Come here, you venomous brute!
(PIG SQUEALING)
Ouch!
(CONTINUES SQUEALING)
You beast!
Okay, good pig. Good piggy.
Sit.
(SQUEALING)
(SQUEALING GETS LOUDER)
You rotten old cow.
You don't know a ministering angel from a knacker.
Bad luck.
I hope it hurts like hell.
DENT: Have you done it, Mr Herriot?
Um, afraid not, Mr Dent. Didn't bring the right instruments with me.
That's what Mr Farnon said when he called.
DENT: You're a right mess, lad.
Yes. The pain's making her irritable.
She moved a little fast when I was examining the ear.
Mr Farnon said that too.
Did he? I'll call again in a day or so, Mr Dent.
Nothing serious, just an aural haematoma.
Aye, so he told me.
I'll be getting along.
Don't worry about her, Mr Dent.
I won't. You can do the worrying.
My young assistant had hold of the head rope,
and there was old Ransom holding on the tail like
the anchor man of a tug-of-war team.
There I was with my little knife...
Good God.
What the hell's that?
Me.
It certainly is. What on earth have you been up to James?
Dent's pig's ear.
Ah yes, yes of course!
You know Felicity, don't you? Oh, yes. Nice to see...
No bother, I trust.
Some.
But you did the job?
-No. -Oh, James.
Simple little thing like that,
I'd have done it myself if I hadn't been rushed off my feet.
Hmm, so Dent explained.
I was rushed off my feet too.
Always see a job through, James. I don't like an animal left to suffer.
Now if you wouldn't mind removing that fragrance,
which doesn't go with gin and it, we'll talk about it later.
Right.
-Sorry about the fragrance. -Go away!
Don't be misled, Felicity.
There's nothing wrong with young James that a hot shower won't put right,
but one has to take a firm line with the young.
(OVER RADIO) # Loveable
# How I'd love to be your one and only
# Could you care a little bit for lonely me? #
TRISTAN: Oh for God's sake, it's only the bellringers' outing!
SIEGFRIED: I require prior notice of these invitations.
TRISTAN: Prior notice? How the hell could I give you that?
Bob's only just asked me. James, turn off that ruddy noise!
As it happens, I'm on call tonight.
What are you doing tonight, James?
Nothing.
That makes two of us. No problem. Enjoy yourself, Tristan.
You mean I can go?
Why not? The fort is manned.
Well that's grand. Thanks, Siegfried!
Try not to get beastly drunk.
(CHUCKLING) On a bellringers' outing? Some hope.
It's not a hope, it's a distinct probability.
Hangovers impair efficiency, you've had too many lately.
And that's another thing, don't make it too late a night.
Tomorrow looks like being an extremely busy day.
I shall be the incarnation of moderation.
Breakfast will find me bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
-Any beer going? -Help yourself.
-How bout you, James? -Yes, thanks.
I saw Helen with Richard Edmundson earlier.
What do they got to say for themselves?
Oh, I didn't speak to them.
They just swept by in his Bentley.
So what about him?
Well, nothing at all, really.
Just happens to be the third time in 10 days I've spotted them together.
Do you think he's making a serious play for her?
That's what the country does for empty minds, James.
You're turning into the worse kind of village gossip.
Oh, absolute rubbish.
Helen's a damned attractive girl.
-We'll I'd call it intelligent speculation. -Idle speculation.
That's what gossip's all about.
Who Helen chooses to go out with is absolutely no concern of ours.
-Helen who? -Alderson.
I don't suppose you know her.
Yes, he met her when he went to plaster that calf's leg for her father.
Did you James?
Who's Richard Edmundson?
Owns the Yorkshire Echo.
Took it over when his old man snuffed it, a couple of years back.
Very good fellow, as a matter of fact. Who wrote this rubbish?
All the girls go potty about him
and all the mothers are right behind their daughters, cheering them on.
What's so special about him?
The obvious things, I'm sorry to say.
Handsome, witty, charming, man of the world, with pots of money.
The way women look at these things, he is a damned good catch by any standard.
Only he hasn't been caught yet.
And look who's speculating now?
I was simply expressing a personal opinion.
I'll express another one.
I think that young Helen could land him if she set her mind on it.
-What's biting you, James? -Nothing. Why?
Good lord. It can't be. Not already.
What are you drivelling about now?
I detect recognisable symptoms.
James, my boy.
You may safely confide in your Uncle Tristan.
Have you fallen for the delectable Helen?
Don't be an ass.
I only set eyes on her once.
These things can happen, James.
It's what the French call coup de foudre.
Well, no need to be shy with us.
I admire your taste. Nothing like setting your sights high.
Here, here!
Now I must love you and leave you. Can't keep the bellringers waiting.
Don't forget what I told you.
My dear brother, as though I could.
Hmm?
(TELEPHONE RINGING)
Hello.
No, this is James Herriot.
Oh, hello, Mr Cooper. What's the trouble?
I see.
Yeah. Yes, I see.
No, that's quite all right. I'll get out there as quickly as I can. Bye.
What does he want, James?
A newly-calfed cow collapsed in the beck. Milk fever, he thinks.
The times they choose. Can you cope, James?
-Yes, of course. -Thank you very much.
Tristan isn't back yet.
What?
His bed hasn't been slept in.
Good lord.
Think he's had an accident?
I know exactly the sort of accident he's had.
I shall see to it personally, that his recovery is prolonged and painful.
Yes.
Well, I better be off.
Yes, alright James.
I'll see you at breakfast.
(YAWNS)
(ROOSTER CROWING)
Tristan?
What on earth are you doing?
Do not shout, my friend. I implore you, do not shout.
I'm whispering, you complete and utter idiot!
Don't rebuke me, James.
I am the victim of a hideous conspiracy.
Blasted bellringers.
They've no sense of restraint. None at all.
Just because it's an outing,
nothing but grand-sire triples, if you take my meaning.
When did you get back?
I've no idea. Hours ago.
Freezing to death. I didn't dare knock you up.
You've got a key.
I forgot it.
Brilliant. Siegfried's going to skin you alive.
Now, get out. I'm off on a job.
He mustn't know. You wouldn't give your friend away?
Bad luck.
He already knows.
He knows?
Mmm. He came down when the phone rang.
That's that.
I've always liked you, James.
Don't think too badly of me when I'm gone.
Oh, God!
You've been sick all over the passenger seat.
-Have I? -Yes, you bloody well have!
That's very inconsiderate of me. I apologise.
Can I go into the house now, please?
Thank you.
Hello, old chap. Had a good night?
We're too late. She's dead, isn't she?
She's pretty far gone, I'm afraid. There may still be some life in her.
Damn, I hope so. That's one of me best milkers.
Always happens to the good ones.
It does with milk fever.
Give me the bag, Harry.
Is there ought you can do?
I'll try and get some calcium into her vein.
Hold that for me will you?
I reckon she's gone.
She hasn't gone. She's still with us.
And the heartbeat's there. It's getting stronger.
You're just hearing things.
Yes, the right things.
We'll give her a few minutes
and then we'll try and roll her onto her chest.
Mr Herriot.
Wherever have you been?
Up to my middle in a beck rescuing a cow.
It's you that needs rescuing.
Here.
-What's that? -Cooking brandy.
You get that inside you.
Thanks, Mrs Hall.
Oh, gosh, that's marvellous.
Well, it might stop you getting pneumonia.
Just about. Can't even feel my feet.
Oh, by the way...
-Sausages. -Sausages?
Present from Mr Cooper.
-What? Not Dan Cooper? -Mmm.
Oh, that old skinflint.
I wonder what the world will come to next.
I thought it was very decent of him.
A small gesture of his appreciation.
For services rendered, no doubt.
That's the sort of thing, yes.
Well, if his wife made them, they won't be bad.
Now you get them things off and finish your tea.
The water's hot for once.
So, if you look sharp, you should get a hot bath before breakfast.
These sausages are perfection. They're absolutely sensational.
You don't know what you're missing, Tristan!
I don't want to know, thank you.
Are you saying they were a present from Dan Cooper?
Yes, a small token of his appreciation.
"A small token of my appreciation, Mr Herriot."
I'd really appreciate hearing those words coming out of that face.
-Well he didn't actually put it quite like that. -Ah.
See last week, they killed a pig.
Believe me, no pig was ever killed in better cause.
So, you're telling me, that these sausages
are a spontaneous reward for your excellent services?
-Well, aren't they? -James, James,
as a Scotsman, you have much to learn about the Yorkshiremen!
These sausages cost sixpence a pound.
So Dan gave you three, call it one and sixpence,
much less in fact, because it's his own pig.
This is exactly the way that crafty buzzard's mind works.
Generosity, alas, doesn't enter into it.
He's calculated the long term effects of this gift.
What long term effects?
"Decent fellow, Dan Cooper...
"Those marvellous sausages.
"I know. We'll knock a quid off his bill."
That's how he thinks our minds work.
Well, mine doesn't. Shame, isn't it?
Great Scot! I will knock a quid off his bill.
What are you on about now?
That man has just given me an idea of astonishing brilliance.
One that will have far-reaching consequences for all of us.
Why didn't I think of it before?
-What is it? -Pigs!
-Pigs? -Pigs, what else?
You have an old sty at the bottom of the garden.
There's a boiler in the yard for the swill.
Why should we spend good money at the grocer's for our bacon and sausages, when...
With a small initial outlet, we can have our own for nothing.
Well, it's certainly an idea.
It's a rotten one. You're daft, Siegfried.
Keeping pigs is a time-consuming operation.
You don't know what you're taking on.
I'm not taking anything on, dear brother. You are.
What?
Well, I'm sure I don't have to spell it out.
After last night's performance, I have shown the most remarkable restraint.
I seem to remember some passing reference to appearing at this breakfast table
"bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."
Mmm. You should see yourself as James and I see you now.
The truth of the matter is, you're fast becoming a drunken, idle shirker.
That's damn well not fair!
I feed and water that ruddy mare of yours, groom her, muck her out.
Hardly a labour of Hercules,
not even enough to keep you out of mischief.
No, my dear brother, I have your interests at heart.
I shall buy seven weaners and you should be their swineherd.
-Sieg... -Save your breath to cool your porridge.
My mind is made up. Seven is the perfect number.
When the time comes, we'll sell six. Keep the seventh for ourselves.
I'll teach you how to slaughter it.
If you can do a post-mortem, that's halfway to being a good butcher.
It's the marvellous thing about a pig. You use everything, there is no waste.
Meat for roasting, bacon for curing,
buckets of lard, gallons of blood for black puddings...
Trotters, chitterlings, bath chaps, brawn,
and, of course, you use the intestines for sausage skin.
(GAGGING)
It's what he needs, you know, James. A new interest in life...
Or death. Depending how it takes you. Oh, well.
Let the day unfold!
Is it a going to be a busy one?
Now why do you say that?
I only thought you said last night...
James, sometimes, you just don't listen.
It's the joy of our trade, though, isn't it?
You simply never know, things just build up out of the blue.
You start by putting your feet up, and you end up being rushed off them.
(TELEPHONE RINGING)
Oh.
What's your programme?
I suppose I better have another crack at Dent's pig's ear.
Good idea. You do that.
It really needs two.
Nonsense! A simple little thing like that?
Yes, the job is.
She's a vicious old monster.
Oh really? I didn't get that impression!
If you can't manage it yourself, get Dent to give you a hand.
-Good morning, Miss Harbottle, you're early on the scene. -Morning.
It's past nine, Mr Farnon. I answered the phone as I came in.
And?
Mr Heaton, out at Bronsett.
Dead sheep. He'd like a post-mortem.
-Is he still on the line? -Yes.
Tell him we'll be out in about half an hour.
-Very well. -Thank you, Ms Harbottle.
We?
Yes, I'd like you to come along.
I gather they teach you blokes a pretty hot post-mortem procedure.
I'd like to see you in action.
Fine.
Come on then.
What about Dent's sow?
Oh, to hell with Dent's sow.
-(DOGS BARKING) -Come on, boys. What on earth on you doing upstairs?
Come on. Come on. Go out! Come on.
Where are we going? Heaton's is the other end of the village.
Not Heaton's James. Seaton's.
-Ms Harbottle said... -Seatons!
-Seigfried, I promise you... -Look, James,
Ms Harbottle delivered me a message. I'm not hard of hearing. She said Seatons.
Clearly and distinctly, as I said just now.
Sometimes, you just don't listen.
Stay there, dogs.
Gah! I didn't bring my PM knife. You got yours on you?
-Afraid not. -Never mind.
No problem. They'll lend us something.
Hello!
Why, Mr Farnon, what a nice surprise. Mr Harriot, too.
I need a carving knife, please.
-A carving knife? -Yes, Mrs Seaton, the sort of knife you carve meat with.
A good sharp one, please.
I'm sorry, yes of course, Mr Farnon. Just a minute.
Well, this is no damn good. It's got to be really sharp for this job, don't you see...
It's our best carver, Mr Farnon.
I don't care what it is. Have you got a steel?
Thank you, Mrs Seaton.
-Where is your husband? -He's out.
What?
In the fields somewhere.
We'll just have to manage without him. Haven't got all day.
Where's the sheep?
Sheep?
Mrs Seaton, I'm a very busy man. You've got a dead sheep.
Your husband telephoned this morning, he wants a post-mortem.
-No, Mr Farnon. -Yes, Mrs Seaton.
But Mr Farnon, we haven't got any sheep!
Well, really.
Cattle. A few pigs. Poultry. No sheep. Ask Mr Herriot.
Is this true, James?
It was true when I came about a month ago.
And you failed to inform me?
Mrs Seaton, we owe you an apology.
I can't understand how this silly misunderstanding arose. I'm extremely sorry.
Oh, it's nothing, Mr Farnon.
I'm sure it's Mr Heaton who wants to see you.
Two names like ours, we're always getting mixed up.
James.
Yes.
You really have to be more a bit more careful in the future.
That sort of thing...
It's not only embarrassing, creates a bad impression.
Ah, there you are, James.
Mrs Pumphrey was on the telephone. She wants you to see her pig.
Pig, Siegfried?
Don't be tiresome, James.
She has a six-week old pig. She wants it examined for soundness.
I suppose Tricky Woo's bottom is playing him up again.
James, I'm not in the habit of repeating myself. However...
Pig, pig, pig.
She has a pig. She wants it thoroughly vetted.
Now, you know how I feel about these examinations.
I would not like you to skimp it in any way.
If I were, I should pay particular attention to its wind.
Have it well galloped around the paddock before you get your stethoscope on it.
And, for goodness sake, don't miss anything obvious like curbs or ringbones.
Take its height while you're at it.
Have a measuring stick along.
Yes.
All right, well off you go. See her at once, James.
By the by, I saw Croxton. You can leave the Austin on your way back.
What for?
Engine needs a rebore.
Using far too much oil.
Look, I know that Seigfried. How did you know?
You've been sending up smoke signals all over the countryside.
(LAUGHING)
See you tonight, James.
(DOORBELL RINGING)
Interesting to see how Mrs Pumphrey can ruin a pig's digestion.
Oh, I thought Mr Farnon was in here.
He's just gone out, Mrs Hall.
Well there's a gentleman come to see him.
Oh, would you show him in, please?
Would you come in, please?
Hello! You're the new vet, aren't you?
Yes.
I was hoping to see Seigfried. I'm Richard Edmundson, by the way.
James Herriot. I'm afraid Siegfried's out on a call.
Oh, pity. I wanted him to come have a look at my mare.
Well, I could come out this afternoon.
Oh, thanks. I'd prefer Siegfried to take a look at her.
She's rather valuable.
Oh, I see.
Well, I'll leave... I'll leave Siegfried a note.
I have to be off, you see.
Car keys, car keys...
That old Austin yours now, is it?
Yes, matter of fact it is. Siegfried's given it to me.
Well, you'd better ask him to get you a new set of tyres.
Oh, you noticed.
One day we could meet head-on in the country lane.
Yes, I daresay we could.
Oh, well, so long, old boy.
Thanks for the tip.
Well? What is your verdict, Mr Herriot?
You are the owner of fine, healthy young piglet, Mrs Pumphrey.
Oh, what a wonderful relief!
-He's quite adorable, isn't he? -Mmm.
I've decided to call him Nugent.
-Nugent? -Yes.
After my great uncle Nugent.
He was a little pink man with tiny eyes and a snub nose.
The resemblance is quite startling.
Really? How very interesting.
Oh, Mr Herriot, if you only knew how excited I am
at having a pig of my very own.
Yes, I can believe that, Mrs Pumphrey, but what actually decided you?
Oh, darling Tricky, of course!
I worried so much about him being an only-dog
and this seems a perfect solution.
Well, it's certainly a solution. I'm sure they'll get on very well together.
However, Mrs Pumphrey, there is just one thing.
What's that, Mr Herriot?
Nugent can't live in the house.
-You don't mean it! -I'm afraid so.
But that's a dreadful thing to say!
He can't possibly live out of doors. He might catch pneumonia.
As a matter of fact, he's more likely to catch pneumonia if he lives indoors.
-But Mr Herriot... -I'm absolutely serious, Mrs Pumphrey.
Now if you can get Hodgkin to build him a nice, warm sty
and a good, long outside run,
I promise you he'll be much healthier and much happier.
In that case...
Well, Nugent, you heard what Uncle Herriot said.
If it's a question of your health and happiness.
(DOG BARKS)
Uh, uh, oh, no! Tricky. Naughty!
It's for your own good, darling.
We'll just have to do what he says.
Do you think he'll get very much bigger?
(DOOR SLAMS)
Hi, Siegfried! Off to...
Mr Farnon? I must have a word with you.
I'm a bit pressed for time, Ms Harbottle.
Naturally.
When it comes to practical matters of business, you always are.
I don't wish to seem impertinent, Mr Farnon.
As my employer, I have a duty towards you.
-Now, if I'm to bring any order out of this chaos... -(PHONE RINGING)
Don't go away, Mr Farnon. It's probably for you in any case.
Mr Farnon's secretary speaking.
Oh, good morning, Colonel Brent.
I'm not in!
Yes, he is, right beside me.
Will you hold on a moment?
Colonel Brent for you, Mr Farnon.
Fine.
Yes? Speaking.
Yes, of course I know which two-year-old.
What do you mean, it's gone lame again?
You're telling me you've had that animal out on exercise? Goddamn and blast it, man!
I give the strictest instructions that leg
was to be rested for at least two weeks!
Well, if you will employ a village idiot as your head lad,
that's your funeral, not mine. Good bye!
Miss Harbottle,
if I say that I don't wish to speak to somebody...
You said nothing of the sort, Mr Farnon.
You said you were not here. I have no intention of lying on your behalf.
Now, will you kindly look at this?
It's a perfect example of what I was talking about just now.
Go on, Mr Farnon, read it for yourself.
(GASPS)
(YELPS)
(WHIMPERS)
(DOOR OPENING)
By jove, James! We're going to slay those little teasers tonight. I'm just in the mood.
How do I look?
Fine!
(HUMMING)
Tristan! You can usefully do this job.
A job? Now?
Now, certainly. Charlie Dent's pig's ear needs lancing. Go and do it, now.
You're out of your mind, Siegfried!
Are you questioning my orders?
In this instance, yes. I know all about that ruddy pig.
It's a killer! It's also pitch dark!
What am I supposed to do, hold a torch in one hand, and a lancer in the other
while it disembowels me?
(CHUCKLING) Charlie Dent will give you a hand.
No, he won't. It's Saturday evening.
The whole family goes to the pictures every Saturday evening.
Well, you'll simply have to manage alone.
-I'll come, Tris. -No, you won't, James. You won't do anything of the kind.
It's your evening off. Besides, a simple little job like that.
Tristan's deliberately exaggerating the difficulties.
Oh, all right. Be the boss if you want to.
I'll just go and change the glad rags.
No, you won't.
What?
The case is urgent. Go now, as you are.
But this is my only decent suit!
Yes, I know. It's a shame.
That kind of thing is an occupational hazard in our profession.
(CLOCK CHIMING)
My God! You poor old devil!
Yes. Bit of a state, what?
Never mind. Bodies can be washed and suits cleaned.
How was the dance?
Oh, I didn't go. I wasn't in the mood, somehow.
It's all Siegfried's fault. Where is he?
He's gone up to bed. He's taking early calls.
Pity.
I'd like him to have seen me like this.
Yes! At least he'd know you tried.
Tried? My dear chap, I succeeded!
You didn't!
I don't mind telling you, it was pretty unnerving at first.
I got to the sty... Pitch dark.
There I was, all alone. Nothing but that creature,
unseen, grunting and growling on the other side of the wall.
-I wasn't feeling a bit happy, James. -I can imagine!
Anyway, finally, I shone the torch on the creature's face.
It charged at the light, roaring like a lion
and showing all those deathly yellow teeth.
Well, I nearly wrapped it up and came home there and then.
When I got to thinking about the dance,
and all those dear little fresh-faced nurses...
Anyway, that was all it needed.
I was over the wall in a flash,
and flat on my back in that dreadful pig muck even quicker.
The torch had gone out.
I suppose she couldn't see enough to get a bite in when she charged.
I just heard this bark
and felt this terrific weight against my legs as I went down.
It's a funny thing, James.
I'm not a violent man, but lying there, all my fears vanished.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was on my feet,
booting her arse round and round the sty!
And that's what's so extraordinary! She was a coward at heart.
She showed no fight at all.
Good for you, Tris!
Oh, yes.
Gave my poor old battered ego the most tremendous boost.
But what about the ear?
I mean, how did you open the hematoma?
-It was no problem. -Oh!
While I was chasing her, she crashed into the wall.
The thing burst itself. It made a beautiful job.
(BOTH LAUGHING)
Morning, Siegfried.
Kippers cooked in butter. One of the more exquisite culinary fragrances.
The Austin needs a complete new set of tyres.
Really? At whose bidding?
-Richard Edmundson. -Richard Edmundson?
What on earth are you talking about? You don't even know the man!
I do now.
Had a puncture on the way to Croxton's. He had virtually predicted it.
What infernal nerve!
I think he's running some sort of road safety campaign in his paper.
Definitely is.
Anyway, he said it was dangerous driving the car with tyres like that,
and asked me to pass the message on, sort of.
So I have.
Thank you. That man's a menace. Getting much too big for his boots.
Just because he runs a miserable local rag,
he thinks he can start chucking his weight around.
New tyres? Forsooth, I'll give him new tyres when I see him next!
I didn't take to him too greatly myself.
A condescending sort of chap, I thought.
Yes, he is.
He hasn't heard the last of this, I can tell you.
Morning, Siegfried. You're going to love this!
Did you lance that ear?
Oh, it was no bother at all. Listen.
This is addressed to Mr Tristan Farnon.
It's not Esquire, mark you, but never mind.
"Dear Mr Farnon, in view of your brother's unspeakable behaviour,
"I cannot bring myself to communicate with him directly.
"The meaning of the word 'gentleman' is one which is plainly unknown to him.
"You'll be so good as to inform him that of this date,
"I am no longer in his employment.
"Yours truly, Winnifred Harbottle."
You've got a nerve, Siegfried. Fancy goosing the Harbottle!
I find that remark in extraordinary bad taste.
Did you say... Do you mean... She's not returning here?
It's fairly obvious, isn't it?
Oh, what a beautiful morning.
James, my boy,
it's a wonderful day! Come on, dogs! Come on, come on!
(SINGING) # Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah #
Well, my brother's out on a job, Mr Crump.
No, I really couldn't say.
Well, our secretary's indisposed, so I'm on duty here.
Mr Herriot could come.
Right, fine. I'll tell him. Good bye.
What was all that about?
Nothing you can't handle, my boy. Crump's mare, touch of Monday morning disease.
Right. I'll be off.
Oh, James?
Yes?
Helen Alderson.
What about her?
Well, I've not been idle on your behalf.
In fact, I've been putting out delicate inquiries.
Oh, you haven't!
Oh, calm yourself. My second name is diplomacy.
-Hmm. -I've come up with a very useful lead.
What is it?
You're a bit of a classical music addict, aren't you?
-Mildly, why? -So is she.
She is a member of the Darrowby Music Society.
And every Tuesday, come rain or shine,
attends their evenings in the village hall.
You might do worse than become a member yourself.
Thank you, Tristan.
I am not ungrateful.
That's it, Mr Crump.
-In here. -Oh, thanks.
It's a right funny thing, Mr Herriot.
If it happens at all, it's always over a weekend!
That's why it's called Monday morning disease.
Aye, but why does it happen?
Well, I don't think anybody knows for certain.
It has something to do with the suspension of
normal work and exercise over a couple of days.
-Hmm. -Still, at least we know how to cure it.
Aye, fomentation, massage and forcible exercise.
That's it. And no corn, just bran.
Back to normal in a couple of days.
Thank you, Mr Herriot.
Would you like a drink of my wine?
-Well... -Albert!
Albert! Stop it!
Mr Herriot doesn't want any wine.
Ooh, I wish you'd stop pestering people so.
Him and his homemade wine. He's always looking for a victim.
I'm going down to the village now, to see the school play.
I'll have to go. We're late as it is. Come along, children.
That's it. Off you go.
How about that drink, Mr Crump?
You would? You'd really like to try some?
I'd love to. I haven't had my supper yet. Something to whet the appetite!
(LAUGHING) Aye, well... Come one, sit down here.
-Make yourself comfortable, Mr Herriot. -Thank you.
-Oh. -Ta.
Great Scot!
All your own work, Mr Crump?
Every drop of it, aye!
Now, I think we'll start with the rhubarb.
Mmm!
Oh.
Yes. Yes, I see, Mr Bamford.
Well, they're both out at the moment.
I was expecting Mr Herriot back some time ago.
Wait a jiff! Mr Crump's place is just down the road from you, isn't it?
Well, it's worth a try, and if he comes back in the meantime,
I'll send him straight out.
Right. Fine. Good bye!
-Oh, aye. It's a good year for parsnip. -Ooh!
Now then. Oh, you must try the dandelion.
Here we are.
Here y'are!
Now.
There you are.
Thank you.
Ah. How do you find that, eh?
-It's very good. -Aye.
Excellent!
-Oh, bit sharpish, maybe, eh? -No!
(BURPS)
I like a good, dry white wine myself.
Mr Crump? I must congratulate you.
Oh!
You know... Thank you, Mr Herriot. Much appreciated.
Ooh, oh! Oh, now then, you must... You must try this one.
Um... Oh.
You must...this one. This one is... Oh, dear!
You must try this one.
Oh.
Yes... This one...
This one.
In my opinion, it's comparable with a good Mosel.
Ah.
-I made it last year. -Oh.
And I'd very much appreciate if you told me what you think of it.
Now, then.
MAN: Mr Crump!
Mr Crump!
Is the vetinerary still here?
Oh! You keep on trying it.
-Mr Crump! -All right!
Hello.
It's Bamfords up at Hollybush.
His cow's on calving. It's only just up the hill here.
-Call of duty. -Ah.
I must be going.
Many thanks.
Hey! It's raining, it is. It's raining like hell.
Come... No, you can't go out like that. Here. I know. Take this.
-There you are. -Oh!
Most thoughtful.
Are you all right?
(BOTH LAUGHING)
-Bye, Mr Crump! -Goodbye, Mr Herriot.
(MOOING)
(LOUD MOOING)
Looks like a leg back. Big, roomy cow.
Shouldn't be difficult.
(SLURRING) Could you please bring me a bucket
of hot water, some soap and a towel?
(WHISPERING) Can I have a bucket of hot water,
some soap and a towel? Please!
(MOOING)
Thank you.
(COW MOOING)
Thank you.
There we are, gentlemen.
A fine bull calf.
Now if you just rub him down with a few whiffs of straw,
and then pull him round for his mother to lick.
(HICCUPPING)
(DOGS BARKING)
-Morning, James! -Morning.
Good Lord! Why on earth are you walking like that?
Nothing the matter with you, is there?
No. Had a few glasses of Crump's wine last night. My tummy's a bit upset.
Oh! Crump's wine? Good grief, that stuff's lethal!
Sure it was only a few glasses?
Yes. Yes. Juat a few.
Wait a minute, Tristan. Didn't you say that
James delivered a calf at Bamford's after Crump's?
-As a matter of fact... -Did you, James?
Now you come to mention it, yes I did.
Okay.
Um... Successfully?
Oh, yes. Rather. Why?
Well, it's just the Bamford's are strict Methodists, old boy.
Grand chaps, but dead nuts against drink.
If they thought you were under the influence of alcohol,
they wouldn't have any of us on the place again. They didn't notice anything?
Oh, heavens, no.
Extraordinary idea.
It's a good thing. And now, little brother, I've a treat in store for you.
(SQUEALING)
There you are, my boy. Seven beautiful, bouncing baby porkers.
I'm a man of my word. They're all yours to feed and fatten.
Thanks a million. Just what I've always wanted.
Follow me, gentlemen.
The boiler, Tristan.
What about it?
Neglected these many years. Clean it up and get it working again.
Your new young charges are going to need all it can provide.
Swill, Tristan, swill.
From now on, no wastage in this house.
Every potato skin and bacon rind is going to count.
That's cannibalism.
Possibly. I'm not unduly concerned.
James, come with me, I want to talk to you.
(HUMMING)
Are you sure you can manage, Mr Herriot?
Yes, thanks, Mrs Crump.
It is good of him to help with the washing up.
Do you know, I've never known anyone so willing.
It's all right!
Oh, well, then, I'll be getting back to the discussion.
These musical society evenings are very interesting, don't you think?
Yes. Very.
It is very good of you to help with the washing up.
I hate washing up.
Well, I'll wash and you can dry.
-Yes! All right. -Hmm.
When did you decide to join the musical society?
Just a few days ago.
Someone told me about it.
So you like music?
(RATTLING)
Very much.
MAN: Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, if you please, if you please...
Would you like to leave this and go back to the discussion?
Oh, no. This part's a bit boring.
Oh.
Did you get your car back all right after the flat tyre?
Oh, you heard?
Yes, I heard.
Siegfried's given me a complete new set of tyres.
Oh, splendid!
And he's given me a rebore, too. Suddenly I'm quite mobile again.
(SIGHING)
Can I see you some time?
If you like.
Saturday evening?
Yes, all right.
(BOTH LAUGHING)