Oh Andy, You Came and Got A’s Without Studying; or
In Season Four I Was The Boy
(a recap by Will Kaiser)
Title: The Cheaters
Airdate: November 20, 1978
Written by Arthur Heinemann
Directed by William F. Claxton
SUMMARY IN A NUTSHELL: Andrew Garvey falls into Nellie’s clutches when she volunteers to tutor him.
RECAP: Well, I’d forgive you if you think you can see the sun rising over Walnut Grove this morning.
In reality, it’s just the radiant glare from the wheels of the Yellow-Wheeled Buckboard as it comes rattling down the thoroughfare.

The Y-W B is piloted this time by a generic-looking older man. (I think we’ve seen him a few times; who can say?)

He’s accompanied by the Medieval Peasant Woman. (Presumably his wife; who can say?)

Then there’s a woman on the porch of the Mercantile who appears to have stolen Caroline’s new orange skirt.

(It’s possible this is meant to be Caroline herself; she’s otherwise absent from this episode.)
At the school, the flag is flying, of course, and we get an unusually good look at it.

It’s got 38 stars, making it the correct one for this time period. (Unless we’ve traveled backwards in time seven years or forward six years. Not impossible on this show; we shall see.)

Inside, Alice Garvey is returning papers to students including Laura, Carrie, Albert, Nellie, Willie, Andrew, an AEK, the Midsommar Kid, Not-Linda Hunt, the Non-Binary Kid, H. Quincy Fusspot, Not-Ellen Taylor, and the Misbehaving Little Girl from “Harriet’s Happenings.”

There’s also a kid who at first appears to be the Gelfling Boy, but who, upon closer examination, isn’t.


There are also two students there who technically shouldn’t be, or at least who possibly technically shouldn’t be.
First, there’s Rod Peterson of Sleepy Eye (#41) (AKA the Sharp-Faced Paranoid-Looking Brother), whose calf took third place in the Brown County Fair in 1882. That was at least two years ago in Little House Universal Time, or LHUT, so it’s possible he moved back to the Grove from Sleepy Eye at some point in between. (His family did reside in Groveland previously.)


Harder to explain is the presence of the Cool-Haired Girl Who Can Spell Mimosaceous and Xanthophyll, a student from outside Walnut Grove’s district who won the regional spelling bee that same year. But I guess she could have moved here too.


Finally, there’s a brand-new student who resembles a miniature Art Garfunkel.


PEGGY: Who’s Nellie talking to? She has a friend?
WILL: It’s just Willie.
(Dags and I watched this one with my sister at my mom and dad’s house in Wisconsin.)

Arthur Heinemann of “Doctor’s Lady” fame is back as writer, and Clax as director.
DAGNY: Why is Laura’s hair braided like that?
WILL: What do you mean? It’s always braided.
DAGNY: No, these braids are thicker than usual.
PEGGY: They are thick.

The last paper Mrs. Garvey returns is Andrew’s, and we see he got a D.

Andy looks up at his mom, sadly and dopily, as if he wishes he could go back in time to last week and quit school after all. (Patrick Labyorteaux really perfected this look, didn’t he?)



Mrs. G gnashes her teeth furiously.


Presumably there’s nothing he’d rather discuss less than his grades, but Willie immediately turns around and asks what he got.
Andy tells him, and Willie says, “That’s not so bad. I got an F-minus.”
I’m not sure any teacher in history ever really gave out an F-minus; but we did see last week that Alice can be a real hardass, and there’s even more on tap for us this week.


I’ve always assumed Willie’s problems at school were mostly behavioral rather than academic, but I suppose they’re probably both by this point.
Albert whispers to Laura, asking what her grade is, and, just in time for the Season of the Werewolf in our real world, she shows him a toothy grin.


We can make out that Laura’s essay was about the controversial Presidential election of 1876 – something of an obsession on this show, but never before discussed in the classroom. (Why they would be studying it in 1884 is a question best left unspoken, possibly.)

Well, G says a lot of the kids did terribly, but she points out Albert’s essay was the best.
She describes it as “all gold stars,” but I’m not sure what that means. Is she speaking metaphorically? Or does she use different color combinations for every grade?


Nellie, who’s wearing her stolen Winoka (Private) School uniform, raises her hand.
Smirking, she asks, “Wasn’t my work outstanding too, Mrs. Garvey?”

Mrs. G confirms it was, then announces there will be daily quizzes from now on.
“Wow!” some kid says, and another boos. It’s rare we can actually decipher what any of them are saying in these classroom scenes.

Then G says, “Everyone’s grades will be posted on the blackboard” – which alarms Willie.
Mrs. G coldly tells Willie he’s “not dumb . . . just lazy.”
PEGGY: Quite the compliment.
DAGNY: Yeah, teaching with humiliation is always very effective.

Then she stares down her own son and says, “As are others in this class who shall remain nameless, since they must know who they are.”
DAGNY: This is what my junior high experience was like.

G says the stakes are high, since they’re approaching a major exam that will determine who gets held back a grade.
PEGGY: Left back? What is she talking about? Do they ever show the different ages doing different work?

The short answer is “not really,” though Charlotte Stewart told us she made an effort to get stuff for the chalkboard that suggested degrees of difficulty.

Mrs. G dismisses everyone but Andrew, so she can yell at him.

DAGNY: Maybe Andy has a learning disability.
WILL: Yeah. Or maybe he’s just a dunce?
PEGGY: Probably just needs glasses, like Mary.

I’ve said before that while I generally like Alice as a character, I don’t love her as the town schoolteacher.
Part of it might be snobbery. She’s clearly less refined than Miss Beadle was in manners as well as in knowledge and personality.


For instance, she says “telegraph” instead of telegram; so who the hell does she think she is, lording her answer book over these kids?

But in fact, her imperfections explain a lot. Because surely Alice herself is aware of her rough edges, and she’s become insecure about them.

You probably would too, if everybody in town, including you, had gone around for a week saying nobody could possibly compare to your predecessor.

So, she takes it out on her own students in a way the Bead never did.
And not just Andrew! Remember how she laughed at poor Big Dumb Luke Hoskins when he struggled to read aloud. To do that, an educator must have a truly twisted psyche.

I think of my own fourth-grade teacher Mr. Hogg, whom I think I’ve mentioned before – a cruel, crude monster, subhuman, ogre-like, unshaven, literally unwashed, with cigarette breath, dandruff, pig eyes, and a dull gray aura about him. Humiliation was key to his pedagogical method. It may have been his only technique, in fact. And it didn’t produce brilliant students. (I mean, except myself, obviously.)
Alice isn’t as bad as he was, of course. But now, when she releases Andrew and he says, “Ain’t ya comin’?”, she screams, “AREN’T you coming!”
WILL: Well, blame his father for that. Ol’ “They’s Wolves!” Garvey.


Outside, a bunch of kids come wandering up Shortcut Way. (Is Carrie shrinking?)

Andrew says to Laura and Albert, “I wish Ma never took that job,” and Albert jumps on the bandwagon, saying, “TAKEN!”

On its face, this doesn’t seem to make sense – there’s nothing incorrect about “I wish Ma never took that job.”
So probably the scripted line was “I wish Ma’d never took that job.” Which, as Spell Check conveniently reminds us, would require the form taken.

But if there’s any suggestion of a D in Patrick L.’s line reading, I can’t hear it.
Andy tells Albert to piss off already, then launches into a rather frightening impersonation of his mother.

Laura and Albert continue making ill-conceived “helpful” comments, until Andy finally can’t take it any more and shoves Albert to the ground.
“What’d ya do that for?” Albert says.
WILL [as ANDREW GARVEY]: “In Season Four, I was the boy!”

Andy says Albert’s “model student” bullshit is making them all look bad.
He’s quite aggressive – Laura has to stop him from attacking Albert again.
Foiled at violence, Andy friend-breaks-up with Albert, then runs screaming into the hills. It’s a good scene for Patrick L.

But Laura and Albert, who have a higher degree of cleverness than Andrew, can see he’s under a lot of pressure and just shrug.
Meanwhile, Alice Garvey is completing a transaction at the Mercantile.
Now, the last time Alice and Harriet Oleson had a direct encounter, there was an unpleasant undertone to the conversation. But what are the chances that would happen again?



Grabbing a can of peaches from the shelf, Mrs. Oleson says she thinks a prize for the student who does the best on the upcoming exam would be a great motivator.
PEGGY: How is it you can always tell when there’s nothing in the can?

Alice clearly wants to get as much distance between Mrs. O and herself as fast as possible. But she can’t help sniffing that learning should be “its own reward.”
Ignoring this, Harriet, who’s wearing Ladies’ Cut Pinky, suggests the prize be a blue ribbon, which she herself will donate.

But Alice doubles down, saying she’s not the sort of teacher who has to bribe students.
DAGNY: It isn’t all about you, Alice Garvey.

Alice is in a bad mood today, but I guess if we’re cutting Andy some slack we’ll cut her some too.
Mrs. O pulls rank on Alice then, reminding her of her school board credentials, and saying the blue ribbon was less a “suggestion” than a direct order from the board. (Wouldn’t there need to be a formal resolution or something?)

Meanwhile, Nellie lurks in the doorway.

Pissed off now, Mrs. Oleson says, “Nellie was telling me also that your Andrew is doing very poorly in school. . . . Such a shame!”
Miss Beadle would not have stooped to Harriet’s level, but Alice does, saying, “It’s even more of a shame that your Willie is doing far worse than Andrew.”

But the many ways in which Willie Oleson is an impossible child are hardly news to his mother. Mrs. O just chuckles and says, “Yes, poor little tyke – he takes after his father!”

Then she points out that she would feel much worse if she were Willie’s teacher as well as his mother.
Nellie pipes up then, saying she would be happy to tutor Andrew.
Alice asks why she isn’t tutoring Willie instead, and Nellie says, “Oh, no one can help Willie. He’s hopeless.”

Mrs. Oleson gives a jolly snort at this swipe at her own child. There’s a crackling, Tilling-esque energy to this scene that’s simply great.

Cornered by these circling pumas, Alice concedes defeat.
She declines Nellie’s offer politely and departs, leaving the Oleson women to congratulate each other on how wonderful they are.

Alice arrives home at the Old Sanderson Place ranting to herself.
She tells Jonathan she’s genuinely surprised no one has murdered Mrs. Oleson yet. (Fair enough.)

But then she turns her flamethrower on Andy (who’s elsewhere).

Jonathan protests that Andy’s studying hard right now. He says he wishes he could help more, but he “never had much of a chance for book learnin’.” (Yeah, yeah, we were all paying attention last week, no need to go over Garvey’s lack of educational pedigree again.)

Alice tells him about Nellie’s offer, and he gently suggests that she shouldn’t let her (quite justifiable) feelings about Mrs. Oleson influence her decision about getting Andy a tutor.
(He doesn’t add, “You know, there can be a high cost to bein’ right,” but he should.)

Alice says she wants to give Andy a chance on the first quiz before reconsidering.
But when we cut to the school, the scores are posted on the board as promised, and Andrew’s is – not great.

But first, the music.
WILL: It’s “Mary the Nerd”! But Mary’s long gone.
One of David Rose’s most recognizable tunes, “Mary the Nerd” debuted in “The Award” and was reinforced as Mary’s signature theme in “The Pride of Walnut Grove.”


Since then, the melody has been used fairly generically.
It provided an all-purpose “academic” musical umbrella throughout “Troublemaker.”

It represented Young Charles and Young Caroline’s burgeoning love in “‘I Remember, I Remember.’” (Young Charles even played it on the fake fiddle!)

And (strangely) it was used to accent Ma’s suspicions about Pa in “For My Lady.”

At least here it’s in a school setting again. Anyways, three days have apparently passed since Mrs. G laid down her daily-quiz decree, and Andy’s grades haven’t risen above the low seventies.
We can see some of the other kids’ scores too. One of them, named “M. Fiore,” has done quite well.

Nellie’s numbers are also great, and Willie’s are predictably poor.
And, notably, Albert got near-perfect scores on the first two, then biffed the third.

Class is dismissing, and Andrew muses aloud that he hasn’t been able to improve himself by hard work alone.
He turns to look at his mother; but Alice just gives him a cold stare, then rolls her eyes in disgust, as you might if you were eating raspberries from the container at two in the morning with the lights off and realized they were moldy. (Not that I’ve ever done that.)

Anyways, she isn’t very likable in this one.
There are a lot of other names on the board too: “T. Payne,” “E. Miller,” “W. Alberti,” “L. Adams,” “D. Capalto,” “J. Bisom,” and “P. Martin.”
WILL: Alberti? Capalto? Fiore? How many Italian families can there be in Walnut Grove? We’ve never met a single one.

Actually, Know-It-All Will Kaiser, while that’s technically true, a Spadelli family was mentioned in “The Creeper of Walnut Grove.”

I suppose the Ambiguously Ethnic Kids could be of Italian descent, huh?

All my nonsense aside, I’m fairly sure M. Fiore et al. are the real names of some of the schoolkid extras on the show, though I can’t connect the names to faces with any confidence.
I do know Wade Alberty (with a Y, not an I) played the Non-Binary Kid. Alberty, one of the most frequently appearing of the schoolkid extras (27 appearances as of this episode), received an onscreen credit for “The Election,” in which Non-Binary seconded a bully’s nomination of Mary for Class President.








Alberty was also a three-time Walnut Groovy Award nominee by this point in the series.
Then there was Michael Fiore, who played Bertie Hobson the Pig Child, the toddler who fed Dr. Briskin’s Holistic Medicines to his mother’s pigs in Season Two’s “The Gift.” Fiore would probably have been about six or seven by the time “The Cheaters” was filmed – pretty little – so I’m not sure who he is if he is in this story. With flaming red hair, you’d think he’d be pretty recognizable, but he’s not one of our redheaded regulars, most of whom have received credits.

I thought he might be the Winoka (Blind) School Kid I’ve come to think of as “Little Eli,” but upon consideration I think it’s not. Wrong hair color, wrong phenotype.

And John Bisom was a Little House extra who grew up to be a successful Broadway actor and singer; he was thirteen in 1978, and I’m pretty sure he’s the new kid this week – the one of who sort of looks like the Gelfling Boy, but isn’t.


Andrew turns and starts to trudge out, but Albert, who’s wearing Juniors-Cut Pinky, stops him and asks if he noticed his bad grade.

Andy says he doesn’t know what the fuck Albert’s talking about. (Paraphrase.)

But when Albert points out his failing grade, Andy welcomes him back into his acquaintanceship, and off they go to catch frogs.
After a break, a luscious new arrangement of “Mary the Nerd” brings us to the Old Sanderson Place in the moonlight.

At the dinner table, Andrew says he has a great idea: Albert could tutor him.
Completely fooled by Albert’s “bad grades” trick (which the Bead never would have been – I’m just saying), Alice says he hasn’t the standing to tutor anybody.
Alice says she’s decided to accept Nellie’s offer.
DAGNY: Alice must know this is a bad idea.
“I won’t have you continue to disgrace me with the kind of marks you’ve been getting,” she says. (Yikes. Arthur Heinemann must have had a mean mother, mean teachers, or some combination.)

The next day, the Non-Gelfling Boy and Not-Linda Hunt are folding up Old Glory whilst Alice literally drags Andrew across the street to the Mercantile.
WILL: Listen to the scales! “School music.”

In addition to “Mary the Nerd,” David Rose likes to use simple piano scales to suggest learning. (See the final scene of “His Father’s Son,” in which Mr. Edwards tries reading a McGuffey in the treehouse.)

Biting the bullet, Alice brings Andrew directly up to the dais of Harriet Oleson.

Nellie again lurks in the background, Bib Fortuna to Harriet’s Jabba.

Swallowing her pride, Alice grovels to Mrs. O and asks if Andrew can use Nellie as his tutor.
Harriet says oh, of course, it’s “God’s work . . . for the gifted to help the less gifted.” (If this is actually a Biblical reference it’s news to me.)

Nellie chimes in and says she’d be happy to tutor Andy, starting right now.
PEGGY: She has a lot of rouge on.

Nellie is wearing a new flouncy pink top, which we’ll call Prairie Bitch-Cut Pinky. (You can’t make this stuff up sometimes.)

Reader Delphinium recently noted that Nellie looks a bit like the young Malcolm McDowell – and it is so.


The kids head upstairs, and Mrs. Oleson says, “Imagine . . . my Nellie teaching the teacher’s son!”
Then she throws back her head in witchlike laughter – exposing some rather blackened back teeth or fillings as she does so. It works in this context.

Once Nellie has Andrew in her lair, she almost immediately reveals her secret academic weapon: cheating.

Andy, who you’ll recall was also shocked when Albert suggested shortcuts on the road to Sleepy Eye, can’t believe what he’s hearing.


“Who can remember all those things they want you to?” Nellie says sensibly. “Just clutters the mind.”
WILL: Wow, this takes me back to German class.

Andy says he was under the impression facts were essential for adults to know. (No longer true, unfortunately.)

Nellie says you can look up anything you need to know on the internet, I mean in books, “the way your mother does when she prepares the class lessons. . . . Why should she expect us to know more than she does?”
(Ha! See, Nellie feels the same way I do. Watch, she’ll mention Alice saying “telegraph” next.)


Andy says he’ll tell, but Nellie has already put together a sort of draft blackmail plan to prevent such a thing.

She smiles at him and says, “Judge not, lest ye be judged” – a saying based on Matthew 7:1.
Then she happily invites Andy to sit down and learn at her feet. I mean, not literally.

DAGNY: Why is she doing this? How does she stand to gain?
So, at the next quiz, whilst Mrs. G entertains herself with the famous dictionary . . .

. . . Andy pulls some cheat sheets from up his trouser leg.
GRANDPA KAISER: Did Post-it Notes exist then?
(My dad joined us at this point. We caught him up on the plot. And they do look like Post-it Notes.)

Meanwhile, Nellie has written notes on the lining of her jacket.
The topic of this quiz seems to be American history of a very basic nature; Nellie has written July 4, 76, 13, James Madison, Andrew Jackson, R.B. Hayes, and some other things.

David Rose, perhaps unsurprisingly, does not like these developments at all.

After the requisite school-vomiting shot, Albert invites Andrew to go frogging again, but Andy declines.
So he asks Laura, but – rather unbelievably – she says she wouldn’t hang out with somebody who gets such bad grades. (She hung out with Andrew before, right?)

“You should go home and study, like Andy!” she says, and witty Albert replies, “You go home and study. I’m going frogging, like me.”


That night, Jonathan Garvey naps in his “Terror of the Autons” chair whilst Alice grades Andrew’s quiz, gleefully. (I mean Alice is grading gleefully, not that Jonathan is napping gleefully . . . though I can attest such a thing as a gleeful nap does exist. I love napping.)

She wakes Jonathan to show him.
DAGNY: She’s stacked in this one.
PEGGY: She sure is.

“Would you believe that one afternoon with Nellie could make such a difference?” says Alice, who clearly does believe it. (One can imagine the Bead asking Alice the same question . . . but in a spirit of devastating skepticism.)


Alice calls Andy in and hugs him.
PEGGY [as ALICE]: “NOW you deserve my affection.”

WILL: Should she be revealing his grade before giving everybody their papers back? Isn’t this whole thing a conflict of interest?
DAGNY: It’s an effed-up storyline.

Alice asks what Nellie’s method is, and Andy says it’s based on “writing things down.”
GRANDPA KAISER: Well, cheating is a form of studying. You’re reading it, copying it down. It’s like you’re reading it twice.
WILL: Good point, Dad.

Alice rewards Andy by giving him an extra day of PTO.
Andrew’s aspect is uneasy, and he goes back to his bedroom, where guilt consumes him.
WILL: Well, he’s always been an honest kid. Carl Sanderson wouldn’t have felt the least shame about this.



I think some time passes then, and we see the class back in session, with Mrs. G complimenting Andrew and Nellie for their excellent scores once more.
PEGGY: She’s pretty dumb in this one.

G says even Albert is doing a little better.
She says there’s one more quiz coming up, and Nellie leans over to tell Stupid Andy not to get a perfect score every time or they’ll realize something’s up.
DAGNY: Nellie’s like the devil on his shoulder.


The quiz begins, with “M the Nerd” reprising on the soundtrack.
Only this time, Laura glances over and sees Andrew cheating.

We get a good look at Andy’s Post-it this time. Again, mostly basic: Washington, 1812, Abe, Gettysburg, Grant, Scott [Winfield? Dred?], and James Bc [Buchanan?].

It’s hard to imagine some of these notes being all that helpful, unless the quiz includes questions like “When was the War of 1812?” and “What was the diminutive form of Abraham Lincoln’s first name?”
Mrs. G notices Laura staring and says, “Eyes on your own paper, please.”
PEGGY: They don’t say that to kids anymore. They don’t have paper.

The next day, or who knows when, we see the Medieval Peasant disembarking the Mercantile whilst the breeze blows the curtains of Nellie’s open window upstairs.

We don’t get any specific indicators of the season, but with the open window and Nellie’s light jacket, I see no reason we couldn’t be in September of 1884-H.
Up in Nellie’s room, Andrew is actually studying, which Nellie finds absurd.

Nellie then gives Andy an order: Steal the answers for the big final test.

Nellie makes a blistering speech in which she says that’s the only reason she tutored him in the first place.
DAGNY: Of course, THIS is her Master Plan. With the answer key, she won’t even have to think about what might be on the test. She won’t have to think at all!

Andy protests, but Nellie shouts “You’ll do it!” You know, Adam-style.


This evil plot turn causes the Winds of Doom to blow up, as we see Jonathan Garvey has hitched up the team.
PEGGY: Where’s Pa? Where’s Ma?

Alice joins him in the wagon and the two head to town – leaving Andy to find the test answers in a drawer.
PEGGY: Is he gonna take pictures of it on his phone?

He begins copying, but is startled when the wind blows the door open. I find it interesting their front door has no latch. Were they not invented yet?

Andy gives a sigh of relief, but his peace is not long-lived, because almost immediately Laura materializes in the doorway, like the Commendatore in Don Giovanni.


Laura closes the door (which sure sounds like it has a latch to me).

Practically in tears, which is a little much, Laura confronts him.
Andy closes his tablet – it’s a “Big Chief,” just like Ignatius Reilly favored – and confesses all.


Laura says he should confess, since “the worst they can do is give you a lickin’.” (Like Charles, my parents used to threaten us with “a lickin’,” but never followed through.)

Andy refuses, and Laura, who actually is in tears by now, says she has to go.
PEGGY: Is he gonna kiss her?
DAGNY: Yeah, she should blackmail him into dating her.

Cut to the vomiting schoolhouse again.

Nellie takes Andrew aside to ask about the stolen answer key.
PEGGY: Nellie’s wearing the same outfit as Jamie Lee Curtis in True Lies.


Andy produces them, but Nellie says, “Not here!” and takes him to the Mercantile.
There we find – who else? – the Medieval Peasant, who’s had an unexpected prominence this season, and who is chatting with Mrs. Oleson.

Upstairs, Andrew says this will be the last cheating he does, and Nellie browbeats him for a while.
DAGNY: Andy’s also learning a lot about women in this episode.

She suggests he work on his “crib notes” – an expression not around till the 1930s.

At home, Andrew sits in his room hopelessly, staring at the lantern.
PEGGY: Does he start a fire? I always love when the kids start fires on this show.

My dad wasn’t impressed by the “lamplight.”
GRANDPA KAISER: That’s the fakest flame I’ve ever seen.

The day of the big test, Laura watches Andy cheat again.

As school lets out, we notice something strange. Johnny Cash Fusspot picks up an AEK and the Non-Binary Kid, who we know are not his children, whilst Quincy Fusspot, who we know is, walks off in another direction.


I have no explanation for this.
Andy starts running as fast as he can, heading up the shortcut.
After a commercial break, the Ingalls kids arrive home to Albert’s Theme, which, in a rare misjudgment, David has arranged for a trombonist who sounds drunk.

Charles is working in the yard, and Bandit is running around.
WILL: This is a late introduction of Pa to the storyline.

Pa asks how the kids did, and Carrie slurps, “I did fine,” even though she didn’t take the test.
Carrie has had a number of good scenes this season.










And of course, “The Godsister” is right around the corner.

Carrie goes inside and Albert fucks off somewhere, so Laura has a heart-to-heart with Pa, first telling him Albert has been deliberately getting bad grades.
Then she turns the subject to Andrew Garvey.
PEGGY. Whoa. Pa’s hair is extreme in this one.

She sums things up quickly, and Pa says he’s going to take Andy fishing.
And so he does, in the Creek.
PEGGY: Those are real fish. They better not say “No fish were harmed in the making of this show.”

Boy oh boy, does Pa make a speech. I’ll give it to you verbatim.
Listen to those frogs, huh? Puts me to mind when I was your age, nothin’ I liked better than goin’ night-froggin’. I used to sneak out at night so I could do it. I remember one time, I stayed out the whole night. Snuck back into the house. My folks were still asleep. They didn’t even know I was gone. I just climbed right into bed, and they never knew a thing about it.
PEGGY: Charles is so smooth.

But that’s not the only time I cheated when I was a kid. I guess all kids do. I remember I used to play hooky from school once in a while. I learned how to copy my ma’s handwriting, so I’d write them notes about how I was sick and everything. The thing is, I never felt very good about it. Guilty conscience, I guess. And one day, I just got my courage up, went and told my ma and pa. Tell you, my pa gave me a whippin’ I will never forget. You know, I never enjoyed anything as much as that. Cleared my conscience.
WILL: Andy’s gonna have to kill him now.

But actually, he’s grateful for the diatribe.
PEGGY: Why is “Climb Ev’ry Mountain” playing?

The next day, Mrs. Oleson trots up the steps of the school.
PEGGY: She’s really shining in this one.

Class is already in session. Apparently the test they just took was only the first of a two-parter.


Mrs. Garvey announces that the top two exams in Part One were by Nellie and Andrew.
Nellie smiles and claps for herself, but Andrew just stares ahead numbly.

WILL: He can’t live with this guilt. It’s like “The Tell-Tale Heart.”

Then he rises, and says, “I don’t deserve no congratulations. I . . . I cheated.”

(Patrick Labyorteaux is excellent in this. It’s really nice he finally got a good dramatic storyline to do!)
As G stares in stunned horror, he says he cheated on all the tests.
WILL: Oh my God, the shame of it! And Oleson’s in the room!

The class all stares at him – including Nellie.
PEGGY: Wouldn’t Nellie be nervous?
DAGNY: No. Nellie is smooth as shit.

Laura gives the sniveling creature a smile, though.

Albert just looks thoughtful.
PEGGY: Albert kind of looks like Winona Ryder.
WILL: Yeah, we know.


Mrs. G does not handle this well. She sits down shakily and simply says, “Class dismissed.” (We’ll see Eliza Jane do the same thing down the road, I suppose.)


Laura stops to tell Andy she’s proud of him.

As for Harriet Oleson, she throws her hands up and approaches the desk saying, “What a disgrace!” Then she starts spewing fake sympathy like a champagne fountain.

She goes on for a while – it might be my favorite Katherine MacG scene of the season, in fact.
After both mother and daughter give Andy a staredown, they exit.

Well, Andy has no explanation.
DAGNY: He should throw up.
WILL: Patrick Labyorteaux is so good at looking sick with misery. It’s his sweet spot as an actor.






But suddenly Laura reappears to mediate this session.
DAGNY: Yet another meddling Ingalls.
PEGGY: Know-it-alls.
WILL: “Look at us, we’ve got better judgment than anyone, cash on the barrel.”

Laura steps forward to Explain It All.
That night, Andy paces before the cold fireplace.
WILL: I don’t think they should give him a pass.
DAGNY: Well, it was sort of Alice’s fault.

(What do you suppose is in that little bottle next to the salt and pepper? Vinegar?)

Alice and Jonathan come in. Alice basically acknowledges it was her fault, and says she also regrets “puttin’ ye in with Nellie Oleson.”
PEGGY: Did she just turn Irish?

Jonathan Garvey says they’ve all learned their lessons; then he asks, “Has it taught you anything, son?”
“Yes, sir, I have,” Andy replies, which isn’t a grammatically acceptable answer to that question. Why doesn’t Alice pounce on that?


Jonathan comes forward, and they have a nice little scene where he tells Andy he loves him, forgives him, and is proud of him.

Then he takes him out to the barn and beats him.
WILL: What? Oh my God!
PEGGY: Oh no!

GRANDPA KAISER: See, we should have given the two of you a lickin.’ There’s still time, I guess.
So, you may have assumed this was the end – I did – but there’s a couple more threads to tie up.
That night, Pa takes Albert out to the Serious Conversation Place.
WILL: Is he going to tell a long story about how when he was a kid he pretended to be stupid, and then his dad beat him and he liked it?

Pa does begin talking, but Albert quickly calls him on his bullshit, saying, “I figure you wanted to talk to me alone, but then you just talk about how the air smells.” HA!

His techniques under fire, Pa skips ahead to the point.
PEGGY: This would be pretty hard to prove without a confession.

But Albert does confess, and Pa pounces, speaking so sharply even David Rose gives up trying to compete with him.
PEGGY: Yep, it was a trap. Albert should have expected it.
DAGNY: Well, he’s been living in Walnut Grove too long. His brain is devolving.

Pa goes on and on, even accusing Albert of “cheating God” by not using his brain properly, which is a pretty novel conclusion to draw.
WILL: Do you think the real appeal of Albert for Charles is that they have identical hair?
DAGNY/PEGGY: Yes.

Albert apologizes, but there’s no stopping Pa.
DAGNY: Landon must have thought he’d singlehandedly reform the American schoolchild with this one.

Albert looks uneasy, but Pa says all he has to do now is study, which is its own punishment. (I thought it was its own reward?)
Chuck looks pleased as shit with himself.

And now comes the final test. I mean, literally, it’s the day of the final test.
“All right,” says Mrs. G, “I’ll grade the test papers during the lunch hour and announce the results this afternoon.”
PEGGY: Wouldn’t it take longer than an hour to grade everyone’s tests?
WILL: Eh, Miss Beadle used to do the same thing.
DAGNY: Besides, Carrie isn’t taking it. That’ll save some time.

I’ve been meaning to mention this, but there are two new Nondescript Helens in this episode who’ve been showing up a lot this season.

Then G says, “Oh my, it is warm in here today!” and asks Nellie to remove her jacket.
Nellie refuses, so G forcibly removes the garment.

She doesn’t even look at the notes, apparently feeling Nellie taking the test closed-book is its own punishment and reward.
At lunch, Laura and her gang taunt Nellie.

Mrs. Oleson appears, eager to bestow the prize upon Nellie on behalf of the School Board.
PEGGY: The school’s looking pretty dirty.

They go inside, and Mrs. G hands back the papers, saying, “You all did very well.” So Nellie couldn’t have been relying on her answer key too much. She is smart, after all.
But not as smart as Albert, who got 100 percent.
The other kids all applaud, and G again dismisses early.
Mrs. O confronts Alice, who simply hands her the jacket and says, “Have a nice day.”

Furiously, Harriet seizes Nellie by the arm and drags her outside, where she chases her around, trying to hit her with her own jacket.


STYLE WATCH:
We get several closeups of Andrew Garvey’s weird shirt with all the little nubbins on it, which I find very interesting.

PEGGY: Look at Laura’s dress – they’re supposed to be poor, but that is a lot of material.

DAGNY: That’s my favorite Mrs. Oleson outfit. When she’s at her bitchiest, she always wears that one.

Strangely, Nellie appears to have a photograph of a kilted Scotsman in her bedroom.

Charles appears to go commando again.
THE VERDICT: Patrick Labyorteaux is terrific here, holding his own even when sharing the spotlight with Alison Arngrim (not an easy task!). And while the show has been intensifying Alice Garvey’s less pleasant qualities lately, Hersha Parady is always a pleasure to watch. Katherine MacGregor steals the show, a couple times.

UP NEXT: Blind Journey, Part One
I love the devil/angel graphics! 😈😇I actually like this episode, but I do agree. Alice gets on my nerves pretty quickly in this one. Great to see Nelly get her comeuppance at the end.
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I always thought this was Alison A’s best episode….her line deliveries are perfect in this one.
Your dad confused me with his disdain for the flame….they always really lit the lamps on the show, right? I know the lamps weren’t the source of the light, but are you saying there was an actual fake flame in this one?
You depressed me by highlighting John Bisom, because I was led to look him up…(ooh, is he the only person to appear on both Little House and Veronica Mars? I wondered, before answering my own question by remembering the existence of John Bennett Perry)…and learned he committed suicide at 47. Thanks, WG!
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Oh! And as for the lamp, I do think it is a real flame, though it does seem uncharacteristically bright and full. My dad’s eyes, of course, are not what they once were. 😀
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Yeah, I did see that – it made me sad too. But I didn’t mention it because I DIDN’T want to depress you, so you can’t blame me! You do your own research at your own risk, as I know too well.
Arngrim certainly is good in this one. I always prefer her subtler performances to over-the-top ones, and this one definitely qualifies.
Katherine MacGregor, on the other hand, never gave a subtle performance in her life, but I do love how she and Arngrim work in tandem in this episode. It isn’t always the case that the Oleson women function as such a team, and it made my week. (I love them staring down poor Andy – “We’ll leave Mrs. Garvey alone with her son . . . and her UNHAPPY DISCOVERY!” :D)
As usual, I came away from an episode I never really loved feeling it was better than I remembered. 🙂
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Let me start by saying that Alison and Patrick are so very good in this episode. Love them. But…
Laura and Albert feel so very out of character. Since when has Laura cared one bit about anyone else’s study habits? Since when did Albert not enjoying being the smartest kid in the room? I just wish they could have preserved the story idea without those elements.
and also I love Nellie’s clothes.
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Well, I’m inclined to agree with you about Laura and Albert, but for the sake of argument consider this.
1) Albert still thinks he’s the smartest kid in the room. In fact, he KNOWS he’s the smartest kid in the room, because who but the smartest kid could make everyone think he’s not smart anymore? He gets an inner thrill from this. Our show is not always consistent with Albert’s character (if you can imagine that!), but I think if you view his behavior in this one as a Machiavellian way of dealing with the Andy problem, it makes more sense.
And 2) Laura DOESN’T care one bit about Albert’s study habits. It’s her God complex – she also gets a thrill, not from being the Smartest Kid in the Room, but from being The One Who Motivates Others To Do Better. (Guess where she learned/inherited that?) She’s always had these tendencies, which probably began with her attempts to rehab Mr. Sprague’s personality, but they’ve recently intensified because for all her acceptance of Albert, she’s still threatened by him. She relishes her new role as leader of the children and wants Albert to know she’s the one in charge, the one with the best judgment and the one to decide what’s best for others. That’s really what all the Ingalls meddling is about, isn’t it? We saw a similar dynamic in our own house when Amelia went away to college. Now, Laura is not as nakedly power-hungry as Nellie – she expresses her supremacy her own way – but it’s still a power move to lecture Albert and tell him what he should be doing differently.
What do you think? I agree with all your other points.
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Hmmm… 🤔 Interesting…
I do not like Yelly Laura. The later seasons have too much of her screaming at people (especially Almonzo). It’s hard to watch at times. I guess she’s not exactly yelling here, but she is a bit heavy handed in her bossiness. I guess that is pretty typical of kids, though.
With Albert… let’s consider this: he’s only lived with the Ingallses for half a season (however long that is in the various timelines)… Let’s consider that perhaps, in spite of the “hugs all around” conclusion in Fagin, or the “call me ‘pa'” scene in Harriet’s Happenings, Albert is still not all that secure in Walnut Grove. Sure Charles loves him when he’s the bright “chip off the block” boy genius. But does he love him when he’s as dumb as a block of wood? Maybe, as an adopted kid, he was out to prove something to himself (that they don’t really love him, or only love him conditionally)…
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I think we’re on the right track
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Yay, The Cheaters! I love how David gives us that little stinger when the episode title pops up so that we know that it’s about to be some high drama in the Grove.
I completely agree with your assessment of Alice. I love her, and the Garvey era is my favorite, but she is not a very good teacher. She has that “doing it for the paycheck” vibe, completely lacking any warmth that would make a kid feel at home in her classroom. “You gotta learn, and I gotta teach, so here, does this work.” Imagine “Country Girls” era Mary and Laura having to face her on the first day of school! And yikes – posting everyone’s grades on the board so that everyone can keep track of everyone else’s progress? How does Sweet Colleen benefit from knowing Cloud City Princess Leia’s grades?? I’ve been teaching for 13 years, so I’ve paid much closer attention to how the school runs in my most recent rewatches, and Beadle is clearly the best teacher Walnut Grove had.
Andy’s “Ya big show-off!!” is one of my fave unintentionally hilarious LHOTP moments.
Charles pisses me off royally when he reaches soooooo far and equates what Albert did with cheating just so he can get in on the “we’re fussing our kids and beating their ass” bandwagon. Not the move, Pa!
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😆
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I remember watching this one when I was in the fourth grade. It made cheating look like a lot of work. I figured by the time Nellie and Andy got through going over all the material and writing all those notes, they had actually done enough studying to at least get a decent grade on the tests.
I could relate to Albert in this episode–by the time I was in the fourth grade, I knew it wasn’t cool to be smart.
I think Laura was given the “concerned friend” role in this episode because otherwise she wouldn’t have had much else to do. Much of Season Five was like this for her.
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I LOVE that you know who Ignatius Reilly is!! A Confederacy of Dunces is one of my all time favorite books!! Most people have never heard of it when I mention it.
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One of the funniest pieces of writing in the English language. When Dags and I visited New Orleans a few years back, I insisted we go straight to the statue of Ignatius in front of the department store 😆
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That is so cool!! It really is a hilarious piece if literature. Whenever I need a good belly laugh, I pull that book out. Dr. Pepper is my favorite drink, but after reading that book, I call it “Dr. Nut”. IE: “I sure could go for a Dr. Nut”! I wish I could try an actual bottle of Dr. Nut! 🤣🤣
When I have heartburn, I say my pyloric valve is acting up. So many great lines in that book!
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😆
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