-Hello, James. -Siegfried.
I'm taking this cat over to Granville Bennett.
Would you mind awfully adding one more visit to your list?
No, of course not. What is it?
Caleb Mount's shire...
Uh, Bobby.
Well, it's not like you to turn down a heavy horse job, Siegfried.
Oh, it's bound to be just a routine in-and-out job.
Mount's always fussing about that horse.
Anyway, it'll give you a chance to catch up on matters equine.
You've been neglecting that end of the business, you know, James.
Well, I'd hardly call it neglect, Siegfried.
Most horse jobs are snapped up by your good self.
You don't really think that, do you?
-Well, it's pretty much the case, isn't it? -Come on, James,
you must admit you have a natural aversion to horse work,
-especially the heavies. -Well, it's not my favourite job but...
Well, there you are, see?
You mean, you really wouldn't object if I took more interest?
Object? My dear fellow, I'd be tickled pink.
Besides, it would only benefit the practice.
Very well, we'll say the Mount's Shire is strictly my department, all right?
-Excellent. -Hmm.
See, James, believe me, though the red-hot specialist
has a place in the scheme of things,
it's the solid all-rounder that our game is really all about.
Well, with that edifying homily I'll be on my way.
Tristan not down yet?
No. I assume he slumbers on.
And for once, I shall let nature take its course.
Well, I expect he had rather a heavy night of it.
In any case, a reckoning is due presently.
Well, I'll leave you to it.
-Morning. -Good morning.
-Morning, veterinary. -Lovely day, Mr Scargill.
Hey! That's enough of that!
Come on, put it back!
(HUFFS) Little devil.
Now then, veterinary, what's to do here?
Some kid was helping himself to your stuff, Mr Scargill.
Did you get a look at him?
Yes, but I have no idea who he is, I'm afraid.
Thieving little beggar.
Mind, it's folks I blame.
Allow young 'uns out of t'house,
not a thought to what they're about.
Ee, I don't know.
I'm sure you're right.
Still, no harm done.
Aye. Well, thanks for your help, veterinary.
That's all right, Mr Scargill.
SIEGFRIED: That you, Tristan?
(DOOR CLOSES)
Oh, morning, Siegfried.
You have any idea what time of day it is?
-The time? -Yes, time.
From the Latin, tempus. Tempus fugit...
-Yes, I do understand, actually. -Hmm.
Well, would you kindly answer the question?
I don't really know. It's getting on, I should think.
It is, as you say, getting on.
What the deuce do you mean by slinking down at this time of day?
Excuse me, Siegfried, I just have to read...
Late last night, were you?
Well... Late-ish, I should think.
It was after 4:00 when I got in from a farrowing,
and you weren't back then.
Where the devil were you?
It was the licensed victuallers' ball, actually. It was very good.
You don't miss a trick, do you, little brother?
Bell-ringers' outings, darts team dinners,
pigeon fanciers' socials...
If there's good booze-up going on anywhere,
trust you to sniff it out.
Some of the licensed victuallers are my best friends.
Of course! You're their best single source of income.
I'm sorry my social life offends you.
Good God! Your social life, as you call it, is a shambles.
You skulk around Darrowby with a dozen different women...
I admit I enjoy a bit of female company from time to time,
-just as you do! -Never mind about me.
It's you we're talking about. It's you who have yet to qualify, Tristan,
you who have to face the examiners in Edinburgh,
and you who will most certainly fail
if this arseing about doesn't stop.
Yes, you're absolutely right.
-I take it you agree? -Oh, absolutely.
Don't you worry, Siegfried. From now on,
nights on the tiles, nights on the booze... Closed chapters.
To what do we owe this miraculous transformation?
I've got myself a steady girlfriend, actually.
-You've got a what? -Steady girlfriend.
No more playing the field for yours truly.
Debbie is everything I could ever ask for in a girl.
Debbie?
-Deborah... Who? -Deborah Mount.
Her father's one of our customers, I believe.
-Caleb Mount's daughter? -Yes! Smashing girl.
What's so funny?
You know what sort of man he is, don't you?
Well, no, I haven't got to know him awfully well as yet.
I'm sort of letting him get used to the idea.
You and Caleb Mount's daughter?
I shall be most interested to see how you get on. (CHUCKLES)
More than interested.
-Hello, James. -Hello, Debbie.
-Is your father around? -Afraid not.
-Everyone's out haymaking. -Oh, never mind, we can manage.
-It's Bobby, isn't it? -Yes, father wants you to check his hind feet.
-He's very worried. -Right. I'll get my boots on.
James, you know I've been seeing a bit of Tristan lately?
Yes.
Well, I'm supposed to be seeing him tonight,
only father doesn't know yet, and there may be trouble when he does.
Oh? Why?
Well, he hasn't made up his mind about Tristan yet.
You know, whether he's suitable or not.
He's very strict about boyfriends. About most things, in fact.
Anyway, I've tried ringing Tristan, but he's not at home.
Oh. And you would like me to give him a message?
Please. Tell him I can't make it tonight, but I'll be in touch.
All right. You consider it done.
Thanks.
Come on.
Right.
It's all right, James. He's quite safe to handle.
JAMES: All right, Bobby, it's all right.
DEBORAH: Good boy. JAMES: It's all right.
(HORSE SNORTS)
-Up you go, then. -Good boy.
(SIGHS)
Could you push him over please, Debbie?
-Yes. -Thanks. Go on, boy.
That's a boy, that's the way.
Thank you.
Up you come. That's it.
That's it, attaboy.
(SNIFFING)
(EXHALES WITH DISTASTE)
Good boy.
It's canker, Debbie. Both feet badly affected, I'm afraid.
-Is it serious? -No.
As long as we can get him treated fairly soon.
-He's not in any pain? -No, not yet.
Happily we've caught him just in time.
Perhaps you can get your father to give me
a telephone call when he's got a moment?
Of course.
Don't worry.
We'll sort it out.
(DOORBELL RINGING)
No, you missed the whole point of it, James.
Hang on.
(FIRECRACKER EXPLODES)
What on earth was that?
It was a firecracker. Planted by one of the local kids.
-Poor James. -It is not funny.
No, of course not, darling.
Did you see who it was?
-Yes, I did. -Good.
Mmm, something smells good.
Aye, no picking. Supper's in 10 minutes.
Oh, really? Pity I'm dining out.
You're what did you say?
I'm dining out, Mrs Hall. Didn't I tell you?
No, you did not.
And it's not very thoughtful of you, is it, Mr Tristan?
Oh, I'm terribly sorry. It must have slipped my mind.
You know the rules. No excuses.
-Now be off with you. -Yes, of course.
I'm sorry, Mrs Hall. It won't happen again.
Oh...
-I'll see you later, James. -Aren't you staying for supper?
-No, Debbie and I have other plans. -Oh, Debbie... Oh, Tris?
-Hmm? -Can you come in for a moment? Just for a moment.
You know how it is, pressures of work,
problems, matters of life and death.
Yes, I wish you'd get to the point, James, if there is a point.
Oh, yes, there is. I was over at Mount's farm today, you see.
-Ah, you saw Debbie. -Looking as lovely as ever.
-Did she mention me? -Yes, she did. As a matter of fact,
she asked me to tell you something terribly important,
which unfortunately slipped my mind.
She can't see you tonight but she will be in touch.
Oh, James, you're an absolute rotter!
-Why didn't you tell me? -I'm telling you now.
Mr Herriot, supper's in five minutes.
-Thank you, Mrs Hall. -Oh, Mrs Hall?
-Aye? -No problem about supper.
-Seems I'm staying after all. -Oh, you are, are you?
-Yes, circumstances beyond my control. -Mr Tristan,
are you staying to supper or are you not?
-Yes. You see... -Right. Thanks.
(PHONE RINGING)
(SPEAKING WITH A HEAVY ACCENT) Good morning, what you want here, huh?
Hello, is that Mr Mount?
It's Tristan Farnon here.
Oh, really? I'm sorry about that.
Uh-huh.
Yes, of course, I'll tell him, Mr Mount, straightaway. Goodbye.
-Of all the rotten luck. -What?
Debbie's father caught me on the phone doing one of my idiot voices.
Oh, good, maybe that'll stop you doing it.
The customers are convinced we've got a confirmed lunatic about the place,
which isn't very far from the truth. And no smoking please, Tris.
It's all I need. He's already breathing down my neck over Debbie.
Well, what respectable parent wouldn't?
It's absolutely maddening, James, I mean, there she is as keen as mustard,
and old Mount keeps queering my pitch.
Oh, he wants you out there this afternoon,
-some horse op or something. -Yes, I was expecting a call.
I mean, it's not as if I've put him out of sorts or anything.
In fact, I steer well clear of him.
Well, I mean. Pillar of the church,
spearhead of the temperance union,
I mean...
We're hardly ideal soul mates, are we?
-Think of the lovely Deborah. -Yes, I do, James.
Constantly.
-Tristan... -Oh. Cheers.
-Hello, James. -Hello.
Boning up on a job, are you?
Something like that.
What is this?
"Foot canker in the horse."
My word, we don't see much of that these days.
It's the first case I've ever handled, actually.
-You've got a case, James? -Mmm.
Mount's Shire. That in-and-out job you handed over to me.
-You lucky devil! -Mmm.
How bad is it?
-Both hind feet pretty seriously infected. -You don't say?
-Deciding on your treatment, eh? -What?
-You're deciding how you're going to treat it? -Oh. Yes.
Uh-huh.
-Ah, of course, you'll have to operate. -Yes, of course.
Tricky business.
I know you haven't actually done one, James,
but, uh, I imagine you've sat in on a good few
stinking foot cankers in the horse, have you?
You know perfectly well I haven't, Siegfried.
Oh, never mind, there's always a first time for everything.
Course, there is a limit to what you can get out of...
-Books. -Well, we've all got to start somewhere.
Yes, of course.
Yes.
A devil of a disease in the horse, foot canker.
Do you know, I've seen the whole sole of the foot disintegrate
and the pedal bone come through?
You know?
And of course,
if the discharge goes up behind the wall of the hoof
and causes separation, well, then...
Wouldn't see anything then, James.
Would you like to help me with this case?
Why, I'm always willing to lend a helping hand, James.
I'll get the car.
Hey.
-Problems, James? -Oh, it's that kid again.
Look at that tyre, it's as flat as a pancake.
I'll wring his scrawny little neck.
What's this unseemly display of bad temper?
-Calm, James, calm. -Siegfried, look at the tyre.
That boy's out to get your goat, and he's succeeding,
which means you simply spur him on.
Maybe. If I get my hands on him...
Well, if he goes on like this, you're bound to nab him.
Until which time, we'd better get on with the job in hand, huh?
Good? Let's go in my car.
(SIEGFRIED HUMMING)
(HORSE SNORTS)
All right, old lad.
There you go.
Absolutely right, James. It's an exceptionally bad case of canker.
What did you have in mind for him?
Well, I thought we'd cast him on the grass outside and operate there.
Ahh! The innocence of youth.
I take it you don't agree?
There's weeks of work in this, James.
We'll have to get Jenner the farrier to work up special footplates.
He'll have to keep him down there.
Now then, nitric acid,
lashings of antiseptics, dressings changed every day.
Sorry, but it's going to be necessary.
The alternative is to shoot a fine animal.
I mean it, James.
Good afternoon, Mr Mount.
I trust the hay crop was satisfactory?
Fine, thank you.
Now then, Mr Herriot,
I take it you know what's to be done about Bobby?
Yes, indeed he does. Mr Herriot thinks, and I entirely agree,
that Bobby's going to have to be put into hospital
if we're going to effect a permanent cure.
If you both think so, then you'd better get on with it.
Want to do whatever's right for the horse.
He's a grand sort, Bobby.
Fine. We'll arrange for Mr Jenner to come and collect him.
Something I'd like to ask you, Mr Farnon.
-Indeed, Mr Mount? -Concerns that young brother of yours.
-Tristan? -That's the fellow.
Been seeing our Deborah, you see?
Ah, yes, well, I'm afraid we keep our private lives strictly apart.
Aye. Well, I'd speak to him myself, but he's an elusive sort of chap,
-always dodging about. -What exactly is it you want to know?
He's not what you'd call a religious sort of fella, is he?
Religious?
No, not in the strictest sense of the word, but, um...
He's a Christian, nonetheless.
There's also the matter of drink. He does take to drink?
Drink? (CHUCKLES)
Hardly at all. Only in the strictest moderation.
Isn't that so, James? But as I say,
really, our personal lives are entirely separate.
Well, we'll see.
Thank you both. I'll be on my way now.
Good Lord, James.
(DOOR OPENS)
(WHISPERS) James, James.
SIEGFRIED: What we need is a glass of beer each, James.
-Right. -Oh, hello.
Enjoying a well-earned rest, are you?
I was tidying up the waiting room, as a matter of fact.
Well, it's, uh, it's very nice, Tris.
Hardly worth tidying up these antiques.
Look at the dates on some of them.
-Oh, yes. -Really must get some more.
Yes, well, If we could have your odorous presence elsewhere,
-I'll get on with it. -Oh, James!
Tristan's name came up in conversation this morning, didn't it?
Oh, yes. It certainly did.
-Oh? Where? -Mount's, actually.
Oh. What did he have to say?
What is the state of play between you and Debbie at the moment?
Debbie? It's fine, why?
Well, I'm simply expressing fraternal interest, my dear boy.
You did say it was serious between the two of you?
Well, sort of, yes.
Did you get a good look at Mount, James, today?
A formidable sort of chap in many ways.
Formidable? He's a giant, a veritable massif of a man.
-Did you see the size of his hands? -More like shovels, I thought.
(SIEGFRIED SIGHS) Yes.
Only true brave would trifle with daughter of big chief like that.
They do say he has very odd notions of right and wrong.
-Uh-huh. -Primitive ones, in fact.
The thought of those great hands round one's neck...
-The slightest pressure... -Oh, you sadistic pair.
How about that glass of beer, James?
-Splendid. -(SIEGFRIED WHISTLING)
Hot stuff, eh, James? Get it from a friend of mine in Edinburgh.
You're not seriously going to leave that hanging around, are you?
Well, it's an interesting thought.
I'd forget I said that, if you know what's good for you.
JAMES: She'll be all right now, Mr Davies.
-Right-o. Thank you, Mr Herriot. -Goodbye.
Bye, now.
JAMES: Next, please.
Come on, laddie.
Come on.
I won't keep you a moment.
Come on.
Ah, it's you, is it?
-What's your name? -Wesley Binks.
And what have you got to say for yourself?
You really have been messing me about, you know.
And Mr Scargill's gonna have a word or two to say to you as well.
This your dog?
What's the problem?
-Something's wrong with him. -Uh-huh.
All right, let's have him up on the table, shall we?
I'll do it.
Come on, boy. Come on. Come on.
All right. It's all right. It's all right.
Is he on, Wesley?
-Yeah. -Good.
-How long have you had him? -A month.
A fellow from Hurlington sold him to me.
Come on, baby.
How long has he been like this?
A week, two. He's been sitting about and coughing.
What's the matter with him, mister?
Well, I'm afraid he's got distemper.
What's that?
It's a very infectious disease.
Can you make him better?
I don't know how far advanced it is as yet.
But I can give him something to help him fight it.
-What's his name? -Duke.
-Do you like dogs? -I ain't never had one before Duke.
Well, he seems a friendly little chap, doesn't he?
Aye, he's a good lad. And he's clever, too.
-He'll do anything I tell him. -Mmm-hmm.
He will get better, won't he, mister?
Well, I'll do what I can.
Now, look, I'm going to give you some crystals which you dissolve.
And with that mixture you keep his nose and eyes clean.
You keep him warm and quiet,
and above all, you keep him away from other animals.
Now, you will do that, won't you?
When will I bring him back?
Um...
I can pay my way, mister. I've got money.
No. No, it's not the money.
Is it because of me you won't see him?
No, of course it isn't.
It's just that I...
I can't be sure that we can help him, that's all.
But you will try, won't ya?
Very well.
Now, those are the crystals.
And if you can bring him back on...
-Friday? -Aye.
Thanks for helping, mister.
Don't worry, I will do what I can for him.
(MUTTERS UNDER BREATH)
(METAL CLANKING)
All I can do today, I think.
-Take a hold of that, will you? -Mmm-hmm.
That's a lad.
Let's have the lead nitrate.
If you please.
-Nice and wet, right? -Mmm-hmm.
Good. Now the second dressing...
Acriflavine.
That will soak gently through.
Okay.
-Enough, yes? -That's fine.
That's fine. Great.
All right.
Now then, Pat, could I have a look at the plate, please?
Lovely.
Steady, old boy. Steady, old boy.
Steady, old boy, steady, old boy, steady, old boy.
It's a perfect fit, Pat. And the shoe...
Steady, lad.
Steady, lad. Steady, old boy. Steady, old boy.
I'll take that. Hand it to me.
Perfect.
Pat, now, will you take over?
All right?
Right.
Ah, as long as those plates keep up the pressure on the soles,
we're home and dry. Simply a question of good nursing,
which I'll share, of course.
A marvellous job, Siegfried.
Thanks for bailing me out.
On the contrary, James, thank you for letting me help.
Ages since I've tackled a job as sweet as this.
There you are, Wesley.
Well, he's looking very smart today.
Aye, suits him, doesn't it, Mr Herriot?
So, Mr Scargill's got a new assistant?
Aye, I help him on his rounds.
-Well, his van should be quite safe then. -Aye.
I've got another job, too.
Digging gardens for folk in our village.
Wesley, people won't know what's come over you.
Don't reckon to what folks say, so long as I do right by Duke.
That's the main thing.
He's not any worse, is he, Mr Herriot?
No, he isn't, Wesley. He's still the same.
But that's how it goes with distemper, you see.
It tends to drag on at first.
He'll have a chance, as long as we can avoid
the various complications of the disease.
What's them?
Well, fits, paralysis,
and a thing called chorea that makes the muscles twitch.
What happens if he gets them?
Well, then it's bad, Wesley.
It's very bad, indeed.
One good thing, though.
I mean, Duke being a mongrel.
You see, all crossbreeds have a thing called hybrid vigour,
and that helps them to fight disease better.
So...
Today's injection should keep him going for a bit.
And you can bring him back in a few days, all right?
(HUMMING)
(SHUSHING)
(DOG WHIMPERING)
Tris, you haven't left that magazine in there, have you?
You're crazy.
-You are crazy. -Harmless fun, James.
He's the third one this week. Caught old Charlesworth and JP yesterday.
Mr Jenkins is a lay preacher, for heaven's sake!
So what? Naturist magazines should stimulate
some interesting sermons, don't you think?
Watch.
-(CLEARS THROAT) -(GASPS)
Oh, it's you, Mr Farnon.
Yes, Mr Jenkins. If you'd like to come through now, please?
Aye. Yes, quite.
Hello, Mr Jenkins. You brought Luther in for his jab, I see.
That's right, Mr Herriot.
Well, I'll leave you to it.
-Oh, James? -(LAUGHING) Yes?
-Can I have a word with you? -Of course.
I've just had a most disagreeable interview.
Ah, you know that boy whose dog's got distemper?
-Wesley Binks? -Yes, well...
His mother's just had a word with me.
Are you acquainted with the lady?
No, but I have heard of her.
She's an extraordinarily unattractive character in every way.
Anyway, she's just discovered her boy's dog's got an infectious disease
and to be brief, she wants us to put it down.
-Does Wesley agree with this? -Apparently not. She wants it done, nonetheless.
She can't do that, Siegfried. The dog belongs to Wesley.
The dog has got distemper, James, hasn't it?
Yes, but we seem to have the symptoms in check at the moment.
You don't really expect it to recover now, do you?
Well, Wesley believes it, Siegfried.
He's crazy about that dog.
He's out doing the work of a grown man to pay for the treatment.
It'll take more than that to survive distemper.
If you wish for something hard enough...
-"If wishes were horses..." -I know.
"Beggars would ride." But you must have some faith, too.
James, with the greatest respect in the world,
can I urge you not to get... Involved.
With equal respect, Siegfried, I am involved.
I gave my word I would treat that dog.
At least while there's a chance it might still pull through.
What are you going to do about Mrs Binks?
Go and see her right away.
(SHEEP BLEATING)
(KNOCK AT DOOR)
(MAN SNORING)
Mrs Binks? My name's James Herriot.
I know who ya are.
Come to do business on Wesley's dog, have you?
Mmm-hmm. Can I come in?
(SNORING)
-Wesley not here? -Lad's out working.
So, say what you have to say and get on with t'job.
Well, Mr Farnon tells me you want the dog put down.
I never wanted that dog here, mister.
Dirty little animal.
Now it's got summat catching, it's got to go, and that's it.
-May I see the dog, please? -It's behind t'curtain there.
Thank you.
Good dog. It's all right.
It's all right.
Well, are you gonna do t'job or not?
I'm sorry, Mrs Binks, I can't do that unless Wesley wants it that way.
Wesley got nowt to do with it.
I won't have that dog here, not with a catching disease, I won't.
It really is no risk to humans, I promise.
Ha ha. That's what you say.
You realise just how fond of that dog Wesley is, do you?
Don't tell me about it, mister.
Every penny he earns he spends on that dog.
So are you gonna do this job or not?
I told you, I can't do that unless Wesley says so.
And if you have any feelings for that boy, you'll leave things be.
Don't you talk like that to me, Mr clever veterinary.
This is my house. What I say goes here.
I'm sorry you feel like that.
If you don't do summat about it soon, there's other folk who will.
If anything happens to that dog while he's in my care
I'll know exactly where the blame lies, won't I, Mrs Binks?
Not sure, James. One second.
-God, it smells. Powder, please. -(METAL CLANKING)
Right... Dressing.
-Antiseptic. -Mmm-hmm.
All right.
-More powder, please. -Mmm-hmm.
All over, that's good. Second dressing.
Powder again. Right you are, Pat!
-That's all right. -Mmm-hmm.
Right, then.
-Are you there? -Yes.
Thank you.
Treatments work like a dream.
SIEGFRIED: We should be able to send him home within a week I think.
JAMES: That should please Mr Mount.
He's been on the phone every other day.
I suppose Tristan's still seeing that daughter of his, is he?
Oh, whenever she's allowed out.
He is quite struck on her, you know.
Yes, but I wonder how long before his resolution
buckles under the weight of paternal disapproval?
Still, she seems to have trimmed his sails considerably.
Boozeless evenings, early nights, even caught him swotting once or twice.
-(JAMES LAUGHING) -Sheer boredom, I suspect.
Well, I'm sure Tristan has all sorts of ways
of keeping himself amused.
In fact... I know he has.
Summer's morning in an English village.
Nothing like it, James, is there?
No, not if you've got time to appreciate it.
Take time, James.
Take time.
Hello there, Mr Weeting.
Family outing, is it?
Something like that, Mr Farnon.
I'm taking lads down to the station.
I reckon they'd like to say cheerio, like.
-Are the boys going away? -BRIAN: Aye, to join up.
Good heavens.
MR WEETING: It's what lads want.
Any road, I reckon it's their duty, seeing war's not but far off.
Well, you're gonna miss them, aren't you, Mr Weeting?
MR WEETING: Aye, but me and missus can cope.
Same as we did before they growed.
Right, we'll be off now, else we'll miss train.
Bye, Dennis.
Bye, Brian. Good luck.
Thanks, Mr Farnon. Goodbye, Mr Herriot.
BRIAN: Bye, Mr Farnon, Mr Herriot.
Now, you take care of yourselves.
Don't you worry.
MR WEETING: Walk on, Mary. (CLICKS TONGUE)
What a damn business, James.
The old man'll kill himself if he tried to keep that patch of his going.
Well, there's always a chance the war won't happen.
Don't talk rot, James, the politicians have failed,
now it's up to people like them,
and others,
to pick up the pieces.
-I'll see you later, Tris. -All right.
Hello, Wesley.
You almost missed me.
Look at him, Mr Herriot.
He's better.
Oh, yes.
Right, let's have a look at him.
Come on, Duke.
Come on.
Hello, Wesley.
Good boy, good Duke.
Yes, he's definitely improved, Wesley.
He's been right lively the last couple of days.
He's champion.
That doesn't mean he's cured, you know.
Aye, I know, but he's on the road, ain't he?
Well, let's hope so, eh?
I won't need to bring him back then, will I?
No. Well, not unless something unusual happens.
Aye, but I know he's better.
We did it, Mr Herriot. We saved Duke.
Look, Wesley, it's much too soon to say that.
But if we have, well, it's mostly due to you.
Goodbye, Mr Herriot.
You did a right champion job on him.
-Come on, Duke. -JAMES: Good luck, Wes.
That's the rotten thing about distemper, Tris.
Just when you think it's getting better,
that's when it strikes back with a vengeance.
Would you have told him that?
(WATER FLOWING)
(MAN CLEARS THROAT)
(TRISTAN CLEARS THROAT)
Ah, Mr Mount.
Um... It's you, is it?
-And how are you today? -I'm all right.
And Debbie?
She's all right, too.
Good, good, good. Well, um...
-What can I do for you? -You can do nowt for me, young fella.
It's Mr Herriot I want to see. Or Mr Farnon.
Well, I'm afraid they're both out at the moment.
Well, I want to know how the horse is coming along.
So get one or t'other of them to ring me.
Do you hear?
Indeed, Mr Mount, yes. Directly I see them.
-And how was your day? -Oh, on and off.
It was more off than on, actually.
The fact is...
Siegfried and I had words today.
-Oh? -It was all really very silly.
He wanted a letter that I'd filed weeks ago,
-at least, well, I thought I'd filed it. -Mmm-hmm.
And he was absolutely furious with me.
-That's very unlike him. -Yes, very.
Anyway, he has apologised, so you won't mention it to him, will you?
Of course not. He has been in a foul mood these last few days.
-I think he must have something on his mind. -Mmm.
He hasn't mentioned it to you, has...
Hello, Siegfried.
Hello, my dear.
I'll be upstairs, James.
Can I get you a drink, Siegfried?
No thank you, James.
You told Mount his horse is ready?
-Uh, no, not yet. -Oh, would you kindly do so?
Well, it's not very easy at the moment. He's out harvesting.
Will you please make it your business
to find him and tell him so, or is that asking too much?
No, of course it isn't.
Not missing out on a drink, I trust?
What the devil have you been up to?
Why, what am I supposed to have been up to?
Does Mr Jenkins' name ring any kind of bell with you?
Or Mr Charlesworth, or several other of our more important customers?
It was just harmless fun, Siegfried.
If I catch you leaving filthy magazines around again...
It was really quite a tame magazine, Siegfried.
And you encouraged him, I suppose.
Hardly the action of a responsible partner.
TRISTAN: No, no, it was my fault.
For what it's worth, the magazine is now destroyed.
So can we please forget it?
What on earth's got into him, James?
Snapping people's heads off for no reason.
-It's just not good enough! -Well, he's obviously not himself.
-Obviously. The sooner he is, the better for all our sakes. -Mmm.
You notice he didn't mention Mount's name?
No.
Tristan, not him as well?
Yes, I caught him at it! You should have seen him, James.
Those huge hands flexing for mayhem.
For a second there, I thought the jig was up. (CHUCKLES)
(VEHICLE APPROACHING)
-Hello, James. -Hello, Debbie.
-That's a good-looking horse, Debbie. -Mmm-hmm.
Well, how's the great romance these days?
Oh. Hello, Mr Mount.
-Be off on your ride now, Deborah. -Yes, Father.
Come on. Come on.
I'll thank you not to fill the girl's head with your rubbish, Mr Herriot.
I was simply using a figure of speech, Mr Mount.
I'd forbid this business between her and young Farnon.
I might yet, and all, but it's not my way.
Give her time.
She'll see he's nowt but rubbish for the likes of her.
Indeed. Well, I was just passing through,
so I thought I'd pop in to tell you Bobby's ready.
-Ready, is he? -Yes, Mr Farnon and I
will be at Jenner's yard tomorrow afternoon,
so if you'd like to be there?
Aye.
Be right good to have Bobby back again.
See you there, Mr Mount.
Oh, it's you, James.
-How on earth did you find me? -I saw your car.
-Have you a moment? -Of course.
God's own country, isn't it, James?
JAMES: None like it.
SIEGFRIED: I used to walk this stretch as a boy.
Always camped in the beck down there.
Never wanted to be anywhere else.
Couldn't wait to set up a practice once I'd qualified.
We're very lucky. You've always known where you wanted to be,
and I found it by accident.
Spitfire.
Coming out of Leconfield, I expect.
Spitfire...
The place is hotting up, James.
I'm sorry I've been a bit out of sorts...
Lately.
It'll pass.
I've been so devilishly depressed
ever since those Weeting boys went off.
It struck home rather hard
what this war is gonna mean to people's lives,
not least, ours.
Plans, ambitions, lives...
All in the melting pot.
Nothing's certain any more.
Well, we'll have to come to terms with it, Siegfried.
I mean, there really is no other way.
I remember the effect of the last war, James.
Brought precious little except untold pain
and misery to countless people.
Still, you're right, of course!
Human animal is the most wonderfully adaptable of all.
We shall learn to come to terms with this wretched war, I suppose.
You're smiling. Why?
Well, it's just the idea of
me urging you to adapt to new situations.
I mean, it's usually the other way around, isn't it?
Good Lord, yes.
I suppose it is.
Well, I've got more farms to cover, Siegfried.
-Bye. -James?
Hmm?
Thank you for taking the trouble to stop.
I'll see you later.
Wes...
It's Duke, Mr Herriot.
He's right bad.
We'll have a look at him. Come on.
(WIRELESS PLAYS LOUD MUSIC)
I'm sorry, Wes, there nothing I can do.
Mrs Binks, would you please turn that wireless down?
Do as he says, Wesley.
(WIRELESS CONTINUES PLAYING)
We've got to do something, Wesley.
Otherwise he'll just die by inches.
And you wouldn't want that for Duke, would you?
I promise you he won't feel a thing.
All right, Mr Herriot. See to Duke.
-(WESLEY SOBBING) -It's all right, Wes. It's all right.
You going back in the house, Wes?
No.
Ah, Mrs Hall.
I have to pop out and pick up Mr Herriot.
Now, if a Miss Mount rings,
-would you tell her I'll be back within the hour? -Aye, I'll tell her.
Well, Mr Mount?
That's right champion, Mr Herriot.
He's as good as new again!
-Don't you reckon, Mr Farnon? -Yes, I do.
I think Mr Herriot's done a remarkable job.
(CAR HORN HONKING)
Yippee!
Oh.
Oh, I'm terribly sorry.
I, um...
-I didn't realise... -MOUNT: You again?
-I mean... -Another of your little jokes or summat?
Well, I'll give you summat to smile about, my lad.
-I can explain, Mr Mount... -Explain, can ya?
Well, I want nowt from you, do you hear me?
Nowt! And as for Deborah...
If I see or hear of you messing around her,
I'll find you,
and when I do, I'll fix ya!
Christian or no,
I'll fix ya good and proper!
Awfully sorry, Siegfried.
I thought James was here alone, you see?
No apologies, Tristan, or Christian, or whatever they call you.
I'm deep indebted to you, considering the endless sport
your funny ways afford for all and sundry, isn't that so, James?
Oh, for a moment I thought we'd lost a colleague and gained a corpse.
-(BOTH LAUGHING) -It wasn't funny! That old lunatic meant it!
Oh, never mind. I'm sure your sunny disposition will win him round in the end.
I never want to see him again.
Ah, but you will, little brother.
Yes, I mean, Bobby's gonna need postoperative care
for at least another month or so.
Siegfried...
You wouldn't dare send me out to face that homicidal brute?
Wouldn't I?
Good morning, Mr Scargill.
How do, veterinary?
Wesley not with you today?
That little devil?
Never want to see his face again.
Started pinching things, he did, days back.
-(SIGHS) -Aye, and he's been up to worse and all.
Sergeant Phelps says
he's started setting fire to people's hay!
Young 'uns today! I can't make 'em out, I can't.
Poor little blighter.
Save your sympathies, Mr Herriot.
He's a right bad 'un, that lad.
Don't care tuppence for man nor beast.
You're wrong, Mr Scargill.
There was something he cared for, once.
Aye. I'll believe you, Mr Herriot.
But thousands wouldn't.
Take care, veterinary.
Yes.
Bye, Mr Scargill.