Divorce, Walnut Grove Style

It Is Always Paneful to Explain One’s Jokes; or

Manly Indeed

(a recap by Will Kaiser)

Title: Divorce, Walnut Grove Style

Airdate: November 10, 1980

Written by Don Balluck

Directed by Michael Landon

SUMMARY IN A NUTSHELL: Almanzo is a prick to Laura, but through a comic contrivance she winds up apologizing to him. Also, NAKED ZALDAMO.

RECAP: Well, our run of deadly-dull, barely Ingalls-family-related stories (four in a row, but it seemed like a hundred) has come to an end. 

(Well, I guess “‘The Silent Cry’” was okay.)

Does today’s episode improve on them, and by how much? Let’s find out.

Little House skipped a week after “Portrait of Love” – or they didn’t exactly skip it, but they did re-run the double episode “The Fighter,” possibly to tee up the return of Joe Kagan a little later this season. (A lovely, somewhat underrated story.)

We begin with a sweaty Almanzo leading two horses across a field or yard. (Neither appears to be Barnum.)

AMELIA: Yeah, a Manly one!

WILL: Yeah. I’m not sure you’ll like it, though. . . .

The title is “Divorce, Walnut Grove Style,” which in my view deserves at least one hyphen. Possibly two.

AMELIA: He looks appropriately dirty.

DAGNY: Yeah. Certainly compared to the new show.

AMELIA: Rated thirteen-plus for foul language? What do they say?

WILL: I don’t know. I just watched this one twice, and I didn’t notice anything.

The title is likely a reference to the seventies anthology TV series Love, American Style – an inspiration for Love Boat, btw – and its forerunners Divorce Italian Style and Divorce American Style. (There were a lot of Something Something-Styles during the mid-late decades of the Twentieth Century.)

Dean Butler gets a “guest star” credit in this one.

Manly and his equine companions are revealed to be at home. Laura emerges from the house and calls him for supper.

And then holy fucking shit, the next thing we know, Zaldamo is naked!

He sits, reader, in a bathtub in what’s presumably his and Laura’s bedroom – a room I don’t think we’ve seen yet. (So far, unlike most of the show’s other couples, Laura and Almanzo have not been depicted in bed together, possibly because of their age difference?)

I’m not sure why A-zo would bathe there instead of outside, like they do at the Little House? Dripping water is very hard on flooring.

Alamanzy, who’s been singing “Oh, Susanna” (Andy Garvey’s old favorite) calls for a towel, but Laura says there aren’t any clean ones, to which he responds with uncharacteristic (?) nastiness.

Dean Butler looks very fit, with a natural blond pelt on his chest, quite unlike Michael Landon’s carefully manscaped presentation.

AMELIA: Manly indeed!

After drying himself off with a bedsheet (offscreen), Almanzo complains about the hard work of clearing the field (which situates this story in the springtime of 1887-M).

I grew up in Wisconsin farm country, and when I was a kid local farmers would pay children to “pick stones” in their fields in the spring. I didn’t do it myself, and the child labor aspect of it was probably illegal, but my friends were happy to make the money. I know enough about it to confirm it is indeed hard work.

Forty-Year-Old Laura is workin’ away at some papers in the dining room, and Zaldamo turns his nose up at the leftovers she’s warmed over for dinner.

With irritation, Zaldamo points out Laura is working far harder than she needs to. I have offered this same criticism to friends, family members, and coworkers myself; but – not to brag – but no one’s ever accused me of the same thing.

Laura says she’s still trying to prove herself to the Grovesters, many of whom think she’s too young to be teaching. (Laura turned sixteen four years ago, counting in Little House Universal Time, or LHUT.)

WILL: This show hasn’t dealt with how Laura adjusts to living here after a lifetime in a one-room cabin with tin cups. Now she’s got ferns, statues, giant stoves, upholstered furniture. . . .

WILL: That Lazy Susan could have come from a nicer Wisconsin supper club.

WILL: What the fuck’s in those bottles, oil and vinegar?

DAGNY: Yeah, salad dressing.

WILL: Come on. . . .

AMELIA: When do they ever have salad on this show?

DAGNY: They don’t. And if they did, they wouldn’t prepare it like that. It isn’t Chez Panisse.

WILL: Yeah. It isn’t even Chez François.

Z-mo points out the food is undercooked and inedible. (I thought it was leftovers? How can leftovers not be cooked enough?)

Then, out of literally nowhere, Zaldamo produces a guitar.

Though it’s never been mentioned before, Z apparently has singer-songwriter aspirations.

Laura asks him not to play, even upstairs with the door closed, because it will interfere with her ability to grade papers.

DAGNY: She should be glad she didn’t marry a bagpiper.

The two bark and bite at each other; then, stunningly, Assmuncho says, “We have no life together.”

DAGNY: Oh my God!

WILL: Theirs is a fairytale romance, isn’t it.

DAGNY: Yeah. What a son of a bitch.

If you were born in the Twentieth Century, you might have “learned” TV Little House like I did – piecemeal, catching episodes in syndication, in no particular order, devouring those which captured your interest and changing channels if they didn’t. (Tell the truth, even you completists have episodes you never made it all the way through.)

This explains the “hmm, don’t remember this one” effect when viewing the series in sequence and coming to a story like “A New Beginning.” I’m sure I did encounter it at some point in the past; I simply changed the channel after about five minutes, because who wouldn’t?

It also explains why we as an audience remember Laura and Manly as a happy couple, despite their relationship being presented as noxious and ill-matched in practically every notable story so far.

Sure, we may shake our heads when Almanzer breaks their engagement and insults Charles’s hold on Laura, or calls off their wedding because a crop failure injures his pride, or cruelly and irrationally forbids Laura to work, or offers such an insulting appraisal of their marriage as “we have no life together” because Laura asks him to keep the noise down. 

But we can always assume there were a lot of less memorable stories that present them as a model couple . . . right?

Unfortunately, watching the stories in order makes one realize their marriage really is based on very little. 

Almanzo, introduced as a likable-enough Zaldoofus in “Back to School,” soon drowns that likability (sorry, Ellen) when he begins to show romantic/sexual interest in “Beth.” 

That interest is not even borne of genuine fondness, but of jealousy – of his brother Perley Day, of Chad Brewster, and, later, of Pa. 

We have no reason to doubt his sincerity when he repeatedly dismisses Laura as a “little girl.”

It is only when she starts outgrowing Manly Worship that he takes an interest, and that interest is consistently paranoid and possessive. 

He rarely if ever tells her (or other characters, or the audience) what he sees in her, or likes about her.

And once the Zaldonkey has reoriented Laura’s attention to himself (where it “properly belongs”), we see the “good side” of their relationship depicted most memorably . . . in the scene where they sit by the silver shores of Willow/Cattail Lake, having no idea what to say to each other.

Still, thin gruel though that might be, it’s preferable to the complete shitshow we’re seeing now.

Zaldouche-o covers a lot of ground in this massacre, taking shots at Laura’s cooking, housekeeping, and personality.

DAGNY: He reminds me of my cousin Scott. This is why his first marriage ended.

I would not say “Beth” does the best job defending herself here, but certainly there’s no question who the Principal Asshole is.

He complains a lot more, closing by saying, ridiculously, “I come home to a half-cooked meal in a house I can’t sing in, because you’ve turned it into a library!”

WILL: See what I meant, Mimi?

AMELIA: Ah, that wasn’t that bad.

WILL: What do you mean?

AMELIA: I mean it was a good fight. Nice and light, not marriage-threatening.

WILL: Did you notice today’s title . . . ?

AMELIA: Holy shit, “Divorce Walnut Groovy Style”!

WILL: It’s “Divorce Walnut GROVE Style.”

DAGNY: We haven’t hit Divorce Walnut Groovy Style yet. Though there HAVE BEEN DAYS . . .

(Once again, I must thank Dags and the rest of my long-suffering family and friends for putting up with this preposterous Project.)

That night, what do you know, we do see Laura and Manly in their bedroom together. It looks quite spacious; perhaps improbably so.

Laura enters wearing her jammies. Her hair, of which she has a surprising quantity, is down.

The Wilders sit in bed gritting their teeth silently, then Almanzo gets up and storms out.

DAGNY: See, if this were real life, she’d give him the finger after he left.

Manly comes downstairs to very weird “sneaky” music with a sort of unusual “starburst” effect on the synthesizer. (It’s quite psychedelic-seventies-sounding, like a rejected effect from Fly Like an Eagle, or something.)

I don’t know that we’ve heard this specific music ever before; you’ll recall that due to a musicians’ strike, they repurposed other David Rose scores and compositions for most of Season Seven’s episodes, rather than having der Rosenmeister expertly hand-picking the selections, as has been the case up till now.

Zaldunderhead stomps downstairs and flounces down on an Edward-Gorey-ish Curious Sofa.

Dean Butler gives us some fanny-waggling slapstick, falling off the sofa and spreading his legs in the direction of the camera. (I don’t think you can make anything out, though.)

(Apologies to readers in the U.K., where I understand “fanny” means something different than it does here. Here it means arse.)

AMELIA: He’s faking. He’s like those soccer players who get bumped and then roll around on the ground for five minutes.

DAGNY: Yeah. Why doesn’t he sleep in Eliza Jane’s old room?

The next morning, Laura dutifully pours Manly’s coffee, but shoots him a look of contempt.

Without saying goodbye, she grabs her pile of schoolbooks (which include the Famous Dictionary – see Dictionaries) and marches out. (Where Young Laura would run, Forty-Year-Old Laura tends to march.)

On the playground, Willie is playing with a new curly-haired, newsie-lookin’ Kid With Very Red Hair.

Also seen are the Midsommar Kid, Not-Art Garfunkel, Not-Shannen Doherty, an AEK, the Misbehaving Little Girl, and a little girl who looks a bit like a newt or eft.

As our commentators have mentioned, Willie’s now at an odd, in-between age, having finally pupated out of the larval nasty-little-puke form he inhabited for the past six seasons.

I still like him, though. And in the proud tradition of Charles Ingalls Himself, his wavy hairstyle seems to be getting bigger and bigger.

Speaking of whom, Charles now emerges from the Mercantile, where he almost drops his packages as Willie and Curly Red rush by him.

“Sorry, Mr. Ingalls!” Curly Red squeaks.

(Curly Red, credited as “Timothy,” is played by Eric Taslitz, who acted on The ABC After School Special, Quincy, and Galactica 1980, and who grew up to be a prominent stockbroker/financial advisor in Los Angeles.)

Chuck chuckles good-naturedly at the young knaves.

Then he stops to harass Laura because his meddlin’ sixth sense tells him she’s having marriage, um, Zaldifficulties.

WILL: What’s on Pa’s hat? Some kind of pin? Does he always have that?

DAGNY: I don’t know. They’re not giving us a good look at it. Looks like it might be a bunny?

Unable to milk much gossip out of her, Pa invites the Wilders over for dinner, but Laura says Manly’s going to Sleepy Eye. (She implies that despite not having left yet, Almanzo might be back within 24 hours, which is impossible, but what the fuck else is new on this show.)

Weird ponderous music then takes us over the Feed and Seed, where Almanzo is loading up his wagon.

We see ads in the background for Howard & Sons furniture (real, British, established 1820) and Morgan Company wheat seeds (fictional, but mentioned twice before on the show). 

DAGNY: Is the building gonna explode? It kind of has that Landony explosion feeling.

Not this time. A slender young woman approaches, and Almanzo greets her as “Brenda Sue.” (The dialogue in this scene was clearly not redubbed, but just recorded on the set, which is unusual, and noticeable.)

“Aren’t you the hardworking family man?” Brenda Sue, who’s very pretty, asks wryly. (To her credit, the actor resists any urge that may have struck her to put on a Southern accent!)

Brenda Sue teases Manly about marrying somebody else, saying it’s “such a waste.”

Gallant Zaldickhead does not say actually, Brenda Sue, I’m quite happy to be married to Laura. He just smiles flirtatiously.

BS mentions that she’s recently been to Chicago, where she got a song published. 

Two references to singer-songwritering in a single episode is also unusual, since we’ve met few trained musicians of any kind in Groveland to date.

The most notable of these, of course, was the tragic music teacher (and Philadelphia Orchestra founding member) Granville Whipple, who overdosed after botched attempts to teach Nellie, Willie and Mary flute, trombone and musical transcription, respectively.

Young Roy Collins, Jr., showed promise as a bugler, though his interest in the instrument was what drove poor Granville to his death.

Hester-Sue is a tremendously gifted singer (impressive stamina, too), though it’s unlikely she was formally taught.

Pa and Mr. Edwards are capable self-taught fake folk musicians. 

Toby Noe is a talented ragtime keyboard player, though he likely learned those skills in booze halls rather than a credentialed conservatory.

Toby and Charles both performed with some sort of pick-up ensemble at Larson’s barn dance in 1882-I, but where they came from is unknown.

Harriet Oleson claims to have studied operatic singing at some point, and we see Nellie vocalizing at the piano too – presumably under the tutelage of her mother, if the quality of her singing is any indication, that is.

Mrs. Foster, on the other hand, has a lovely down-home church-lady voice, surprisingly similar to that of June Carter Cash, in fact.

There is of course the mysterious Walnut Grove Marching Band, which has performed at several different events, but whose provenance and membership the show has never cared to explain.

Crazy Old Man Wiggins was a virtuosic if probably insane harmonica player we once observed on the porch of the Mercantile. 

(Later he moved to Winoka, but then so did everyone else in Walnut Grove.)

Finally, there’s that lady who sits at the organ at Groveland Congregational but does not play.

Meanwhile, Laura stands in the busy thoroughfare, watching her husband talk to this comely miss.

Almanzo is just telling Brenda Sue (“Longworth,” per the credits) he plans to buy a copy of her song in Sleepy Eye when Laura (you guessed it) marches over.

Laura is rude to BS and bites Manly’s head off for no real reason.

Not put out in the slightest, Brenda Sue smirks and says, “My, my!” 

I’d say it actually has the impact of a “my, my, my!”, the actor being so good she can pull off the full effect in just two syllables. (And again, points for no fake Southern accent.)

That actor is Tisch Raye, who had recurring roles on Guiding Light and Dynasty and who also acted on The Dukes of Hazzard, Charlie’s Angels, and the Jim Antonio vehicle Delta County, U.S.A.

With her obvious sophistication and self-control, Brenda Sue seems destined to join Miss Claire Lawrence in Little House’s pantheon of Brazen Hussies We’re Supposed To Hate But Actually Don’t, but I suppose we’ll see about that.

Back at the Old Wilder Farm, the Holstein stands guard like Cerberus.

Inside, Laura and Zaldickweed are screeching at each other about the Awkward Affair of Brenda Sue Longworth.

Manly protests that an interest in singer-songwritering is all he ever shared with Brenda Sue.

Laura, who’s kneading bread dough, screams and screams, then Manzo calls her stupid, and she storms out.

(Sadly, she does not hit him over the head with the dough.)

Meanwhile, at the Little House, Pa is installing a new picture window.

But when Laura bursts in and slams the door, the window breaks.

DAGNY: Ha ha ha ha ha! I loved that.

She declares she’s leaving Almanzo. Speaking of whom, we now cut back to the Wilders’ kitchen, where Manly is finding it impossible to prepare food for himself.

WILL: This show thinks a lot of burned-food jokes, doesn’t it?

Zaldopey is soliloquizing (another tipoff this is a comedy). 

AMELIA: Is he wearing blush?

DAGNY: Definitely, yes.

Dean Butler hams it up when he hears wheels in the driveway. Thinking Laura is home, he puts his feet up and pretends to be relaxing.

Only the visitor is actually Harriet Oleson! What on earth can she want? 

DAGNY: Harriet in a bonnet – a rare thing.

“Oh, Zaldamo!” Mrs. Oleson says pleasantly. 

AMELIA: That’s awesome.

DAGNY: Yeah, she’s the best.

Mrs. O is supposedly delivering some yard goods to Laura out of the goodness of her heart. (If you believe that, reader, I’ve got an Old Rustic Bridge I’d like to sell you.)

Noticing Zaldamo is wearing an apron, Mrs. Oleson quickly deduces that the Wilders’ marriage is on the rocks, even though her own husband wears an apron every day.

Imbecilically, but unsurprisingly, Zaldamo tells Mrs. O everything about it before throwing her out.

AMELIA: That was stupid. She’s gonna put it in Harriet’s Happenings.

DAGNY: I wonder if anybody’s ever done a podcast called Harriet’s Happenings. It would be a great title for one.

Quick as a whip (and bosoms a-bouncin’), Harriet zips back to the restaurant screaming for Nellie.

When she hears the news, Nellie makes a face that is unquestionably funny, but which doesn’t really tell us much about her specific emotional reaction. 

WILL: Arngrim is terrific, but they have no idea what to do with Nellie anymore. Percival gets all the funny lines and bits these days.

DAGNY: Yeah. Even Carrie gets more to say than she does.

Speaking of whom, after a break, we see Albert and Carrie bickering about Laura moving back in. Grace is there too. 

Albert is clearly annoyed that the show is de-prioritizing the main cast this season. (Carrie and Grace seem to agree.) 

DAGNY [as MATTHEW LABYORTEAUX]: “Enough with the blind strangers and mute orphans, Landon.”

(Not to worry, though, Alb. You’ve got a terrible story of your own coming up next time.)

Inside, Pa doesn’t bring up the case of Almanzo rubbing down the Foxy Saloon Girl in the streets of Sleepy Eye, but he does caution against rash judgments based on limited information.

But he immediately changes his mind, angry that A-zo called his daughter stupid.

Ma, of course, points out once again that it’s a woman’s lot in life to suffer. (Paraphrase.) 

DAGNY: Boy, is that typical. She’s always making excuses for badly-behaved men.

Pa protests that he himself never did anything as bad as calling Ma stupid.

WILL [as MA, dryly]: “No, but you did say I was as bad as Carrie with her dead eggs when I was pregnant with Grace.”

Happy as always to stand between Laura and her Almanz-hole of a husband, Pa encourages her to stay with them, winks, and shoots her his trademark Chicken-Crap Grin. (Which got a big laugh from our gallery.)

Pa exists, and Ma says affectionately, “Fathers . . . they never want to let go.”

AMELIA: Is that true, Pops?

WILL: No.

That night, Zaldamo is in a blue funk at home – literally.

WILL: Why is it so blue?

AMELIA: Because he’s bluer than blue.

Laura having not returned, he goes upstairs (which is even bluer).

WILL [singing]: “Because I’m bluer than blue . . . sadder than sad . . .”

DAGNY [singing]: “I don’t have to miss no TV shows, I can start my whole life over/Change the numbers on my telephone, but the nights will still be colder. . . .”

He picks up a dress Laura left on the bed.

DAGNY: Her hot, hot nightie. Lucky Zaldamo.

WILL: Do you think he makes himself a new wife, like the Count von Cosel?

Almanzo quickly exits the house, prepared to go reconcile with his wife.

AMELIA: Go get her, Manly!

WILL: What? You’re on his side?

AMELIA: I’m on Love’s side.

Then he stops and says to himself, “Now what am I goin’ over there for? I didn’t do anything wrong. (Yes, they did pull this exact same bullshit five episodes ago.)

Meanwhile, in her old loft apartment at the Little House, Laura is lying on the floor and chatting with Albert.

Quite funnily, she compliments him on his decorating.

WILL: She gets along better with him than with Zaldamo.

DAGNY: Yeah. She should have married him!

Suddenly from the darkness, Carrie slurps that she wants a story.

WILL: Can you imagine how horrible it would be to have Carrie as a roommate?

AMELIA: Yes. I had Olive as a roommate.

But Albert tells her to piss off.

Albert, who despite his own love blunders past and future, tends to be gimlet-eyed and reasonable about other people’s romantic affairs, says this whole business is stupid and obviously they’ll be getting back together. 

Albert has a knack for reflecting the audience’s viewpoint where Almanzo Wilder is concerned. 

You’ll recall he originally objected to Laura’s attraction to him, mainly but not exclusively because of the age gap.

WILL: And now he’s in position of having to defend their marriage.

AMELIA: That’s because he’s a good brother. Roman would do the same thing.

Albert blathers on and on, putting Laura to sleep.

Meanwhile, Carrie offers ironical commentary from behind the curtain.

The next morning, Laura drinks milk from a glass (did she bring it from home?) whilst eating what looks like a slice of cold pizza.

Caroline, thick-voiced with sleep (or something), emerges from the bedroom.

AMELIA: She looks hot.

DAGNY: Yeah, she always looks good with bed-head.

Laura tells Ma she’s decided to reconcile with Manly. She says, “I don’t know what got into me,” and Ma replies, “Same thing that gets into all of us from time to time.”

AMELIA: Penises.

AMELIA: But seriously, I love when Ma’s happy.

Exit Laura. Albert comes down to tell Ma he hasn’t slept since Laura came back. Haw haw.

Laura drives back to the OWF in a buggy pulled by Barnum.

DAGNY: Does Becky Sue turn out to be there?

AMELIA: Yeah, filling the tub?

Almanzo is not at home . . . but Laura finds a note which reads My Only Love, Brenda Sue Longworth.

DAGNY: Whoa. That’s pretty damning.

WILL: Is it? If they were having an affair, why would he write that down? Just that, and leave it behind?

DAGNY: Men are stupid.

Laura’s face is inscrutable, but it’s clear she agrees with Dags.

Meanwhile, in Sleepy Eye, Almanzo is a-workin’.

DAGNY: Ha! Drill bits!

AMELIA: Yeah, there’s a lot of innuendo in this one.

WILL: Oh my God. . . .

Manzo is talking to Mr. Crowley the shopkeeper, surely the most boring character to appear in three or more Little House on the Prairie stories.

Crowley pays Almanzo $72 (about $2,500 today) for his delivery.

Now we get a good look at some signs at which to this point we’ve only had tantalizing peeks. (They’re for Grad & Baynes Haberdashery and Graydon and Sons Housewares.)

Manly crosses the street from one general store to another, it seems. (This confirms our previous hypothesis that Sleepy Eye is large enough to support two.)

Like a jack-in-the-box, a Sleepy Eyester woman pops up from behind the counter.

(Credited as “Olga Tuttle,” this shopkeeper is Eve Brent, who was one of many famous Janes from the Tarzan film series.)

(Brent hated the part of Jane, saying it resulted in typecasting.)

(That may be so, but the rest of her resume is actually amazing, including as it does Dragnet, Adam-12, the Paul Napier vehicle Saved By The Bell: Hawaiian Style, Tales From the Crypt, Frasier, Ellen, Rugrats, Scrubs (!), and Community.)

(She was on Highway to Heaven three times, as well as on Charlotte Stewart’s Twin Peaks, Patrick Labyorteaux’s JAG and the Melissa Gilbert-adjacent properties Scarecrow and Mrs. King and Thirtysomething.)

(Moviewise, she did Airport, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, and the Dabbs Greer-icle The Green Mile.)

(We’ve also met her once before on Little House, way back in Season One, in which she played the Grovester wife of arch-Scandinavian Jacob “Jumpin’ Jiminy” Jacobsen in “100 Mile Walk.”)

A beauty in her youth (and beyond), she actually resembled Tisch Raye a little, I think.

Well, Almanzer says he wants a present for Laura, and Mrs. Tuttle gives him some perfume samples. A chipper, rather cynical person, she jokes about all the gifts she used to milk out of her late husband.

Then she says she still sees him “every night.”

WILL [as MRS. TUTTLE]: “I had him stuffed, you see.”

No taxidermy, but this nice lady is revealed to be insane, when she points out her “late husband” Mr. T isn’t dead, just late all the time.

We also see an ad indicating Mrs. Lydia Holtmeyer, formerly of Lamberton, has moved her seamstresserie to Sleepy Eye.

There’s also a piece of paper which reads Since Sarah Jacks[on] . . . is changed to . . ., but that’s all we can make out of it, so who Sarah Jacks[on] is and why her actions are requiring a change (and to what) remain a mystery.

Whilst he’s waiting for Mrs. T to wrap the gift, Alamanzy peruses the sheet music, which conveniently is placed right next to the check-out. (Hardly seems like the kind of thing to inspire impulse purchases, but who knows in those boring pre-internet days.) 

We get glimpses of several pieces of music for sale, including “Vilia” (or “Vilja”), a famous aria from The Merry Widow, a light opera by Franz Lehár.

Not a favorite of mine (I’m more of a G&S man when it comes to operetta), but not bad.

The sheet music includes the name of the American producer Henry Wilson Savage, who was apparently described as “an extraordinarily manipulative and money-grubbing entrepreneur” by P.G. Wodehouse (who wrote musicals for him).

In the real universe, however, The Merry Widow wasn’t performed until 1905 (and not until 1907 in America).

A Hungarian, Franz Lehár became friendly with Hitler despite having a Jewish wife and many Jewish colleagues, several of whom did not make it out of the Third Reich alive. (In fact, one of The Merry Widow’s librettists, Viktor Léon, starved to death trying to escape the Nazis in 1940.)

Nevertheless, The Merry Widow is still performed today.

Another selection is also anachronistic: “Toyland” from the operetta Babes in Toyland by Victor Herbert (1903).

Babes in Toyland was also a big hit, twice made into a movie (one starring Toby Noe, and another with Granville Whipple!). 

And the song “Toyland” used to be played a lot at Christmastime; but the show isn’t as well known today as it once was, I think.

Victor Herbert has a nicer piece of trivia attached to him than Franz Lehár: he was instrumental in passing laws in the U.S. to ensure creators got proceeds when companies produced their works.

Otherwise, we see one piece of music “introduced” by Jessie Bartlett Davis, an American opera star known for playing Little Buttercup in early productions of H.M.S. Pinafore.

She had a major hit with “Oh Promise Me” in 1887, which became a wedding standard, and which in fact was referenced twice before on this show by Mr. David Rose.

Late in her career, Davis recorded the song on a talking machine.

As Almanzo finds Brenda Sue’s composition – which is titled “My Only Love” and printed by (the fictional) “Kay Publishing Company” – we see another title: “’Neath the Southern Moon,” again by Victor Herbert, from his light opera Naughty Marietta. (1910.)

Back in Walnut Grove, Nels is selling Charles another pane of glass for the window. And who should come sashaying in but Brenda Sue Longworth, the distinguished singer-songwriter?

Nels is delighted to hear about BS’s publishing success. I’m surprised he doesn’t offer to buy some copies to sell in the store. But as we mentioned, nobody lives in Groveland but musical illiterates.

Brenda Sue pleasantly jokes/not-jokes that she’d rather be living in Chicago or New York City than the hellhole that is Walnut Grove.

AMELIA: She’s pretty hot for Little House.

DAGNY: Yeah, she’s up there with Doctor’s Lady.

WILL: You think Landon went after her?

DAGNY: Probably.

Meanwhile, inside the school, Forty-Year-Old Laura, voice squeaky as a child’s but obviously pissed as shit, quizzes the kids on the early days of the USA.

She bites off the head of the red-haired Timothy kid as well as some others named Steven and Susan who guess the wrong answer. 

DAGNY: These kids are hilarious. Is this what you’re like as a teacher, Mimi?

I’m pretty sure Susan is the Misbehaving Little Girl who’s been in regular rotation since the Grovesters came back from Winoka, but she gets a credit in this story. 

She’s Gillian Grant, who also appeared on Knight Rider, The A-Team, and Rags to Riches. (Remember that last one?)

And Steven is Patrick Armstrong, who appeared on Archie Bunker’s Place once.

Laura’s so disgusted she throws the whole class out.

Albert, quite Pa-like, approaches Laura to find out what’s wrong, but she just spits poison in his face.

“If I feel like getting angry at the class, I’ll get angry at the class!” she snaps. (I’ve never done much teaching, but I sympathize with this concept.)

Then, to wacko, Christmassy music (we’ve heard it before, but I’m not sure in what context), we see a man and woman driving past the school in a buckboard. 

The woman, who’s fairly unhappy-looking, we’ve never seen before.

But the man, who’s also fairly unhappy-looking, we have.

DAGNY: Who’s that guy?

WILL: Oh, that’s Mustache Man’s brother, Harvey. He competed in the arm-wrestling contest last season.

DAGNY: Oh.

Laura comes out and spots Brenda Sue Longworth approaching Nellie’s/Caroline’s.

A mysterious woman in a sort of rusty-topped ensemble emerges, greeting Brenda Sue by name.

Laura starts heaving, and the prongs of her gopher fangs become visible.

AMELIA: Oh man, I love a catfight.

The mysterious woman (Helen Crane?) creeps away as Laura approaches.

Laura launches into a verbal attack, quite obnoxiously.

Brenda Sue tries to explain, but Laura interrupts, mockingly calling her “my only love.”

WILL: You know, I think “My Only Love” would have been a better title for this story.

BS smiles and says, “Oh, then he told you!” 

Laura makes Cerberus Face and says, “No, you witch. I found out!”

And with that, she plants her palm on Brenda Sue’s face and shoves her to the ground!

AMELIA: OH MY GOD!!!

Not content with that, Laura then pounces on BS. It is all screamingly funny.

As always when there’s a fight, the children of Walnut Grove are depraved and bestial here, yowling for the contestants to kill each other.

Steven looks a vicious sort.

Prominent amongst the yelling voices is that of Not-Art Garfunkel, veteran now of 22 episodes, who, having gotten over the hurdle dividing childhood from adolescence, has a deep, pretty un-Garfunkel-like voice.

These kids are really growing up, aren’t they.

Eventually, Caroline rushes out to break up the fight. She’s about as fierce as she gets on this show.

AMELIA: I love that she said “You will be silent!”

WILL: I used to say that to you kids all the time. It never worked.

AMELIA: Well, that’s because it’s a stupid thing to say, but I like that Ma said it.

Nellie, meanwhile, stands on the porch staring. (See our “What To Do With Nellie” conversation from last time, and above.)

And where is Mrs. Oleson? I can’t imagine this incident would escape her attention, or that she wouldn’t take an interest in the town schoolteacher brawling in the street. She is a member of the school board, after all.

Laura shows Ma the “My Only Love” note, which immediately turns her against Almanzo.

WILL: What’s on Laura’s face, bootblack?

The decision to “dirty” Laura’s face with tar-black streaks is an odd one.

AMELIA: Looks like they used one of those big Sharpies.

Ma announces that Laura will be moving back to the Little House permanently. Unusual for her to make such a decision without consulting Pa.

Speaking of whom, Pa and Almanzo now meet each other in the road. Pa clearly doesn’t know about the most recent skirmish.

Pa tells Manzo Laura has gotten over her anger, and he says he has too.

DAGNY: Show us your hat, Charles. Come on! I’ve never wanted to see something more. Is it a naked lady?

WILL: Maybe it’s a pin of Caroline, you know, like in The Odyssey.

(Mind you, that’s The Odyssey the movie, not the fun leukemia adventure from Little House Season Five.)

Meanwhile, Mrs. Oleson, who apparently did see the fight, is on the phone talking about it to someone named Elvira.

DAGNY: Katherine MacGregor is so funny talking on the phone.

Presumably this is Elvira Hornquist, the lady who celebrated her 86th birthday in “Laura Ingalls Wilder.” (Three years ago in Little House Universal Time.)

Some of you may recall the excellent toe-tappin’ country song “Elvira” by the Oak Ridge Boys. Many years ago, I crossed paths with a member of that band through my job at the time. I’ll spare you the details, but I will say he was a nasty piece of work.

Next she dials up Mrs. Foster.

DAGNY: This is what my mom was like, actually. All day long.

WILL: Ha ha!

AMELIA: It’s also you, Pops.

WILL: What?

AMELIA: And Mom, and Auntie Peggy. . . .

DAGNY: Ha ha!

That’s quite untrue. I have no taste for gossip, actually.

Neither does Nels, who literally pulls the plug on the conversation.

But Harriet won’t back down, calling Mrs. F right back and telling her the scandal is more shocking than “Mattie Hargrove [coming] to church in her bloomers.”

(This is an odd echo of Albert’s story in “‘Author! Author!’” about Ma coming to church naked. That was an exaggeration, of course.)

Well, Nels goes outside and rips out the telephone wire.

AMELIA: Yeah, Nels!

DAGNY: This is the best part so far.

AMELIA: Katherine MacGregor’s got a great shriek.

Back at the Little House, Pa arrives home.

DAGNY: That was a fun reveal. Landon must have directed this one.

(He did.)

Ma quickly catches him up on the sitch.

DAGNY: Oh, it’s just a leather tie on his hat. What a disappointment.

Laura snarls at Manly’s duplicitousness.

DAGNY: This is such a dumb plot. 

Pa says he’ll gladly kick Almanzo’s ass, but wants to find out what for first.

WILL [as PA]: “I’m on the side of Love, just like Amelia Kaiser.”

Again showing uncharacteristic harshness, Ma says they should go get Laura’s things, but Pa says they’ll talk it through with the Almanzhole first.

In fact, he commands Laura to board the Chonkywagon, immediately.

She does, breaking his new windowpane again.

DAGNY: This is a weird subplot. I hope nobody gets cut by the glass.

When they arrive at the Old Wilder Farm, Almanzo is inside, trying to sing “My Only Love.”

WILL: Dean Butler actually is a great singer. He played one of the Princes in Into the Woods on Broadway.

AMELIA: Oh, he’d be PERFECT for that.

Taking stock of his wife’s furious expression and disheveled deportment, Zaldamo takes a wild guess that she’s mad at him again.

They have a stupid argument, during which it comes out the whole thing was a hilarious misunderstanding.

DAGNY: So Laura’s totally in the wrong, huh? Surprise surprise.

Ma looks amused and benevolent, but I’m not sure we should let her off for jumping to conclusions like that.

Pa bids Almanzo a have-a-nice-day, and he and Ma leave.

Well, blah blah blah, Laura and Zaldimwit both apologize to each other. “I’m not mad now,” he says.

DAGNY [as ALMANZO]: “Just make sure my dinners are better and served on time.”

You’d think this would be the end, but we’ve still got five minutes to kill.

On the way home, Ma and Pa have a hilarious conversation where they discuss how hot makeup sex is (not a joke!).

Ma then pretends to be mad at Pa so they can have it when they get home. Pa’s so happy, he makes kissy noise, in fact.

AMELIA: Ha ha ha ha ha!

DAGNY: Yeah, I think Landon and Grassle must have been getting along when they did this one. I think you can tell.

Back at the Mercantile, Nels is hanging some shit up on a wall.

WILL: What are those, hacksaws?

DAGNY: Yeah, he should be sawing off Harriet’s head.

Pa comes in (in Pinky, so it’s a different day), and Nels gives him another piece of windowglass.

DAGNY: Pa’s definitely off the barrel on this window project by now.

Nels makes (and explains) some dad-joke puns during the transaction.

WILL: It is always paneful to explain one’s jokes, Nels!

DAGNY/AMELIA: . . .

WILL: Well, all right.

Then we see Laura coming out of the school.

WILL: This really could have been a half-hour episode.

Well, the final joke is Laura tries to talk to Brenda Sue in the thoroughfare, but she takes off in terror, making Pa break his window yet again.

They don’t do a very good job of hiding that it’s a stuntwoman driving rather than Tisch Raye.

DAGNY: What’s with the serial killer music? With that and the broken glass, it’s like a Dario Argento movie.

WILL: You don’t say. . . .

As if they could hear Dagny, the production team (remember, David Rose was on strike) then switches to sort of Renaissance English nymphs-and-shepherds-type music.

That night, to guitar accompaniment from Zaldamo, Pa puts the old window back in. Bum-Bum-Ba-Dum! 

STYLE WATCH: We discussed Almanzo’s shirt a little.

DAGNY: The way his top is gathered on the chest is a little funny-looking, a little feminine. It almost looks like it’s designed to be worn unbuttoned. I wonder if he CAN button it?

WILL: Yeah. Plus it looks like it’s made of out pajama material.

Laura’s stove is a South Bend, just like Leslie Harper had in “‘Someone Please Love Me.’”

Almanzo tucks his napkin into his shirt without buttoning it up, not far above the navel. That’s a recipe for gravy in the chest hair, laddie.

We get a fairly okay look at a picture on the wall in the Wilder boudoir. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it appears to be a topless woman!

It looks familiar to me, but I can’t place it. Probably Biblical? Salome, Jezebel? Seems a funny choice for Laura Ingalls Wilder’s bedroom. . . . Well, it’s driving me crazy, so please enlighten me if you can.

I believe I can identify the sculpture by Laura and Manly’s front door, though. It’s a reproduction of Dancer of the Daggers, a sculpture by Belgian-French artist Claire Colinet. She didn’t create it until around 1920, though.

The bedroom itself, interestingly, is done in lavender. More Nellie’s color, one would have thought.

Pretty Caroline’s lipstick matches her jammies quite nicely.

Nels displays some very scary toys in the Mercantile.

In fact, I actually recognize one of them! The scary white-faced clown is also in the collection of The House on the Rock, a bizarre and gigantic museum in my home state of Wisconsin.

Actually, this clown was a rather famous toy in Nineteenth-Century America. Called “Humpty Dumpty” (though it doesn’t really resemble that literary character), it actually was a mechanical piggy bank, devouring coins at the press of a lever.

(The famously, indescribably weird House on the Rock should be high on your list of Wisconsin destinations.)

Two Grovester sisters in Laura’s class have matching Scandinavian hairstyles.

AMELIA: Damn, those pants, Chuck.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Apparently some of the jokes in this story were lifted directly from a 1965 episode of Bonanza called “The Flapjack Contest,” directed by our own William F. Clax.

THE VERDICT: 

AMELIA: That was a GREAT episode!

WILL: What? I can’t believe you liked it!

DAGNY: It is pretty sexist. Laura learns her lesson, when the main conflict in the first place was about Zaldamo being an asshole to her. Bitches Be Crazy, yet again.

AMELIA: Oh, it’s all in good fun. It’s Little House.

An unbelievable story with a lot of silly comedy, “Divorce” nevertheless satisfies viewers’ by-now-ravenous hunger for a proper story about the show’s principal characters.

Plus it contains several very crowd-pleasing elements: Gilbert and Butler’s performances, the fight, Ma and Pa’s “makeup sex” talk, and of course, for those who enjoy such things, Almanzo in the buff. Tisch Raye is good as Brenda Sue, and “No, you WITCH!” is an immortal line.

But it must be said, neither Almanzo nor Laura is very likable in it. Perhaps they deserve each other.

AMELIA: So what was the foul language?

WILL: No idea.

UP NEXT: “Dearest Albert, I’ll Miss You . . .”