All language subtitles for AllCreaturesGreatAndSmallS7_KnowinHowtoDoIt_eng

Bye, Mrs Stubbs.

Thank you, Mrs Stubbs,
it will keep me glued
together for a week.

-Oh!
-Mr Herriot!

Sorry. Sorry.

Would you like a hand,
Mr Herriot?

No, I can manage, thanks.
Here, oh, let me let
you get past.

Here we go.

Ah, you ought to be careful
to get those mortises square.

What?

Untold trouble later
if you don't.

The whole thing will wobble.

They're dovetails,
actually, Tris.

When have you ever
made anything?

Wouldn't presume to, James.
Go to the professionals,
that's my advice.

Well, thank you
very much, Tris.

Now, if you've got
nothing better to do.

You are making this
for Helen's birthday,
aren't you?

Yes.

-March, the 14th.
-Yes.

-This year?
-Yes!

Get her a backup present
just in case.

-It will be finished on time.
-Hmm...

For her to pick up
her pension.

Mr Edwards on Market Street
is an excellent joiner.

Good morning, Mrs A.

Is someone
in the waiting room?

Just making sure
we're not at war
with anyone.

Oh, I'm deadly serious,
Mrs A.

It's vital, we vets keep
abreast of the times.

Do you realise that
for some of our more
remote clients

we provide a truly
social service?

An opportunity to indulge
in intelligent,
social intercourse

denied them by
their isolation.

I think you mean
you'd rather talk
than work, Mr Tristan.

Page 15.

It's my Dilly, Mr Herriot.

Your what?

-(PHONE RINGS)
-Oh, phone.

There we go.

He's fallen out, behind.

Yes.

-Can you hang on just a tick.
-You've been bit!

Hit. Hammered actually.

Let's have a look, Mr Herriot.

No, it's quite all right,
honestly.

You can't be too careful.
Let me look.

-I've done first aid,
you know.
-Have you?

Now, what we need
is some antiseptic.

Right.

Here we are.

Dear, what...
Isn't that meant for
the animals, Mr Herriot?

We are animals too,
Miss Worrall.

I suppose it will be
all right then.

Now, it would be easier...

Could you just sit down?

Yes. I don't think
it's too serious. See?

You can never tell.

Ooh!

The poison spreads
to your system,
you could very ill.

What?

James, have you seen
the ministry regulations on
brucellosis?

I was mugging them up
this morning.

I must have put them
down somewhere.

-No, sorry.
-Oh!

Ah! Miss Worrall,
how delightful to see you.

-You too, Mr Farnon.
-Thanks.

It's my Dilly, Mr Farnon.

I'm very worried about him.

He's very poorly.

You can make him well,
can't you?

Well, alas,
dear Miss Worrall,

I must be halfway
across the county
within the hour.

Mr Herriot will attend
to your every need
in a trice.

Mr Herriot's not well.
His thumb's in a bad way.

Mr Herriot is
a veterinary surgeon
of the greatest resource.

I'm sure he'll contrive
a way to manage.

He has had
such a good teacher.

No.

It's my brother's surgery,
this morning.

I'll see that he attends
to you at once.

Whatever you think is best,
Mr Farnon.

Sooner your drake is restored
to full health,

the better I shall be pleased,
Miss Worrall.

Thank you so much,
Mr Farnon.

It's entirely my pleasure.

Oh, James!

(CHUCKLES) Oh, sorry.

SIEGFRIED:
I'm going to get it.

-Are you ill?
-I beg your pardon.

Excused boots?

I'm perfectly well, Siegfried.

Then why are you
not at your post

ministering to
the flock of clients
like a good shepherd?

There wasn't a soul
in there just now.

Well, just now,
one of your apparently
invisible souls

was administering first aid
to James in the surgery.

Do you know what you are?

You're an idler.
A lounge lizard.

Were you out late again
last night?

-I had a couple of pints
at The Drover's, that's all.
-I knew it.

That's why you're draped
all over the sofa
like a rank starlet.

Have you ever seen

a liver in the final stages
of cirrhosis?

A couple of pints?

Don't delude yourself,
my dear boy.

What flows in your veins
is approximately 20% proof.

I suppose it wouldn't
interest you at all

that our first client
is a young woman.

-Page 15.
-What's that?

The Doncaster results.

(DOOR CLOSES)

Ah! So, you're the young lady.

Mr Farnon mentioned me,
did he?

He does often, Miss Worrall.

Speaks very highly
of you indeed.

"One of our
most valued clients",
he's very fond of saying.

Oh!

Now, what seems
to be the problem?

What? Oh!

-Well, it's my Dilly.
-(PHONE RINGING)

-He...
-I'll be with you
in one moment.

Nailed.

Tristan, I've only got
one pair of hands.

(PHONE CONTINUES RINGING)

Admit defeat gracefully.
Go to Mr Edwards.

JAMES: All right, I'll go now,
if you answer that
wretched telephone.

TRISTAN:
Siegfried can do it.
He's only reading the paper.

I'll leave
Sally to you then.

I'll answer the telephone.

(PHONE RINGING)

Darrowby 385!

Yes!

Could you just wait there
and I'll ask Mr Farnon?

What did you say
your name was again?

Sir George Rowland.

Thank you, Miss Worrall.

See we're all so busy.

You've done splendidly.

Farnon the elder here.
Sir George,
what may I do for you?

-Bye, Tris.
-TRISTAN: Goodbye, James.

No, no, not at all,
Sir George.
No disruption.

One cannot be too careful
with these pedigrees.

-Ah! James, the very man.
-What?

I'll tell you what,
I'll give William III
the once over,

and I'll report to you
at, uh, noon.

Oh, luncheon.
How, how, very,
very kind of you.

I'll see you then.

-James...
-I can't.

Very important client, James.

It's the Sir Georges
of the Dales

are the sort of people
we simply must cling on to.

It's vital that I go.

So, I fear I shall not be able
to complete the strain-19
brucellosis vaccinations.

-On the Prendergast herd?
-Precisely.

Ah, but it is absolutely
crucial. I'm sorry, James.

It won't take you long.

Does it have to be today?

I'm afraid so, James.

The vaccine's in the cupboard.

Um, could you get
my bag for me?

Thank you, James.
You saved the day
yet again.

I'll see if I can't catch us
a bottle of his claret.

Magnificent cellar.

Looks like the poor devil's
been subject to a spot
of vent pecking, Miss Worrall.

Oh, it's the hens.

-They won't leave him alone.
-Can't you keep him
away from them?

I couldn't do that.
It would be so cruel!

Cruel?

He was brought up
with them.

One of them hatched him.

He still thinks
she's his mother.

I think, he's old enough
to leave home now.

Good Lord.

Well there, it's in but I
don't hold out much hope.

Oh, Mr Farnon said
you'd be able to save him.

Yes, well, I've done my best
but he is very ill.

Oh, but he's all right
now his vent's closed.

In the normal way,
I would have recommended
putting him down...

(GASPS)

...but since I know my brother
would have done everything in
his power to save your Dilly,

I've done the same.

Well, actually, Miss Worrall,
the vent's almost certain
to be infected.

Ducks do have such complicated
reproductive organs.

He's much more than a duck,
Mr Herriot.

Yes, yes, of course, he is.

When will Mr Farnon be back?

Oh, not till
late this afternoon.
Probably, even later.

But he is taking
surgery tomorrow.

I'm sure he'd be delighted
to see you then.

I haven't finished
your thumb, Mr Herriot.

No, don't worry, Miss Worrall.

This Mr Farnon is a dab hand
with a bandage.

I am sorry.

What you did was perfect.
Thank you very much.

Oh, good.

-Goodbye, then.
-Goodbye.

Bye, Miss Worrall.

I thought you were off
to see Mr Edwards.

Well, I can't now, can I?

The Prendergast herd need
their strain-19 today.

I thought Siegfried was...

I know, of course,
Sir George.

Well, poor old you.

Nat Briggs isn't the easiest
of farm managers, is he?

No.

Tristan, actually,
you could do it.

Me? Well, no, I can't.

Why not?

Well, surgery, I'm on surgery.

-And then there are my calls.
-What calls?

Well, whatever comes in.

I would be grateful, Tris.
It was your idea
I went to see Mr Edwards.

I'm sorry, James.

All right,
good luck with Sally.

Sally?

Well, she'll be back
in two minutes, won't she?

How long have you
ever known a prolapse
to stay in?

And the ministry pay a penny
a shot to the chap
who gives the jabs.

-Oh, really?
-Yeah.

Bye, Tris.

Wait!

How could I let my fellow man
down in his hour of need?

Quite.

Thanks, Tris. Careful.
Remember they are alive.

Oh, and, uh, not a word
to Siegfried, eh?

-Pardon?
-About the dresser.

You know what he's like
with surprises.

Oh, no. Of course not.

Huh!
Thanks a lot, Tris.

-Bye.
-Bye.

(DOOR CLOSES)

(COWS MOOING)

-Morning!
-Morning.

MAN 1: Go on! On your way!
MAN 2: Get on!

MAN 3: Go on.

Mr Edwards?

Mr Herriot, the veterinary.

Right, on both counts.

You're too late, lad.

I buried Clara months since.

Over there.

-JAMES: You must miss her.
-Aye, I do.

You could always
get another dog.

Yeah, I will,
when I have a mind to.

I bet you've not come here
to sell me a hound now, is it?

I've come for a bit
of advice actually.

(CHUCKLES) Come in, lad.

Thanks.

(COWS MOOING)

Give it a shot, then,
shall we, Nat?

That's what you're here for,
ain't it?

Hold her nice and steady.

Excellent.
Send her along then,
please, Nathaniel.

Call the next one,
please, Ray.

EDWARDS: Touch it, go on.

(LAUGHS) You're not
stroking wife's cheek.

Very smooth, isn't it?

Solid within.

There.
That will not let you down.

(CHUCKLES)

I've been looking for that
all over.

Mr Edwards,
that's very impressive.

Think I can do anything
as complicated as that?

Of course you can.

Man with your education
and skill with your hands.

It's just a matter
of knowing how to do it.

Oh!

Let's get on with job,
shall we?

That's what he says
to his Barbara after cocoa.

Barbara?

-His missus.
-Got wed in October.

Hasn't cheered him up much.

Well, it did at the start.

He was dead excited about
carrying on the family name.

But nowt has happened.

-In six months.
-He's right worried about it.

I say he's not
doing job right.

-Needs lessons, I reckon.
-(ALL LAUGHING)

He hates that.

Drives the beggar wild.

Aye!

If you want to see a volcano,

ask him if his Barbara's
in family way.

Oh, thank you.

(ALL CHUCKLING)

Oh, come on,
let's be having...

That's what he says next.

NAT: What's so funny, Farnon?

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Let's get on with the job
then, shall we?

(BOTH LAUGHING)

Proper joint work.
That's the secret.

Joints that will stand up
to job.

Yes, quite.

-Goodbye, Mr Edwards.
-Hey, come here.

Look at this.

Over here, lad.

On the knees.
Never mind the shame. Let's
get this set down here.

Look at them joints.

Oh, yes.

Try and pull them apart.
Go on.

(LAUGHING)

Proper dovetails.

No glue.

Strong as steel
where you need it,

yet you can pull them apart
like lifting carrots.

There's more to joinery
than you thought, eh, lad?

Certainly is.

Right.

-Bye, Mr Edwards.
Thanks a lot.
-Don't forget.

You'll need a sliding bevel
and a proper rule.

Right.

Start by marking in the joints
and then cutting it inwards.

Ta!

Right.

Thanks for all the advice,
Mr Edwards.

Eh, don't worry, lad.

It's just a matter of knowing
how to do it.

(COWS MOOING)

Come on, Farnon,
I want to be home
for me dinner.

There we go, Nat.

The paso doble!

If we jam two in together
they won't be able to swing
about all over the shop.

In two's, Nat, like Noah.

-There's no room for two.
-Yes, there is.

It would be faster too.
Don't want your dinner
to go cold.

It might save a few minutes,
I suppose.

TRISTAN:
Damn near half the time.
NAT: If it works.

Go on, then.
Make a fool of this, then.

In you go!

(COW MOOING)

(VOCALISING)

Tight fit.

Snug I'd say.

Steady with
number one, there.

Now, I inject.

Ah! There we are.
I put this back.

And number two!

Ah, just move forward now.

There we go.
On they go on, Nathaniel.

Hand the next two please.

Go on.

Go on.

HELEN: James!

Hello, darling.

James?

James?

Hello, darling.
How was the electricity man?

Did he manage
to find the fault?

And most important,
is it gonna cost me
a fortune? (CHUCKLES)

-Are you all right?
-Why, never felt better.

The electricity man
seemed well.

He had a cold a few weeks ago,

but swore by an infusion
of lemon balm and chamomile.

And yes, he traced the fault
to a bare wire in the cupboard
under the stairs.

-What was the third question?
-Oh, I don't know.

-What's for lunch?
-Casserole.

-In the oven.
-Splendid.

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello, Darrowby 385.

Yes, Miss Worrall.

No, I'm sorry, Mr Farnon Sr
hasn't returned yet.

Mr Herriot's here though.

(WHISPERS)
I think you're bit
of a disappointment.

Here is Mr Herriot.

Miss Worrall?

You want me to
have another go?

Yes, of course,
I'll come out
as soon as I can.

-Bye.
-Should I serve up, then?

Uh, yes, please, darling.

I may need another implement.

Mrs Alton, did, uh,
Mr Herriot say where he
could be reached this morning?

Let me see.

He did say
I could get him at...

Mr Edwards'.

Ah, yes.
Mr Edwards'.

(SINGING) All set?

Oops! Close.
(CHUCKLING)

There we go.
And on to number two.

-(SCREAMS) Oh, God!
-(ALL LAUGHING)

You daft bugger, Farnon.
What the bloody hell
have you done?

It's all right, Nat.
You didn't get any vaccine.
Look.

You stupid bloody fool!

Oh, now, come on, Nat.

You bent right onto
the needle.

You what?

You came right at me
and stuck the bloody
thing right in my arse.

(LAUGHING)
It's only a scratch.

Don't give me that.

I felt it go right in.

All right, Ray,
give us a hand.

-What?
-Come on, Nat, get
your breeches down

-I wanna have a look.
-Not on your bloody
nelly, Farnon.

You, get on and get
these beasts done.

And you do them
one at a time, now!

I put it back in twice.

It's enlarged and flaccid now.

Too big for the vent.

Damned hens
were pecking at it.

They thought it was a worm,
I expect.

Cannibalism.

I know it sounds daft
but they all do it.

He's such a good friend,
Mr Herriot.

JAMES: In you go, come on.
In you go.

Yes. Yes.

We've done all we can,
Miss Worrall.

It will stay in this time.

It's very engorged
and it's very infected.

May be too late.

Mr Farnon would save him.
I know he would.

Well, let's see
what happens, eh?

I know how fond
you are of him.

He's a good vet, that's all.

I meant Dilly.

Poor old chap,
I bet he's in a lot of pain.

Why did you have to go
courting the hens?

I'd have got you a wife
if I'd known.

Miss Worrall,
if he gets worse...

I know what to do.

I'll help him on his way.

Well, I've been culling hens
since I was a nipper.

But have you ever
killed a duck?

It's the same thing, ain't it?

Their necks are thicker.
Much stronger, you see.

Far more difficult to stretch.

It won't come to that.

-He's all right now.
-(QUACKING)

Look.

Well, if you need me...

Oh, Dilly.

It swelled up
something rotten, it has.
It hurts too.

-Like it's on fire.
-The missus will give thy
a cushion where thy needs it.

I can laugh. But what's
going to happen now, eh?

It was only a scratch, Nat.

I've had a dose
of that abortion stuff.

What's it going
to do to me, eh?

You're not a calf,
are you, lad?

NAT: It's not funny!

If you feel your calf
slipping out
you just tell me.

I'll see that
it gets milk, Nat.

Well, that stuff's mucky.
Live vaccine, ain't it?

Put our family plans
right out, that will.

Nat, the vaccine can't
possibly harm your chances
of becoming a father.

-Yeah, so you say.
-You may be a bit sore
but there's no damage done.

My arse says different.

-Nat, I'm terribly sorry.
-I'm a family man, Farnon.

You hear me?

You're in no danger
there, honestly.

Time will tell, Farnon.

(SNICKERS)

You can judge a man
by his wine cellar, James.

Ah! That puts me
in my place.

How so?

Our wine cellar, Siegfried,
consists of two bottles of
last year's elderberry wine

and a five year old
bottle of sloe gin.

Eclectic and eccentric,
James.

Two English characteristics
that I hope will never
disappear from among us.

Master Tristan,
your presence is awaited.

This is a particularly
fine bottle of claret,
is it, Siegfried?

Oh, well, the '37
Saint-Emilions were a pretty
good bunch, yes, indeed.

What's left of them,
yes, yes...

I look forward to tasting it.

Ah, hail, the conquering hero.

Energetic day up
at the Prendergast herd?

Yes, and you?

I...

Well, I saved an invaluable
racehorse from certain death.

I met an enchanting
Hereford bull.

I devoured an excellent lunch
in delightful company.

And I administered antibiotics
to an ailing tup.

And I returned with
this prize for...

our mutual delectation.

Have you ever seen a liver
in the final stages of
cirrhosis, Siegfried?

This is wine.
Just a...

One's liver is perfectly safe
in the hands of the great
viticulturists of the Gironde.

Yes. Well, thanks but
I'll settle for The Drover's

where I know I shall have
a good honest pint of
Yorkshire ale.

Oh, dear! Oh, dear!
Poor boy.

Wasted on him anyway.
He can't tell a Burgundy
from a Bordeaux.

And the...
The Drovers, James,

it's really only one step up
from an opium den.

That lad's gonna turn
into an alcoholic.

Oh, I think this has stood
there long enough

to be decently...
James, you're not gonna
let me down?

-Certainly not, Siegfried.
-Mmm-hmm.

One glass before I go, eh?

-There you are, James.
-Thank you.

(SIGHS)

À votre santé, James.

Et tu, Siegfried?

Oh!

Very, um, full bodied.

One sip,
I'm Aphrodite's slave

and this is Mount Olympus.

If that's done any
damage to my tackle,

I'll pay for it, Veterinary.

You've got
nothing to worry about, Nat.

-Trust me.
-Trust thee?

I wouldn't trust thee
to carve Sunday joint,
you cack-handed beggar.

-Let me buy you a drink, Nat.
-I'd rather have rat poison.

All right, I'll get you
a pint of that then.

Don't be funny
with me, Farnon.

Flash tongue, flash clothes,

flash vetting.

Too flash by half ain't that?

I ought to lay thee out.

By 'eck, if we've not had
some good news
by summer,

I'll be back for thee.

By heck I will!

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION)

-Oh, James.
-What, darling?

It's perfect.

-It certainly is lovely.
-(CLOCK CHIMES)

-Um, darling, don't you think
we ought to...
-It's beautiful!

Well, it's not bad.

Well, it matches the table
exactly. They could've been
made for each other.

No, no, no.
It's the wrong colour.
It's darker.

No, no. It's near enough.
I mean no one looks
that closely, do they?

-Well, I think it's too big.
-Ah, well, let's see,
shall we?

Uh, darling, what time
are we picking up the kids?

-Oh, not until 5:00.
-Uh-huh.

-You're not gonna
believe this.
-Aren't I?

It's made to measure.

-Really?
-Exactly 46 inches.

-Oh, it's wonderful.
-James, it's fate.

It was meant for us.

Yes, it would be wonderful.

-What do you mean "would"?
-Well, if we could
afford it, darling.

What? We haven't spent
that much, lately.
How much is it, anyway?

(EXHALES SHARPLY) Oh, no idea.
It's bound to be
terribly expensive.

-James.
-Good Lord.

-James, it's in the sale.
-Darling, it's nearly £3.

Oh, yes.
That's incredibly cheap.

-Helen...
-James, it's ideal.

Next month, eh?

-James.
-What?

Well, we can afford it.

-What's the matter with you?
-Nothing. Look,

-we've paid the electric,
we've paid the insurance,
-(SIGHS)

the mortgage is due
any minute.

And the practice has done
excellent business this month.

No, we can't rely
on that money
filtering through

for at least a month,
can we?

Somebody else would have
bought it by then.

The children,

they need new shoes, darling.

And we've always said
we must put their needs first.

-Don't you like it, James?
-I love it

-but we must be prudent.
-(SIGHS)

James,

I've got a birthday
coming up soon, remember?

We are living well beyond
our means, you know.

-James!
-And it's gotta
stop somewhere.

Anything I can do for you?

-No.
-(DOG BARKING IN DISTANCE)

Could you close the door
on your way out?

Spot of reading?

Improving my mind.

Ah!

That's a very
laudable exercise,
my dear brother.

Casino Royale, good grief.

Have you read it?

Mr Bond's misadventures,
I would have thought,

are hardly calculated
to improve one's mind.

You have finished
that Somerset Maugham
I lent you?

It's boring.

"Boring"?

"Boring"?

Boring.

Sometimes I cannot believe
we're out of the same flesh.

"Boring"?

Boring, Siegfried.

I...thought I might
pop into The Drover's
on my way home.

-Good idea.
-(JANGLING COINS)

Do you care to accompany me?

And partake
of the demon drink?
No, thank you.

Are you quite well, Tristan?

Never better.

I'm paying.

(SIEGFRIED JANGLING COINS)

I'm reading.

"Boring"?

(SIGHS)

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

(DOG BARKING)

(DOOR OPENS)

James, morning.

Up with the lark, eh?

Yes, nothing
like it, Siegfried.

(BOTH CHUCKLE)

-James.
-Yes?

Could you spare me a word?

Yes.

It's, uh... It's Tristan.

Oh, God. What's he done now?

I mean,
is everything all right
between you two?

Yes, why?

It's probably nothing.

Do you think he's...

What?

No, nothing, James.

Well, is he ill?

Do you think he is, James?

Well, he has been a bit...

Not quite himself
this last day
or two precisely.

Quieter I suppose.

Hushed as a church mouse.
Saintly as a choirboy.

What the devil's the matter
with him, James?

Perhaps he's maturing.

A man who reads Ian Fleming
in preference
to Somerset Maugham?

Come on.

(MAN SPEAKING ON RADIO)

Hello, Tristan.

Morning, Siegfried.

-James.
-Morning, Tristan.

(SIGHS) All right, I confess,
I had a glass
about two days ago.

(SHUSHING) One tumbler
does not an empty
decanter make.

-Well, perhaps Tristan?
-Maybe, perhaps, yes.

-He might have had
a glass or two.
-He might indeed.

I've always been terrified
it would come to this, James.

-Siegfried, I've gotta go.
-Well, where?

Mr Edwards.

Odd time of the year,
isn't it?

Busy?

Yes, the darkest part
just before the dawn
of spring.

Just busy for us.

Feeling the strain,
are you, Helen?

(SIGHS) Well, James has been
working very hard lately.

Overworking perhaps?

Well, he just seems odd,

irritable, secretive.

Do you know, he forgot
to wish Rosie good luck
for her exam yesterday?

Oh, dear.
Poor old Rosie.
Oh, dear. (CHUCKLES)

Positively rabid
over the price of a
Welsh dresser in Pickerings.

-Expensive, are they?
-No, it was in the sale.

And it was ideal.
Ideal for Rowan Garth.

Well, that's it.

It's money,
that's what on his mind.

You ask him, Helen.

We're not speaking.

What?

(CLUCKING IN DISAPPOINTMENT)

You must talk
to one another, Helen.

Silence is divine, yet also
brutish and dead.

Speech is human.
It's what separates us
from the animals.

Leave that aside,
you're left with only
with base responses.

Yes, yes. I know, I know.
You're right.

But has he seemed
a bit strange here, too?

Well, perhaps
a little bit less than
his usual perky self but...

Well, that's a relief, anyway.

And I'm glad
that's settled, anyway.

Um, time to entertain
the clients.

Um, Helen...

You haven't noticed anything

odd about Tristan as well,
have you?

Tristan?

Well, I mean his habits,
general behaviour.

No, why?

Oh, it's probably nothing.

It's probably just
my imagination
running riot.

Siegfried.

You don't happen to know
where James is now, do you?

Oh, James, um...

I think he murmured something
about going to see Mr Edwards

as he headed out
half an hour ago.

Now, then.

Ah, Steven, isn't it?

Aye. And he's Tigger.

Uh-huh.

I know.
Your father telephoned.

I understand
Tigger came off second best

in a confrontation
with a horseless carriage,
is that it?

Nay, nay.
He was run over by a car.

Ah, yes.

Is that G. Edwards?

-Is there another?
-No.

SIEGFRIED: Yeah,
little fella's had
quite a morning, hasn't he?

Collie cross,
I think you'll find, Helen.

Yes, that's it.

Treated her myself
many times.

She died a month ago.

You're absolutely right,
Helen.

Heart failure.

Or was it poison?

-Poison?
-Hmm?

Do all your animals die?

Well, in the end, Steven, yes.

Well, Tigger's
a right good cat.

We don't want to lose him.

Well, he's had a nasty shock

but I don't believe
there's anything broken

but we'll take an X-ray
just to make sure.

Will it all cost more
than 6 shilling?

Well, we shan't know that
until we see
the result of the X-ray.

We'll give him
a thorough examination

while he's under
the anaesthetic.

If it's more than 6 shilling
we'll not waste any more
of your time.

Plenty more cats to be had.

Well, I tell you what, Steven.

You leave Tigger here with us

and come back, say,
at 6:00 this evening
to collect him, all right?

-All right.
-Helen, would you mind
having a word with Tigger?

We'll give him our
5 and 11-penny special,
what do you say to that?

STEVEN: Aye.

All right. See you then.

I know one shouldn't
run a practice
as a charity.

Let's just say
I'm a sentimental old fool,
that's it and all about it.

Now, then.

The rib cage is
very sensitive.

Do you know
Mr Edwards hasn't got
any animals any more?

James has gone rushing off
to see a man
without an animal.

Shoulder muscles
are probably torn.

Well, perhaps
he's replaced the dog.

But why isn't it
in the files?

Oh, paperwork, Helen,

it's the bane of our lives.

It's a nasty contusion
around the eye.

But I believe he'll recover.

I'll just clean out
this gravel rash

and I'll need some
antibiotics, Helen.

All right.

-Thank you, Siegfried.
-What?

-For listening.
-(LAUGHS)

Always here with an ear,
my dear Helen.

You know, I think
I better have a word
with that husband of yours.

I believe it's high time

that he took you out
to dinner somewhere
really rather special.

(DOOR OPENS)

(SOBBING) Oh, Mr Farnon.

-SIEGFRIED: Miss Worrall.
-Mr Farnon.

Dilly's dead.

His prolapse kept on
coming out

and he was in such pains.
So, I...

Mr Herriot put him
out of his misery
for you, did he?

I did it.

I killed him meself.

Well done you.
I am so sorry, Miss Worrall.

I thought to telephone

but I know how busy you are.

I'm never too busy
to help valued clients,
Miss Worrall.

I dug his grave

but I couldn't bear to just
cover him in earth with worms.

I thought you might want him.

For lunch?

I want to feel

that his death isn't in vain,
Mr Farnon.

Dear Miss Worrall,
did he not give you pleasure
while he lived?

Perhaps you could give him
a post-mortem,

find out what killed him,

and to help other ducks
to live.

JAMES: Oh, I see...

With the grain. (CHUCKLES)

Well, it's easy
when you know how.

Aye.

Just take your time
and take care.

Ah, she needs a walk, does
Ellie? Don't you, love?

Ah, she's a beauty, aren't ya?

-You give me a call if there's
any problems, will you?
-Aye, I will that.

Thanks a lot, Mr Edwards. Bye.

And don't forget,

it's not just skill,
it's knowing how to do it.

I want you to be
particularly kind
to Mrs Alton.

-Why?
-She's got a lot on her mind
at the moment.

-Oh, I see.
-Family problems, you know.

The worst.

-Yeah, she's very worried
about her niece.
-Is she?

Yeah, in fact,
the whole family's
most concerned.

-I'll treat her
with care, Siegfried.
-Good.

You see, this,
this niece of hers

is most desperately keen
to start a family

but so far nothing.

-What's her name, Siegfried?
-Who?

Mrs Alton's niece
who can't conceive.

Uh... Betty.

No, no, uh, Barbara... Briggs.
Barbara Briggs.

She's married to Nat Briggs,

the cowman you
unfortunately

injected with
strain-19 vaccine, apparently.

(SIGHING) Yes,
they blame me, Siegfried.

-What?
-It's ridiculous.

But that's absurd.

Anyone would think
I castrated him.

What did you say
to Mrs Alton?

I told her there could be
no possible connection

between your
unfortunate mishap

and Nat Briggs' inability
to impregnate Mrs Briggs.

(SIGHING) I just wish
there was something
I could do.

You've done quite
enough already.

-Do you want a drink?
-Uh, no, no, thank you.

Why not?

TRISTAN: Nat drinks here.

-Here?
-Usually.

Well, I call that monstrous.

We must get some sense
into this fella...

I refuse to have
my own brother

forced to spend his evenings
a prisoner in Skeldale
just because of a damned lie.

Come on, Tristan,
gird thy loins up.

You and I will confront
Nathaniel Briggs together.

Oh, no, no, Siegfried, I...

I haven't finished
the Somerset Maugham book
you, you lent me.

Haven't you?

Well, perhaps,
discretion is the better part
of valour in your case.

(SOFT MUSIC PLAYING)

Well, perhaps you should try
and take things easier, James.

I'm not overworked
just now.

Try telling that to Jimmy.
He hasn't seen you
hardly at all this last week.

I've been busy.
Odd hours, you know.

-Doing what?
-Nothing.

Well, nothing
out of the ordinary.

Here's good health to you all.

-It's not my health
I want, Farnon.
-(SIGHS) Here we go.

-(MOCKING) Me manhood's been
ruined forever.
-It's true, it has.

-Has it?
-(MOCKING)
I'll never be a dad.

Aye.

-I won't.
-Never?

-(MIMICKING) I'm impotent.
-I am.

And that brother of yons
cause of it. He's to blame.

Cobble is naught.

He just don't know
how to do it properly,
Mr Farnon. (CHUCKLES)

James, maybe...
Maybe you could take
a couple of days off.

-I'm fine.
-No, you're not, James.

You've been
very strange lately.

-Excuse me, Mr Herriot.
-Yes.

A telephone call, sir.

-Oh, sorry, love.
-A Mr Edwards.

-Is it urgent?
-"As soon as possible",
he said.

I'll bring the bill, sir.

Right, thanks.

I have to go, darling.

What animal are you treating
for Mr Edwards, James?

-I'm waiting.
-Dog.

He hasn't got a dog.

Yes, he has. Brand new puppy.

She's called Ellie.

Beautiful collie,
just arrived.

-I wish you could
come with me, darling.
-Well, I could.

You did promise the babysitter
that we'd be in by 10:00

and heaven knows
what time I'll get away.

What's wrong with the dog?

Well, I won't know
till I see it.

Surely you must have by now.

After all you spend more time
with Mr Edwards

than you do at home
with your own family.

Just help me
get him to my car.
I'll take him home.

Rode up on me bike.
I've got me bike.

Don't worry about your bike.
Pick it up there tomorrow.

Now, then,

you remember
what I told you, Nat?

-I must try harder.
-That's it.

That's right.

Good night.

-Dear Mrs Briggs.
-Nat Briggs!

You disgusting...

Come here.

Dear Mrs Briggs,
I must apologise for the

-pickle your husband's
in tonight.
-(SIGHS)

We've had a few beers,
Barbara...

(SARCASTICALLY)
I'd never have known.

But I have to say
I do feel partly responsible.

You are completely
responsible, Mr Farnon.

You and your vaccinations.

No, Barbara, we...

Up those stairs.

And I (STAMMERS) beg you
to believe, Mrs Briggs,

that the vaccination
is entirely harmless.

So you say
but I know different.

I assure you...

You can assure all you like,
Mr Farnon, but outside.
Good night.

No, you...

Right. That's it!

The final straw.

I'm going to a solicitor
in the morning.

I'll bring that beggar to book
once and for all.

Keep going, Nat.

You've not finished
for the night yet.

JAMES: Got it.

Big lump for a little dog.

Hope it's not
one of my failed joints.

Nay, Mr Herriot.

I'm always meaning to
sweep up more than I do.

He'll be a bit sore
for a couple of days.

-There's nothing
to worry about.
-Hey,

you brought her back
from the dead, Mr Herriot.

Well, it's a very simple
procedure, Mr Edwards.

It's just a matter of

knowing how to do it.

(CHUCKLES)

Letter for you, Mr Farnon.

-Oh, really? Thank you.
-By hand.

Gracious me.

Nat?

Nat, ah! Um...

Yes, oh, the news is not...

very good.

I'm afraid you must
regard The Drover's

out of bounds
for the foreseeable...

Great Scott.

-You're in trouble, my boy.
-What?

You could end up penniless
under a railway arch
in Sheffield.

And nothing but
the sporting life between you
and the cold night air.

-Well, what is it?
-You've brought this practice
into disrepute. (THUMPING)

Lower than even you
have ever brought it before.

Siegfried, explain.

God, man, how could you do it?

A simple injection which the
merest student could manage
with both his eyes shut.

You, you incompetent buffoon,

end up jamming the implement
straight into
the man's backside.

You are being sued.

Strictly, Siegfried,

you are being sued.

SIEGFRIED: What?

S. Farnon, I believe.

(MUTTERING)
Unbelievable. Where do they
get these girls?

There's quite a gap
on the typewriter,

isn't that between the "S"
and the "T"?

Sheffield was it, Siegfried,
your railway bridge?

Wait a minute, Prendergast,
James is due
up there today.

Good luck to him.

We are going together,
my dear brother.

Together we'll confront
Mr Nathaniel Briggs

and see just how brave he is

without this behind him.

Thank you.

(CLEARS THROAT)

(CLEARS THROAT)

Oh, Nat, there you are.
Have you been avoiding us?

Nay.

But I've been advised
to say nowt
about the solicitor's letter.

Oh, that's very wise.

I take it she's off her grub,
is she?

Well, she's eating nowt.

Any of your
other stags affected?

What are you
getting at, Farnon?

She's sick.
I want to find out
why she's sick.

There's no reason I know.

Yes, very high.
She's got pneumonia.

She's going to need
antibiotics, I'm afraid.

Well, I'm not having him
do it.

Very well. I will administer
the injection myself.

Thank you, Tristan.

Oh, dear.

There's a little lesson
for you to remember

until you're absolutely ready
for the injection.

Keep the needle
well out of the way.

(SCREAMS)

That's done it again,
you beggar!

Just tried to kill me.

(MEN LAUGHING)

NAT: I'll get
bloody pneumonia now.

Oh! Hasn't that done
enough damage already?

(LAUGHING)
To this side this time, Nats.

(LAUGHING)
Just levelling up,
weren't you, Veterinary?

-One on each cheek.
-(MEN LAUGHING)

-SIEGFRIED: Nat...
-Just stay away
from me, Farnon.

-Nat, it won't hurt you.
-It hurts already.

Now, just get away!

Siegfried.

Siegfried!

NAT: I'll do...double
the damages.

I'll break thee.

(LAUGHING)

Discretion, Siegfried,
is the better part of...

You better give me
the car keys.

In you get, Siegfried.

Quickly!

A toast to La belle Helene.

-La belle Helene.
-Thank you.

-Helen.
-Mrs Herriot.

Happy birthday, darling.

-Now, I want you to meet
Mr Edwards.
-Oh, yes.

Mmm, come on.

SIEGFRIED:
Come on, Mrs Herriot.

All right, darling,
eyes tight shut.

JAMES: To your left, gently.

-It's a bit to your right.
Tiny bit, that's it.
-Oh, James.

Oh, careful. Turn around.

Stop. Open them.

-(LAUGHS)
-James!

And this is Mr Edwards.

-JAMES: Mr Edwards.
-How do you do, Mrs Herriot?

-How do you do,
Mr Edwards?
-Many happy returns.

Thank you. How's Ellie?

Oh, champion!

I'm delighted to hear it.

Oh, Mr Edwards,
you've made it beautifully.

It's nothing to do with me.

Mr Herriot,
he was the labourer.

Come on, Mr Edwards.

I couldn't have done any of it
without his advice
morning, noon and night.

James.

-You clever old thing.
It's perfect.
-Oh, thanks.

And thank you, Mr Edwards.

It's just a matter of...

-BOTH: ...knowing how
to do it.
-(LAUGHING)

-(KNOCK ON DOOR)
-Lovely.

-What about that?
I didn't guess for a minute.
-What do you think, Siegfried?

-JAMES: I know.
-(HELEN LAUGHING)

That's great, isn't it?

JAMES: Hello.

Mrs Briggs. Nat.

I'm sorry, Auntie.
Have we called
at a bad time?

Oh, I'm sure
you'll be very welcome,
won't they, Mr Farnon?

Well, naturally.
Would you like...

Nat, Mrs Briggs,
I'd like to
take this opportunity...

-NAT: No, wait on.
-...on behalf of my brother...

Hold on, I've got
something to say.

We've come to apologise.

-I have an announcement
to make.
-We have.

NAT: We, aye.

Oh, go on, slow coach.

Well, the fact is

we're expecting.

A baby?

-Twins.
-(GASPS) Twins?

SIEGFRIED: I don't believe it.

Tristan, get some glasses
at once.

-Unexpected thing. Now, there.
-Yes, it's lovely.

Raise your glasses.
I'm sorry they aren't quite
the right kind of glasses

but if you don't mind,
it's best...
There.

-To the twins.
-ALL: To the twins.

Ah, well, that second shot
you gave me

must have been the antidote,
eh, Mr Farnon?

You took your blood time,
though, didn't you?

(LAUGHS) Sorry about that.

Twins? I mean,
they're worth waiting for,
aren't they?

NAT: Done my work, mind.

You'll not take
all the credit for this.

No, we had our part
to play, too.

Aye, that we did.

Well, Barbara, it's
just a matter of knowing
how to do it, isn't it?