes she’s given the right answer to every question…

MOMMY: Well, maybe we’ve underestimating her, Lancelot…doesn’t she look cute? And I’ve never seen her so modest…she keeps looking down at her lap all the time…

DADDY: Quiet, I want to hear this…

RED: Now, here comes another toughie, kids…now, on your toes…you’re all being shown up by your little guest tonight…listen closely…in what year did Lord Nelson fight the Battle of Trafalgar? Well, well…Snooks has her hand up again…all right, tell us, Snooks…

SNOOKS: October 20, 1805…

RED: Right again! (SFX: audience applause) Well, this is amazing! The child got the month and year correct and she only missed the date by one day…it was October 21, not October 20 (laughs) What’s the matter, Snooks? Is your memory not so very good?

SNOOKS: No…the light’s not so very good…

Snooks is found out during the broadcast, however, and it is decided that she must compete on her own mettle for the rest of the show. Unfortunately, the host is completely unprepared for Snooks and her endless questions…

RED: Now, I’m going to read to each one of you children in turn a little story…when I finish, I want you to tell back to me as much of it as you can remember…all right, we’ll let our guest, Snooks Higgins, go first…ready, Snooks?

SNOOKS: Uh-huh…

RED: All right, here’s the story…during the reign of King John, in the small English hamlet of Waffing-On-Thames, there lived a one-legged Cockney wheelwright…

SNOOKS: What’s a wheelwright?

RED: A wheelwright is a man who makes wheels…

SNOOKS: Only right wheels?

RED: No, he also makes left wheels…

SNOOKS: Then…why don’t they call him wheel-left?

RED: That has nothing to do with the story…may I continue?

SNOOKS: Yes, sir…

RED: Now, the wheelwright’s name was Thomas Smythe Bedlington, and…

SNOOKS: Why?

RED: How should I know why?

SNOOKS: Well, it’s your story…

RED: Well, it’s my story but you’re supposed to be listening to it…now let’s understand each other—that was his name…

SNOOKS: What was his name?

RED: Thomas Smythe Bedlington…

SNOOKS: Ohhh…

RED: Now, one day he left his house and started walking down the street…

SNOOKS: Where was he going?

RED: It doesn’t make any difference where he was going…he wasn’t going anyplace…

SNOOKS: Then why did he leave his house?

RED (exasperated): Because he felt like it!!!

SNOOKS: Who did?

RED (yelling): Tom did!!!

SNOOKS: Tom who?

RED (near tears): Thomas Smythe Bedlington!!!

SNOOKS: Ohhh…

RED: Will you let me get this story finished!!! I’m supposed to be asking the questions!!!

SNOOKS: Well, I ain’t stopping you…

RED: All right, for the last time (notably flustered) During the reign of King Bedlington, a small English Thames lived a one-wheeled Cockney leg-right…

(SFX: Bell dings)

SNOOKS: Is that recess?

RED: No, it’s the end of the show, and thank heavens for that…now, ladies and gentlemen, we just have time left for our studio audience to choose the grand prize winner by their applause…before I start holding my hand over the contestants’ heads, however…I must call your attention to the fact that during the first twenty minutes of the show, this…this Higgins child…had the list of answers in her lap!

SNOOKS: I did not!

RED: Oh, you didn’t…???

SNOOKS: No…I had them in my pocket.

Needless to say, the audience helps Snooks wins in a rout, thus securing the new washing machine for her mother. The Baby Snooks Show ended its CBS run in 1948, but resurfaced again in 1949 over NBC for Tums. Although the show still remained popular, the program had curiously acquired a certain moral preachiness in its 1950-51 season; the Snooks character became less of a mischief maker and more of a misunderstood kid. The series came to an abrupt end on May 29, 1951—the day of the broadcast—when Fanny Brice succumbed to a sudden cerebral hemorrhage and passed away. The program that night was substituted by a musical tribute, and co-star Hanley Stafford eulogized: “We have lost a very real, a very warm, a very wonderful woman.”

An item of note: Paul Rapp, son of veteran comedy writer Phillip Rapp, who created the Snooks character (as well as The Bickersons, a comedic battling married couple played chiefly by Don Ameche and Francis Langford), maintains a website devoted to selling audio cassettes/CDs and VHS/DVDs of both Snooks and Bickersons material. I heartily recommend the book The Baby Snooks Scripts, a collection of complete scripts from both the Good News and Maxwell House Coffee Time programs. (I particularly like the Coffee Time scripts, because they include the Frank Morgan spots as well as the Snooks segments.) It was published by Ben Ohmart of BearManor Media, which has printed other fine books on OTR as well. Have yourself a glance, you’ll be glad you did.