Annabelle

Nels Into Darkness; or

The Flying Zaldamos

(a recap by Will Kaiser)

Title: Annabelle

Airdate: October 15, 1979

Written by Del Reisman

Directed by William F. Claxton

SUMMARY IN A NUTSHELL: It’s another tale of fat-shaming, cruelty, and soul-sickness as Nels’s estranged sister comes to town . . . with the circus.

[UPDATE: It came to my attention that I forgot about the Murdocks when I originally created the featured image for this one. I have now corrected the omission. – WK]

RECAP: Horrors abound in the real world, everybody, so let’s watch Little House and just hang on tight.

First things first: R.I.P. to Harris Yulin, who memorably played the alcoholic dad in “Child of Pain,” receiving the 1975 Walnut Groovy Award for Craziest Good/Bad Performance in that role.

And now, oh wow, we’ve come to “Annabelle,” a doozy of a story in a couple ways, and one I remember vividly from childhood.

We open with a sight which, while not really unusual, isn’t all that usual either, and vice versa. 

A man – he’s wearing a suit and a derby – is walking down a hill in the Greater Groveland area.

We know it’s Greater Groveland because he’s followed by a gaggle of delinquents led by one Laura Ingalls. 

The group also includes Albert, Andrew Garvey, Willie, Not-Gelfling Boy, Not-Dagny Kaiser, and the Girl with Hair of Deepest Auburn.

The kids are following this stranger Pied Piper-style as David Rose accompanies them with his “March of the Horrible Clowns,” previously used in a couple different stories. 

David always throws himself into the circus music – does he ever – but the circus episodes themselves have been a mixed bag.

First we had “Circus Man,” one of my least favorite Little House stories (sorry, Melissa Gilbert), in which super-annoying fake-Irish con man Red Buttons mesmerizes the Grovesters to the point of insanity, or at least inanity.

Then there was “Meet Me at the Fair,” in which another super-annoying fake-Irish con man tries to steal Mary from her boyfriend, Patrick 2, at the Redwood County Fair. 

More recently, we had “Blind Man’s Bluff,” featuring a circus-obsessed kid who tricks everybody into thinking he’s blind. 

He’s not fake-Irish, but fake-blind is close enough in my book, and he is super-annoying – every bit as much as the other two, if not more so. 

Anyways, the man in the derby calls to the kids to keep up, referring to himself in the third person, Hercule Poirot-style, as “London.”

Albert, that witty wag, asks if London’s last name is “Bridges”  – presumably a reference to “London Bridge is Falling Down,” the children’s song dating to the Seventeenth Century. (Or to the bridge itself, which dates back to the Thirteenth.)

London says no, that’s not his name.

WILL [as LONDON]: “Actually, my full name is MICHAEL London.”

AMELIA: That was bad, Pops.

Actually, this person says London is his only name, like Jackée. Or Napoleon!

A new writer today: Del Reisman (short for Delbert? I wonder), who has a pretty deep resume in TV production. 

As a writer and/or producer, he was a key team member on Peyton Place, Rawhide, The Twilight Zone and The Untouchables, and he also worked on The Six Million Dollar Man, Charlie’s Angels, Magnum, P.I., Cagney & Lacey, and Airwolf (with Ernest Borgnine and Jan Michael Vincent – remember that one?).

Additionally, he worked on Kung Fu, the notable Radames Pera vehicle.

Laura then asks if London’s name refers to London, England, or “London, Ontario.” (Would she have heard of London, Ontario? She doesn’t even know what a velocipede is.)

Saying, “I’m not from anywhere,” London offers the kids his sort of mythological origin story, likely inspired by the tale of Athena emerging “fully-formed” from the head of her father, Zeus.

(Oh, Clax is back as director.)

From his affected air of mystery, you might think London’s in showbiz, and you’d be right.

AMELIA: Who is this guy? He reminds me of Professor Harold Hill.

Laura steers the conversation to the heart of the matter, and London praises all women for having good sense.

Long story short, London is looking for kids to help set up the circus he’s brought to town. 

(This is the first story where a circus comes to Walnut Grove. I wouldn’t think it would be a lucrative destination for entertainers, would you? Then again, L. Moody thought it made a good venue for a boxing match.) 

In return for their work, London says, the kids will each get a nickel ($1.50 – big spender), as well as a bonus of more value: a free ticket to the circus. 

This he describes as a “ducat.” The word for an international gold currency (sort of a proto-Euro), it was also a slang term for any ticket of admission.

The actor, of course, is Ken Berry, best known to me as Vicki Lawrence’s dim-bulb son Vint on Mama’s Family. (An underrated show, quite funny and surprisingly smart.)

Berry was also known for his regular role on F Troop (which costarred Big Jim “Bull of the Woods” Tyler Forrest Tucker), but I never watched that.

Berry had regular roles on Dr. Kildare and Mayberry R.F.D., and guested or danced on The Ed Sullivan Show, Dick Van Dyke, Rawhide, Andy Griffith, Laugh-In, The Brady Bunch, Sonny & Cher, The ABC Afterschool Special and CHiPs.

But those are small fry compared to Mama’s Family and the other Big Greats on which he appeared: The Love Boat, Fantasy Island (seven times!), Small Wonder and The Golden Girls.

Berry didn’t do too many movies, but he was in Herbie Rides Again.

Berry’s life story is interesting. A one-time professional dancer, he served in the U.S. Army with Leonard Nimoy. 

Nimoy advised him to move to Hollywood, just like Dom DeLuise does with Kermit the Frog in The Muppet Movie. 

Upon arriving there he was discovered and cultivated by Carol Burnett and Lucille Ball (separately), who put him into TV productions.

Finally, the IMDb credits him as cowriting the Big Brother theme, but I’m pretty sure that’s a different Ken Berry. 

All the kids yell “Yay!” (they seem a bit old to be yelling “yay,” but why ruin the fun) and run off.

(Dagny joined us at this point.)

Next, we see the circus grounds, where America’s First Female Bounty Hunter is leading some horses past the tents.

Laura, Albert, Andy and Willie are rolling out some carpets. Willie notes that Nels, who apparently commissioned this stop on the circus tour, is his father, and London says he’ll tell him what a good job his “progeny” has done helping.

Then London says he’s too busy to participate in the big parade they’re having, but he’ll catch everybody on the flip side.

After he’s gone, we get this rather tortured play on words:

WILLIE: What’s “progeny”?

LAURA: Issue.

WILLIE: If it’s something about me, it can’t be good!

I expect you might have struggled to understand this joke – I did the first couple times. I’m not going to explain it, first because I don’t want to insult your intelligence, and second because it’s not funny even if you do understand it.

Matthew Labyorteaux offers the gag an assist, shaking his head in good-one-bro fashion, but there’s no saving it. 

And now, the circus parade!

The circus grounds are apparently north of town – up in Feral Goat Country, I expect. 

We can tell this since the parade units are coming in via the derelict north road that has been unusually prominently featured this season.

First we have a clown drum major, followed by a small marching band.

DAGNY: Are those Mounties? I know, I should be so lucky.

The band is playing “Entrance of the Gladiators,” arguably the most famous circus tune of ’em all – though anachronistic, since it wasn’t written until 1897. 

Next we have a small Asian elephant – small for an elephant, that is – accompanied by an upright-looking lady in a pith helmet. 

On the sidelines, we see Laura, Albert, Carrie, Boobilicious Caroline, and Willie.

We can also see Jonathan and Andrew Garvey.

Not Alice, though – in fact, we haven’t seen her since the anthrax outbreak last season. (Alice! Alice! Where the fuck is Alice?)

Additionally, there’s the Mustached Blacksmith Who Looks Like Adult Matthew Labyorteaux (in his smithy’s apron), and H. Quincy Fusspot, who, curiously, is sitting on the blacksmith’s shoulders. (We’ve never had any indication they’re related before – the Smithy just came to town this season.)

The rest of the parade consists of clowns, tumblers (one in over-revealing pink tights), and (funnily) what looks like a bunch of stray dogs. (Not evil ones, though.)

(The pink-tights guy is Bob Yerkes, a stuntman with a resume to impress even Jack Lilley! Just a small slice of it includes Airport AND Airport 1975, Buck Rogers, The Dukes of Hazzard, Poltergeist, Ghostbusters, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Honey I Shrunk the Kids, Stephen King’s The Stand, Batman Forever, and Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia.)

(Not only that, he played Boba Fett in Return of the Jedi! Yes, the same Boba Fett who one day would return to the franchise and kill one of its most beloved characters – Bib Fortuna!)

There is also a “fat lady,” a traditional feature of circus sideshows (which we discussed in detail for “Blind Man’s Bluff”). 

Fat ladies were popular circus attractions in the Nineteenth and early Twentieth centuries, though they rarely headlined the show – probably because audiences were more likely to encounter big people in ordinary life than they would, say, a “human torso,” conjoined twins, or the like.

Fat ladies were sometimes dressed as babies to ironically emphasize their size, and this particular lady, who has loud red hair, is dressed similarly, in a lacey pink “baby girl” dress.

Also among the spectators in this scene, I spotted Almanzo, Nellie, an AEK, Not-Linda Hunt, the Non-Binary Kid, Young Art Garfunkel, Not-Gelfling Boy, the Very Sour-Faced Little Girl, Deepest Auburn, Poppin’ Bonnet, and Dark Bonnet, a roundish lady previously featured in “‘Dance With Me.’” (Her bonnet today isn’t that dark, though – I gotta remember not to nickname extras based on what they’re wearing when they first appear.)

On the porch of the Mercantile, the noted folk trio Harriet, Charles and Jon are enjoying the hell out of the parade.

The clown drum major, a white-faced Pierrot with a sad mouth and a snub nose, steps aside to watch the others pass, and Nels approaches to greet him.

Nels asks the clown where London the manager is, but this clown is a mute one, and mimes that London is passed out drunk.

(Yes, it’s perfectly obvious to us in the audience that the clown is London himself, but remember, this one is largely for kids, so let’s lighten up.)

Watching the clown’s mimery, Charles roars with laughter. 

AMELIA: Landon’s Adam’s apple really worked hard.

WILL: Landon is A COMPLETE SCREAM in this one, so pay attention to him.

Nels tells the clown that the performers can all have a free meal at Nellie’s after the parade.

I don’t know how good I think Ken Berry’s clowning is, but whatever, I don’t know what I’m talking about. Most of what I know of clowns comes from horror films, but as I’ve said before, I think it’s too bad this honorable and ancient art form has become stuck in a genre ghetto.

Then Mrs. Oleson spots the fat lady and says, “Oh, look! Did you ever see so much avoirdupois?” (A bastardized French word meaning, in this context, “weight.”)

She cackles – and we see Nels notices the fat lady, too.

Mrs. O then says (to Almanzo? to Charles?), “I keep forgetting you’re a farmer. Fat! All that fat!” (I shall keep a tally of the fat jokes/slurs in this one and reveal the total at the end.)

With a frightened look on his face, Nels turns and rushes into the Mercantile as Harriet continues squawking about the fat lady.

Later, we see Nels alone in his bedroom, staring blankly.

Harriet, wearing a new rust-colored suit, comes in and asks if he’s going to be coming over to the restaurant. 

WILL: Why did she change?

DAGNY: She wants to look impressive at the lunch. It’s reasonable.

Nels says he’s not feeling well.

Harriet ties his tie for him and insists he come. She says tons of people have come to town for the circus, and it’s their job to sell shit to them.

We cut to the interior of Nellie’s, where Harriet is sitting at a table by the window.

And coming through the door are the fat lady and Billy Barty.

DAGNY: Oh, it’s that guy!

Yes, it’s Billy Barty, who was very much that guy in the Twentieth Century.

Arguably the most famous little person in Hollywood history, Barty began his film career in 1927, when he was three years old, playing Mickey Rooney’s younger brother in the Mickey McGuire short film series. (Barty appeared in over forty of the shorts.)

Contrary to popular belief, Billy Barty was not in The Wizard of Oz, but he was in scores of other movies and TV shows, including Bride of Frankenstein, The Spike Jones Show, Peter Gunn, Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Rawhide, My Three Sons, Laugh-In, The Brady Bunch (sort of), The Waltons, Chico and The Man, Redd Foxx, Charlie’s Angels, CHiPs, Hart to Hart, Trapper John, M.D., GoBots, The Golden Girls, Moonlighting, The Rescuers Down Under, DuckTales, The ABC Afterschool Special, Gummi Bears, Frasier, The New Batman Adventures, and The Extreme Adventures of Super Dave.

Barty was in a number of Krofft puppet TV productions.

He was on Love Boat and Fantasy Island. (Apparently he didn’t get along with his fellow little actor Hervé Villechaize.)

Like many little actors, he was typecast in fantasy films, including Ralph Bakshi’s The Lord of the Rings, Legend, Masters of the Universe, and Willow.

He was in UHF, with “Weird Al” Yankovic.

I thought Cyndi Lauper was in that too, but I was thinking of Vibes.

He was in two Chevy Chase comedies, Under the Rainbow (about the making of The Wizard of Oz – he was nominated for a Golden Raspberry for it) and the suspense/thriller parody Foul Play. (My sister Peggy and I adored those when we were little. Hey, we didn’t realize how dirty and racist they were!)

It’s appropriate he would be featured in this episode, since he spent much of his life battling prejudice, stereotypes and misinformation. He founded associations and foundations that gave grants and scholarships that helped many little people with their careers, and he worked with President George H.W. Bush to pass the Americans With Disabilities Act in 1990. (I’m sure the Act will soon be repealed for its DEI-friendliness.)

Billy Barty used little person rather than other terms for people with dwarfism, and once, when he was asked whether he preferred the word dwarf to midget, he replied, “Why don’t you just call me Billy?” (A fantastic quote.)

He doesn’t have that significant a role in this story, and we’ll meet him again down the road, but I couldn’t wait that long to give his C.V.

In the kitchen, Albert is helping Ma with plating and presentation whilst Nels mopes in a corner. Looks like roast turkey is the special of the day.

Albert forgets to take a plate out to the dining room, and Ma makes a goddam-kids face. (Ha!)

Laura comes in gossiping about the mute clown.

Ma notices Laura’s heaped about five pounds of mashed potatoes on a single plate, and Laura says it’s for the fat lady.

In his moping corner, Nels gulps.

Ma suggests they shouldn’t assume the lady wants more than a regular-sized portion.

DAGNY: That was a good call, Ma.

Out in the dining room, the performers are all laughing and enjoying their lunch.

The fat lady looks up and notices Nels crossing the room. She opens her mouth as if to speak to him, but he blows by her table without eye contact.

Harriet complains that Nels has been hiding, and notices Willie going upstairs with a plate of food. 

“I got a tall order!” Willie says. 

Harriet then stares at the fat lady, who now looks unhappy.

Talking with her mouth full, as usual – actually, it might be fuller than usual – Harriet says to Nels, “Unbelievable! She eats like she’s a starving elephant!”

Actually, the lady is eating perfectly normally. It’s Harriet who’s eating like an animal, though perhaps more like a hippo than an elephant, if the following video is the standard by which we judge.

I like Katherine MacGregor’s performance quite a bit in this one. It’s as broad as ever – well, maybe that’s not the best word considering the subject of this story.

What I mean to say is, MacG is bending over backwards to show that Harriet’s comments here are repulsive, not amusing. This may seem obvious enough, but since this story is largely for kids, it’s a good choice. No child, not even a nasty-ish one like I was, would see her jokes as wit to be emulated.

Suddenly upset, Nels jumps up and says he has to go to the store.

The fat lady watches him go. 

Outside, Willie’s “tall order” remark is explained when we see him hand the plate out the window to a stilt-walking clown.

OLIVE: Does he have to wear that all the time?

AMELIA: Those are his real legs.

The “stilted” clown is played by John Hayes, a performer with a colorful life which included acting in The Shaggy D.A., directing an episode of Tales From the Darkside, producing and directing exploitation films in various genres, and dating Rue McClanahan.

Hayes also was nominated for an Academy Award in 1959 for a short film he made, called “The Kiss.” You can watch it here:

Anyways, in a funny touch, we then see the stilt-walker use part of the roof as a table.

That night, at the circus compound, we see the performers all gathered. Some look ready for bed, whilst others are dressed in comfortable leisurewear.

OLIVE: The clowns don’t take their makeup off?

WILL: No, it’s tattooed on. It was the old days!

They’re mostly clowns, and there’s a hairy-chested acrobat. He’s Nathan Stein, I believe, who was on Faerie Tale Theatre and The Charmings (I was the only kid in the country who loved the latter) and who often played jugglers.

There’s also a bald “strong man,” whom I didn’t notice in the parade. He’s William Clark, who wrestled and acted under the name “The Great John L.” – a tribute to John L. Sullivan, the Nineteenth-Century boxer mentioned in “The Fighter.” (L. Moody tells Doc that Joe Kagan “ain’t exactly no John L. Sullivan.”)

Clark appeared on The Munsters and played a genetically engineered “boarman” in the Hannibal Applewood vehicle The Island of Doctor Moreau. 

He also kept mountain lions as pets, a hobby that caused him legal trouble from time to time.

London appears, and Billy Barty tells him “Annabelle” became withdrawn and depressed after lunch.

Annabelle, of course, is the fat lady. She’s in her quarters alone, reading, but when London peeks in she smiles and invites them all to come in.

London says he and the other members of her circus family are worried about her.

Annabelle shakes her head and reveals that Nels Oleson is her brother.

Nobody gasps, but Annabelle’s friends murmur with surprise.

Annabelle says, “He didn’t know I was with the circus,” then adds, “and I didn’t know he was an important businessman here in Walnut Grove.”

ALL [laughing]: Bwaaaaah! Important businessman! Nels – that’s rich! etc.

Annabelle says she and Nels are estranged, and that she would have welcomed a reconciliation, but he wouldn’t even acknowledge her in the restaurant. “I knew he was still ashamed of me,” she says.

Angered, Billy Barty says there’s nothing wrong with her size, or his size, or with any of them.

London agrees, saying “people on the outside” often don’t have the same values as they do.

Billy Barty is still angry, saying, “When her brother looked away from her, he looked away from all of us!” (That’s exactly how I feel when I see how trans people get treated today.)

(I’ll just add, we’re lucky to live in Minneapolis/St. Paul. Come all ye misfits, weirdos and creative types! You’ll find family here.)

Anyways, Billy Barty says, “Why don’t we pack up and go!”

But, addressing him as “Owen,” London says the circus has a legal contract with the town, and the show must go on.

“Ah, who cares about him anyway,” Owen says then. “We’re your brothers – not Mr. Oleson!” I like this guy.

Touched, Annabelle hugs him.

“I’m gonna be all right,” she smiles. Several of her friends touch her hand before they go.

But when she’s left alone, she still looks unhappy.

Annabelle is played by Harriet Gibson. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find much in the way of biography about her, but she did appear in several TV shows, including The Red Skelton Hour and Bewitched  – often in the stereotype of the operatic “fat lady.” (The one who sings.)

Interestingly, she also did voices for Ralph Bakshi’s Lord of the Rings.

That night, the Olesons are lying in bed. Nels is unable to sleep, and while Harriet is sleepy and only half-interested, she says she can tell something’s really bothering him.

Nels makes up some excuse and, well, excuses himself.

He goes downstairs, and at first you think he’s going to ask some Eighteenth-Century figurines for advice.

But Nels simply breaks down and sobs.

AMELIA: He’s not a good crier.

OLIVE: Eh, could be worse.

WILL: Shh. I like him in this one.

And I do think Amelia is wrong on this one. Richard Bull cries just as Nels would.

WILL: I also like his nightshirt. When I was in a barbershop quartet, we wore nightshirts like that for our Christmas concert, with Santa hats.

DAGNY: That sounds about right.

Anyways, David accompanies Nels’s crying with Moonlight Sonata–type arpeggios on the soundtrack.

The next day, it seems, Willie nails up some posters promoting the circus whilst Not-John Ritter (I think) sits on Nellie’s porch and reads.

Mrs. Oleson comes out as the Midsommar Kid and Quincy F come running by.

Strangely, the posters mention neither date nor time nor place for the event.

DAGNY: I thought that said “Landon’s Circus.”

WILL: That’s what I said! Mimi didn’t think it was very good. He said, “My name’s London,” and Albert says, “Is that your first or last name?” and I said, “Well, my full name is MICHAEL London.”

[AMELIA laughs.]

WILL: See? It is funny.

AMELIA: No, I’m just laughing because you felt the need to repeat the whole story.

(Haw haw. I do find it amusing Landon gave this family-friendly showman a stage name so close to his own.)

Willie, a born marketer, suggests putting posters on the privies because “that way everybody will see them.” He’s absolutely right. In fact, many health services advertise above urinals for that reason.

Mrs. O compliments her son, quite nicely, on his smart thinking.

A lot of people are wandering around town, including Not-Richard Libertini as well as a woman dressed sort of like Heidi.

Harriet comes up to Nels and nuzzles him.

AMELIA: Do we ever see her kiss Nels like that?

WILL: Sometimes she does. She’s really the sex maniac of the family.

But Harriet’s mainly jazzed about how much money they’re making off the circus.

DAGNY: Harriet’s really poured into her corset.

Nels doesn’t want to talk, so Harriet asks him to take some signage over to the circus.

Nels again makes some excuse, and, having had enough of his bullshit by this point, Harriet says what the hell is the matter with you this week?

But she’s in such a good mood, she cuts him some slack and says she’ll deliver the sign herself . . . only before she goes, she starts cracking up thinking about, you guessed it, the fat lady.

Nels, who throughout this entire episode looks like he’s suppressing a desire to scream (more so than usual!), says nothing.

At the circus, Mrs. Oleson and London make some little jokes to each other as the First Female Bounty Hunter, Laura, a guy who looks like a Canadian expatriate, and other miscellaneous Grovesters all work on tasks behind them.

Actually, I think the Canadian Ex-Pat might also be a bounty hunter.

Charles approaches. The first thing he does is compliment Mrs. Oleson on the lettering on her sign. It’s a rare thing, but I like when these two get along.

Chuck says to London that as the town’s director of human services, his mind is always in overdrive, and he thought it might be fun for the blind kids to get a visit from one of the circus performers.

London likes the idea. He suggests Annabelle, and Charles goes off to talk to her.

WILL: I like that Charles isn’t awkward talking to the circus people.

DAGNY: Well, he’s a social worker. You have to know how to talk to everybody.

Laura then approaches London and asks where the sad clown is, etc., etc. (I don’t love this storyline.)

London tells her to get back to work.

ALL: Whoa! Hoo hoo! Somebody finally told her!, etc.

Next we see Nels driving past dead trees (isn’t it summer?) and up to the Oleson Institute for the Advancement of Blind Children.

What he doesn’t expect to find is Annabelle in the classroom talking to the children, who today include Sue Goodspeed, the Blind AEK, Not-Little Eli, the Sharp-Dressed Blind Kid (not dressed that sharply today, though), Janis, Pigtail Annie, Blind School Princess Leia, and a kid we’ve never seen before.

Mary, Adam and Hester-Sue are all there, listening with wonder. (This one has a lot of characters in it.)

Charles is also there. (Why? Why?)

Annabelle confirms to us that those dogs in the parade were in fact part of the show. (They actually get a credit, as “Bob Moore’s Mongrels.”)

Then she asks the kids to guess her role in the circus, and all the kids shout out answers.

Hester-Sue calls on Sue Goodspeed to repeat what she said. Oddly, Sue revises her guess from “lion tamer” to an acrobat who wears a “real daring” outfit and gets carried around by the elephant.

Annabelle chuckles with the grownups and says, “Not really!”

(Annabelle’s outfit in this scene might not be “real daring,” but it is real beautiful, and she has white roses in her hair.)

Then Hester-Sue calls on the new kid, Roscoe. (Well, the credits spell his name “Roscue,” but Hester-Sue doesn’t pronounce it any different from the traditional way.)

Roscue guesses she’s a magician’s beautiful assistant who gets sawed in half.

Annabelle laughs again.

Roscue is De’voreaux White, who went on to have a successful acting career in the 1980s and 1990s.

He’s best known as the friendly if irresponsible limo driver Argyle, who despite being easily distracted helps save the day in Die Hard.

White was also in The Blues Brothers and Places in the Heart, and appeared on The Jeffersons, What’s Happening!!, Hill Street Blues, Diff’rent Strokes, H2H, 227, and In the Heat of the Night.

Finally, he was a regular on Head of the Class, a show I liked when it was on but have no distinct memories of and have never really revisited. How well it would stand up to serious analysis, I couldn’t say.

Annabelle drops the clue that she’s in the sideshow, and Roscue guesses she’s the bearded lady.

Everybody laughs, including Annabelle, and she says while bearded ladies certainly do exist, she’s not one of them.

Finally she tells them she’s the fat lady, which for some reason they don’t believe. (?)

Sue Goodspeed in particular sneers at the notion. What’s her problem?

WILL: What’s your problem, Goodspeed?

Then Annabelle invites the kids to come up and feel her body.

OLIVE: Whoa! This is weird!

It is, and of course you wouldn’t do it today – but I also think it’s nice. Annabelle is kind of the opposite of a razzle-dazzle showbiz person. She’s inviting the kids behind the curtain and showing them that circus people are real people, not freaks or mythical characters. And what better way to do that with blind kids?

AMELIA: So they just know instinctively to avoid her breasts?

WILL: . . . They’re just blind, they know how human bodies are built!

Annabelle starts having fun with the students, encouraging them to take a trip following her “equator.”

Then Nels walks in.

Annabelle stops short, and Nels tells Hester-Sue he’s brought some goods for the school.

Red-faced, Nels rushes away as Annabelle watches from the window with a what-the-fuck expression on her face.

That night, Laura is sewing in the Common Room at the Little House whilst Pa reads The Home Mechanic. (Have we ever seen Laura sewing? I mean, I’m sure she was taught, but since she’s never done it onscreen I would assume either she’s bad at it, just completely disinterested, or both, like me at my day job.)

Laura notices Pa has fallen asleep, but when she tries to take the book he says sleepily, “Whoa, whoa, I’m readin’ that.”

(Such a dad thing. When I was a kid, my own pa would fall sound asleep in front of the TV. Neither calling his name nor banging cymbals nor riding a bike through the living room would wake him. But change the channel on that TV . . .)

Pa says Ma’s cooking is so good, it improves the experience of sleeping, and Ma joins them.

WILL: I thought that was a big goblet of wine at first.

DAGNY: Yeah. [as CAROLINE, slurring:] “What’sh wrong with my cooking?”

Ma compliments Laura on the dress, which is apparently being made for somebody called “Christie Norton.”

Laura says she hates Christie, and Stupid Chuck says he can’t understand why, because Christie’s so pretty.

That gets Laura growling and snarling like a Tasmanian devil.

Apparently this Christie Norton is paying Laura to make her the dress. (I have a very hard time believing that, but whatever.)

Ma also says, “Now, when people pay us to do a job, we don’t talk behind their backs.” (What? Since when is that a rule?)

Albert appears and says, “I’m going to bed. I’m pooped.”

AMELIA: Did they say “pooped” in those days?

WILL: I don’t know. They might have.

Well, it’s unclear. The origin of “pooped,” meaning exhausted, is disputed. The most authoritative language resource I consulted suggested it first appeared in the 1920s. But some sources suggest it was already around in the Nineteenth Century.

As for where it came from, it might be a nautical metaphor originally meaning “feeling as overwhelmed as a ship when a wave crashes over the poop deck” (apparently an undesirable thing to have happen). 

But that’s disputed too.

Well, I suspect in the Little House TV Universe it does have a maritime origin, and Albert picked it up from Kezia.

Wherever he got it and whenever it originated, Ma finds it distasteful. (I suspect Karen Grassle would find Walnut Groovy equally distasteful, not without reason. Even so, we’d love to interview you, KG!)

Before turning in, Albert says if she wants to ask Almanzo Wilder to the circus, she can have his ticket.

(Albert the Matchmaker is becoming a minor thread on this show. Remember how he somehow arranged for Toby Noe to date two women at once, like in Micki + Maude?)

Ma gives Laura a look that’s ambiguous. A touch of wariness, I think.

“Why would I want to ask Almanzo?” Laura asks unconvincingly.

AMELIA: Don’t they all know she likes him already?

WILL: Yes, they all do.

Laura insults Albert, but really it’s just to change the subject.

Ma doesn’t seem to be done with it, but thinking quickly, Laura excuses herself to go apologize to Albert.

“I’m sorry I was rude,” she says to him.

OLIVE: I’ve never said that to you in my entire life, Mimi.

AMELIA: No. We’ve never had an interaction this positive.

She tells Albert that of course she wants the ticket for Almanzo, she just didn’t want Pa to find out.

She goes back downstairs. Stupid Albert calls down to her that she better ask Almanzo before he makes other plans, and she rolls her eyes.

WILL: That was really un-Albert-like. He’s the cleverest person on this show, he would never make a blunder like that.

The next morning, Laura heads to the Feed & Seed to ask Manly out. She practices some pickup lines first.

But this quickly degenerates into just fantasizing about him.

Eventually she takes the plunge, and Almanzo says, “Hi, Beth! . . . Can I interest ya in a sacka grain?”

AMELIA: He’s kind of a poor man’s Mark Hamill.

But when Laura pops the question, Manly says he’s already got a date.

AMELIA: I don’t like her eye makeup.

OLIVE: I don’t like HIM. He’s creepy and I don’t think he’s that good-looking.

Dean Butler, if you’re reading this, they don’t really mean these things.

Painfully, Laura goes on to explain why she wanted to ask him, which is irrelevant at this point. But I guess she doesn’t know what else to say.

At that point, a pretty, slender woman of about Almanzo’s age appears.

OLIVE: Ugh! Who’s this tramp?

Again, I apologize, reader. When Olive was born, they put forceps around her head, and her brains really got shaken up.

Anyways, she’s Christie Norton. Laura points out they’re already acquainted.

Christie says she’s come to buy some “autumn seeds” (seeds you plant in the autumn, apparently), and as Laura glumly walks away she huffs “I hope that child finishes my dress on time!” (Is she just being bitchy for bitchiness’ sake, or is she really threatened by Laura? The latter seems unlikely.)

WILL: I don’t know why she would see Laura as a rival. All Almanzo has ever said about Laura is “But Beth’s just a little girl!”

OLIVE: Ha! Good Almanzo, Papa.

WILL: Thank you.

Laura says Christie’s dress is almost done and she’ll drop it off at the Norton house tomorrow. She speaks to her quite familiarly, as if they were in school together, but we’ve never seen Christie before. (She isn’t to be confused with Christy Kennedy, Laura’s dopey but good-natured friend from the show’s early seasons.)

Also, the actor playing Christie Norton, Wendy Schaal, is ten years older than Melissa Gilbert, so Christie probably would have been out of school by the time Laura matriculated.

We all felt we recognized Schaal, but we weren’t sure from what. I know this will result in the index of tags being a thousand pages long, but she also has had a great career and it would be improper not to go through it – well, properly.

On TV, she appeared on Rhoda, Fantasy Island, Happy Days, The Love Boat (twice), Knight Rider, Duet (Peg loved that one too), Full House, Murder, She Wrote, Friends, Star Trek: Voyager, The X-Files, Six Feet Under and Family Guy.

In addition to that last one, she currently plays the mom on Seth MacFarlane’s American Dad!

She also was a regular on the first iteration of It’s a Living (Ann Jillian era). 

And she was a regular on Nearly Departed, the NBC sitcom starring Eric Idle as a ghost that ran a paltry four weeks in 1989. (Dags and I both loved that show.)

She was in Innerspace and The ’Burbs (both Joe Dante films) 

She was in the Spielbergian *batteries not included, and according to the IMDb, she was script supervisor for a movie called Gacy, about the serial killer. (That can’t be right, can it?)

Plus, she was in a movie called Loving Annabelle!

Laura stumps away, and soon she comes upon Albert stabbing a hay bale whilst the Sad Pierrot mopes in the background.

AMELIA: I like those hooks! We should get a set.

DAGNY: For what?

WILL: Well, we could stick one in the haggis on Burns Night.

Laura tells Alb she won’t need his ticket after all – a fact he seems to find funny.

Then he stops joking and says, quite firmly, “Almanzo is too old for you. It’s as simple as that.”

ALL: All right, Albert! Finally someone with sense! etc.

Laura says according to the custom of their time, older men frequently marry younger women. We discussed this way back in Season One, and in fact the average age for young people to marry in the 1880s wasn’t exactly eyebrow-raising (early twenties for women, mid-twenties for men).

However, that’s not to say Laura is wrong that age-gap relationships did occur, of course – and as the age of consent in Minnesota in 1883 was fifteen (in some states it was as low as ten), no doubt there were some marriages that would alarm modern viewers.

Laura says the custom is popular among “famous couples,” but she doesn’t name any, and they drop the subject rather than get into a quarrel.

Albert gets back to work, and Laura goes to sit next to the Sad Clown.

“I’m as sad as you are,” she says.

OLIVE: Oh my God. . . .

“We’re alike, you and me,” she goes on – “both sad and we can’t tell anybody why.”

OLIVE: Oh my God, Laura!

“You see,” she says, “I love someone. His name is Almanzo. I call him Manly.” She goes on to say she doesn’t think her efforts to win his heart are working.

OLIVE: Oh my God, you don’t know this guy! He could be a pedophile.

WILL: Yeah, like that other clown later on.

DAGNY: I didn’t talk to strange clowns when I had feelings like this. I would just go scream into my pillow.

The clown kisses her hand and says, “Qué será, será.” (A fake-Spanish expression dating to the 1500s.)

London reveals his identity to the surprised Laura.

WILL: It’s easy to tell it was him.

OLIVE: I couldn’t tell.

AMELIA: Is he going to blackmail her now?

Laura is worried London will blab about what she told him, but he says he won’t, provided she doesn’t tell any of the Grovesters he’s the clown’s alter ego.

London smiles – a weird but not entirely repellant effect through his “sad” makeup.

He then invites Laura to “take your mind off your troubles” by taking a temp position as a circus clown herself.

Laura’s delighted, and then London extends the invitation to Albert, who’s been eavesdropping, as well.

“One for all, and all for one!” Albert exclaims – a well-known saying from Alexandre Dumas’s 1844 novel The Three Musketeers. 

(Apparently the exact phrase originates in Shakespeare, though it seems to me he means something different by it than Albert does:)

The aim of all is but to nurse the life

With honour, wealth, and ease, in waning age;

And in this aim there is such thwarting strife,

That one for all, or all for one we gage;

As life for honour in fell battle’s rage;

Honour for wealth; and oft that wealth doth cost

The death of all, and all together lost.

(Note that significant “or.”)

Then we cut to the Olesons’ living quarters, where Mrs. Oleson is fitting Nels with a scarlet ringmaster’s jacket. (I have a smoking jacket in the same colors.)

Nellie is kicking back in the parlor. I don’t know who’s minding the hotel. Caroline?

Nellie says, “Don’t squirm, Pa.” It’s always weird to hear her call Nels “Pa,” isn’t it? It doesn’t happen very often; and she never addresses Harriet as “Ma.”

Willie comes in and gives Nellie a giant peppermint stick.

AMELIA: Are those cigars?

Apparently since the Mercantile is sponsoring the circus, Nels gets to be honorary ringmaster. Again, seems weird, but so is practically everything else about this story, so don’t worry, it all works out in the end.

Nels is unhappy. “A ringmaster ought to be loud and funny,” he says; but unlike Adam last week, he doesn’t suggest his wife take over the role for him.

Harriet doesn’t improve Nels’s confidence much when she recommends he simply tell jokes about the fat lady. “You could compare her to a ship,” she says. “‘Presenting the S.S. Annabelle!’” 

She adds a few additional nautical fat jokes, which for the umpteenth time makes us miss Kezia.

“Or a whale!” Nellie laughs, entering into the spirit of things. 

OLIVE: Would they even know what whales are? 

Willie chimes in then, saying he should actually introduce the elephant as Annabelle, and they all snicker.

All except Nels, who suddenly throws down his jacket and shouts, “That’s enough! That is enough!”

Shocked, the others stare at him, and finally he screams, “That fat lady is my sister!”

Harriet starts laughing again, but he grabs her hard and says intensely, “She is my sister.”

And with that, he marches out into the night.

(I think Richard Bull is terrific in this one. He rarely gets a moment in the spotlight, and he makes the most of it in this story.)

Well, Nels heads straight to the circus tents, with David Rose giving us a sad, very un-circus-like waltz on the piano. (More Barry Manilow than Julius Fučík.)

(Now that I think about it, there’s something Dean Butler-ish about Barry Manilow, isn’t there?)

Or is he more Linwood Boomerish?

Annabelle calls out to him. (To Nels, I mean, not Dean Butler or Linwood Boomer or Barry Manilow.)

Annabelle’s in her loungewear and is doing some sort of fancy embroidery, I believe.

“Don’t worry, Nels,” Annabelle says, frowning. “I won’t tell any of your townspeople about us.”

“I don’t care if you tell them or don’t!” he says, and Annabelle makes some well-aren’t-you-just-a-prince-type comments in reply.

Quickly and devastatingly, Annabelle recaps their history. When she and Nels were kids (she is the older sibling, or at least Harriet Gibson is older than Richard Bull in real life), Nels would get up before dawn and scamper out of the house so he wouldn’t be seen walking with his embarrassing sister.

(One thing that’s always seemed strange to me in this one is that Annabelle has a pronounced Eastern Seaboard accent and Nels doesn’t. An affectation she picked up in show business?)

(Stories that involve Oleson Family History often obscure as much as they illuminate. We don’t know much about else Nels’s side of the family, except that 1) they probably were Minnesota-based, 2) his mother’s maiden name was probably Lundstrom, and 3) that his mom had a nephew, Olaf, who married a wealthy woman in Europe and had a son named Peter.)

Anyways, Nels starts to deny Annabelle’s charge, but finds he can’t lie to her. 

And Annabelle says: 

You know, I have a place in this life. I was put here on this planet for a purpose. Maybe not an exalted purpose, but a purpose. . . . I make people laugh! And that makes them feel good. You know, that’s not a bad thing to do, Nels. 

(A very accomplished debut from Del Reisman.)

Well, Nels steps forward immediately, bows his head and says, “Annabelle, forgive me.”

But Annabelle says bitterly, “There’s nothing to forgive.”

Nels gives examples of how he was cruel to her again and again. It is hard, reader, to imagine the Nels we know being a bully at any point of his life. But for the sake of the story we’ll just have to accept that he was, and that he has changed a great deal since his youth. (Perhaps being bullied by his own wife was what changed him.)

[UPDATE: Reader Vinícius reminds me that we have seen nastiness occasionally from Nels. Notably, in “As Long As We’re Together,” Nels tells Willie he doesn’t have to worry about his weight because the fat gene is on Harriet’s side. (This makes sense in the context of the whole conversation, which I’m not going to summarize for you because I’ve already done so!)]

[Anyways, this is hardly a joke Nels could make, Vinícius points out, without “forgetting that he has a sister who happens to be a circus fat lady, and that this same attitude alienated her in the past.”]

[That’s a great observation, and I had forgotten about the “fat gene” incident. However, I think it is possible Nels just hadn’t thought about Annabelle in years and was just making a fat joke like “normal people do,” or like they did on TV shows in 1978, at least. He didn’t know Annabelle was in the circus until it arrived, and most likely that was the key factor triggering his memory (and conscience) at last.]

[Or maybe it was uttering this genetic “observation” itself that triggered it! Nels drops out of Part One of “As Long As We’re Together” pretty much as soon as he says it, after all. I expect it turned to ashes in his mouth and he spent the rest of the day dwelling on it. And has been ever since! – WK]

Well, Annabelle says actually, she should thank him for making her realize she’d be happier away from losers like him. Ouch.

Annabelle adds that she loves her circus family, and doesn’t regret leaving the Olesons for a second.

London calls from offscreen, and Annabelle looks Nels up and down and laughs, “Skinny . . . still so skinny.”

Then she gives him a dismissive hand gesture and says, “Go on home to your family.”

WILL [as ANNABELLE]: “Plus, that restaurant of your daughter’s has such skimpy portions!”

Nels stares after her for a while, then leaves.

AMELIA: Let me guess, he has Charles facilitate a reconciliation.

After a break, we see Laura has almost finished Christie Norton’s dress. She bares the gopher fangs devilishly.

AMELIA: Oh, does she leave holes where the nipples go?

We quickly transition to Christie’s house. We don’t know where it is, but apparently her family is also in the John Wilkes Booth cult.

Like a wicked stepsister or something, Christie insists that since Laura was five minutes late delivering the dress, she only deserves half her fee.

WILL: Is that her hair?

DAGNY: No, it’s a snood.

(A lot of snoods this season.)

But Laura takes this surprisingly well. In fact, she says she won’t accept any payment for the dress.

She notes that she traces her values to the ultimate authority, and departs.

Later, Nels’s dark night of the soul continues.

AMELIA: Oh, is he going as Jon Pertwee for Halloween?

Harriet appears and screams he should be getting dressed.

She sits down at her vanity to make some final adjustments (and some hilarious faces).

AMELIA: She wouldn’t put a light on?

WILL: What kind of perfume do you think she wears?

DAGNY: . . . Shalimar. But it probably wasn’t invented yet.

Horrible Harriet tells Nels Annabelle will be gone soon and their problems will be over.

Nels picks up his jacket; the show must go on.

WILL [singing]: “Riiiiiiiidiiii Pagliaaaaaaccio . . .”

And then we see the circus performers parading into the tent for the show. In the audience are Ma, Pa, the Garveys (Alice too!), Not-Linda, Non-Binary, the Misbehaving Little Girl, Zaldamo, Christie, the Matthew-Labyorteaux-looking blacksmith, Mrs. O, Willie, Carrie, the Midsommar Kid, Nellie, Mrs. Foster, and Baby Grace.

Owen the clown sticks his face in Baby Grace’s and makes her cry.

The blind school kids are there too.

WILL: Some fans say they wouldn’t really bring the blind kids, but I bet they would. The sounds, the music.

OLIVE: The smells.

DAGNY: Yeah, plus they had to have them because the whole thing’s a version of “The Blind Men and the Elephant.”

Ha! I’m not sure about that, but maybe so.

The show hasn’t even begun, and Pa is already laughing his ass off and clapping like crazy.

Baby Grace is still crying.

Nels steps forward, looking quite proper as a ringmaster.

He tries to announce the next act (“the Saunders Troupe”), when two clowns appear: London and Laura. Harlequin to London’s Pierrot, Laura’s wearing a long thin fake nose.

The Saunders Troupe consists of the overexposed acrobat in the pink tights from earlier and his counterparts.

They don’t get much to do, but the tumblers’ resumes are so interesting I’ll do them quickly.

The other pink-tighted guy is Russell Saunders (presumably the leader of the troupe), a dancer, acrobat and bodybuilder who appeared in Singin’ in the Rain, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (I played Adam Pontipee in that one in high school, but I was a disaster), Spartacus, The Thing (1951 version), The Poseidon Adventure, Airplane!, and The Goonies.

He also modeled for a famous Salvador Dalí painting of Jesus.

As for the women, they’re Paula Crist and Sandi Gross. Crist was in several Planet of the Apes properties as well as in Earthquake, The Towering Inferno, Logan’s Run (!), Wonder Woman, Battlestar Galactica, Star Trek: The Motion Picture, and Fright Night (I loved that in high school).

And Sandi Gross, in addition to appearing in Sister Act, was Carrie Fisher’s body double in (the 1983 Bob Yerkes/Bib Fortuna vehicle) Return of the Jedi!

As the clowns run around, Pa narrates the show for the blind kids. (Then again, he’s having so much fun he might have done that whoever he was next to.)

Laura the Clown is trying to dump a water bucket over London’s head, and she throws the water over the blind kids’ section . . . only it’s confetti, not water.

Pa hoots and hollers and tousles kids’ hair.

Some other clown in an Uncle Sam getup comes and pesters Christie, as male entertainers often do with hot girls in the audience, I’ve noticed.

She looks about as entertained as I would be.

[Christie’s “new” dress is indeed beautiful, but reader Leslie writes that it’s not really new; in fact, it’s the same dress Ma wore for Christmas at the Kansas Little House in The Pilot. Thank you, Leslie!]

[I would like at this point to apologize formally to any fans out there who are knowledgeable about dressmaking, clothing generally, and women’s clothing in particular, because I really know nothing about these topics and probably don’t give them enough consideration when viewing these stories. I must drive you bonkers! – WK]

Behind them in the stands we can see the Alamo Tourist and Carl the Flunky. Carl’s grown a mustache.

Nels then announces “Tarra the baby elephant!”

(Baby Grace is still crying.)

Tarra comes in, led by her upright-looking trainer in the pith helmet.

The lady is played by real elephant trainer Carol Buckley, and Tarra by a real elephant named Tarra, who was five years old at the time.

Buckley and Tarra have interesting stories. Buckley started out as a circus animal trainer, but she grew not to like that, so eventually she took Tarra and started a refuge for elephants, several of them retired circus performers.

Tarra, on the other hand, began her life in show business. I’m not sure where she came from, but she was rescued by Buckley from a tire store, where she was used as a mascot when she was a baby.

At the refuge, Tarra apparently became best friends with Bella, a dog – a relationship that was covered by CBS News in 2009.

Sadly, Bella died in 2011, but Tarra’s life continued to be quite interesting, including events such as a lengthy custody battle. 

And as of this writing, Tarra is still alive! She turned 51 in February (elephants have about the same lifespan as humans) and is apparently doing very well. They should have brought her to the reunion last year!

I myself won an elephant ride at the circus when I was about eight years old. It was a prize in a coloring contest, but I’m sure they just picked the winner out of a hat, since my picture was terrible.

Zaldamo claps like an idiot, but Christie is not enjoying herself. When I was a kid, I loved circuses, but the last one I saw when the kids were small really depressed me. They made a pig walk on its hind legs. 

The clowns run in again, and this time Laura throws her bucket of confetti onto Nels.

Baby Grace is still crying.

In the stands, Willie says the bucket act would be better with real water, and when his female relations disagree, he adds, “You people, you don’t know what’s funny.”

(No one could ever accuse Jonathan Gilbert of not knowing what’s funny.)

Then the strong man and Billy Barty come in to do a comedy weightlifting routine.

Pa howls and howls, and Ma notices one of the clowns is Albert.

In the stands, Almanzo notices Christie’s sulking and makes a what-a-bitch face.

Laura chases London around with the bucket again, and this time she empties it right into Christie’s face – only this time it is full of water.

OLIVE: Oh my God!

Pa screams his fucking head off, saying, “It had water in it!”

Christie stands up in horror – and then her skirt falls off!

OLIVE: OH MY GOD!

AMELIA: That’s even better than doing the nipples.

Everyone shrieks with laughter (except Jonathan Garvey, who averts his eyes politely).

And then Pa screams, “AND SHE’S IN HER BLOOMERS!”

With everyone distracted, Laura runs up to Almanzo and kisses him on the lips.

OLIVE: OH MY GOD!!!

Amelia: Laura Ingalls, the slutty clown?

Almanzo appears to go into some sort of suspended animation at this.

WILL: It’s too bad Mr. Hanson isn’t here for this circus. He would have loved it.

Laura runs off, outing herself to Ma as she goes.

Nels then introduces “the Fearless Zellers,” a tightrope act.

WILL: “The Flying Zaldamos” would be a better name.

We see another familiar face smiling in the crowd.

ALL: Oh, Eliza Jane! Hooray! Oh, she made it!, etc.

We already did the male rope walker’s bio, but the woman is Dorothea Sabina Nock. (Little House is her only credit.)

[UPDATE: Wonderful reader Judy Sprague (some descendant of Ebenezer’s?) writes that Dorothea Nock was a member of the “Nerveless Nocks,” a family that’s continuously operated a circus troupe since at least 1840! Lucky Judy says she personally saw the Nocks perform in the 1980s.]

[I dug a little bit, and it seems like Dolly Knock (so nicknamed to distinguish her from her mother, also named Dorothea and also a circus star) is still around, and so are the Nerveless Nocks as a performing entity, which is great to see.]

[Thank you, Judy! – WK]

On the sidelines, Annabelle gets ready to perform as she and Nels look at each other.

DAGNY: Do they sing a little duet together?

OLIVE: Yeah. “Don’t Cry Out Loud.”

Nels introduces “Annabelle and company.”

AMELIA: She looks like a wedding cake.

In the stands, Harriet can’t keep herself from saying nasty things about her sister-in-law.

But Nels watches her act thoughtfully.

And when the circus is over, Nels calls for attention, and proudly introduces himself as Annabelle’s brother.

Harriet sits down in shock, and Annabelle looks at her brother warily.

Everyone claps and cheers.

AMELIA: Oh, I’m glad they have Nellie and Willie clapping, that’s nice.

[UPDATE: A couple readers have commented on how Nellie’s personality changes this season. Vinícius writes:]

I think we may be seeing the early signs of Nellie’s character development: after Nels reveals to his family that the Fat Lady is his sister, Harriet and Willie can be seen later at the presentation laughing when Annabelle shows up, but Nellie is remarkably serious. Then when Nels announces Annabelle as his sister and they reconciliate in front of everyone, she (and Willie) cheer enthusiastically. Nellie will still have a moment or two of brattiness, but her mean girl attitude starts to fade throughout this season before she meets Percival, whom I think will serve as a catalyst in her ongoing, if slow maturation proccess.

[And E adds:]

Nellie shows empathy before her enthusiastic applause! While Harriet jokes and makes rude comments in the stands, Willie laughs but Nellie doesn’t even smile, and she looks really uncomfortable. And right after Nels blew up “She’s my sister!” at the family the night before, she immediately looks sober and sorry.

Annabelle walks out, and her wary look melts into a smile. 

As she and Nels hug and laugh, the swinging Rose-music swells.

AMELIA: Totally Music Man music.

In a funny touch, we can see Almanzo is still there at the end. He didn’t follow Christie out – ha!

Bum-Bum-Ba-Dum!

STYLE WATCH:

Nels wears a new suit of very dark brown.

The strong man wears a handsome dressing gown, the latest in a series of handsome dressing gowns featured on this show.

Christie does look gorgeous in her new dress.

Annabelle wears a lovely Chinese robe with frogging.

The outfit she wears to the school is spectacular.

Charles appears to go commando again.

THE VERDICT: 

AMELIA: That was great.

OLIVE: Yeah, I love that one.

WILL: I like it too. It’s more fat-positive than the one with the fat handyman. Because even though they all loved him, they also were like, “You can’t blame people for thinking he looks awful.”

AMELIA: Yeah. In this, Annabelle’s like, “You know what, fuck you if you think I look awful. I look fabulous.”

I adore Annabelle the character, who performs, teaches, reads, does embroidery, loves, hurts, and has the best friends in the world. She is a whole person in a way not always seen on this show. I wish I had all of her good qualities.

More compassionate and sophisticated than last season’s “The Man Inside,” “Annabelle” the episode transcends a sitcom setup to become something almost magical. It’s surprisingly moving, and quite broad-minded (as it were) in its view that really, people can choose their families, and sometimes it’s better when they do.

The circus folk are warm and credible. It’s interesting how rarely we see a community authentically presented on this show, other than Walnut Grove of course. (Maybe Willow Prairie. . . .)

The acting is also wonderful. Harriet Gibson brings strength and tenderness to the title role, Richard Bull shines, and while Charles is basically a glorified extra in this one, Landon is at his most charming.

The whole thing’s quite funny, too.

Whew, thanks for indulging me – I know that was a lot of credits to go through, but Little House people have appeared in so many cool things, I couldn’t resist.

And in case you’re wondering, and I counted fourteen unique fat jokes in the story. Fewer than I thought, actually! Brings us up to a total of 47.

Oh, and happy Pride! Bye-bye!

UP NEXT: The Preacher Takes a Wife