-Hello, young Jimmy. -Morning, Uncle Siegfried.
-Good morning. -(BIRDS SQUAWKING)
-Ah, James, a word before the mob descends. -Siegfried, it's...
James, shunt the preoccupations of the moment to one side.
-We have an important matter to discuss. -Right.
Now, you know that cash is most hellishly tight in the practice at the moment.
Yes. Farmers so busy expanding their businesses, they have no money to pay our bills.
Yes! Well, that's exactly what we should be doing. Take a leaf out of their book.
What, not pay our bills, or expand our business?
The latter, James, the latter. (LAUGHS)
It's not the lack of work we suffer from. Heaven knows
there aren't enough hours in the day to do all that's asked of us.
So how do we take on more? Tristan's not around, except on an informal basis.
Precisely the point.
The time has come to take on a full-time assistant. Fresh blood, James.
Someone trained up under the influence of all the latest advances.
And I think I may have found the very man.
His name is Calum Buchanan. He's the most brilliantly qualified young man.
I heard he wanted to join a practice in the Dales, so I got in touch.
-Very impressive. -Isn't it?
I've sounded him out. He's keen to join us.
But until he settles in, I've asked Tristan to help out whenever he's on leave.
He is bored to death, sitting at that Ministry desk.
You seem to have thought of everything.
-But you approve, James? -Oh, absolutely. Well done, Siegfried.
Well, that's settled. You may safely leave the rest to me. On you go, James.
-Mr Fellowes? Siegfried Farnon. -Uh-huh.
-You'll be t'vitnery from Darrowby, I reckon. -That's it.
I take it you've not used our practice before.
No, him from Scanton usually sees to me.
-Mottram? -That's him.
But I know what he'll say if he sees my horse.
I called you hoping to hear summat different.
Yes, well, of course, I shall have to consult Mr Mottram first,
but a telephone call to his surgery is all it should take.
Look, I've got a horse with a broken leg. It needs seeing to now, vitnery.
Indeed. But the ethical proprieties have to be observed.
The telephone, if you please.
-Helen? -Hello, darling. Slack moment?
-Mmm. I want to talk to you about an idea Siegfried's had. -Hmm?
Well, he thinks we need a new assistant, and he's written
to someone called Calum Buchanan.
-That's wonderful news. -The trouble is...
-He'd have to live here? -Would you mind?
Depends what he's like.
The important thing is, there'd be someone to share the load.
-Still, I suppose he could live in the attic. -Ah. Problem solved.
-We... We were very happy up there, weren't we? -(CHUCKLES)
Nobody's lived in it since 1939, you know.
-It'll have to be completely redecorated. -Oh.
-Oh, we're that broke, are we? -Mmm-hmm. We are borrowing just to keep going.
There's my good man.
It's a fearful injury, Mr Fellowes.
Aye, I knew it were a bad 'un.
Your horse is suffering. We can't allow that to go on.
What, you mean put him down?
It's a dreadful compound fracture. It's beyond healing.
-I'm afraid there's no alternative. -(TUTS)
-Hello. It's Deirdre McEwan, isn't it? -Yes, that's right.
-Tristan Farnon. We're colleagues. -Oh, yes, I've seen you about.
I've been meaning to say hello. How are you finding it so far?
-Fine, thank you. -It's quite a change from Edinburgh.
Well, the work's no different, but this change of scenery is very welcome.
Yes, well, I couldn't wait to get back to the Dales after my stint in the Forces.
I know. It's a wonderful part of the world.
That's mostly why I took the job here in the first place.
Well, perhaps I could give you an insider's tour of the area some time.
Oh, no. I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble, Mr Farnon.
-Tristan. And it's no trouble. -Well, in that case, I'd love to.
Terrific! Well, I'll seek you out when I get back
-in a few days' time, and we'll take it from there. -Fine.
-Well, I'd better get on. -Goodbye, Deirdre.
Goodbye... Tristan.
-Tristan Farnon, isn't it? -Oh, hello, Mr Mottram.
Heard you were with the Ministry these days.
May I ask if you'll be seeing your brother in the near future?
Well, I'll be in Darrowby tomorrow, as a matter of fact.
Perhaps you'd be kind enough to remind your brother
that Mr Fellowes of Scartop Farm
is a client of my practice and not his.
-I'll pass the message on. -Hopefully to some effect.
Good day to you.
A vision, Helen. Every day I see her floating about like the goddess of my dreams,
and I'm wondering how to make the approach. How to break the ice.
So you accost her on the steps at the Min of Ag? Very subtle.
Oh, it's wonderful. She's wonderful.
And we'll be absolutely wonderful together. You'll see.
She sounds smashing, and I hope we meet her very soon.
It's this way she has of looking at you when she speaks.
It's devastating.
-Hard at it, I see. -Oh, welcome, Triss. Even if it is only part-time.
-It's good to be back, James. Hello, Siegfried. -Welcome, dear brother.
And I hope you'll soon be reaping the benefits
of my experience at the heart of the action.
We'll soon be blowing away the cobwebs around here.
Messrs Farnon and Herriot are about to enter the 20th century.
We quail before the fury of your reforming zeal, Tristan.
Think of me as a beacon of knowledge, Siegfried,
here to illuminate the murkier backwaters of the profession.
Oh, very well.
And speaking of murk, what have you been up to with that old devil Mottram?
-Mottram? -Mottram? Since when have we had dealings with him?
Oh, well,
I put down a horse belonging to a client of his a day or two ago.
When I rang the practice, Mottram was already out on his rounds,
so I left a message with the receptionist.
Um...
Well, I was with a distressed animal. I had to act at once.
-He's highly unamused, Siegfried. -Silly man.
I'll go over to Scanton and soothe his ruffled feelings.
Oh, you, Farnon.
-Good day to you, Mottram. -I presume there is some purpose to your visit.
The matter of your client, Mr Fellowes. I thought it best
to call personally, to clear up any confusion.
Somewhat late in the day, don't you think?
It was an emergency situation, Mottram. The animal was in great distress.
-I tried my best to reach you. -Did you?
There was no question of waiting any longer.
Look, Farnon, your conduct verged on the unethical.
Let's leave it at that, shall we?
I came to apologise unreservedly for any offence I may have caused.
Most thoughtful of you.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm rather busy.
-Where does he hail from? -Up north.
He's a graduate of your old alma mater.
Calum?
Not Calum Buchanan, by any chance?
That's right. You don't know him, do you?
Oh, yes. Everyone knew Calum Buchanan in Edinburgh.
-There we are. Thank you. -Thank you. Bye.
Allow me.
You're really sold on having him in the practice, are you?
Absolutely. Why?
Well, time passes, and the remarkable qualities of hot-blooded youth
-rarely survive the passage of time. -Tristan,
if you've got something to say, say it.
Oh, snap him up, James. Calum is quite exceptional.
Just the thing you need to transform your humdrum little ways here in Darrowby.
James, Mrs Pumphrey just telephoned. Can you call and see her this afternoon?
-Anything serious? -Tricki-Woo's gone Flop Bot again.
-Oh, yes. Very serious. -Well, damn and blast.
She always asks me to stay for sherry.
I feel like such a clod turning up in my work clothes. I'll have to change.
-Your suit isn't exactly high fashion. -My only suit.
Mrs Pumphrey adores you. She won't mind.
-It's your irresistible charm, James. -Threadbare though it may be.
Well, it may not impress Mrs Pumphrey, but it might just do the trick
-with the bank manager. -You're seeing Mr Gregson?
Yes. A major grovel. Try and get some cash so we can redecorate the attic.
James?
(ARGUING INDISTINCTLY)
-(KNOCK AT DOOR) -Come in.
-Ah, Mr Herriot. -Hello, Mr Gregson.
-I've just been reviewing... Oh, take a seat, won't you? -Thank you.
Thank you.
I've been reviewing your file,
in light of your expressed need for extra cash.
Yes.
(SIGHS)
Now, Mr Herriot, when you previously arranged borrowing,
-you did assure the bank it would be of short duration. -Yes, that's absolutely...
It seems now that "short duration" is to extend to time indefinite.
Well, the practice will pick up, Mr Gregson.
Hmm.
You're a professional man, Mr Herriot.
-A customer worthy of the bank's support. -Thank you.
But sudden urgent demands for funds over and above agreed borrowing,
and at a time when outgoings exceed income, well...
Well,
it is just this once, actually.
It's to cover the cost of urgent and necessary redecoration.
And I think we can oblige you. Just this once.
Remember, Mr Herriot, we thrive on confidence.
Your confidence in us, ours in you.
Fail us, and you fail yourself.
As it is in banking, so it is in life.
(SIGHING UNHAPPILY)
Hodgekin!
Yes, ma'am?
Are you wanting him inside now, ma'am?
Oh, not yet, Hodgekin. You know Mr Herriot likes to see Tricki well-exercised.
A few more turns round the garden, if you please.
Yes, ma'am.
-Hello, Mrs Pumphrey. -Oh, Mr Herriot, thank heavens you've come.
-Flop Bot again? -Tricki's rear end simply refuses
-to relinquish contact with the ground. -Ah, same problem.
-And the same cause, I expect. -Well, I'm sure I haven't been neglectful.
He's exercised regularly. Hodgekin takes him for a turn round the garden
-at least three times a day. -JAMES: Like that, you mean?
MRS PUMPHREY: Well, yes.
It won't do, Mrs Pumphrey. If Tricki-Woo is to benefit,
he must be allowed to walk on his own legs. Hmm?
-A very good day to you, gentlemen. -How do, Mr Farnon?
And how are you, Mr Buckle?
A bit more in t'pocket afore tha came, vitnery!
In that case, since time is money, we'll press on, shall we?
This way, Mr Farnon. Straight through into t'barn.
It's Polly. She's hurt her shoulder.
-Modernisation's coming on, I see. -Aye, well...
There's no point in just muddling on the same, like in Granddad's day.
You've got to plan for t'future, else you go to t'wall these days.
Well, now that I've emptied his rear gland,
his Flop Bot should ease considerably, Mrs Pumphrey.
-Oh, thank you, Mr Herriot. -Ah, thank you.
What have you been feeding him? He's terribly overweight.
Oh, dear, I know you're going to be cross with me.
-Pate de foie? -Very, very little.
-Caviar? -Only once a week.
-Smoked salmon? -Certainly not!
Only the very freshest salmon,
with the merest hint of sauce hollandaise.
It's all much too rich for him, Mrs Pumphrey.
-There, you see, you are cross with me. -Now listen,
iron rations from now on.
And plenty of exercise is absolutely essential.
That isn't a request, Mrs Pumphrey, that's an order.
-Tricki will become positively mutinous. -Tricki's a very old dog.
Spoiling him is the last thing he needs.
He can't feel all that old.
Only this morning I discovered him
having an affair with a cushion.
Oh, she has knocked herself, hasn't she?
BILLY: Like I say, it's just a simple lesion, Mr Farnon.
Just listen to him, vitnery. A great one for book farming is our Billy.
Science, Granddad, that's the way ahead.
Good farming comes from what tha does, not what tha reads, young fella.
-Times are changing, Mr Buckle. -Aye, I know. I know.
It's all down to t'needles with you fellows now.
-Your stock's never been healthier, Mr Buckle. -Nor the vitnery bills.
Right pocket-killers, your modern miracles, Mr Farnon.
We get what we pay for, Granddad.
Right, well, there's no problem with her pregnancy,
but that shoulder will need some treatment.
Well, you do what you can for her, vitnery. A grand sort is Polly.
Well, Mr Farnon, how do we tackle t'job?
Intravenous or intramuscular shot, or external application, like?
Talk plain, you daft young 'un!
Youth's asking does t'sow need a jab in t'arse, vitnery?
(LAMB BLEATS)
James, you've been invited to join the Milk Sub-committee.
-What? -That's what it says here.
-James! -Good Lord!
-You're coming up in the world, James. -But why me? In fact,
-Siegfried, why not you? -No, no. You're much more of a diplomat than I am.
Besides, I'm not sure that I could afford that particular honour.
What do you mean?
Well, the Sub-committee is made up of the heavy wallet brigade.
One either runs with one's peers, or one loses face.
-(TELEPHONE RINGS) -I'll answer that.
No, don't you worry, James. You accept.
I know you'll fly the flag with honour.
-(RINGING CONTINUES) -SIEGFRIED: Coming! Coming, coming, coming!
-What's wrong? -This. It is an honour, but can we afford it?
It can only do you good, James.
Helen, I have a suit that's falling apart at the seams,
an overdraft that causes alarm bells to ring every time I walk into a bank...
-Yes, but you can't not accept. -I know.
Bert Kealey, James. One of his in-lamb ewes has aborted.
(SIGHS)
Right, I'll be off home, then, Mrs Herriot.
-Thank you, Mrs Greenlaw. -You sure you don't want me to wash them clothes for you?
No, no, you get off. I know you've got a lot to do at home.
Oh, aye. Never done, is it?
Mind, I couldn't be doing with a big old house like this.
It took eight pairs of hands to keep this going in the old days.
-Yeah. Got to be done now, hasn't it? -Aye.
And killing hard it is for you, too, even with me here to help out now and then.
Mind, I could understand if it were your own home.
I suppose you're right. I just never really stopped to think about it.
Well, it must be to your liking, seeing how you stay on here.
Our house may be small, but it's our own.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Still, that's folk, in't it? Always wanting summat different.
Well, I'd best be off. Goodbye, Mrs Herriot.
Goodbye, Mrs Greenlaw, thank you.
JAMES: Bert!
-Thanks for coming out. -I'm sorry I'm too late.
An infection of the womb.
Aye. I knew she were done for the minute I saw her.
Will you get me a bucket of warm water and a towel?
I'll do a fuller post-mortem, and then I'll look at the lamb.
-How is it? -In t'house with Mum.
Loves this time of year, she does.
Gives her a chance to mother all the waifs and strays.
(CHUCKLES)
-(KNOCK AT DOOR) -TRISTAN: It's only me!
In here, Triss.
-Helen? -Triss, something dreadful's happened.
(KNOCK AT DOOR)
-Mrs Kealey? -Mr Herriot!
-This isn't a bad time, is it? -Nay, nay, young man. Come on in.
-(LAMB BLEATS) -Let me get you a cup of tea.
No, you stay where you are. I've just come to see how the lamb's getting on.
-A miracle he's alive. -Come on, out you come.
Reckon we'll build him up till one of t'other ewes can take him on.
He's fine. Going to be spoiled rotten, I bet.
Well, it's the least a useless old woman can do to help out.
Yuck!
(SQUELCHING)
(GROANS)
Ugh.
Yuck!
-I bet it's been tough up here this winter. -We've had better.
But no worse than it's been for t'other folk here.
-What about Bert? -He's taken it very hard, Mr Herriot.
T'youth could do with a bit of a boost. He's been out
in all weathers with that dairy herd.
They're a very fine herd, Mrs Kealey.
-Any news on the TT licence? -Nowt.
But t'Milk Sub-committee'll be meeting soon. We're hoping they'll hear our case then.
It'll mean a few extra pence a gallon, Mr Herriot, and we're badly in need of that.
Well, actually, I've been asked to join the committee.
Perhaps I can put a word in.
You must do as you think best, Mr Herriot.
You know, it takes summat special in a young man
to keep going up here without help.
Be different if his brothers had come back from t'war.
(CHUCKLES) But he's a good lad.
Never give up while there's summat to hope for.
And there's always hope. Isn't that so, Mr Herriot?
-What's this? -Oh! Siegfried!
Redeployment from the Min of Ag to HM Inspectorate of Drains?
I'm looking for Helen's engagement ring, actually.
It's lost, Siegfried, completely vanished.
-Good heavens, what a fearful thing. -She's dreadfully upset.
Not surprising. It cost James almost his entire life savings at the time.
(STRAINING) In sentimental terms, it's priceless.
-(CAT MEWS) -There we are, Mrs Ellis.
Try, if you can, to stop Trixie foraging around too much
in the thorn bushes till that eye heals, all right?
-Thank you. -Goodbye. Goodbye.
-Next, please. -Hello.
-And you are Mr... -Carter. Reginald Carter.
And what seems to be the trouble, Mr Carter?
Well, it's Zara here. My regular vet says she has a serious abdominal complaint
and needs surgery, but... Her age, you see...
Well, I'd rather spare her that if I could,
so I thought I'd take a second opinion.
What practice do you normally attend, Mr Carter?
Mr Mottram of Scanton, actually.
Well, that's all right, isn't it?
Yes, it's perfectly in order to seek a second opinion.
However, we would have to inform Mr Mottram first.
-Tristan? -Can I just have a quick look, Mr Carter?
On second thoughts, I'll do it myself. I shan't be long.
MOTTRAM: Surgery.
Ah, Mottram. Siegfried Farnon here.
I've got a client of yours in the surgery who wants a second opinion.
You've no objection, I take it?
Mottram?
I heard.
SIEGFRIED: And?
You do seem bent on poaching my clients, don't you, Farnon?
What?
Mottram, may I remind you that your client has the right to ask for a second opinion.
Now, if you'd be good enough...
Do as you wish! You will anyway. (SLAMS TELEPHONE)
He's making very good progress, and if you keep up
the good work, he will continue to make very good progress.
-Oh, I will. He's on a strict diet. -Good.
And do you know, instead of Hodgekin taking Tricki for his walk,
it's now dear Tricki who's taking him.
Well, I'm sure Hodgekin enjoys the experience immensely.
You're a very wicked man, Mr Herriot.
You know perfectly well that Hodgekin professes to loathe dear Tricki.
He doesn't really, of course.
At least, I prefer to think so. There we go.
Now, before we have our sherry,
I need your advice on a most anxious matter.
Tell me, what do you think of this?
Why, it's wonderful. Marvellous material.
My husband was most particular about his wardrobe.
The finest cloth, cut only by the most skilful hand.
And it shows.
Most of it I disposed of after he passed on, but this I kept.
It had the most... Particular associations.
But the time has come. It too must depart.
-The question is, do I dispose of it at a jumble? -Mmm-hmm.
Or perhaps find someone who would appreciate
its very excellent qualities?
What do you think I should do?
-Well, difficult to say, really. -I wonder...
-Would you mind holding it up, please? -Yes, of course.
Do you know,
-the colour suits you most wonderfully well. Look. -(CHUCKLES)
See?
-Do you like it? -Well, it's very nice indeed.
Wonderful! My problem's solved. You shall have it.
-Me? -Of course, my husband was a considerably larger man,
but with skilled alteration... You will take it, won't you?
-That's extremely kind of you, Mrs Pumphrey. -That's settled then.
Oh, thank you, Mr Herriot. Yet again I'm in your debt.
No, thank you. Thank you very much.
SIEGFRIED: What a damnable prig that fellow Mottram is!
Good Lord alive, what other practitioner
could possibly object to a colleague being asked for a second opinion?
I positively urge our clients to do it, especially in difficult cases.
Mottram seems to regard it as a personal insult.
Perhaps you've been neglecting the social side of your relationship, Siegfried.
You know, a little professional get-together with the opposition now and then
can oil the wheels, I find.
That's a very acute observation, Tristan.
Ow!
(GROANS)
-Now then, vitnery. Upskittled yourself, I see. -Look at my suit!
Thy pockets must be heavy if tha can wear cloth like that around farms.
-This gate of yours is a menace! -Aye, that's right.
It's only a month back I had that hinge fixed again.
Guaranteed it to Mr Herriot, I did.
Well, I suggest you get it fixed properly before it kills somebody.
Aye, I'll make a note of that, young fella.
-Come for summat, hast tha? -Your calves.
Calves?
You arranged to have your calves nipped, didn't you?
Tha's right. It's me bad memory, it is, you see.
Missus is allus on to me about it.
Well, I'm with you now.
Well, Mottram! What a piece of luck.
I wanted a word with you, actually.
What is it this time? Another of my clients seeking a so-called second opinion?
I'll ignore that, Mottram.
As a matter of fact, it occurred to me that our two practices
might perhaps try to establish less antagonistic relations.
I mean, as matters stand, it works to neither of our benefits.
And whose fault is that, pray?
Let's not point the accusing finger,
but perhaps try to mend a few fences instead.
To which end, my colleague and I would be delighted if you'd dine with us
one night, at a time and place of your own choice.
What do you say to that?
I believe in honourable relations
with colleagues in opposition, so to speak.
But I make it a principle never to indulge in "socialising".
In my book, all this "out to dinner" nonsense
with people from competing practices, particularly yours,
is shallow, insincere and verging on the unethical. Good day, Farnon.
(URGING HORSE)
-Good morning, sir. -Morning.
-Can I help you? -Well, I hope so.
-I did actually buy a ring here once. -Oh?
-About 12 years ago. -Oh, um, really, sir?
Yes, and I'd like something identical. Well, similar, at least.
Well, sir, I'll show you what I've got, and with a bit of luck
we might just find what you're looking for.
-Excuse me. Won't keep you a moment. -Thank you.
These aren't calves, Mr Ripley, they're fully grown bulls!
Aye, they are a bit on t'biggish side.
Do you know, I've never seen owt like the way they put flesh on
once they start eating.
Didn't Mr Herriot tell you to get calves nipped at three months?
Aye, he did, Mr Farnon, I'll grant thee that. He told me that.
Ah, but it's time, you see. It fair races by, with one thing and another.
Oh, never mind. Get one in the crush, or we'll be here all day.
Aye.
Well, there's nothing here, I'm afraid.
Ah. I think I've found the one I want.
-That one, please. -Sure about that, are you?
Mmm-hmm. Positive.
Aye, you've got a good eye, sir.
-A real beauty, this is. -Yes, it is.
May I... Thank you.
-How much is it? -Oh, dear. Half afraid to tell you, sir.
A very special piece, that is, reflected in the price.
(TRISTAN PUFFING AND PANTING)
Do t'beast feel t'pain of t'nippers, Mr Farnon?
He's had an anaesthetic, Mr Ripley. It's me that's suffering!
-Thanks to your negligence. -Aye, tha's right.
I let thee down. Still, this is t'last one.
One more nip.
(GRUNTING)
(RIPLEY LAUGHS)
All that puffing and panting! You chaps don't half put it on, don't you?
Aye, but you can admit it to me. Admit it to me, Mr Farnon.
(SARCASTICALLY) Absolutely, Mr Ripley! I'll show you how easy it is.
I'll position the nippers. All you have to do is close them.
Nay, nay. I don't rightly know about that.
Oh, it's easy, Mr Ripley. You said so yourself!
All set. Off you go.
(GRUNTING)
(PANTING)
Nay, nay, I can't do it, Mr Farnon.
-Your offspring are waiting for their stories. -I am waiting for you.
-James, that's for supper! -Oh, come on, darling.
In for a penny, in for a pound. There we are.
Well, here's to us. (HUMMING)
James, you're behaving very oddly.
-Helen, how can you say that when I'm feeling like this? -Like what?
Well, like getting engaged all over again.
I can't remember the words I used when I proposed exactly, but...
Well...
James!
Try it on.
It's beautiful.
-We can't possibly afford it. -No problem.
-I've got 24 hours to take it back. -Don't you dare touch it!
(BOTH LAUGH)
-(KNOCK AT DOOR) -Come in!
Thank you.
-Hello, Mr Gregson. -Sit down, won't you?
We have a lot to discuss, you and I.
Now, Mr Herriot, I'm sure I don't need to tell a man of your education
that trust is at the heart of the relationship between a client and his bank.
-Of course. -If, for example, you borrow money for one purpose,
and then expend it on something entirely different...
Ah. You mean the engagement ring?
I mean the money lent to cover the cost
of "urgent and necessary redecoration", to quote your own words.
-Hmm. The thing was that... -Then we find a cheque,
considerably in excess of the agreed sum, presented for clearance.
A cheque used to purchase a luxury item of jewellery.
-Yes, well, I... -It's not for me to question the motives
of a married man purchasing such an item,
nor is it my place to speculate on whether the recipient of the said item
is a lady other than your wife...
But it was.
(CHUCKLES)
-Pardon? -The ring. It was for my wife.
Mr Herriot, an engagement ring is usually purchased
before a marriage, not after. At least, in my understanding it is.
Yes, well, I can explain that too, actually.
Yes, there seems to be a lot to explain, Mr Herriot,
one way or another.
-Yes, yes, I'll tell him. -(DOOR OPENS)
-SIEGFRIED: Hello! -Siegfried?
I'm sorry to bother you, but that was a Mr Lumsden, Mr Mottram's locum.
Apparently, Mr Mottram's away on holiday, and his horse has got the colic.
It's a very bad attack, Mr Lumsden says, and he's out of his depth.
Siegfried, I wouldn't ask you, it's just that James and Tristan...
My dear, one must never allow personal antipathy
to interfere with professional conduct.
If an animal is in distress, it's my job to go and relieve it.
-Thank you. -(SIEGFRIED SINGING MERRILY)
(HORSE NICKERS)
Right then, Lumsden. Well, as you know, she's got an obstructive colic.
And I'm going to do exactly what you would do.
I'll need to give her a sedative hypodermic injection
to ease the pain, followed by
a gallon of liquid paraffin by stomach tube to lubricate the impaction,
and then, after a few hours, a hypodermic injection of Carbachol
-to see if we can shift the impaction. Do you agree? -Of course.
Well, I've got everything in the car, if you'd just be good enough...
Oh, and Lumsden?
A big pot of coffee. This is an all-night task, I'm afraid.
JAMES: I can't go to a meeting of the Milk Sub-committee looking like this.
It's that idiot Henshaw.
He said it would spoil it if he altered the height of the waistband. The pockets!
(LAUGHS) Darling, don't panic. Come on. Try it with the waistcoat.
That's it. And the jacket.
There. Now, how does that feel?
Well, it's incredibly hot, actually. I can hardly breathe.
You know, James, it is really rather good.
-Is it? -Yes. As long as you keep the waistcoat done up,
it'll be perfect. Come on, don't panic.
I'm sure you'll impress the committee tomorrow.
(GASPS)
Well, she'll need watching, of course,
but I think this good little mare... What's her name?
-Trader. -Trader? Trader.
She's on the mend.
James and Helen Herriot when we were picnicking up on Scardale Tor.
I'm the one behind the camera.
Fabulous views. Who's the other girl?
(NERVOUSLY) Oh, er, she's a friend of Helen's. Debbie Mount.
-She's very pretty. -Oh, is she? She's working in Australia now, poor thing.
(KNOCK AT DOOR)
-Sorry. I'm not interrupting anything, am I? -No, James, come in.
You've heard me talk about Deirdre McEwan.
Deirdre, this is James Herriot, my friend and colleague.
Tristan's told me such a lot about you.
Well, he hasn't exactly kept silent about you.
-Well, it's very nice to meet you. -And you.
-Tristan, I must be getting back. -Right.
Well, I'll see you later.
-Goodbye, James. -Goodbye.
-I'm sure we'll see each other again. -Mmm.
Very nice, Triss.
-What on earth are you wearing? -Oh, never mind about that.
-I want you to fill me in on the committee. -Ah, yes.
Triss, anything wrong with the heating in this place?
It's normal temperature for government buildings, James.
-Well, I'm roasting hot. -Blame your spartan ways in Darrowby.
Now, as far as your colleagues are concerned, the one to watch is Massingham.
-That's Sir William? -Mmm. Chairman and eminence grise. Any special...
-Pleading, he's the one you'll have to convince. -Uh-huh.
-Siegfried Farnon? -Yes.
-Calum Buchanan. -How are you?
Thank you for taking the trouble to come and meet me.
No, no, no trouble at all... Good heavens, a badger.
Oh, this is Marilyn. She's very friendly.
I see. Well, I'm blowed!
(PLAYING PIANO)
(DOOR SLAMS)
SIEGFRIED: That's the surgery. Let's leave that. There may be something...
Yes, Helen, let me introduce Calum Buchanan,
-who, I hope, will be joining us. -Hello, Calum.
Hello, Helen. It's good to meet you. And who's this?
I'm Jimmy. My sister Rosie's not here, though.
Well, Jimmy, I hope you won't mind me and Marilyn moving into your house.
-Oh, no. Wish they'd let me sleep in the attic. -Who's Marilyn?
Calum's badger. She's in the car.
Well, she's not really "my" badger.
Her mother died, you see, and I've been looking after her
until she's old enough to release back into the wild.
-(TELEPHONE RINGS) -Oh, excuse me.
I heard you playing just now. Do you like music?
-Oh, yes. Can you play? -Hmm, a bit.
(PLAYING SCALES)
-Yes? -Mr Buckle, worried about losing his litter of pigs.
Right.
Oh, Lord, that means we'll have to postpone our tour of the surgery.
-Would you like to come out with me, Calum? -Yes. Why not?
-Come on! Thank you. -I'll see you later, Mrs Herriot.
SIEGFRIED: Now, are you kitted out with the regular garb?
Mr Scott,
Professor Dickson, Dr McTaggart, Commander Carrington-Mason,
and our invaluable secretary, Mrs Hanbury.
And, of course, Mr Smith you know.
Well, Mr Herriot, you've come, same as the rest of us, to do a job of work,
so we'll get on with it.
(CLEARS THROAT) I now declare this meeting open.
Kindly read the minutes, if you will, Mrs Hanbury.
-Afternoon, Billy. -Mr Farnon.
I'd like you to meet Mr Buchanan.
-How do? -Hello.
-I hope Mr Buchanan is going to join the practice. -Oh, aye?
I'd watch your cows in that first meadow back there.
There's dog mercury growing in it. It could affect their milk yields, you know.
Aye, thanks. I'll remember that.
Billy, you said that Polly's farrowing didn't go too well.
No, no. Her milk won't flow, Mr Farnon.
-No milk at all? -Nowt. And I'm afraid her young 'uns will...
Well, peg out unless we do summat about it.
And now we come to the matter of Kealey of Top Farm.
His application for a TT licence.
Did you have something to say on this matter, Mr Herriot?
Yes, I... Yes, I have.
Mr Ch... (CLEARS THROAT)
Mr Chairman,
(BREATHLESSLY) Top Farm has been in the Kealey family for generations.
Bert Kealey now runs the farm,
and has done so since his older brothers died in the war.
Now, in spite of... Several and, erm, many difficulties,
he has managed to build up his dairy herd.
Now, the herd cons...
The herd consists of, um...
They'll surely die off if they don't start to feed.
Now then, mother, let's have a look at you. Let's have a look at you.
Let's get under here. Let's see... Now watch it...
(PIG OINKS)
-Well, there's no mastitis. -Possibly agalactia?
-Almost certainly. -You have a shot of pituitrin?
Yes, I always carry some in case of an emergency.
What about them miracle drugs of yours, then? Can't they do owt?
Yes, Mr Buckle. There's just a chance that science may provide the solution.
Oh.
Hold onto that, would you, Billy, for a moment.
-Oh! -That was the only bottle we had in stock.
-Ye daft young bugger! -Sorry, Granddad, Mr Farnon.
How long to find a replacement?
-Too long, I fear. -I see.
Do you mind if I have a stab at getting a first sucking into them?
By all means.
(BREATHLESSLY) Now, gentlemen, I assure you that Bert Kealey is a very conscientious man.
He's a... A hard worker. He's a real...
A real trier! Now, I've seen his buildings
and they're not perfect by any means,
but I do believe that he really does deserve a chance.
So I do hereby recommend that you... (PANTS) You grant this licence.
You may have to do this yourself in an emergency some time, Mr Buckle,
-so I'll describe exactly what I'm doing. -Aye.
Watch now. All right.
Insert your hand.
Now, gently, mind, ease it along...
Until you come to the cervix.
If the animal's just given birth,
-it should still be open. -I see.
CALUM: Push your fingers
beyond the cervix and waggle her pig bed about.
-Waggle her pig bed? -Yes, like this.
Oh. Oh, I see.
Right. Check Polly's teats, will you please, Billy?
Ruddy miracle happening here, Granddad!
Oh! He's got her milk flowing!
Vitnery, he's got her milk flowing! Oh!
COMMITTEE MEMBER 1: How about that young vet fellow?
COMMITTEE MEMBER 2: You never know with funny dressers like that.
CHAIRMAN: He clearly cares, does that young chap.
Put everything he had into his appeal.
Such passion and honest-to-God conviction, it had the sweat rolling off him in buckets.
You can have your science and your book learning, Mr Farnon.
Me, well, I'll settle for nature's way.
And there's nowt to beat it when t'chips is down.
And he knows that, t'other vet over there. Ruddy marvel, he is.
(CONCERTINA PLAYING WESTERING HOME)
Ah!
-Hello, darling. -Ah, James! Let me introduce
our new colleague, the altogether remarkable Calum Buchanan.
-Hello, James. -Calum.
-Dad, he can play 15 instruments! -Really?
-No, 20. -He can play lots of instruments.
-And Dad, he's got a real, live badger! -ROSIE: Really!
-James, you just missed the musical vet. -Oh, that's a shame.
-Another time, perhaps? -Oh, yes.
-Good Lord, you haven't changed one iota. -Tristan!
So this is where you've been hiding, eh?
And you must meet... Where's Marilyn?
-She went out, I think... -(WOMAN SCREAMS)
Goodness, Mrs Greenlaw! No, you two stay here.
(SCREAMS) Oh!
Up there. A wild animal up the chimney!
Mrs Greenlaw, it's only a pet.
Aye, she's fond of chimneys.
(MAKES BADGER NOISES)
-What are you doing? -I'm mother, calling her to grub.
Argh!
Nice chimney, was it?
-Now, Calum... -Oh, Triss! Don't move, don't move.
Look, it's my ring. Isn't that wonderful?
Good heavens, how on earth did it get up there?
-Quite. -Great Scott! The jackdaws!
Helen?
Was the window open when you took your ring off?
-Yes, it was. -Well, there's your answer.
We've got a pair of jackdaws nesting on top of Skeldale.
They're terrible thieves, especially anything small and bright, like that,
which catches their attention. Particularly when they're nesting.
Thousand pounds to a mousetrap, there's your answer.
MRS GREENLAW: Mr Mottram on the telephone for you, Mr Farnon.
SIEGFRIED: Thank you, Mrs Greenlaw.
Siegfried Farnon.
Hello, Farnon. I've just heard what you did for Trader.
I really... I really am most grateful.
Oh, my dear Mottram...
Young Lumsden admits he could do nothing for the animal.
But for you...
I really don't know how to thank you.
I was very glad to be able to be of help.
I'd very much like to know how you tackled it.
Look, why don't you and your partner come over to supper one evening soon?
That's an excellent idea! Yes, of course we will.
And thank you for taking the trouble to telephone.
Goodbye.
Goodbye, Mottram. Goodbye.
(BOTH LAUGH)
Extraordinary man!
Go on. Go on.
Siegfried? Give me a hand, would you?
-Right, come on then. -Thanks.
Come on.
(GRUNTING)
(SNUFFLING)
-Here he is. -Ah.
Now then, which is the ewe with the stillborns?
-That one. -Had a right job getting Mum to give him up.
(LAMB BLEATING)
Not going to work with that old girl.
Nay, Glen will sort her out.
Has his own way of handling this kind of thing. Glen! (WHISTLES)
(WHISTLING COMMANDS)
He's playing on her instinct to protect t'young, any young.
By the time she forgets about Glen, she'll be paired to that little 'un for good.
Hell of a bright dog, that, Glen.
-Bert. -Glen.
James. Had a letter today from t'Ministry folk.
-They've given me my TT licence. -I thought they might.
Took a bit of help, though, I reckon. Thanks, James.
(BLEATING)