(SIGHS)
It's just the same as before, Mr Herriot.
Thank you.
-TRISTAN: What's the verdict? -We haven't reached one yet.
I don't know what to make of it, Mr Herriot.
In me college days, I was always told you got a big swollen bag
and dirty milk with them mastics.
But this must be a different kind.
It's just the flaky bits in the milk?
Aye, the same as when you last came.
Only off and on and neither nowt nor summat.
I'm right fed up, I'll tell you.
(CLUCKING)
-It isn't ordinary mastitis. -JAMES: Thanks a lot.
It's worrying the way it keeps going on.
I'm certain there's a definite factor behind it all, Mr Pickersgill.
I wish I could put a finger on it.
-(TRISTAN SCREAMING) -Oh, Mr Farnon!
-What's up, Olive? -Marigold stood on his foot.
-Are you all right, Tris? -It's nothing.
Just a boot full of blood and a broken toe. (COUGHS)
-They can be a right bugger, when they put their weight on. -Yeah.
We'll get you up to the house and have a look.
-We don't want it getting germinated. -Argh!
Thank you, Mr Pickersgill. I wouldn't dream of putting you to so much inconvenience.
-No, it's no trouble, lad. -That's very kind, Mr Pickersgill.
But if I can get to the car, we'll cut the boot off at home.
(SCREAMS) Oh! If Miss Olive could just give me a hand.
-Just you lean on me, Mr Farnon. -(GASPING)
-There. That's the way. -Ah!
OLIVE: Now, take it slow as you please. TRISTAN: Oh, yes.
-He's plucky, there's no denying. -Hmm.
I like to see that in a young fella.
I've got a lot of time for Mr Pickersgill.
He gets all his words mixed up like Mrs, er... Mrs Malaprop.
I've noticed that a few times, yes.
You can't possibly laugh at him.
Well, the point is James, he's a good stockman. He looks after his beasts.
There are four children grown up and gone away now
but it was a big family. He brought them all up decently,
on 10 cows, I think he had, his wife's hens and a few pigs.
-It's no mean achievement, James. -No, it isn't.
What are these college days he's talking about?
Oh, that.
He went on a two-weeks course for agricultural workers
at Leeds University when he was 19.
Two weeks, and it's lasted him a lifetime.
I've known men get less out of four years at Oxford.
But I've got a problem with him now.
-With the flaky milk? -Hmm.
See, I'm pretty certain that I know the cause, but, uh,
-I don't know how to put it to him. -Why not?
It only happens with the cows he milks. Not to Olive's.
-It's the way he milks them? -Hmm. I've watched them both.
He hauls away at those teats as though he were trying to ring in the New Year.
Chronic mastitis of traumatic origins.
It's perfectly possible. I see your difficulty, James.
So silly.
I mean, I know that Olive wouldn't in the least mind
doing the milking herself. I've heard her say so.
But I would hate to hurt his feelings.
Or you might try having a word with Olive on the side.
Well, it's the best idea yet.
-Like yourself a beer? -Hmm, please.
Well, at least you'll be dealing with a Pickersgill and not a Sidlow.
-Sidlow? -Don't tell me you don't know the Sidlows?
No, I don't think I do, as a matter of fact.
I find that remarkable.
Let's say in all the time you've been here, you've never been called to the Sidlows?
No, but that's right.
They always happen when I'm on.
What's so special about them?
The Sidlows, my dear boy, were specially created
to try the lives of unhappy vets.
They are the crosses which each of us in the course of our career
must expect to bear at some time or another.
-As bad as that? -Worse.
You've had an astonishing run of luck.
Only comfort I can glean is that
it cannot possibly last.
-Your turn will come, be sure of that. -(LAUGHS)
-All quiet on the western front? -SIEGFRIED: Well, it was.
Care for a pint, at the Drovers, James?
-Well... -SIEGFRIED: No, go on, why don't you? It'll do you good.
Thank you.
45 minutes to closing time. I doubt if even Tristan can get
truly sloshed in that time.
My brother always puts things so charmingly.
It's difficult to take offence.
-How's the foot, by the way? -Foot?
Oh, that. Oh, it's fine. Fine. Just a bit of skin off the instep.
What did he do to his foot?
One of Pickersgill's cows trod on it.
What were you doing up there?
Well, I haven't qualified yet, Siegfried.
-I... I know, I have an awful lot to learn. -Yeah.
And as it was my free afternoon...
Oh, shut up and buzz off.
-See he behaves himself, James. -JAMES: I'll try.
(DOOR OPENS)
Hello, old fella.
-(PHONE RINGS) -Shh!
(DOOR CLOSES)
(PHONE RINGS)
(PHONE RINGING)
Darrowby 85. Yes, speaking.
Who?
What is it this time, Mr Sidlow?
(GLASS CLINKING)
Of course, one has to try and look at it from a woman's point of view.
-What does that mean? -There is no need to spell it out, truly.
I mean, Helen had only to crook her little finger,
she could have captured any man she chose.
Handsome, rich, successful.
-Like Edmundson? -Since you mention him. Hmm, not a bit of it.
No, she's as wise as she is beautiful.
-She chooses you. -(CHUCKLES)
Young, devoted, steady, hardworking.
Sensible girl, I say. You'll make her a very good husband.
Oh, thank you. You make it sound so romantic.
That's really what I was coming to.
What are your honeymoon plans?
Oh, I don't know.
I thought we'll just drive around the Dales, and stop at little pubs.
You see? As a friend with your best interests at heart,
I can say it, James. You're not a romantic.
All right, for the sake of argument, I'm not. So what do you propose?
Oh, my dear chap, you got to learn to be.
I mean, it's terribly important to a woman.
Without romance their lives are unfulfilled.
I'll certainly bear that in mind.
You'll do more than that. You'll start right.
Yorkshire Dales and little pubs!
Dismiss them, James. They're not the stuff honeymoons are made of.
Good Lord, is that the time?
It's your call, old chap.
Two pints of bitter, please. Tris? Glass.
Thank you.
All right. What are honeymoons made of?
Well, you didn't think I hadn't been giving it some thought.
-Look at this. -Thank you.
It's a fortnight's cruise for two in the Mediterranean.
40 quid! You must be out of your mind. Where will I find 40 quid?
You see, that's your trouble. The mundane approach. Not a spark of romance.
You have to learn to think big.
I mean, once you face the problem, it's half-solved.
Oh, with £10 in my bank account, I can see that!
-That is a problem, I grant you. -Hmm. Thank you.
Here's to the face that launched 1,000 ships
and burnt the topless towers of Ilium.
Hmm?
-Helen, dear boy. -Oh.
Let the thought of her inspire you.
Imagine yourselves together on the great ship,
gliding through the summer seas,
the soft, spicy air,
jolly games on deck.
-Stromboli erupting by night. -Stromboli?
I believe they go that way sometimes.
It's not important in itself. It's just the feeling I was trying to create.
-It doesn't create 40 quid. -No, damn it. It doesn't.
Have you thought of playing the horses?
Oh, two bob on the favourite at the local point to point is about my limit.
Hmm, that's not going to raise the fare.
It's worth considering though. I mean, I've got a bookie I use now and then.
And Siegfried gets the odd tip,
mark you, he keeps pretty quiet about it.
Thanks, Tris, I appreciate the thought
but not for me. I don't have that kind of luck.
Hup! Hup! Come on! Hup!
Right. Thank you.
Oh, let's have a look, lady.
How old is she, Mr Sidlow?
Twenty-five or thereabout.
It's a goodish age for any horse.
There's another five years' work in her yet.
I trust you intend that as a joke.
But I see you don't.
Let me be plain.
-The poor creature's moribund. -Hmm?
At the point of death, if you prefer.
You mean there's nowt you can do for her?
How long have you been treating her, Mr Sidlow?
Six days. Aye.
She were a bit colicky, that's all.
I stopped that.
Now she seems, er... Uneasy on her feet, like.
I suppose you've been administering
one of your father's sovereign remedies?
Well, I've never known it to fail till this once.
-What was it, man? -The old trick.
I've been pushing raw onion up her rectum.
Three times a day.
I see.
It's hardly worth saying, I know,
but if I'd pushed 18 raw onions up yours,
the chances are you'd be uneasy on your feet, too.
Bring her outside, please.
Outside? What for?
I don't like unnecessary suffering in animals. I'm going to put her down.
Thou'll do no such thing.
I'm not in the habit of repeating myself.
You'll do as I say. At once, Mr Sidlow.
Come on!
Gosh, I should never have mentioned his name.
Conjuring the devil.
Mind you, James, Sidlow thinks he's a just and humane man.
He usually gives his sick beasts
at least a week's devoted nursing before calling us in.
Onions for horses.
A sick cow gets half a pound of lard and raisins
thrust down her gullet three times a day.
The udder must be vigorously massaged with turpentine
and he cuts a bit off the end of the tail to let out the bad.
In the end, of course, we have to be summoned
when he knows we can't do much good.
He's not going to have it settled yet, and given his animal every chance
and besides it proves his contention that vets are useless.
Thanks for telling me.
I should also advise you that the inevitable presence of his five children,
with whom he enjoys a God-like prestige,
who hang around like a silent chorus in a Greek tragedy,
can be unnerving if you're not prepared for it.
I see. Anything else?
I don't think so.
Well, just a very obvious precaution. Always turn the horses for home.
Hmm?
Park your motorcar so you're ready for a smart getaway.
By Scott!
Mostly bills. A couple of cheques.
I don't know what this one is. A classy piece of stationery.
Hmm.
(LAUGHING)
Well, well. That really is rather nice.
-What is? -(CLEARS THROAT)
Of course, no bushel could possibly conceal a light like mine.
It burns with a pure gem like flame that demands recognition.
-That'll do for the build-up. Now what's the letdown? -There isn't one.
Major General HW St John Ransom
requests the pleasure of my company at Broughton Races next Friday.
-Hmm, is that all? -It's a great deal, my boy.
Just because some old blimp you met invites you to the races.
Major General Ransom just so happens to be one of the big noises
of the northwest racing circuit.
And I happen to know that their officials are looking for a veterinary surgeon
to supervise all meetings.
This can only mean one thing.
They're going to examine me for soundness.
I've heard a whisper that they think I might be the man for the job.
But they haven't actually asked you yet?
No, but if they find me keen in my habits they probably will.
If you took it, would that mean giving up general practice?
Certainly no. It'd mean my spending something like
three days a week on racecourses,
which of course, would have its effect on this end...
-Are you going to accept? -Well, I don't know.
One mustn't jump into things without weighing all the pros and cons.
But it is an important job.
I mean, the supervisory vet has to deal with cases of
suspected doping, all that kind of thing.
In fact, he has to be something of a specialist,
which as far as horses go, is precisely what I am.
Yes, I can take James with me. It says "and partner", doesn't it?
You don't think just possibly you're jumping to conclusions?
-No, Tristan, I don't. -(PHONE RINGING)
Oh, thank you, Mrs Hall.
On the whole, it would be a most congenial life.
I love the life of the racing world.
I feel very much a part of it.
The extra money would come in handy, no question about that.
There's no doubt about anything, it would seem.
Well, the date for your invitation is certainly propitious,
Friday the 13th.
(CLEARS THROAT) It's daft really.
Tristan, if you're not being tiresome, you're being absurd.
I'm the least superstitious man I know.
-Hi, dear Mrs Hall. Who was that? -Mr Pickersgill.
It seems he dosed one of his pigs for worms
and now the poor animal's gone bezique.
-Bezique? -Well, that's what he said.
Sounds interesting. What are the symptoms?
He said it's rampageous, jumping about and rolling over on its back.
-(TRISTAN LAUGHS) -Sounds pretty lively.
JAMES: Ah, it looks as though she's going to be all right.
-What did you give her? -Half a grain of morphine hydrochloride.
-More to the point, what did you give her? -Me?
You said something about worm medicine, didn't you?
Oh, aye, that's right.
A bloke came around selling this.
He said it'd shift any worms you cared to name.
It nearly shifted your pig.
Oh, no wonder!
This smells like pure turpentine.
Turpentine!
My God! Is that all it is?
Bloke said it was summat new.
Charged me an absorbent price for it, too.
I shouldn't worry about, Mr Pickersgill, it shouldn't do any harm.
The dustbin's the best place for that.
I reckon you're right.
-Dad? -Oh, in there, Olive, love.
-What about her? -I'll just leave her to sleep it off.
If she's not right by the morning, give me another call.
Thanks, Mr Herriot.
-You'll take a mug of tea? -JAMES: Yes, I would like to. Thanks.
Ah, thanks, Olive.
-Slice of cake, Mr Herriot? -Hmm. Looks delicious. Thanks.
You know, troubles always come in cyclones.
That's what I always say.
Take the mastics, Mr Herriot.
-No improvement? -None, I'm sorry to say.
It's a real mystery, Mr Herriot.
-And always cows Dad milks. -Aye.
Ah, that's nowt to do with it, lass.
Coincidence, you might say.
But there it is.
I, erm...
I don't like to tell any man his job,
but we've tried your remedies, lad.
Milk's still flaky?
I can't say it isn't for it wouldn't be the truth.
But I got to thinking last night.
When I was studying at Leeds University under Professor Mallison,
I noted down a lot of good cures.
And I'd like to try this one.
Oh!
Oh, bloody old back of mine.
-By gow, it gives you stick. -Have you seen a doctor?
He can't do nowt. I've had enough pills to make me rattle.
I don't get no relief.
But never mind me. You read that.
Thank you.
Camphor. Eucalyptus.
Zinc oxide.
Oh, it's an udder salve.
That's right. A good old-fashioned remedy.
I thought if maybe we gave the bags a good rub with that it might do the trick.
Well, there's no harm in trying.
None at all. I'll get some made up for you.
Good lad. I like an open mind.
-But that back of yours, Mr Pickersgill. -What about it?
Well, you've had lumbago ever since I've known you.
-A sight longer. -I've just thought of something.
I think I know what might cure it.
Nay! You know how to put me right?
Well, I think so. Nothing to do with medicine.
-You'll have to stop milking. -Stop milking!
Don't you see, Mr Pickersgill? It's sitting on the crouch on that low stool,
night and morning, every day of the week, that's doing it.
Look, you're a big chap. You have to bend to get down there.
I'm sure it's bad for you.
-You really think that could be it? -Yes, I do.
It's worth a try, anyway. Couldn't Olive do the milking?
-All of it? -There's only 10 cows, Dad.
Course I can! I like milking. You know I do.
And it's time you gave it a rest.
Dang it, young man, I believe you're right.
I'll pack it in now.
-There's not many I takes to these days. -(THUD)
But Mr Herriot's a grand lad.
I think so.
But you've only got one room above.
-Until we can afford a place of our own, yes. -Ha.
-That'll be a while coming, maybe. -(SIGHS)
I expect so.
Meanwhile, I'm afraid, I'm just another mouth to feed.
Aye. I was thinking something of the sort myself.
Your mother was a grand cook, God rest her.
Yes, she was.
And since then you've been cooking for your dad.
I've not heard him complain.
Mother taught me pretty well.
Doesn't happen if you haven't got the gift.
It's my opinion
that every woman should want to cook for her man.
Oh, I know what you're going to say, Mrs Hall.
It's very kind of you, but...
(SIGHS) This is your kitchen.
It wouldn't do for me to come in.
Well, now, it would and it wouldn't.
It is my kitchen and it isn't.
You might say it was Mr Farnon's kitchen, too.
I had a thought in mind.
I'm getting no younger, lass.
-That goes for all of us. -(SCOFFS)
There are some better placed than others.
Me sister's poorly. I'd like the extra day.
If you could give me that, you'd be doing me a real favour
and you'd be keeping your hand in to.
Oh, Mrs Hall,
you're a real dear.
Aye, well, let's get that table laid.
-Ah, there you are. What was it? -Patent worm medicine.
-Oh! -(DOOR CLOSES)
Ah... Now, about tomorrow.
-Tomorrow? -Yes.
Friday the 13th.
Of course, your great day at Broughton Races.
-I'd like you to come with me. -Me? Whatever for?
The pleasure of your company. Besides, I think you bring me luck, James.
You don't need that kind of luck, Siegfried.
This is gonna be a cakewalk. You said so, yourself.
Yes, but still.
It is Friday the 13th.
I thought you weren't superstitious.
No, I'm not. I don't hold with any of that rubbish
but there's no earthly point in taking avoidable risks, is there?
Sensible, I agree.
What does that make me? A sort of lucky mascot?
Yes, that's a fair description.
It's jolly nice of you, Siegfried, but I don't see how I can come.
Why on earth not?
This is high-powered stuff. You said so yourself.
-I am not invited. -Nonsense!
The invitation says "Mr Siegfried Farnon and friend".
That's even better. I thought it said partner.
There you are.
Yes. Well, they obviously expect you to trot along
with some gorgeous pedigree filly straight out of Burke's Peerage.
That'd be a fatal error of judgement.
-Why? -Well,
General Ransom's and Colonel Tremayne's wives.
I've met them both. But both, not to put too fine a point upon it, past their prime.
No, the sort of competition you suggest would be extremely unwelcome.
If I start off by putting their noses out of joint,
my chances would be practically nil.
-I see what you mean. -So I should hope.
My mind's made up. I choose who I please.
I choose you, James. There's an end of it.
(SIGHS) There's no need to look so damn fed up.
-I'm not a bit! -Yes, you are. Don't pretend.
You really are the most extraordinary...
-Honestly, Siegfried, I've... -Anybody would think
I was asking you to do to do an extra duty
instead of doing you the most tremendous favour!
Good Lord! A day at the races? Lashings of free grub and booze?
At your age, I'd have been thrilled of it.
But I am! Really I am!
-You are? -Hmm!
Well, that's all right, then.
I've won! I've won!
-Oh, well done. -Oh, Mr Farnon, you're so clever.
I didn't know you were a betting man, Farnon.
Oh, I'm not really, sir. The occasional flutter.
I do enjoy studying form out of pure interest.
Sensible fellow. And if you followed the form?
I'd not be the bookie's best friend.
(LAUGHING)
Mr Farnon, would you mark my card for the next race?
With great pleasure, Mrs Tremayne.
Do you know, I really rather fancy Calypso.
Third of toast to last week. Would you forgive us, sir?
Thank you kindly.
Ah, when the game is against her,
that is exactly the sort of game that she likes.
The weight's right, too.
Quite nice odds, I fancy.
I'd risk a bob or two.
Oh, but that's too, too exciting!
She's nicely built, isn't she?
(IN IRISH ACCENT) Holy mother!
It's the boy himself!
Stewie! Stewie Brannon!
What the devil are you doing here?
Well, I'm having a day at the races,
like a few others I could mention!
(LAUGHING)
-Let me introduce... -Saints preserve us.
-It's been quite a few years. -It certainly has!
Let me introduce Stewart Brannon, another colleague.
General and Mrs Ransom, Colonel and Mrs Tremayne,
my assistant, James Herriot.
Stewart and I went through veterinary college together.
It's a pleasure, ladies and gentlemen.
I wonder if you could spare him for a moment.
I'm after buying him a drink for old times' sake.
Yes, of course Brannon.
If we're not here, Farnon, we'll be at the car.
That's very good of you, sir. Come on, Stewie.
Well, it takes all sorts.
It certainly does.
Well, what do you think of him, my dear?
No, no, no. I mean Farnon.
Oh, quite entrancing, Hugh.
-And I mean, it's so rare really, isn't it? -What is?
One simply doesn't expect a vet to be a gentleman.
Hmm.
Sit down, Stewie.
What the hell was all that about?
All that frantic Irish.
I was really caught out there. It was your grand friends.
I mean, the moment I started
-I had to go on. I couldn't stop! -(LAUGHING)
Now, listen my lad.
Just you tell me what the hell you've been up to these last...
Well, it's eight years, isn't it? Eight years!
Well, let's see. I got into finals
shortly after you left.
I pipped them both at the first go.
-And... -Thank you, James.
Here's to your very good health, Stewie.
Then I had a bit of bother with surgery.
Cheers. Cheers.
Cheers.
You know,
I was finally launched
on the unsuspecting animal population
and I've been around quite a bit ever since,
trying to find a place with a living wage.
I mean, this three and four quid a week lark
is no cop when you've a family to keep.
Family? Are you married?
Do you remember Meg Hamilton?
-Meg? Ah... -Meg Hamilton.
Well, we got married when I got into... Meg Hamilton!
Yes, yes, of course I do. Yes, go on.
When I got into the final year.
And we've five kids now
and another on the way!
Five! Stewart, for God's sake!
Oh, it's wonderful. Really.
How do you manage to exist?
I couldn't tell you. I don't know myself.
I just keep one jump ahead of ruin.
And... (SIGHS) We're happy.
-No! No! -James, be a good chap.
No, it...
-No, would you mind getting... -James.
The same again, if you don't mind. And anyway...
You seem to have lost a lot of money, my dear.
Well, where is that Mr Farnon?
He promised to mark my card.
He's so good on form.
I'm sure he won't spend more time than necessary with that person.
I'm not so sure, Mrs Ransom. Old comrades, you know.
-I remember when I met... -It's all right, Tremayne. We've no time for that now.
Go off and see if you can find him, will you?
Er, yes, sir.
(SLURRING) And I stuck up my plate in Hensfield.
-Hensfield! -A few months ago.
I know, I know. But as long as it
pays the housekeeping then...
-Now that's mainly small animals, isn't it? -All that matters is...
I make my daily bread
almost entirely
by separating the local tom cats
from their knackers! (LAUGHING)
I bet you're good at it. I'm sure you're very good at it!
The female felines of Hensfield
can walk the streets unmolested.
Thanks to me! (LAUGHS)
My dear.
I wonder if you'd be kind enough
to bring us three very large whiskies.
And then do you think you could keep on repeating the order
every time you see that our glasses are empty?
-Oh, you old bugger, Farnon. -Well.
You haven't changed a bit.
Really? Oh, that's rather nice.
And the funny thing is,
I don't think you even really try.
Try to what?
-What are you talking about? -Oh, nothing. Forget it.
-What the hell are you talking about? -What have you been up to?
-Meg Hamilton! -Yes!
Yes, of course. I'm looking forward to meeting her again
-so very much. -Ah!
I've tried everywhere, sir. There doesn't appear to be a sign of them.
The only place I haven't tried is the Half Crown marquee.
Oh, don't be ridiculous, Tremayne.
(DRUNKEN GIGGLING AND CONVERSATION)
(SLURRING) I'm terribly sorry to have kept you waiting.
-Something rather wonderful happened back there. -(LAUGHING)
Can I present Stewie Brannon who was an old colleague...
All right, Farnon, thank you. We've been through all that.
We've been waiting some considerable time and we want to get home.
Certainly, certainly. We leave at once.
-(LAUGHS) -Stewie, I'll telephone you.
I'll... I'll... Stewie...
-Stewie, old boy. -Hmm.
Find my car keys, will you, old chap?
No, no, no, no, no. No, no, no.
I dropped them
somewhere on the course.
(SIGHS)
Sorry, sir.
I can't see them.
Oh, come on, man. Come on.
-Did you drop them there? -SIEGFRIED: No. This is very disappointing.
Well... They're definitely not on the course.
Great heavens, Farnon, have you got the keys or haven't you?
-Tremayne, you better go and make other arrangements. -Yes, sir.
Did you drop them here?
(STAMMERING) I don't know
where I dropped them but
it was somewhere on the course.
Damned disappointing. They're definitely not on the course.
(CAR STARTS)
Stewie, well done. You've saved the situation.
Come on, get in. I'll drive the blasted thing.
Just one very moment!
The windscreen's very dirty.
Can't allow you to drive in that condition.
-And no more flakes, Mr Pickersgill? -Not a sign, Mr Herriot.
The moment we started using that salve they began dispersing.
Milk's as clear as can be now.
That's great news, I'm delighted.
And how's the lumbago?
That's the other reason I dropped by.
You capped it, lad, and no mistake.
Never milked since that day.
And I've hardly had a twinge these last three weeks.
-I'm truly grateful, Mr Herriot. -Oh, there's no need to be.
It was just a lucky guess.
Hello, Mr Pickersgill. How's the world treating you?
Never better, Mr Farnon. I just dropped by to tell Mr Herriot
he's cured my lumbago and I've cured them mastics.
We had to go back to our Professor Mallison for that, didn't we, lad?
That's right!
Well, I'll be getting along.
-JAMES: Bye, Mr Pickersgill. -Nice to see you, gentlemen.
Always a great pleasure to see you, Mr Pickersgill.
-Goodbye. -Thank you, Mr Herriot.
Bye, Mr Farnon.
(HUMMING)
I see they've appointed Herbert Jarvis
to that job on the northwest circuit.
-Oh? -Yes.
Nice chap. Just the man for the job.
Wouldn't have done, James, you know?
-What wouldn't? -Me getting the job.
I thought you wanted it.
It was a great compliment being considered, of course.
Things always work out for the best. Old Stewie was sent by providence.
If I'd landed it,
I'd have been miserable as hell.
Ah. Well, now, what have you lined up for the rest of the day?
Not a lot. Over to the stables at Hardacre's.
Oh, really? You're fast becoming the horse expert in this practice.
Not really. One of his racers damaged his knee
while he was being loaded into the box.
Well, I stitched him up so I've got to go back
and remove the dressings, see if he's okay.
Perhaps you'd like to have a look at him for me, would you?
Of course I would, but I promised Dick Henley to help him
with a rig operation. Can't let him down now.
Oh, I'm sure you'll do perfectly splendidly.
Right.
(SIEGFRIED HUMMING)
(HORSE NEIGHING)
Right.
You ran enough.
Easy, old fellow.
Easy.
-Do you think he's gonna be all right, sir? -Well, he should be.
There was no damage to the joint capsule or tendon sheaths.
(SIGHS) Thank God for that.
JAMES: Almost done, old boy.
This should see you right.
(HORSE GRUNTS)
Whoa.
You've made a proper job of that, sir.
It looks as good as new. I want to thank you, sir.
-That's all right. -No, I mean it.
He's one of my favourites.
Not just because he's a good horse, but he's kind.
He's gonna be all right.
Look, I've been thinking. Do you back horses?
Hardly ever. Don't know much about it.
Well, never mind. But I'll give you one to back this afternoon.
Kemal in the first race.
He's one of ours and he's going to win.
You'll get a nice price. 10-to-1, at least.
Thanks very much. I'll have half a crown on him.
Half a... Half a crown?
Not likely, mister. You put a fiver on his nose.
By Jove, so I will.
JAMES: Mrs Hall! Mrs Hall!
Oh, there you are.
-Anyone at home? No. Not yet.
Mr Farnon's not back yet and I don't know where Mr Tristan is.
Never mind. Can you fix me an early lunch, please?
-Yeah. Of course. -Thanks.
I've got a red hot tip in the first race at Broughton so I mustn't miss it.
Oh, having a bit of a flutter, are we?
More than a flutter, Mrs Hall. This is a dead certainty.
I've heard them say that before.
Well, they can say it again.
How does that bit go?
"There is a tide in the affairs of men
"which, if taken at the flood..."
Well, I'm taking it Mrs Hall.
Well, I'm not stopping you Mr Herriot.
Fine. Now, I'll scoot down to the bank for a spot of cash,
nip back for a spot of grub, and then hey-ho for Broughton Races.
I can just see Stromboli erupting!
-Are you all right, Mr Herriot? -Never better, Mrs Hall.
-(PHONE RINGS) -Oh!
Shall I take it and say you're not in?
No, thanks, Mrs Hall.
Hello. Yes? Yes, speaking.
Oh! It's Mr Sidlow!
Yes. Yes, of course.
That's all right. I'll be right over.
You can forget about lunch, Mrs Hall.
But you ought to eat, Mr Herriot.
Oh, I wish I could.
If I step on it, I'll just about make the bank
and get the job done in time.
It's these bouts of diarrhoea. They come and go.
She gets thinner all the time.
How long have you been treating her?
A few months or more.
I started her on ground eggshell in the gruel.
It didn't work. I tried stronger remedies.
This last week I've had her on blue vitriol and dandelion tea.
I see.
Well...
Well, I'm fairly sure she's got Johne's disease.
What's that?
Oh, you call it "Jones" disease.
If I'm right, it's incurable.
Still, I'll make quite certain. I'll take a sample of faeces for analysis.
Well, I'd better take her temperature while I'm here.
My God! She swallowed it!
-Swallowed what? -My thermometer!
It's gone right up!
Damn and blast! It's disappeared!
I'll not have foul language in front of my children, Mr Herriot.
Let's have some action instead. Don't just stand there gawping.
A bucket of hot water, soap and a towel, please!
Do as he says! Look sharp or I'll...
I'll let you know as soon as I have the results.
(ENGINE WHIRRING)
I'm terribly sorry. I wonder, erm... If you'll give me a push.
All right, go on. Give him a shove.
(COW MOOING)
JAMES: Tris. Tris!
-In here. -Oh! Thank God.
-Has something happened? -Bookmaker. I have got to have your bookmaker.
Whatever for?
The first race at Broughton. I didn't have time to get there.
-Oh, you're too late anyway. -It's not over, is it?
-I mean, it hasn't been run, has it? -Five minutes ago.
I dropped five bob on Shandygaff.
How do you know? You're just sitting there.
Telephone. It's a wonderful invention.
(SIGHS)
What won?
Well, some confounded animal called Kemal.
Romped home at 12-to-1.
-It was rotten luck, darling. -It was worse than that.
It was the curse of the Sidlows.
Just to think, if I'd got to Broughton five minutes earlier...
But you didn't! It's no good brooding about it.
No, I suppose not. But it did seem like a perfect idea.
Oh, I'm not sure those cruises are all they're cracked up to be.
I had some friends who went on one for their honeymoon.
They wrote it off as a dead loss.
-Why? -Chiefly, the company, I suppose.
They were all cooped up on board with hundreds of noisy, nosy, unattractive people.
You just can't escape.
Well, that's what they told me afterwards.
Oh, well, perhaps it wasn't quite such a perfect idea after all.
Neither's this. It's our third.
(JAMES CHUCKLING)
Listen, I'm not saying it would have been like that with us, darling.
All I am saying is, I don't mind what we do
or where we go for our honeymoon,
just as long as it's the two of us together. That's all that matters to me.
Roll on the day.
I still can't believe it's happening.
Neither can I. It's still a week before the wedding, Helen,
you really ought to keep the beast at bay.
-I don't especially want to. -The luck of some people.
Anyway, where's Mrs Hall? She been sacked?
No. I'm standing in for her.
She's gone to see her sister at Whitton.
So, you'll just have to take pot luck tonight.
Suits me.
Good Lord! Pot luck!
That's a horse called that running in the 3:30 tomorrow!
-James, my boy, you're going to take the plunge. -(LAUGHS)
Put your...
Oh, all right. Point taken.
Oh. (CHUCKLES)
-One for you, James. -Thank you.
Probably another toast rack.
Oh, well. I don't like the look of this.
What is it?
It is tuberculin testing, that's what.
(GRUNTS)
Great Scott!
They want us to start this lot all round Ellithorpe, next week.
"Urgent. Without fail." That's when you're getting married, isn't it?
-Uh, Yes, afraid it is. -Oh! See, that's wonderful.
The practice going mad, a week's testing at the back of beyond
and your wedding smack in the middle of it.
Oh, it'll be all right for you, James.
Drifting gaily off on your honeymoon without a care in the world.
I shall be charging around here practically vanishing up my own back side.
I'm sorry, Siegfried. I had no idea things were going to spring up.
Well, that's your trouble, my boy, isn't it?
You don't look ahead. Just go belting on without a thought.
Let's get on with it and to hell with the consequences...
-Now just a minute! -Which simply defeats me.
What's all the hurry? You're just a boy.
You've all the time in the world to get married.
And that's another thing. You hardly know the girl.
-Oh, hell, Siegfried! -No, James! Let me finish.
Your precipitate marital arrangements
are going to cause me a considerable headache.
Despite that I wish you well.
I sincerely hope everything turns out for the best.
But I must cannot fail to remind you of the old saying,
marry in haste, repent at leisure.
Damn it all, Siegfried! It was your idea!
I was all for leaving it for a bit but you said...
Now, now, James. Don't get excited. Calm yourself.
You're very young. It's my duty to speak my mind.
You haven't done anything wrong.
Simply the improvidence of youth.
Thanks. Now, you listen to me.
We've got no real honeymoon plans.
Ellithorpe's fine. It's beautiful.
Helen and I will stay at the Wheatsheaf and I'll do the testing from there.
Testing? On your honeymoon? My dear boy, you must be out of your mind.
I am not out of my mind.
Well, what would Helen say?
Oh, she'll be delighted. She can help me do the testing.
This is nonsense, absolutely absurd.
You're beginning to make me feel guilty.
Good.
I won't hear of it and that's final.
I'm sorry, Siegfried. My mind is made up.
Now, I'll start the testing at the Allens' farm on Monday,
do the smaller ones round about on Tuesday, get married on Wednesday,
then do the second injections and readings on Thursday and Friday, yes.
We can knock hell out of that list by the end of the week.
What is it?
It's an alarm clock from Aunt Lucy.
Useful.
Very.
(BELLS CHIMING)
JAMES: With this ring I thee wed,
with my body I thee worship
and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.
-Amen. -(BELLS PEAL)
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
(CHEERING)
Bye! Thanks, Tris!
HELEN: Oh! Whoo!
-Bye-bye! Bye-bye! -SIEGFRIED: Bring him back!
HELEN: I will bring him back! JAMES: Bye! Bye!
JAMES: Bye-bye! HELEN: Bye-bye!
JAMES: Oh, I'm glad that's over.
HELEN: Mmm.
JAMES: That's funny. HELEN: What?
JAMES: Siegfried forgot our wedding presents.
HELEN: Oh, never mind.
All right.
(BOTH LAUGHING)
(HUFFS)
You knew, didn't you?
Yes.