No, Miss Murray, I'm not officially engaged.

Well, it's the little professor.

I love that little woman.

Look at that piddling little pot.

No, that little bird-watching fella, Professor Biddle.

A little of my spring tonic will have you feeling sprightly again.

Her and the little bird-watching professor left here together.

Hey, Uncle Jed, that little professor shimmied up that tree again.

Ellie Mae, your monkey's whopping the tire out of that little dog again.

If I didn't know better, I'd swear that little rascal had been tonic.

Whether or not I accept his proposal, I must ask you to show the respect due to the commander-in-chief of Biddle's Bird Watchers, of which I have the honor to be flockmaster of the Beverly Hills Nest.

A tea?

I get a wheelbarrow, she gets a wheelbarrow.

I paint a sign, she paints a sign.

Set a spell.

You're a bird lover.

Ellie, when you put on a dress, you are prettier than a Jersey heifer in a clover patch.

Come and listen to a story about a man named Jed, a poor mountaineer, barely kept his family fed.

Oh, this is a magnificent gift, Professor, but... It's not a gift.

Passes 16, she's a spinster.