Make Mine Music

Make Mine Music is a 1946 American animated anthology film produced by Walt Disney and released to theatres on April 20, 1946.

Dialogue

Opening

The Chorus: Make mine music

And my heart will sing

Make mine music

And it's always spring

All the world goes romancing

When melody fills the night

And even the stars go dancing

To the music of the moonlight

Make mine music

And I'll dream of you

Make mine music

And the dream comes true

Music will play the shadows away

When everything seems to go wrong

So make mine music

And life will be a song

The Martins and the Coys

The King's Men: Gather 'round me, children, and I'll tell a story

Of the mountains in the days when guns was law

When two families got disputin',

It was bound to end in shootin'

So just listen and I'll tell you what I saw

Oh, the Martins and the Coys, they was reckless mountain boys

And they took up family-feudin' when they'd meet (ever' durn time!)

They would shoot each other quicker

Than it took your eye to flicker

They could knock a squirrel's eye out at ninety feet

All their fightin' started one bright Sunday mornin' (I remember!)

When old Grandpa Coy was full of mountain dew-ew-ew (HIC!) dew-ew-ew (HIC!) dew-ew-ew-ew-ew (HIC!)

Just as quiet as a church mouse,

He stole in the Martins' henhouse

'Cause the Coys, they needed eggs for breakfast, too

Chicken: Bawk bawk bawk A COY! A COY! A COY!

Grandpa Coy: YAAAAAAAHH-HOO-HOO-HOO-HOOEY!!!

The King's Men: After that, they started out to fight in earnest

And they scarred the mountains up with shot and shell

There was uncles, brothers, cousins

Why, they bumped 'em off in dozens

Just how many bit the dust, it's hard to tell

Oh, the Martins and the Coys, they was reckless mountain boys

At the art of killin', they became quite deft

They all know'd they shouldn't do it

But before they hardly knew it,

On each side, they only had one person left

Now, the sole remainin' Martin was a maiden

And as purty as a picture was this Grace (wolf-whistle)

While the one survivin' boy

Was the handsome Henry Coy

And the folks all knew they'd soon meet face to face

So, they finally met upon a mountain pathway

And Henry Coy, he aimed his gun at Grace (right at Grace)

He was set to pull the trigger

When he saw her purty figger,

You could see that love had kicked him in the face

Oh, the Martins and the Coys, they was reckless mountain boys

But they say their ghostly cussin' gives ya chills

'Cause the hatchet sure was buried

When sweet Grace and Henry married

It broke up the best durn feud in these here hills

You may think that this is where the story ended

But I'm tellin' you, them ghosts don't cuss no more

'Cause since Grace and Henry wedded,

They'd fight worse than all the rest did

And they'd carry on the feud just like before

Blue Bayou

Ken Darby: I hear the echo of

Our song of love

Murmuring low

And here am I

Still haunted by

The ghost of long ago

After You've Gone

Benny Goodman: 1, 2, 3...!

All the Cats Join In

Lady: [after the phone call] Oh, boy!

Lady: [hears the car horn honk] HEY!

Benny Goodman and the Pied Pipers: Hop in the old jalop

And head for the malted shop

And all the cats join in

Down goes my last two bits

Comes up one banana split

And all the cats join in

Drop your jack in the old jukebox

Play your favorite disc

When you dance with the bobby socks

You dance at your own risk

Rip! Everybody swing

Yes, swing, till the rafters ring

And all the cats join in

Without You

Andy Russell: I'm so lonely and blue

When I'm without you

I don't know what I'd do,

Sweetheart, without you

The joy and tears that love endears

Would have no meaning

If I didn't have you to keep me dreaming

At the close of each day,

When I'm without you,

And my heart kneels to pray,

I pray about you

You take a star

And lead it far away from heaven,

And the star will be lost, as I'm lost without you

Casey at the Bat

[sung]

The Chorus: Oh, what a lark to ride out to the park

And just to see Casey

They travel for miles and they stand in the aisles

And just to see Casey

The ladies don't understand baseball a bit

They don't know a strike from a foul or a hit

But when they see Casey, that game has got it

Casey, the pride of them all

The Narrator (Jerry Colonna): The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville Nine that day The score was four to two, With but one inning left to play.

The Coach: Listen, ya bunch of bush leaguers. This here is the ninth inning, in case you don't know it. It's the windup, the blow off! Come on now, unbutton your shirts. Now get in there and fight! Who's up next? Cooney!

The Narrator: The coach was really worried when Cooney went to bat. All he had to offer was three hundred pounds of fat. Ah, but Cooney was determined, and he tried to do he worst. He kept his batting average alright. And as usual... died, at first. (...) Barrows was the next one up and Barrows made a hit. Wow, he smacked a beauty right in the pitcher's mitt!

The Umpire: You're... OUT!

The Narrator: There goes the... A straggling few got up to go, ah, but the loyal fans stood pat. They'd put up even money now were Casey at the bat. Ah, but Flynn preceded Casey, of all the stupid guys. The bat is getting in his hair. Now the hair is getting in his bat. Egad, he let drive a single much to his own surprise! (...) The next one in the lineup was No-Hit Jimmy Blake. Of all the mugs in Mudville, he was the biggest fake. But he was really blazing and to the wonderment of all, Blake the fake tore the cover off the ball! (...) And when the dust had lifted and they saw what had occurred, there was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-huggin'third. Cozy, isn't it?

The Umpire: You're... SAFE!

The Crowd: [chanting] We want Casey! WE WANT CASEY! WE WANT CASEY!

The Ladies from the stands: CASEY! [giggling]

(sung)

The Narrator: Oh... Casey's the guy with his eye on the ball

But mostly the ladies

Casey's the guy whose the idol of all

But mostly the ladies

The Chorus: Casey is mighty and manly

Casey's a dangerous gent

The Narrator: Egad, when he goes to bat, hang onto your hat

He's batting a thousand percent with the ladies

Oh, Casey has nerve and he knows every curve

He's no hokey pokey

The Umpire: Oof!

The Narrator: He gets away with that old double play

He's sure okey dokey

He makes all the ladies go, "Ga-ga, it's true"

No wonder they swoon when he comes into view

He was the Sinatra of 1902

Casey, the pride of them all

The Narrator: The pitcher's nerves were jagged and his knees began to shake. One eye was watching Flynn and the other eye watching Blake. While the frightened pitcher ground the ball into his hip, Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye A sneer curled Casey's lip. [chuckles] And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air, and Casey stood a-watching it... in haughty grandeur there. Close by the sturdy batsman, the ball unheeded sped.

Casey: That ain't my style!

The Umpire: STRIKE... ONE!

The Narrator: From the benches black with people, there went up a mighty roar, like the beating of the ocean on a stern and distant shore.

One of the Ladies: KILL THE UMPIRE!

The Narrator: Yelled a cutie from the stands! And it's likely they'd have killed him, had not Casey raised his hand. With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone. He stilled the rising tumult and bade the game go on. Signaled from the pitcher, and once more the sphere went through! But Casey still ignored.

The Umpire: STRIKE... TWO!

The Narrator: "Fraud," cried the maddened thousands, and the echo answered, "Fraud!" But one scornful look from Casey... and the audience was awed. They saw his face go stern and cold. They saw his muscles strain. And they knew that Casey would not let that ball go by again.

The Ladies from the stands: Ooh!

The Narrator: The sneer is gone from Casey's lip. His teeth are clenched in hate. He pounds, with cruel violence, his bat upon the plate. And now the pitcher holds the ball... And now he lets it go... AND NOW THE AIR IS SHATTER BY THE FORCE OF CASEY'S BLOW!!!

The Chorus: (sung) Somewhere in this favored land

The sun is shining bright

Somewhere bands are playing sweet

And somewhere hearts are light

The Narrator: (sung) Somewhere, men are laughing...Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho!

Somewhere, children-a shoooooout!

[A thunderstorm goes on in the Mudville baseball field after the game was over]

The Narrator: But there is no joy in Mudville; Mighty Casey... has struck out!

[Casey sobs, then throws a tantrum missing his swings trying to hit the baseball]

The Chorus and the Narrator: (sung) Casey the pride of them all...!

The Narrator: What do you know? The game is over.

Two Silhouettes

Dinah Shore: Two silhouettes

Together in the afterglow

Two silhouettes

Become as one when lights are low

And with the night slumbering on

We'll build a dream for two

A perfect dream set to a theme

Lovely as you

Two hearts on fire

Will soon inspire the stars to dance

The flames that stray will light the way

To our romance

And when I hold you in my arms

To my heart's delight

Two silhouettes will drift away

Into the night

Peter and the Wolf

The Narrator (Sterling Holloway): Now, this is the story of... uh.... "Peter and the Wolf". As you know, in the musical score of "Peter and the Wolf", each character is represented by a coresponding instrument in the orchestra: Peter by the String Quartet, and his trusty popgun by a "pop".

[Music from the string quartet plays Peter's Theme]

The Narrator: The bird who's name is "Sasha" by a flute. Way... up high.

[Flute plays Sasha's theme]

The Narrator: Sonia, the duck by an Oboe, like this.

[Oboe plays Sonia's theme]

The Narrator: And here is Ivan, the cat. He's represented by a Clarinet. In a very low- [clears throat] (low voice) in a very low... r-r-register.

[Clarinet plays Ivan's theme]

The Narrator: Grandpapa is an old Bassoon.

[Bassoon plays Grandfather's theme]

The Narrator: And when the hunters shoot their guns, that's the kettle drums.

[Timpani plays the Hunter's rifles' theme]

The Narrator: (low voice and evil tone) And there is also... a... wolf.

[French horns play the Wolf's theme]

The Narrator: Ahem, little does that old wolf know what's in store for him, this day. For our hero: Little Peter, armed to the teeth, is setting forth to capture him. (suddenly, he was grabbed by somebody) Uh-oh, there seems to have been a change of plans; For Peter's Grandpapa, he thinks that little boys like Peter, should NOT go out to hunt the wolf.

[During the narration Peter's grandfather dropped his grandson in a cornor, and takes away his hat and popgun]

The Narrator: For a great hunter like Peter who's almost six years old, to be carried back into the cabin, it's very embaressing.

[Peter, sitting in the cornor, kicks a toy. A few seconds soon, he daydreams]

The Narrator: But, he dreams of hunting anyway.

[After daydreaming, Peter saw his grandfather, asleep in front of the fireplace]

The Narrator: Soon, Peter's Grandpapa fell fast asleep. Peter escaped out of the cabin, across the snow, and into the dark forest, his popgun maximally, at the ready.

[Peter trials through the snow, over a bridge, and into the woods.]

The Narrator: Oh my, Peter's happy.

The Narrator: And soon, he met Sasha; the little bird we told you about. Excited and a little chap, wasn't he? He's forgetful, too.

Sasha: Hello, Petey! What goes?! Where ya goin', huh?! Can I go, Petey? Can I, huh?! Oh boy a gun! Loaded, too! You going huntin'?

Peter: Oh, yeah. That's for me.

Sasha: Everything's okay, Petey. Come on, let's go!

The Narrator: The wolf?!

[Peter tries to shoot, and Sasha hides in Peter's hat, but they both realize...]

The Narrator: No! It isn't the wolf, at all. It's only Sonia the Duck.

Peter: Hello, Sonia.

Sonia: Hello, Petey.

The Narrator: You see, Sonia imagines herself a great wolf hunter, and she wants to join the party, too. Imagination is a wonderful thing, but sometimes it can run away from you.

[Sonia imagines herself dealing with the wolf, until it frightened her]

The Narrator: You see, Sonia's imagination was so good, she was frightened by the wolf that wasn't there!

Sasha: [kicks Sonia's butt] You coward!

The Narrator: Now who's this? It can't be- Oh-ho-ho, no! It's Ivan the cat! Hello, Ivan. Ivan's a peacful, fun-loving sort. Maybe a little shy on brains. You know the type.

Peter: Stop it, stop it, stop it, S-STOP IT! (...) Oh, how can they ever get any place if they're going to fight among themselves?

Sasha: Ivan, you ought to be ashamed!

Peter: You big bully!

Sonia: You cat in the grass!

Peter: Come on, Sasha.

Ivan: I am sorry, he won't do it again!

The Narrator: And so, once more, a little band of intrepid hunters sets fourth to find the wolf.

The Narrator: Sonia? Sonia! Behind you! Look out! W, O, L, F! Oh, that wolf is everywhere!

[Sonia, cuts in line, which she was cut in line by Ivan, causing them to fight in the line, until...]

Peter: AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!

[The Wolf snarls]

The Narrator: WHOA! And that wolf is much feirce than I ever thought! Peter, do something!

[Peter shoots the wolf on the nose]

The Narrator: No, no Peter, not that! What's his move?! Hmm, I don't know either!

[Ivan runs away]

The Narrator: Peter, don't just stand that way!

[The wolf leans Peter downward]

The Narrator: And don't stand that way either!

[Sasha, and Peter flees, but Sonia got distracted by the Wolf]

The Narrator: Sonia, what're you doing here?! This no time to relax!

[Sonia runs from the Wolf trying to eat her.]

The Narrator: Oh, here lies danger and the WOLF!

[Sonia swims underwater underneath the ice rink, and they switch changing spots]

The Narrator: Over there! For the hollow tree!

[The wolf got head bonked by the ice that he bursted out from the water, then just as Sonia hid in the Hollow tree, The Wolf left a little green feather behind on his foot prints]

The Narrator: Oh, dear.

[Peter, Sasha and Ivan feel sad for Sonia]

The Narrator: Poor Sonia. I guess she hasn't gone fast enough. Just a little green feather floating through the snow. By the hollow tree. Goodbye, Sonia.

The Narrator: Will this crime go unavenged?

[The Wolf walks around the tree, staring at Peter, Ivan, and Sasha, the reaches to the tree scrathcing some skin off it]

The Narrator: Not if Peter and Sasha can help it. Peter's making a lasso of his rope, and Sasha is keeping the wolf busy.

Sasha: You, you, you... BEAST! Take this, and this, and this! How do ya like this, eh? And this, eh??!! How about this, eh?! Not so good, eh???!!!

The Narrator: Good work, Sasha!

The Narrator: Take aim, now Peter! Hey, they've got the wolf... I think?! Yes, they have, they've definitely got him! They roped him by the tail! Pull, now, pull! Pull as hard as you can, Peter! Come on! Pull him right up off of his feet! OH, THAT'S IT!

The Narrator: Hey, Sasha, don't get too close to those awful jaws of the wolf. And please remember to keep your hat away from him, okay? (Sasha keeps distracting the wolf, but ends up flying backwards) Don't fly into that tree, Sasha, or over confidence!

[Sasha didn't listen or watch where he was going, and slams into the hollow tree]

The Narrator: OH! I tried the telling! This is bad. This is very bad. Now, where are we? Oh, yes. Peter's got the wolf, by the tail, and the wolf is trying to get Sasha.

[The wolf got pulled by Peter and Ivan with the rope.]

The Narrator: Sasha! The rope! The rope is breaking! Save them!

The Narrator: Sasha, what are you doing?! Where in the world is our assistance?!

[The Wolf gets furious at Peter and Ivan, after climbing up onto the branch of the tree.]

The Narrator: Oh, he'll never make it in time! Never! (Sasha shivers in fear) Just when things were looking blackest... What's this we hear? What's this we see? Just a minute; I'll look. (...) Why, it's the hunters! Misha, Yasha, and Vladimir! That's Vladimir in the middle.

[Sasha appraches to the hunters]

The Narrator: And here comes little Sasha, flying as hoped, Peter's very life depended on it, which it does! Tell them Sasha, tell the hunters!

Sasha: W, O, L, F! Wolf!

Misha, Yasha, and Vladimir: WOLF?! TO THE RESCUE!!!

[The hunter rush to the rescue until they saw the remains of Peter's popgun and hat]

The Narrator: (gasps) Peter? Where are you?

[The hunters sobs]

Peter (off-screen): [whistle calls]

[The hunters look up to see Peter and Ivan with the captured wolf]

The Narrator: Oh, Peter, there you are! You're safe! AND you've captured the wolf!

The Narrator: Oh, Peter, what a hero! You too, Ivan! Oh, what a triumph as we parade through the town! Can't you just hear all the villagers cheer?! Glistening... "Horray, Horray" and "HOORAY!" Everybody's happy! Everybody, that is, except the wolf! Ho-ho, that old wolf!

The Narrator: But little Sasha isn't happy. He's flown back to the hollow tree, because he's thinking of his lost playmate, Sonia.

[Sonia cries]

Sasha: Huh?! SONIA!!! Oh, you're not dead! You hid in the hallow tree! You're safe! Oh, Sonia, this is the most wonderful, wonderful day! The wolf is captured by Peter and Co.!

The Narrator: Now, Peter can go hunting whatever he likes, and they'll all live happily forever and ever after! The end!

Johnny Fedora & Alice Blue Bonnet

The Andrew Sisters: Johnny Fedora met Alice Blue Bonnet

In the window of a department store

'Twas love at first sight

And they promised one night

They'd be sweethearts forevermore

Johnny would serenade Alice

Too-ra-lay, too-ra-lai, too-ra-loo

He sang of a beautiful palace

Of a beautiful hatbox or two

But Johnny Fedora lost Alice Blue Bonnet

To a patron of the department store

Her beauty was sought by

The girl she was bought by for $23.94

Johnny, oh Johnny

Your Alice Blue Bonnet

Will always be waiting for you

So don't give up hoping

And don't give up dreaming

For true love will come smiling through

Johnny Fedora was lonely and stranded

In the window of the department store

When low and behold

He was suddenly sold

And his heart became gay once more

Johnny sang out like a robin

Too-ra-lay, too-ra-lai, too-ra-loo (La-la-la)

To strangers, he'd come up a bobbin' (Oh!)

I thought you were someone I knew

He looked for her uptown and crosstown and downtown

From the Brooklyn Bridge to the Jersey Shore

It all seemed in vain till he heard the refrain

Of the song Alice sang of yore

Johnny, oh Johnny

Your Alice Blue Bonnet

Will always be waiting for you

So don't give up hoping

And don't give up dreaming

For true love will come smiling through

The Andrew Sisters: Johnny kept yearning, he kept on returning

To the window of the department store

His voice became hushed

He was literally crushed

And it started to rain and pour

Each place he went, he kept calling

Too-ra-lay, too-ra-lai, too-ra-loo (La-la-la)

His spirits kept falling and falling

For his Alice was nowhere in view

But hey nonny nonny, an iceman found Johnny

And he cut him to fit on his horse's ears

'Twas done without malice

For beside him was Alice

And they lived on for years and years

You Johnny Fedoras

You Alice Blue Bonnets

Whenever you find yourself blue

You'll find it's June in December

If you'll just remember

That true love will come smiling through

The Whale who Wanted to Sing at the Met (Willie the Operatic Whale)

The Narrator (Nelson Eddy): (spoken) This story about a singing whale is one of the strangest ever told. Yet, every word of it, and every note of it is vouched for by one of the Whale's closest friends, a seagull. The Whale's name was Willie, and his big ambition was to appear at the met. Now, many big things have hit the met from time to time, why not a whale? Not just a whale of a singer, but a singing whale. Willie was three times as interesting as an ordinary singer, because he could sing in three different voices. Not just one at a time, but all at once. How did he do it? Well, there's not much of a secret about it; anybody with three separate voices can do it. It's as easy as saying Jack Robinson. [Repeats "Jack Robinson" in three voices at the same time] See what I mean? Of course, you might not be able to start right off with grand operatic selections, but you can begin with a simple round. And it'll sound like this:

(sung) Three blind mice. Three blind mice.

See how they run. See how they run. (Three blind mice. Three blind mice.)

They all ran after the farmer's wife, (See how they run.) (Three blind mice.)

Who cut off their tails with a carving knife. (See how they run.) (Three blind mice.)

Did you ever see such a sight in your life (They all ran after the farmer's wife,) (See how they run.)

As three blind mice? (Who cut off their tails with a carving knife.) (See how they run.)

(Did you ever see such a sight in your life) (They all ran after the farmer's wife,)

As three blind mice?

(spoken) Now I've had quite a lot of experience with this sort of thing myself. By studying the Willie the Whale method, I too am able to sing with three voices at once. That's why I was chosen to tell you the story. I not only do all the singing, but I do all the talking, too. And every once in a while, you'll notice that I interrupt my own songs to take different parts and to describe the action.

The Narrator: [sung] This is how it all began; Just a little back-page item about a voice that sang at sea. And then this fantastic news appeared on the front page. And then in screaming headlines...!

Newspaper Delivery Man: ENTRY! READ ALL ABOUT IT! PAPER!

[sung]

The Man 1: A singing whale!?

The Man 2: What do ya know?!

The Man 3: Imagine that!

The Sewer Man: Humph, I don't believe it!

The Taxi Driver: I don't believe it!

The Police: For who ever heard of an operatic whale?!

The Woman: I don't believe it!

The Cat: I don't believe it!

The Narrator: Then headline followed headline. Then doctors and experts. And men of anatomical biology, Debated and argued, And quoted ichthyology.

The Blue and black-suited Men: IMPOSSIBLE! PREPOSTEROUS! WE SAVEGLEY DENY IT!

The Red and Black-suited Men: Magnificent! Miraculous! We certainly certify it!

The Narrator: And even the great impresario, Of the grand opera, Raised an eyebrow, And tried and tried to figure it out.

Professor Tetti-Tatti: Hmm, this a-whale... She's a-maybe swallowed the opera singer. That's it! This a-whale, she's a-swallowed the opera singer! I find-a the great singor Donatelli in the fish market. I discover the great Lilli Galli in the honkey tonkey. Then Why not I find the opera singer in the belly of a whale, Huh?! I DO IT! [sung] Oh get me a great big schooner, and get me a good-a harpooner. Photographers and reporters, from all the news-a papers, Publicity... publicity... publicity!

The Narrator: Publicity? Yes, but to Whitey the seagull, it was opertunity. The big opertunity for his friend, Willie the whale. There was no time to lose. He must bring these two together.

[Whitey, with the newspaper, flies past Tetti-Tatti, seeing him]

The Narrator: Well, there was Tetti-Tatti, now. And Tetti-Tatti was in for a wonderful surprise. Because Willie hadn't swallowed any opera singer, he could really sing! Listen.

The Narrator: After all these years of casting his "Shortnin' Bread" upon the waters, now at last success lay just over the waves.

Whitey: Willie. Willie! Willie, look! That's you, Willie! He's looking for you! It's your big opportunity! [to the seals and pelicans] Willie's going to be a great star! Our Willie, going to sing Grand Opera!

Willie the Whale: [sung] Goodbye, my friends! I'm off to be discovered! Tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, I'm off to be discovered!

The Narrator: At last, the long years of patient waiting... and the endless hours of faithful practice... were about to be rewarded. As Willie sped to his audition, he wondered what he should sing for his opening number. What would impress this impresario? How about a bit of "Figaro"? Yes, sure, "Figaro."

Professor Tetti-Tatti: Ah! She's a-float! THERE! She's a-float! (...) Shoot the whale! (...) Hurry up, hurry up! Rescue the opera singer!

The Sailors: SHHH!

(...)

Professor Tetti-Tatti: Don't-a worry! We'll save-a you!

Willie the Whale: (sung) Ahime, (ahime) che furia!

Ahime, che folla!

Uno alla volta,

per carita! (per carita! per carita!)

Uno alla volta, uno alla volta,

uno alla volta, per carita!

Figaro! Son qua.

Ehi, Figaro! Son qua.

Figaro qua, Figaro la, Figaro qua, Figaro la,

Figaro su, Figaro giu, Figaro su, Figaro giu.

Pronto prontissimo son come il fumine:

sono il factotum della citta.

(della citta, della citta, della citta, della citta)

Ah, bravo Figaro! Bravo, bravissimo;

a te fortuna (a te fortuna, a te fortuna) non manchera.

Ah, bravo Figaro! Bravo, bravissimo;

a te fortuna (a te fortuna, a te fortuna) non manchera.

Sono il factotum della citta,

della citta, della citta,

Della CITTA...!!!

The Sailors: (applauding) Bravo! [whistles] Bravissimo! Bravo!

The Narrator: Ah, but they haven't heard the half of it. Well, they haven't even heard a third of it! For Willie, he was no ordinary singing whale. Willie could sing in three separate voices: Tenor, baritone, and bass! Why Willie was a singing miracle!

Professor Tetti-Tatti: Let-a me up! This is a mutiny! (...) Mama-mia! He's-a swallowed TWO opera singers! Oof! (...) He's-a swallowed THREE opera singers!

The Narrator: Subborn, deluted Tetti-Tatti. Right there before his very eyes was the biggest discovery in all musical history. Just imagine a whale singing opera, on the very stage at the met!

Professor Tetti-Tatti: I've got-a him, I've GOT-A him! VICTORIA!!! Victoria! (gets beaten up by his sailors)

[last lines; Willie the Whale impaled by a harpoon by Professor Tetti-Tatti]

The Narrator: Now Willie will never sing at the met. But don't be too harsh on Tetti-Tatti; he just didn't understand. You see, Willie's singing was a miracle, and people aren't used to miracles. [to Whitey who mourns Willie the Whale's loss] And you, faithful little friend, don't be too sad, because miracles never really die. And somewhere in wherever heaven is reserved for creatures of the deep, Willie is still singing, in a hundred voices, each more golden than before, and he'll go on singing, and admit the applause and the cheering... forever.

External links

Wikipedia

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Make Mine Music