All language subtitles for All Creatures Great & Small - S07E06 - Out with the New_eng

-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!

God save the Queen!

(CORK POPS)

Now then, Mr Gibson...
The Queen!

I'll drink to that, Mr Farnon.

Mmm.

(BOTH LAUGHING)