(ALL BLEATING)
(CHICKENS CLUCKING)
Come on, my sweet. There we go. Come on.
There's a good girl. There we go.
There we are.
There's a good girl. Come on. There we are. There we are.
All right, Dolly, all right. There we are.
It's all right. I'll just have a look.
Shh! Darling, it's all right. Shh. Sorry, all thumbs this morning, Mr Hawley.
How did she do this?
I were bringing her mother in to exercise.
I got her as far as the yard when the little one decided to go as well!
Daft bugger.
Didn't bother with the open gate, jumped straight over the wall!
Must have thought she were running at Aintree.
Gave herself a right crack.
Thought it were broke at first.
Oh, no, it's too blooming easy at this age, Mr Hawley.
What is she now? Seven months?
Going on eight.
She's beautiful.
How on earth did you get her away from her mother?
I think Roy Rogers calls it "rustling".
Morning, Mr Hawley.
-HAWLEY: Morning, Mrs Herriot. -(CLEARS THROAT)
HAWLEY: Grand old house is Skeldale, Mr Herriot.
But it's a woman-killer. I'll say that.
Yeah, you're right, Mr Hawley.
Doesn't matter how many fires we have going in there,
it's still cold enough to hang meat in.
Difficult to keep clean, too.
It's impossible!
I'm going to give her an anti-tetanus jab, Mr Hawley.
All right. It's all right. It's all right.
All right.
There we are.
I'll dust it with sulphanilamide. Should do the trick.
Whatever you say, Mr Herriot.
You keeping pigs, Mr Herriot?
Pigs? No. Why do you ask?
(BARKING)
-Morning, James. -JAMES: Calum.
Morning, Mr Hawley.
Morning, Mr Buchanan. (SNIFFS)
Smells like you overcooked that one if you ask me.
Oh, bit gamey, that's all.
Eat it myself when the mood takes me.
Cool, girl.
That's a right fair stink, is that, Mr Herriot.
What's he got in there, sheep's cleansings?
Tripe, Mr Hawley. Just tripe.
Are you all right, Mr Herriot?
-Yes, thanks, Lionel. -Mind that wire there.
You don't need a vet, Lionel,
you need an architect.
Right, where's this calf then?
-Not far now, Mr Herriot. -Right.
Grand milkers, these two.
Why, they make some smashing cheese off them.
It's good milk, isn't it?
Uh, yes. Yes, it is.
All right, Lionel, you get a hold of him for me, please.
-(GRUNTS) -(LOWS)
Excellent. You got him.
-Shh. -Oh.
(LOWS)
He's all right, isn't he, Mr Herriot?
(SIGHS) I'm not sure, Lionel.
I think it's a touch of bronchitis.
He's a bit rough in the lungs.
Don't want him getting pneumonia.
103.
-Shall I drench him? -No, you better not.
He might inhale it.
I'll give him a couple of injections. It should do the trick.
Are you still repairing that road up on Consell moor?
We are that.
Got more potholes than the moon, that bit of road has.
Well, if anyone can mend it, you can, Lionel.
Same as you with stock, eh, Mr Herriot.
-Mr Herriot. -Mmm-hmm?
There's something I wanted to ask you.
Oh, what's that?
Tell you what it is. I fancy going in for pigs in a big way.
-How big? -Just pigs.
Lots of pigs and naught else, and keep them in a proper place.
That'll mean building a piggery, you know.
No need.
Dennis Black's after selling his.
He hasn't done much with it since the war.
And it's been standing empty now for what, nigh on six month.
That'll cost a fortune!
I've got the money.
-My uncle died. -Ah.
It's not a fortune, thou knows, but I could branch out a bit now.
Well, if that's what you really want, Lionel.
I always thought you were happy with the stock you've already got.
-(CHUCKLES) -I mean, how old are you?
Uh, coming up 50.
-Ah. -Mind you, like they say,
you're never too old to have a go at something new, don't they?
My mind's made up. I've got to have a go.
If I don't try, I'll never know, will I?
Absolutely.
Well, good luck, Lionel.
Thank you, Mr Herriot. Thank you.
(PIGS SNORTING)
-Mange? -Well, it's only a touch.
If you remember to put the drops in twice a day,
and wipe it with cotton wool, in a few days it'll be fine.
-Oh, thank you, Mr Herriot. -(MEWS)
She was scratching herself to pieces, poor thing,
didn't know which way to turn.
Well, I'll come and see her again in about a week.
-All right. -Thank you, Mr Herriot.
You've got a lovely house, Mrs Dryden.
And your garden's a treat.
Aye, it is that.
But I'm leaving soon.
Oh, really? Why's that?
Well, the top and the bottom of it is I need the money.
Robert didn't leave me very much when he died.
Where are you gonna live then?
With my sister, in Houlton.
I'll be all right there,
but, um,
I'll be sorry to move the house.
I'm putting it up for sale, you see. (SIGHS)
How much are you asking for it?
Well, I'm hoping to get £2,000.
It'll come in right handy for me old age, I can tell you.
Mrs Dryden, I don't suppose you'd consider selling it to me, would you?
Yeah, I would if I could, Mr Herriot,
but all the arrangements have been made.
It goes up for auction at the Drover's Arms a week next Wednesday.
Is anybody after it?
Not as I know of, no.
A week on Wednesday.
Aye, a week on Wednesday it is.
Right.
-Bye, Mrs Dryden. -Bye.
Mr Bootland?
I suppose you're Herriot, are you?
That's right.
-You telephoned about a dog. -Aye, that I did.
Damn thing's got distemper.
I want you to take it away and get rid of it.
I would have shot it myself if gun weren't in for an overhaul.
This way.
Come on, Malcolm,
-there's still a big gob under the wheel arches. -(CLANKS)
We don't want the damn thing going rusty, do we?
-No, Dad. -No.
Not many around here can afford one of them things.
Cost me 300 quid, it did.
I bet the buggers will want to borrow it.
Well, I just hope they don't hold their breath, that's all.
BOOTLAND: There you are.
I know hard pad when I see it.
Take it away with you and put it down
before he gives it to the rest of dogs.
Let me be the judge of that, Mr Bootland.
Aye, that's what we pay you for, isn't it?
I'm delighted to be able to tell you
that your dog has not got distemper.
What he has got is a swollen pad.
It's a splinter, or a wire.
Hardly warrants the death sentence, would you say?
If they can't pay for their keep,
best get rid of them, that's what I say.
That goes for your son, too?
Well, get on with it, man.
Earn thyself a few bob.
Cannot stand around jawing all day.
I'm to carry on, am I?
Suit thyself.
I'll give it one last chance.
Five bob that dog cost me.
If your bill comes to more than that,
it's you who pays it.
-(MOOING) -SIEGFRIED: Rupe! Will!
Anybody here?
(HONKING)
Rupe!
Will!
It's the vet!
Ah, Rupe! There you are.
Is that you, Mr Farnon?
Yes, Rupe, it's me! Got it in one!
-Morning, Mr Farnon. (CHUCKLES) -Morning, Will.
You'll have to excuse my brother, Mr Farnon.
His eyes are that bad, he can't see his own shoes no more!
Uh, that's a load of old taters, Mr Farnon.
Eyes are as good as his, if not better.
He can only read headlines in the paper.
I've come to test the cows. Aren't they ready?
They're not in.
He hasn't kept them in.
What's it got to do with me?
I told you the postcard said it were today!
It were me who said it were today!
WILL: Fetch card from house and let's have a look at it then!
How can I do that, you daft beggar?
You burnt it!
That's perfectly all right. There's nothing to worry about.
I'm here, the cows are just over there in the field.
It can't take long to bring them in, surely.
Yeah, you're right there, Mr Farnon, door's open.
I'll soon call them in. (CHUCKLES)
(COWS MOOING)
Come on, spotty nose, come on, big lugs!
Come on, mucky tail!
Come on, fat tits!
Come on, fuzzy top! Let's be havin' ye!
You must excuse my brother, Mr Farnon.
I keep telling him not to call the cows such daft names. (CHUCKLES)
WILL: Come on, long legs!
Come on, slow coach!
Come on, dopey!
Come on, mangle!
Come on, string bag!
RUPE: Come on, Mae West!
Come on, princess!
Come on, Rolls-Royce!
(LAUGHS) Come on, woodbine!
God, grant me patience in my hour of need.
(ALL SNORTING)
I'm coming, I'm coming! That's all you buggers think about.
I just hope you're turning this lot into bacon, that's all.
Its stones haven't dropped.
He's as wild as a zebra.
I'd end up in plaster if I rode this thing.
(THUDDING)
He's not a slot machine, Mr Bootland, and those aren't pennies.
No, they're not pennies.
They're guineas. All 50 of them.
That's what this animal cost me.
(CHUCKLES)
Well, can you make them drop?
Tch.
He's a three-year-old, isn't he?
Aye, but he doesn't think that.
Well, I can try some hormone treatment.
I can give him two or three injections of testosterone,
see if that'll bring them down.
If not, it would have to be surgery.
Which is cheapest?
Well, the injections, naturally.
-Well, then you'd better give him one, hadn't you? -Right.
I'd look well in a ditch with Lord Broughton looking down, wouldn't I?
Ah, you ride with the Darley Dale, do you?
Man and boy.
-Only for them who can afford it. -(CHUCKLES)
Where's Herriot? I asked for him.
Uh, Mr Herriot? He's...
I suppose he's too busy slaughtering something.
I just come home from work to feed them,
and I knew right away there was summat up.
-What were the symptoms? -They hadn't been doing right now.
Not thriving like the others, you know?
Kind of crumbly on their back legs and scouring a bit.
-And when I found that dead one, I worried. -(WATER SPLASHING)
-All right, let's have a look at the others. -Ah.
(SNORTS)
Where did you get this lot?
Haverton market.
They seemed a right good level bunch when I got them,
but by God, they've gone down a piece.
Now I've got a dead one on me hands.
106.
-That's bad, isn't it? -Yes, it is bad, Lionel.
Well, I'll open up the dead one, have a look inside.
I'll just get my knife.
-(PATTING) -(PIG SNORTS)
Thinking of buying a new place, are you, Mrs Herriot?
You can trust me, Mrs Herriot.
Something you put in my mind, Mrs Greenlaw.
Not that it didn't fall on very fertile ground.
Well, folk have to do as they think best for theirselves.
Well, I'd hate to leave this house. It really is lovely.
Especially in the summer.
But quite apart from sharing it
with Mr Buchanan and his menagerie,
there's the rest of Darrowby and their dogs and cats and sheep and goats.
I'm quite sure James would like to live away from the job too.
Aye, well, that's the way I'd like it, to be sure.
I'd appreciate it if you kept it under your hat for the time being, Mrs Greenlaw.
I'm just having a look at what there is for what we've got.
(CHUCKLES) Not a very encouraging business.
I'm sorry about this, Lionel.
I'm gonna have to report this to the ministry.
A suspected case of swine fever.
Oh, hell.
Well, I can't be certain till they confirm it.
And I'll get this sample sent off to the laboratories in Surrey.
Is there naught that you can do to cure them?
No. It's a virus, you see.
No known cure yet.
What about the others? Does it spread?
Spread? It spreads like wildfire.
So from now on, you take every precaution.
You keep a tray of disinfectant outside the pen,
dip your boots every time you walk in. All right?
What happens if me other pigs get it?
How many of them's gonna die?
Well, the mortality rate is extremely high.
I could be wrong about this, you know.
Well, If you are, it'll be the first time, Mr Herriot.
Bless me soul, if it isn't Mr Tristan Farnon himself
come to treat the sick, the lazy and the lame!
Afternoon, Mr Stott. How are you keeping?
All right as nine pence, Mr Farnon. Right as nine pence.
I were expecting Mr Siegfried.
It were him who answered the phone.
Yes. Well, Mr Siegfried's got a case of undescended testicles to contend with.
(STOTT LAUGHS)
Well, tell him from me to drink rhubarb water and chew on a copper nail.
That'll put him right. You mark my words.
It's a horse, Mr Stott.
Well, it's good for man and beast, that one.
Yes, I'm sure it is. Shall we go and see this cow of yours?
Aye, we will at that, Mr Farnon. We will at that.
-(COW MOOING) -(TRISTAN GRUNTS)
(CLICKS TONGUE)
(SIGHS)
What's up, Mr Farnon?
What's up, Mr Stott, is that
I cannot for the life of me find anything wrong with her.
Well, no wonder.
You see, there's naught wrong with her.
(LAUGHS DERISIVELY) Naught at all!
Now, now, Mr Farnon, I know you can take a joke!
Well, there's naught like a good laugh now and again, eh? (LAUGHS)
This is the cow I really want you to look at.
She's got a touch of slow fever.
She's got that sweet smell about her and she's losing flesh.
Sounds like it. I'll just check her over.
-(CLICKS TONGUE) -(SIGHS)
(HUMMING)
Could you pass me that spoon, please?
Spoon? What the hell for?
Is there something wrong?
Uh, it's maybe nothing. Could be nothing at all. Don't worry.
Just get me the spoon, please?
My God, it's there!
I thought I heard it.
What's there? What are you talking about?
The tinkle.
"The tinkle"? What bloody tinkle?
It's a tinkling sound you get in displacement of the abomasum.
Displacement of the what? What the hell's that?
It's a condition, very rare, mind you,
where the fourth stomach, or abomasum,
slips round from the right side to the left.
I'm awfully sorry, Mr Stott, but it's a very serious ailment.
Oh. What about that sweet smell?
I mean, that's slow fever. I'd know that anywhere.
Well, yes, you do get that acetonemia smell with a displacement.
It's very easy for the layman to confuse the two things.
Oh, my God. Well, what's gonna happen now?
(SIGHS) Well, I'm afraid she'll have to undergo a very large operation.
It's much too big for me alone.
I'll have to get another vet.
Yeah, but, Mr Farnon...
Uh, but what about...
You see, Mr Stott, one of us has to open up the right side,
and the other, the left.
I'm afraid it's a very big job indeed. (SIGHS)
And it'll cost a fortune as well, won't it?
I'm afraid so, Mr Stott. (SIGHS)
Oh, my God!
Yeah, but, what about after the operation?
I mean, is she going to be all right?
I can't guarantee it, I'm sorry to say,
but most of them do quite well.
Most of them?
What happens if you don't operate?
Well, in that case, she'll just waste away and die.
Well, you can see she's losing flesh already.
I know how you feel, Mr Stott.
It's a big operation. Really major surgery.
You could always send her in for slaughter, if you like.
Send her in for slaughter? I mean, she's a damn good cow!
I'm not sending her in for slaughter.
All right then.
Let's get on with the job. I'll phone the surgery,
and either Mr Siegfried or Mr Herriot will come with the equipment. (SIGHS)
Oh, my God.
It's all right, Mr Stott.
I'm just kidding.
-(WHISPERS) What? -I'm kidding.
I'm just kidding. It's my idea of a joke.
She's only got acetonemia.
A couple of bottles of glycerine and she'll be fine!
I'll go and get them from the car.
I know you can take a joke.
Like you say,
there's naught like a good laugh now and again, is there?
Mmm-hmm.
40 guineas, Mr Herriot.
But I paid 50 for it!
And that was only a month ago.
I thought you told me that it would appreciate in value.
Oh, it will, Mr Herriot, if you keep it long enough.
But you're selling and I'm buying, if that's what you want.
You know, I had no idea
that marketplace ethics extended to the family jeweller.
40, Mr Herriot. That's the best I can do.
I'll take it.
(CLICKS TONGUE) How can anybody be expected
to understand these ministry forms?
Have you read this? Why can't they use plain English?
Oh dear.
Come on, then. Let me try.
I just want to be left to get on with my own job,
and to hell with the paperwork.
Come on, James, it's got to be done.
If it is swine fever and you failed to report it, think of the consequences.
God! The Min of Ag will be down here like a shot,
trace the blunder back to me.
It's Lionel, you see.
He's sunk every penny he's got into that piggery.
It could ruin him, you know?
Oh yes, I see what they mean.
(CHUCKLES) What would I do without you?
Who knows?
I saw Mrs Dryden the other day.
-Said she was selling up. -Oh, yes?
Mmm-hmm, selling her house and going to live with her sister.
Beautiful garden with that house.
Mmm, so I hear.
Good day in Broughton?
Yes, quite good.
Um, about Lionel's pigs,
are they Large Whites or Large Yorkshires?
-Large Yorkshires. -Oh.
"Large Yorkshires."
(EXHALES)
But you live in a perfectly respectable house already, Mr Herriot.
I can't, for the life of me, think why you want to buy another one.
Mr Gregson, that "perfectly respectable house," as you call it,
is a rambling pile with all the attributes of a wind tunnel.
Besides, it doesn't belong to us. It belongs to Mr Farnon.
And with the best will in the world,
we can hardly expect him to let us live there rent-free forever.
But you're asking me to loan you £1,900, Mr Herriot.
With absolutely no security.
Security?
I have trusted you with my money for over 10 years.
All I'm asking is that you trust me with some of yours for a change.
Mmm.
Well...
In the light of your reselling the ring,
a flippant purchase, if I may say so,
I, we, the bank, that is,
would be prepared to extend your overdraft
to £1,500.
That is, £600 you owe already,
plus, another £900.
£900?
I couldn't buy a Dutch barn for that kind of money, Mr Gregson, and you know it!
Judging by your description of Skeldale house,
I'd say there wasn't much to choose between the two.
Stay where you are, Mr Herriot.
At least you're living rent-free.
That would be the prudent thing to do.
I'll take the money. Thank you.
So be it, Mr Herriot.
So be it.
Dropped yet, have they?
Not yet, Mr Bootland. Not yet, they haven't.
But they will, won't they, young man?
You've got a fine animal there, Mr Bootland.
Has he got a good leap in him? What's he like over the fences?
Wouldn't know. Haven't tried him yet.
-(HORSE SNORTS) -Might not neither.
Why on earth not? If ever a horse was bred for the field, he was.
Well, you what they say,
"Once a rig, always a rig."
He could have 10 stones.
Wouldn't make a slight bit of difference.
Once they've got it into their mind to be flighty, naught will change them.
No, no, no, no. Don't agree with that at all.
Once he's back to normal,
you've got a horse here who'll head the field.
If you like him that much,
make me an offer.
What?
I don't know what to say. You... You caught me on the hop.
(STUTTERS) I thought I was getting him right for you to ride.
75 guineas, nuts and all.
You pay your own bills, mind.
I shall need time to think about it, Mr Bootland.
Come on,
you vets are rolling in it!
We might be rolling in something, Mr Bootland,
but it certainly isn't money.
Let me think about it, will you?
You do that.
Well, well, well.
-Hi, Tris. -James.
-Oh no, not another dead pig. (SIGHS) -Yep.
Lionel was just wheeling it out when I arrived.
Still no confirmation from the ministry?
-(SIGHS) -Nope.
Oh to hell with this. I'll go and jazz them up a bit.
(DIALLING)
Susan, darling, Tristan Farnon.
Yes. Look, I need to get through
to the swine fever boffins pronto.
Would you? You're an absolute angel. Thanks.
Patterson? Farnon here, A.I.
Look, I've got a chap who's rather anxious about his S.F. results.
I wonder if you...
Super.
Mmm? Uh, Brough, Lionel.
(CLOCK CHIMING)
(SIGHS)
Really?
Well, that's very good news! Thanks, Patterson. I owe you one.
Negative, James!
That's impossible! They had swine fever written all over it.
-And so does this one. -That's what the boffins say.
Look, uh, would you mind if I came out with you tomorrow?
I'd rather like to have a look at this one myself.
Yes, thanks, Tris. Look, why don't you stay the night?
And eat one of Helen's memorable dinners? Done.
Next to seeing Deirdre again,
that's the most delightful event on my social calendar.
-Ah. -Uh, where is the cook of my life, by the way?
-She's in Broughton. -Ah.
And since I'll have to ask the cook of your life
to help me with this rotten job,
why don't you take evening surgery?
Mr Teasdale, I'm beginning to suspect
you've got the wrong idea in your head
about the financial status of a country vet.
But times are good in the farming business, Mrs Herriot.
I've every confidence in your husband's future.
Well, that's very encouraging, Mr Teasdale, um...
Unfortunately, it doesn't secure us a loan.
Ah.
Good evening, ladies and gent...
Nice dogs.
-Good dogs. -(DOGS BARKING)
Calm down!
For God's sake, did you hear me? Calm down!
Hello! Is anybody there?
Does anyone own these wonderful beasts?
Can anyone hear me?
Will someone come and take these bloody dogs away?
Oh, my God.
(BARKING CONTINUES)
-(GASPS) -Tristan, are you all right?
Of course I'm not all right!
Those blasted dogs nearly had my hide.
Which blasted dogs?
Those devils incarnate in there!
(DOGS BARKING)
(GASPS) Calum!
Oh, there you are, boys! (CHUCKLES)
This is where you've been hiding.
Been hiding?
What, do you mean these dogs are yours?
Oh, not mine exactly, more Deirdre's.
Deirdre's?
Yes. They're Deirdre's dogs.
I'm looking after them for her while she's away.
-Siegfried! -SIEGFRIED: Yeah?
-Come and have a drink. -SIEGFRIED: Uh-huh.
-Snap out of it, Tris. -It's a damn cheek, James.
I mean, I actually work with the woman.
Why can't she entrust her dogs to me while she's away?
Well, perhaps she thinks he'll feed them with roast duck.
Hello, Tristan, had a good day?
Perfectly filthy, thank you.
Thank you, James. That'll be very welcome.
Siegfried, Lionel's pigs.
And what the hell is the Min of Ag playing at?
Now, can you tell me how they diagnose swine fever
from those samples we sent them?
Oh, yes, James, I'll tell you exactly. It's perfectly simple.
They take the length of bowel
-out of the little box that we send them. -Mmm-hmm.
And then they chuck it up against the ceiling.
If it sticks there, it's swine fever.
-If it falls, it isn't. That's all there is to it. -Ah.
Don't be too hard on the Ministry boys, Siegfried.
Don't forget they've got to be 101% certain before they confirm.
They'd look damn silly if they were wrong.
Tris, it's a textbook case.
I'm not so sure. Lots of things can look like swine fever.
By the way, did you know these damn dogs belong to Deirdre?
And... And Calum's fostering them?
Well, I think it's unethical.
Oh, my poor little brother.
"A mighty pain to love it is,
"and 'tis a pain that pain to miss."
"But of all pains, the greatest pain
"It is to love..."
-BOTH: "But love in vain." -(SIGHS)
(ALL SNORT)
JAMES: What do you think? TRISTAN: It can't be anything else.
It's got to be swine fever.
What the hell are we gonna do?
As far as I can tell, there's only one solution.
He's got to slaughter the whole lot.
If I were him, I'd get Jeff Mallock up here right away.
Some of them aren't even infected.
Look at the end pen and this one.
-Not a sign. -They could go down overnight.
£5 to a blood orange if we came back this time tomorrow,
the whole place would be like a mortuary.
He'd be ruined.
There's no discrimination where swine fever is concerned. (SIGHS)
Suppose we let him send the healthy ones for slaughter?
Well, strictly speaking, we don't have a case of swine fever
until it's confirmed by the labs.
So we could at least save some of his bacon, so to speak.
Better tell him.
Well?
You're going to have to slaughter every healthy pig in the place, Lionel.
But there's hardly any of them ready yet.
There's in-pig sows and all sorts.
I know, Lionel, but if the disease is confirmed,
you may well lose the lot. Every last one of them.
You're already under restrictions,
you can't send any of them to market.
I'll give you a licence so you can send the healthy ones for bacon.
I'll even sign it myself.
Aye, but I...
Look, Lionel, once it gets to the other pigs,
Mr Herriot won't be allowed by law to give you a licence.
Now this way, we'll save you at least a couple of thousand pounds.
It's either that, or just watching them die.
What about the bacon pigs, the porkers?
I'd get a damn sight more for them in a couple of months' time.
JAMES: Well, if swine fever is confirmed, you won't get a penny.
So what do you want,
see them properly slaughtered or wasting away, like the others?
And what if it isn't swine fever?
Well, then it'll be costing you thousands
instead of saving you thousands.
Aye, I can see that. But you think it is?
Well, I'm not allowed to make an official diagnosis,
but in my own mind, I'm sure it is. (SIGHS)
Right, Mr Herriot.
You better start making the licence out.
I've got a bit of faith in you.
(GRUNTING)
(SIGHS)
I'd high hopes for this place when I set out.
Look at it.
It's all come down to this.
You'll be back at it, Lionel. I know you will.
What do you want me to do with them, Mr Farnon?
Cremate them. The lot of them.
I've seen what stagnation of the lung can do with the beast,
but this swine fever, it's a right killer.
And you'll have to disinfect this place from top to bottom, Lionel,
you know that, don't you?
Perhaps I should just make a bonfire of the whole damn place, eh?
After that little lot, you know what I'd like?
-A very stiff gin. -You've said it.
Chance would be a fine thing. The pubs are shut.
I know one that isn't. Let's go to the Drover's.
What's this, James? Darrowby been granted free state licence suddenly?
You'll see.
It's a fine animal. You know that, Malcolm?
Are you sure your dad wants to sell him?
Yeah, he'll sell him all right if there's a few bob in it for him.
Anyway, it's better.
He'd only ride the poor bugger into the ground,
than knacker him for dog meat.
I get the impression
the farming life doesn't altogether agree with you, am I right?
I don't agree with farming.
Not his way of doing it anyway.
I don't even draw a wage. Gives me my board and keep
and a few quid every month, and that's it.
Well...
Malcolm, tell your dad I'll be back in about three days,
and that one more injection should do the trick.
And tell him, will you...
That I've thought it over.
And I'm very interested.
-He'll know what that means. -I'll write it down for him.
What is this, James?
Like the sign says, it's an auction.
(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION)
JAMES: Two double gins, please.
-BARTENDER: Two double gins. -Please.
-Cheers. -Down the hatch.
-Afternoon, Mr Herriot, Mr Farnon. -Hello, Mr Hartley.
Hello, Mr Hartley.
-Thinking of bidding, are you? -Bidding for what, Mr Hartley?
Mrs Dryden's place.
-Lovely little house, that. -I didn't even know she was moving.
She's going to live with her sister in Houlton.
Ideal house for a small family.
James, you're not thinking of bidding, are you?
Well, I thought I'd pop in, see how the bidding went.
No one after it apparently.
It could go for a knock-down price, you know?
Mmm, not with old Bootland here, it can't.
Wants it for his Malcolm.
Keeps telling everybody the lad's getting wed.
I think he ought to ask him first.
Very well.
See you, Albert.
-Cheers. -HARTLEY: Rolling in brass.
Tight old sod won't part with it, though.
Here, there's our Albert. I must catch him while he's still sober.
-Cheerio, gents. -Bye, Mr Hartley.
-James? -Hmm?
I suspect you're about to commit a dreadful blunder.
You're going to bid, aren't you?
I don't know. I just thought I'd like to see how it went, that's all.
James, you're broke!
You don't have the kind of money to go bidding on houses!
Come on, Tris, where's your sense of adventure?
Just let me get it, then I'll worry about paying for it.
If you want my advice, you want to send a sample of your brain tissue
to the Ministry of Agriculture,
check for signs of insanity running in your family.
Insanity does not run in my family.
It gallops.
(SIGHS)
(GAVEL BANGING)
Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.
Nice to see such a good crowd here today,
and I trust my host is feeling the benefit as well.
Which brings me to the purpose of today's business,
the sale, by public auction,
of Dunmore, Brooklane, Darrowby,
a charming semi-detached house, comprising three bedrooms,
dining room, kitchen, sitting room, bathroom,
and 70-foot garden,
all in a well-kept condition, and the property of Mrs Dryden,
as I'm sure most of us know already.
Now,
who'll start me off with 1,000?
I'm looking for a start at 1,000 anywhere.
1,000 it is. 1,000 I'm bid.
1,200 anywhere? I'm looking for 1,200.
1,200 for this charming property?
1,200. 1,200 I'm bid.
1,500 anywhere. I'm looking for 1,500.
1,500 it is. The bid's with you, sir.
1,750 anywhere? I'm looking for 1,750.
You're mad. We should get up and leave right now!
-What's got into you, James? -Please. I know what I'm doing.
AUCTIONEER: 1,750. 1,750 I'm bid.
The bid's with you, sir, at 1,750.
Who'll make it 2,000? 2,000 anywhere?
-I'm looking for 2,000. -1,850!
2,000.
AUCTIONEER: 2,000. 2,000 I'm bid.
Any advance on 2,000?
2,250 anywhere? I'm looking for 2,250.
That's enough, James!
You'll have to mortgage the practice for the next 10 years!
-AUCTIONEER: 2,250. Do I hear 2,500? -(SIGHS)
-Do I hear 2,500? -2,500.
2,500 it is.
Three. 3,000.
AUCTIONEER: 3,000. 3,000 I'm bid.
3,500 anywhere?
The bid's with you at £3,000.
3,500 anywhere?
3,500.
AUCTIONEER: 3,500. The bid's with you at 3,500.
Who'll make it four? Four anywhere?
3,500.
Will you make it four, Mr Herriot? Will you make it four?
-AUCTIONEER: Four anywhere? -(EXHALES)
I'm looking for £4,000.
Then it's 3,500 once.
3,500 twice.
(BANGING GAVEL) Bootland.
(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION)
(EXHALES)
You look as white as a sheet, you know that?
What on earth did you do it for?
Man's natural urge for excitement? Something like that.
Well, next time, volunteer for a ride on the wall of death, will you?
I think it'd be considerably safer.
-I think we should be going now, don't you? -Hmm?
What did you run me up for?
Run you up? I was bidding, Mr Bootland.
It seems that I had a limit and you didn't.
-That's all there is to it. -All there is to it?
It just cost me one and a half over its price, that's all.
Oh. Think of the value, Mr Bootland.
Think of the value.
Right. (SIGHS)
Mr Herriot!
-Mr Herriot! -JAMES: Hello, Mrs Dryden.
Hello, Mr Farnon. Saw you at the back, I did.
Mrs Dryden.
I'm sorry you didn't get the house.
But I'm right pleased it went for all that!
I've got all that extra money to put by me now,
and it's all thanks to you.
Ah, It wasn't me, really.
It'll make all the difference in the world to me.
I can't thank you enough, Mr Herriot.
-Shall we go? -Yes, James.
-Oh, just one thing, Tris. -Yes?
-Not a word to Helen, eh? -What about?
-The auction. -What auction?
JAMES: Lionel?
Oh, hello, Mr Herriot.
You're making hell of a good job of this place.
If any germs live through this lot, they'll be worth keeping.
This came this morning from the Ministry.
Aye, you were right then. It was swine fever.
Mmm-hmm.
So it's a good job we did what we did.
I got a good bit for them pigs I managed to send in.
If I had hung on, I'd have got naught.
I'm grateful to you.
Truly grateful.
Do you know something, Mr Herriot? (GRUNTS)
I want to start up again.
I want to fill the place up.
I can't stand seeing it stood empty like this.
After that last lot, I thought you'd be put off for life.
No, I still have this feeling I want to be in pigs.
I'm just a bit worried it might not be clean enough.
I disinfected it twice from top to bottom
with Jeyes Fluid and washing soda.
I'm sure it's perfectly safe.
Right. I'll get started then.
Here we go.
She should be quite all right.
You see, what happened was,
when they took her tail off a week ago,
it got a little bit infected.
So will you bring her to see me again in a couple of days?
There you are. Mind the tail.
Take her... That's it.
There you are.
Hello, Louise. All right?
Bye.
Animal.
Tom Stone docking them with his teeth again?
Looks like it, James.
I just wish to heaven he'd get himself a clean set of dentures.
Siegfried, Lionel's starting up again.
-Is he? Pigs? -What else?
Well, even after a bad harvest, James,
you have to sow again.
Well, who's gonna sow the next time?
The pigman cometh, James.
The pigman cometh!
SIEGFRIED: Mr Bootland?
Mr Bootland?
Malcolm!
Now then, old lad... Where...
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
Ah, Mr Bootland, good morning.
Where's he gone?
Gone? Where's who gone?
The colt.
Oh, that thing.
Got rid of it.
I noticed a couple of days ago its stones had dropped.
Thought I might as well while there was still something in it for me.
But I asked Malcolm to tell you that I was interested.
I've brought the money with me!
He said he'd leave you a note.
Aye, the chump left a note all right.
Packed his bag and gone he has.
Gone? Gone where?
To join the bloody air force, that's where.
Well...
I'm not at all surprised, Mr Bootland.
Good day to you.
(PIGS SNORTING)
Oh, no.
I don't think you'll find a better bargain anywhere, Mrs Herriot.
I'm sure I won't, Mr Teasdale.
The problem is, I had no idea about the price of property around here.
I hadn't realised it was so expensive.
Oh, it's all relative, Mrs Herriot.
To a chequebook, no doubt.
Look, Mr Teasdale, you've already been very kind
in showing me what you've got,
but I don't think
I'll take this exercise any further, if you don't mind.
-As you wish, Mrs Herriot. -Thanks.
LIONEL: I'd just got home from work,
they were in a hell of a state
laid out all over the place.
What do you mean, "laid out"?
On their sides, kicking and slavering.
And when they got up, they just staggered about and fell back down again.
I think that swine fever has come back again.
(PIGS SNORTING)
-See? -When the hell did this happen, Lionel?
They were right as a bobbin this morning,
bellowing for their grub as usual.
When I come home, they were like this.
Well, it's too blooming sudden. I don't know what's that.
Yeah, that's what plumber said when he saw them.
What plumber?
Well, I noticed this morning they'd got no water, so I sent Fred Buller up.
He reckoned there was a blockage in the main.
Anyway, he's fixed it now.
Are you saying they've been out of water for most of the day?
-I reckon they must have been. -Well, that's it! Come on!
-Let's try and get that one on his feet. -I'm not with you.
Water! They've been without water.
That ought to make them thirsty.
Well, they're not thirsty. It's salt poisoning. Now, come on, drink.
-(SQUEALS) -Come on!
You see, without water, the salt in the pig meal
causes a higher concentration of salt in the brain, and it gives them fits.
-(SQUEALS) -(GRUNTS)
-She's had next to naught, this one. -That's all right.
Too much makes them worse. Lionel, have you got a spare pair of wellies?
-Yeah. -Right. Let's get them.
-And get me a bucket of water, would you? -All right.
Eh, come on, them's me best wellies.
Were your best wellies.
Well, right, this one will do first. Come on.
All right. Put the water in.
JAMES: Good, Lionel. One more.
And the next.
This is a right funny carry on, is it, Mr Herriot?
If Iron Duke could see us now, eh?
Right.
This is it.
All right.
Well, we can't do any more.
Up to them now.
Fancy going to the house for a cup of tea?
Good idea.
Pigs, eh?
(CLICKS TONGUE)
It never ceases to amaze me what some people will pay for a house these days.
-You know the old vicarage in Mickledale? -Mmm-hmm.
-Guess what it's sold for. -5,000?
-7,500! -Oh.
I always thought this was the pint of bitter belt.
And you know Mrs Dryden's semi, in Darrowby?
Well, guess what that's just fetched at auction?
-I have no idea, darling. How much? -£3,500.
Can you imagine anybody paying that kind of money, for a semi, of all things?
Oh, I don't know. There are still a few lunatics left on the loose out there.
Sorry I'm late, folks. Permission to imbibe.
Is that champagne?
It is indeed,
and we are all about to partake of same.
-Thank you. -There we are.
Vintage stuff, this.
One bottle der Fuhrer didn't manage to break.
Where on earth did you get it from?
Dick Harrington.
He gave it to me for mending his Labrador.
-Thanks. -Mmm, right.
-Now. -So what are we celebrating, Calum?
Are they moving the Braemar gathering down here?
-My new abode. -Your what?
My new abode. Yes, I'm leaving Skeldale.
I've found myself a lovely wee two-up two-down in Darrowby.
Plenty of room for the animals, and not only that,
it's got an old wash-house with a boiler where I can boil my tripe in peace.
I'd consult the watch committee about that, if I were you.
Who does the house belong to?
A farmer called Bootland.
He'd just bought it at auction.
Well, slainte mhath.
-Cheers, Tris. -Cheers.
Oh, and peace and goodwill to the Herriots.
-I hereby return the house to them. -JAMES: Thanks.
That piggery was all right, but that salt job really gave me a shock,
and that's a nasty feeling at my time of life.
Billy Fothergill's taking them over now.
Feels like branching out for himself, like.
And you've stocked up here again.
Couldn't stand the sight of that hut standing empty like that.
Had to fill her up again.
Missed me nanny-goats, I did.
JAMES: Only two pigs now, Lionel?
LIONEL: Aye.
I reckon that's enough. Don't you?