Original subtitles

Hello, Mr Biggins.

- So tha's come back again? - Just, actually.

Aye, and about bloody time.

Bye.

Bloody thing.

Anything l can do?

'Appen, if it was summat reliable like an 'orse.

- How are you, Dan? - Well.

Older, creakier. Not much wiser, l shouldn't think.

l'm glad you came to no harm, lad.

Thanks.

What you waiting for? They're in t' top field.

Here. l'll take that.

Thanks, Dan.

Oh, James. Oh, James. l thought it would be next week.

No, l got away early.

- He's grown. - They do.

- Hello. - Hello.

- When did the others get back? - Two months ago.

You can imagine how pleased we were to see them. lt hasn't been easy...

- managing without a vet for so long. - l'm sure.

l tell you what. Why don't we telephone them?

Let them know that l'm back as well.

Skeldale.

Hello, sir. ls that the Farnon veterinary residence, sir?

This is Farnons, yes.

Oh, l'm sorry, sir. Would you speak up? Would you please not mumble, sir?

Yes, it is.

- What's that, sir? - This is the Farnons veterinary residence.

Oh, that's good. Would you have a chap there whose name is Mr Tristram Farnon?

Speaking.

Could you speak up, sir? Could you please mumble a little less, sir?

This is Tristan Farnon. And the name is Tristan. Tristan.

Oh, that's who l'm wanting to speak to, sir. Mr Tristram.

l've told you you're speaking to him. Who is this?

- Mulligan, sir. - Mulligan?

The name's Mulligan.

Mulligan...

Sure, you must remember me. lf you don't remember me, you'll remember me dog.

He's as big as the side of a house and twice as thick.

- That would be Clancy, would it? - That's right, sir. Now you've got him.

- So you have. - What exactly is the matter with Clancy?

Ah, well now, sir, that,

as the great Mr William Wordsworth himself said, sir,

is the question.

He is foaming at the mouth like he's got a bar of carbolic stuck down him,

and he's making noises to make your blood boil,

and he's after taking chunks out of anybody who goes near him,

and that includes me, sir, who's weaned him since he was a pup.

So l've decided to get him over to you, sir, as soon as possible.

Yes, wait a minute, Mr Mulligan. lf the dog's condition is as serious as you say,

surely you should send for the police.

Please, sir. lf you would just speak up a bit. Please don't mumble.

Send for the police.

Ah, well now, sir, l've done that, sir,

and at this very moment the ambulance is removing the three injured peelers, sir.

l said to the sergeant you have such a winning way with the animal,

and he said he was delighted to hear that, and would l get him to you without delay.

So, Mr Tristram, as l know you're there, sir, l'm on me way.

Hello? Hello?

Good grief...

Jimmy.

Siegfried, l have to go out for five minutes. You might listen for the phone.

Out? They're not even open yet.

There is the odd occasion when l leave the premises

for reasons other than a richly earned pint of bitter.

l must try to remember. Things have changed.

- Siegfried, do you remember Mulligan? - Mulligan...

Was a customer before the war. Had a monstrous hound...

- Ah, name of Clancy, right? - Mm.

Sort of an unholy cross between Cerberus and a Connemara pony.

Cerberus?

The three-headed dog, my dear boy, that guards the entrance to the underworld.

Oh, yes. That Cerberus.

Yes.

l realise it's not the sort of clue that crops up in the crosswords you're addicted to.

- What about Mulligan? - What?

Oh, nothing. lt just seems that since we've opened up shop,

he hasn't been around. Probably gone back to lreland, taken Clancy.

Your faces, you and James,

when you knew it was Clancy you were going to have to deal with.

Oh, the pair of cream-faced loons he used to make you look.

l'm surprised you remember. You made it your business not to be there.

What? What absolute rubbish.

That'll be the day, when l allow myself to be intimidated by a mere canine.

The mere canine in question does happen to be Clancy.

And like all canines, my dear brother, a coward at heart.

Oh, l see. So if Mulligan were to come in here now with Clancy,

- you'd face him alone and unaided. - Of course.

Jolly good, cos you're going to get the chance.

- What do you mean? - He rang five minutes ago.

He's on his way in with the dog, with what sounds like an advanced case of rabies.

Ah. So that's why you were scuttling for cover.

Quite right. l'm happy to admit l'm scared to death of the thing.

Then, pray, don't let me detain you.

You're sure you don't want me to hang about with bandages and things?

- Please go. - Right.

- Just see who that is while l'm drying off. - No. You said...

- James. - Hello, Tris.

- How are you? - l'm fine.

- Helen. - Good to see you.

lt's good to see you too.

Shh.

Would this be the Farnon veterinary residence, sir?

You rat.

Siegfried.

Hey. Ha.

- That's the demob suit, is it, James? - Mm.

What do you think?

lt's not quite as horrendous as the one in which they launched Tristan on the world,

but compared to the monstrosity l had... Will you accept some advice?

Find a dark and ill-frequented cupboard, consign that to it

and then go at once and get measured for something else.

So here we all are again.

Well, almost all.

To absent friends.

Absent friends.

Oh, no.

Oh, James...

Hello?

- Veterinary? - Yes.

Biggins here.

Oh, hello, Mr Biggins.

l've got a heifer badly.

- What seems to be the trouble? - There's no ''seems'' about it.

She's badly, l tell thee.

What l mean is, what are her symptoms?

She's badly.

Yes, all right. Give me half an hour, l'll come out to her.

Here, hang on a minute. Does tha need to come out to see her?

- l thought you said she was badly. - She is.

From what you've told me, l can hardly make a diagnosis over the telephone.

Just what shape is she in?

Well, she's, like, laid out, isn't she?

- That sounds pretty serious, Mr Biggins. - Oh, aye.

But, then, she's often laid out.

Mr Biggins, it's 3am. You have got me out of bed.

Do you want me to look at your cow or not?

l fancy tha'll not suit theeself until thee does, so tha'd best come.

l'm sorry, Mr Biggins, but l'd say she's just about had it.

l told you, eh?

We could try her with a stimulant, but l don't think it'll work.

More money.

Mr Biggins, do you want me to give her an injection or don't you?

Aye. Go on.

All that bloody fuss for nowt.

And still she deed on me.

So, why do we put up with it? That's what l'd like to know.

- What do you mean, James? - Just what l say, Siegfried.

For God's sake, this is 1946.

We've just spent years fighting a world war to keep down tyranny...

So why do we come home to people like Biggins

who seem to think they can go on treating the rest of the world like dirt?

- Here we are, then, James. - Cheers.

Well, something hasn't changed.

The one constant factor in a changing world - best Yorkshire bitter.

- Feeling better now? - l'm sorry l sounded off like that.

lf he'd had to deal with Biggins in the night, St Francis would have sounded off.

lt wasn't just that, Tris. Bit of a shaker really.

How do you mean?

Well, it's the oddest thing.

l went into the byre, l started the examination and my mind went blank.

l felt like a raw graduate handling his first case.

lt's not all that odd, surely, James.

l was very lucky. l spent my war doing the same job.

l doubt if you've looked at a cow in anger in over four years.

- You think that's what it is. - Sure of it. Simply ring-rusty.

No more than Siegfried was, l imagine, when he got back.

Not that you'd get him to admit it.

Well, let's hope so.

Come on, now, James.

Sorry.

New boots?

Daddy bought them for me. Just like farmers wear, see?

Most impressive.

lt's all l can do to stop him going to bed in them.

- Problems? - Mrs Pumphrey on the phone.

- Tricki-Woo? - Who else?

Nothing trivial, l hope.

lt's a matter of some delicacy. She refused to go into it over the telephone.

l see. Better and better.

- What's Tricki-Woo? - A dog.

lt's not so much a dog, James. More a reincarnation, really.

What's that?

Well, a Chinese emperor thousands of years ago has now turned up as a dog.

- Are you going to see him? - Oh, l'm not, but your dad is.

Dad, can l come?

lf you promise to behave. Very important lady, Mrs Pumphrey.

Do they still do hampers at Fortnum's, do you think?

l'll show her my new boots.

Tricki...

- My dear Mr Herriot. - Hello, Mrs Pumphrey.

How nice to see you again.

- And this must be your son. - That's right. Jimmy, the one.

Hello, Jimmy.

Hello, Mrs Pumphrey. Do you like my new boots?

Oh, they're beautiful.

Thank heavens you've come so promptly.

- What's the trouble? - Not in front of Tricki or the b-o-y.

Now, you come here and keep Tricki company.

There's a good boy. Daddy won't be long.

Pour him a glass of lemonade, Hodgekin, and then bring a couple of glasses for us.

l'll be back in a minute, Jimmy.

Oh.

The fact does have to be faced. None of us are getting any younger, including Tricki.

Very true.

On the other hand, he has certain responsibilities the rest of us don't have.

How do you mean?

The perpetuation of a line.

He is after all, let us not forget, of royal blood.

l must admit, l have been somewhat possessive over the years.

Girlfriends as such for Tricki were not something l ever actively encouraged.

However, Tricki and l did have a full and frank discussion recently

about what l believe are called the facts of life.

So, to cut a long story short, a suitable partner was found for him.

- That's wonderful. - But it isn't, you see, Mr Herriot.

ln fact, as it turned out, anything but.

- What exactly happened? - That's just the point.

Nothing happened. l wasn't of course in attendance myself,

but l'm reliably informed that Tricki treated her with total indifference,

in spite of the fact that she, the little hussy, was more than enthusiastic.

Hodgekin, what are you doing? You know these are Tricki-Woo's favourite trees.

We don't want him getting pricky-paw, do we?

lt's the old problem. Too much food, too little exercise.

But is there anything you can do?

Mrs Pumphrey, l'll make you out a strict diet sheet, all right?

lf you follow it to the letter - no chocolates -

then l'll guarantee that in three months he'll be ready to found a dynasty.

Yes.

Hodgekin, we're still waiting, you know.

For our lemonade.

l'd like your opinion, James. You'll be driving it most of the time.

Here we are, Mr Farnon. And if l say so myself, a gift at what l'm asking for her.

- Looks in very good condition. - Handsome.

That's the word that springs most readily to my lips, Mr Herriot. Erm...

Right, James, let's see what she can do. Hop in, Mr Hammond.

Has a respectable turn of speed, Mr Hammond.

Oh, yes.

A good loud horn.

Aha...

What one's looking for in a car, Mr Hammond...

Hang on to that, would you?

..isn't simply speed, it's also...

Here we are.

..reliability.

Mr Farnon... Mr Farnon.

More than just reliability, durability.

A vet working in a country district

does often have to face the most horrific road conditions.

So, in judging a car, one has to be absolutely convinced

that it can cope.

l tell you what, she's a mite inclined to pull to the left when you brake.

Right, James. What do you think of her?

Certainly seems sturdy enough.

Mm. Of course, we could take her out into the country.

- Try her on some real ups and downs. - No, Siegfried, l'm more than happy.

Sure?

Well, Mr Hammond, she seems to be just about what we're after,

so if you'd be kind enough to have those brakes seen to for us,

- we'll take her. - Right, Mr Farnon.

Oh, l'll take that.

l'll see to all the paperwork and l'll bring the car round tomorrow.

Well, it won't be me personally, like. lt'll be one of the lads.

See you some more.

- A visitor for me? - She's having coffee with Helen.

Really?

Hello, young James.

Jimmy. The word is sorry.

Sorry.

- She's having coffee? - l'll say.

- We had to stay in Washington... - Caroline.

Hello, Siegfried.

- l thought you were in America. - l was.

Up until about a fortnight ago.

But...

Have you two... been introduced?

Yes, of course. Now, if you'll excuse me... Nice to meet you.

- Thank you for the coffee. - Not at all.

- She's nice. - She's my partner's wife.

- You met James, didn't you? - Erm... l knew of him, of course,

but l don't believe we were ever formally introduced.

- You look marvellous. - So do you.

- ls this a flying visit? - No. We've moved back.

Oh, splendid.

ln fact, that's why l called. Well, one of the reasons.

Mm?

l'm thinking of buying a horse and l wondered if you'd advise me.

Nothing l'd like better.

Good.

Her name's Caroline Fisher. Daddy was something important in the war office,

presumably still is.

When war broke out, he got shunted to London, then Washington,

and Caroline went with him.

Between you and me, old Siegfried took it rather badly.

Oh?

The one great love of his life.

- Really? - Oh, yes.

Sorry, Dad.

- Skeldale House. - Sowerby here.

Hello, Mr Sowerby.

Thanks. lt's good to be back.

What's the problem with the sow?

- Her breathing's a bit heavy. - Oh, l see.

- Has she started? - l'm not sure.

Jimmy, l'm on the telephone.

Sorry, Mr Sowerby. You were saying?

All she's doing is breathing heavy.

- Oh. - Sorry.

Jimmy, for the last time, get that thing out of here.

- Sorry. - lt's OK.

- Come into the kitchen, Jimmy. - l'll drop you back.

l'm sorry about that, Mr Sowerby. l'll come out as soon as l can,

make sure there are no complications. All right?

Bye.

- Mr Herriot? - Yes.

Hello, Mr Garrett. Something wrong with Gem?

lt's her leg, Mr Herriot. She was right as rain yesterday.

Today she's got a real bad limp.

Pop her on the table. l'll have a look.

Come on, old girl. Oh.

There we are. That's it.

- This one, isn't it? - That's it.

All right, Gem. lt's all right.

There you are, Mr Garrett. A thorn.

lt's nasty too.

- l'll give her a local anaesthetic, all right? - Right.

Steady, old girl.

lf you just hold his head steady. Really steady.

All right, Gem. All right.

lt's all right.

There's a good dog. Good dog.

All right. That's all right.

What the...?

Sorry, Mr Garrett. My son.

At the window.

Jimmy, will you please come down from there?

Ow.

- Mum. - Jimmy?

Jimmy.

You're quite sure it's just your arm that's hurting?

- You haven't got a headache? - No.

- Sure, now? - Yes.

Thank goodness for that. You could have broken your neck.

Jimmy. How many times have you been told this week about climbing up there?

Three times, is it? Four?

And not just by me. l heard Uncle Siegfried telling you this morning.

lf you don't behave, l won't take you round the farms any more.

l'll find another boy to help me.

- Little lad all right, is he? - Yes, thanks, Mr Garrett.

- No harm done. - Well, that's the important thing.

Of course it is.

Off you go now, and have a wash.

The other boy... Would he have my boots?

Go on, Jimmy. Bedtime. That's a good boy.

- What's the matter with you, James? - l don't know what you mean.

l'm sorry, James, but you must do.

l know he shouldn't have been climbing, but it's not the end of the world.

lf there's something on your mind, please let's talk about it.

l've told you, Helen, there is nothing on my mind.

l don't know what you're talking about.

- Oh... - l'll be about an hour, Siegfried.

Right you are, James.

Siegfried.

Have you had much chance to talk to James since he's been back?

We've had the odd word.

A mite edgy, l'd say, for James.

Yes.

- Helen outside? - Mm-hm.

Ah. Helen, there you are.

Sorry about Caroline and the ball.

He does seem to have a facility, your offspring,

for appearing to be in every room in the house at the same time.

Listen, Helen.

Now that you're back in situ in Skeldale,

we really can't have you doing all your own work

and all that Mrs Hall used to do as well.

- l seem to be managing all right. - No, no, no, no, no.

Simply won't do.

l thought l'd advertise in the local paper for some decent body, don't you think?

- Fine, Siegfried. lf that's what you want. - Yes.

And you can help me vet the letters.

Provided, of course, that we get some.

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

Good.

And James?

He's settling down all right, is he?

l don't know, Siegfried. l really don't.

Why? What's the matter?

l don't know that either. lt's just that...

Well, God knows, Siegfried, James is no more a plaster saint that the rest of us,

but if there's one thing he is blessed with, it's an even temperament.

lt used to take a lot to upset him, it really did.

But since he got back last month, well... lt's not even that he hasn't been equable.

By his standards, he's been positively ratty.

- Have you talked to him about it? - Yes, of course.

What did he say?

That's the even more worrying part. lt's not even that he's not aware of the fact,

it's just that he doesn't seem able to do anything about it.

Mm.

Tell me, Helen, have you ever known James fish?

Fish?

What about this, James?

As lzaak Walton said, with a fine understanding of the priorities in life,

we have laid aside business and gone a-fishing.

- l like that. - Hm.

Lord alive, James. We're under attack.

l wonder what his generation's going to remember about the war.

Just a haze of uniforms, l suppose.

Boxes filled with chocolates being sent off to other people.

Grown-ups crouched over wireless sets

perpetually telling you to be quiet because they're listening to the prime minister.

The best way to remember it, perhaps.

What about your war, James? How was that?

A lot less painful than most people's, l'm sure.

l was lucky. l'm just glad it's all over.

So what's the matter?

- That obvious, is it? - Oh, come on, James.

Don't forget l've known you just about all your working life.

Oh, l don't know, Siegfried.

Those last two months before demob l was ticking off the dates on the calendar.

- And yet now that l'm home... - You don't feel at home.

Something like that. lt doesn't make sense, does it?

Yes. Good deal more than you suppose.

After all, how long were we away? Four years?

Four years during which the world... turned upside down.

An awful lot of things changed in four years, James.

Darrowby's changed. The Darrowby we left has gone for ever.

More importantly, we've all changed.

And if you don't think that's true...

just compare your cherished standards and beliefs

with the ones you held then. We're not the same people, not quite.

So when we're all flung together again in Skeldale,

just as suddenly in a way as we were torn apart,

we shouldn't really be surprised if there's a period of adjustment necessary.

Do you mean you felt just the same?

Not just the same. After all, we're very different kinds of people.

But if l learned

that you've found it all more difficult to come to terms with than most,

l wouldn't be a bit surprised.

Why?

Because you had so much more to come back to than either Tristan or l ever had,

and therefore so much more to adjust to.

- Such as? - A wife, like Helen.

To say nothing of that over there.

Oh, l envy you, James. l really do.

- You envy me? - Oh, yes.

Very much.

- Siegfried thinks we should frame it. - Yes.

Siegfried hasn't seen our ration books. That's for supper tomorrow.

You, young man, can go upstairs and get undressed.

Come on.

There we go.

Can l go fishing with you next time, Dad? Please?

- l couldn't do it without you. - Thanks.

Go on. l'll be up in a minute. Go on, Sam.

Helen, what you were saying the other day about... well, you know.

Bear with me, eh?

Let me work it out my own way.

- All right? - All right, James.

Gentlemen. l honestly didn't think it possible on the face of this planet,

but l appear to have managed it. l think l've found her.

- Who? - A successor, Tristan.

A worthy successor to the incomparable Mrs Hall.

Come and meet her. Where's Helen? ln the kitchen?

- Yes. - Helen.

Helen.

Could you spare me a moment?

Now then, Mrs Hubbard.

Come in. Come on, James.

- This is my partner... Mr James Herriot. - Mrs Hubbard.

- This is Mrs Herriot. Mrs Hubbard. - Pleased to meet you.

- This is my brother, Tristan Farnon. - Hello.

So, well now, then, Mrs Hubbard.

When could you start? Mrs Herriot's looking after us at the moment,

but she really has got a great deal too much to do already.

Well... Monday?

Monday would be splendid.

Well... Welcome to Skeldale, Mrs Hubbard.

Thank you.

- Would you like to see the kitchen? - Yes, please.

There we are, then. lt seems at last, slowly but surely,

we do begin to put things together again.

l went to the doctor's this morning.

Mm-hm?

Good news.

What?

Oh, that's marvellous.

- When? - Early in the New Year.

- Helen, you're mad. - Why?

You knew you were pregnant and you let me walk you across those stones.

- James, it's ages yet. - lt's not the point.

- You might have fallen over. - l didn't, did l?

What's pregnant?

lt means you're going to have a little brother, or perhaps a sister.

l'd rather have a dog.

lt isn't going to be easy, mind.

- What isn't? - l mean, it's all right at the moment.

Well, just about.

When Jimmy had his accident the other day,

l got the impression that for Siegfried things were getting out of hand.

After all, they are both bachelors.

And when the baby comes...

l don't suppose either of them knew what it would be like living with a child.

And now?

l must say l hadn't thought of that.

lt is something we are going to have to think about, James.

Yes, l suppose you're right.

Ah, my dears. Breathes there a man with soul so dead

whose heart does not positively dance at the prospect of prime English roast beef?

Browned without and blushing gently at its heart.

And Yorkshire puddings golden with gravy.

Garnished with delicately crisped roasted potatoes,

the succulent carrot and the Belgian sprout.

Here we are, Mr Farnon.

l expect you'll want to carve.

l'll just go and fetch the gravy.

Now then...

- Argh. - Siegfried.

What was that you said, Siegfried?

Blushing gently at its heart?

There we are. Everything all right for you?

Fine, Mrs Hubbard. Fine.

Right. Well, l'll leave you to it then.

Bon appetite.

l grew these myself.

- What are we going to do with it? - Put it on there. l'll get rid of it.

- All finished? - Yes, thank you, Mrs Hubbard.

- All right? - Splendid, thank you. Splendid.

l can't remember roast beef quite like it.

l always say you can't go wrong with a nice bit of beef.

Virtually impossible, l'd say.

You've not eaten much, Mr Herriot.

lt's my digestive system, Mrs Hubbard.

Hasn't quite recovered yet. RAF cooking.

l've got to say it. lf there's one thing l can't stand, it's to see good food wasted.

- What does ''splendid'' mean? - Very good.

- Then what does ''ruined'' mean? - Not quite so good.

The questions they ask at that age.

Come on, Jimmy.

l do think some allowance has to be made for the fact that,

with the best will in the world,

Mrs Hubbard does not have access to the sort of provisions Mrs Hall had.

Mind you, as she always says herself,

can't go wrong with a nice bit of beef.

And of course we're going through a period of shortages.

Real extreme national privation.

lt isn't every family that knows a farmer

who's prepared to slip them the occasional joint of beef.

Hm.

- l suppose there is a pudding. - Yes.

Treacle tart. Your favourite.

Oh, good.

Thank you.

Lovely to hear that sound again.

Yes, it is, isn't it?

l just can't see Tris somehow as a committed... campanologist.

Oh, he's a real enthusiast.

Mind you, it has to be said there are certain attendant functions

that are rather close to his heart.

Which makes me think, ''lt might be rather nice to have a drink now.''

- Would you like one? - l'd love one.

Good.

Oh dear. What happened here? What happened here?

Who are you?

- ls he dead? - No, no, no, no.

He's knocked out. He must have stumbled or something.

Here. Put this under his head.

Hm?

Thanks. Good idea.

- Mr Farnon. - Yes.

- George Mason, Mr Farnon. - Hello, Mr Mason.

l just wanted to say... Well, thanks for taking care of me dad.

lt was the least we could do. He seems to be quite comfortable now.

Oh, yes. Thank God.

- You're Mr Farnon the vet, aren't you? - Yes.

Only... Well, it's this dog, you see...

See, er...

lt's not that she's a bad dog, Mr Farnon.

lt's just that, er... Well... Dad's got so feeble lately.

Well, she's just too strong for him.

When he takes her out for a walk and she sees summat,

she just pulls him ower. lt's not the first time it's happened.

Mm-hm. l see.

Couldn't you find him a smaller dog?

lt's got to come to that, hasn't it, miss.

The question is...

what to do about this lass.

You couldn't want her put down.

Not a beautiful creature like that.

Oh, good God. No, no, no, no.

Only, er... Well, we can't have her.

Well, l mean, we're both out working all day.

So what to do?

Do you think your father would let her go if a good home could be found for her?

Like l said, it's Hobson's choice, isn't it?

Tell you what. Will you leave it to me?

- Right? - Right.

Well, thanks.

- Cheers. - All the best.

Evening, Constable. Just rounding off the evening with a bit of a singsong.

Do you happen to have the time, sir?

Time?

Well, it must be getting on towards midnight.

Oh, it's got on to it, sir,

and got off it again.

Good Lord. Really?

Here. Sup that, and stop tormenting t' lad.

Oh, ta.

All the best.

Can you hear something, Sergeant?

- Sounds like singing, sir. - Yes.

Bloody hell.

Quiet.

Quiet. lt's t' law.

- Whose beat is this, Sergeant? - PC Goole, sir, tonight.

Oh, really?

You know who that is, don't you?

That's lnspector Green.

- Mr High and Mighty Green. - Quiet.

He's had his knife into me ever since he got here.

You know for why?

l'll tell you for why. Because he reckons l'm thick.

- Me, thick. - Will you be quiet.

No, l will not be quiet. He's had it coming to him, Mr High and Mighty Green.

- Tonight's the night he's going to get it. - No.

Argh.

- l could have sworn l heard something. - Yes, sir.

l'm sure l heard something down there.

- Good evening, gentlemen. - Good evening.

lnspector Green, isn't it?

Bit of a late night, Mr Farnon?

Bit of an early morning, actually, lnspector.

Nothing better than starting the day with a displaced calf-bed.

- Good night, sir. - Good night.

Good night, lnspector.

Good thinking, James.

Been taught by masters, haven't l?

You do have to hand it to them vets, sir. Their dedication's an inspiration to us all.

No more than that of our own lads, Sergeant.

No more than that of our own.

She did have a husband, you know.

- Mrs Hubbard. - Oh.

Apparently, he was a martyr to his stomach...

their entire married life.

Ulcers.

Really? Try that.

Thank you.

ln fact, it was the ulcers that got him in the end.

Mind you, she wasn't a bit surprised, she said.

He never did seem to do much more than pick at his food.

Finished already, Mr Farnon?

Bit of a heavy night last night, Mrs Hubbard.

ls it worth it, though, eh? That's what l used to say to me husband.

But l might as well have been talking to t' fireback for all t' notice he took.

l'm sorry, Siegfried. This cannot go on.

- Skeldale. - Mrs Pumphrey speaking.

Oh, hello, Mrs Pumphrey.

- Mr Herriot, please. - l'm afraid James is out at the moment.

- When will he return? - Well, hold on. l'll see.

Where's James? lt's Mrs Pumphrey.

He's over at Meddle's injecting those new stirks. He'll be there all morning.

You'll have to deal with her yourself.

Jolly good.

l suppose l can take it that while l'm away you will deal with that other matter.

Yes, yes. Yes.

- Very well. - Good.

Mrs Hubbard, l wonder if we might just have a word.

Everything's all right l hope, Mr Farnon.

Oh, fine, fine.

lt's just that, well, l'm not sure that we're not taking advantage of your good nature.

What do you mean, Mr Farnon?

Well, asking you to run and clean the house and do all the cooking as well,

and all for the really quite paltry sum we give you...

Mr Farnon, don't say any more.

l wouldn't take another penny from you. Not one penny.

- You wouldn't? - l should say not.

l love doing for you. Especially cooking for you.

- You do? - Oh, yes.

l don't mind telling you, Mr Farnon,

l don't think l've ever cooked for a more polite or appreciative set of people.

My dear Mrs Hubbard, that's a shocking cold.

l don't know where l got it from, Mr Farnon.

lt's something l never have, is a cold.

Well, it's probably the strain, you see, of having to do too much.

- But you must go home immediately. - lf you really think l should.

lndeed l do, Mrs Hubbard.

And... Mrs Hubbard, you must not even think of setting foot in this house again

until you're fully recovered.

- Right? - Right.

Bless you.

What is the matter with Tricki, Mrs Pumphrey?

Oh, nothing at all, Mr Farnon. Anything but.

- lt's just that she's here, you see. - She?

- Tricki's intended. - Oh, l see.

And you want me to, as it were, supervise the nuptials.

Oh, precisely, Mr Farnon.

Here she is.

Annabel de Lacey Guinevere of Crumpton.

Tricki chose her himself.

Hello.

l'll just go and see if Tricki's wakened up yet.

Hello.

Excuse me.

Hello. What's your name?

- Vera. - Vera...

What a lovely name that is.

Oh, l'm Tristan Farnon, by the way...

Come on, old girl.

Here we are. Hop in the back. Come on. Hup.

There's a girl.

Right we are, Mr Mason.

Now, l told you, she's going to a good home where she'll be well looked after.

All right?

- Where are you taking her? - Lord Hulton's place.

Always room for another dog there.

Does the old man know?

No, his son thought it'd be less upsetting if he didn't.

Can l have it, please, Dad?

You want that one, do you? You're going to look after him, are you?

Please can l have it?

- How much? - lt'll be two bob, love.

- There we are. - Ta.

lf you could hold on to it until we finish the shopping, please.

- And make sure it's a man rabbit. - l will.

- Thanks, Dad. - Come on, Jimmy.

Come on.

- Do you want that? - Hm? Oh, sorry.

- Jimmy, look at these. - Mr Herriot.

- Oh, Mr Herriot. - Hello, Mrs Pumphrey.

lf l can steal him for one moment, my dear, we must have a private word.

l took all your advice, Mr Herriot.

No chocolate biscuits, lots of walkies.

And l'm happy to tell you that it's happened. Tricki is to become a father.

- Oh, Mrs Pumphrey, that's splendid. - lsn't it, though?

Tricki's so full of himself, there's no holding him at the moment.

Still l expect if anyone knows just how he must be feeling, you do, Mr Herriot.

l suppose so.

Oh, and do thank your colleague Mr Farnon for his good offices at the time.

- Mr Farnon? - Mr Tristan.

l did ask for you, of course, but you weren't available, so he came out instead.

- Didn't he mention it? - Actually, Mrs Pumphrey, no, he didn't.

Oh, well, no matter. Still, l was jolly grateful that he was there at the time

because it was by no means straightforward.

- Wasn't it? - Oh, no.

When l introduced them, she wouldn't have anything to do with Tricki.

Bared her teeth at him and growled.

- Good Lord. - Then Mr Farnon took charge.

''Just leave them to me, Mrs Pumphrey. l'll have no nonsense here.''

And as you can see from the result, he obviously didn't.

Obviously.

You will be available to be in attendance on the day, won't you?

- l wouldn't miss it for all the world. - Oh, splendid.

Thank you.

Come along, Hodgekin. Don't let's dawdle.

James. You remember Miss Grantley, don't you?

- Goats, right? - Yes.

One of them's lacerated herself badly.

Oh, l see. Well, l'll pop out straight after lunch and have a look at her. All right?

- Thank you very much. - lt's a pleasure.

- Goodbye. - Bye-bye.

- Bye. - Bye, bye.

Good Lord, James. Couldn't you have kept her talking a bit longer?

- Who is that divine creature? - Her name is Miss Grantley.

She has a sick goat and she would like us to pay it a visit. All right?

Really?

Yes... lnteresting animal, the goat.

Been part of the world of man since the dawn of time.

Really?

Oh, yes. lt's got this most incredible metabolism,

capable of producing good milk from food that other animals couldn't stomach.

Gosh. l never thought of it like that.

- Could you pass me the scissors, Tris? - Mm.

Thanks.

Yes. Plenty of good roughage here. And you feed them the whole grain as well?

- Oh, yes. - Good.

Because that's what keeps up the pH in the rumen.

Oh. l didn't realise that.

You can get hypertrophy of the rumenal walls,

not to mention inhibition of the cellulose-digesting bacteria with low pH.

Golly.

- Er... One thing does worry me, actually. - Oh, yes.

The people next door have got coccidiosis.

There's no chance my goats could pick it up, is there?

- ln my experience... - Most unlikely.

Most types of coccidiosis are specific to their individual hosts. Right, James?

Quite right.

Right...

But they could pick up worms, couldn't they?

- The point about worms... - That's a rather different proposition.

Because the common nematodes are the same in both species,

well, there is a real danger of infection. Right, James?

Oh, yes.

ln layman's language, what it all boils down to is anthelmintics

and their effect on trichostrongyles, haemonchus and ostertagia. You agree?

- Definitely. - Golly, Mr Farnon.

What a lot you do know about goats.

Oh, l don't know. l suppose that if one is passionately interested in the subject,

one does tend to immerse oneself in it.

l also think that with goats,

well... either one is a goat person

or one isn't. Wouldn't you agree?

Oh, yes, Mr Farnon. Yes.

How would you compare the Toggenburg with the Anglo Nubian?

Sound animals, both of them.

Well, thank you for coming so promptly, Tris.

- lt's been most interesting. - For both of us, Anne.

Oh. And thank you, Mr Herriot, for your contribution.

Don't mention it.

Well, l'll... l'll see you on Saturday...

- at the dance. - Right.

- Goodbye, Anne. - Bye.

- Well, that's cleared up very nicely. - Right, Mr Farnon.

- Siegfried, have you got a moment? - Yes, of course.

Right you are, Harry. That's it. Thank you very much.

Oh, no.

That's it...

Oh. Mr Farnon.

Er... l were just seeing how she were going on, like.

You see, l happened to spot her the other day in the back of Lord Hulton's brake.

So, as l was passing, like, l thought l'd just call in.

l'm sure nobody would object to your calling in as often as you want, Mr Mason.

You won't say owt to our George, will you?

l mean, well...

l know he were only trying to do what were best for me.

Let me get you a pup, Mr Mason. Something smaller you could handle.

That's very kind of you, Mr Farnon, but no thanks.

No...

l never want to get that attached to another dog.

Thanks all the same.

There must be something you can do for that poor man, Siegfried.

Yes, l know.

- Siegfried. - Yes.

She's back.

- Who is? - Mother Hubbard. She's in the kitchen

intent presumably on doing something unspeakable to our lamb chops.

The ones l disembowelled our ration book to buy.

Oh. Erm...

You did say, if my memory serves me, that you would sort out this problem

- the moment she was fully recovered. - Yes.

- James, it's Mr Biggins. - Oh, not again.

James, how often have l told you not to let yourself be intimidated?

Siegfried, l do not feel intimidated.

lt's just that every time l see Biggins l have an urge to throttle him.

My dear James, it's simply a question of not losing one's temper.

- Let me deal with it. - Hang on, Siegfried. What about Mrs...

Mr Biggins.

What can we do for you?

l'll take some iodine. Not too big a bottle.

- lodine? - l've got a cow with wooden tongue.

Well, you'll get no iodine from me. That treatment went out

at the same time as attempting to predict one's political prospects

from the entrails of chickens.

Here's today's treatment for wooden tongue.

Sulphanilamide.

Silly master. l fancy l know what's best for one of me own cows.

Not if you propose painting their tongues with iodine, you don't.

Three tablespoonfuls in a pint of water at the commencement of the treatment.

l've told thee, all l need is iodine.

And then one tablespoonful three times a day.

lodine.

And when you've finished the packet, come back and l'll give you more.

Hm. More expensive, of course, than iodine. Eh?

Take it, Mr Biggins, with my compliments.

And if it doesn't cure the condition within a week...

consider it a gift.

Hm.

You see how simple it is, James, if only one keeps one's temper.

Yes, Siegfried.

Can we now expect you to display similar strength of mind with our other problem?

Good Lord, Mrs Hubbard, your cold hasn't cleared up at all.

lt's not a cold, Mr Farnon. That's the trouble.

- Oh? - Fur and feathers.

- l beg your pardon? - That's what's doing it, you see.

Ever since l started working here l've never stopped sneezing.

And the doctor reckons it's because l'm allergic

to animals.

But, Mrs Hubbard, does that mean we may be deprived of your services?

However will you manage, Mr Farnon, without me?

Well, we shall just have to manage, Mrs Hubbard.

lnto every life, as they say, a little rain must fall.

She seems to be crying.

Yes.

- Why was she crying? - What?

Well, it's a bit... upsetting, that's all.

l don't think any of us realised the gap it filled in that woman's lonely life,

coming round here to cook for us.

- But you haven't sacked her? - lsn't that what you wanted?

l didn't expect you to sack her. Simply separate her from the stove.

lt was entirely her own decision to go, Tristan. After all, she does have her...

pride.

- We must go after her, bring her back. - Too late, Tristan.

She was completely adamant that she would never set foot in this house again.

Good grief.

- l feel terrible. - How do you suppose l feel?

lt's not always easy being head of this household,

however titular the title.

Being the one who, however infrequently, has to make the hard decisions.

You'll find out one day.

Ah, James. Would you be going near Lord Hulton's place?

l could go that way.

Would you drop me off there, pick me up on the way back?

- Of course. - l put the car in for a service this morning.

Oh, no, l won't come in, thank you, Mr Herriot.

l do feel at a time like this my place is by Tricki's side.

Poor dear. How he's suffering.

- Tricki's suffering, Mrs Pumphrey? - Sympathetic labour pains.

l remember reading all about it once, under the hairdryer.

Happens all the time to husbands of a particularly sensitive disposition.

Ah.

- lt's started. - Right.

Good dog.

Right, Mr Hodgekin. l think you can say that's just about it.

lf you tell Mrs Pumphrey that there are no complications.

- Mother and puppies all doing well. - Right.

Right.

What next. How did Mrs Pumphrey react?

- Well, l didn't stay to find out. - Quite wise, l should think.

- Siegfried. - Oh, yes...

Since when has Tristan been the world's leading authority on the goat?

Why?

That was certainly the impression he gave Miss Grantley.

Well, could have something to do with that ministry job he's applied for, James.

Oh?

He's been boning up on the subject ever since he discovered

that a member of the selection board is one hell of an expert on goats.

l see.

From what l know of Miss Grantley, there could be repercussions.

James.

Stay, boys.

James, come and look at this.

Just what l suspected. Sulphanilamide.

Untouched by human hand.

Now then, this injection is perfectly safe to prescribe...

for an animal that has been...

on sulphanilamide.

On the other hand, for one that hasn't,

the effects can be quite spectacularly lethal.

- Hang on a minute. - Something the matter, Mr Biggins?

No, well... What l mean is that...

l don't rightly know if l've been giving it enough.

Come now, Mr Biggins. l was precise in my instructions about dosage.

No... l mean...

With tongue like that it's very awkward to get stuff down, isn't it?

l'm sure if she's put back immediately on full dosage,

all may be well.

Look at that, James.

- What did you give her? - Mixed vitamins.

l see.

- James. - Mm?

- Just pull over here for a second. - Oh, yes.

What do you think of it? James?

The house.

Four bedrooms. One, two... three reception rooms.

Nursery. Fine paddocks.

Wouldn't you say that it would make an absolutely first-rate family home?

lt's very nice.

Transfer yourself to somewhere else.

- How did it go, then, James? - What? Oh, fine.

- No complications? - No. Mother and litter all doing well.

l wonder if they still do hampers at Fortnum's.

Probably not. Something else that might have gone forever.

Even if they don't, Mrs Pumphrey may well offer you the pick of the litter

as the man whose good offices made it all possible.

Tristan. Parcel through the post. One came for you this morning.

Miss Grantley's writing, l fancy.

- Really? - Mm-hm.

l wonder what it can be.

Good Lord... lt's goat muck.

- ls this somebody's idea of a joke? - lt's no joke, my dear brother.

When Miss Grantley honours you with one of her parcels, it's deadly serious.

She operates a private league table of local vets.

lf anyone catches her fancy, he receives the ultimate accolade.

A regular supply of goat dung for analysis.

Good grief.

- Hello. - Mrs Pumphrey speaking.

Hello, Mrs Pumphrey. lt's James you want, is it?

lt isn't? Well, er... could l be the first to offer my congratulations?

- Congratulations are not in order. - They aren't?

Tricki is deeply, deeply hurt.

Your supervision has resulted in a gross betrayal.

Come.

Down.

Stay.

Come.

Well, what do you think of her?

Siegfried, that's terrific. How on earth have you managed it?

All it took was a bit of patience.

Any time l've had spare l've nipped over and put her through her paces.

She's essentially very bright, so it wasn't all that difficult.

l think that's absolutely marvellous.

So... come on. Let's be on our way.

- Hello, Mr Mason. - Oh, er... Hello.

ls your father in?

l thought tha'd have heard, Mr Farnon.

Heard?

He, erm... died.

Last Tuesday.

Funeral were yesterday.

Oh, l see.

No, l hadn't heard, actually.

l see.

Well, come in if you like.

l'm just sorting out his things for him.

Funny the things they hang on to.

No. No, thanks, we must be off.

- l am sorry. - We both are.

Aye.

Well, er... She looks well enough, anyroad.

- Yes. - Yes, she does, doesn't she?

l'm sorry to have intruded.

Our deepest sympathy.

- Thanks, Mr Farnon. - Bye, Mr Mason.

lt's a funny thing.

l hardly know the man and yet...

What'll happen to the dog?

Erm...

l'll take her back to the estate.

Could l have her?

Of course.

l do love you, Siegfried.

- Siegfried? - Uh-huh?

You know that job l was boarded for, the one at the ministry?

- ls he off? - Shh... Yes, thank goodness.

- There it is, darling. - What?

That's the house Siegfried pointed out to me the other day.

He can't be serious. We couldn't afford anything like this.

Darling, we know that and so does he... presumably.

- l wonder what his idea is. - l don't know.

Anyway, it doesn't matter. Things will work out one way or another.

Nothing matters to me, James, as long as we're all right.

Are we all right, James?

What do you think?

- Hello. - Hello, Helen.

- Champagne, Siegfried? - Party time, James. A celebration.

- Celebrating what? - Modesty forbids.

- You've got that job. - You've read my letters.

- Congratulations, Tris. - Well done. That's marvellous.

- Thank you. - Here. Grab a glass.

- Thank you. - Come on.

Now then, ladies and gentlemen, l have the very great honour to give you...

my little brother, whom l am proud to call...

brother, Tristan Farnon.

- Tristan Farnon. - Thank you.

And l also have something else to tell you all.

This afternoon, l finally persuaded Caroline to become my wife.

lt's about time. More champagne.

- Congratulations. - Thank you.

You'll be welcome to see us whenever you want,

and you already know where, James.

Paddocks, nursery...

Oh, l see.

Oh, yes, please. Thank you.

With just the three of you left here,

l foresee a cloistered and unaccustomed calm descending upon Skeldale.

On the days when Jimmy's at school, anyway.

l don't think so, Siegfried. You see, early in the New Year,

there won't be just the three of us. There'll be four.

- l don't believe it. - Well done.

- You clever girl. - One last drop, Siegfried.

l'll go.

Er... Thank you.

James, it seems to me that the Farnon clan

are leaving Skeldale in the nick of time.

One small Herriot l've learnt to live with,

but two l think would try even my...

lt's Harry from Lord Hulton's. One of his hunters has put his shoulder out.

Blast.

Right. l'm off.

You going to come with me, my darling?

l'd love to.

This the story of my life from now on?

'Fraid so.

And try not to finish all the champagne while we're away.

l can't tell you how long l've hung on to that lot.

Yes, Siegfried, we'll try.

Hold that, James.

Am l right in think you're on call tonight, Tristan?

For you, Siegfried...

- Thank you, James. - Pleasure, Tristan.

- Skeldale. - 'Tis Mulligan, sir.

Look where you're going.

Here's to you.

To us.