- [introduction to "Blame It On the Samba"]
- Master of Ceremonies: The intoxicating rhythm of the samba. A talented miss serves a musical cocktail with a true Latin American fling. So if three boisterous birds of a feather fall under the influence of this torrid tropical tempo, don't blame them, blame it on the rhythm of the samba.
- [introduction to "Little Toot"]
- Master of Ceremonies: There's drama, there's excitement, and there's harmony for three in a story of adventure on the sea. Now, featured in this epic is a ship of proud design. No, it's not this ocean liner. We take a different line. So with a huff and a puff and a chug-chug-chug, and a perky little hoot, we introduce our hero, the tugboat, Little Toot.
- [introduction to "Pecos Bill"]
- Master of Ceremonies: Here's a tall tale straight from the chuck wagon, just the way the old-timers used to tell it. According to them, Pecos Bill was the roughest, toughest, rootin'est, tootin'est, shootin'est cowpoke that ever lived. Well, any story about old Pecos is bound to be right strong medicine, so maybe it's best to sashay into it kinda gentle-like.
- [last lines]
- Roy Rogers: In the state of Texas, USA, life still goes on in the same old way. The Pecos River still flows on, but the greatest cowboy on earth is gone. Yeah, Bill went back to the coyotes, but he never forgot Sue. Every night when the moon was high, he'd lift his voice in a mournful cry, bewailing the fate of his lady fair, his long-lost love in the sky up there. So painful was his grief to see, the varmints joined in out of sympathy. That's how come, to this very day, coyotes howl at the moon that way.
- [Johnny sits under a tree with his eyes closed and a smile on his face. The angel appears]
- Johnny Appleseed's Angel: Boy, for sleepin' you take the cake. Come on, get up.
- [He whistles. Johnny jumps out of his body]
- Johnny Appleseed's Angel: We got a longsome trip to make.
- [Johnny reaches for his bag, absentmindedly failing to notice his own corpse]
- Johnny Appleseed: Why, Mr. Angel, how d'ya do?
- Johnny Appleseed's Angel: I'm fine. And how be you?
- Johnny Appleseed: I'm fine. Just feelin... what!
- [Johnny turns and sees his body, still under the tree]
- Johnny Appleseed: Who's that, sleepin' in the evening dusk?
- Johnny Appleseed's Angel: Why, that's just your husk, John. Your mortal husk.
- Johnny Appleseed: My husk? You mean to say I'm... I'm passed away?
- [He removes his tin pot hat, and then throws it to the ground]
- Johnny Appleseed: Dagnabit, Angel, I just can't go!
- [He sits down on the tin pot]
- Johnny Appleseed: Got crops to harvest, seeds to sow!
- [He folds his arms petulantly]
- Johnny Appleseed's Angel: Now, now, now, hold on, boy.
- [He turns Johnny around. Johnny petulantly turns back around the other way]
- Johnny Appleseed's Angel: Down here on Earth, your work is through. But yonder... well, we need you, Johnny. Yep, we sure do.
- [Johnny plugs his ears]
- Johnny Appleseed's Angel: You think we have most all we please. But we ain't.
- [He removes one of Johnny's hands]
- Johnny Appleseed's Angel: We're kinda short on apple trees.
- [Johnny perks up and smiles]
- Johnny Appleseed: Well I swan. I didn't know.
- Roy Rogers: Underneath them frills and flounces, Sue was developin' plenty of bounces. Got to be more than that gal could handle.
- [Sue's butt launches her into the air]
- Roy Rogers: Then Sue took off! Like a Roman candle.