I've sold the house.

You're letting Mrs. Drysdale sell the house?

The new house is 25 feet closer.

He never missed a spring that he didn't come to our house for collards and fatback.

Now he'll give me anything for my house.

You've been so sweet about selling the house.

That boon would have paid a quarter of a million for this house.

I got him back from a fishing trip to look at your house.

Son, uh, we got a fine big house here with plenty of room.

With the interest he charges, he could still get $200,000 for that house.

Tremendously talented, and yet modest and unassuming.

And he's been sitting up in the tree for the last three hours, waiting for me to go into the house so he can swoop down.

Cornbread and fatback and good old collard greens.

Nylons and lube.

And Granny's vittles.

And, oh, Margaret...

I've also got an option to buy the house on the other side of the Clampetts.

And then leave again?

[door opens and closes]

Granny, there is only one smell beats magnolias and honeysuckle, and that is your collard greens and fatback.