All Creatures Great and Small Read Online Free

she’s nobbut going on three cylinders.”
    “Three cylinders?”
    “Aye and if we don’t do summat she’ll go wrang in ’er ewer, won’t she?”
    “Very probably.”
    “Don’t want felon, do we?”
    “Certainly not.”
    “O.K., you’ll tell ’im, then. Ta-ta.”
    I returned thoughtfully to the sitting-room. It was disconcerting but I had listened to my first case history without understanding a word of it.
    I had hardly sat down when the bell rang again. This time I unleashed a frightening yell which froze the dogs when they were still in mid air; they took the point and returned, abashed, to their chairs.
    This time it was a solemn gentleman with a straightly adjusted cloth cap resting on his ears, a muffler knotted precisely over his Adam’s apple and a clay pipe growing from the exact centre of his mouth. He removed the pipe and spoke with a rich, unexpected accent.
    “Me name’s Mulligan and I want Misther Farnon to make up some midicine for me dog.”
    “Oh, what’s the trouble with your dog, Mr. Mulligan?”
    He raised a questioning eyebrow and put a hand to his ear. I tried again with a full blooded shout.
    “What’s the trouble?”
    He looked at me doubtfully for a moment. “He’s womitin’, sorr. Womitin’ bad.”
    I immediately felt on secure ground now and my brain began to seethe with diagnostic procedures. “How long after eating does he vomit?”
    The hand went to the ear again. “Phwhat’s that?”
    I leaned close to the side of his head, inflated my lungs and bawled: “When does he womit—I mean vomit?”
    Comprehension spread slowly across Mr. Mulligan’s face. He gave a gentle smile. “Oh aye, he’s womitin’. Womitin’ bad, sorr.”
    I didn’t feel up to another effort so I told him I would see to it and asked him to call later. He must have been able to lipread me because he seemed satisfied and walked away.
    Back in the sitting-room, I sank into a chair and poured a cup of tea. I had taken one sip when the bell rang again. This time, a wild glare from me was enough to make the dogs cower back in their chairs; I was relieved they had caught on so quickly.
    Outside the front door a lovely, red-haired girl was standing. She smiled, showing a lot of very white teeth.
    “Good afternoon,” she said in a loud, well-bred voice. “I am Diana Brompton. Mr. Farnon is expecting me for tea.”
    I gulped and clung to the door handle. “He’s asked YOU to tea?”
    The smile became fixed. “Yes, that is correct,” she said, spelling the words out carefully. “He asked me to tea.”
    “I’m afraid Mr. Farnon isn’t at home. I can’t say when he’ll be back.”
    The smile was plucked away. “Oh,” she said, and she got a lot into the word. “At any rate, perhaps I could come in.”
    “Oh, certainly, do come in. I’m sorry,” I babbled, suddenly conscious that I had been staring, open mouthed, at her.
    I held open the door and she brushed past me without a word. She knew her way about because, when I got to the first corner, she had disappeared into the room. I tiptoed past the door and broke into a gallop which took me along another thirty yards or so of twisting passage to a huge, stone-flagged kitchen. Mrs. Hall was pottering about there and I rushed at her.
    “There’s a young lady here, a Miss Brompton. She’s come to tea, too.” I had to fight an impulse to pluck at her sleeve.
    Mrs. Hall’s face was expressionless. I thought she might have started to wave her arms about, but she didn’t even seem surprised.
    “You go through and talk to her and I’ll bring a few more cakes,” she said.
    “But what the heck am I going to talk to her about? How long is Mr. Farnon going to be?”
    “Oh, just chat to her for a bit. I shouldn’t think he’ll be very long,” she said calmly.
    Slowly, I made my way back to the sitting-room and when I opened the door the girl turned quickly with the makings of another big smile. She made no attempt to hide her disgust when