Beany Gets His Start

Something was missing in a blurb on the radio/TV page of the Los Angeles Daily News of Monday, March 7, 1949. It reported KTLA would now sign on at 5:30 p.m., meaning expanded programming. While the story mentioned a new, five-day-a-week children’s show tabbed The Western, it did not mention another new programme dropped into 6:30 slot which had far more impact.

It was Time For Beany.

(The internet says the show debuted the week before. If it did, and it’s possible, no newspaper had it in their listings).

Likely anyone reading this blog will know this was a puppet show that was the brainchild of former Warner Bros. cartoon director Bob Clampett. Eventually, KTLA’s owner syndicated it across the U.S. It gave birth to Clampett’s Beany and Cecil cartoon show on ABC in 1962.

The Daily News loved the show, and two columns were devoted to it. The first was published June 17, 1949.

It's happy TV sailin' with Beany and the Leakin' Lena
By WALT TALIAFERRO
(Radio and Television Editor)
Are you adequately protected with accident and hospitalization insurance? Do you carry complete coverage in a life insurance policy?
If not, don't dare venture near the path leading to the nearest television receiver at 6:30 p. m.—Monday through Friday — or you're liable to be trampled under foot by a swarm of children, as they give full throat to their rallying cry, "Hey, Ma! It's Time for Beany!"
And that's not all. Close on their heels comes Dad—big brother—or Granny. For, one and all, they're "Beany" fans.
Just four short months ago "Beany" was a private in Hollywood's Army of OOWA's (Out of Work Actors.)
If the rest of this story reads line fantasy—why not? That's what "Beany" is.
He invested his last nickel in a phone call that has earned him a seven-year contract with Paramount Television Productions, where he can be seen on KTLA as the star of Bob Clampett's "Time for Beany" program.
Klaus Landsberg, West Coast director of Paramount Television, received a phone call from a little boy who related the plans he and his uncle had to visit all parts of the globe in a quest for knowledge and adventure. His uncle, "Capt. Horatio Huffenpuff" had a ship, "The Leakin' Lena," but needed funds to finance the expedition.
So impressed was Landsberg with the boy's earnestness and fortitude, that he arranged not only to finance the expedition, but also send along one of KTLA's crack camera crews to telecast a nightly on-the-spot coverage of the cruise.
Thus was born the start of an outdoor adventure that has no equal on television.
The "Leakin' Lena's" crew is comprised of "Beany;" “Capt. Huffenpuff;” "Hopalong Wong," the lovable Chinese cook; "Klowny," the mailman; "Hunny Bear," the mischievous mascot; "Mr. Crow," faithful lookout in the Crow's nest; and "Dishonest John," a dastardly stowaway.
Setting sail, accompanied by KTLA camera experts Gordon Minter, Jimmy Morris and Lloyd Bockaus, the good ship left port, and headed to open sea. Two days out they ran into a most unusual development. As the clouds rumbled, and the sea tossed their ship, who should appear from the churning waters, but a huge sea serpent.
Beany was terrified, but the monster simply laid his head on the deck, hiccupped, and introduced himself.
"Cecil's the name. Cecil, the Sea Sick Sea Serpent, that is." Again Cecil groaned.
"What's the matter, honey boy?" Beany asked, and kissed him square on the top of the head.
Ever since that day Beany and "Cecil, the Sea Sick Sea Serpent" have been the best of buddies.
Whenever Beany is threatened with danger, Cecil is always on hand to lend a hand.
And if the somewhat stupid Cecil doesn't have the answer for one of their problems, he visits Smarty Pants the Frog—otherwise known as "The Brain." He knows.
Already, the expedition has sailed down the L. A. River, and has overcome the many varied dangers of Echo Park, Sleepy Lagoon, Salty Lake, Boo Hoo Bay, Lake Ha Ho (the land of the Laughing Grass), through the Straigths [sic] of Jacket, and Turban Bay, past the Land of Milk and Honey, and is now at the LaBrea Tar Pits.
Here they hope to capture the Freep, the last living species of prehistoric origin.
Interest is running so high in what the Freep will look like that thousands of children have sent in drawings of what he may look like, as well as offers to help in his capture.
One local housewife, last week, phoned the station to say her husband didn't want to leave town on his vacation till he was sure he wouldn't miss the unveiling of the Freep.
The tremendous influx mail proves beyond a doubt that an equal number of adults and children follow the program.
The parents especially approve the inspiring way in which Beany instructs his followers in ways to do things, proper conduct, good fellowship and proper moral outlook.
"Time for Beany" is a Bob Clampett Packing Production, and stars Daws Butler and Stan Freberg, considered in the trade as the top men in their field. Butler, for years a top vaudeville and radio performer, is achieving TV fame for his expert portrayal of "Beany" and other lead characters.
Clampett, originator of the "Beany", program was formerly a director of "Bugs Bunny" cartoons at Warner Bros. Studio.
Bill Oberlin, also at Warners with Clampett, designs and constructs the sets, among the best on any Television show. Charlie Shows, former Fairbanks writer, is story head. Maurice Levy Jr., longtime associate of Clampett's, is the show's personal business representative.

Here’s the Daily News column from Dec. 27, 1949. You’ll notice it says Beany had turned one year old. It would seem the character appeared on KTLA in late 1948, though I can find no mention of him or Bob Clampett in any 1948 newspaper.

Hey, just a darn minute! Beany boy has a message
By CECIL, THE SEASICK SEA SERPENT
As told to Paul Price
Now, just a darn minute there . . . just a darn minute!
My little pal Beany boy wants me to give you a message. Beany boy and I are taking off soon on a trip to the moon and he's a mighty busy lad working with Captain Huffenpuff gettin' that ol' rocket in shape for the flight. Otherwise he'd write you himself.
Well, now, my little pal's television program, 'Time for Beany" has just celebrated its first anniversary on KTLA . . . and we want to thank you for all those swell letters.
The nice things so many people said about my little pal . . . and, well, gosh, even me, is enough to make an old sea serpent blush. And, doggone it, I'll bet that's somethin' you haven't seen very often.
Beany and me really appreciate those letters . . . especially the ones from you youngsters . . . but we'd like you to know that there are a few other people who have had something to do with it.
Our pal, Bob Clampett—he's a man—is really responsible for any success that Beany boy, Captain Huffenpuff, Dishonest John, Clownie and the rest of us have had.
That ol' Bob, he's always thinking of things for us to do, new places to go and strange lands to explore. Why if it hadn't been for him we never would have found that darn ol' Freep or the love bomb.
He does a pretty good job for a man.
Then there's Daws Butler—and do you know that sometimes when he's talking I can't tell whether it's him or Beany Boy. He sounds as much like my little pal as I sound like Stan Freberg.
Maybe it's because they're both actor fellows.
Well, Beany and I and the gang have been to some mighty strange places, and it was all arranged by Bill Oberlin. Ol' Bill says he's in charge of settings and effects, but all I know is he's the fellow that's fixing it for us to go to the moon.
You know, it's quite a job putting on "Time for Beany" five days a week, because we go a lot of places and some mighty strange adventures happen to us. Guess none of it would be possible without Charlie Shows, our writer and producer. He's a man, too.
Beany boy and I just want you to know that we're mighty happy so many people and organizations have voted us their favorite television show.
Even Dorothy Sutherland of the California Congress of Parents and Teachers says we have one of the best programs for children.
I have to be swimming along now because it's almost "Time for Beany." See you over KTLA at 6:30. I'm giving Paul Price back his column.
Your old friend, Cecil, the sea-sick sea serpent.
• • •
Thank you Cecil, and we sure hope you don't get sick traveling in that rocket to the moon.

After Beany went national, the show caught the attention of TV Guide. This article was published in the Chicago edition, Aug. 21, 1954.

Beany from the Back
...AND WHAT MAKES SEASICK CECIL TICK
“Kukla, Fran & Ollie,” explains Bob Clampett, creator of Time for Beany and an admirer of K,F&O’s Burr Tillstrom, “is a puppet show—pure and simple—which uses television merely as a means of reaching its audience. Beany, on the other hand, uses television. It could be done only on TV. We use connected stages, not just one; painted backdrops whose illusion would be lost in a theater, camera tricks. Anyone who tries to compare the two shows has rocks in his head.”
An award-winning favorite in Los Angeles, Time for Beany is now building a national following. Clampett, a youngish-looking man in his late thirties was a movie cartoon director and artist. He brought the show to TV almost six years ago.
Beany backstage, to the untrained eye, is a helter-skelter of organized confusion. Between stage and backdrops is four-by-six-foot space in which actors doing the voices of the characters must maneuver without barking shins or jamming an elbow into someone’s mouth. Scripts are attached to a roller device, turned when a puppet manipulator gets a hand free.
“For the first five years,” Clampett says, “two boys, Stan Freberg and Dawes Butler [sic], did practically all the voices. When they finally decided to leave the show, a lot of potential sponsors were scared off because they thought these two boys could never be replaced. But we’d had other actors doing the voices, on the air, for weeks before Dawes and Stan publicly announced they were leaving. Nobody noticed the difference.” Beany now has a staff of six voice artists—each of whom can, and does, voice every character on the show at one time or another.
Clampett’s forte, like Tillstrom’s, is satire, which he tries to keep on a broad enough level to snare both the children and their elders. (A loyal viewer: Lionel Barrymore.) Clampett’s more recent satirical characters have included Jack Webbfoot; the Connecticut Sea Serpent in King Arthur’s Court (a take-off on Godfrey); the Double Feature Creature with the Wide Scream and the Scareophonic Sound; Marilyn Mongrel; Tearalong the Dotted Lion; Louie the Lone Shark; Dizzy Lou the Kangeroo (Desilu), Moon Mad Tiger, a mustachioed character voiced by Jerry Colonna, another fan. And there’s always Cecil the Seasick Sea Serpent.

There are a few episodes of the puppet show circulating on the internet. Clampett managed to pull off a season of the cartoon series. Unfortunately, his Snowball Productions never managed to get other ventures off the ground, and the Beany and Cecil cartoons remain on wish lists of fans who would like to see a restored, full set.

Bell, Book and Wood

The “books come to life” cartoons at Warner Bros. always gave the opportunity for the background artist to sneak in a reference to cartoon studio staff. We’ve mentioned this about Bob Clampett’s Book Revue in this post. There’s a name we didn’t catch until now. Observe the author(ess) name on the fifth book from the left.



Raynelle Bell worked under Clampett at the “Katz” division in the 1930s (making a sojourn to Florida and the Fleischer studio before returning to the West Coast), and was his ink and paint supervisor when he opened Snowball and made the Beany and Cecil cartoons in 1962. Bell was a cousin of inker Dixie Mankameyer, who later married animator Paul J. Smith.

Raynelle was born January 21, 1916 in Kansas City, Missouri; her father was named Ray and her mother was named Nelle. The family moved to Tulsa in 1920 where her father ran Bell's Cafe on Third Street until 1927. The Tulsa papers in the ‘20s report she and Dixie were pupils of Rose Arnott Littlefield and took part in her recitals.

The Bells arrived in Los Angeles between 1928 and 1929. Raynelle was a graduate of Hollywood High School (where she led the volleyball team) and USC. While in the land of the Trojans, she received honourable mention for a poster in an “Art in America” contest. In 1935, she won a suntan contest sponsored by the Long Beach Chamber of Commerce.

She was remembered fondly by the wonderful inker and painter Martha Sigall in her autobiography, who said Warners hired Raynelle in August 1936.

When she got married in June 7, 1944 to Cpl. Franklin Eugene Day, she was employed by Walt Disney; Day had been a singer and employed at MGM before enlisting in 1941. She was back at Warners by early 1945, judging by the company's Club News photoshoot published in April that year. Evidently, she got out of the animation business to raise her two young children as she has no occupation next to her name in the 1950. Martha worked for her at Snowball, and later at Kurtz and Friends. Raynelle moved to Eugene, Oregon after retiring and died there on November 9, 2002.

The backgrounds in this cartoon were painted by Cornett Wood. A native of Indianapolis, Cornett Francis Wood was born September 12, 1905. He was a member of Troop 43 of the Boy Scouts as World War One was winding down. He attended Shortridge High School, where he was on the art staff for the high school annual. He entered a number of art contests and in 1925, he won a $130 winter scholarship given by the Indiana Poster Advertising Association.

Wood had the unfortunate situation in 1932 of testifying in the juvenile delinquency trial of his 17-year-old sister Vera who, it was claimed, held up either nine or eleven people with a toy pistol, was obsessed with crime novels, got angry easily and was addicted to cigarettes. “I think she is subnormal,” he told the court.

The Indianapolis Star of Sept. 8, 1933 gives a short biography in connection with a painting demonstration at the state fair art gallery:

Wood [was] a graduate of the [John] Herron art school in 1927 and later a student for one semester in the Pennsylvania academy under Daniel Garber and George Harding.
For two years Cornett Wood has been doing commercial art for the Bemis Brothers Bag Company. He designs pictures and lettering that are printed on the front of flour bags and coffee bags. In spare time he paints pastel portraits that are unusually artistic He had months experience as a sailor, following the period of advanced study in the Pennsylvania academy, when he shipped on a freighter with the American Export Line and went to Italy, remaining on the boat while it put in at ten or twelve Italian ports.

The Star reported on Sept. 15, 1936 that Wood was now in Los Angeles working for Walt Disney. A story in the Santa Barbera News-Press of Apr. 1, 1945 about a demonstration and lecture he was conducting about making animated cartoons said:

Wood is considered one of the outstanding artists in the field of animations. He worked at the Disney studio for nearly seven years, and during the past three years he has been made Warner Brothers’ cartoons. At present he is designing backgrounds, which is the stage for the characters.

Book Revue was the first Warners cartoon where Wood got a screen credit. After one more cartoon with Clampett, he was moved to Bob McKimson’s unit to handle layouts. He left the studio after making Dog Collared (released Dec. 2, 1951) and was replaced by Pete Alvarado.

He had an interesting distinction at Warners, at least according to the Dec. 23, 1949 edition of the Palm Springs Limelight-News, which called him the “well known creator of Bugs Bunny.”

In 1959, his name is found on two film strips made for the Girl Scouts of America.

Wood died May 16, 1980. He had been living in La Canada.

Clampett's name can be found on various books in the background of this cartoon. Perhaps the most interesting one is to the right of a comic book.



“Invisible Man” aptly describes Clampett at this point. The cartoon was released on January 5, 1946. The Warner Club News of June 1945 announced Art Davis had replaced Clampett as a director. Considering it took months to have Technicolor prints struck for completed cartoons, it’s likely Clampett was still at Warners when Wood painted the backgrounds. But it’s a neat coincidence.

Escape From Clampett

Bob Clampett’s Book Revue is an energetic tour-de-force of perspective animation, huge open mouths with curly tongues, and stretch in-betweens that are worth stopping the film just to look at.

Below are 24 frames—one second of animation. The Big Bad Wolf is breaking out of jail. He races up “past the camera.”



Here is the animation slowed down.



Clampett loved radio and pop culture references. There are plenty of them here, with a send-up of The Whistler and The Aldrich Family, and caricatures of Gene Krupa, Harry James, Benny Goodman, Tommy Dorsey, Bob Burns, W.C. Fields, the inevitable scrawny version of Frank Sinatra, and Daffy Duck impersonating Danny Kaye. (See E.O. Costello's comment; this cartoon pre-dates the radio show Escape; I was thinking of Suspense).

Rod Scribner, Manny Gould, Bill Melendez and Bob McKimson are the credited animators.

My favourite drawing in this cartoon is Daffy turning into an eyeball. You can see the frames in this post.

Tomorrow, we'll have a hidden gag from this cartoon for you.

Friz on MGM and Tex

A number of the great Warner Bros. cartoon directors lived beyond the period where the only word in animation was “Disney” into a time of being honoured and interviewed about their cartoon careers.

Friz Freleng was one. He went on publicity tours and his thoughts were written in local newspaper feature columns.

There was a wonderful time, before the rise of the internet in the post-modem era, when fanzines flourished. My favourites were Mindrot/Animania and Animato!. The average fan didn’t have too much knowledge of theatrical animation history then, so every issue was, for me, a goldmine of information.

Happily, a number of the people who wrote for the publication 35 or so years ago are still with us, and still doing animation research.

With that brief introduction, let me pass along part of an interview published in Animato No. 18. It is from a chat between Jerry Beck and Friz Freleng on August 22, 1988. I hope I’m not violating any copyright by reproducing this portion, but some of what’s said may be news to some readers. The full magazine is available on-line at archive.org.

Jerry asked Friz a question about Chuck Jones, but it was never answered. Friz also doesn't mention, as he did in other interviews, his distaste at being assigned to direct The Captain and the Kids cartoons at Metro.

It's pretty well known now that Friz did not bring in Tex Avery for Meatless Flyday. Why Friz didn't correct Jerry on this, I don't know, but he went on to talk about another, unidentified cartoon.

You can see Friz wasn’t altogether enamoured at Tex’s style of humour.

You left Warner Bros. and took Hugh Harman's place at MGM for a while.

Fred Quimby tempted me to come over. He offered me a lot of money; for me at that time, it was a hell of a lot of money. I signed up in August, and my contract was up in October with Schlesinger. And Leon was madder than hell. He said, "You didn't give me a chance to compete before you signed up with him."
When I got there, Fred Quimby said to me, "Do anything you want to do. What are you going to do?" And I said, "I don't know. If I had something in mind, I would be making it over at Schlesinger's." He said, "You're right. Well, you can do whatever you feel is right."
I jumped from $250.00 a week to $375.00 at MGM. I thought it was going to be the same as over at Warner's: everybody cooperating with each other, nobody undermining the other guy. If they did [at Warner's], I wasn't conscious of it. I think Leon depended on me, and no one dared try to undermine me.
So when I got over to MGM, there was conspiracy right away. Joe Barbera, Dan Gordon, George Gordon, all them were working trying to put the New York people in front of the California people. And then there was real turmoil, because everyone was clamoring for position. I was so glad to get out of that place.

Did you last a year at MGM?

I was there about a year and a half [until April 1939]. Then one day I came home so disgusted with the whole thing I told my wife, "You know what? I'm going to swallow my pride, and call Schlesinger and see if I can get my job back."
And you know, that very evening, the phone rang. It was Henry Binder [Schlesinger's assistant]. I laughed, because nobody ever called me before. He was laughing, and I was laughing. He says, "I hear you're unhappy over there." So they must have got it through the grapevine.
So to make a long story short, I went over and talked to Leon, and said, "I don't want any more money. I'll take the money that I had before. I just want to get out of there." And he was very happy to get me back, because he tried two or three other guys there. A fellow by the name of Norm McCabe, and Ben Hardaway... And they were all making cartoons that just didn't have it. The cartoons never seemed to find the path, they kind of wandered about. There was no guide there. With Leon, it was like a ship without a captain. Everyone was going in different directions, and Leon just didn't seem to be able to handle that.
So I came back, and Tex started making better cartoons, and we all started imitating each other. We finally found a path.

There was that gag sensibility you got around 1940.

We finally found a direction. Clampett was very good at it.

What were your feelings about Tex Avery and Bob Clampett back then, and Chuck Jones even? What was your reaction to them as people?

I was so engrossed in what I was doing I didn't even care what the other guys were doing. You were always trying to do better than they were. Unconsciously, there was competition, naturally. We wanted to make the best pictures possible.
I think we all influenced each other. Without bragging, like where one guy thinks he created this and that. I don't think anybody created anything himself.
I think they were all little pieces of somebody else. I’d see something that Clampett did and I liked. I did it maybe in a little different way than he did. I'd see something that Tex Avery did, that Disney did... You don't create these things all yourself. They build from other people.
It was a creative thing. The guy who had the greatest imagination in the whole business was Walt himself. When I saw Snow White, it was an entirely different concept than anyone had ever thought of, ever. The concept of animation, even. Nobody animated like that; nobody drew characters like that; nobody put personality like that into the characters. It came from him.
I'm sure it influenced our thinking, and everybody's thinking in animation. They're still trying to imitate that.

Let me ask you some little specific questions. What happened when Tex Avery left Warner Brothers? Was it over them cutting a gag in one of his Bugs Bunnys? Do you know anything about that?

I don't think so. I think Bobby [Clampett] and Tex were always seeking something else. Because nobody really knew what the future was, and everybody wanted to be his own producer. But they didn't know enough about making deals, and they never really got anything out of it.
I think it was Speaking of Animals that Tex was working on before. I think in his book [Tex Avery: King of Cartoons, by Joe Adamson] he mentions that he proposed it to Leon, and Leon turned it down. I never knew what was going on, really.
The reason he went over to MGM was when I came back he knew there was a spot open. And when he asked me about it I said I left there because the politics were terrible. But MGM was the height of motion picture studios, and I said, "Tex, they'd love to have you there." I figured I'd warned him enough. He said, "You think so?" I said, "I know they'd be tickled to death to have someone like you."
Boom! He was over there, and he got the job. I didn't think he was going to go over there, because I told him about the problems I had. But I figured he must have figured, "Hell, that won't happen to me."
It happened to him. When he got over to MGM he was a very unhappy man, because Bill and Joe took over. He was second banana, no matter what he did. He tried desperately. I look at his cartoons and see elements of desperation.
He was afraid to do subtle things. Tom and Jerry had that. They had little personalities, and subtleties, and things like that. Of course they had the broad gags – they were stealing part of Tex's stuff, the broad stuff.

There was a cartoon about two or three years later, that you made about a spider, called Meatless Flyday.

Oh, it was terrible.

Well, I like that cartoon. And you used Tex's voice as the spider – did you say come over and do this for me, or something?

Yeah. I also had him do a character where he was supposed to sing in rhythm, and he just couldn't get the rhythm. I remember we put him in one of these booths you record in, and shook the booth, and said "Just sing to that rhythm." But he couldn't do it. He just never had a sense of rhythm.
He was a fun guy to work with. Everybody liked Tex, but Tex was so insecure. I felt about his cartoons that he overdid them because he was so insecure about them. He couldn't do a subtle cartoon. If he did something, it had to be twice as strong as anybody else, because he was insecure about what he was doing.
It seemed like he never came up with a strong personality after he left Warner's. Tex was so anxious to please he was overdoing everything. He should have come up with characters like Bugs Bunny, things like that...
But I think he created a kind of contemporary art with that desperation, when you look back. His stuff was nothing I admired.

What's great is that your stuff and Tex's stuff is different. It's different, and yet they're both funny, and they both use the cartoon medium to its potential.

Well, you put your own personality in. Tex was a very introverted man. I think he had real family problems. You didn't know Tex; I never knew him outside of his outer skin.

A lot of thanks should be given to people like Jerry and so many others who interviewed people in animation now long gone and laid the foundation stones of animation research. I appreciate them, anyway.

The Super Chief

Cartoons give their creator plenty of latitude in coming up with characters and situations that could never be real. Dream sequences expand that even more.

Much of Bob Clampett’s final release for Warner Bros., The Big Snooze, takes place in one of Elmer Fudd’s dreams that Bugs Bunny invades to turn into a nightmare. In one scene, he sets up a pop culture pun.

Here are consecutive frames. Clampett has some jarring edits in this short. Dialogue is cut off at least twice and the scene changes abruptly. Here, the background changes and the same drawing of Bugs moves closer to the camera. There’s no logical reason to shoot the scene this way.



Bugs ties Elmer Fudd, Pearl White-style, onto the railroad tracks. There’s a train whistle. Being a Clampett cartoon, Bugs reacts. Good gravy! Here it comes! The Super Chief!” Eventually, Bugs partly out of frame view.



The Super Chief, as everyone knew at the time of this cartoon, was a streamlined diesel passenger train running between Los Angeles and Chicago on the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe line. Here’s the pun. The Super Chief is really Bugs in an Indian headdress.



Despite some odd cuts and animation with no dialogue (and vice versa), there are some terrific visuals in this we’re featured here before—the “multiplying” rabbit outlines stomping on Elmer, Elmer in drag doing a Russian dance, the “nightmare paint.” There’s re-use of the log/cliff routine from All This and Rabbit Stew (Tex Avery, 1941). And some Avery-like wolves at Hollywood and Vine chase after Elmer.

Clampett never got a director’s credit and there is no story credit. The animators are Manny Gould, Rod Scribner, Izzy Ellis and Bill Melendez, with Tom McKimson handling layouts and Phil De Guard responsible for the backgrounds. While this was Clampett’s last release, on Oct. 5, 1946, he had one more cartoon that went into production afterwards, Bacall to Arms, but was released before The Big Snooze, on Aug. 3, 1946. Art Davis told researcher Milt Grey “Bacall to Arms was the only one I had a hand in finishing. Any of the other pictures that had already been animated, I didn’t have much to do with.”

The cartoon’s name is inspired by the Warners feature The Big Sleep with Bogart and Bacall. I wondered if the two films were shown together and, sure enough, The Film Daily reported on Nov. 25, 1946 the Interstate circuit booked the two to be shown on the same bill. See an ad to the right.