Original subtitles

- Oh-ho. - Problem?

It's just a note from little brother informing us

that it'll be a couple of months before we'll see him again.

- Oh, hell. - Don't worry, reinforcements are coming.

- In fact, the relief column is probably... - (phone rings)

..battling its way stoutly towards us even as we talk.

- Aye? Which relief column might that be? - You tell me.

Darrowby 385.

Oh, hello, my dear. Yes, he is.

Calum!

Guess who.

Hello?

Deirdre! Where are you ringing from?

Oh. I see.

Oh, well. Never mind.

Thanks for calling anyway.

It's just really good to speak to you again.

Calum and his woman. He never is off that telephone.

- What about these reinforcements? - Reinforcements.

One Willy Bannister, James, a protege of old Stuey Brannon's.

Oh, really?

Between you and me, it didn't surprise me that much to hear from Tristan

that we wouldn't see him for a while.

- Didn't it? - No. Imagine what he's up to in lreland.

If Molly's anything to go by... Anyway!

I told Stuey yesterday how hard-pressed we were,

and he volunteered young Bannister for a fortnight.

- Good old Stuey. - I've said it always, James,

and make no apologies for repeating myself -

the salt of the earth, Stuey. Always was.

This young fellow's exactly what one's looking for for a stand-in.

He's brilliantly qualified, he's bright as a button, clean in his habits,

and he's the sort of young chap who concentrates on the job in hand

and isn't always mooning around making endless lovesick telephone calls.

Who's this we're speaking about? The Archangel Gabriel?

Reinforcements.

According to Stuey, he's a model of probity and moderation.

And he comes with his own transport.

- (James) Bye-bye, Gordon. - Thank you.

- Is that you finished, then, James? - Yeah, looks like it.

Might I suggest that we repair to the Drover's for a wee lotion?

Good thinking.

- Been in, then, has he? - Evening. Sorry? Has who been in?

- Our Bernard, of course. - Er, no.

Erm...

Me name's Wain, Belgate Farm.

Oh, yes. If he has been in, he hasn't talked to me, Mrs Wain.

- Useless, he is, that one. Useless. - Why was the, erm...

It's Miss, actually. I'm only his sister, not his wife, thank God.

I mean, what woman'd be daft enough to take that one on as didn't have to?

Quite. What exactly was Bernard coming in to see me about, Miss Wain?

To let you know, of course.

That heifer you saw a few months back, she's due to calf tomorrow.

Oh, splendid. Well, I'll put it in the daybook.

- Right. - Right.

- Mary Jane, what are you doing here? - Doing?! What I asked you to do, as usual.

That's why I'm calling in now, to tell Mr Herriot.

Well, you can save your breath. Useless!

Never mind, Bernard.

Mr Herriot, if I minded, I'd have left home years ago.

You know, I can't help thinking that if there is a heaven and a hell,

Bernard Wain must surely have served his purgatory already.

- (doorbell) - Who's that? Surgery's finished.

(laughs) Willy's arrived.

Oh. Good.

- Siegfried! - (Siegfried) Hello!

Your model of probity and moderation has arrived.

Oh, right.

Well, bring him in, Calum, bring him in.

Er, well, he's... he's just parking his transport at the minute.

(Siegfried) Oh-ho!

- Er, Mr Farnon, is it? - That's right.

Willy Bannister.

(stammers) Willy.

- Er, come in. Welcome to Skeldale. - Thank you.

- Er, this is my partner, James... - Oh, and, erm...

I'd, er, better bring this inside, had I?

(Siegfried chuckles)

So this is the... the transport that Stuey was talking about, is it?

Ah, this is it, Mr Farnon. The old trusty bike.

Aha. I see.

Well, we'll find a place for that to live later on. Meanwhile...

we'd better sort out a room for you.

Right.

Yes.

Siegfried, we were thinking of nipping over to the Drover's.

- Oh, that's a grand idea, Calum. - Er, the Drover's?

It's our nearest hostelry. So why don't you dump your baggage upstairs

and join us over there?

- What, for a drink, you mean? - Well, that would be the general idea, yes.

Only I don't, you know? Drink, I mean.

You don't?

I see.

Well, why don't we dump your stuff upstairs anyway

and then we'll work out what to do with you?

Right.

This way.

When he says he doesn't drink, is he to be taken literally?

He really doesn't drink?

Well, it certainly looks like it. Strictly TT, I expect.

(sighs) Good grief.

There's probably a perfectly good reason, you know.

I suppose so.

It's all right for you. You don't have to live with him for the next fortnight.

No wonder Siegfried's pal wanted to jettison him for a couple of weeks.

I thought this Stuey Brannon character

was supposed to be one of life's bons viveurs.

Also famous for his droll sense of humour.

(James chuckles) Poor old Siegfried.

"Poor old S..."?

Pff!

(someone tuning a radio)

Hello, Willy.

Oh, hello, James.

- Siegfried's gone? - Er, yes, he was called out to a foaling.

- So, have you settled in upstairs all right? - Just about.

- Ah, good. Well, I'll be off, then. - Right.

Oh, message from Calum.

Oh, yes?

- If you'd like to join him, he is still there. - I think not.

No.

Right.

- Night-night, Willy. - Er, good night, James.

Music (men) So it's good night, campers

Music Don't sleep in your braces

Music Good night, campers

Music Put your teeth in Jeyes'

Music Drown your sorrows

(all unsure ofthe words)

Music Good night, campers

Music Good night

(all cheer)

Come along, gentlemen! Time to go home!

Och, well, that's me away.

If I can't get any more to drink, I'm going home.

(Music "Nessun Dorma" on radio)

(front door opens)

Music See you in the morning

Music Good night, campers...

(Music "Nessun Dorma" continues)

Ha-ha!

- What's that commotion? - (music reaches a crescendo)

- Tauber. - Don't you think it's loud enough?

Richard Tauber, the tenor.

Oh, aye.

For a minute I thought it was you. I was going to say you've missed your vocation.

- (opera continues quietly) - Oh!

- Enjoyable time? - Super. Super.

You should have come over.

But of course I'm forgetting, you've signed the pledge.

Not exactly.

Well, you are, strictly speaking, TT.

Oh, just about.

Don't you think you're missing out a bit on the fun side of life?

Or... is there some, er, medical reason in your case?

I suppose you could say there is, really, in a way.

Oh?

Well, of course, I did used to drink, at college.

- Like the proverbial fish, in fact. - (Calum giggles)

And then one day, well, l... I read this book, you see.

- A book? - Mm.

About the toxic effects of alcohol on the system.

(chuckles) Where did you get that? The local temperance league?

Oh, it's a standard work. On disorders of the liver, pancreas - that sort of thing.

What got to me was the sheer insidiousness of it.

How-how do you mean, exactly?

Well, what I mean is that a chap can be going along, you know,

enjoying the odd few pints night after night,

perfectly confident that he certainly hasn't got anything to worry about,

when all the time, he could be well on his way to developing

anything from cirrhosis to hepatitis -

which he wouldn't even naturally be aware of

until the serious damage had already been done.

And you got all this from a book?

Oh, yes. Well, it shook me, I can tell you.

I probably have a copy of it somewhere if you'd like to read it.

Er... ah... er... some other time, perhaps.

Sounds like fascinating reading.

In the meantime, I'm away to my bed. I'll see you tomorrow.

Certainly hope so.

"Certainly hope so." Pff!

(radio volume is turned up)

(stomping loudly) Music Good night, campers

Music See you in the morning

(sighs)

James, you haven't seen it, have you?

- What? - The latest issue of the Record.

There was a fascinating article in it about feline leukaemia,

which I was determined to keep.

It's got to the state now where one only has to lay something down for a second

for it suddenly to sprout legs and walk.

- Good morning. - Is it really?

Some of us haven't had time to find out yet, I'm afraid.

This place! Dear Lord.

(front door opens)

Ah!

Oh, I don't believe it.

- (Calum) Porridge, eh? - (Willy) Mm.

Nothing like a bowl of porridge to set you up for the day.

Oh...

- Oh, a bit like that this morning, are we? - No.

It's the waterlogging of the brain that causes it, you know.

Calum...

might I have a word with you, please?

Of course.

Bon appetit.

Calum...

First of all...

this place... this room...

which in happier times was the warm and glowing centre of the entire household...

would you just look at it?

What do you think?

Well, er...

very cosy.

I would have to say that not all the furniture's to my taste, mind.

I was not asking you for an aesthetic judgment,

I was simply drawing your attention to the state of the place.

How... since the divine Deirdre left for Edinburgh

and you once again assumed entire responsibility for the whole household,

that the house in general and this room in particular

have once again assumed an uncanny resemblance to a pigsty at party time.

Oh, that.

Well, er, I have been meaning to run a Hoover over the place.

You know that the mere running of a Hoover over the place would be no good.

What is needed here is a positive blitzkrieg,

with soap and water, brush and duster.

Possibly even the odd... dollop of polish?

Yes, Siegfried.

What are you reading, Willy?

Er, this? Oh, it's just a piece on feline leukaemia I found.

And where did you find it?

I, er, clipped it out of the Veterinary Record.

Fascinating stuff, Siegfried. You really should read it yourself.

- Morning. - Morning.

Hello, Mr Herriot.

Hello, Bernard. How are you?

Oh, mustn't grumble, you know.

Who'd listen round here if I did?

Well, don't just stand there chattering. Take him round to her!

- If you'll just come this way, please. - Yes, of course.

I'll take these, shall I?

Thank you, Bernard.

- Which one is it, Bernard? - Mirabelle, Mr Herriot. Just over here.

Can I have hot water, soap, and a towel?

- There she is. - Thanks.

- Where do you think you're going? - Just to get t'veterinary a bucket of water.

There's another cow hanging a cleansing. Can you do it Thursday?

- Yes, I'll put you down for Thursday. - Good.

- When did she calf? - Day afore yesterday.

- Here you go. - Ah. Thanks a lot, Bernard.

Just see what's going on inside.

- I'll need my ropes, and, er... - See! Hand t'veterinary his ropes!

(mooing)

You'll be able to manage now, will you, Mr Herriot? On your own, like.

Well, put it this way, if you're all he's got to fall back on,

I reckon he's going to have to, isn't he?

I'll have the kettle on for a nice cup of tea for you when you've finished.

That'd be grand, Bernard, thanks.

What did I tell you?

Useless!

So, everything went all right, did it, Mr Herriot?

All straightforward. A bit of correction and pulling, that was all was needed.

Oh, thanks. Both mother and baby doing very well.

Oh, that's good.

So's that.

- It's good. - Oh!

About all I am good at, according to our Mary Jane - brewing up.

Oh, come on. I'm sure her bark's worse than her bite.

Is it heck as like. I remember her biting me when we were kids.

I was sore for a week.

Only... she always has been harder than me, has our Mary Jane, Mr Herriot.

I wouldn't like to tell you how often she's had to stick up for me in that schoolyard.

- Really? - Fight?

She could have gone 12 rounds with Joe Louis in her prime.

Missed her way, that one.

Sometimes I think we both did when it comes to fighting.

Anyroad...

Only, you see, it's the smell as gets to me.

The smell?

I just can't stand it.

You know, I mean when they're calving and that.

I mean, I can take the blood and the muck and all that,

but the smell just turns me stomach.

Even after living all me life on a farm. Funny, that, though, isn't it?

Yes, but calving - there's hardly any smell at all.

Oh, I know, Mr Herriot, but...

just a little bit... turns my stomach.

That's not your fault.

If it's something you've no control over.

Try telling her that.

- Willy? - Mm?

How do they do it?

Who?

The women.

Do what?

What they do.

How does Helen run a big house, cook three meals a day, bring up two children,

and still find time to manage the book-keeping?

I mean, we've just done two bedrooms, it's taken us hours, and I'm whacked.

- Perhaps our approach is all wrong. - How do you mean?

Well, perhaps what's called for is some sort of division of labour.

Would you care to explain?

Well, in our case, you doing your best to keep the dust level down

while I see to the cooking.

Me? Ha-ha!

- Can you cook? - Of course.

Really?

Aye, but are you any good?

Well, one doesn't like to blow one's own trumpet, but...

No. No.

- I do all right. - Hm.

And, er, what sort of things do you cook?

Oh, ltalian, French, you name it.

Oh.

Because, er, it just so happens that I'm particularly partial to a spot of ltalian.

Well, there you are, then.

Right.

Well, we'll do that, then.

Willy, I've got a feeling things are taking a distinct turn for the better round here.

I really am sorry, love. Only he ran straight out in front of me.

It wasn't your fault. It were mine for letting him off the lead.

Had a bit of a bump, did he?

- Is he dead? - No!

Just a bit stunned, that's all.

Thank God for that, anyroad.

(dog moans)

(people sigh in relief)

- Is he going to be all right, then? - (James) Well...

doesn't seem to be anything broken.

Come on. Let's try you on your feet, eh? Come on. Up you come, old boy.

Good dog. Come on, up properly. Come on. I know how you're feeling. Come on.

Good dog!

Oh, Bonzo, you daft old thing!

- Do you live round here? - Well, not too far away.

Come on, then, I'll run you home. And I'll look at him again there. All right?

All right. Thanks.

- Can you manage? - Yes, thanks.

Bye.

- My name's Herriot, by the way. - Yeah, I know that, Mr Herriot.

I wouldn't have got in your car if I hadn't.

- We haven't met before, have we? - Don't you remember?

Sorry, no, I'm afraid I don't.

Oh. Here we are.

Have you hurt your leg?

Eh, Mr Herriot. You really have forgotten me, haven't you?

Come in.

Dad!

Right, where do you want him? Will on here be all right for you?

Yes, that's as good a place as any, thanks.

Dad!

Now, whatever's to do?

- It's our Bonzo. He got run over. - Oh, heck!

It's all right, Dad. Mr Herriot's got it all in hand.

- Right, Mr Herriot? - Yes. Yes, right.

Mr Herriot?

- It's Mr Dimmock, isn't it? - That's right.

- I thought you'd moved away. - We did, Mr Herriot,

but we didn't like it much, so we moved back.

Oh, I see.

So you must be... Iittle Nelly.

That's me.

Good heavens! Little Nelly Dimmock!

Although these days she prefers to be known by her Sunday name of Eleanor.

- Right? - Yes, please.

(chuckles)

Of course.

And you're sure Bonzo's going to be all right?

Yes. A bit shaken up, that's all. I'll pop in and see him next time I'm passing.

- Aye. - Bye.

Hey! Oh, and you've got the address, haven't you?

- Address? - To send me the bill.

Oh, yes, of course. The bill.

Right.

Well, Willy, what can I say?

I hope this lasagne of yours tastes as good as it looks.

You're sure I can't tempt you into living a little dangerously?

- I'll stick with the water, thanks. - Och, well, to each his own.

What was it Plato once said?

"Bring me a beaker of wine that I might wet my mind and say something clever."

Was it Plato who said that? I thought it was Aristophanes.

Aye. Well.

It was Greek.

- Cheers. - Cheers.

Now then.

What's this?

Lasagne.

Aye, I know that, but what's this?

Spinach.

Spinach?

Mm. Very good for the blood, you know, spinach. Full of iron.

I'm sure it is, but where's the meat?

- No meat in it, Calum. - No meat?

Good Lord, no. After all, I became a vet to take care of animals - not eat them.

So, along with everything else, you're a bit of a vegetarian?

Oh, very much of one, actually. In fact, ever since reading this book, really.

Oh. Another book.

Oh, yes. You see, up until then, I simply hadn't realised, you see,

that Homo sapiens is by nature a herbivore,

and that all this preying upon the other species is,

historically speaking anyway, a fairly recent perversion.

I see. So... spinach.

That's right.

Och, well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I suppose.

All right?

You haven't salted it.

Perish the thought.

Oh.

Have you any idea just how bad salt is for you?

Oh, that's bad for you as well now, is it? Salt.

Good Lord, yes. Haven't you heard about this latest theory

that a third of the heart attacks in this country are attributable to too much salt?

The other two thirds being attributable to smoking, drinking, and eating meat?

- That's right. - Something else you found out in a book?

Oh, yes.

I can't take my food without salt.

- Oh, you can really, you know. - No, I can't, Willy.

- Oh, of course you can. - Willy, I can't.

- You're just telling yourself that. - It's just the way I am.

- Because it's all in the mind. - Wherever it is, it happens to be a fact.

So if you don't mind, I'll take salt with mine, all right?!

Of course.

It's your life.

Er, where are you going?

To get some salt.

- Er, there isn't any. - What?

Salt. I happened to notice when I was cooking. There isn't any.

But there was a dirty great tin of it in there only yesterday. I saw it myself.

Really? Well, I wonder where it can have gone.

- How did the dinner party go? - Not very well.

Oh. As good as that?

Have you ever eaten seaweed? Unsalted seaweed? ln a cheese sauce?

Not very often, no.

Difficult to find, unsalted seaweed.

Did you know Willy was VG as well as TT?

- VG? - Vegetarian.

No. No, I didn't.

- Helen did. - Well, she might have told me.

- It could have been worse - your cooking. - I beg your pardon!

- It's not something you'll win prizes for. - I'm a good cook if I put my mind to it.

Remember me? I'm the man who ate your duck a I'orange and lived to tell the tale.

There was a good reason that didn't work.

Two good reasons. One: the duck hadn't been drawn properly.

- Two: you hadn't peeled those oranges. - I was in a hurry.

Anyway, there's a load of nonsense spoken about the culinary arts.

What is cooking? It's just following a formula.

- I think there's more to it than that. - That's a rumour put about by the women.

Really? I must tell Helen that.

Just give me a recipe and I will show you my cooking is as good as anybody else's.

But will anyone else eat it?

Look, I will cook you a meal

and then I will just sit back and watch you eat your words.

It's not the words that's going to be a problem, is it?

(sighs) Right.

You started this. Are you game or are you not?

- I'm game. When? - Are you and Helen free tomorrow night?

- I'll ask her. - Right.

- All right for you, Mr Herriot? - That's grand. Thanks.

Bernard, don't run off.

I do need your help.

- Would you hold her tail back, please? - (Mary Jane scoffs)

I think we can just about manage, actually, Miss Wain. The two of us.

Without you, I mean.

Hmph!

There's nothing to this job, Bernard. Really.

But you're quite right. There is a bit of a smell.

Oh, aye.

Well, it doesn't just affect people like you, you know. Gets to us vets too.

- Yes? - Yes.

And when it does... Have you got a hanky?

- Hanky? - Yes. Hanky.

- Aye. - Good.

Right, now, you hold it like this.

See? Corner to corner. Triangle. Hm?

Put it round your neck...

and tie it at the back.

And then...

There. Like that.

(Bernard sighs)

Good. You are now equipped to hold up the first stagecoach coming into town.

But most important, that will eliminate nearly all the smell.

I see.

All right, then, Bernard.

(mooing)

Ready when you are, Mr Herriot.

(both chuckle)

(James and Bernard laughing)

- Have you seen to her, then? - All done, Miss Wain.

Thanks for your help, Bernard. I couldn't have managed without you.

Anytime, Mr Herriot.

Anytime.

- Mr Dimmock. - Oh, it's you, Mr Herriot.

- I hope it's not inconvenient. - Come on in. Come on in.

Thanks.

- You know my wife, of course. - Mr Herriot.

Hello, Mrs Dimmock. Nice to see you again.

My sister-in-law, Mrs Pounder.

Still with us, then, are you, Mr Herriot? I say, still with us, then?

Well, just about, Mrs Pounder.

And, er, this is Seth, Mr Herriot. My fiance.

- Oh, really? - How do you do?

How are you, Seth?

- Right. Where's the patient, then? - Here he is, Mr Herriot.

Hello, Bonzo.

(all chuckle)

The original old soldier, eh?

Come on, old boy. Come on.

Up you come. Let's have a look at you. Up you come. There's a good boy.

- Has he been eating all right? - Like a horse, Mr Herriot.

Nothing to go by, though. I say, nothing to go by.

- I mean, look at our Jethro. - What sort of dog was your Jethro?

He wasn't a dog at all, Mr Herriot. He was our cousin.

Really?

Thank you.

Ah, Siegfried, the very man. Are you free tomorrow night?

Tomorrow night? Er, yes, I fancy so.

Good. Would you and Caroline do me the honour ofjoining me for dinner?

That's uncommonly civilised of you, Calum. Thank you.

Where were you thinking of taking us?

Oh, nowhere, actually. I thought we would eat here.

- Here? - That's right. Thank you.

Th-this would be tomorrow, would it, Calum?

- That's right. - Ah. Oh.

Well, that's a shame. You see, tomorrow night is Caroline's bridge night,

and nothing in the world will make her give up her bridge...

- Come on your own. I don't mind. - You don't want me on my own!

But you won't be. James and Helen are coming, and Willy's coming as well.

I wanted to give you all a wee treat. Something Greek, I thought.

Gosh.

- Can he cook moussaka? - That's what we are about to find out.

- "We", James? - He invited both of us.

- I can't come. What about the children? - Get a baby-sitter.

It's a bit late for that, I'm afraid.

You wouldn't be trying to get out of this, would you?

Me, James?

(coughs)

Hello.

It's all right, Willy. Er, can I help you?

Well, I hope so. Only it's me Henry, you see.

Oh.

Come in. Come in.

And what seems to be Henry's trouble?

- Well, I don't know. He just keeps... - Yes?

Well, he just keeps going...

Like that.

Good Lord. Well, we'd better take a wee look at him, then.

Anything I can do to help?

Only they are something of a specialism of mine - ailments of the caged bird.

Really?

Well, in that case, I'll tell you what.

While my assistant is conducting a cursory examination,

I'll take some personal details.

Oh. Right.

And it's Miss, er...?

- Plumb. - Plumb.

- Well... - How sweet.

- And the address? - I work at the chemist's, round t'corner.

Oh.

Well, well, little Nelly Dimmock, grown up at last, eh, James?

- Makes me feel damned old, I tell you. - Me too.

Always one of your favourites, wasn't she, that particular diminutive Dimmock?

She looked as if she'd blow away in a strong wind.

Now, though, from what you tell me, she's made good bones.

Oh. Very good bones.

- James, does it always take this long? - What?

To cook a moussaka?

Oh! Depends.

Does it? On what?

Well, the, er... the competence of the cook.

And what time the cook starts the cooking.

Helen tells me it can be quite a time-consuming operation.

"And one glass of red wine."

Ah, Calum.

Willy!

Well, I must say, I think this knocks your lasagne into a cocked hat. Smell that.

Mm. Very good.

Don't worry. You won't be repelled by anything I put in front of you this evening.

For you, I thought crudites to start, followed by a nice crisp salad.

Me?

Oh, I see. You mean I'm invited too?

Of course. It was the least I could do to repay the compliment.

Only I have this date, you see.

- A date? - Er, yes. With, erm...

- The wee lassie from the chemist? - That's the one. In fact...

Gosh. Is that the time already?

Oh, and, erm... bon appetit.

Where's young Willy? How on earth did he manage to wriggle out of this little treat?

Get himself excused on religious grounds, did he?

(James laughs) No, no. He's got a date.

- A date? - Mm-hm.

- Really? - Little blonde from the chemist's.

Good Lord.

- Well done, him. - Absolutely.

That's rather reassuring in a way, isn't it?

- Reassuring? - Mm.

That one of life's pleasures is still on his list of do's rather than don'ts.

Oh.

Until, of course, he comes across a book about it.

(moans and groans)

- James, let me recharge that for you. - No, no, no, Siegfried, please.

Oh. All right.

Do you think this is wise on empty tummies?

Probably extremely wise, James,

if Calum's cooking comes up to its almost-legendary reputation.

A most enormously underrated thing, you know,

the anaesthetic properties of gin and tonic.

Thank you.

Guaranteed, in my experience...

if taken in sufficient quantities...

to dull the pain of almost anybody's cooking.

"Grated nutmeg." Yes.

"Pepper." Yes.

"One clove of garlic."

One clove of garlic. One clove of garlic.

Hello, there.

Everything under control in the galley?

Fine, thanks. Won't be long now.

Hellish good.

Cheers.

Erm...

Now...

"Grated nutmeg. Pepper. Salt."

(giggles)

"And one glass of red wine."

Ach!

- (Siegfried laughs) - Whoops!

Oh, thank you, James.

Thank you.

Thank you, my dear James.

Cheers.

- And here's to you, James. - Thank you.

Do you mind if I tell you something in the strictest confidence?

Of course.

It's not something that I would say to just anybody.

Of course.

But do you know that I haven't been looking forward to this evening one bit?

Well, do you know...

I haven't either?

- Good Lord. - (James giggles)

In fact...

anything but.

My sentiments exactly, James.

My sentiments exactly, James.

But, James...

But...

since we are here,

and the evening has, er...

How can one put it? Erm...

Mellowed somewhat.

"Mellowed..."

That's exactly right.

Do you know, honestly, I can't remember when I've enjoyed myself as much.

Nor me, Siegfried. Nor me.

Which all goes to show...

You know that we are all, all of us...

and I mean all of us, no exceptions, we're all...

guilty of understr...

erm... of understr...

underestimating... our fellow man.

Well, it's... (exhales) it's something we all do, Siegfried.

Yes, James, we all do it.

All the time, and we shouldn't.

Because, you know, when you get down to it,

there honestly is a hell of a lot of good in everyone.

Oh!

Even teetotallers.

Even teetotallers.

And even... vegetarians.

Even vegetarians.

And even... antisalinarians.

Even antisalinarians.

- Hey, James. - What?

- Do you think he's all right in there? - Who?

- The great elk. - (laughs uproariously)

- Well, do you think he's all right? - Well, I...

Well...

Perhaps we ought to check.

Absolutely right. That's what we ought to do. We ought to go and have a look.

Right.

Now then, James. After you, my dear friend.

Oh! Thanks, Siegfried.

- Oh, I tell you what. - Mm?

Oh! Siegfried, Siegfried, Siegfried...

That's extraordinarily courteous of you, James.

Poor Calum!