Original subtitles

No better, I see. - No.

A real stinker of a cold, this one.

I'd take it easy, Siegfried. - Yes, bad news for you, I'm afraid.

You'll have to carry the whole burden.

No problem, providing the visiting list is reasonable.

There it is. - Oh, yes. Thanks.

Two herds to inoculate, three castrations,

seven post-operative examinations...

I'll never cope with this lot! - They're just in-and-out jobs.

Piece of cake, you'll see. - And surgery?

Don't worry about that. You'll fit it in somehow.

Morning! - Morning.

How's the cold, Siegfried?

If one could rely on people to do their share, it might be better.

I might not even have a cold. - It's not my fault.

If I could sit in a room without it being fouled with tobacco!

We all smoke in this house. - I don't smoke anymore. It's filthy.

Oh, I see, the fanatical zeal of the ex-smoker.

Go on, poison your body, stunt your growth.

Kill yourself for all I care.

I'll go.

No, let him! You've got your visits to prepare.

Hello, Tristan.

Is James Herriot in?

Yes, I'll fetch him, Helen. - Thank you.

Oh, it's all right, yes.

Psst, James. - What?

What?! Who is that?

It's her - Helen Alderson.

Helen? - Mm. She wants to see you.

Well, what are you waiting for?

It's embarrassing, isn't it? After the other night.

Last time I was pie-eyed. - Oh, go on, get in there.

Wait!

Just back from the laundry. - Right.

You're marvellous - the immaculate young surgeon!

Perfect! Now, wait, I'll show her in.

Mr Herriot will see you now. - Thank you, Tristan. Come on.

Thank you, Tristan.

Sure you don't any need help? - If I do I'll call.

Excuse me.

He jumped over a wall and I think he's hurt himself rather badly.

Oh. Right, let's have him up on the table.

Come on, Dan!

Up we go. That's a good dog.

I hope it's nothing serious.

He's as much a pet as a working dog.

Good dog.

Hmm.

I'm afraid he has a dislocated hip.

It's nasty. Still, I should be able to put it back.

And if you can't? - He'd be lame for months.

You've brought him in promptly so he has a very good chance.

I'll get Tristan - it's a bit of two-man job.

Couldn't I help?

I'm not sure you'd like playing tug-of-war with Dan.

I'm quite strong and not squeamish. - All right.

Slip on a coat and we'll get to it.

I'm going to use Nembutal, the new American drug.

It's all right...

Knock him out in seconds. Sit.

Did you enjoy the dance last Saturday?

I was surprised to see you there.

Ah, you do remember? - Of course I remember!

Not a pleasant memory, the state I was in.

You seemed to be having a nice time.

How's Connie? - Connie? Oh, I don't know.

Oh, that was the first and last time we met.

You're having me on, aren't you?

Just a bit. - Come on, we've got work to do.

Whatever you say, James.

What the deuce are you up to? - Shh!

What's going on in there?

It's James and Helen.

You make your job look so easy.

Have you no scruples, man?

I imagined it would be more difficult.

Come away, Tristan!

Thank you, James. That was a wonderful piece of work.

I had a good assistant.

Helen? - Yes?

Remember over dinner you said you were interested in Scotland.

Yes. - I was passing the Plaza yesterday.

They have a film from the Hebrides. - Oh, really?

I was wondering...

I thought perhaps you might like to see it with me?

That would be lovely. When?

Well, I thought maybe Friday evening?

Fine, I'll see you then.

Good!

I'll get Dan into the car. - I'll open the door.

Come on, Dan.

Good morning! Shan't keep you long.

Mr Farnon, will you both be back to lunch?

No, we'll give it a miss today. - Just as you like.

Who's first on the list?

The Dalbys, I think. Yes. Do you know them?

No, but heard you mention them.

You'll like them. Grand family. My God, the struggles they've had.

Convicts sentenced to hard labour don't have it worse.

It amazes me how these hill farmers stick it out.

Pride, James. Sheer, stubborn pride that refuses to quit.

We think we know these people,

we think we can understand their problems but we can't.

We only see what they want us to see.

The cheerful smiles, the cups of tea,

the food they offer us which means they go without.

They're a breed apart, we can't begin to understand

the frightening day-to-day reality of their lives.

I tell you, James, it'd break softies like us in no time.

You like the Dalbys, don't you? - They have an exceptional quality.

The unbreakable human spirit.

Anyway! Seems their efforts have met with some reward,

Billy Dalby's managed to get himself some decent cows at last.

We'll go and have a look at them. - Right.

Come on, dogs, or you'll stay. Come on!

Hello Charlie. - Hello Mr Farnon.

This is them, then, is it? - Aye.

Uh-huh.

Come on. - Steady, steady. Steady.

Is the family about? - Aye, in t'house.

Steady, girls. Steady, steady.

Come on, William, love, eat up now...

Mr Farnon! - Hello, Billy!

Mrs Dalby. I say, William, you've grown some!

Soon put your father out to grass.

You'll take some tea and pie wi' us?

Not today, Mrs Dalby, we haven't got much time.

You don't know my assistant, Mr Herriot.

Pleased to meet you. - How do you do?

Mr Herriot. - Mr Dalby.

Those cows are a fine lot. - Aye.

And they're all ours. - Off you go, lad.

Give Charlie a hand. - Yes, Dad.

Ta-ra, Mr Farnon. - Bye. I'll see you in a moment.

Doesn't know if he's coming or going.

That herd's like getting all his Christmas presents rolled into one.

Isn't that so, Billy? - We all feel a bit the same, lass.

Anyway, it's kind of you to drop by.

We'll look at the cows then Mr Herriot can give them the test.

I'll come with you. - No need to do that.

I'd prefer it.

I mean, it's the first chance I've had to show them off.

What a good idea. On we go!

I'll take these out. - Mr Herriot?

Next time you'll share tea with us, I hope?

I'll look forward to it. - Good.

Have you read about Raines Abbey? - No, what about it?

Several monks were massacred there in the 14th century.

So? Got a pen?

Mm. - Thank you.

Well, it means that there's an historical basis for the ghost.

Ghost? "IOU..." - Yes, the cowled monk.

The ghost of Raines Abbey.

Rot and superstition. Just overheated imaginations.

Ah, remember what Shakespeare said?

There are more things in heaven and earth... Horatio,

than anyone might... er... hm.

Don't talk rubbish. I'm off - Oh?

Yes, I've got a date with Helen. I'm taking her to the Plaza.

Hm.

Have I said something wrong? - No.

It's just... Well, the Plaza, it's hardly very enterprising.

Ah! I tried enterprise when I took her to that dinner dance.

And it was a shambles. So tonight I play safe.

Nowhere's safer than Darrowby Plaza.

Good. A nice quiet evening, no disasters. Just the job. Bye.

'Four men sat round a table and there was peace in Europe.

'Four strong men return home.'

'..the land of the German people.'

Thank you.

Courting seats, last three rows.

Thank you.

'..Monsieur Daladier and the answer of France.'

Excuse me.

'Ey up, veterinary!

Hello, Mr Newhouse.

Ooh... Are you...

are you having a night out, then, are you?

Hey... no hanky-panky, mark you, eh?

She's dead. - Dead?

Aye, I don't think it were nowt to do with her stomach, neither.

Sorry to hear that... - I knew you were on t'wrong track.

I been round beasts nigh on 40 years,

it never goes like that when it's the stomach.

You don't say?

A beast with a bad stomach has hard muck

and you think back, young fella, this'un's muck was soft.

It were right soft.

Chocolate? - Thank you.

"Arizona Guns"?

What's happening? This can't be set in Scotland.

They sometimes change the films here without telling anyone.

Nobody seems to mind. - I do!

Hey, watch it! Watch out or I'll... I'll...

Doh!

Are you all right, Helen?

Morning, Mrs Hall. - Morning.

That looks good. Shall I try some? - No!

Yes, of course, Mr Cranford.

If it's what you say, there'll be no problem.

Morning. - Morning, James.

Morning. - Yes, this afternoon.

Morning, Mrs Hall. - Morning.

How did it go last night? - Oh, fine. Fine.

Helen actually enjoyed the Plaza?

One of the best nights she's spent, she said.

Will you stop that?

It were out again last night.

What was? - The ghost of Raines Abbey.

Tom Wetherby and his missus swear they saw it.

They imagined it. - There's something to it.

You wouldn't catch me up there at night.

What are you all doing in here?

James, add Isaac Cranford to your visits.

Isaac Cranford. - A big landowner round here.

Sour old devil. Tight with his brass.

What's his problem? - Beast was struck by lightning.

If it's true, sign a certificate of insurance for him, will you?

I don't remember a storm, do you? - You can't tell till you've seen it.

Be on your guard, he's a cunning old devil.

Mrs Hall, have we got any brown leather bootlaces?

Aye, in that cupboard. Top shelf. - Thank you very much.

Just what I want. You'll find his place beyond Raines Abbey.

You might even see the monk.

Monk? What monk? - The ghost of Raines Abbey.

Don't talk balderdash, Tristan!

And what have I said to you about smoking?!

This is only my second! - That is a downright lie!

I know it's your fourth or fifth!

Like I said, lightning. - I can't agree, Mr Cranford.

It died of convulsions. See where it kicked up the grass.

Aye, convulsions, but it were lightning what caused it.

No. If it had, this beast would have died without a struggle.

I've seen many a beast struck by lightning. Not all the same.

We should do a postmortem, just to make sure.

Aye.

Aye.

That were a good beast. Worth all of �80.

I know it. - Then you'll sign the certificate.

If there's no other obvious cause we'll put it down to lightning

but I've got to check first. - Particular, aren't you?

But I warn you, cross me on this and you'll be sorry.

I'll have Mallock get it to his yard and do the postmortem there.

He's a reliable person. - This damn ghost business!

I forbid you to mention it again!

You too, Mrs Hall. - It's a free country.

Or it would be if there weren't so many little Mr Hitlers about.

What did you say?

Now see what you've done? - Me?

Encouraging ridiculous superstitions in that woman.

You are not to upset Mrs Hall, Tristan.

Stagnation of t'lungs, knew it as soon as I saw it.

What are you talking about?

Stagnation of t'lungs, Mr Cranford.

You can tell by the look in the eye and line along back.

Shut your stupid mouth, Mallock. That beast was struck by lightning.

You'd best remember that. - Can we get it inside?

It ain't black rot nor gallstones. - Who asked you?!

You can't mistake stagnation of t'lungs, Mr Cranford.

Stagnation of lungs?! - Right, let's get it inside.

Aye, right.

Thanks, Mr Mallock.

That's what killed it, Mr Cranford.

What am I supposed to do with this?

Read it, Mr Cranford.

But I know what killed that beast!

Your beast died of acute heart failure. It's all in there.

It's my �80 insurance I'm thinking about.

Sorry, it was natural causes. You'll have to carry the loss.

Now, look, Mr Herriot,

we're... both men of the world and...

you know as well as I do that the insurance company

can stand the loss better than me.

Besides, they... wouldn't know, would they?

I would, Mr Cranford.

That's not going to bother the insurance company.

No, but it would bother me. - Come on, say it were lightning!

I can't do that and that's final. - I see.

Well, your boss is going to hear about this,

trying to tell me it were heart failure when it were lightning?!

You know nowt about stock, Mr Jumped-Up-Veterinary!

It was what I said it was, stagnation of t'lungs

caused by poison in t'blood getting back into t'body...

Shut your great gumph, Mallock! Lightning killed my beast!

Lightning!

You'll hear more of this, Mr Knowledge.

For a start, you'll not set foot on my farm again.

And other folk'll hear about it too.

You're finished, Herriot, do you hear? Finished!

Aye, it's a daft fella that can't accept scientific facts.

It's as plain as day his beast died of stagnation of t'lungs.

There, that wasn't too bad, was it?

Oh, you're a sweetie pie.

Yes, little one, very good.

You're a nice little lady, aren't you?

James... James, what the devil have you done to Isaac Cranford?!

Had words with you, has he? - Words?

If thoughts were deedshe'd have you roasting over hot coals.

He was trying to pull a fast one. - Not lightning, eh?

Lightning, my foot. It died of varicose endocarditis.

Endocarditis?

No wonder he didn't believe you. Very rare in cattle.

But that's what killed it.

Say no more, I'm seeing the miserable beggar. I'll sort him out.

Still with us, is he? - Yes, worse luck.

Now, then, Mrs Selby?

Here's Nelly, all right and tight.

You tell your Susan she'll be as right as a cat with two tails.

OK. - Goodbye to you.

He's too much of a skinflint to call in outside help now

so we're stuck with him, I suppose.

Moans like hell about paying and gives me the creeps.

Strike him off. - That wouldn't be ethical.

He'd have to walk off of his own accord.

I suppose I shall have to see that damn prize boar of his.

Good luck to you. - Thank you very much.

Anyway, James, no need for you to worry at all.

That's a nasty sore, Mr Cranford.

He probably picked up something rubbing against the sty

and it's turned septic.

What's to be done about it, Farnon?

I'll make you up an ointment. - Right. Nothing fancy, mark you.

Don't want you loading your bill as usual.

You pay for what you get. - Too bloody much, if you ask me.

You could always seek other advice, you know.

Reckon I'm stuck with you, Farnon.

Right, I'll post you the ointment.

Rub it in carefully by hand four times a day. You got that?

Aye, as long as it cures boar.

It will. Oh, end of the month's coming.

Perhaps you'd like to clear your bills for the last six months?

Must keep the books in order, you know.

You'll get paid, Farnon. Never fear.

Right, I'll be off, then. Thank you for the soap and water.

Remember, the ointment's to be rubbed in four times a day.

I heard you first time.

Well, I'll say goodbye.

Ohh...

Tris, you seen my hoof knife? - No.

Damn! Must've left it at Denham's.

Use Siegfried's. - Oh, good idea.

A-ha!

Caught red-handed! - It's to do Thomson's horse.

I couldn't find my knife.

So you thought you'd thieve my brand new one, eh?

I'll put it back. - What's happened to your knife?

A knife paid for with my hard-earned cash.

I left it at Willy Denham's place. - I see.

I'm sure he'll drop it in.

He'll consider it ideal for cutting his plug tobacco.

No, this business of mislaying things is getting under my skin.

You're just as guilty as he is.

What is the point of my buying expensive equipment

if you two simply turn round and lose it?

You'll agree, it's got to stop.

You may wonder why I never leave anything behind on the job, hm?

Yes, I was going to mention that. - Concentration.

Whenever I put something down...

I form a mental picture of the object,

which reminds me to pick it up again.

Oh, I see. - Simple once you get the knack.

I must try that. - Good. Subject closed.

Tristan, faeces sample,

send it to the lab for testing for Johne's disease.

The things people send by post.

Never mind the wit, check if anything else needs sending.

Oui, mon colonel.

James... what are you up to this afternoon?

I've got Thomson's horse. - Course you have.

And test the Dalby herd. - Good idea! Get back early.

I've got a stack of late jobs lined up for after supper,

I want your help. - Anything interesting?

No, just sheer muscle.

Horace Dawson's milk cow, Mabel, has torn a teat,

I'll need help stitching it up.

Nice cow, Mabel, but she goes frantic at the sight of a needle.

Fascinating. Um...

Mm-hm.

Let's have a mental picture, shall we?

I'll see you at supper.

Hello, Charlie. - Hello, Mr Herriot.

I've come to test the herd. - Down in t'bottom paddock.

Fine. I'll pay my respects then get to work.

Aye.

Afternoon, Mrs Dalby. - Mr Herriot. Come in.

I just thought I'd say hello.

You sit down, tea'll be brewed in no time.

I've got my boots on... - Oh, hush. You sit.

Thank you.

Billy and William are out working, I'm afraid.

You'll see 'em before you go. - Yes.

There, now, there's all your extra bits.

I'll spoil my supper if I eat... - Stuff and nonsense!

Our Billy can eat twice that between meals.

Oh. - You eat up, now.

If you insist. It looks delicious.

Mmm!

With the herd, I guess you'll take on extra help.

It'll be a long time before we can afford that, Mr Herriot.

It's a lot of work for one man.

We're not doing too badly. There's William.

And Charlie comes over from time to time.

And of course, I'm out there as well.

So you see... we're quite well off for hands.

There, just let it brew a minute.

I expect Billy could use all that help.

Aye. It's Billy who keeps the whole thing running,

if you know what I mean.

He's always planning, always doing.

Course, it's not been easy for him this past year,

finding money for t'cows.

And now getting barn ready for t'winter.

He's hardly taken time off for sleep these past months.

Still, work's gotta be done, I know that.

You've got yourself a good man. - Aye, I have that.

It's just winter that's worse, Mr Herriot.

Keeping cows fed and sheltered through t'snows.

Still, God willing, we'll come through it.

I'm sure you will, Mrs Dalby.

Come on, James, no need to make a banquet of that supper.

Coming. What's the first job?

Joe Kendall, one of his cows has some sort of tumour.

Come on, James!

Hello, I see you've got extra manpower tonight, Mr Farnon.

No time for chit-chat at this late hour.

Right, squire. Oh, something for you.

You left 'em last time, didn't you?

Er... Thank you. Where's the cow?

Aye. And you left your bloodless castrators time before that.

You never come here without leaving summat, do you?

Really? - Well, let's get on.

If I kept 'em, I'd have a drawerful by now.

Is that so? - Aye. Same with t'neighbours.

Never calls without leaving a souvenir, do you?

Where's the damn cow, Kendall?

There he is, Mr Farnon.

How you gonna get that lump off, then, Mr Farnon?

You'll need hacksaw or a carving knife for t'job, I reckon.

Right, anything else want doing while we're here?

No.

Just lump on cow there.

The tumour? Oh, that's gone.

Gone?

Gone, you say?

By God, you're right.

I never saw you use a knife, Mr Farnon.

I didn't, Mr Kendall.

I'm damned if I can see how you got it off without a knife.

Tricks of the trade, eh? - But it can't just vanish!

What you done with it? - I told you, it's gone.

How the hell did you do it?

If I told you that I'd be out of a job.

But lump were there, I saw it with me own eyes!

Well, if that's all, good night, Mr Kendall.

Aye, and good night to thee and all.

What did happen back there?

He's a bit of a know-all is old Joe Kendall.

It'll drive him crazy for weeks not knowing where the tumour got to.

Where did the tumour get to?

Well, I felt it move the moment I started to examine it.

And when I squeezed it, it popped out and shot up my sleeve.

There it is.

Any road, it'll keep him guessing, that's for sure.

I'm glad you got your stethoscope back.

Oh, yes! A moment of forgetfulness there.

Shan't stray again.

Is this what you're looking for?

I've been practising your mental image system.

It works, you know.

It's a bad tear, Horace - right into the milk channel.

Reckon Mabel would agree, Mr Farnon.

It'll need a good few stitches. I'll give her something for the pain.

I hope her temper's improved, Horace.

She's as gentle as a lamb, Mr Farnon.

Wasn't all that gentle last time, was she?

Reckon you caught her on an off day, Mr Farnon.

Right.

Hold her tightly, James.

Let your attention wander and she'll have you!

Horace, hold her tail, if you will.

Tightly, James, please!

Hmm.

Easy, girl.

Easy, easy...

Won't take long...

Oof!

Not nice, I know, but you'll feel better with this inside.

Hush, girl. Easy.

Easy. Easy there...

Ow!

Grab her, James!

Oof!

Got her! Got her!

All right?

Bloody but unbroken, I think.

She'll be all right.

Getting the needle in that first time causes all the trouble.

Reckon you touched her on a tender spot, Mr Farnon.

I suppose I did, Horace.

We'll just give the local some time to work and then stitch her up.

Evening, Horace. - Evening, Claude!

Gentlemen. - You're a bit off your beat.

Saw Horace's light, thought he'd be needing a hand.

Nay, thanks Mr Blenkiron but, er, we've almost finished now.

Pity you weren't here earlier

to tuck Mabel under your arm while I injected her.

I'll be on me way to Darrowby.

Good night. - Good night.

Hang on, Claude, would you give Mr Herriot a lift back?

No, it's...

I've only got one more visit, I can deal with that

and we need someone at home to man the fort.

Fine with me, Mr Farnon. - Sure you don't need me?

No, off you go. - Thanks, Siegfried.

Be right with you, Mr Blenkiron.

Night, Claude!

Good night. - Good night.

You've been away, haven't you?

Aye, defending me title, I was. - What title is that?

Northern Heavyweight Champion Wrestler.

How did it go?

Reckon I'm still champion.

'Ey up!

My God! We're at Raines Abbey! That's the monk, Mr Blenkiron!

Ghost, eh?

Come on, let's get the bugger!

Come on, Mr Herriot!

Quickly, Herriot, go round and cut him off!

What if we get him? - We'll skin the joker alive!

Come on!

Thank you. - Come on, lad, shift yourself!

Come on, move! - All right, I'm going, Mr Blenkiron!

There he is!

Watch that branch, Mr Blenkiron!

Come on, lad, get yourself up! Come on!

Shh!

Whoo! Oh!

Come on!

Shh! Listen.

He's given us the slip.

Come on, Mr Herriot, no sense hanging about here.

I've been after that joker for some days.

But don't you worry, I'll have him yet.

So you are the Raines ghost? - Afraid so.

I should have known you'd do something stupid like this.

It was only a lark. - You frightened me to death!

I'm sorry, James - really.

That gorilla Blenkiron would've torn me to shreds.

I've got a good mind to tell him.

No. I've a much better idea.

I'll leave you to Siegfried. - Oh, please!

What were you up to anyway?! - Shh! It was a lark, I told you.

Worked, too. I always chose my victims carefully.

I thought Tom Wetherby could do with a shock.

And me too, I suppose? - I couldn't resist it.

Anyway, it was getting the timing right that mattered.

You know, when the drivers aren't sure they've seen you.

Then you see them revving up and haring off!

No, you're absolutely right, it was a crazy thing to do.

Get out of those things before you catch your death.

I'm warning you - if that ghost ever appears again you are for it.

Don't worry, James, that ghost is well and truly buried.

Charlie?

Charlie!

Mr Herriot. Sorry, I didn't hear you.

I just thought I'd look in to see how things were.

That's kind of you.

Sit down, I'll make some tea. - No, it's all right.

Please. 'Sides, I were just going to get one for meself.

Has Billy got the hard standing for the barns laid?

No. William and Charlie are... - Mam?

Hello, Mr Herriot. - Hello, William.

You hard at it? - We're finishing the barns.

Aye, and you make a proper job of it.

We need more cement - will you order it?

Your father has - should be here tomorrow.

So long as it's done before dad gets back. Bye!

Bye, William.

Billy's away, is he?

He's in hospital. - Hospital?

Aye.

Happened two days ago.

He'd been out, working all hours.

Got himself a right soaking.

He were taken very poorly.

William thinks it's just summat small, that Billy'll be back soon.

But I don't know.

Doctors say he's really bad. - Do they know what it is?

Aye. Pneumonia.

Worst kind of pneumonia at that.

Very housewifey of you, James.

Tristan.

Yes, Siegfried?

Do you recall I asked you to post certain items a few days ago?

Oh, the sample to the lab and the ointment to... Cranford.

Exactly. - I posted them the same day.

Quite a simple operation, one might suppose.

Two items, two labels, you wrap them up and post them.

Exactly. What's wrong? - "What's wrong?" he says.

This is a letter from Isaac Cranford with enough venom to wither a city.

What's he complaining about now? - What's he complaining about?

Well, he's complaining about opening your package

and smearing the contents liberally over his pig

and working it well in with his fingers four times a day...

as instructed.

And then finding that it isn't an ointment after all.

What was it?

Infected cow dung!

The infected faeces sample you should've sent to the labs!

God, I sent the wrong... - Yes, you botched it!

It's a miracle the wretched man isn't a diseased wreck by now.

I wonder how the labs are getting on testing the ointment?

I'm sorry, Siegfried. - Hear that, James? He's sorry.

Sorry?! There's no need to be sorry!

I wanted to congratulate you -

Cranford says he will never do business with us again.

You're a genius, Tristan! You got rid of the old vulture at last!

How about that?