-Mrs Coates. -The same.
What's going on?
Couple next door moving.
They've got a lot of furniture to shift.
Well, in that case, I think I'll back up and go round by the river.
Take a look in the mirror.
-Forty winks, then. -Er... Mr Farnon...
While you are stuck here, would you take a look at my Wolfie?
Well, er...
Yes, of course. Why on earth not, Mrs Coates?
-Go on. -This is really stupid.
Come on, you've got to do it on Coronation Day.
JIMMY: That's gonna be bad enough.
I'll never forgive you if you get it wrong.
Come on.
(MUMBLES) I crown you the June Queen.
Jimmy, nobody's going to hear that.
JIMMY: They will on the day.
-It's wrong anyway. -It's not.
It's "Princess". Had to be Princess this year, in case we offended the Queen.
Come on, Jimmy, do it properly.
Please?
I crown you the June Princess.
That's when the page boys present me with the cherries.
Doesn't say that here.
Miss Thomas changed it.
-Why? -Mr Piers and the second form came up with the cherry idea,
-and she had to work it in. -Oh. What do they do?
One says "May your skin be like the blossom".
And the other one says "May your lips be like the ripe red cherries."
-You only want the cherries. -Shut up!
(COUGHING)
Have we finished?
Er, yes. Do we need the Archbishop anymore?
I wish we didn't need him at all.
So do I.
(COUGHING)
I'm all right, Mum.
He's a happy enough fellow.
Wolfie, I shall have to get vexed with thee.
Tell me, how often does he...
Slide around on his backside?
-Er, yes. -There's no telling, Mr Farnon.
-I can't be watching him all the time, can I? -No, of course not.
'Course not. Right, come on, fella.
-Every day, would you say? -Oh, aye.
-(WOLFIE WHIMPERS) -Ah, that's it.
The poor chap's anal glands are impacted.
I tell you what I'm going to do,
I'm going to evacuate as much as I can, for now.
-(WOLFIE WHIMPERS) -That'll give him some relief.
It's got to be sorted.
If he makes up his mind to rub his rear end
round our carpet in front of the Queen,
I'll never live it down, will I?
The Queen?
Coronation Day. We're having a television set in here.
All ready for the big day. I've got it all arranged.
What a good idea.
I'll fetch thee some soap and water.
(WOLFIE WHINES)
My young brother's taking himself off to London
to watch the great event in the flesh.
-Lucky devil! -(WOLFIE BARKS)
Spoiled, that's what he is.
(WOLFIE GROWLS)
-Mind this end, Mr Farnon. -Hmm?
Great Scott!
Do you know, I don't believe I've ever seen anything quite like that happen before.
Snarling at one end and still wagging away at the other.
I think you may have a circus performer on your hands, Mrs Coates.
He's always done it. You're lucky he didn't go for you, Mr Farnon.
Oh, really?
Right, well, I think that just about does it, Mrs Coates.
I'll leave those for you, if I may.
Uh...
Ah, the van's out of the road now. I'll be on my way.
Oh, thanks so much.
Two young men, they say.
The burglars?
Aye, working as a team.
One keeps you talking, while the other one
helps his self behind your back.
Well, they won't catch you out, will they, Mrs Alton?
They'll not come here. They pick on old folk, easy targets.
We'd better keep our eyes peeled, hadn't we?
Thank you for the tea, Mrs A.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
-How d'you feel? -Not too bad.
-But not too good, eh? -(COUGHING)
I don't think the medicine's working.
You have to give it time.
But I'm not getting any better.
-Well, you only started it yesterday. -The day before.
I've only got one week and three days till the Coronation party.
You'll be all right.
Haven't you got something you could give me?
Only if you moo.
If I don't go in to school on Friday, I won't be the princess.
And I won't have to be Archbishop.
Well, the cloak's like a dress. I look like a sissy.
You'll still have to do it, even if I'm not there.
-You'll have to crown someone else. -Oh.
-It won't be Susie Thornton. -It might.
It has to be someone from our form.
-How do you know? -I know!
The question won't arise, Jimmy. All right?
Why don't you go and see if supper's ready, eh?
And you, keep your tiara polished.
But what if I'm not better?
Rosie, you will get better and you will be a princess.
(TELEPHONE RINGING)
Darrowby 385...
Yes, of course I remember, Mrs Coates.
Er, and I remember Wolfie.
Can you bring him in?
Ah, no. No, I see. (WHISPERS) James!
Your hip. Yes, of course.
Well, now, Mrs Coates, the thing is, I'm busy all the morning.
And... I'm also busy this afternoon.
But I'm sure one of us will find time to look in on you.
Not at... Not at all, Mrs Coates. Goodbye.
James, before you say a word, I know you've got to see the Harts in Pogmore Row.
Mrs Coates lives just a few doors down.
-It's a dog, isn't it? -Yes, it is.
Wolfie by name, and by nature.
(CHUCKLES) James, you are so suspicious. Wolfie is an excellent dog.
It's just that, with Tristan gallivanting around all over London with my lot,
it's a question of "all hands to the pumps", isn't it?
Well, it's his first break since he came back from Ireland.
I know!
And enormously well-deserved. You will look in, James, won't you?
-What's wrong with it? -Oh, nothing you can't handle, James. Anal glands.
(COUGHS WEAKLY)
Come on, love.
-(SOBS) -Yes, I know. I know.
-Waste of my brass, you coming, Veterinary. -Really, is it? Why?
She were about dead when I found her, first thing.
-Never said it was urgent. -I know when a beast's on its last legs.
First loss is best loss. I should have called in knackers right away.
Do you want me to look at your animal, or not?
You might as well, now you're here.
-Well, Mr Herriot? -It's eczema, Mr Hart. Miliary eczema, actually.
It's quite common in neutered cats.
Is he very poorly?
Well, he's not going to be very comfortable.
He's not been well.
Not hissin' at all.
Don't worry. It's easily treatable.
That's grand.
-He's been scratching a lot, I'll bet? -Some days, aye.
He's been reet twined lately, poor lad.
Well, this'll fix it.
Except, of course, I've brought the wrong hormone.
I'm sorry about that.
Still, I am passing your door tomorrow morning.
Anything we can do to help him?
No, nothing, Mr Hart.
(CAT YOWLS)
It's not an urgent condition, and I promise you, he will not get any worse.
-Do you want brass now? -When I haven't given him any treatment?
Certainly not.
What is she doing right up here?
I keep my dry-bagged cows up here, out of the way of the flies.
But you've got most of them down at the farm, haven't you?
I fetch them down when they're ready to calve, if I can.
This is an old hand. She's never ailed before, hasn't Alice.
Five calvings and never been any trouble.
-Until now. -Aye, she's gettin' on, like.
Fact is, Mr Farnon, the beast's our Mary's favourite.
Our Mary?
-Our eldest. -Yeah?
-Bank clerk in Leeds. -Oh, yes! Yes, yes.
She'd not let me forget it if I let old Alice die
-without letting the vet have a look at her. -Uh-huh.
Well, we'd better see if we can do something about it, then, hadn't we?
Well, tha'll charge me for a visit now anyway, won't tha?
I certainly will.
(MUTTERS) Thought tha might.
(WOLFIE BARKING)
MRS COATES: Who is it?
It's James Herriot, Mrs Coates.
Are you sure?
I've come about Wolfie.
I have to be sure though before I open the door.
Hang on a minute.
(LAUGHS) Tha looks reet daft down there. Come on in, lad.
Oh, thanks.
(COW GRUNTS)
-The calf was suckling all right, was it? -Aye.
Alice were on her feet last night.
Right.
(WHISTLES)
The... The temperature's down.
And there's no bowel movement.
I'll call knackers then, shall I?
Now, I'm gonna give her an injection.
MR GIBSON: She's a good beast.
She'll fetch a decent price if I send her in now.
I tell you, she'll make a full recovery.
Tha'll tell me owt, Mr Farnon.
She's got the milk fever, you see.
But with what I'm gonna put into her,
she'll be back on her feet in no time.
I'll not throw good money after bad.
Keep the fancy drugs in that bag.
Well, let's say no cure, no pay, hmm?
-That means I'll only pay if the beast gets better? -Precisely.
Do what thy likes, Mr Farnon.
Uh-huh.
(COW GROANS)
-(WOLFIE WHIMPERS) -All right, Wolfie, all right. It's nearly done.
Hush now, Wolfie.
It's all right, it's nearly over.
-I'm right glad, Mr Herriot. -He's very good, isn't he?
This must be extremely painful but he's still wagging his tail, or trying to.
-Aye, but that don't mean what people... -(WOLFIE SNARLS)
-Wolfie! -(BARKING)
-Mrs Coates, quick. Good dog! Good dog! -Stop it! Get off, Wolfie!
-Dost thou want to feel my hand across thy back? -Good boy.
-Enough! Sit. Now behave! -(BARKING STOPS)
I'll give thee such a smacking, that I will.
Mrs Coates, he was trying to wag his tail.
He always does, Mr Herriot.
-Even when he's angry? -Especially when he's angry.
He's always giving folks the wrong idea.
Yes. Yes, I'm sure he is.
Up you get, old girl. Hey up, come on!
Hup! Hup! Hup!
There you go.
I'll send you my bill then, Mr Gibson.
How is Rosie?
No better. I'm a bit worried about her, actually.
My mother always rubbed our chests with goose-grease,
-and dosed us up with her home-made expectorant. -What?
When we had coughs and colds. She reckoned nature could do the trick.
-Did it work? -Oh, aye.
She wouldn't have a doctor in the house. Never needed one.
-What's in it? -All manner of things, but all of them natural.
Can you get me some?
Do you know, I think I could lay me hands on a bottle.
(SHEEP BLEATING)
Hello, love.
What? You'll have to speak up.
Lovely garden, Mrs...
-Hart's my name. What's yours? -Simon, love.
-All your own work, is it? -My Albert's back's gone stiff,
-so I do what I can. -Poorly, is he?
Only when it comes to bending his back.
So while you work, he's inside listening to the wireless?
Nay, he's off to Fothergill for a half-ounce of shag.
It's not as tidy as I'd like, but you can only do so much.
I think we've come to the right place then.
-Oh, aye? -We'll help you to get straight.
Won't take many minutes to get rid of these.
-We can't afford to pay. -Shh. No charge.
Grand, they are. What's your secret?
You'll have to tell me.
You have to feed 'em properly.
Well, you've given those tulips a special feed, haven't you?
-Nowt but blood and bone meal. -Nay. There's something else.
We all have our secrets.
So we do. Go on. I won't tell.
-MRS HART: A bit of peat... -(MUSIC PLAYING INSIDE)
-Brings 'em up a treat. -I'll tell my missus that.
She'll be right grateful to you, Mrs Hart.
Well, that's a start, then.
We'll have to keep on top of the job, though.
Now, Mrs Hart, when would it be convenient for us to call back?
-We're always here. -Except when your old man runs out of baccy, eh?
(MRS HART CHUCKLES)
You gave this to Rosie without knowing what's in it?
Mrs Alton swears by it.
Well, her systems can probably cope.
I'm all for natural remedies, if they're proven.
I wouldn't give this to an animal if I didn't know what it was.
Well, all right, then, let's get her on antibiotics.
When Allinson says it's time.
But you give antibiotics at the first sign of infection.
Ah, well, that's different.
Well... But her throat is infected, James.
He is right not to pump her full of penicillin.
But if it's going to make her better...
Let's see if she can fight it herself first.
What about pneumonia?
-She hasn't got pneumonia! -Yet.
It's just, she'll be so disappointed if she misses the pageant.
I know.
You don't have to listen to her all day, coughing her heart out.
I want her to get better just as much as you do!
All right. Time being of the essence, penicillin it is.
-What if Dr Allinson won't prescribe antibiotics? -He will.
-We could try this. -Penicillin first, please.
(SHEEP BLEATING)
I'm afraid she's in pretty poor shape, Susie.
-What is it? -Well, I've a nasty suspicion it's liver fluke.
What's that?
It's, um,
it's a parasite that's carried by snails.
The sheep eat infected grass and then this little thing
gets into their systems, and it rots the liver.
So what's the treatment?
Well, I'm afraid there's considerable liver damage.
And I can't...
I can't think of any treatment that would be effective at this stage.
She was an orphan. I brought her up meself.
There must be something we can do, Mr Farnon!
Nothing you can do?
Well, you know, with the likely damage to the liver,
it'd be a miracle if we get a response to treatment.
No wonderful modern medicine?
Not at this stage. Not when it's gone that far.
Something milder...
A natural remedy?
Well, why not?
After all, we still use turpentine and linseed oil
to cure cows with the bloat.
We still rub mustard water on pigs for pneumonia, don't we?
Yes, but these days you do prefer to use your drugs first, don't you?
Well, that's because they tend to be quicker, and more effective.
More expensive, though.
Well, time is money, isn't it? Don't forget that.
And as you very well know, the farmers pay us
to get their beasts back into production as quickly as possible.
Yes, if only they'd pay their bills as quickly as your drugs work.
(CAT MEOWING)
-There we are. -All done then, Mr Herriot?
-Well, there's still tablets. -Tablets?
Well, it's nothing to worry about. He's just getting on a bit, that's all.
-And he is getting a bit bald. -Oh, a bit of baldness is nowt to worry about.
Happens to us all, Mr Herriot.
How true that is, Mr Hart.
-Still, we can help him. -Never bothered me, losing my hair.
Don't you believe it, Mr Herriot.
He spent years combing the hair across to hide shiny bit.
Aye, well, it won't bother our Cyril, will it?
Aye. Only a cat, when all's said and done, isn't he?
The jab'll be enough, Mr Herriot, for the time being.
Mrs Hart, he needs the tablets.
Next time then, Mr Herriot.
He really ought to start the tablets straight away, Mr Hart.
If you find it difficult giving him tablets, why don't you crush them in the food?
It's not that, Mr Herriot. He's very good with tablets.
-It's just that... -Yes?
We've not got cash today.
Well, that's all right. Another day will be fine.
-You always pay on the dot. -It may take us a bit longer this time.
Mrs Hart, sometimes we wait years for farmers to settle up.
You just pay when you can.
I've always paid me way, like.
Never had anything on tick. If we can't pay for it, we don't have it.
It's all right.
It's just...
It's not important, Mr Hart, honestly.
We were robbed.
What?
Reet daft we were. We should have known they'd come up here.
Oh, God, I'm sorry.
Look, don't bother about paying me...
We don't want charity.
I'm not offering charity, Mr Hart. You just pay when you can, all right?
You'll get your cash, Mr Herriot.
I know.
There we are, then. But don't expect him to live forever.
A two-year-old hamster is entitled to draw his pension, you know.
Oh, hello. Are you off already?
-To Rosie. -Oh, yes, of course.
Give her my love, and my best wishes for a speedy recovery.
-Er, Siegfried... -Yes?
Have you... Have you ever tried this?
What is it?
-"Topdale Expectorant"? -Well, Mrs Alton swears by it,
and I wondered if it was safe to give it to Rosie.
-What's in it? -I... I don't know.
-Have you asked Mrs Alton? -No, 'cause I didn't want her to think I didn't trust her.
Very wise.
It's highly alcoholic. Don't show it to Tristan.
What about penicillin?
Yeah, well, Dr Allinson gave her, her first jab this morning.
I...
If I were you, I'd let antibiotics have a chance first.
They're selling them at the post office.
A Coronation crown!
-That's five shillings! -It'll be worth a lot more if you don't spend it.
They're only making a limited number.
(SIGHS)
At least I'll have something to remember the Coronation by.
You will remember the Coronation by being crowned princess.
You will!
Those little penicillin soldiers will soon start smashing up
all that nasty bacteria. You'll see.
-Glorious, isn't it? -Yes, isn't it?
Let's hope it's like this for the Coronation.
That'd be lovely, wouldn't it?
-Have you seen Rosie's dress? -Heard the history of every sequin.
-Jimmy's bringing the tiara home tonight. -Oh, good.
As long as he doesn't give it to Susie Thornton.
Yes, he is rather stuck on her, isn't he?
Nah, she's more interested in her menagerie than she is in boys.
Er, darling, you haven't... Um...
-No, of course not. -Give the penicillin time to work.
-I know that. -Well, that's what she needs, you see. Time.
(SIGHS) And that's what she hasn't got. Time.
She needs to get well, James.
-Come on. -I'm sorry. It's just...
I know.
-Hello, Siegfried. -Ah! Good Lord!
-Are you doing the church flowers this week? -(CHUCKLES)
No, this is medicine, James.
Oh, male fern. You're lucky to find that. Pretty rare up here.
You get to know where most things are
when you've been around as long as I have.
Anthelmintic. Poisonous to tapeworms.
I thought you've always said that it was cheaper to use filicin.
For liver fluke in sheep?
-Uh-huh. -Bit old hat.
Don't you think just sometimes, James, we're in danger
of letting our gadarene drive for progress trample on the traditional remedies?
Hexachlorethane is mighty powerful, Siegfried.
Too toxic for this patient, James. She's very emaciated.
It would kill her as well as the fluke.
And the male fern won't?
Well, I don't know. It's just an experiment.
And if the fluke doesn't kill her, she'll die anyway.
That's the risk.
Well, I'd go for the fluke, myself.
Would you, James?
Hefty dose of hexachlorethane.
-Thank you for your advice. -Well, that's your best bet, I'd say.
-I'm very grateful. Ow! -That's what partners are for, isn't it?
Would you like to help me pick some?
I haven't got time to pick greenery, Siegfried.
Hail, then, and farewell.
-Siegfried... -Mmm?
How about an infusion of dandelion for mastitis?
Powerful analgesic qualities in dandelions, James.
Ah.
Well, I'll try this on Biggins next time I see him. Bye.
Bye, James.
Not a word, Mrs Alton, this is science.
And that's my best pan, Mr Farnon.
I promise to scour it thoroughly.
You should have used one of these!
Next time, Mrs Alton, next time.
What are her chances, then, Mr Farnon?
Well, frankly, my dear, I would give very, very little
for her chances, but...
We're never entirely defeated till the last breath has been breathed.
I do hope you're right, Mr Farnon.
Time will tell.
Now then, Dafty. Susie, will you hold her head?
Come on, now.
-It's going down, Mr Farnon. -She's too weak to resist.
What we have to do now is keep our fingers crossed.
Here you are.
The penicillin isn't working, is it?
Well, you have got to keep going with it, love.
I hate those injections, Mum.
Well, you've got to keep taking them, love.
The penicillin could take two or three days to work.
If it works.
If it doesn't work, then we'll just have to find something else.
If I'm not in school tomorrow, I can't be in the pageant.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
Come in.
Susie Thornton telephoned. Her sheep's up on its feet again.
-She wants to know what to feed it for the best. -Oh.
-Anything wrong? -No, no. I'm sure Mr Farnon will be delighted
that his male ferns' doing the trick.
-Lot to be said for natural remedies, Mr Herriot. -Come on, Mrs Alton.
There's no point into looting half a hillside of male ferns
when one shot of hexachlorethane would do the trick.
The pendulum could do with swinging back a notch or two, in my opinion.
Yes. Where is Mr Farnon?
Gibson's. Lame beast.
All right. Well, I'll pop in and see Susie this afternoon, just to make sure.
There.
There's your culprit, Mr Gibson.
You'd walk with a limp if you had that in your foot.
Right then. What you've got to do
is tub that foot in salt and water
for 10 minutes, night and morning.
And you'll need two tablespoonfuls of salt
to half a gallon of water, all right?
That should... That should keep her from going septic.
And then I think she'll be fine.
Right you are, then, Mr Gibson. Thank you very much.
Mr Farnon? What about the magic bottle?
Magic bottle?
Like last time. The magic bottle.
Saved the old girl's life, it did.
Right you are. Of course.
-I know what you mean. That's the one, isn't it? -Aye.
Smell again. Go on.
Gin.
No, but it's what they use to flavour gin. Crushed juniper berries.
-No alcohol? -No, just the juniper.
Taste it, go on. It won't hurt.
(CLEARS THROAT)
Mmm... Well, different.
-Mint. Parsley? -Wild peppermint.
Angelica. Some use parsley,
but you've to take care not to get it wrong and use hemlock by mistake.
There's something sweet, too. Honey.
That'll be the cranberries. And there's a pinch or two of pennyroyal.
And if that doesn't clear out your tubes, nothing will!
Mmm, right.
Come on.
-How is she? -She seems fine.
Greatly improved. Much better than she should be, actually.
-Must be that plant medicine Mr Farnon gave her. -Yes. Yes, it must.
-Should she have some more? -No! No, I think one dose will be enough.
(CLEARS THROAT)
-How was she? -Sleeping like a baby.
Not her. Susie's sheep!
Oh, Dafty's making a remarkable recovery.
-Must be the miracle season. -Yeah.
-And Susie? -Very happy.
-Good. -She's getting very pretty.
It's late. See you in the morning.
-Goodnight. -Goodnight, Jimmy.
-Hungry? -Ravenous.
Rosie looks so peaceful.
Isn't it lovely?
Well, those awful penicillin injections must be having some effect.
Yes. (CLEARS THROAT)
(SNIFFING)
Mrs Alton taking your calls today?
-Yes, of course she is. -Mmm-hmm.
Cleanliness is next to godliness, James. How's Rosie?
She's going to school this afternoon.
-What a remarkable recovery. -Well, if she hadn't gone in today,
they'd have dropped her from the pageant.
The power of modern antibiotics, eh, James?
A miracle, Siegfried.
(SNIFFING)
Hmm.
My gran has a lovely dog. Says it keeps her company.
Aye, same with my Wolfie.
They're a blessing, and no mistake.
I wouldn't be without him for the world.
Your husband passed on, has he?
A year and a half since.
My grandad passed on in January.
-I'm sorry. -Me too.
Nice doggy. Nice Wolfie.
(WOLFIE GROWLING)
-(WOLFIE BARKS) -(CLATTERING)
-Argh, get it off! Get it off! -Come on!
(BARKING)
Go, Wolfie, get them!
(WAILING) Get it off!
Leave your jacket! Come on!
(WOLFIE BARKING)
(CAR HORN HONKS)
(WOLFIE BARKS)
Good boy, Wolfie. Good boy.
There's a good boy.
Thank you. Good dog.
Good boy, Wolfie. Good boy.
-Did you get the number? -Afraid not. Sorry.
Oh, don't worry. He's left his calling card. (LAUGHS)
Yes. A good bit of evidence, that.
Right, how much was it you two lost, exactly?
About four pounds, 11 shillings.
There's four... And one, two tens... Five pounds. There we are.
-Oh, we couldn't do that. -We could and we will.
-(LAUGHS) -He were waggin' his tail. "Nice doggy", he said.
"Nice doggy." And the clever beggar went for him!
-Well, he was talking to the wrong end, wasn't he? -(WOLFIE BARKS)
(SIGHS)
I'm afraid we're fighting a losing battle.
Don't say that, Mr Farnon. Give her some more ferns.
Wouldn't help, Susie. If one treatment won't work, twenty won't either.
I'm very disappointed.
Poor beggar got herself all tangled up in wire.
Have to be careful with barbed wire, Mr Gibson.
Tha'll only see stone walls and posted rails on my land.
-She got out, then? -Aye.
I've been too busy to mend fences.
It's a lot of work for one man, Mr Gibson.
I'm not ready for givin' up yet.
You could use some extra help, though, couldn't you?
Ah, I don't mind hard work.
It'll need stitching.
-Is this one "no cure, no pay" and all? -Pardon?
-That's how thy partner does it. -Ah.
Well, I don't, usually.
Don't tha think tha can do it, then?
-Yes, I can do it. -Why won't thy put thy brass where thy mouth is, then?
All right, Mr Gibson. I'll guarantee my work. No cure, no pay.
I'd like you to hold the head though, please, Mr Gibson.
-One last chance. -What?
-Hexachlorethane -Is that another one of your plants, Mr Farnon?
No, Susie, I'm afraid it's not.
I'm afraid I'm back to the drugs.
How soon can I milk her?
Soon as you like.
Just don't put any milk in the churn that's got blood in it.
Would I, Mr Herriot?
Not you, Mr Gibson.
I'm sorry, Susie.
You did all you could, Mr Farnon.
Yes.
-And you will milk her last? -Aye.
Well, I'll be back in a few days, take out the stitches.
Bye, Mr Gibson.
Tha's not finished yet, has thou, Veterinary?
-Yes, she's gonna be fine. -But the magic bottle, Mr Herriot!
-The magic bottle? -Mr Farnon always uses it on beasts when he's done.
Ah. Well, Mr Farnon and I have very individual ways of working, Mr Gibson.
It's worked every time so far!
I have done the very best job that I can.
Tha'll not get thy brass!
If she's cured, I will.
There'd be no need for "if" if thy used the bottle!
What you need, Mr Gibson, is a bloomin' witch doctor.
-Siegfried... -Ah, James. The very man. Give me a hand, will you?
-Yes, of course. Right. -Get it over there.
-Siegfried, what is Mr Gibson's magic potion? -Now, then...
-Seaweed? Belladonna? -Over here.
(STRUGGLING) Diagonally across the corner...
-Mr Gibson, Siegfried. -Yep?
I was up there today, stitching a gashed teat.
Oh, Lord. Make a hash of it, did you, James?
No, I did a remarkable job, actually, but all he wanted was one of your magic bottles.
Don't tell me you didn't offer him the magic bottle?
I don't know what it is!
Now, then, the screen will be there...
(BELL RINGING)
Let's get this round. Your end down to the fireplace.
-Right across, right across, James. -It's heavy, isn't it?
There we go, that's it.
Well, what is it?
It is... (PANTS)
A professional secret, James.
-Siegfried, you are... -What?
-Impossible. -James!
-Insufferable. -Surely not.
-You should have told me. -Told you what, James?
What weeds you are giving to Mr Gibson's beasts, in case I recommend something,
or treat them with something, which reacts against the magic bottle.
-That's quite impossible, James. -How do you know?
Because it's merely calcium.
-Calcium? -Yes. Now, don't be so disparaging.
Calcium, you see, is truly magical.
-For a bleeding teat? -And for everything else,
as far as Mr Gibson's concerned.
I thought you were using mallow plants, or pennyroyal, or something.
Ah, well.
Right. That's it.
So, what happened to Dafty?
Alas, James,
the sheep it was that died.
That's the end of my experimentation with the local flora.
Of course, we'll have to draw the curtains, 'cause the light reflects off the screen.
-Ah, yes. -Have you seen this, James?
We are the new Elizabethans.
-Pioneers, Siegfried. -Precisely.
We must come out of the dark ages and embrace the future.
The vanguard is where our clients expect us to be,
and that's exactly where we must be.
Are you sure we're not throwing out the baby with the bathwater?
-Certainly not, James. -Natural remedies do have something to them, you know.
The march of progress cannot and must not be arrested.
Yes, well, someone at Rowan Garth has been at the Topdale Expectorant,
and suddenly Rosie is as fit as a fiddle.
(LAUGHS) Penicillin, James.
-Possibly. -You are really so fickle, you know.
-You are positively contrary. -Me, Siegfried?
-Have you taken your medicine? -Not yet.
Hmm.
JAMES: Sister Kirkwood's here.
-Do I have to, Mum? -Yes, you do, I'm afraid.
-Hello, Sister Kirkwood. -Good morning, Mrs Herriot.
JAMES: Medical treatment can't all be fun, Rosie.
Now, no arguments. You're going to have to take some of this stuff, too.
(TV BUZZES)
It's on the wireless too, Mr Farnon.
(INDISTINCT VOICES ON TV)
-...the only mounted man... -Ah... What?
...in the whole of today's procession.
TV ANNOUNCER: There, the greys of the trumpeters,
in their gorgeous mounted state dress...
(THUNDER RUMBLES)
Oi, oi.
I wish we lived in London.
-That's Tristan, look! -What? Where?
-In the crowd. -Where?
He was there!
In The Mall? Impossible.
-Not a public house in sight. -(LAUGHTER)
-I bet it was Tristan. -It wasn't.
-I saw him. -You didn't.
Please, Archbishop, Princess!
-She doesn't know what I saw! -Does it matter?
-Here she comes! -Oh!
-(ALL APPLAUD) -Radiant!
(COW MOOS)
Ah, there you are, you little beggar.
Nasty.
(CROWD CHEERING)
I'm just off then, Mr Farnon.
Right you are, Mrs Alton. You hurry, now.
Lovely hat, Mrs Alton.
Oh, well, you've got to look your best for Her Majesty.
Oh, Mr Herriot, if you get a moment, Mrs Coates would appreciate a word.
-Is it that Wolfie again? -No, she just wants to say thank you to her Robin Hood.
What?
Robbing the robbers to give to the poor.
(PANTING)
James, we should be out there helping.
-Yes. Sorry. -But, Helen,
you'll miss the crowning moment.
There's a television in the shop, Siegfried.
We have to see to our princess, too.
How's my hair?
-A mess. -It's perfect. I couldn't have done it better myself.
I know, Dad. (LAUGHS)
Can we get this over with now?
What about the rain? My dress will be ruined.
JIMMY: If the Queen can put up with the rain, so can you.
Use the umbrella out of the hall stand. Come on.
-Bye. -Goodbye, Helen.
Good luck to you all.
(TELEPHONE RINGING)
James!
(RINGING CONTINUES)
SIEGFRIED: Darrowby 385...
Ah, yes, it is, Mr Gibson.
Um...
You don't suppose she could wait until the sovereign has been crowned, do you?
(CHATTERING EXCITEDLY)
Doesn't she look nice? She really is lovely.
-Cor! -Stupid, isn't it?
Wonderful!
-Is it? -Put the hat on.
(GIGGLES)
You look so... Mature.
TV ANNOUNCER: And now, with the singing of the Introit Psalm,
there begins the communion service
within which so much of the ritual of Coronation is set.
Here she comes. There we are. There's one foot.
That was the bad one, so we're all right now. Let's get the...
Hey up.
Right.
And fill her, O Lord, with the Spirit of Thy holy fear,
now and forever, through Jesus Christ, Our Lord. Amen.
(COW GRUNTS)
(GRUNTS)
(GASPS)
All right.
There we are. (CHUCKLES)
Dawn of a new age, Mr Gibson.
Queen Elizabeth's newest subject.
-I know what she needs now, Mr Farnon. -What's that?
-The bottle. -The bottle?
The magic bottle.
Oh. Well, I'll have to have a look in my bag.
I'll tell you one thing, Mr Farnon,
tha'll need to tell thy partner, and all.
Done.
Now, I wonder if I did bring it.
I hope thy has, Mr Farnon!
May your skin be like this blossom.
May your lips be like these ripe, red cherries.
I crown you the June Princess.
(ALL GASP)
(ALL APPLAUDING)
God save the Queen! God save the Queen!
(CORK POPS)
Now then, Mr Gibson... The Queen!
I'll drink to that, Mr Farnon.
Mmm.
(BOTH LAUGHING)