(SIEGFRIED SNEEZING)
(COUGHS)
(GROANING)
(COUGHS)
(SNEEZES)
No better, I see.
No. A real stinker of a cold, this one.
I'd take it easy if I were you, Siegfried.
Yes, I'd be too. It's bad news for you, I'm afraid.
Means you'll have to carry the whole burden yourself, James.
That's no great problem providing the visiting list is reasonable.
Yes. Well...
Here it is.
Oh, yes. Thanks.
Two herds to inoculate,
three castrations, seven post-operative examinations...
Siegfried, I'll never cope with this lot!
Don't over-dramatise, James. They're just in and out jobs.
It'll be a piece of cake, you'll see.
What about surgery?
Oh, don't worry about that. You'll fit it in somehow.
-Morning! -JAMES: Morning.
How's the cold, Siegfried?
If one could rely on certain parties to do their fair share of the work,
one's cold might be better.
I might not even have a cold at all.
That's not my fault you're in an unhealthy state.
And if I could sit in a room without it being fouled with tobacco smoke!
Now, you smoke too, you know! In fact, we all smoke in this house.
No, I don't. Not anymore. Filthy habit!
Oh, I see. The fanatical zeal of the ex-smoker?
All right, go on! Poison your body, stunt your growth.
Kill yourself for all I care!
-(DOORBELL RINGS) -I'll go.
-No, you won't! Let him. -(DOG BARKING)
You've got your visits to prepare.
(BARKING CONTINUES)
Hello, Tristan. Is James Herriot in?
Yes, of course. I'll fetch him, Helen.
-Thank you. -(DOOR CLOSES)
(WHISPERING) Shh, shh. Quiet.
(WHISPERING) Psst! James!
What?
SIEGFRIED: What?
-(DOOR CLOSES) -Who is that?
It's her! Helen Alderson.
-Helen? -Mmm. She wants to see you.
Well, what are you waiting for?
Well, It's a bit embarrassing, isn't it?
I was out dancing the other night.
The last time she saw me I was so pie-eyed, I couldn't stand.
Oh, go on! Get in there.
Wait!
-Just back from the laundry. -Right.
TRISTAN: Marvellous! You're an immaculate young surgeon.
Perfect. Now wait, I'll show her in.
(CLEARS THROAT)
Mr Herriot will see you now, Ms Alderson.
Thank you. Come on.
JAMES: Thank you, Tristan.
You sure you don't need any help?
Well, If I do, I'll call.
TRISTAN: Excuse me.
Thank you.
(DOOR CLOSES)
-Hello, Helen. -Hello, James.
It's Dan.
He jumped over a wall this morning
and I think he's hurt himself rather badly.
Ah.
Right, let's have him up on the table, shall we?
Come on, Dan.
Up we go. That's it. That's a good dog.
I hope it's nothing serious.
He's as much a pet as a working dog.
Good dog.
Hmm.
I'm afraid he has a dislocated hip, Helen.
And it's nasty.
Still, with luck I should be able to put it back.
And if you can't?
He'd have to form a false joint,
and on top of that he'd be lame for months.
The fact that you brought him in so promptly means he has a very good chance.
I'll get Tristan. It's a bit of a two-man job.
Oh, couldn't I help?
Well, I'm not sure you'd like playing tug-of-war with Dan in the middle.
(CHUCKLES) Oh, I'm quite strong and not a bit squeamish.
All right.
Slip on a coat and we'll get to it.
I'm going to use Nembutal, a new American drug.
(WHISPERING) It's all right.
Knock him out in seconds. Sit.
Did you enjoy the dance last Saturday?
Well, I was surprised to see you there.
Ah, you do remember?
Of course, I remember!
Not a very pleasant memory either, considering the state I was in.
You seemed to be having a nice time.
How's Connie?
Oh, Connie? Oh, I don't know.
That was the first and last time we met.
-You're having me on, aren't you? -Just a bit.
Well, come on, we've got work to do.
Whatever you say, James.
What the deuce are you up to, Tristan?
Shh.
What's going on in there?
It's James and Helen.
HELEN: (MUFFLED) You make the job look so easy.
Have you no scruples, man?
HELEN: (MUFFLED) I imagined it would be more difficult.
Come away, Tristan!
(SIEGFRIED COUGHING)
Thank you, James. That was a wonderful piece of work.
I had a good assistant.
-Helen? -Yes.
Remember when we had dinner that time,
you said that you were interested in Scotland?
Yes.
Well, I was passing the Plaza the other day,
they're showing a film about the Hebrides.
Oh, really?
The point is, I was wondering...
Well, I thought perhaps you might like to see it with me.
That would be lovely. When?
Well, I thought maybe, Friday evening?
Fine. I'll see you then.
Good!
I'll get Dan into the car.
HELEN: I'll open the door.
Good morning. I won't keep you waiting long.
Oh, Mr Farnon, will you and Mr Herriot be back to lunch?
No thanks, Mrs Hall. We'll give it a miss today.
-All right, just as you like. -All right, thank you.
-Who's first on the list? -Er, Dalbys, I think.
Yes. You know them, James?
No, heard you mention them, though.
You'll like them. Grand little family.
My God, the struggles they've had to survive.
A convict sentenced to hard labour couldn't have had it worse than that.
It amazes me the way some of these hill farmers manage to stick it out.
Pride, James. Sheer, stubborn pride, that refuses to quit.
Now, we think we know these people, we think we can
understand their problems, sympathise with their hardships, but we can't.
We only see what they want us to see.
The cheerful smiles, the cups of tea, the food they offer us,
it means they go without, be sure of that.
They're a breed apart.
We can't begin to understand the frightening day-to-day reality of their lives.
I'll tell you, James, It'd break softies like us in no time.
You like the Dalbys, don't you?
Yes, they possess an exceptional quality.
The unbreakable human spirit.
Anyway, seems that their efforts have met with some reward.
Billy Dalby's managed to scrape enough money together
to get himself some decent cows, at last.
So, we'll go and have a look at them, shall we?
JAMES: Right.
-SIEGFRIED: (GROANS) Come on, you lot! -(DOGS BARKING)
(SIEGFRIED SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)
-Hello, Charlie. -Hello, Mr Farnon.
-This is them, now is it? -Aye.
Uh-huh.
-(SIEGFRIED CLICKING TONGUE) -(COW MOOING)
Steady, steady, steady. Steady.
Is the family about?
Aye, in the house.
SIEGFRIED: Steady, girl. Steady, steady, steady.
(MOOING)
Come on, William, love. Eat up now. There's a good...
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
-Mr Farnon! -Hello, Billy!
-Mrs Dalby! -Good morning, Mr Farnon.
I say! William, you've grown some.
Soon you'll be able to put your father out to grass, won't you?
You'll take a mug of tea and some pie with us, won't you?
No, not today, Mrs Dalby, we haven't got much time, you see.
Now, you don't know my assistant, Mr Herriot.
-We're pleased to meet you, Mr Herriot. -How do you do, Mrs Dalby?
-Mr Herriot. -Mr Dalby.
Well, now then, Billy, I've looked at those cows.
They are a fine lot, aren't they?
And they're all ours, Mr Farnon.
Off you go, lad. Give Charlie a hand, to get them ready for Mr Farnon.
Yes, Dad. Ciao, Mr Farnon.
Bye, William. I'll see you in a moment. (LAUGHING)
Lad doesn't know whether he's coming or going.
Us getting that herd,
well, I'd given him all his Christmas presents rolled into one.
Isn't that so, Billy?
I'm sure we all feel a bit the same, lass.
Anyway, Mr Farnon, it's kind of you to drop by.
Not a bit of it, Billy. We'll take a closer look at those cows,
and then Mr Herriot can come out later and give them the test.
-I'll come with you. -No need to do that.
I'd prefer it, if you don't mind.
I mean, it's the first chance I've had to show them off, kind of thing.
What a good idea. On we go!
SIEGFRIED: I'll take these out...
MRS DALBY: Mr Herriot.
Next time, you'll share a pot of tea with us, I hope?
-I'll look forward to that, Mrs Dalby. -Good.
James, have you read this article about Rayne's Abbey?
No. What about it?
Well, this chap here writes that several monks
were massacred there in the 14th century.
-So? Got a pen? -Mmm.
Oh. Thank you.
Well, it means that there's an historical basis
for the ghost that's supposed to haunt the place.
-(SCOFFS) Ghost? -Yes.
"I hope you..."
The Cowled Monk, ghost of Rayne's Abbey.
Rot and superstition, Tristan.
Just people with overheated imaginations.
Ah, you may scoff!
Remember what Shakespeare said?
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio," than anyone might...
(MUMBLING)
Don't talk rubbish, Tristan. Anyway, I'm off.
-Oh? -Yes.
I've got a date with Helen, actually. I'm taking her to the Plaza.
Hmm.
-Have I said something wrong? -No.
It's just...
Well, the Plaza, James? It's hardly very enterprising, is it?
Ah, enterprise!
Now, I tried enterprise, Tristan, when I took her to that dinner-dance, remember?
And it was a shambles.
So, tonight, I play safe.
Hmm, well, you'll find nowhere safer than Darrowby Plaza, I assure you.
Good! A nice quiet evening, no disasters.
Just the job.
Bye.
(MARCHING MUSIC PLAYING)
NEWSCASTER: Four strong men sat round a table and there was peace in Europe.
Four strong men return home.
(CROWD CHEERING)
(NEWSCASTER SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)
It started.
(NEWSCASTER SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)
Thank you.
Courting seats, last three rows.
NEWSCASTER: ...the people are on buildings and jam-packed streets...
Thank you.
NEWSCASTER: ...and the answer of France.
Thank you.
Excuse me. Excuse me.
(DRUNKENLY) Hey, out then, veterinary?
(CHUCKLES)
(WHISPERING) Hello, Mr Newhouse.
Ooh! Are ya...
-Are you having a night out then, are you? -Yes.
-Hey, no hanky-panky, mark you. -(SNIFFS)
(LAUGHING)
(NEWSCASTER SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)
He's dead.
JAMES: Dead?
Aye.
I don't think it were nowt to do with her stomach neither.
Well, I'm sorry to hear that...
You were wrong. From the start, you were on the wrong track.
(NEWSCASTER SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)
I've been around beasts nigh on 40 years,
and they never goes like that when it's their stomach.
You don't say.
For one thing, a beast with a bad stomach is always hard in it's muck.
And you'll think back, young fella, this one's muck was soft.
It were right soft.
(TRUMPET FLOURISH PLAYING)
(LOUD SNORING)
-(WHISPERING) Some chocolates? -Oh, thank you.
(DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING)
Arizona Guns?
What's happening? This can't be set in Scotland.
They sometimes change the films here without letting anyone know.
(CHUCKLING) Nobody seems to mind.
Well, I do!
(GUNFIRE)
Hey, watch it! Watch it!
(SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY)
(GUNFIRE CONTINUES)
Are you all right, Helen?
-Like you said... -(LAUGHS)
(DOOR OPENS)
-TRISTAN: Morning, Mrs Hall. -Morning.
-That looks good. Shall I try some? -No.
-Yes, of course, Mr Cranford. -(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
Well, If it's what you say it is, there'll be no problem, will there?
-Morning. -Morning, James.
-Is it? -TRISTAN: Morning, James.
Yes, I'll look at it sometime this afternoon.
-Morning, Mrs Hall. -Morning.
Well, how did it go last night?
Oh, fine. Fine.
You mean Helen actually enjoyed the Plaza?
One of the best nights she's spent in years, so she says.
Will you stop that?
It were out again last night.
Out again? What was...
-The ghost of Rayne's Abbey. -Oh.
Well, Tom Weatherby and his missus were up that way, they swear they saw it.
They probably imagined it, Mrs Hall.
You see, James? There must be something to it.
Well, you wouldn't catch me up there at that time of night, I'll tell ya.
James... What are you all doing in here?
James, I want you to add Isaac Cranford to your afternoon visits.
Isaac Cranford.
Yeah, he's one of the big landowners around here.
Sour old devil. Tight as a drum skin with his brass.
What's his problem?
He says one of his beasts has been struck by lightning.
However, James,
if it's true, sign a certificate of insurance for him, will ya?
I don't remember a storm in the last few days. Do you?
No, but you can't tell until you've seen it, can you?
Mmm-mmm.
Be on your guard, James. He's a cunning old devil.
Mrs Hall, have you got any of those brown leather boot laces?
Aye, in that cupboard. Top shelf.
Good. Thank you very much.
Just what I want.
You'll find his place up beyond Rayne's Abbey.
Who knows, James? Might even get to see the monk.
(SCOFFS)
Monk? What monk?
I was telling James about the ghost of Rayne's Abbey.
Don't talk balderdash, Tristan.
(SHOUTING) And what have I said to you about smoking?
This is only my second today.
That is a downright lie! It's your fourth or fifth, and I'm certain of it!
(CROWS CAWING)
CRANFORD: Like I said, lightning.
I can't agree, Mr Cranford. This beast died in convulsion.
You can see where its feet kicked up the grass.
Aye, convulsions.
But it were lightning what caused it.
I doubt it.
If it had, this beast would've died without a struggle.
I've seen many a beast struck by lightning, veterinary.
They're not all the same, you know.
I think we should do a postmortem just to make sure, Mr Cranford.
Aye.
Aye. It were a good beast. Worth all of £80.
I know it.
Then you'll sign the insurance certificate and stop fussing about.
Look, Mr Cranford, if there's no other obvious cause of death,
then we'll put it down to lightning.
But I've got to check first.
Particular, aren't you?
But I warn you, veterinary, cross me on this and you'll be sorry.
I'll have Mallock get it to his yard and do the postmortem there.
(MONK CHANTING)
(REVVING ENGINE)
(TYRES SCREECHING)
...very reliable person. And he says that...
Oh, the damn ghost business! I forbid this subject mentioned in this house again!
That goes for you too, Mrs Hall.
It's a free country.
Or it would be, if there weren't so many little Mr Hitlers here about.
What did you say?
(SNIFFS)
-Now you see what you've done? -Me?
Encouraging ridiculous superstitions in that poor woman.
(GASPS)
You are not to upset Mrs Hall, Tristan!
(HUFFS)
Stagnation of lungs.
Knew it as soon as I saw it.
What the hell are you talking about?
Stagnation o' lungs, Mr Cranford.
You can always tell of it, look in the eye and right there along back.
Shut your stupid mouth, Mallock. You know nowt about it.
That beast was struck by lightning!
And you'd best remember that.
Can we get it inside, Mr Mallock?
It ain't black rot nor gall stones what killed it, Mr Herriot.
Who asked you?
You can't mistake stagnation o' lungs, Mr Cranford!
-Stagnation of... -Right, Mr Mallock, let's get it inside, shall we?
Aye, right.
(MALLOCK WHISTLES)
Thanks, Mr Mallock.
That's what killed it, Mr Cranford.
What am I supposed to do with this?
Read it, Mr Cranford.
But I know what killed that beast!
Your beast died of acute heart failure, Mr Cranford.
It's all in there.
It's my £80 insurance money I'm thinking about, veterinary.
I'm sorry, it died of natural causes.
You'll have to carry the loss, I'm afraid.
Now look, Mr Herriot.
We're, uh,
both men of the world,
and you know as well as I do that the insurance company can stand the loss better than me.
Besides, they wouldn't know, would they?
I would, Mr Cranford.
Well, that's not going to bother the insurance company, is it?
No, but it would bother me.
Come on, man. Say it were lightning and that's an end to it!
I can't do that, Mr Cranford, and that's final!
I see.
Well, I'll not let the matter stop there.
Your boss is going to hear about this.
Trying to tell me it were heart failure when all the time it were lightning!
You know nowt about stock, Mr Jumped-Up Veterinary. Nowt!
Was what I said it was, Mr Cranford.
Stagnation o' lungs, caused by poisoning blood getting back into the body...
Shut your great gumph, Mallock!
It were lightning what killed my beast. Lightning!
CRANFORD: You'll hear more of this, Mr Knowledge.
For a start, you'll not set foot on my farm again.
And other folk will hear about it too.
You're finished, Herriot! You hear? Finished!
Aye, it's a daft fella that can't accept scientific fact, Mr Herriot.
It's as plain as day his beast died of stagnation o' lungs.
(PUFFING)
(SIEGFRIED MUMBLING INDISTINCTLY)
SIEGFRIED: There you are, sweetie pie.
(COOING INDISTINCTLY)
You're a nice little lady, aren't you?
Ah, James.
James, what the devil have you done to Isaac Cranford?
Had words with you, has he?
Words? The man's out of his mind.
If thoughts were deeds, he'd have you roasting slowly over hot coals.
What on earth happened?
He was caught trying to pull a fast one.
Ah, so his beast wasn't struck by lightning, huh?
Lightning, my foot. It died of verrucous endocarditis.
Endocarditis?
(WHISTLES) No wonder he didn't believe you.
Common enough in pigs, very, very rare in cattle.
I know! Well, rare or not, that's what killed it.
Say no more, say no more.
I'm gonna see the miserable beggar in a short time. I'll soon sort him out.
-Still with us, is he? -Yes. Worst luck. Can't get rid of him!
All right, then, Mrs Selby? Here's Nelly.
All right and tight.
Now you tell your Susan she'll be as right as a cat with two tails.
-Okay? -Thank you.
Goodbye to you.
He's too much of a skinflint to call in outside help now.
So, we're stuck with him, I suppose.
Moans like hell whenever he has to pay. Gives me the creeps, too.
Perhaps you should just strike him off.
No, James, it wouldn't be ethical.
If he walked off of his own accord that's another matter, but he doesn't.
Ah, well, I suppose I shall have to go and see that damn prize boar of his.
Good luck to you.
(LAUGHING) Thank you very much.
Anyway, James, no need for you to worry at all.
SIEGFRIED: Ah.
(SIEGFRIED SINGING HAPPILY)
SIEGFRIED: That's a nasty sore, Mr Cranford.
He probably picked up a bit of something rubbing against the stile, and It's turned septic.
CRANFORD: Hmm.
What do you reckon is to be done about it then, Farnon?
I'll make you up a special ointment for it.
Aye. Nothing fancy, mark you.
Don't want you loading your bill as usual.
You pay for what you get, Mr Cranford.
Aye. Too bloody much if you ask me.
You could always seek other advice, you know.
Reckon I'm stuck with you, Farnon.
Right. I'll post you the ointment.
When you get it, rub it in carefully by hand four times a day.
Have you got that?
Aye, as long as it cures boar.
It will.
Oh! End of the month's coming up.
Perhaps you'd like to clear your bills for the last six months.
Must keep the books in order, you know.
You'll get paid, Farnon.
Never fear.
Right, I'll be off then. Thank you for the soap and water.
And remember, the ointment is to be rubbed in four times a day. All right?
I heard you first time.
Well, I'll say goodbye.
(ENGINE SPUTTERING)
(GROANS)
(ENGINE ROARS)
-Tris, have you seen my hoof knife? -No.
Damn! Must have left it at the Denholms' place.
-Use Siegfried's. -Oh, good idea.
Ah-ha!
Caught red-handed!
-I was just on my way to do Thomson's horse... -Uh-huh.
...and I couldn't find my knife.
I see you lost yours. So, what you thought you'd thieve my brand new one, eh?
I'll put it back straight away!
Ah, yes, we've heard that one before.
Come on, James, confess. What's happened to your knife?
A knife, I may add, paid for with my hard-earned cash.
As a matter of fact, I left it at Willy Denholm's place.
I see.
I'm sure he'll drop it in next time he's in town.
Well, I know of Denholm. He'll consider it the ideal tool for cutting his plug tobacco.
No, James, it won't do.
This business of mislaying things is getting under my skin.
You're just as guilty as he is.
What is the point of my buying expensive equipment
if you two simply turn around and lose it?
You'll agree?
It's got to stop.
Now, you may wonder why it is that I never leave anything behind on the job. Mmm?
Yes, I was going to mention that.
Concentration.
Whenever I put something down,
I form a mental picture of the object.
Which reminds me, you see, to pick it up again.
Oh, I see.
Perfectly simple once you get the knack.
-JAMES: I must try that. -Good.
Excellent, let's consider the subject closed.
Tristan, a faeces sample.
Will you send it to the lab, please, it needs testing for Johne's Disease.
Ugh, the things people send through the post these days.
Never mind the wit.
Check in the day book to see if there's anything else needs sending at the same time.
Oui, mon colonel.
James, uh, what are you up to this afternoon?
-Um, I've got to do Thomson's horse. -Yes, of course you have.
And I thought I'd test the Dalby herd.
Good idea!
Get back as early as you can, will you?
I've got a stack of late jobs lined up for after supper. I want your help.
Anything interesting?
No, no, no, just sheer muscle, I'm afraid.
Oh, Horace Dawson's milk cow Mabel's torn a teat.
I shall need your help stitching it up.
A nice old cow, Mabel, but she goes frantic at the sight of a needle.
Fascinating.
Um...
Mmm-hmm.
Let's have a mental picture, shall we?
I'll see you at supper.
(CHUCKLES)
-(MAN WHISTLING) -(DOG BARKING)
(COW MOOING)
-Hello, Charlie. -Hello, Mr Herriot.
I've come to test the herd.
You'll find them down there at the bottom, yonder.
Oh, fine. Well, I'll just pay my respects first and then we'll get down to work.
All right.
(DOG BARKING)
-Afternoon, Mrs Dalby. -Mr Herriot.
Won't you come in?
I just thought I'd say hello before I get down to work.
Oh, you sit down. Tea will be brewed in no time.
Well, I've got my boots on...
Oh, hush now. You sit.
Thank you.
Billy and William are out working, I'm afraid.
Still, I'm sure you'll see them before you go.
Yes.
There now. There's all your extra bits.
-I'll spoil my supper if I eat all that, Mrs Dalby. -Oh, stuff and nonsense!
Our Billy, he can put twice that much away between meals.
-Oh. -You eat up now.
No need to twist my arm, it looks delicious.
Mmm!
Now that you've got the herd, I suppose you'll be taking on extra help?
It could be a long time before we can afford help like that, Mr Herriot.
It's a lot of work for one man, isn't it?
Oh, we're not doing too badly.
There's William, and Charlie comes over from time to time.
And of course, I'm out there as well.
So you see, we're quite well off for hands.
There now. Just let it brew a minute.
Well, I expect Billy could use all the help he can get.
Aye.
Well, it's Billy who keeps the whole thing running, if you know what I mean.
-Mmm-hmm. -He's always planning, always doing.
Of course, it's not been easy for him this past year.
Finding money for cows, and now getting barn ready for winter.
He's hardly taken time off for sleep these past months.
Still, work's got to be done,
I know that.
-You've got yourself a good man, there. -I have that.
It's just winter that's worse, Mr Herriot.
Keeping cows fed and sheltered through snows.
And still, God willing, we'll come through it.
I'm sure you will, Mrs Dalby.
Come on, James! No need to make a banquet of that supper!
Coming, coming! What's the first job?
Well, it's Joe Kendall. One of his cows has developed some sort of tumour.
Come on, James!
(CAR APPROACHES)
(ENGINE CUTTING)
(DOG BARKING)
(SIEGFRIED HUMMING)
Hello, hello! I see you've got extra manpower this evening, Mr Farnon.
Be gone, Mr Kendall, no time for chitchat at this late hour.
Right, squire.
Oh, something for you.
You left them last time, didn't ya?
Er... Thank you. Where's the cow?
Aye, and while I'm on, you left your brother's castrators time before that.
You never come here without leaving something, do you Mr Farnon? (LAUGHS)
-Really? -Well, let's get on. Let's get on.
If I'd have kept them all, I'd have a drawerful by now!
-(LAUGHS) -Is that so?
Aye, and it's just the same, we old neighbours.
Never called without leaving a souvenir. Do you, Mr Farnon?
Where's the damn cow, Kendall? I haven't got all night, you know.
There he is, Mr Farnon. (LAUGHS)
How are you going to get that lump off then, Mr Farnon?
You'll need a hacksaw or a carving knife for that job, I reckon.
Right, Mr Kendall, anything else want doing while we're here?
KENDALL: No.
Just lump on cow there.
The tumour? Oh, that's gone.
Gone?
Gone, you say?
By God, you're right.
I never saw you use a knife, Mr Farnon.
I didn't, Mr Kendall.
Well, I'm damned if I can see how you got it off without using a knife.
Tricks of the trade, eh?
But it can't just vanish. What've you done with it?
I told you, it's gone.
I've never seen nowt like it.
How the hell did you do it?
If I told you that, I'd be out of a job, wouldn't I?
But the lump were there! I saw it with me own eyes!
Well, if that's all, we'll be saying good night, Mr Kendall.
Aye, good night to thee and all.
What did happen back there?
(SNORTS)
He's a bit of a know-all, is old Joe Kendall.
It'll drive him crazy for weeks not knowing how I did it,
and where the tumour got to.
Where did the tumour get to?
Well, I felt it move the moment I started to examine it.
And when I squeezed it, it just popped out and shot up my sleeve.
-There it is. -(CHUCKLES)
Anyway, it'll keep him guessing, that's for sure.
-By the way, I'm glad you got your stethoscope back. -Ah, yes.
A moment of forgetfulness there. Shan't stray again.
Is this what you're looking for?
(ENGINE REVVING)
I've been practising your mental image system, Siegfried.
It works, you know.
It's a bad tear, Horace. It goes right into the milk channel.
Reckon Mabel would agree with that, Mr Farnon.
That's gonna need a good few stitches in there.
I'll just give her something so she won't feel any pain.
I hope her temper's improved, Horace.
-She's as gentle as a lamb, Mr Farnon. -Rubbish!
She wasn't all that gentle last time, was she?
(CHUCKLES) I reckon you caught her on an off day, Mr Farnon.
Right.
You hold her tightly, James.
Let your attention wander for just a moment and she'll have you!
SIEGFRIED: Right, Horace. Hold her tail, if you will, please.
(MABEL GRUMBLING)
Tightly, James, please.
(GRUNTS)
SIEGFRIED: Easy, girl.
Easy. Easy.
Won't take long.
-(THUDDING) -(GASPS)
All right, girl, not very nice, I know,
but you'll feel better with this inside you.
Nice girl.
Easy.
Easy, there. (SCREAMS)
(MOOING)
Come on, James!
(SIEGFRIED GROANING)
(SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY)
SIEGFRIED: Oh, bother! Bother!
(MABEL MOOING)
All right?
Bloody, but unbroken, I think.
She'll be all right.
It's just getting the needle in that first time, causes all the trouble.
Reckon you've touched her on her tender spots, Mr Farnon.
-I suppose I did, Horace. -(CHUCKLES)
Well, we'll just give the local a few minutes to work and then I'll stitch her up.
Evening, fellas.
Evening, Claude!
-Gentlemen. -You're a bit off your beat, aren't you?
Saw Horace's light.
Thought he might need a hand.
Nay, thanks, Mr Blenkiron, but we've almost finished the job now. (LAUGHS)
Pity you weren't here a few moments earlier, Claude.
You could have tucked Mabel under your arm while I injected her.
(ALL LAUGHING)
Right, then. I'll be on my way back to Darrowby.
-Good night. -Good night.
Oh, hang on a minute, Claude. Would you give Mr Herriot a lift back with you?
(YAWNING) No, it's all right, Siegfried.
No, I just wanted a hand with Mabel here,
I've only got one more visit tonight, I can deal with that.
Besides, we need someone back at Skeldale to man the fort.
-Fine with me, Mr Farnon. -Aye.
-Are you sure you don't need me? -No, no. Off you go.
Oh, thanks, Siegfried.
I'll be right with you, Mr Blenkiron.
Night, Claude!
-Good night. -Good night.
You've been away for a bit, haven't you?
Aye, Leeds. Defending me title, I was.
What title is that, Mr Blenkiron?
-Northern heavyweight champion wrestler, Mr Herriot. -Oh!
-How did it go? -(SCOFFS)
Reckon I'm still champion.
(CHUCKLES)
Ey up!
My God! We're at Rayne's Abbey!
That's the monk, Mr Blenkiron!
(MONK CHANTING)
Ghost, eh?
Come on. Let's get the bugger.
Come on, Mr Herriot!
(MEN GRUMBLING)
Quick, Mr Herriot! Go around the other side and cut him off.
What happens when we get him?
We'll skin this yokel alive. Come on! Let's have him.
(RIVER RUSHING)
(GROANING)
-Thank you. -Come on, lad! Shift yourself.
Come on, move!
All right, I'm going, Mr Blenkiron!
There he is!
Watch that branch, Mr Blenkiron!
Come on, lad. Get yourself up! Come on.
(PANTING)
(BOTH PANTING)
Shh.
(PANICKED SHOUTING)
(SPLASHING)
Come on!
(PANTING)
Shh. Listen.
(SIGHS) He's given us the slip.
Come on, Mr Herriot. No sense hanging about here.
I've been after that joker for some days now.
Don't you worry, I'll have him yet.
(CLATTERING)
So you are the Rayne's ghost.
-Afraid so. -I should've known.
I really should've known you would've done something stupid like this!
It was only a lark, James.
A lark? You nearly frightened me to death the other night!
Shh! I'm sorry, James. I am, really.
My God, that gorilla Blenkiron would have torn me to shreds if he'd gotten hold of me!
I've got a good mind to tell him.
(TRISTAN CHUCKLES)
No, I've a much better idea.
-I'll leave you to Siegfried. -Oh, now, please!
-What the hell were you up to anyway? -Shh!
It was only a lark, James. I told you.
It worked too.
Of course, I always chose my victims carefully.
I always thought Tom Weatherby could do with a shock, for one.
And me too, I suppose?
I couldn't resist it, James.
Anyway, It was getting the timing right that mattered.
You know, when the drivers aren't sure whether they've seen you or not.
Then you see them revving up and clearing off.
(CHUCKLES)
No, you're right. You're absolutely right. It was a crazy thing to do.
You had better get out of those things before you catch your death.
-Yes, James. -And I'm warning you, Tristan.
If that Rayne's ghost ever appears again, you are for it! Understand?
Don't worry, James, that ghost is well and truly buried.
(SIGHS)
Charlie?
Mr Herriot. Sorry, I didn't hear you.
Well, I was just passing. I thought I'd look in to see how things were.
That's kind of you.
You sit down. I'll make you a pot of tea.
No, no. It's all right, really.
Please, Mr Herriot. Besides, I was just going to get one for myself.
Has Billy managed to get the hard stand in for the barns laid yet?
No. Not finished.
-William and Charlie are... -Mum!
-Oh. Hello, Mr Herriot. -Hello, William.
You look as if you're hard at it.
Charlie and me have finished off the barns, haven't we, Mum?
Aye, and you make sure you make a proper job of it.
Dad showed us how.
Anyway, we need more cement. Will you order it for us?
Your father ordered some, should be here tomorrow I expect.
Aye, as long as you have the job done before Dad gets back.
-Bye, Mr Herriot. -Bye, William.
Billy's away, is he?
-He's in hospital. -Hospital?
Aye.
Happened two days ago.
He'd been out, working all hours.
Got himself a right soaking.
He were taken very poorly.
William thinks it's just something small, that Billy will be back soon.
But I don't know.
Doctors say he's really bad.
Do they know what it is?
Aye. Pneumonia.
Worst kind of pneumonia at that.
Very domestic of you, James.
Tristan.
Yes, Siegfried?
Do you recall that I asked you to post certain items a few days ago?
Uh, the sample to the lab and the ointment to Cranford.
-Exactly. -Well, I did. I posted them both on the same day.
Yes. Quite a simple operation, one might suppose.
Two items, two labels. You simply wrap them up and post them and that's it!
Exactly. So, what's wrong?
"What's wrong?" he says.
See this?
A letter from Isaac Cranford, containing enough venom, enough poison,
to wither a city.
JAMES: Oh, what's he complaining about now?
What's he complaining about?
Well, he's complaining about opening your package,
and smearing the contents liberally over his pig
and working it well in with his fingers four times a day, as instructed.
And then finding it isn't an ointment after all.
What was it?
Infected cow dung!
The infected faeces sample you should have sent to the labs!
-My God, I sent him the wrong package! -Yes, you botched it!
Been smearing it on day after day, it's a miracle the wretched man
isn't a diseased wreck by now!
Interesting to speculate how the labs
are getting on testing the ointment for Johne's Disease.
TRISTAN: I'm sorry, Siegfried.
You hear that, James? He says he's sorry.
Sorry, my boy?
Well, it's nothing for you to be sorry. I just looked in to congratulate you.
Isaac Cranford says he will never ever do business with us again.
You're a genius, Tristan. A genius! You got rid of the old vulture at last!
(ALL LAUGHING)