Right! Now, come on!
Right, Mr Biggins.
Hup! Hup!
BOTH: Hup! Hup!
Hup! Hup!
Hup, hup, hup!
Hup! Hup!
-BIGGINS: Darn this thing! -Hup! Hup!
Ah, it's no good, Mr Biggins.
Hup! Hup!
Hup! Hup! Hup!
(SCOFFS)
Useless.
That's useless!
Well, don't just stand there!
Go and catch him!
Veterinary's not got all day!
Go on! Be sharp about it!
(SCOFFS)
Whew!
Absolutely useless.
You know what his trouble is, don't you?
Why he couldn't hold that beast?
Well, I don't suppose they're the easiest
things to handle, Mr Biggins.
I mean, a young, strong calf like that?
That's got naught to do with it.
It's his wild ways.
His wild ways.
-Why? -Really?
They're getting hold of him, the bright lights.
Bright lights.
Oh, thank you.
He's crazed with the bright lights!
They're crazed.
Which bright lights would they be, Mr Biggins?
Other side of valley there.
Briston.
He goes there every night.
-Never away. -Never away.
You know, I never thought of Briston
as being one of the...
Well, a fleshpot, Mr Biggins.
I mean, it's hardly more than one street, really, is it?
Oh, I know all about that. But there's a pub there isn't there?
Dent's wife's bar.
-That's where he goes. -Never away.
Oh, I see, he tends to get drunk, does he?
-Drinks like a fish. -Fish.
-Really? -Aye.
He's there while all hours.
-All hours. -Is that so?
Aye. Then he can't get off bed in morning.
Do you know, it was six o'clock today
before I could get him out in that pasture!
Six o'clock!
(EXHALES)
Good heavens!
The surgery, David.
Helen, what on earth are you doing here this time of day?
Oh, Mr Debdon doesn't need me till after lunch.
I thought I'd start on some of these bills.
Oh, well done. You're a brick.
Now then, David Woodley, this is Helen, my partner James' wife,
the one who tries to bring a certain measure of order to the chaos of our lives,
that is when she's not working her fingers to the bone across the road at a mill.
-Well, I don't know about that. How do you do? -Hello.
Oh, this is my brother Tristan, the one usually responsible for the chaos.
Lies, all lies.
-David Woodley. -How do you do?
David is thinking of taking up
veterinary work himself one of these days.
Oh, dear. Really?
So he's going to be staying with us,
following us around, generally finding out
what a country practice is all about.
I think, little brother, to start with,
we'll entrust him to your tender mercies.
Ah, starting at the top, eh?
You won't necessarily learn very much, David,
but I think I can promise you it will be...
-An experience. -Thank you kindly.
-Now, Tristan, who's first? -(PHONE RINGS)
I'll go.
David, see who's first, would you?
(PHONE RINGS)
Hello, Skeldale House.
Oh, hello, Mrs Pumphrey.
No, I'm afraid he's not in at the moment. Can I help?
Oh, I see.
(CLEARS THROAT)
TRISTAN: Hello, Mrs Cartwright.
Hello there, Mrs Cartwright. What's the trouble?
Well, it's his ears, Mr Farnon.
He'll not stop scratching them.
-That's not Seamus, is it? -Yes.
He must be 17, 18 years old. Good lord.
-He is that. -He scratches, eh?
-Yes. -Let's have a look.
Well, no wonder. Yes...
Hold on to him, will you?
That's it.
Look at that, David.
See all those...
-Tiny little black specks? -Uh-huh.
Those are ear mites.
See?
Have look at that. Let's have the ear wash, Tristan,
like a good fellow, please?
But what exactly is the problem, Mrs Pumphrey?
Two drops each ear once a week,
and repeat the treatment at least three times.
-Oh, thank you. -Right, Mrs Cartwright.
There you go, Mrs Cartwright.
Yes, thank you very much, Mr Farnon.
-(KNOCK AT DOOR) -Come in!
-Good morning. -Ah, Mrs Hall, bless your heart.
-I wanted a word with you, actually. -Aye, Mr Farnon?
To tell you we shall be six to luncheon today.
Mr Barge is coming to call.
Oh, right, Mr Farnon.
That should guarantee us a first class lunch, at least.
Now there's somebody it's going to be worth your while to meet.
-Is he a vet too, Mr Farnon? -(CLICKS TONGUE)
He's a travelling salesman, actually.
Mrs Hall thinks he's the best thing since Ramon Novarro.
-A travelling salesman? -Well, isn't he?
Mr Aloysius Barge, of Messrs Cargill and sons,
manufacturers of fine chemicals since 1850,
a travelling salesman? Oh, my dear boy,
he is a representative. None of your commoner garden reps either,
but a representative.
It's the same thing, isn't it?
If you're not intuitively aware of the vast difference between those two states,
then nothing I or anybody else can say will help you.
I mean you might as well try explaining the difference
between Chateau Lafite and a jug of red biddy to a fishwife.
Right, who's next?
But...you still haven't told me
what the trouble is, Mrs Pumphrey.
I'm sorry, my dear, I'm afraid that is something
I couldn't possibly go into on the public telephone system.
And certainly not in front of Tricki-Woo.
No. If you will ask your husband to call on me
at his very earliest convenience...
Thank you, my dear.
Goodbye.
Oh, Tricki, Tricki...
Why me?
-Is that Tricki-Woo, Helen? -I don't know.
-Didn't she say? -She wouldn't.
-What did she want? -She wouldn't say that either.
The only one she's prepared to talk to about it is James,
and she wants to see him right away.
Well, I suggest as soon as James gets back,
we get him hotfooting over there.
After all, Christmas isn't that far away.
Christmas?
Well, you must admit the jolly, festive season
wouldn't be half so jolly or festive
without one of Tricki-Woo's votes of thanks from Fortnum & Mason's.
Sure, Tristan, I'm beginning to believe,
with the exception of the occasional nurse and the odd barmaid,
you never seriously concern yourself
with anything but food and booze.
Oh, come on now, Siegfried. I seem to remember you being pretty alarmed yourself
at the prospect of a hamperless Christmas not all that long ago.
-Me? -The last Darrowby show,
when you felt it necessary to have a certain word
in a certain judge's ear, who shall remain nameless,
just in case a certain dog lost?
-Got your list, have you? -Yeah.
Get on with it, and take David with you.
Come on then, little bitch.
Oh, by the way that doesn't mean an immediate introduction
to the dubious delights of the drover's arms.
I want him back sharp at 1:00 to meet Mr Barge.
Do I make myself totally clear?
Yes.
Good. Come on, little girl.
Come on, little girl, come on.
Nearly opening time.
Well, what on earth can it be, I wonder?
Well, whatever it was, James, she certainly wasn't going to tell me.
Are we expecting Mr Chamberlain to lunch?
-Getting warm. -Oh?
-Mr Barge. -Ah.
Ah, there you are, James.
Ah, did you get a message from Mrs Pumphrey?
-Yes, thanks. -Well, I'll tell you what,
why don't you pop out there straightaway?
After all, she's an old and valued client.
And Christmas is less than a year away.
Hmm?
What on earth has Christmas got to do with it?
(CHUCKLES)
-You all right? -Yes.
If I can get last month's bills done before I go to work,
I can start on the new stuff this evening.
You sure all this isn't a bit much for you?
We need that wage packet James.
Yes.
-I'll see you later. -Bye.
Oh.
(SHUSHING)
SIEGFRIED: Good man, James, are you on your way?
Helen, have you got a moment?
Yes, of course.
-Stop it. -Those blessed bills...
Are they going to take you terribly long, you think?
Well, I'm afraid I can't finish them all this morning, Siegfried.
Oh, just that... Just that they are piling up a bit.
Well, I'll try and get this lot done now,
and I'll start on the other stuff when I come home tonight.
Right.
You're a corker. Don't know what we'd do without you.
Now then...
Siegfried, do you know Ned Finch?
Ned Finch... Little fella, a bit colourless,
put him in a small crowd, he'll disappear before your very eyes?
-Yes, works for Biggins over at what-cha-call. -That's him.
Yes, they took him on more or less straight from the orphanage
donkey's years ago. Sort of a general dogsbody.
-Dogsbody's the word. -Oh, yeah?
I was up there this morning injecting that calf.
Biggins spent the entire morning bawling at him.
Well, well, Biggins' bark's worse than his bite.
Anyhow, you can't blame him all that much. I mean Little Ned's all right,
but he hardly blazes across the firmament like a meteor.
-Hmm? Well, I wonder. -Really?
According to Biggins, little Ned's a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde.
-Ned is? -Apparently.
Every night after work, it's down to Briston, paint the town red.
That can't be easy. In Briston?
No.
Oh, Mr Herriot, you will be back in time for lunch, won't you?
Well, I hope so, Mrs Hall.
You've heard Mr Barge is coming?
Yes, I had heard something about it.
(DOOR CLOSING)
One for mummy and one for Tricki.
There you are, my darling.
Good boy.
Thank you. Hello, Mrs Pumphrey.
Mr Herriot,
how good of you to call so promptly.
No, not at all. It's Tricki, is it?
Oh, good heavens, no.
We've never had anything of that kind with Tricki.
-He's far too well-bred. -(CHUCKLES)
No, no, no. It's... Cedric, actually.
Cedric?
-My new boxer. -Ah!
I bought him when Bonzo died, you know.
Bonzo, Mrs Pumphrey?
Bonzo Fotheringham.
Tricki's dear, dear pen friend.
The lonely Dalmatian.
-Oh, that Bonzo! -Yes.
He's passed on, you know.
-Oh, dear, really? -Tricki was heartbroken,
so I bought Cedric for him, as a consolation.
Of course Tricki's always been passionately attracted to boxers.
Yes.
Anyway, what exactly is wrong with, um,
Cedric, Mrs Pumphrey?
Well...
Why don't I introduce you to him?
He's outside in the garden.
We do try to keep him outside as much as possible,
in the circumstances.
Well...
This is Cedric.
He is beautiful, Mrs Pumphrey.
Oh, yes, he's certainly that.
And in very good shape.
MRS PUMPHREY: Well...
Well, he appears to be suffering
from a certain amount of, uh...
Flatus.
I beg your pardon?
He seem to be suffering from a certain amount of flatus.
Indigestion, you mean?
Oh, no, not indigestion as such,
although I suppose that could be a factor.
Windiness, Mr Herriot.
(HODGEKIN CHUCKLES)
Oh, I see!
Something is amusing you, Hodgekin?
No, ma'am.
You just cackled. I distinctly heard you.
Well, it's 'cause I'm happy, ma'am...
-In me work. -Must you hoe here?
No, ma'am.
Well, kindly hoe elsewhere!
Mrs Pumphrey, this, um,
excessive flatus,
how often does it occur?
Whenever he gets excited, which is nearly all the time.
In fact, if I'm not mistaken...
Yes. Well, um...
Mrs Pumphrey, why don't we go indoors and discuss his diet?
-All right? -Right.
Good dog. Good dog.
(HODGEKIN CHUCKLES)
Hodgekin?
Yes, ma'am?
You will find Cedric's lead in the potting shed.
You may take him for his walk round the garden.
Yes, ma'am.
Another spot of coffee, Mr Barge?
No, thank you, dear lady.
Well then, perhaps another sliver of the Wensleydale?
My dear Mrs Hall, painful though I find it
to refuse you anything,
were I to eat one more morsel of your delicious food,
I would most certainly burst with a resounding bang.
(ALL LAUGHING)
May I complement you yet again
on your most extraordinary gravy?
Well, it's only a bit of gravy, Mr Barge.
Will you listen to the lady?
My dear Mrs Hall, there is gravy,
and there is gravy,
and then again there is your gravy.
Oh, give over, Mr Barge.
Some secret family recipe, is it?
Handed down from generation to generation
among the womenfolk of your family?
It's only a bit of flour and dripping, Mr Barge.
With one or two secret ingredients, eh,
known only to yourself?
Well...
Now then, a drop of Brandy to finish off with, Mr Barge?
-What a very civilised idea. -Thank you.
I'll have the same.
-Helen? -No, thank you.
The perfect end to an hour of epicurean delight.
Your very good health, Mr Barge.
-And yours, Mr Farnon. -None for you, my boy.
Tristan.
(SIGHS)
So now, Mr Barge...
What new wonder have you for us this time
from the laboratories of Messrs Cargill and sons?
My dear Mr Farnon,
as our friends from across the Atlantic
are wont to put it in their own bizarre vocabulary,
do I have something to show you this time.
(SIEGFRIED CHUCKLES)
(SIGHS)
Ah, there it is.
What is it, Siegfried?
It's something by courtesy of the admirable Mr Barge,
James, which is going to make your life and mine
a great deal easier in the future.
It's a new sedative from Messrs Cargill and sons,
available in both liquid and tablet form.
-"Soothitt." -What?
-You're familiar with it then? -Yes.
George MacGregor mentioned it when I was over at his dispensary the other day.
-Barge sold him some as well. -Marvellous stuff, eh?
Well, actually Siegfried, George couldn't see
that it was any real improvement
on the sedatives already on the market.
George MacGregor's a competent enough vet in his way I suppose,
but not to put too fine a point upon it,
he's a bit of an old stick in the mud, isn't he?
I mean, honestly, George MacGregor wouldn't think that
penicillin was any kind of improvement.
If you say so, Siegfried.
See, David, one of the most important things in our profession
is to have an open mind and a modern, progressive outlook.
-Oh yes, Mr Farnon? -New drugs come in all the time.
During the next 10 years, science is going to transform our whole attitude
to our calling, you mark my words.
Now then, Tristan, pile all these
neatly and properly on the shelves, if you would.
Oh, George MacGregor! My God. Ha, ha!
(JAMES LAUGHING)
David, could you pile those all
neatly and properly on the shelves, please? Thank you.
You know, James, you really are going to have to get a more progressive outlook.
How's your flatulating boxer by the way?
Still wasting his sweetness on the desert air up at Mrs Pumphrey's?
Yes, apparently. She's asked me to pop up again this afternoon.
Oh, good.
-What? -We'll go with you.
Why? It's not exactly the most congenial of assignments, you know.
A flatulating dog.
Well, you know James. As long as young David is here with us,
I think the least we can do is expose him to whatever veterinary experience
happens to be going, don't you?
(BELL RINGS)
Oh! Hello, Mr Beresford.
Good day. I should like to speak to Mr Farnon, please,
on a matter of some urgency.
-Senior or junior? -Senior, of course!
Oh, won't you come in for a moment?
-Thank you. -I'll see if he's free.
-Siegfried? -Yes, Helen?
Have you a minute?
Three shillings... I'm up to my eyes in it.
Couldn't one of the others deal with it?
It's Mr Beresford.
Mr Beresford from the bank? Why didn't you say something?
The golden rule, never keep my bank manager waiting,
in the hope he may return the compliment one day.
While we're on the subject of matters financial...
I still haven't finished those bills, Siegfried.
I'm sorry, I just don't seem to have had a minute.
I just thought I'd mention it.
Ah, Mr Beresford!
-Mr Farnon. -What can I do for you?
It's my wife's dog, Mr Farnon.
He's still behaving peculiarly.
Oh, dear. Didn't those pills do anything for him?
No. He continues to howl.
At anything particular? The moon, say?
I told you. The car.
Every time we get into the car, he howls.
Deafeningly.
Well, come in, come in here, Mr Beresford.
Do please sit down. Make yourself comfortable.
Thank you.
Pardon my mess there. I'll take your hat.
To all intents and purposes,
a perfectly normal dog,
entirely obedient,
but the moment one starts the car,
that awful, banshee wailing.
Now, I've been offered this new job, you see,
an important new post.
-Congratulations. -In Portsmouth.
-Oh, ho! -It's over 300 miles to Portsmouth.
My wife and I intend to drive there with him.
Could you imagine it, Mr Farnon?
Over 300 Miles of that? (SCOFFS)
We'd probably be arrested for disturbing the peace.
(LAUGHING) My dear Mr Beresford!
Ah, do you know, I may just have the thing for it.
The very thing.
Yes.
There we are.
Soothitt, Mr Beresford.
The very latest thing.
Now, you just give him two of these
half an hour before you set sail for Portsmouth.
And I guarantee you won't get a peep out of him
for the whole journey. There you are.
I'm grateful, Mr Farnon. Deeply grateful.
-Not at all. -Thank you.
(CLEARS THROAT)
That's a florin, if you please, Mr Beresford.
-Two shillings? -I do realise it's expensive,
but those tablets are infallible.
Oh! Thank you. And if you're ever down Portsmouth way...
Especially if I need anything in the way of a small loan, huh?
Good day.
Mr Beresford.
(SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)
I'll join you in a minute.
Mr Herriot, I'm so glad you're here.
He's round at the back,
-safe with Mr Fenton in the potting shed. -Ah.
Well, it seemed the most appropriate place.
I'm having my annual coffee morning, you see,
-with the R.S.P.C.A. -Oh, yes.
Well, I'm sure you'll forgive me if I don't join you.
I'm sure you know the way.
Yes. Yes, of course.
-Who's a good doggy? -Could we all try not to get him too excited?
I suspect it's a bit too late for that, actually, James.
Speak on, sweet lips that never told a lie.
Pack it in, you two.
Pedigree, that one, eh, Mr Herriot?
At least as long as your arm, Con.
By gow, that's what you call a dog there.
JAMES: Oh, yes.
TRISTAN: A dog that would stand out in any crowd, that one, Mr Fenton.
What wouldn't I give to own a dog like that?
Well, at least there's nothing else wrong with him.
He's in the peak of condition.
-Rude with health, you might say! -(BOTH LAUGHING)
I think I might try him with some sort of absorbent.
I think we might all try and move downwind, actually.
David, there is a brown paper bag on the back seat of the car.
Nip out and get it for me, will you?
-Right. -Thank you.
-Here, try one of these. -I don't smoke!
I thought it might help.
Oh, yes. Good idea.
(SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)
Oh, Colonel Buller, you do know my friend...
Yes, indeed, yes. We met at the last point-to-point.
She plays the organ most beautifully.
Does she? That I didn't know.
Indeed, I enjoyed meeting her.
Oh, yes. How nice.
JAMES: Cedric!
Good doggy, Cedric!
Good dog, Cedric!
(WHISTLES)
-Doggy! -JAMES: Cedric?
-Cedric! Come on! -Where are you, Cedric?
-(WHISTLES) -Good doggy! Good doggy!
Where are you, doggy?
Come on, Cedric! Come, boy!
Cedric?
Come on, Cedric!
Come on, Cedric, come on! (WHISTLES)
Good dog. Cedric!
-Where are you, doggy? -(JAMES WHISTLES)
-JAMES: Cedric! -Cedric, doggy!
BOTH: Come on, Cedric!
(HUSHED CONVERSATION)
My dear Mrs Tamworth-Brown,
now, now, do have some chocolate walnut cake.
I had it brought over specially from Harrogate.
Oh! So kind.
Oh, yes. Yes, go and get it.
(HUSHED CONVERSATION)
COLONEL: Oh, good gracious me, no.
No, what... Curry, curry. Now, that's the stuff.
Practically lived off it when I was over there, I can tell you.
-Really? -Hmm, mind you, they know how to make a curry.
-Yes? -Only question of the meat, how you cook it.
It's got to be cooked right, you see.
You pop it into the pan...
Where are you, Cedric?
Cedric!
Cedric. Good doggy.
Come on, Cedric. Where are you, doggy?
Cedric?
Cedric. Come on, Cedric!
-JAMES: Cedric. Come on, Cedric! -Come on Cedric.
-(WHISTLES) -Where are you, doggy?
-(WHISTLES) -Come on, Cedric.
-Cedric! -Come on, Cedric.
Cedric!
MAN: Good God!
Oh! Oh, what the devil's happened here?
Oh! Oh, good gracious me!
-Excuse me. Come on. -Oh, Cedric.
Come along. Good doggy. It's all right. Come along.
But this is no surprise, James.
I've known Briston all my life.
Come on.
You prepare yourself for scenes of wild abandon.
(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION)
(DOOR CLOSING)
-Hello, Mr Herriot! -Hello.
Not often we see you around here.
No. This is my wife Helen.
-How do you do? -Pleased to meet you.
JAMES: How's the cat?
Oh, doing nicely now, thank you. What can I get you?
Oh, two halves of bitter, yes?
-Right! -Please. Thank you.
By himself by the fireplace.
HELEN: Who is it? JAMES: The Ned Finch.
-The Ned Finch? -Playboy.
(CHUCKLES) Playboy?
BOTH: Thank you.
And another.
How's that?
-Fourpence, right? -Oh, lovely. Thank you Mr Harriot.
Thank you.
-Cheers, darling. -Cheers.
Come on.
Evening, Ned.
Oh! Good evening, veterinary.
-Evening. -Evening, Mr Finch.
This is your local, is it?
Aye. Great little drop of ale, is that, Mr Herriot.
-Oh, yes. -Straight from the wood, eh?
-Brought up in jugs from the cellar. -JAMES: Mmm.
Aye, she knows how to look after her ale, all right, Miss Marion.
Can I get you one then?
Oh, no, no more for me, thank you, Mr Herriot, no.
-It's my second, is this. -Ah.
That's all he ever has, the two.
Anyroad, I'd best be getting back, I reckon.
Oh, aye, it's nearly half past 8:00!
Mr Biggins will think I got lost or something!
-Anyroad, I'll see thee some more, Mr Herriot? -Right, Ned.
-Good night. -Good night.
I'll be off then, Marion, love.
-Right. -See you tomorrow.
-Right. -Good night.
Sleep tight.
BOTH: Make sure bugs don't bite.
(BOTH LAUGHING)
-Playboy? -Notorious.
You know, James,
I feel a bit guilty just sitting here, supping beer.
Why?
I promised Siegfried I'd finish those bills.
Come on darling, you're entitled to some spare time.
I honestly think I'll have to give that job up.
Out of a sort of kindness to Siegfried.
Well, the money is welcome isn't it?
I know, but everything's getting neglected at Skeldale House.
Oh, I do love the job, but...
I don't know.
Well, it's up to you, love.
BIGGINS: She's been like that for hours.
I can't shift her.
If you ask me, she's...
She's paralysed or something.
Oh, so you've got up at last, have you?
Aye. Morning, Mr Biggins.
Well, there doesn't seem to be anything physically wrong with her Mr Biggins.
If you ask me, she's just sulking.
Sulking? What the hell's she got to sulk about?
Well, as you can see, she's got her head's stuck through the partition,
she obviously tried to get up a few times and failed,
now she just doesn't want to bother.
She always were a stupid bitch.
Have you got any rope handy?
Hey, city lad.
Now limp in next door and fetch that long piece of rope
that hangs up and look sharp about it!
Ooh.
(SCOFFS)
You can see where he were while all hours at night,
can't you, eh?
Oh, eyes sticking out like chapel hat pegs.
Ah, Briston again, was it, Mr Biggins?
Aye. Dent's bar.
Well, I'm sure the odd glass of beer
never did anyone any harm, Mr Biggins.
Aye, but it's not only the beer in his case.
It's the other as well.
The other?
The other.
None else.
Oh!
BIGGINS: No, no, no, no!
Not the short piece,
the long piece, I said, didn't I?
BIGGINS: Go on, hurry up and find the thing.
Oof! It's pitiful, isn't it?
-Her name's Marion. -Oh, yes?
Aye, the barmaid.
Of course. She works behind the bar.
I've naught but been in there once, but I can tell
by the way he keeps on looking at her.
Still waters, Mr Herriot.
Still waters.
That's it, Ned. Splendid.
If you could just lash the rope round the horns, Hmm?
And while you're pulling, I can ease her through from this side.
That's good.
BIGGINS: Neddie... (SIGHS)
Come on, throw him this end and give me that.
I'll pull on that. You couldn't pull the skin off a rice pudding.
(GRUNTS)
(YELLS)
You all right, Mr Biggins?
All right?
Do I look as if I'm all right?
There we are.
Ah, we seem to have done trick without any rope, Mr Biggins.
We? We?
Afternoon, Mr Herriot.
Hello, Con. You working here permanently now?
Just standing in for a couple of days
while Mr Hodgekin gets over his cold.
Do help yourself to a biscuit.
Oh, thank you.
Uh, your very good health.
Cheers, Mrs Pumphrey.
Cheers.
Now, what are we to do about Cedric?
Frankly, Mrs Pumphrey, there isn't anything that we can do.
The fact of the matter is Cedric simply isn't the dog for you.
You're going to have to get rid of him.
Have him put down? I couldn't possibly do such a dreadful thing.
Tricki would never forgive me.
And in any case,
I'm really rather fond of Cedric.
Despite his...
Well, in spite of everything.
Mrs Pumphrey, I really wasn't suggesting anything quite so drastic.
But, well, you could always give him to somebody.
How could I?
I mean, who on earth would want a dog that
flatulates all over the place?
Well...
Yes, quite.
They're beautiful blooms, Con.
Better than ever this year Mr Herriot.
Mrs Pumphrey will about sweep the board of silver at the show, I reckon.
As usual.
-Ah. -(JAMES CHUCKLES)
See...
Take one home for Mrs Herriot.
Oh, thanks, Con.
-Lovely perfume. -I'll take your word for it.
-Wasted on me, though. -Really?
See, when I were a lad, I had a lot of trouble with me adenoids.
-Oh, yes? -So I had the operation.
But something went wrong.
You can't smell at all?
Never smelled a thing, me, Mr Herriot. Not in 30 years.
And you live alone?
Oh, aye. There's only me.
Con...
What's the matter with the pig, Mr Dent?
Oh, sow.
Oh, I see. All right, I'll be straight over. Goodbye.
God!
That was Dent, the pig man, on the telephone.
That big old sow of his, what's he call her, Queenie, started farrowing,
and she's attacking the piglets as they arrive.
-Her own piglets, Mr Farnon? -What?
Yes, that does happen sometimes.
She'll kill and eat the lot if she gets half a chance.
Is there anything you can do about it?
Oh yes, you can sedate them.
You better come along and have a look.
Ah, that's what we need.
A touch of Mr Barge's balm.
James doesn't seem to think much of it actually, Siegfried.
Tristan, you know quite well
that I'm very, very fond of James,
and I have the highest regard for him as a veterinary surgeon.
But he does have one weakness is a certain reluctance to try out anything new.
You know, I've nothing really on this afternoon.
Would you like me to go and have a look at the sow?
You know, I wonder if your eagerness to volunteer has anything to do
with the fact that Mr Dent, apart from being the Dale's leading pig fancier,
is also the landlord of the Red Lion at Briston,
a hostelry which is well-known for selling the best bitter
at any hour of the day or night, regardless of licensing laws?
Never so much as crossed my mind.
No, of course it didn't.
I thank you very kindly, but I shall attend to this one myself.
You can mind the shop. Come along, young fella, my lad!
Come on.
By the way, Tristan, if you can find something
more creative to do with your time than...
Whatever it is you're doing, I shall be mightily obliged.
You see what I mean, Mr Farnon?
Every time a piglet pops out,
she's after it.
Like a dog with a rat.
(PIG SQUEALING)
Well, that shouldn't present any problems, Mr Dent.
You know, "Inject the animal with 10 CCS intramuscularly...
"And the sow will accept the piglet within 20 minutes."
Aye, yeah?
You'll know my father, Mr Farnon.
How are you, Mr Dent?
Not much my father don't know about pigs, you know.
He were brought up with pigs.
YOUNG DENT: I say, you've been brought up with pigs, haven't you Father?
-Hmm. -A-ha!
Here.
Let's get on with it, shall we?
(PIG SQUEALING)
Yeah, we'll just let that little lot
percolate through her system for a while, and then...
We reintroduce her to her brood.
Eighty-five next birthday, you know, Mr Farnon.
(PIG SQUEALING)
Spot of liquid refreshment,
while we're waiting?
Why not?
DENT: Fetch us a pint, Marion.
Ah! Hello, Mr Farnon.
Good morning, Marion.
Same for you, is it, Mr Farnon?
That'd be lovely. You got a good one on this weekend?
It's always a good pint here. (LAUGHING)
And a cider for the lad, is it?
Why not?
What do you think of pigs then, young man?
-Very interesting. -What?
I could write you a book. Of course, Mr Farnon here,
he's always had a way with pigs, you know.
-Haven't you Mr Farnon? -Do you really think so, Mr Dent?
Oh, aye.
Hey, there's no fooling a pig, you know.
If I've said it once across this bar,
I've said it 100 times.
When a pig looks at Siegfried Farnon,
he recognises a kindred spirit.
Yes, well, your very good health, Mr Dent.
(PIG SQUEALING)
She don't look all that sleepy to me, Mr Farnon.
Yes, it's not supposed to be a sleeping draught Mr Dent.
It's just, uh...
A sedative.
All right.
Hand me a piglet, if you'd be so kind.
Let me see what we can do.
(HUMS)
(PIG SQUEALS)
Dent!
(PIGLET SQUEALS)
Need any idea there, veterinary?
(PIG SQUEALS)
Of course, I reckon I could fettle her.
Oh, really?
And just how do you suppose you could fettle her?
All that pig needs is quietening.
And just what do you suppose we've been trying to do for the past hour?
Isn't working, though, is it?
That sedative I've given her is the very best there is!
Sedatives!
Can you make a better suggestion?
Wonderful for his age, though, isn't he?
(PIG BURPS)
Well, whatever it was, she liked it.
Now try her.
Ah, what on earth was it, Mr Dent?
Best sedative there is.
Two gallon of best Yorkshire bitter.
Right.
That's the lot, Mr Biggins.
Ah, right.
Well, how are things with you, Mr Biggins?
Oh, all right.
You've heard about him, I suppose.
Who's that?
Ned Finch. (SCOFFS)
I said it'd catch up with him and it has.
What's happened to him now?
What's happened to him?
He's only getting married, that's all,
to that woman from the pub.
Ah! That's marvellous, Mr Biggins!
Marvellous?
Marvellous? What's marvellous about getting married?
He must've gone soft in the bloody head, if you ask me.
-Hello, Ned. -Oh. Hello, Mr Herriot.
Just heard your news. Congratulations.
-Ah, thank you. -When's the happy day?
Oh, a few weeks.
You'll be moving into the pub, will you?
That's right.
Of course I've been very happy up here, you know.
Oh they've been very good to me, Mr and Mrs Biggins.
But I got to thinking, you see.
"Ned," I said,
"you've had your fling, lad.
"It's time you got settled down."
That's Briston down there, isn't it?
That's it.
FINCH: You know, when I were a lad
and first come to living up here, Mr Herriot,
I'd come out here every night,
and I'd spend hours just gazing across them fields at the lights,
twinkling at me up the valley.
The bright lights of Briston, eh, Ned?
That's right.
You see, it's this way with me, Mr Herriot.
I'm sure the world's full of wonderful places,
and good luck to them as goes to see them,
but just give me that parlour down at Mr Dent's,
with Marion behind bar,
and the dominos clicking
and them logs roaring up chimney,
and you can keep all your Monte Carlos.
Just hope it doesn't all get blown away, that's all,
by what's coming.
Hey! City!
Are you coming to muck them cows out or aren't you?
Oh, I am coming, Mr Biggins!
Well, come on, make haste and get on with it then!
Hey, but I'll miss working for Mr Biggins, though. (LAUGHING)
We've had a few laughs, we have. On the quiet. (LAUGHING)
SIEGFRIED: Come on, David, I say we owe
ourselves a glass of beer after all that.
Of course, it's obvious what really happened
that sedative simply took a little bit longer to work than it should've done.
Oh, great scot.
How tough it is. Don't tell me those bills haven't gone out yet!
Why, oh why, oh why
did Helen ever have to take that wretched job?
Ah, Siegfried, visitor for you.
-Oh, you deal with it. -I'm afraid I can't.
He refuses to speak to anyone else.
-Why? Who is it then? -It's Mr Beresford.
Beresford the...
Ah, Mr Beresford. Mrs Beresford.
-Mr Farnon. -I thought you'd be halfway to Portsmouth by now.
We should've been.
We turned back at Kendall.
My wife just couldn't stand any more of it.
It was a nightmare.
An absolute nightmare!
-That, that dog, you mean? -Howled. Like a wolf.
I thought I should go mad.
But did you give it the pills as I told you?
Oh, yes. Two tablets,
then a further two, and then another two. Nothing.
No. If anything, it went worse.
We're just going to have to think of something else, aren't we?
Don't bother. We've already got something.
Yes, from Mr MacGregor of Houlton.
Oh, you have.
There'll be a refund, I presume?
-Naturally. Of course. -Two shillings.
Yes, I, I do recall.
Thank you. Come along, Margaret.
-Thank you, Mr Farnon. -Sorry.
-Ah, just one further point, Mr Farnon. -Yes, Mr Beresford.
I suppose you do realise that at the moment,
you're overdrawn on your current account.
I understand there's a letter being forwarded to you
on the subject. Good day.
-Yeah, that... -(DOOR CLOSING)
Right!
What's going on?
I'll tell you what's going on, James.
The worm is about to turn.
Enough is enough.
Hello, Mrs Green? Will you get me Beasley-343, please?
-Do you know what my problem is, James? -No. What?
My problem is that I have too trusting a nature, too generous a disposition.
Mr Barge?
Oh. Well, would you telephone him at home, please?
And say that Mr Siegfried Farnon telephoned him and would like to see him
as soon as may be possibly convenient.
Right. Thank you very much.
The plain fact of the matter is that Mr Aloysius Barge is a common quack.
He comes here, eating my good food,
drinking my best brandy...
And then he has the gall to land me
with a consignment of a so-called sedative
that wouldn't frankly knock out a cockroach!
Do you realise that less than an hour ago
I nearly had my leg bitten off by a pig
because I put absolute faith that this stuff? Oh, that's enough!
Mr Barge can take the whole damned lot back
and be cordially told he can peddle his quack medicine elsewhere!
(DOOR CLOSING)
What the hell is the matter with Mrs Hall?
Well, I'd have thought that was obvious, Siegfried.
She overheard what you were saying about Mr Barge!
-So? -Well, she's really fond of the old boy.
She's not going to like it if you drag him down
here and tear a strip off him.
Do you think that's going to alter my decision?
All I'm saying is, I wouldn't like to upset her, that's all.
If I choose in my own house to tell
Mr Barge what I think about him,
I shall tell him, whether Mrs Hall likes it or not!
Sorry, Helen, my dear.
What time is he due to arrive?
Hmm? Any minute now.
-Oh. -Right. Off you go, David.
They're ready for posting.
For goodness sake, Tristan,
-go and find something useful to do. -(DOOR KNOCKING)
Come in.
Excuse me, Mr Farnon, how many will there be for lunch?
There will be five for lunch, Mrs Hall, as usual.
I thought perhaps Mr Barge might be coming.
Just the five of us, Mrs Hall.
Right.
As far as I can see this entire household
is falling apart in front of our very eyes!
Mrs Hall's marching about slamming doors,
the office work's in chaos,
I'm in the red at the bank,
hardly a bill's gone out since Helen took that blessed job.
She simply hasn't got the time Siegfried. With the full-time job...
I just wish she wasn't doing a full-time job that's all.
-They need the money. -Yes, I know.
Oh, hell.
Of course, if someone was to make it worth her while to go part-time...
-(BELL RINGS) -I'll go.
-(DOOR OPENS) -(DOOR CLOSING)
Oh, Mr Barge. Do come in.
-Thank you. -Um, Siegfried's in the living room.
I'll just show you through.
Thank you. Most kind.
Siegfried, Mr Barge to see you.
-Right! -My dear Mr Farnon.
My dear Mr Barge...
What on earth's happened to you?
Oh, it's nothing really.
Just a broken elbow.
Afraid I slipped coming downstairs.
Not quite as steady on my pins as I used to be.
But, Mr Barge, that's terrible!
Do please sit down.
Oh, thank you.
You... Shouldn't you be at home resting?
Well, actually, I was at home
when you telephoned the office,
but when they sent your message on to me, it sounded so urgent,
and I thought I could at least make the effort -and come over at once.
Oh! You shouldn't have done.
Well, they did say it was rather urgent.
Well, it wasn't really all that urgent.
Mr Barge, in fact, not really urgent at all.
Tristan, will you ask Mrs Hall to look in for a moment?
Glass of sherry, Mr Barge?
Oh! That's most kind, or...
Perhaps a glass of brandy,
if you have such a thing in the house.
Now, what seems to be the problem, Mr Farnon?
(DOOR KNOCKING)
SIEGFRIED: Come in.
Oh, Mr Barge! Whatever has happened to you?
A little accident, dear lady. Clipped a bit of a wing, that's all.
Afraid the old bones tend to get a bit brittle at my time of life.
But you ought to be home in bed.
Fancy dragging all the way over here with an arm like that!
You wanted me, Mr Farnon?
Yes, Mrs Hall just to remind you we shall be six for lunch.
Of course.
To your very good health and a speedy end to your discomfort.
That should soothe it...
Now, what can we do for you, Mr Farnon?
Actually, it's just one or two things
I forgot to order, Mr Barge,
actually, last time you were here, they went
clean out of my head.
James?
-Hello, darling. -It's all arranged. Debdon's agreed.
Two mornings, one afternoon, and I still get a pound.
Oh, well done! Still it will mean £1 less in our piggy bank.
SIEGFRIED: Oh, no it won't! Now you listen to me, you two.
I'm not going to have you throwing good money away
just because you've got to save our bacon.
What do you say to a guinea? Hmm?
Now then, young fella, what time's your train?
-Half past. -FARNONS: Plenty of time.
-Here, master David, your sandwiches. -Thanks very much.
So... All ready to be off, eh?
Yes, thanks, thanks, for everything, Mr Farnon.
Not a bit. Been a pleasure having you here, David.
Tell me...
Are you going to be a vet one day, do you think?
Do you know, I think I probably will, Mr Farnon.
-Good. -But it's a funny sort of life really, isn't it?
Well, I suppose it is.
I guess.