All language subtitles for s05e02.Place of Honour_eng

You stay there, Dan.
That's a good boy.

Tip, it's me, you stupid dog!

- Morning, Peter. Hello, Mary.
- Sorry to get you out so early.

It's all right.
That bleeding sounded serious.

Get off, Tip.
Splendid place to set an ambush.

Anyone who comes to our back door
gets the same treatment.

- Is he always on guard this early?
- Barrel's his sleeping place, James.

- He sleeps out there, in this weather?
- Aye, all the time in an old barrel.

Mostly you'll find him outside
the door there.

Tip.

Right, James. The cow's over here.
She just calved.

Steady on, young 'un. You'll have to wait
for your breakfast this morning.

Yes. Vaginal haemorrhage.

- Hot water, soap and a towel, please.
- Right.

(phone ringing)

- Darrowby 385.
- Busby here. Is that the surgery?

- Yes, it is.
- Who's that speaking?

- Tristan Farnon.
- Now, listen here.

I want you to come out to my place
right away. Right away, do you hear?

- I hear you, Mr Busby.
- Well, do as I say, young man.

I've got a good cow off colour
and I want her seen to straight away.

- What's wrong with your cow?
- Summat wrong with her eye. It's sore.

Sore eye.
It doesn't sound too serious.

I'll pop in later
when I'm on my rounds. Bye.

But...

How's Helen, James?

It'll be at least a month
before she can get up.

Poor thing.
She must get so bored.

That's putting it mildly.

Now, James, I know you well enough
to see there's summat on your mind.

You've always had a soft spot for old Tip.
To do with him, is it?

- I'd no idea he was sleeping out at nights.
- It's his own choice.

Yeah, but this weather, Peter.
He's old, isn't he?

Oh, 15 or thereabouts.

- Couldn't he stay here with the other one?
- Robbie? I'd like nowt better myself.

He'd at least have a warm bed,
but he just won't have it.

He were the same in Dad's time.
Isn't that so, Mary?

Aye. Nowt anyone
could do with him on that score.

- Why don't you lock him in?
- He'd be miserable, James.

Reckons it's his rightful place, you see,
outside the master's door.

- He looks healthy enough.
- Aye, tough as old rope.

And he's got young Robbie
to keep him on his toes.

Ain't that so, old boy?

- Sorry it's so late, darling.
- Did the children get to school on time?

- With seconds to spare.
- Is the kitchen tidy?

- No, not yet.
- You know how these things pile up.

What about the children's clothes? Have
you washed them? You need to iron them.

- Helen!
- (music blasts)

Tristan!

Shut up!

- Is Mrs Bradshaw coming?
- Oh, God, I hope so.

Every woman in this district
works in the factory!

You've got to have someone
to give you a hand.

Don't I know it!
Ah, Ghost Rider himself.

- Morning. Twice.
- Thank you for taking the kids to school.

- School? Oh, school.
- Don't worry, I managed.

I'm sorry.
I'll make it up to you.

- You can start with a bit less volume.
- Sorry.

(phone rings)

Thanks, darling.

- Darrowby 385.
- (Busby) ls that you, Farnon?

- No, this is James Herriot, actually.
- Busby here.

Now, look. I've been waiting hours
for that Farnon.

- Siegfried Farnon?
- Not him, t'other one.

I asked him to come, he's not
showed his face. It's not good enough.

It certainly isn't good enough, Mr Busby.
I'm very sorry. Tristan!

It's not excuses I want, Herriot, it's
service! Heard of that word, have you?

Oh, yes.
I've heard of the word.

- Yes, James?
- Ah, here is Mr Farnon now.

Oh! (gasp ofpain) Tris!

- Oh, thanks, Helen. Hello?
- I've been waiting hours foryou!

What do you think you're doing?!
Get out here right away!

I'm fed up with
all this hanging about.

Yes, Mr Busby.

Mr Busby?

Mr Busby?

Mr Busby?

Mr Busby?

Mr Busby?

Busby!

- Oh, Mr Busby, there you are.
- So... you decided to come, did you?

Sorry about the mix-up.
Things are a bit hectic at Skeldale House.

- I heard the vet's wife's still lying in bed.
- Slipped a disc. It's very painful.

Well, some folks are lucky to get bed rest.
That's all I can say about it.

Yes, well, I'm here now.

Not soon enough
for this poor, suffering beast.

- But why should you worry about that?
- I've already apologised.

That's you young folk all over.
Always sorry for things you've done.

Never a thought for things
you might do better.

- That's hardly fair, Mr Busby.
- Fair?

There's nowt fair about this.

Is it fair my good cow's
maybe going blind?

What's fair about
keeping me standing here?

In that case, I'd better see to your cow.
It's this one, is it?

That's it, duck the issue.
Hide your face from the truth.

Well, there are some things
mean summat in this life.

Yes. There's always some
who'll turn their back on the truth.

- And others who'll face it fair and square.
- If you say so, Mr Busby.

I don't say so,
I know so, young man.

But maybe you have a different opinion.
Maybe you think you know it all!

All I know is that your cow
is perfectly all right, Mr Busby.

- All right?
- Just had a hayseed in her eye.

Hayseed?

There's slight soreness, but the drops
should heal it up in a couple of days.

What's this?

It's the hayseed, Mr Busby.
Good day.

Shove over!

James ought to know by now
you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

Especially a dog like that.

Ah, James. Come in, come in.
A noble effort.

Thanks, Siegfried.

Sorry it's so late, darling. The washing up
is getting a little bit out of hand.

Thank you.
Is Mrs Bradshaw coming?

Not yet, no. And the kitchen floor
is getting absolutely filthy.

James, James, there is a time
for drudgery and a time to relax.

James, I was telling Siegfried
you were worried about Trenholm's dog.

Tip? You do know that dog
sleeps outside all year round, do you?

Yes, there's no neglect intended.
In fact, they're extremely fond of the dog.

- Yes, I know. I know.
- They're very decent people.

I remember reading about Tip
in the newspapers years ago.

About how he found the Trenholms' ewes
after they'd been buried in heavy snow.

- It's absolutely true.
- A real-life shaggy dog story.

So why does such a smart animal
insist on sleeping out in the cold?

You miss the point, James.
It's the place of honour.

What dog of character
would wish to be anywhere else?

That reminds me, a pair of dogs
were seen running loose in the hills,

- not far from the Trenholms'.
- Strays?

Probably. You'd better warn Peter
in case he hasn't heard.

James, could you spare me a biscuit?

Thank you.

- Morning, George.
- Morning.

- Um, Hemingway.
- No, no, no. Scott Fitzgerald.

Catching up.
Six to your seven. Your go.

"Hope springs eternal
in the human breast."

"Hope springs eternal
in the human breast"?

- "Hope springs eternal"?
- Ah, Mrs Bradshaw.

- Pope - Essays on Man.
- Seven - eight. Your go.

- "Abandon hope..."
- Dante's lnferno.

- "Abandon hope all ye who enter here."
- Not literally, I trust.

Great Scott, Tristan. I know!
Gilbert and Sullivan, HMS Pinafore.

- Very funny.
- It's for you, James.

Urgent delivery, no less.

- For me?
- From Highland Fisheries, lnveraray.

- Really?
- That aroma, James.

- Definitely fishy.
- Three pairs of fine oak-smoked kippers.

- One pound of pre-sliced...
- Smoked Tobermory trout.

- Correct.
- Who sent it, James?

- It's from Balby Grange.
- Mrs Pumphrey.

- Says Tricki-Woo. Good old Uncle Herriot.
- It's for Helen. Help cheer her up.

Ah.

Throughout these years
of appalling food shortages,

a single thought has sustained me -
that one day I might taste again

the peerless excellence
of smoked Tobermory trout.

But, of course, one understands...
No, no. Your wife, James, your wife.

Helen won't mind. Come on.
Tell us if it's up to scratch.

Mmm!

Well?

- Lost for words, James.
- That makes a change.

If you had not cauterised the booze mat
that passes for your palate,

a palate hardly developed beyond

a taste for the carrion
you call bangers and mash,

you might possibly, just possibly,

appreciate the significance
of what we have here.

Some people rate my
bangers and mash very highly.

- If they survive.
- It was only a joke. Honestly.

My list of offences
seems to be growing by the day.

- Some things are beyond a joke.
- It's just smoked fish, for heaven's sake.

Here you are, Tris.
You try.

Come on.
There's a good boy.

He's right, James,
it's not of this world.

I tell you what, equal shares.

Half for the Farnons,
half for the Herriots.

- You can't mean it?
- If you don't want it...

- He's speaking entirely for himself.
- And obviously in haste.

Tristan and I very gratefully accept
your most generous offer.

Do we not, Tristan?

And you can pronounce judgment
on the kippers, Tristan.

The kippers? What about the trout?
That's not fair!

You are a very fortunate young man,
Tristan. Thanks to Mrs Pumphrey.

Trust Mrs Pumphrey to overdo things.

Overdo? James, don't you realise
how fortunate you are?

Yes. Yes, I suppose I am.

Suppose? Do I detect a note
of complacency in your attitude?

- Not at all. I'm very grateful to her.
- So you should be.

Indeed, so should we all be.

Now, James, your next visit
to Balby Grange is when?

- Tomorrow.
- No objection, I take it, if I trot along too?

- No, of course not.
- Excellent.

Right you are, then, Tristan.

- He can go back into his box.
- Let's be having you, Toffee.

- Yes, Tristan?
- Sorry.

That foolish smile of yours
can be very irritating.

Not so much the smile,
more the thought behind it.

- Meaning?
- Laying it on a bit thick, aren't you?

If, by that graceless comment,
you mean that I am properly attired

for a social visit to Mrs Pumphrey,
I plead guilty.

What are you up to, Siegfried?

I am simply cementing those ties which
should exist between client and practice.

An idea, of course, which totally escapes
those who are strangers to responsibility.

James!

Coming, Siegfried.

- Your share of the trout.
- Oh, James, thank you very, very much.

Tristan.

There is my smoked Tobermory trout.
Will you put it in the larder?

I'll collect it - all of it -
when I return.

Morning, Hodgekin.

- (James) Hello, Edna.
- Come in, both of you.

(James) Thank you.

- I brought Mr Farnon with me today.
- An all too rare visit, Edna.

- I will have your coats, if you please.
- Thank you.

And how is Mrs Herriot?

- No change, I'm afraid, Edna.
- Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.

- Thank you so much.
- I'll just fetch your slippers.

(piano playing in background)

Unless my ears deceive me,
that's Rachmaninoff I hear in there.

Nay, Mr Farnon,
that's Madame on the piano.

I see.

You seem to be pretty much
at home here, James.

Nothing but the best
for our Mr Herriot.

James.

Thanks, Siegfried.

Mr Farnon and Mr Herriot, Madame.

- Bravo, bravo.
- Thanks, Edna.

- Quite excellent, Mrs Pumphrey.
- Good heavens, Mr Farnon, I had no idea.

I know my playing
leaves much to be desired.

It leaves nothing that I could desire,
Mrs Pumphrey.

Nor, I'm sure,
could Sergei Rachmaninoff.

You admire his music?

Such genius is beyond
mere admiration, don't you think?

Indeed, yes. Of course,
it was that wonderful film

- that first drew it to my attention.
- BriefEncounter?

- One of my greatest favourites.
- Mine also.

I had no idea
we had so much in common.

And nor indeed has James
told me about your musical prowess.

Mea culpa.

Mr Herriot inclines to Mozart.

Magical, marvellous in his way, but Tricki
and I prefer something more modern.

- Well, not just Mozart.
- (Siegfried) No need to apologise, James.

All the great practitioners
of the sublime art had their unique merits.

(Mrs Pumphrey)
Oh, Mr Farnon, how very true.

Of course, I knew
you came from a musical family -

the Wagnerian names
you and your brother were given.

Tricki spotted it straight away.

(Siegfried) Dear Tricki -
as perceptive as ever.

Still entranced
with Rachmaninoff, I see.

(snoring)

Oh, Mrs Pumphrey, thank you very much.
That fish from Scotland was delicious.

Oh, yes indeed.
A Rachmaninoff of a trout, Mrs Pumphrey.

- Schubert.
- What, James?

Schubert, "Trout".

A supreme indulgence,
which your generosity

and James' good nature
allowed others of us to share.

That's splendid. In that case, I have no
compunction in calling for your advice.

Your servant, Madame.

As you know, Mr Herriot is here
to give Tricki his vitamin injection.

He loathes having
a big needle, you know.

But I read in a magazine that American
doctors and vets are now using music -

gramophone records -
to take their patients' minds off pain.

I'd say an interesting notion,
Mrs Pumphrey.

And one I imagine
with which James is fully in agreement.

Well, it's an idea.

The question is
what music to play him.

Although Uncle Herriot can do no wrong
as far as Tricki is concerned,

I'm not quite sure that Mozart
is entirely right for this occasion.

Tricki has mentioned
that all that diddle-diddle-dee

does rather set his nerves on edge.

I wonder if I might browse
among your gramophone records?

But of course.
You'll find them over there.

And while you do that,
Mr Herriot will see to Tricki

and Edna shall fetch us all a sherry.
How's that?

A capital idea, Mrs Pumphrey.
What do you say, James?

And it wasn't just the two heads.
This calf had five legs and three...

Mr Farnon, telephone.

I knew it was a mistake
getting that thing installed.

I'll tell you the rest later.

It wasn't difficult
to guess where you'd gone, Tristan.

You're supposed to be here on call.

- Mr Busby has rung for the third time.
- What the hell's the matternow?

It's a sick cow.
Apparently it's serious this time.

I suggest you get over there right away.

Mr Busby?

Mr Busby?

Mr Busby?

Mr Busby?

- Busby!
- Better late than never.

- Sorry, Mr Busby, I was delayed.
- Aye. Heard that afore and all.

This is an emergency.

Three times I had to ring.
There's you nowhere to be found.

Your brother and Mr Herriot
gone off to see some ruddy dog.

The two of 'em! And me
with a good cow needing seeing to.

- Is this the cow?
- That's right.

And a darn sight more important
than a parasite like a ruddy dog.

I'm sure you don't mean that. Dogs have
as much right to exist as any creature.

What happens if my cow dies
through your neglect?

It's a big loss, that's what. And you talk
to me about a ruddy lapdog?

Your cow won't die, Mr Busby.
She has a mild stasis of the rumen,

easily put right with a stomach drench.

Talk's cheap, young man.
Dogs don't touch pocket, tha knows.

- Drenching tackle, please.
- Like I...

Drenching tackle.

The trouble with thee is,
thee don't think the little man's important.

Not so, Mr Busby.

Think I can buy cows just like that? It's a
job making ends meet on a farm like this.

Would you like to hold her head, please?

Thank you so much.

I do understand your problems,
I assure you.

Then how come you reckon a pampered
lapdog more than you do my cows?

Ruddy parasites.

This is my living, tha knows.

Well, that's about it, Mr Busby.
If the problem recurs, do let us know.

Come along, Toffee.

(carapproaches)

(James) We're back, darling.

(Siegfried) Lord alive, we are late!
Caro will be awaiting lunch.

You didn't have to go on
accepting all that sherry, Siegfried.

Ah, Tristan, my Tobermory trout,
if you please.

Your trout?

Yes, I promised Caro we'd have it
for lunch and I'm frightfully late.

Well...

- You do have it? All of it, I trust?
- Oh, yes.

Well, can I please have it
as soon as possible?

Right.

The Farnon portion
of the Tobermory trout.

Thank you, Tristan.

(dogs bark)

(sheep baaing)

(gunshots)

Tip. Tip.

Tip!

Come on! Come!
Come on, come on.

Come on, good boy.
Come on, come on.

Good boy, Tip.
Come on, come on. Good boy.

(James) We'll get there
as soon as we can. Bye.

- How are the kippers?
- Scrumptious.

- Emergency. Got to get to the Trenholms'.
- Now?

- Siegfried can take surgery.
- What about the kippers?

They'll taste better
when you've had fresh air.

- James, please let me have my kippers.
- You can have them. But later.

Hurry up, you two. We'll drop you
at school on the way. Come on, Dan.

- How are they?
- Shaken up. No lasting damage.

- James?
- Marsh illness.

- Calcium?
- Yes, please, Tris.

- This could have been much worse, Peter.
- Aye. I owe it all to old Tip here.

(James) Come on. Come on.

Eeh! That were fast work.

What she'll need now
is absolute peace and quiet.

- Right.
- Kippers?

(James) Kippers.

Thank you, Tris.

(phone rings)

(Siegfried) It's all right!

I'll take it.
Don't disturb your breakfast.

- Thanks, Siegfried.
- Darrowby 385.

Yes, speaking.
Oh, it's Mrs Pumphrey.

- It's your benefactress, James.
- Better get it over with.

- Just tell her to call back.
- I know, it's for me.

Ah, no, it's for me, James, actually.

- What's that all about?
- No idea.

- He must've hit it off with Mrs Pumphrey.
- He did, rather.

Watch out.
You know what he's like.

I don't think he's ready
to play Uncle Farnon.

I think he'd do anything
for more Tobermory trout.

My goodness,
those do smell good.

You should taste them, Siegfried.
So what was that about?

Mrs Pumphrey? She just wanted advice.
Wonderful texture and flavour, I expect.

- Expert poaching helps.
- Yes, I'm sure it does. Can I taste?

Of course. Tricki's birthday next week.
The date is engraved on my brain.

Yes, possibly.
I'll know more when I see her later.

Charm on full throttle, I see.

Mrs Pumphrey and I do have a certain
amount in common. She said so herself.

- Something like that.
- What a team we are, eh?

You look after Tricki's body,
I administer to the inner dog.

Very good. Terribly good.

It's wicked of me to disturb
your well-earned breakfast.

There is another pair in the larder
to which you are more than welcome.

- You're a prince among men.
- James, those are for Helen.

She doesn't like kippers.
She's having trout.

- Helen's having trout?
- Kippers for me, trout for Helen.

(front door opens)

- Oh, Siegfried, client.
- What?

- Sounds like a client.
- Oh. A client.

- Good morning.
- Does Helen know about the trout?

- No. It's a surprise.
- When are you giving it to her?

- Lunchtime.
- Wouldn't rather give her sausages?

- Sausages?
- Mr Crammer's best.

No, no. She's having the trout.

No, she's having the sausages, James.

What?

Mrs Shannon's cat
ate the Farnons' share.

And with Siegfried breathing down
my neck, well, I had to give him yours.

- I don't believe it.
- Would you tell Siegfried

a cat had eaten
his precious Tobermory trout?

Tristan, you...

- Your very good health, Mr Farnon.
- And yours indeed, Mrs Pumphrey.

Thank you for responding to my SOS
so promptly.

- Not at all. It's a pleasure.
- You haven't said anything to Mr Herriot?

- No, not a syllable, just as you said.
- Excellent.

Now, you may not be aware that a certain
very important date is imminent.

The admirable Tricki's birthday?

You know!
How very clever of you.

Well, you know, Mrs Pumphrey,
these little things, in the practice,

- we find they make all the difference.
- Indeed, yes.

Something I value in my arrangements
with Messrs Farnon and Herriot.

Good.

Now, every year, Tricki invites
a guest of honour to his birthday.

And guess who it is to be this year.

Uncle Herriot.

Oh, yes.

And since I intend to surprise
both Tricki and his uncle,

neither of them
must know what is afoot.

You're with me, Mr Farnon?

Entirely, Mrs Pumphrey.

Since Tricki and his uncle
are both music lovers,

I had intended to have
a small musical celebration,

a Mozart quartet
in deference to Mr Herriot.

- An excellent choice.
- But the quartet broke down yesterday.

They cried off.
One of their number is ill.

And I've no idea
how to find a replacement.

And with so very little time.
And then I thought of you.

Me? But...

I don't play, Mrs Pumphrey.

No, no, no.
Can you help me to find a replacement?

Oh, I see what you mean.

Do you know, as a matter of fact,
I might be able to suggest someone,

because only just the other day,
a friend of a friend of mine

was talking most enthusiastically
about a very talented ensemble, he said,

who he'd heard recently
playing at Broughton.

Oh, but that's marvellous. Do you know
how they could be contacted?

- Very first thing I do, I'll find out.
- Oh, thank you.

I knew I could rely on you.

It's entirely a pleasure.

Tip. Tip?

Tip.

Come on, boy.

Tip, lad.

- James, this is the absolute end!
- What?

I've missed out on my share
of the Pumphrey parcel,

I've been forced to witness Siegfried
worming his way into her affections,

and now I find I have to attend a classical
concert on the wretched dog's birthday.

Well, it's the Bourbon Ensemble.

"Black tie..."
Black tie? Oh, hell!

Exactly. Siegfried will be unbearable
if we don't go.

(phone rings)

- I'll go.
- Thanks, Tris.

Darrowby 385.

- That was Peter Trenholm. His dog.
- Tip?

Had a seizure,
can't get to his feet.

- Right. Thanks.
- (phone rings)

Tris? I'll get it.

- Darrowby 385.
- Busby here.

- Hello. James Herriot speaking.
- Good. You know about dogs.

Listen, I've got a little dog that's poorly
and I want you to get out here right away.

I can't do that at the moment,
I have a very urgent case.

You can't treat me like that!

My dog's more important
than your urgent case!

- The client is waiting, you see.
- You promise service, Herriot.

And that's what I want - service!

Bring your dog round to the surgery,
where Mr Farnon will attend to it.

- Young Farnon, tha means?
- Correct, Mr Busby. Goodbye.

Tris, Busby's popping round to see you.

- Oh, that's all I need.
- He's in a bit of a state.

(phone rings)

- James!
- (door closes)

- He's had a stroke.
- Reckoned it was summat like that.

- Is there owt you can do?
- Well, he's comfortable. He's not in pain.

- I have drugs that can keep him like that.
- There's more, isn't there?

He seems to have lost
all feeling down one side.

Paralysed?

Partially, yes.

Is there no way back for him?

I'm afraid not, no.
It's irreversible.

Would it have happened
if we'd kept him in the house?

He's old, Peter.

It's a miracle he's as fit as he is.

It's got nothing to do with
where he sleeps.

We'd not want him to go on like this,
would we, Peter?

No.

You'll do what has to be done, then?

Of course.

That's the old lad.

That's the old lad.

Aye. Always a bit special.

Dad knew it when you were a pup.

You've gone on proving it ever since,
haven't you, old lad?

Just hold his leg, Peter, would you?

- Sorry.
- Bothered to come, have you?

- I found Mr Busby waiting.
- I had to treat an injured bullock.

Typical! Dance attendance on a ruddy
bullock while my poor dog's maybe dying.

- It's only a touch of rheumatism.
- He didn't know that.

The bullock could have bled to death.
A big loss for the owner, you'll agree.

What kind of talk is that, young man?

You think you can put a price on the love
and companionship of a pet like mine?

- What?
- You heard.

Love and companionship for a pet,
from you?

- You don't think it matters?
- That's a ridiculous thing to say.

- You calling me a liar?
- I've really put myself out on your behalf,

and received little thanks in return.

- You get my hard-earned brass for a start.
- Typical. But let it pass.

I'll also put aside
the way you behave to me.

But what I refuse,
will not put aside,

- is your convenient memory.
- Tristan.

Sorry, it's true. Mr Busby has contradicted
himself and I want him to know it.

- What the ruddy heck is he on about?
- I'll tell you what I'm on about, Mr Busby.

You said dogs, lapdogs you called them,
were of no importance.

Farm animals come first
because they're a man's livelihood.

- Your words, Mr Busby, not mine.
- Well.

I'm surprised you haven't done
a better job with this young fella.

Taught him the real things of this life.

Mr Warner's bullock
represents hard cash.

I've never heard such unchristian rubbish
in all my days.

You'll learn that material things
aren't everything.

All riches of this life are nowt but dust

when folk are lacking
the milk of Christian kindness.

Man cannot live by bread alone,
tha knows.

Stay there, Dan.

Robbie?
Come on, come on.

- Morning.
- Hello, Peter.

Sorry to get you out again. A few
of my ewes are down with summat.

- The ones that were attacked?
- Aye. To do with that?

Reaction to the shock?
Where are they?

Top barn.

So, he's sleeping out nights now, is he?

Aye. There's no stopping him.
Believe me, I tried, but nowt will shift him.

Place of honour?

Sorry, darling.
It hardly seems fair.

Nonsense. Your boiled eggs are better
than all Mrs Pumphrey's pate de foie

- and game pies put together.
- Thanks.

- Oh, damn!
- Come here.

Helen, I won't go.

- Good. You can keep me company.
- Oh, if only.

Gosh, Mrs Pumphrey
would never forgive you.

I wish you could come.

- Hold still.
- Sorry, sorry.

That's it.

There.

- How do you do it?
- Practice on 12-fingered husbands.

- Ready, James?
- Just about.

Allow me.

Come on,
it can't be as bad as all that.

Can't it? It's the direst...
direst event on my social calendar.

- Thanks, Tris.
- Never mind. You look very handsome.

Thank you, Helen.
Not as handsome as James,

but perhaps a touch
more dangerous to know.

Three hours of chamber music
will soothe the beast.

- Bye, darling.
- Bye-bye.

Jame...

Colonel and Mrs Fullerton.

Do you think your musicians
will get here in time?

I'm sure they won't let you down.
I used every skill at my command.

Oh, I know. It's so reassuring
having you to arrange everything.

It's just this dreadful weather.

Hey, ma'am, them musician fellows
have just arrived.

There you are, Mrs Pumphrey,
all safe and sound.

Thank heavens. Now, you help them
to set up their instruments.

When all is ready,
we'll carry out the plan. Yes?

- Right, ma'am.
- You're sure you know what to do?

Aye, ma'am, leave it to me.

Oh, come on, James, half an hour in
the Drover's could make new men of us.

Think of all that future Tobermory trout.

Right.

Mr James Herriot,
Mr Tristan Farnon.

No, you don't!

- Hello, Mrs Pumphrey.
- Sorry we're late.

Well, you're here now.
Thank you. Thank the both of you.

No detours en route, I trust?

Indeed, I wanted everyone here
and settled down for your big moment.

- My what?
- As soon as all the glasses are full,

- you make your speech.
- Make my what?

Tricki's chosen you
as guest of honour, James.

You have to make
the loyal birthday address.

Can't think of anyone better.

Ladies and gentlemen,
your attention, please.

Mr James Herriot.

(applause)

- Thank you...
- My lords, ladies and gentlemen,

pray silence for Mr James Herriot,
RS... VT.

- MRCVS, actually.
- MRCVS. Sorry.

Good evening,
ladies and gentlemen.

It is always a great pleasure...

and very gratifying, to get Trick...
to see Tricki through another year.

- (Siegfried) Hear, hear.
- What?

It is also a pleasure,
and indeed an honour,

to be the guest of... honour.

Although I know that you are all
very special and dear to dear Tricki.

Anyway, for a very special dog,
on his very special night,

I ask you all to please
raise your glasses.

And the toast is...

Happy birthday,

Tricki-Woo.

(all) Happy birthday, Tricki-Woo.

Dazzling, James.
Absolutely brilliant.

And now, on with the music.

This way. Follow me.

(Music trombone plays
"Happy Birthday To You")

(Musicjazz version
of "Happy Birthday To You")

Mr Farnon!

I don't understand it,
it's extraordinary.

- I'll have a word with them.
- Obviously some mistake.

Well, as I said,
it was only a friend of a friend.

Tristan! You go and talk to them!

Tell them, for goodness sake,
to play some Mozart or Tchaikovsky...

(Tristan) It's got nothing to do with me!

Tricki!

Tricki, darling.
I never knew you liked jazz. Oh, darling.

Mrs Pumphrey, will you do me
the very great honour?

With the greatest of pleasure,
Mr Farnon.