Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

How now, brown cow?
All right.
I can't wait to see Ellie all polished up and talking like Sonny and Miss Jean.
And as we walk, we always keep a smile upon our face.
That is correct.
Ah, Kipling.
Sure is.
You look pure Park Avenue and you speak pure Tobacco Road.
Darling, darling, you're delirious.
You didn't even guess one ingredient.
Oh, here, bring some of this penicillin.
I ain't never Kipled.
Come a-swoopin', like a dove.
What say you to that, fair maiden?
Oh, I ain't scared.
What charms were you toting?
Next year, she'll be too old to get a husband.
What's in it, Granny?
I want to help her.
Here you are, Ellie.
I know.
Yes, dear one.
You.
And it's high time you got one, being a widower.
While I transfuse into this simple, untutored mind the charm, the polish, the splendor,
Just a mite greasy from all that oil you smear on yourself.