[♪]
I've had enough!
I quit!
You children are horrible!
I can substitute but that doesn't solve the problem.
That's four teachers in two months.
Now we can't even get anyone to answer our ads.
Hetty managed for so many years, why can't anyone else?
Maybe we're listing the wrong qualifications.
My only qualification is that the candidate
should be breathing.
I could make a strong case to Hetty.
You'll never pry her away from that baby.
Oh Hetty, we were invited for luncheon.
At this rate, Janet will be serving dinner.
Now there.
Mustn't be reckless and startle the poor babe.
I told you we should have waited until after his morning nap.
Janet would have understood, she's a mother.
[♪]
Uh, Sara...
you wouldn't want to trade, would you?
Say no.
Trust me.
You won't want to.
C'mon Sara.
I've had cheese all week.
I'm sorry Felix I prefer my own lunch.
Wait!
I've got this!
Pride of the Punjab - it's got tiger hunts,
derring-do, everything.
All right.
Mrs. Lynde ...?
What's the matter?
That's what.
It's just a garden snake, Mrs. Lynde.
AHH!
Let me out of here!
HELP! HELP!
Hetty - what on earth is that ...
Sounds very like Rachel Lynde to me.
Hetty, she's obviously in some trouble.
Yes I dare say she is.
Come on.
Come on boy.
Let's go.
[screaming]
Go on Olivia - you tend to Rachel Lynde.
Hold on Rachel.
- Are you coming?
Yes I'm coming!
- Come Quickly!
[screaming]
Well...well I am shocked and deeply saddened.
Is this the sort of school I leave as my...my legacy?
Bunch of hooligans and ruffians?
I see I've been remiss.
Too lenient I'll wager.
You will all apologize to Mrs. Lynde.
Now.
Sorry, Mrs. Lynde.
And you will clean this schoolroom from top to bottom.
And if anything like this should occur again,
everyone of you will fail your year, do you hear.
Now then you will each write a two page essay on decorum
to be handed in by Monday.
Decorum... d-e-c-o-r-u-m.
Is that understood?
Yes, Miss King.
It was all your fault, Felix.
You and Rupert Gillis.
Now we're in for it.
Two pages of writin'.
What'll I say?
Nice things about Mrs. Lynde I think.
Well, if you're so upset about it, why didn't you let her out.
Between Rupert and Sally I couldn't even reach the door.
Sally Potts kicked me, you know.
I think it was sort of funny.
Mrs. Lynde all red in the face, and her hair every which way.
Gus Pike!
That is positively disgusting.
I'll say.
It's on account of the Tomgallon House.
Haunted.
And you believe that expectorating in the road
will protect you from wandering spirits?
What foolishness, Gus.
There's no such thing as ghosts.
How do you know, Sara Stanley.
I never seen one before, but I don't want to neither.
You don't know so much, Felicity.
There's lots that happens that no one can explain.
Even Uncle Jasper says so.
Uncle Jasper also says that there is a scientific
explanation for everything.
We just haven't discovered them yet.
I know.
We'll conduct an experiment.
We'll come back some night and watch for ghosts.
That is unless you're all too afraid.
I don't know about them, but I can't fathom waitin' round
for no ghost I don't wanna see anyway.
Leave well enough alone, Felix King.
What?
I quit, that's what!
Now, Rachel, they'll settle down and it's only
another couple days until the next interview.
I wouldn't go back there for all the tea in China.
Never in all my born days have I seen such wilful,
wanton behaviour.
And you, Sara Stanley should know better...
Aunt Hetty there was only one of me.
When Gus tried to help he got kicked in the shins.
Well, it's a good thing someone knows what's right and proper.
And where pray tell did you get this?
From Felix.
Because Felix King chooses to befuddle his brains
with such nonsense is no reason you should.
Now I have warned you before Sara
about these popular pulp romances.
Hetty it's just a piece of fiction.
Why, you read them yourself.
And if I do, Olivia, it's so I may inform the publishers of
such twaddle that they are singlehandedly destroying the
intellectual fibre of the western world.
You can go to your room now Sara and complete the essay on
decorum, and I would advise a sentence or two on the
importance of higher literature.
Shhh.
Oh for heaven's sake, Hetty.
What's so funny?
Destroying the intellectual fibre of the western world?
Well it is.
And this...this "Pride of the Punjab"
is an excellent case in point.
It's nothing but one brawl after another.
Whoever this C.L. Small,
Colonel, Retired, may be, he is no writer.
So, you've already read it then.
A cursory glance, yes.
Hetty, Small is noted for keeping his readers spellbound
with adventure and suspense and romance.
Why, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were
jealous of these writers.
Jealous?
Oh - anyone with half a brain could write that drivel.
Yes but fiction Hetty - why you have to make
everything up yourself.
It must take a keen mind, a wonderful imagination,
a way with words, a special method of looking at the world.
Oh so you don't think that I possess these requisite
qualities and abilities, is that it.
You're saying that this
C.L. Small and his ilk are more talented than I?
Well Hetty, those who can, do.
I see.
Olivia.
We'll be off.
Yes we will.
Is my little baby boy tired.
Say good-bye.
Good bye there, Montgomery.
Those who can do.
[♪]
A blade.
The Lady and the Blade.
The Lady and the Blade...
[♪]
Ah.
I'm sorry.
Mr. Clive Pettibone, colonel, retired.
Alec King.
How do you do.
Mr. Pettibone, late of the Proctor Military Academy
in Delhi, Indiana.
India.
Oh, yes.
India, and Redding, New Brunswick...
All your teaching experience, Mr. Pettibone,
seems to be in military settings.
Yes.
So why have you applied here sir?
You need an educator with my qualifications and I have a
young family who might enjoy living here.
Sounds good to me...
Qualifications.
Avonlea is a far cry from a military school, sir.
Military background - he'll need it.
Precisely my point, Mr. King.
What are your views on discipline in the classroom,
Mr. Pettibone?
There is only one authority in the classroom,
one voice of command, that of the educator.
Absolutely.
Children learn best when given a tight schedule,
no deviations or special cases.
Sounds just like the man we need.
Sounds just like Hetty King, that's what.
Yes I suppose it does.
I'm Felix King.
Sara Stanley.
Morgan.
That's Izzy.
My father's being interviewed.
We're supposed to sit and wait, Iz.
I know.
Nice toss.
That your real name?
Izzy?
None of your beeswax.
Children.
Well he's breathing, isn't he?
Authority is just what those little hellions need.
My Rupert included.
There's no nonsense about Mr. Pettibone.
No sense of humour, either.
He didn't even flinch when I mentioned snakes.
A man who could easily deal with glue on the seat of his pants.
Well it's true.
Since Hetty stopped teaching, the children
have been completely out of control.
I say we fight fire with fire.
We give him a trial period.
Well I don't know there's...
Look at it this way Alec, it's either him or you.
Me? He's hired.
A shuffling, scuffling sound, a rasping, gasping sigh
emanated from the deep, dank recesses hidden
in the corner of the cell.
Rosamunda stepped back, her quaking shoulders
scraped the stony walls.
The darkness unfurled itself and moved toward her.
Reaching.
Rosamunda whispered, "My love ..."
Her words echoed in the shallow cell, as Rosamunda ran across
the cold stone floor and into the arms of the Knight of the
Silver Swords, into the embrace of her beloved, where her lips
found his and she could breathe his name at last, "Edward."
Oh Hetty.
I had no idea ... oh it's just wonderful!
It is good isn't it.
An interesting exercise, ya know.
Now I trust we keep this to ourselves.
What would people think?
Montgomery looks flushed to me.
In my opinion you overdress him, Olivia.
Oh he's fine Hetty.
Hetty, this story is so good.
I think it should be published.
Published?
Oh for heavens sake, Olivia.
Published, indeed.
No what are we doing.
It's twenty minutes past Montgomery's feeding.
I'll get it.
Oh Hetty.
You might as well get used to it, little chum.
Everything's ready Oliva!
Well?
Olivia?
How's my baby boy?
[♪]
Three silver swords sewn in silken threads gleamed in the
streaming sunlight saturating the tower room.
She slipped the sword for his scabbard shielding
the swooning sister from the slicing sidelong storm
of Sir Cedric's dangerous, dark...
Elvira Lawson, I have been standing here an eternity.
I can't imagine what can be that interesting in the Chronicle?
Oh - Hetty King.
I feel the very fool.
But it is the most wonderful story, though,
The Lady and the Blade.
H.E. Leroi, esquire?
It's Leroy...I think?
Olivia Dale.
How could you?
I am speechless.
A common thief, you are.
The moment my back was turned, you stab me in it.
Hetty...
No...no excuses.
This was our secret Olivia.
A sacred trust, a familial bond...
A cheque for royalties.
A what?
What did you say?
Hetty, they want more.
Much more.
Read it.
From Wilton and Straub, publishers' representatives.
To H.E. Leroi, Esquire - that's you.
Leroi, that's King, in French.
I made it up myself.
Oh Hetty.
They want all of it.
Lady and the Blade.
They want to serialize it.
Internationally.
Hetty, you've written the story of the year.
Well now, oh this in no way excuses your behaviour, Olivia.
But it does change things.
Internationally.
Oh my, my.
[baby crying]
Montgomery.
Internationally.
[♪]
[thunder]
Sara Stanley, you scared me half to death!
Gus, you really don't think we're gonna see a ghost, do you?
I ain't sayin' one way or the other.
But I know which way I'd prefer.
[spitting]
Gus! Look we better hurry,
we'll be late meeting the other.
[thunder]
Whoa!
Whoa I say!
Whoa!
[dog barking]
[horse naying]
Oh dear.
It's all your fault.
It's all your fault you blasted dog.
Go...go on home Digger, home.
Come along now Sonny.
Come along.
Before we get caught in the storm
and both of us catch our death.
Come with me.
Come on.
[thunder]
This worked out great.
Everyone thinks we're at Aunt Hetty's.
What did you tell Aunt Hetty?
She wasn't at home.
She's never home anymore and, if she is, she's locked up in her
room working on something or other.
It's very secretive.
So I just left a note that I'd be staying
at Aunt Olivia's tonight.
What if she goes over to the Dale House.
Then we're all in big trouble.
Something you should be well acquainted with Felix.
This was a really silly idea.
Then why didn't you stay home, Felicity.
She wouldn't be at all interested in seeing the ghost?
Would she?
Don't be ridiculous.
No such thing as spirits.
[wind howling]
[thunder]
[♪]
[thumping]
[moaning]
Wind.
Must be the wind.
A loose shutter or something.
[thumping]
[violent hit]
[moaning]
[screaming]
Help!
[old record playing]
We should send the children away more often.
Alec - you're just like a schoolboy.
Father!
Mother!
Help!
You won't believe it!
What'd I say.
What'd I tell you.
What in the name of Hades is all this about?
Felicity? Felix?
It's haunted, Mr. King.
I saw it. We all saw it.
Alright, one at a time.
Hetty!
Saints preserve us!
A murderer - a prowler...
Aunt Hetty - what happened?
Take a deep breath.
Oh, get the smelling salts.
Tomgallon House.
Tomgallon House - it's haunted.
Be quiet. Hetty, sit down.
[dog barking]
Get that dog away from me.
The cause of my near brush with death.
Brush with death?
You've been reading that serial in the paper.
Now just tell us what happened.
That dog frightened the horse off the road.
Then forced on foot and I took refuge in the Tomgallon House.
You, Miss King?
Somebody else was there, Gus.
The ghost!
Oh no Felix no flesh and blood.
Well did you see who it was?
No I didn't stop to exchange pleasantries, Alec.
What did you do?
I armed myself of course and then...then I thrashed
that scoundrel soundly with an iron skillet
and then I ran...ran for my life.
I think you brained the new schoolteacher.
As for the rest of you, I'll deal with you later.
Big trouble, remember?
The...the new schoolteacher...?
Of course, no one expects anyone
to be in Tomgallon House, Mr. Pettibone and someone,
seeking refuge from the storm, and believing the old sea tales
about this house being haunted well, might have thought you
were a ghost.
One does not arm one's self with a skillet to do battle
with an ephemeral being.
Good point.
Nevertheless, you will forgive and forget.
Never, never since my time spent in the Suez struggle, have I
felt my life in such peril, and from what, I can only think,
is a local lunatic.
One of many I believe who live in your charming town.
I have no wish to place my children in such danger.
So, I bid you good day, goodbye and good luck.
[♪]
Hetty!
Oh, Alec...
Mr. Pettibone has quit, thanks to you.
It was an accident, Alec.
Surely Mr. Pettibone can understand accidents...
No, no, no what Mr. Pettibone understands is the goose-egg
on his throbbing head.
Now since you are responsible for his departure, you will
take his place until we can find a replacement.
And with the reputation Avonlea is getting,
that could be many years.
Mr. Pettibone?
I hope you'll excuse me.
I'm Olivia Dale.
Alec King's sister.
Good day to you, Mrs. Dale.
I trust you're feeling better.
I'm terribly sorry that you're leaving Avonlea.
Are you, madam?
Why so?
Avonlea could use a man of your abilities, Mr. Pettibone.
I hope you don't judge us too harshly.
It was all an accident, you know.
You were someplace you weren't expected to be and my sister
didn't mean to cause you harm.
Your sister?
Hetty King.
Well she'd never admit it, oh and you mustn't tell her
that I said so, but she was afraid alone, in the storm.
A woman.
A woman alone.
Hetty feels absolutely terrible about the whole thing.
She's very embarrassed.
I really do hope you'll change your mind about leaving.
But if you don't, I thought you should know the whole story.
Yes, I quite understand.
Sally Potts.
Stop primping.
Shhh...and I'll have silence.
First you improve those deplorable essays on decorum.
Legs out of the aisle, Gus Pike.
Miss King.
Clive Pettibone.
Ah, yes, Mr. Pettibone.
How do you do.
I'd like to speak with you... Privately.
Yes of course.
One moment.
My children - Izzy and Morgan.
Children.
Find a seat.
Yes, sir.
Felicity - you be in charge.
Well I'm relieved to see you unhurt, Mr. Pettibone.
And that you are willing to assume responsibilities
here at the school.
Your sister Olivia is very persuasive.
Charming woman.
Oh is she?
Really.
Of course, I would be only too willing, if you like it to share
some of my vast experience here at the school with you....
That won't be necessary, Miss King.
I can see for myself what your deft hand has wrought here.
I needn't detain you any longer.
I am given to understand you are a very busy woman.
You're free to pursue whatever it is you do.
Thank you.
I'll do just that.
Good day to ya.
Good bye, Miss King.
and good luck.
[laughing]
You may call me Mr. Pettibone, and I shall address you by your
formal surnames.
Mr. King...
Mr. King, when I call your name I expect a response.
Not sloth and lethargy.
Up! Up!
Stand up straight, man.
Now, Mr. King the chalk pieces.
Chalk pieces?
Do you think I am dimwitted, Mr. King?
No.
No, what?
No, I don't think you're a dimwit.
Miss Pettibone, what is our proper response?
To end each and every address with a respectful sir, sir.
Thank you, Miss Pettibone.
Chalk pieces, Mr. King.
Remain standing Mr. King.
I can't say I think much of that Mr. Pettibone's attitude, Alec.
Well we didn't hire him for his attitude, Hetty.
Oh he's vain, authoritative, abrasive,
opinionated and offensive.
Does that sound like anyone else you know?
Who?
Alec, I am serious.
Hetty I'm sure Mr. Pettibone has the children well in hand,
and they'll learn to appreciate him as they have you, Hetty.
No, Miss King.
That is incorrect.
But I'm sure if you check the play,
you'll find that the merchant is Shylock, sir.
Which part of NO don't you understand Miss King -
the "N" or the "O"?
He's just plain awful.
He likes picking on people.
He hates me.
He hates everybody.
Except Izzy.
She gave me a bloody nose and he didn't even care.
Who's Izzy?
It's like prison, only worse.
It's like church, only quieter.
It's like the army.
Oh now, now Mr. Pettibone simply has different manners
and ways of teaching.
Teaching?
Even Aunt Hetty was better than him.
He's vain, authoritative, abrasive,...
Offensive.
Yes, I know.
I'll...I'll have a word with Mr. Pettibone.
Mr. Pettibone.
How was your first day of school?
As I anticipated, Mr. King.
It will take a great deal of hard work to establish even
a semblance of discipline.
I'm glad you brought that up.
I don't think we need to go overboard with discipline
and harsh punishment.
I will conduct my classroom as I see fit, Mr. King.
No, no, no.
He's gotta be the jester, Fergus.
Ah, don't be ridiculous, Bert.
Excuse me, please.
No, no not the jester.
It's the monk, Friar Athelsten.
The monk.
He couldn't see his way out of an outhouse.
Could I get some service, please, Mrs. Lawson.
Oh, Mr. Pettibone.
You're order is right here.
Now who do you think it is?
The Knight of the Silver Swords.
Who?
The Lady and the Blade?
Which one is the Blade?
The Blade... what a piece of overbearing drivel.
Hetty, secrecy, remember.
It is the worst example of pulp fiction ever put on paper.
Really?
You know I thought Mr...
Excuse me Olivia.
Excuse me.
Mr. Pettibone, but how you know anything about the creation
of imaginary worlds, of wit, of symbols, motifs...
Surely you jest.
Wit, madam?
Such great turns of phrase as, "She slipped the sword from its
scabbard, shielding the swooning sister from the slicing sidelong
storm of Sir Cedric's dangerous dirk."
Or yet again...
She did? When's this?
That is alliteration, Mr. Pettibone.
Alliteration.
A far sight better than most.
Than this for example.
"Pride of the Punjab" - a veritable plethora of literary
affectation - oh listen to this "Thunder boomed the mountain"
or this "The tiger drew back it's lips into a snarl,
its teeth gleaming scimitars flashing whirling dervishes."
Just what, if anything, does that mean?
The heroine, if I dare label such a shrew,
is the most obnoxious, opinionated, overbearing woman
in Christendom.
The young private in this muddle is the most niggardly, wayward,
reprobate ever to appear in print.
He is a classic hero.
She is the NEW woman...
God keep her far from me.
Childish palaver - characters who lust after violence and are
themselves so stupid that they try to follow a cannonball
on its trajectory to their own encampment.
That is mere womanish fol-do-rol, without a whit of
fact, an emasculated hero and enough tongue-twisters to render
the whole mess unreadable!
Stuff and nonsense for witless fools.
Mrs. Lawson, my order!
And as you think you could do better, Mr. Pettibone.
Why, I'll have you know that I...
Hetty look what found for Montgomery,
I don't care what that popinjay has to say.
I still think it's right ripping story.
And it's got to be the jester.
[crosstalk]
Oh did he wake up?
Did he wake up?
Thank you.
The nerve...Good Day...the nerve of that...that pedant!
Oh, a fool in love with his own voice.
Not a creative bone in his body.
Hetty, it's not worth getting all worked up about.
His is only one opinion.
Good Day.
Well we can all do without Mr. Pettibone's opinions.
Mark my words, Olivia, his days here are numbered.
[whistle]
It is clear to me that you cannot be left to your own
devices even during recess.
Therefore, proper parameters will be established.
There will be a chart posted on the schoolhouse wall
and you will undertake only those activities
during your spare time.
What's that mean?
Big trouble.
Quiet in the ranks!
You will conduct yourselves as befits
young ladies and gentlemen.
Form up.
I hate school worse than ever.
Is your father like this at home?
Oh yes. It's wonderful.
He's the best father in the whole world.
I want to be exactly like him.
Izzy's going to be the first woman ever in charge
of the British army.
Somehow, I believe you.
Forward!
[wood chopping]
Father, when's Arthur coming to see our new home?
I'm not sure, Iz.
Carry on.
Mr. King - a very fine looking animal.
Thank you.
Hello.
I have to talk with you, Mr. Pettibone.
I'm afraid that well things just aren't working out.
I see.
Upon what grounds do you base this judgment?
Your manner, sir, is too authoritarian for our community,
your methods too intimidating.
I think - well we think that you'd be better off
at a military academy, than a small country school.
We...
Mutiny in the ranks, I wager.
Your children have complained and I am not surprised.
They've been allowed to run circles around you, they're
completely out of control and have become accustomed
to getting away with murder.
But, not with me.
Well they are children.
And that gives them license to run around like wild savages?
You will receive notice of your dismissal, in writing, at the
end of the two week period unless you are prepared to
accommodate some of our concerns.
Good day, Mr. Pettibone.
Will we have to leave, father?
Possibly, Izzy.
Aw. I sort of like it here.
I even have a friend, Felix, I socked him in the nose.
Did you now, Iz.
I'm sorry, children.
It is entirely my own doing.
You may give me demerits.
It's not your fault, father.
They just don't know you like we do.
Thank you Mr. Pettibone, that's a wonderful draft.
I'm sure it will make an excellent book.
Good luck with your final draft.
Thank you.
[♪]
H. E. LeRoi, Esquire?
a novelist?
You, Miss King?
C.L. Small, Colonel. Retired.
[laughter]
A truce, Miss King.
So be it, Mr. Pettibone.
Perhaps, sometime, we might compare notes.
I have no one else in Avonlea with whom to confide.
I would enjoy that, but I fear I won't be staying in Avonlea.
I've been sacked.
Blasted schoolboard.
They're quite right you know.
I just wasn't cut out for civilian life.
Your own children don't seem to think so.
Clearly they adore you.
Two out of three, maybe.
I have an oldest son is away at school, studying to be a
veterinarian and we don't see eye to eye much.
Never have.
But I shall be sorry to leave Avonlea.
I've rather grown to like it.
Despite being hit over the head with a skillet.
More tea?
No, thank you.
Did you read the children's essays on decorum by any chance?
Oh yes.
Very entertaining.
Particularly young Felix King's runaway paper on the chivalric
code of the knights of the Round Table - touches on my own
scholarly interests, you know.
The chivalry code, really.
You know, know King Arthur ruled with admirable discipline,
still he recognized a need for knightly quests
and individual freedoms.
I wonder if such thinking might be applied to children.
What do you think?
Very perceptive, Miss King.
Not unlike your heroine.
It would be very courageous of you,
Mr. Pettibone not unlike your hero.
[laughter]
Don't give the schoolboard another thought.
Cheers.
[♪]
[whistle]
We shall have no more of this.
Oh no. What next?
Bread and water I'd wager.
I believe that we shall undertake to uphold the
principals as presented to me in an essay on decorum
penned by Mr. Felix King.
What's he talking about?
You may follow your own pursuits, ladies and gentlemen.
And, Mr. King, you expressed an avid interest in swordplay.
If anyone should like lessons in the use of the rapier,
I would be happy to oblige.
Swords?
As you were, troops.
[♪]
You should have seen, father.
Thrust.
Parry.
It was swell.
And then we got to tell what our quests would be
if we were knights.
We're supposed to write a story and hand it in next week.
He even said Digger could be in the story.
It seems highly irregular, but I suppose it is a way
of instilling grammar and vocabulary.
Now are we all talking about the same Mr. Pettibone who was vain,
abrasive, offensive, et cetra?
But it's just sort of his manner of teaching.
Izzy explained it all to us.
He's not really like that.
Well does seem unfair to make rash judgments
about a person before you even get to know them.
I don't know about you children.
[♪]
"The Crown of Kohinoor".
I think you'll like the heroine, the Lady Henrietta.
Thank you.
"The Crimson Rood" with a dashing hero, Sir Clive - a man
devoted to the chivalric code.
Thank you, Miss King.
Don't mention it, Mr. Pettibone.
[♪]