Original subtitles

Hello, Millstone Manor.

Who do you want?

Mr. Enfrith.

Well, hang on, I'll just wake him.

Mr. Enfrith?

Mr. Enfrith?

Oh, Mavis. It's your mother.

Well, to this time of the morning.

She's probably been to all night bingo.

Hello, Mother.

Yes, yes, that was a girl's voice you heard.

Yes, she's the cook.

Yes, I help her in the kitchen.

No, I'm not in the kitchen now. I'm in bed.

Shelling peas.

I don't want her to know too much.

No, she's just brought something up for me.

My breakfast.

Mother, I'm sitting up in bed with a boiled egg and half a dozen soldiers.

Hello? Hello, are you there?

The toast... Soldiers, Mother.

Yes, to dipping me egg.

Now, I'd better have it now, otherwise it'll get cold. Bye -bye.

Haven't you told her that we're bunking up together?

It's very old -fashioned, my mother. She thinks I ought to save myself.

I think it's about time you cashed yourself in.

I've waited so long, I'd probably bounce.

No. Do you want to take the top off, or shall I do it?

I beg your pardon?

Your egg!

weren't jumpy this morning.

I've had a very disturbed nightmare.

I dreamt I was married to Elizabeth Taylor.

Me truck had gone out of control down the Avenue of Stars.

I got Joan Crawford on the bonnet and then the phone rang.

Well, hurry up and finish your egg.

We've got to help the dad plant the taters. He's done his backing.

What's that back?

Oh, that'll be Captain Peacock and Miss Lovelock.

Fixing the room up for Miss Brom. Hurry up.

picture Mr.

Grace left me.

They might be useful to cover up blank walls.

I'm not sure that the plaster will hold them.

Look!

This is Wilfred, the fourth Earl of Millstone.

Apparently there was a terrible scandal.

His wife's younger sister, Leonora, fell madly in love with him.

Look. Terribly handsome.

They had an assignation in this very attic.

His wife followed them and shot them both dead.

I think there's a picture of her as well. I'll go and get it.

Come in.

Eleanor. Wilfred.

Oh. Crush me in your strong arm.

One whiff of your heady perfume and reason flies, leaving me at the mercy of

unbridled passion.

Is it mad?

Mad? I'm caught like a leaf in the water, Vala.

As you ever want me.

Consumation will wait no longer.

Enough of wooing. Now.

For doing!

I couldn't let you in. I cannot look at you.

It is.

This is the wife.

Oh, no wonder he went for the youngest.

I think it would look rather good over here.

Well, we'll try anyway.

Now then, about there.

But it's only covered with paper.

Pay attention, everybody.

We don't want this potato -planting business to take too long, so I devised

system which is rather more modern than the old -fashioned way of doing things.

It's perfectly simple. I shall drive the tractor and make two trenches.

Mrs. Slocum will tow the potato trailer, Miss Brahms will sit on the potato

trailer and pass the potatoes to Mr. Humphreys, who will put them in the

trenches. Now, Mr. Humphreys, put them in... 14 inches apart. Is that clear? Do

I put them in with the eyes down or the eyes up?

It really matters.

If they spend a week or two trying to discover which way is up, we're going to

get a late crop.

Oh, very well.

Eyes up. Right, to your posts.

It's all very well being self -sufficient, but I never thought I'd see

the back of a trailer slinging spuds. It's very third world, isn't it? A

trailer. Look at it. It hasn't even got a seat.

Well, if you like, Miss Brahms, you can sit on the tractor and I'll sit on the

potatoes. No, it's all right. We don't want to mash before they get into the

bread.

If you're going to get up my nose, perhaps it's as well that Captain

fixing up the spare attic for you.

Is everybody ready?

Yes.

Start tractors.

in the trenches and those that are far more than 14 inches apart you'll have to

do better than that it's perfectly simple merely a matter of coordination

eyes up potato entrench eyes up potato entrench move 14 inches eyes up potato

entrench eyes up potato entrench move

It's in here.

Oh, poor pussy.

I wonder how it got there.

Perhaps it was chasing a mouse.

What part was that?

Perhaps it didn't catch a mouse.

How did you find it?

We were decorating the attic for you, Miss Browns. I'm not sleeping in a room

with a dead cat.

Look, they've covered it, covered the hole with newspaper.

It's got a date on it.

1790.

Now, this would indicate that the poor animal has been there, well, over 200

years. Oh, I've never seen one of those before.

A 200 -year -old pussy.

Well, what are we going to do with it?

Well, I think we ought to give it a decent burial somewhere near the chapel

a nice stone over it.

But we don't know its name.

Well, it could be a tourist attraction.

The Tomb of the Unknown Pussy.

No, I don't think it should be buried. I mean, it could be of interest to the

local museum.

Oh, yes, I read about that in the paper. That's where they've got that

fossilised bog man.

Where did they find him?

The local bog.

Had he been there long?

About 5 ,000 years.

I bet there was a queue outside.

we are trying to make, Mr. Humphreys, is that objects like this, in a decent

state of preservation, are of interest to antiquarians and should not be

I'll make some inquiries.

Oh, yes, there's bound to be an association for the preservation of

pussies.

Let's go and look in the yellow pages.

We'll let our vendors do the walking.

It's very good of you to drive us to the museum, Miss Lovelock. Oh, that's all

right. I'm the only one who knows where it is.

You handle it very well.

Well, I'd often drive Mr. Grace.

He loved the motion, you know, bouncing up and down while I was cracking the

wind. You know, despite his age, he was his happiest when we went flat out.

I'd like to try that sometime.

Oh, it's so romantic, travelling along like this.

One almost expects a handsome highwayman to leap out of a cop's stride.

Crystal and death turned into liver.

That should get the adrenaline going. Yeah, all you get nowadays is some yobbo

on a lampretta who snatches your handbag.

Is that castle right?

It's in the box.

Miss Lovelock, would you try to avoid the potholes?

These seats are rather firmly involved.

Now, you all go and find the curator, and I'll park the horse.

Take my hand, Mrs. Slocum. Oh, I'm still vibrating after that cobbled street.

Well, it might be romantic, Mrs. Slocum, but it's no good for the rheumatics, is

it? Take them on the side, monkey.

Are you sure you're all right, Captain Peacock? I've parked Centurion tanks,

Miss Lovelock. I think I can manage a small pony and trap.

Be up, Nellie.

Come on.

Don't do anything we'd be ashamed of.

There must be someone.

We're shot.

I said we were shot.

I wish to see the curator of this museum. I have a pussy of great

Yes, most interesting.

We have a few similar mummified felines in our collection.

And it's in a remarkable state of preservation.

Was there nobody with it?

None. I ask purely, you see, because many years ago, it was the practice to

animals with their martyrs. Do you know, we once discovered a Saxon king buried

with his horse.

Well, this was in the attic.

They'd never have got one up the stairs.

Yes, well, we would be delighted to accept it as an exhibit. Now, while

here, we have one or two other interesting items.

This here is the tooth of a mastodon.

This is a very large animal which roamed these parts many, many years ago, long

before the Ice Age. Very similar to an elephant, only much, much larger.

Is that all you've got?

Well, the tail was found 150 feet away.

What happened to the middle?

We couldn't get it there without demolishing the express dairy.

Now, follow me.

This, this is very interesting.

This is Neff, but it isn't.

This is particularly interesting here, but we are not sure whether this is part

of the wing of a pterodactyl or a rather old umbrella.

We are waiting with bated breath for the carbon dating.

And this is the famous bog man.

Would you say he was Neanderthal?

It's very hard to date here, you see.

I shouldn't think anyone would want to.

The only tool we have are the flint implements they used at the time.

We think he was a potter. Do you see? He still has his tool in his hand.

It's very well preserved.

Funny thing happened.

I went up to milk Daisy.

She gave a couple of squirts.

Then she...

Rattling before Dad?

What are you cooking?

Lemon meringue pie.

Oh, I'll have a bit of that when it is ready. I'll just go and wash me hands.

Oh, it's nice and warm in here. It was quite chilly on that track.

It's ridiculous.

Giving me a ticket for parking a horse.

What do you expect if you leave it on a double yellow line?

Oh, there's not many of those around. Where did you park?

Near the museum.

And Peacock found a dried -up moggy in the attic, so we give it to him.

You found a dried -up cat in the attic?

Yes, in a hole in the wall.

And you took it away?

Yes. Oh, you shouldn't have done that!

You definitely shouldn't have done that at all!

No wonder Daisy dried up.

Well, that cat was put there for a reason.

It's to bring good luck upon the house.

It cancels out the bad and brings in the good. Oh, superstitious nonsense.

you may say that, but look what happened at the old millhouse when that young

couple moved in. Well, what happened?

We never found out.

Doesn't seem very conclusive.

There's an old saying round these parts.

Take a cat from the wall, bad luck shall befall.

You find it in a niche, leave it where it is.

no rise.

Mr. Rumble, are you all right?

I must sit down.

I went to the bathroom, I pulled the chain, and the whole system fell on my

head.

I was lucky not to be killed.

When you're pulling the chain, watch out for the brain.

Don't, don't mock, Mr. Enfrid. Me and Dad take this very serious.

Well, we were very nearly hit by that holiday coach coming back.

Well, I think we can put that down to Captain Peacock's driving.

Mind you, there was also that poor man who collapsed in the museum.

Well, the ferrule of your umbrella up his nose might have had some bearing.

It's started.

I'll not set foot in this house till that tat is back in the wall.

You come and go.

I'm thinking, Dad.

Well, let me know when you've thumped.

I, for one, shall stick it out.

What about you, Mr. Rumbolt?

Oh, I shall certainly stick it out. What about you, Mr. Rumbolt? Are you going

to stick it out?

I shall do my very best.

Mind you, I'm not promising anything.

Well, I'm staying, and I am unanimous in that.

Well, I'm starving.

Is there anything to eat? Oh, we've got a nice lemon meringue pie in the oven.

Fantastic.

favorite. Right, you get it out, Mr. Ophrys. There's ovencloth on the side.

I'll get the plate.

Whatever it was, I hope it's not coming in here.

Let's all keep quiet. It might go away.

You're all being hysterical.

It's Jessica.

No, what was that scream?

It was like an old turd filling a bucket with a pump in his pyjamas.

You see, everything has a perfectly normal explanation.

I wouldn't have thought it was normal having a pump in your pyjamas.

over the table tonight suddenly went terribly cold and for no apparent reason

there was a gust of wind and the windows blew open. Do you know, it's funny you

should say that. I wasn't going to say anything because I thought you'd laugh

but just before I came downstairs the lights in my bedroom flickered off and

and then me drawers flew open and I promised you they were not

touched by human hands.

Was there any wind?

Are they male or female?

Well, they don't know what they are, but they get up to all sorts of tricks, and

they usually do it at night.

I've met one or two of those.

You're all letting your imagination run away with you. There's probably a

perfectly logical explanation.

I mean, the floors are bound to be uneven in a house of this age, and Mrs.

Slocum's drawers probably dropped open due to the vibration caused by a passing

lorry. Captain...

I can assure you that it would take more than a passing lorry to make my drawers

fall to the ground.

You still haven't explained what come out the oven, either. Well, I suppose

there's just a chance I could have used bicarbonate of soda instead of sugar.

There you are, you see. A perfectly reasonable explanation.

Mystery solved.

Who left a dead pig on the stairs?

Perhaps Mr. Moulton ordered one from the butchers and was bringing it into the

kitchen to show us when he was distracted.

Probably by the thud of Mrs. Slocum's drawers.

Well,

I am going to bed.

And to demonstrate the little credence that I give to the paranormal, I shall

sleep in the attic, in the room vacated by the dead cat.

And you, Miss Lovelock, may have my room.

Well, I think that was very gallant of him. Is there a spare hot water bottle?

Now, Miss Lovelock, if you're at all worried about anything, do remember that

Miss Brahms and I share the room next door.

Yes, and she has tittles under the bed.

And at the slightest hint of anything amiss, she runs straight up the

Just for the record, there is no pig on the stairs. You must have imagined it.

Well, I never.

That would seem to cast some doubt upon my sanity. And yet, mentally, everything

seems to be working perfectly normally.

Twelve eights are nine to six.

Reykjavik is the capital of Iceland.

Hadrian's Wall was built by Hadrian. Yes, it's all there.

Who left six pounds of pork sausages on the passage?

Oh, that's my fault. I left them there while I was folding my umbrella.

Oh, sir, don't go back to that attic, I beg you.

Well, you'll be lying there all by yourself, facing forces unknown.

Come and bunk up with me and Mr. Enfrid.

That's very kind of you, Mavis, but I'd rather face the unknown.

Oh, now I needn't change me pyjamas.

Now then, shall I take a sleeping pill so that I don't know what's happening,

shall I take a tranquilizer so I don't care?

Take both.

You know what I think?

I think we ought to go and ask for our cat back and put it back in that hole.

I quite agree, Miss Brahms.

You know, I can't believe that a passing lorry could move a heavy thing like

this.

I'll tell you what.

Why don't you pretend you're a heavy lorry and jump up and down and see if

fall out again?

She's pretending to be a happy lorry.

Juggernaut, more like.

Ooh,

that girl gets right up my nose.

Between you and me, Miss Brahms, you know what I think she is?

What?

What?

A tart.

Miss Brahms, bung up that keyhole.

Mr. Humphreys, I can hear an horrible ghostly knocking sound.

Mr. Humphreys, I can hear an horrible ghostly knocking sound.

Well, stick your fingers in your ears, right?

Captain Peacock!

Captain Peacock!

Begone, evil thing!

Stop it, Rumble!

Oh, no.

What do you want?

I've just heard a nun singing in the bathroom.

Well, I suppose they had to go like everybody else.

Can I come in with you?

No, I'll come in with you.

Mr. Empress, have you noticed how the temperature's dropped?

I'm trying to ignore it.

Well, I think there's something we can't see trying to tell us something we

don't know.

Very likely.

If we're not careful, we're going to wake up dead.

That'll give us something to talk about.

Mr. Humphreys, do you feel a rising up?

Yes, I do, and if that isn't paranormal, I don't know what is.

Well,

something's doing it, and it's getting worse.

Perhaps we ought to see if everything's all right with Mr. Humphreys.

Anything paranormal?

No, certainly unusual.

I've heard of that, Miss Clark.

What if we could see the person who attended to us yesterday?

I believe he's a curator.

He's in the museum.

They've just gone to fetch him. Thank you. He's in the museum.

May we ask you a small favor?

I have no time to do any more favors. My wife has just left me.

The pterodactyl's wing turned out to be an old umbrella after all.

Someone has stolen the bogman's tool and substituted it with a bottle of Tizer.

And now...

Can we have our cat back?

Oh, take anything you like, madam. Take anything you like. It's been nothing but

a catalogue of disasters.

He must be over here in the petrified

pussy section.

The question is, which one is ours?

Well, there's only one way to find out.

Mommy's taking you home.