Christmas in Connecticut

Don't try, my dear. And thank you
very much for coming to see me.

- Good afternoon, Mrs. Lane.
- Good afternoon.

- Anything wrong, madam?
- Oh, no, nothing at all.

He's kind of overpowering, isn't he?
Oh, yes. A very strong personality.
- Yes.
- Pardon me, Mrs. Lane...

...but I'm planning on having a farm
in Connecticut myself one day.

I'd like some good bottomland.
- Bottomland?
- Yes.

That's the best kind for farming,
isn't it?

Oh, some people say yes,
and some people say no.

But what do you say?
I'm inclined to agree with them.
Oh, thank you very much.
- What's this?
- It's the menu for your Christmas dinner, sir.

- It's what the doctor ordered.
- "Mashed prune whip.

Creamed turnip fluff."
He expects me to eat
these barbaric atrocities?

Well, I won't.
Mrs. Lane.
There's something I want to...
This must be telepathy.
I know exactly what you're going to say.

- Do you?
- Yes.

You're inviting me
to your Christmas party.

Well, Mrs. Lane, I'm going to accept
with the greatest of pleasure.

Well, that'd be just wonderful.
I'll be there Christmas Eve.
I was going to be with my family...

...but I'm coming to Connecticut.
Well, why not bring the family too?