Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I can't take another three hours of poetry and carrot juice.

Dogged it, she didn't grab another one.

You're going to let Miss Hathaway down very gently.

I like him a lot, and... he likes me.

I don't see what's so complicated about it, Mr. Drysdale.

Oh, Ellie, honey, uh, run up and put on your prettiest dress.

I have heard that there's one or two that stroll down Lover's Lane alone.

Now, when Miss Hathaway walks in, you'll say, where have you been?

It's the opening we've been looking for.

I want you to send me over one of your finest looking turkeys.

Once you've seen this rascal, you'll commence throwing rocks at old Dash.

Take it off, Ellie.

Them movie actors is uncommon good-looking, and once you've tasted turkey, you ain't likely to settle for tripe.

Away, away, for I will fly to thee, not charioted by Bacchus and his pods, but on the viewless wings of poecy.

Starving for the...

Come on in, Dash.

Here's the first carload.