Granny keeps her spices and such on the top shelf, Your Honor.

Give him a hand, Miss Hathaway.

I've got to get away from them tender, healing hands.

Ready to try your call to Hooterville?

You got sick stuffing yourself on the grits while he was boiling.

Well, you run upstairs and keep an eye on Jethro.

Didn't they belong to your wife?

Forget your stomach.

Your attention please.

Miss Jane, these are the tender, healing hands of a physician and surgeon.

I'll take your suitcases upstairs.

Ceres Bell, take your shoes off.

Oh, that must be your private secretary.

Oh, where's your pa and Miss Jane?

I'm particularly anxious to prepare some of the gastronomical delights indigenous to your native hills.

You gotta get your mind off of it!

Yeah, I reckon you must have missed your family.

Wish I could say the same for your pa.

But to tell you the truth, Granny, you cook better in your day.

You can have my office and your own private secretary.