Every Living Thing by James Herriot Read Free Book Online

variety of veterinary practice.

Chapter 5
    “L OOK AT THIS, H ELEN!” I cried as I pulled off the brown paper back in Skeldale House. “Mrs. Pumphrey’s given me a suit!”
    My wife gasped as my new acquisition was unveiled. “It’s beautiful, Jim. So expensive-looking!”
    “Isn’t it just. I could never afford one like this.”
    We looked down at the sumptuous tweed with its faint, scarcely discernible pattern of brownish threads among the Lovat green and Helen held up the jacket to examine it more closely.
    “Gosh, it’s so thick and heavy, I can hardly lift it! I’ve never seen such cloth—you’ll never feel cold wearing this. Aren’t you going to try it on? There’s time before lunch—I’ll just pop through to the kitchen and see that nothing’s boiling over.”
    I hurried to our bedroom and, bubbling with anticipation, removed my trousers and pulled on the new ones, then I donned the jacket and looked in the mirror. I really didn’t have to look—I realised from the start that my hopes were dashed. The trousers rested in concertina-like folds round my ankles while the jacket sleeves hung several inches below my hands. The late Mr. Pumphrey hadn’t just been large, he must have been a giant.
    I was observing myself sadly when I heard muffled sounds from the doorway. Helen was leaning against the wall laughing helplessly as she pointed a shaking finger in my direction. “Oh, dear,” she gasped. “I’m sorry, but oh, ha-ha-ha!”
    “Okay,” I said. “I know, I know, it’s a washout.” Then I caught sight of myself again in the mirror and couldn’t fight back a wry smile. “You’re right, I do look funny, but what a disappointment. It’s such a marvellous suit—I thought I was going to be Darrowby’s best-dressed man. What the heck are we going to do with the thing?”
    Helen dried her eyes and came over to me. “Oh, it’s such a shame, but wait a minute.” She tucked the sleeves up till my hands were revealed, then knelt and rolled up a few folds of trousers. She stood back to view the result. “Do you know, I really think it could be altered to fit you.”
    “Oh, come on, it’s unthinkable. I’m drowned in it.” I glowered again at my reflection.
    My wife shook her head vigorously. “I’m not so sure. Looking at you now, I can just imagine how splendid it could be. Anyway, I’m going to take it round to Mr. Bendelow and see if I can sweetheart him into doing it quickly.”
    I grinned at the thought of our local tailor stirring himself. “That would be a miracle.”
    “You never know,” Helen said. “I’m going to try, anyway.”
    Later that day she came to me with the news that Mr. Bendelow had been so dazzled by the quality of the material and the cut that he had promised a rush job.
    The excitement over the suit was forgotten as I had an urgent call immediately after lunch.
    Ted Newcombe’s voice on the phone was strained and shaking. “It’s Clover—she’s on calvin’ and there’s just a head and nowt else. I’ve had a go, but I can’t reach the legs—it’s ? whopper of a calf. And it’s the one I badly want—you remember?”
    “Yes, I do remember, of course.”
    “Can you get ’ere quick, Mr. Herriot?”
    “I’m leaving now.”
    Clover was his best heifer and had been served by a premium bull. To a hill-farmer like Ted it would be a disaster if he lost the calf. I shouted to Helen and ran out to the car.
    Ted’s smallholding was a grey smudge high on a hillside near the top of the dale. There was no road to it and my car bumped its way up the grassy slope with my drugs and instruments rattling and clinking behind me. The flagged yard and thick-walled buildings were hundreds of years old; in fact, coupled with its inaccessibility it was the sort of place where only hard-up people like Ted would dream of trying to make a living. The rent was low and it was all he could afford. He was coming out of the byre as I drew up. Ted was tall and thin, about