Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Oh, it's my pleasure, Mr. Clavitt.
Look!
It makes a kind of hollering noise.
We'll run in and show Granny.
I know you don't like it when I say that, but you like it when the young fellas around here come in saying it, and they will.
Well, he ain't president no more.
Get up from there.
Guess it'll come down from there.
Why, she fit in just like one of the family.
Well, that's how come that big old pink chicken didn't get away from me!
I'll fetch it, Granny.
And when your ma passed away, I just decided to turn you into a boy.
Set a spell.
Sorry I couldn't stop before.
That's Jethro.
Oh, yes, indeed.
I'm a cook with a stove that don't brawl, food that's froze solid, chickens that can't be caught, eggs that can't be broke, and a smart, alecky city woman telling me my business.
Pa just can't wait to commence gardening.
I don't think even Jethro would eat crickets.
You're getting too rough.
That's what kind of a cook I am.
My secretary should be over very soon.
Great drive, those Oxford men.
Makes you look taller.
Cricket?
You are the most incompetent, insubordinate, belligerent group of domestics.
Thinkin' you'd make a hollerin' noise, too, if you was to lay egg like that.
And just why does Cook need an axe?
They're only this big around.
Jethro, you swear to be telling the truth?