WOMAN: Darrowby 85.
-Yes, it is. -(BARKS)
What name is it, please?
Which one do you want? There are two of 'em.
No, I'm afraid Mr Siegfried Farnon's out on his rounds.
I don't know when he'll be back.
His partner's out on his rounds too.
Mr Herriot's up at Daw's Crag.
I don't expect him back till this evening. (CHUCKLES)
It'll be long after you've closed.
That's because they've both been out since before 9:00, this morning.
If you want to speak to either of them,
you'll have to ring afore then.
Or there's Mr Tristan Farnon.
Would you like a word with him?
-It's that bit of a girl from the Ministry of Agriculture. -Mmm! Mmm.
(CLEARS THROAT)
Hello, Kitty. How are you?
She's very well, I'm pleased to say.
Oh, um...
Harcourt here, Divisional Inspector.
I don't think we know each other,
although, you seem to enjoy a certain intimacy with my secretary?
Uh, yes, well I have been, um...
I won't keep you, I know you must be very busy.
-Uh, yes, but if there's anything I... -I want Herriot.
Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Harcourt,
I'm afraid Mr Herriot's away all day tuberculin testing.
In fact, he's got a pretty full programme at the moment.
I am aware of that. It's what I have to talk to him about.
(CHUCKLES) Yes, of course.
-Madam. -Next time, come round the back way.
TRISTAN: Uh-huh.
Mmm-hmm.
Uh-huh?
Uh, yes, yes, I see.
And so, with that in mind, I think we'd better make a firm appointment, don't you?
I'll shall expect Mr Herriot at 9:15 sharp.
Yes, very well.
Now I shan't need to keep him very long,
although that will be entirely up to him.
-Goodbye. -Goodbye, Mr Harcourt.
(MUMBLES)
MAN: Come back here! You come back here, now!
Here! You come back here!
Emma, come back here!
Good morning!
Come back when I tell you. I'll teach you!
How old is she?
-What? -How old's your bitch?
-14 months. -That's no way to treat her.
-Mind your business. -That's precisely what I am doing.
Come back here when I tell you!
Come back, I tell you! I'll teach you!
That's no way to teach a young dog.
Away, will you? She'll not come while you're here.
Would you like a small wager?
Come on, then. Come on, girl. Come on!
Come on, come on, come on, come on.
(VOCALISING)
Come on, girl. Come on. Come on, come on.
Come on, come on, come on.
Here, come on. There's a good girl. There's a good lass. Hmm?
That's it, there's a good girl.
See? She's afraid of you.
She has to learn who's boss.
Yes, of course, the best way to teach her obedience is by kindness.
Matter of opinion. They need a short, sharp shock.
If you want them to cringe.
If you want an obedient dog you've got to be firm but kind.
-Oh? -Of course, it requires patience.
Is that so?
Well, I'm a busy man. I've no time for being soft.
If you take my advice, you'll make time.
The dog will work better, do more for you if you have her respect.
I'll teach her respect.
Not with that you'll not.
It's quite simple. Let me show you.
Come on, girl! Come on, come on, come on.
Come on, then, girl! Come on then! Come on, come on, come on.
(VOCALISING)
No.
Well, that's a pity.
Now she associates me with you.
Aye. And, I'll thank you not to interfere.
This is what they understand and this is what she's going to get.
No, no, no, sir. I do assure you, no!
Hear me! Hear me in your own interest.
That animal requires your affection, more, she craves it.
Don't deny it, give her your affection and she's yours to command.
You're off your head, man.
That's entirely possible but hear me out.
One first establishes an affectionate relationship.
This causes little trouble
because the dog, being uncomplicated, makes all the advances.
One then takes command.
If the dog transgresses, one shows disapproval,
not by inflicting physical pain but thus,
one takes its head in one's hands and shakes it to and fro like this.
All one has inflicted, you see, is loss of dignity.
The animal won't cringe, but she'll remember the expression of disapproval,
with advantage.
Come here, you!
Come here, you.
(MAN SHOUTING) Come here when I tell you! Come here!
Come here when I tell you!
Come here!
Here!
If you'll only do like I said, Mr Herriot.
Please, Mr Hill, I've got an awful lot to get through.
I'll have 50 of these and two herds by this afternoon.
-Have you, now? -That's what I'm tellin' you.
Please, Mr Hill, I know you're trying to help
but my way is quicker in the long run.
That one's number is 3-4-9.
(MOOING)
You're wasting your time, Mr Herriot.
I've got the whole list, all in correct order.
I wrote it out special for you to take home with you.
(SIGHS)
All right, Mr Hill, I'll take it.
Thanks very much.
Thanks, Mr Hill.
-There are five more like this? -Yes.
-Any frothing at the mouth? -I've not seen any.
-But there was paralysis? -Yes.
And you did see them jumping?
It's that louping ill, isn't it, Mr Farnon.
Well, I'm very much afraid it looks like it, Mrs Noakes.
MRS NOAKES: It's spreading then?
SIEGFRIED: Well, it shouldn't.
With them having it over at Yateley.
Yes.
What am I going to do?
Well, you go... You've got to get them down to lower ground.
The tick doesn't like it down there.
But the other beasts?
Well, they should be all right.
We'll isolate any that are infected.
They should be easy enough to spot.
How many are we going to lose, Mr Farnon?
Well, it's hard to say, my dear.
The sooner you get them down from here, the better.
You see, the virus that causes the louping ill is carried by a sheep tick,
and that tick can't exist except up on high moorland like this.
I'll not manage, Mr Farnon. I've no room down there.
How long before they're back up here again?
Well, all the bracken and the heather...
Anything that harbours the ticks' got to be cut back, burned.
-That means... -I'll never do it.
Not now, my husband's gone. I've only my two lads and one's still going to school.
I can't afford to pay to have it done.
I'll have to get rid of them.
(WOMAN HUMMING)
Helen?
-HELEN: Is that you, James? -Mmm-hmm.
Hello.
-Oh. Whoops! -(CHUCKLES)
-Had a good day? -Well, I got through the quota.
-How about you? -Wonderful.
-Oh, good... -Promise you won't be cross.
What's the matter?
You have broken something? (LAUGHS)
No, silly! (CHUCKLES)
I've got a job.
-You've got a what? -A job.
I start on Monday.
-Doing what? A secretary at Wailend's, the miller's.
A man called Debden, he's very nice.
Start on Monday.
What, you, a secretary?
What do you mean "me"? I do it here.
-That's different. -No, it's not.
-(METAL CLATTERING) -And I can cope with both.
-But Helen... -Uh-uh, uh. You promised.
-Promised what? -That you wouldn't be cross.
As it happens, I didn't.
-The money's marvellous. -Is it?
-Another £2 a week. -(EXHALES)
-Well, just think of it. -Yes, I am.
Why didn't you tell me?
Oh, I don't know.
I wanted to get it first.
You're not going to be stuffy about it, are you?
-Stuffy? -"I'm not sending my wife out to work", that sort of thing.
-Well, I'm not, am I? -No, so you don't mind?
Well, I don't know, I have to think about it.
What is there to think about, except the future?
That's what I'm thinking about.
Well, we can't stay here forever.
-Well, aren't you happy here? -Well, of course I am, but...
I want a place of our own.
And instead of just dreaming about it,
I want to do something about it, don't you see?
Oh, yes, of course.
-But what's going to happen here? -What do you mean?
-You've made yourself indispensable. -Oh, piffle! (CHUCKLES)
Mrs Hall's a dear but I know very well I get under her feet.
Well, I'll tell you one thing, Siegfried's not going to like it.
-Why shouldn't he? -I can hear him now.
Capital, first rate, absolutely splendid.
-Congratulations, Helen, my dear. -Thank you.
-You don't mind? -Mind? Why should I mind?
I see. Is he being a bit stuffy?
-(HELEN LAUGHS) -Well, don't mind him, James is being old-fashioned.
It's a very endearing quality in the young, you'll grow out of it.
My goodness, we're going to miss you.
Well, I'm not going away, Siegfried!
No, no, no, I mean, the paperwork,
the order that you've brought to our creative chaos.
Oh, there'll still be time for that, Siegfried.
Oh, no, dear me, no, I wouldn't hear it.
Well, there's not much to do. It's simply a question of routine.
Even so, we can't work you round the clock, can we?
Well, you do.
Most redoubtable feminine logic. You're a woman.
Now who's being old-fashioned?
Not at all. not a question of attitude.
-It simply offends my basic instincts. -Oh... He has spoken.
Your simple routine, Helen, should be undertaken by another.
I think I ought to tell you that I've quite made up my mind.
-To do what? -Pass in parasitology.
-Oh, good. -Next term.
-Even better! -It'll mean a lot of work, lots of midnight oil.
That's no problem.
-What? -For you, midnight oil.
No problem, you're as nocturnal as a cat.
-What? -SIEGFRIED: A tomcat.
-(SIEGFRIED LAUGHS) -Now listen, Siegfried.
-Speak. -TRISTAN: What?
I'm all attention.
Well, I think I've got enough on my plate.
That's a particularly apt metaphor.
Do you know, when I was your age I was a glutton for work.
You've simply got to sharpen up your attitude.
You look upon Helen's routine filing as an aperitif.
Now look here...
Give me the hare.
Mrs Hall really has surpassed herself, hasn't she?
Hmm.
I feel sure you'll succeed in parasitology with minimal effort.
I always thought you had a unique experience of the subject.
Oh, you wondrous woman, Mrs Hall!
I must tell you your jugged hare is successful. It's absolutely beautiful.
Mmm.
(CHINA CLANKING)
Has somebody upset Mrs Hall?
Why do I always get the blame for everything?
She's been a bit down all day.
-Oh? -Perhaps she's in love.
And really, it is remarkable how your mind runs on one...
It's a joke! A joke!
-She was entertaining a man this morning. -Oh!
Entertaining, hmm?
-Well, she gave him a cup of tea. -I see. Lavish. (LAUGHS)
Which reminds me, the Min of Ag rang.
-SIEGFRIED: Who, old Harcourt? -Yes.
What did he want?
-James. -Not again.
He was a bit narked, actually. He went on and on about filling in forms.
Well, I can't do the things. There's so many of them.
It's like arithmetic, I take one look and I seize up.
Well darling, never mind, I'll do the forms.
Anyway, he wants to see you tomorrow morning, 9:15 sharp...
-Well, I'm not going. -Now, James.
Oh, come on, Siegfried, how can I? I'm up to my eyes in tuberculin testing.
It's all right for him sitting in that office, waving bits of paper about.
I know, I'd love to help you but I'm afraid my plate's a bit full
and Tristan's got surgery.
Oh, I don't mind going.
I've got a bit of pull with the girl there actually, Kitty.
-She wants me to teach her to play the guitar. -HELEN: Guitar?
-Are you going to? -Why not?
I must look it out.
(SIGHS)
Helen, could you pass the potatoes, please?
James, I'm afraid you can't just not go.
We simply can't afford to offend old Harcourt. We need the work, you see?
-Oh. I'll get some more. -Would you? You're an angel!
Cheer up, darling, I'll do the forms and I'll come testing.
It'll be like a second honeymoon.
James, you know you have in Helen a pearl of great price?
Yes, I know. If a shade unpredictable.
Oh, respond to her, James, respond to her.
I just wish her energy and sense of responsibility
would rub off on certain others.
(TYPEWRITER CLACKING)
MAN: I can expect action then?
Without delay, you may depend on it.
I'll pass that on.
Ah, Herriot, good.
Please come in. Sorry to keep you waiting.
-Please sit down. -Thank you.
(COUGHS)
Now, Herriot.
It's not a bit of use my pretending that I'm not very annoyed.
-In fact, I'm bloody annoyed. -Yes, Mr Harcourt.
It's not as if I haven't got quite enough to cope with,
-dealing with this outbreak of louping ill. -Yes.
Well, what have you got to say for yourself?
-I don't know. -What?
I mean I don't know yet.
-Oh. -It's not a bit of use saying, "Oh".
That's what you said when you tested that cow of Franklin's that had been dead two years.
That was clever stuff, I don't know how you managed it.
Well, that was some time ago.
But this isn't! This is your test at Mason's of High View.
There are two cows on this list, number 71 and 103.
Our records show that they were both sold at Broughton six months ago,
-so you performed another miracle! -I'm sorry.
Oh, don't be sorry. It's marvellous how you do it. I've got all the figures here,
skin measurements, the lot.
I see you found they were both thin skinned even though they were 15 miles away
at the time, clever stuff.
-Well, you see, there was the... -Yeah, all right, Herriot,
I'll dispense with the comedy.
I'll tell you once more and for the last time,
look in the bloody ears in future.
Yes, Mr Harcourt.
From now on, I can assure you...
The only assurance I want from you is
do you want this work or don't you.
If you don't just say the word and I'll give it to another practice.
Then maybe we'll both be able to lead a quiet life.
Please, Mr Harcourt, I give you my word that I...
We do want this work very much.
All right.
-And thank you for being... -Sit down, lad, sit down. I haven't finished yet.
May I ask you to cast your mind back to that cow
you took under a TB order from Wilson at Low Parks?
Yes.
-Yes, I remember it. -Very well, Herriot, lad.
Do you also remember a little chat we had about forms?
Yes.
-Did nothing I said to you at the time sink in? -Yes, of course. (CHUCKLES)
Then why, oh why, didn't you send me a receipt for slaughter?
-Didn't I? -No, you didn't.
I really can't understand why.
I went through it with you last month, step by step,
when you forgot to forward a copy of the valuation agreement.
I really am very sorry.
There's really nothing to it.
-You forget one thing. -What's that?
Well, you're the expert.
-Application, laddy. Application. -Application.
I tell you what we'll do.
We'll go through the whole procedure once more, shall we?
Yes.
-Yes, by all means. -Very well.
Now, first of all, when you find an infected animal,
you serve B-205-DT, form A,
"notice requiring detention and isolation of the animal."
Next there's B-207-DT, form C,
"notice of intended slaughter."
Then B-208-DT, form D, a post-mortem certificate.
Then B-196-DT, veterinary inspector's report.
Then B-209-DT, valuation agreement.
And in cases where the owner objects,
B-213-DT, "appointment to valuer".
Then we have B-212-DT, "notice to owner of time and place of slaughter"
followed by B-227-DT, "receipt for animal for slaughter."
And finally, B-230-DT, "notice requiring cleansing and disinfection."
Now...
What's difficult about that?
What? Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
No, I'm sorry, George. The best you can do is give him a decent funeral.
-I've had him since he were a tadpole. -Yes.
Well, that's the trouble, you see.
I mean, you try getting into your trousers when you're my age.
What's that to do with it?
Well, your late, lamented friend grew some legs, you see,
wanted to hop about a bit and catch a few insects.
He did hop about and I gave him flies and things.
-Yes, I'm sure you did, but... -What about my goldfish?
Why? What's the matter with him?
Naught's wrong with him and he's in a jar.
Yes, but goldfish are happy in jars!
Don't look happy no more than Fred did.
Well, that's because he's Chinese.
-Who said? -I said!
And the Chinese are inscrutable.
What's "scrutable"?
It's what goldfish are. Oh, go on. Off you go.
-But we call him Charlie. -(SIGHS)
-(DOORBELL CLANGS)
(DOGS BARKING)
It's all right, Mr Tristan. It's for me.
I said, come around back.
(MOOING)
How long's she been like this, Mr Moverley?
Seemed right sudden.
It's not this sheep disease they got over at Yateley way?
The missus said Lord Livingston's having the moors cleared.
Louping ill? Oh, no.
They say it gets to cattle.
No, no. It's not louping ill.
(COW COUGHS)
You should have called me in sooner.
How long's she been coughing like this?
Uh, started some time since, then she were all right for a bit.
I thought it were naught but a chill. She's been eating all right.
Well, I'm sorry, Mr Moverley, but I think it's TB.
-TB? -(COW COUGHS)
Hold on there, girl.
This will make absolutely sure.
I'll let you know in the morning, Mr Moverley.
(SIEGFRIED SINGING)
-Siegfried, about these... -Ah, Tristan, take a squint at this.
That one...
Ziehl-Neelsen.
James back yet?
-Give him a chance. Three herds up at Cliffsend. -Uh-huh.
My dear boy, there's no earthly use just gazing at it.
You've got to do something about it.
Hmm?
-Use the Ziehl-Neelsen stain on it. -What?
I know. I know.
Wonderful.
(SINGS)
-Hello, Mrs Hall. -Mr Farnon?
If you're not too busy, would it be all right if I had a word with you?
Yes, of course, Mrs. Hall. Of course.
Let's go through there, shall we?
Now, then, come and sit down.
Uh, no. Thank you. I won't take up your time.
Something's the matter. Please tell me about it.
I have to ask you to let me go.
You want to leave?
No. I have to.
My dear Mrs Hall, please, please come and sit down.
Now then, what's all this nonsense?
-It's my brother Arthur. -Is he ill?
No, but he needs help.
He's got a place over near Yateley.
He's got 500 ewes up there.
-Louping ill, huh? -Aye.
He's got to get sheep off moor, then he's got to clear it.
And there's land up there to be drained.
Oh, my dear Mrs Hall.
I've told him he'll never do it, but he won't listen.
Is there no one to help him? What about that nephew of yours?
He got married six months ago, and went to Australia.
Dear.
Is there nobody else can give him a helping hand?
No, they're all in the same boat up there, Mr Farnon.
And there's no paid labour to be had, even if he could afford it.
Getting the lad and his wife to Australia took all we...
All he had.
But what will you do? What can you do?
I don't know, but I've got to do something.
Well, you know he's got to sell those sheep.
He won't, Mr Farnon. He's a very stubborn man.
Like his sister.
He says he'll see the landlord dead first.
He reckons it's a way of getting sheep off land for good.
No, no, no, no, no.
Well, we've tried to talk to him, his wife and me.
But he won't listen.
-(SOBBING) He'll kill himself. -Now, you listen to me, Mrs Hall.
If you really feel that you must go, then of course, you must go.
But I'm perfectly sure there's something we can do about it.
I know Lord Livingstone, I've met him, anyway...
He's not the sort of landlord to ride roughshod over his tenants.
Quite the reverse, I'd have thought.
Ah, the outlook isn't as bleak as all that.
I'm sure if an appeal were made to him...
Arthur's tried that, Mr Farnon.
He's been over to that shooting box.
All they said was his Lordship's in South of France
and there's naught they can do about it.
What rubbish! Bound to say that.
But, no offence to your brother, of course,
but these people, you have to know how to approach them,
you know, Buckingham Palace, the butler's much more regal than the king.
Now, you're to leave this to me.
I'm sure there's something we can do about it.
Aye. Well...
Thank you, Mr Farnon.
It's all right, my dear.
Tubercle bacilli, where's it from?
What? Uh... Moverley.
Why isn't the telephone book in the hall?
Uh, it's...
It's none of my business, of course,
but Mrs Hall's boyfriend was here again this morning.
It's her brother.
-Oh. -The one who farms over at Yateley.
He's one of those in trouble with the louping ill.
Well, it's not serious though, is it?
Not serious? She's just given us notice.
It's too early for an outbreak of sheep tick.
-Told you I'd pass this time. -Very good.
Let me give you a fraternal wrinkle
and one you won't find in the textbooks,
the parasite has an eye to the main chance,
and don't forget we've had a mild, wet winter.
Oh! Of course. He doesn't live here, does he?
-Who? -Livingstone. Lord Livingstone.
No, he only comes up to shoot grouse.
Now, who the hell would know his number, uh, old Harcourt.
Min of Ag.
Kitty.
4-2-7.
(DOOR CLOSES)
I found it, Mr Tristan.
Well done, Mrs Hall. Where was it?
-On top of wardrobe. -But I'd looked.
Not yours, his.
Oh, yes?
I've given it a bit of a polish.
Thank you very much, Mrs Hall.
Well, good night, all.
-Good night. -Good night, Mrs Hall.
And thank you very much.
It was entirely self-preservation, I assure you.
-(STRUMMING GUITAR) -I knew you must have hidden it.
You have absolutely no conception of the psychological torment
occasioned by your incessant strumming!
Practise makes perfect.
In Edinburgh I was considered something of a Segovia.
Well, I can understand that.
All that woodwind from the battlements must serve
to blunt musical appreciation, I suppose.
(STRUMMING CONTINUES)
I shall beat a retreat.
-Buenas noches, senor. -Good night.
(MELODIOUS STRUMMING)
(BARKING)
Morning, Mrs Hall. What a lovely morning it is.
-Good morning, Mr Farnon. -Let me take those.
Now, you're not to worry. Everything's going to be all right.
Aye, Mr Farnon.
So cheer up, hmm?
There we are, Mrs Hall.
(SPEAKING IN FRENCH) James, where's Helen?
Here's your... Helen!
-(LAUGHS) -Good morning! (LAUGHS)
Tristan not down yet, I suppose?
-Morning. -TRISTAN: Morning.
How's the testing going, James?
Well, we're getting through it.
Helen's coming with me today.
Ah, good. You're not too pressed.
I thought I'd go over Broughton way today.
JAMES: Broughton?
Yes, see what I can do about this louping ill.
It occurred to me that if the landlord wants to pot at his grouse
on the Glorious Twelfth, he might be persuaded
to ante up some help for his tenants.
Hmm, not too far out of your way.
No, but then there's Moverley.
We've got to take a cow under the TB order.
Now, I could, of course, tell him personally
on the way over to Broughton, that means...
Would you mind looking after the paperwork, James?
And, of course, telephoning the knackerman?
-Come on, dogs. Come on, boys, come on. -(DOGS BARKING)
Don't worry, James.
I'll do the paperwork.
Slaughtered? It's naught but a chill!
It's open TB, Mr Moverley.
Oh, I suppose it's no use arguing.
But, there's no doubt. The sample I took yesterday was positive.
Never mind about all that.
If bloody government says my cow's got to go, it's got to go.
But I get compensation, don't I?
-Yes, you do. -How much?
Well, the statutive value is £5.
Bloody hell!
We can appoint a valuer if you don't agree.
Oh bloody hell, let's get job over, then.
I'm sorry, Mr Moverley.
Jeff Mallock, knackerman, will be up tomorrow morning to collect her.
Wretched, isn't it, wretched. Good day.
(COW MOOING)
-HELEN: James? -Hmm?
HELEN: Come and look.
There. Now, what's difficult about that?
Well, nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Old Harcourt will think I'm a reformed character.
He's sending someone around for them today.
All we need now is the knackerman's signature.
Well, I've telephoned Mallock. There's no answer.
Have to call over and leave a message.
I can't think of a nicer way to start my second honeymoon.
Right-o, Mr Herriot.
I'll be over to collect her as soon as I've had me breakfast.
I went out early this morning.
Thanks a lot, Jeff.
Bye-bye, Mr Mallock.
(CAR DRIVING AWAY)
(BARKING)
Hello, old girl.
Oh, you poor old thing.
Good morning!
Ah. I think we've met before.
I'll not forget it.
Thank you. My name's Farnon.
I telephoned yesterday and made an appointment to meet Mr Murray,
Lord Livingstone's agent.
You're talking to him.
Oh, I see.
Ah. How do you do?
What do you want?
I've met Lord Livingstone a couple of times.
You been with him long, have you?
Long enough.
He's in the South of France, I believe?
If you want to see His Lordship, you'll have to go to Nice.
No, no, no.
No, it's you I want to see. You're the very man.
The man in charge of His Lordship's affairs here.
Then you'll know I'm a busy man.
Quite, Mr Murray. Then, I'll come to the point straightaway.
Good, I'm away over to Darrowby for the day.
Taking the wife there to do some shopping.
You must bring her over and have a drink. I'd love to meet her.
Skeldale house in Trengate.
What did you say your name was?
Farnon.
-Far-ron. -No, "non," Far-non.
Uh, I won't keep you.
I've come rather on an errand of mercy.
-Mercy? -Mmm-hmm.
It's about the outbreak of louping ill over at Yateley.
There's a number of farmers over there, four to be precise,
who are going to suffer great hardship if they don't get some help.
What help?
Helping clearing the moor to expose the sheep tick.
Cutting back the bracken and heather, draining the bogs.
Help from me?
Well, I thought that if the landlord were to contribute to the cost,
it would, after all, be in his own interest, come to think of it.
You're off your head.
The tenant's responsible for the state of the land.
And if he puts his filthy sheep all over it,
he's the one who's got to clean it up.
Quite, Mr Murray, that is the law.
-But if a man through no fault of his own is faced... -No fault of his own?
No fault of his own? Sheep tick all over grouse moor?
There are times, you know, when in spite of all precautions...
I'll tell you this!
They'll get no help from me.
Mr Murray, if those farmers aren't helped,
at least two of them will go bust.
Good. The sooner the better.
I want their sheep off my moor and there's an end to it.
What's keeping you, woman?
It's time we were away.
Er, no, no.
Try again. That finger there and that finger there.
Yes, that's better, but you must try and relax.
-(PHONE RINGS) -Relax.
You see, if you don't relax, then you'll pass on your tension to the instrument.
So to speak.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
-I'm sorry. -(GUITAR CLATTERS)
You're wanted on telephone, Mr Harcourt.
Oh, crumbs! The forms! He'll kill me.
(GROANS)
In surgery too!
(SIGHS)
JAMES: Just one more herd. What would I do without you?
HELEN: You'll find out, after Monday.
-JAMES: Oh, that. -Oh, don't worry, darling.
I'll always be your form filler.
Promise?
(BICYCLE BELL RINGS)
-Look out! -(TYRES SCREECH)
My God! Wait!
Thank God I caught you! They said you'd be this way.
What's the matter, Mr Moverley?
Mallock's took me cow.
Yes, I know he has. I called him and told him to come up here...
No, no, he's took the wrong one.
-What? -He's off with the best cow in my herd, pedigree Ayrshire.
I bought her in Dumphrey's last week.
They only delivered her this morning.
We were at loose box with the other and Mallock took wrong one.
-Oh, good heavens. -He's your responsibility, tha knows.
If he kills me good cow, you'll have to answer for it.
Get on the telephone to the knacker's yard.
I've tried that, there's no reply.
I tell you, they'll shoot her before we can stop him.
-You know how much I paid for that cow? -JAMES: All right. All right.
Now, which way did he go?
-Missus said towards Grampton. -Right.
He may be picking up other beasts, if we're lucky.
Well, he's not in Grampton.
Perhaps he went back to Darrowby.
Well, not if he came this way.
Take it easy, darling.
This would have to happen. Harcourt will nail me to the office door.
Don't exaggerate. Anyone can make a mistake.
A mistake? I've made nothing else.
You didn't make it, Mallock did.
Who the hell's going to believe that?
I mean, we'll get no more Ministry work.
-Siegfried'll skin me alive. -Oh, don't be so silly. (CHUCKLES)
Silly?
Watch the road!
(TYRES SQUEALING)
Now, don't talk. Do you mind? Just don't talk.
-Do you know what I think? -No, I don't! Just look, all right?
-There! Over there! -What? Where?
-Drive on! Drive on! -What do you think I'm doing?
Go on, pass that thing. Go on.
Look out!
Why have you stopped?
-Don't you know? -I saw something. Looked like a van, dark green.
There! See it?
JAMES: That's him! It's him!
Well done, darling. Well done!
-Now what? -HELEN: Left.
Why this way?
JAMES: Elementary, my dear Helen.
If he was going to Darrowby, he would have turned off just past Grampton.
Suppose he wasn't going into Darrowby.
Suppose he was going somewhere on the way.
Suppose you leave the decisions to me.
There! Up ahead!
What did I tell you?
It's a question of bringing on the challenges and coming to a decision.
Having made it, you stick to it.
Yes, darling, you're very clever.
It's not a question of being clever.
And very brave.
Sorry, Helen.
That's all right. I understand.
(HORN BLARES)
What's thou making all that hooting for?
Sorry.
I thought my back wheel had fallen off.
I thought you were Jeff Mallock.
If you wants Jeff, he's back at his yard by now, I reckon.
Passed him at crossroad. He turned off there.
-Sorry. -All right, governor. I'll be off then.
Rotten luck, darling. Never mind.
(HORN BLARING)
How about...
How about running a book shop?
-A book shop? -Uh, second-hand.
There must be an opening for one in Darrowby.
Instead of the job at the miller's?
Not you! Me!
-Do you have time? -Oh, yeah.
-After I'm struck off. -Struck off?
Vets don't get struck off.
I wouldn't like to bet on it. After all this, they must do something.
Just think of it, eh.
No more turning out at 2:00 in the morning.
No more stripping off in freezing cold cow sheds.
No more Min of Ag forms.
You'd be bored to death!
What a wonderful way to go!
Hello, Jeff.
Now then, Mr Herriot, Mrs Herriot.
Just having a little snack.
What about thee?
No thanks, Jeff.
-Mrs Herriot? -No thank you, Mr Mallock.
It's very kind, but not just now.
Uh, sorry you caught me out like this.
That's all right. A man's entitled to his tea!
No, I didn't mean that.
I always reckoned to have the beast dressed and ready for you,
but you've come a bit early.
But, er...
Nay, nay, that's not her.
That's not the cow from Moverley's?
That's right. I had to do this one first.
Moverley's cow's still in the wagon, there.
Alive?
Aye. 'Course.
Never had a finger on her.
Nice cow for a screw, too.
She's no screw, Jeff.
That's the wrong cow you've got in there.
Wrong cow?
Yes, the one you've got was delivered this morning.
You weren't to know and you went to the wrong byre.
Well... (LAUGHS) That's a licker!
(ALL LAUGHING)
Saved by a tea break!
(SIGHS) At last. I'm dying for a cup of tea.
Oh, Mr Herriot?
There was a telephone call for you from the Minister of Agriculture.
Oh, no.
Mr Harcourt wants to see you.
(SIGHS) Not again. When, Mrs Hall?
Well, that girl did say there was no hurry,
just to drop in if you were passing any time.
"Drop in."
HELEN: Come on, let's get that tea.
My dear chap, I don't want to quarrel with you.
It you who was shouting the odds.
I'm not your dear chap.
-More's the pity. -What was that?
-Come on home, Alec. -Don't paw me, woman. Leave me be.
So I don't know what I'm talking about?
That's not what I said.
-It's what you implied. -I said that I thought you were mistaken.
Mistaken, am I? Well, I'll tell you this!
I'll not make a mistake about getting every single sheep off that moor.
-(MEN GRUMBLE) -All 27,000 acres of it.
It happens to be a grouse moor.
The farmers pay rents.
They have as much right to graze it as you have to shoot it!
Aye, but not to poison it.
-(ALL CLAMOURING) -They've not the right to kill my birds with their sheep!
But they don't!
The tick does, the sheep tick.
Well, that's not strictly true, as a matter of fact.
The disease is caused by a virus, the tick is merely a vector.
It simply lives on the moor simply because it's a moor.
It doesn't need sheep.
It could just as well live off rabbit, hare, grouse...
-It could just as well be called a grouse tick! -(ALL LAUGH)
And how the hell do you know?
Are you a qualified vet?
-No, but... -I am!
-You again. -And, my brother is perfectly right.
-Is that a fact? -Yes, it is a fact.
And his knowledge of the subject is more profound than my own.
So you don't know it all. Well, that surprises me.
MAN: Go back to Scotland!
You know, that's not bad advice.
Look, it occurs to me that Lord Livingston has a moor in Scotland, hasn't he?
He'd not miss the Glorious Twelfth up there, would he?
-Alec! -And you shut your gob!
If you'll allow me, sir, sir, that is no way to address a lady.
-Hah! -If you're about to say what I think you are,
your wife has my dearest sympathy.
Steady on, old chap.
(GROANS)
(INDISTINCT MURMURING)
(ALL LAUGHING)
Siegfried, I must buy you a drink.
Very kind of you, my dear boy.
"More profound than my own", eh?
-I've forgotten more than you'll ever learn. -Oh, don't spoil it.
What will it be?
I'll have a whisky, if I may?
-Large one? -If you insist.
Large Scotch, please, Muriel, and same again for me.
Scotch.
(BARKING)
(GROWLING)
Hello. Hello!
MR MURRAY: You're trespassing.
-Ah, good morning. -Get going.
I am telling you to clear off.
You know, your animals could be in much better condition.
Did you hear me?
Did you bring them with you from Strathlarich?
Do you want me to throw you off?
You're welcome to try, Mr Murray,
I don't fancy your chances.
Would you prefer the police?
Ah, well now, the police might be very interested in what I have to tell them.
I telephoned a friend of mine this morning in Glasgow,
and he told me there had been a very bad outbreak of louping ill in Strathlarich.
What of it?
How long have you been here? About two months, isn't it?
(DOG GROWLING)
Come on, girl. Come on. Come here.
There we are. Let's have a look at her.
Here. See?
Just what I thought.
Ixodes ricinus.
Commonly known as sheep tick.
Allow me.
I must say, wonder how Lord Livingstone will take the news
that it's probably his own agent who's infected his grouse moor.
You can't be serious.
I'm deadly serious, Mr Murray.
As things are, all we need is a wet summer,
and they're quite usual hereabouts,
for His Lordship to have nothing at all to shoot at on August the 12th...
Except you.
Of course, you could, if you felt so inclined,
give a helping hand to those farmers over at Yateley.
Why, on the other hand, you can force their sheep off the moor.
You can compel them to cut back the area themselves.
But, you know, I really rather doubt whether they'd do it in time.
If you want grouse in August,
that ground's got to be cleared as quickly as possible.
You've no time to lose.
And, I'm sure your employer would agree to the cost.
I remember him as a generous man.
It's a pity to think of this place
unoccupied all the year round except for a couple of weeks.
Why don't you think about it, like a good fellow?
Good day to you.
(INDISTINCT SPEECH)
(DOOR OPENING)
Well, you can count on the Ministry for all the help needed.
After all it's in everybody's interests.
Goodbye, Mr Murray, and thank you again.
Aye, goodbye.
Ah, Herriot. Good. Won't keep you.
Miss Pattison, give me a moment, then bring in your book.
I've got to write to those people at Yateley.
Come in, Herriot, come in.
Good man, that, Murray.
Didn't take to him at first.
Just goes to show, first impressions.
He wants to help out with this louping ill.
Some people are going to be very relieved...
Very relieved and very grateful.
Now, what were you...
Oh, yes. I remember.
A bit of a poser actually, getting it right.
But still there's no problem without a solution, is there?
Here.
Belated wedding present from the wife and me, my dear fella.
Well, thank you, Mr Harcourt.
Well, Thank you very much.
# Run rabbit, run rabbit
# Run, run, run... #
Well, at least these bunnies gave the farmer his fun.
Is this bounty from your brother, Mrs Hall?
A little thank you, Mr Farnon.
Ah, delicious.
Terribly sorry.
Good to see Mrs Hall on form again.
-Isn't it, though? -Mmm-hmm.
I must say this rabbit does smell most terribly good.
-Mmm. -That's the ticks.
Oh, Tristan!
They're perfectly all right cooked.
He couldn't really have believed he brought louping ill from Scotland?
Who couldn't, Murray? Why not?
His knowledge of parasitology is not profound...
Like your own.