♪ From Mayfair to Park Lane
♪ You will hear the same refrain
♪ In every house again, again
You rang, m'lord?
♪ Stepping out on the town
♪ The social whirl goes round and round
♪ The rich are up, the poor are down
You rang, m'lord?
♪ The bunny hug at the Shim-Sham Club
♪ The Charleston at the Ritz
♪ And at the Troc, do the turkey trot
♪ They give Aunt Maud a thousand fits
♪ Saucy flappers in cloche hats
♪ Natty chappies in white spats
♪ The upper set is going bats
You rang, m'lord?
(Parrot squawks )
Oh, shut up. Come in.
(Parrot squawks )
Oh... How's Captain, Lady Lavender?
No better, I'm afraid. Have you got everything?
Yes, there's the thermometer, the parrot book from Boot's Library,
and some Bob Martin's Condition Powder.
It says on the packet it's for dogs.
Well, he barked this morning.
He could be sickening for distemper.
How will you get it down his throat?
Make a cocktail. A jigger of gin, half a jigger of Cointreau and a squeeze of lemon.
Give me the thermometer. I'll take his temperature.
If you put it under his tongue, won't he bite the end off?
- That's what I want the parrot book for. - Oh...
Well, maybe he's not really ill.
He could be pining because you sent his friend back to Harrods.
Oh, I don't think so. He was such a boring parrot.
Just sat on his perch all day, ate peanuts and never said a word.
Ah, here we are!
Taking a parrot's temperature.
Hold the bird firmly and insert the thermometer...
Oh, dear.
Probably hasn't got a temperature at all.
I put the stuff in. Now what do I do?
Add the Bob Martin's and give it a good shake.
He's quite an old parrot.
During the Indian Mutiny, he was at the Siege of Lucknow.
He was very lucky to survive.
The Siege finished on Thursday and he was to have been lunch on Friday.
- Shall I give it to him? - Wait a minute.
A bit sweet.
Mmm! That's better.
Here.
- Cheers, Captain. - Don't give him the glass. He'll only eat it.
Pour it into his tin.
Now, look. There you are, Captain.
- (Parrot coos ) - Oh, he likes it.
Oh! Don't drink too much.
He's very fond of his gin.
- I understand it was the ruin of his mother. - (Squawks )
Oh, I think he's had enough.
- Is he all right? - Yes. He's always like that after a skinful.
Right... I bought Teddy's ticket and the boat sails in three weeks.
Poor Uncle Teddy. I think you're being very cruel, Daddy.
Isn't there anywhere else? Malaya's the other side of the world.
The further away, the better. Madge Cartwright is devastated.
He's ruined her life. I told him what would happen if he didn't marry her.
- I'm not giving in. - She's the one that called the wedding off!
Teddy was behind it all. Mark my words.
Poor Madge, she was potty about him.
So were those five servant girls.
You can't blame Uncle Teddy. It was that bonk on the head he got during the war.
Look, if everyone that got bonked on the head during the war
got their housemaids into trouble, where would it all end?
Too many people use the war as an excuse.
Well, it got you off the hook with Ralph Shawcross.
Or he wouldn't allow you to smooch around with his wife.
I can't believe he thinks you're harmless because you were shot in the artillery.
Lady Agatha would soon drop him if it were true.
Girls, please. I will not have this sort of talk.
It's about time both of you were married.
I don't follow the logic of this argument.
We have to get married because you're having an affair with Agatha Shawcross.
I thought at your age, Daddy, people didn't bother.
I will not be spoken to like this in my own house.
Leave the room. At once.
You've never seen anything like it, Constable.
The stuff that arrived for Mr Teddy from the Army & Navy Stores this morning.
Portable basin.
Portable bath.
Portable bed.
Well, he needs it.
It's very primitive out east.
That's why he's taken the portable you-know-what.
- Well, at least he'll have a lot of servants. - Mr Teddy will be up to his old tricks again.
The girls out there wear grass skirts.
They don't have grass in Malaya.
- That's in Tahiti. - What do they have, then?
Coconuts.
Well, they come in handy.
Henry!
I've shown the tailor, Mr Dobson, to Mr Teddy's room.
What's this tailor come round for?
He has to have special clothes. He can't wear plus-fours in the jungle.
If he's getting rid of his English clothes, my old man could do with a suit.
The one he's got is out in the elbows.
How does he manage that when he's flat on his back all the time?
They got a very rough counter at the Red Lion.
Your master is taking rather a long time.
- Do you think he's all right? - I'll see.
- Do you require any assistance, sir? - (Teddy ) No, thanks.
- Blast these damned tin buttons. - Why do you use tin buttons?
The bone variety tend to deteriorate in extremes of temperature.
Won't the tin ones rust?
The native servants burnish them as a matter of course.
Hmm! Typical imperialist exploitation.
If I may venture to suggest, gentlemen,
it is customary to tuck the mosquito net under the palliasse.
Otherwise, the little devils tend to sneak under.
- What do you think? - Very dignified, sir.
Yes, sir... Very dignified.
I hate beige. Is this the only colour you've got?
Yes, I'm afraid so, sir.
It's not done for gentlemen to wear colours in the jungle, sir.
It tends to get the monkeys excited.
These shorts are absurd. Can't you take them up a bit?
Short shorts are not being worn this year, sir.
You could always hitch them up a little, sir.
I wouldn't recommend that in a hot climate, sir.
It promotes chafing.
It's bally well promoting it now.
- These boots are agony. - They are waterproof, sir.
- And leech-proof, sir. - Oh, how disgusting!
I read that if they attach themselves to your person,
they soon let go if you apply a lighted cigarette, sir.
That's if you can get any cigarettes.
- Would you like to try your gaiters, sir? - What are they for?
Pythons, sir.
How many more bally animals do I have to contend with?
Only mosquitoes, sir. But they shouldn't do you any harm.
At sundown, you wear long trousers and drop this net over your face.
And you tuck the loose ends into your shirt, sir.
There.
What must I look like?
My God, I'm behind bars.
Thank you, sir.
You think this is very funny, don't you, Stokes? It's all your fault.
You can hardly blame me if your brother insists on sending you to Malaya, sir.
Anyhow, the boat doesn't sail for three weeks.
- We can think of something. - You'd better think of something.
If I am on that boat, you'll be queuing up at the labour exchange.
Trust me, sir. Meanwhile, I suggest you go along with things.
Just to keep your brother happy. He's spent a lot of money on this equipment.
- Are you ready to try this, sir? - What on earth is it?
- Your camp-bed, sir. - What's that contraption over the top?
- Your mosquito net. - Do you mean I have to sleep under that?
It's for your own protection.
Mosquitoes carry malaria, yellow fever, sleeping sickness and dysentery.
- All very nasty. - My God!
I could die just getting into my pyjamas.
We advise gentlemen to always get into their mosquito nets fully clothed, sir,
then remove their garments, hand them out to the bearer,
who will then hand you your pyjamas.
First having shaken them to remove tarantulas.
If I pull the net back to hand out the clothes, a mosquito could get in.
You have to be very quick, sir.
It's simple once you get used to it. Why not try it?
I shall do nothing of the sort.
I think it would be advisable to try it here, sir.
- On a nice, dry floor... - And no mosquitoes.
Or bats.
- Perhaps you're right. - Excuse me, sir, your cigarette.
You don't want to burn holes in the net, do you, sir?
How do I get in?
Sit on the edge of the bed with a bearer on either side.
Perhaps you two gentlemen would oblige.
One must be very quick, sir. Are you ready? Now!
You ruffled my bally hair!
Now for the legs. Whip the net up, whip the legs in and whip the net down again.
Remember, speed is the essence. Those little devils are always ready to bite.
Now!
Butter, soup, fish, meat course and pudding.
There's an awful lot of people coming to dinner tonight.
I love big dinner parties. Would you like to wait on table, Henry?
Yeah, but they wouldn't let me. I'm too short and fat.
I wish I was tall and well-built and good-looking. Like James.
- It's his birthday on Wednesday. - Is it?
- Are you going to buy him a present? - Why should I?
- Then he'd buy you a present on your birthday. - I don't have birthdays, I'm an orphan.
Oh, Henry, I'm sorry.
I'll tell you what, we'll make one up for you. When do you want it?
- Tomorrow. - That's too quick.
- All right, next week. - You can have a whole week of birthdays.
Henry's Regatta!
- What would you like? - Could you manage a kiss?
Oh, Henry, give over.
- I'll think about it. - I expect you'd like to give James a kiss.
Stop it, Henry.
- Are you gonna buy him something? - Yes.
- What? - Promise you won't tell.
- I promise. - Well, when I had me afternoon off,
I was looking in a pawn-shop window and I saw these lovely cufflinks.
The man in the shop said they were real pewter.
- How much were they? - Five shillings.
(Whistles ) Five shillings? They want to be real pewter for that price.
Anyhow, I left a shilling deposit. I'll draw the rest out of the post office tomorrow.
Oh, I can't wait to see James's face when I give them to him.
- Haven't you finished laying this table yet? - Nearly, Mr Twelvetrees.
Yes. Looks quite good.
Apart from one thing.
- What's that? - Henry, get the ruler out of the drawer.
Yes, Mr Twelvetrees.
Oh, yes.
Oh, yes indeed.
(Tuts )
Oh, yes.
How many times have you been told that the cutlery
should always be one inch from the edge of the table, Ivy?
- Sorry, Mr Twelvetrees. - It's no good being sorry.
Look at this. An inch and a quarter.
An inch and a half.
And look at this, nearly two inches!
Not two inches, Mr Twelvetrees!
Yes, Henry, nearly two whole inches.
Supposing I hadn't checked and the Earl had sat down
and saw that his fish knife was nearly two inches from the edge of the table?
I mean, think of the disgrace.
Well, we'll say no more about it. Just put it right.
Isn't he wonderful, Henry?
(Chatter)
(Distant chatter)
Oh, er... Henry, hurry up.
Get those dirty dishes out of the lift.
Yes, Mrs Lipton.
You're getting very fat, Henry.
If you get too big for those clothes, we'll have to find someone else for your job.
His lordship won't pay for another uniform.
I've got some more plates for you, Mabel.
Will they never stop?
You want some more soda in the water?
Yeah, put it in.
What's it matter if me hands are red-raw and all cracked?
It's worth it. Just so long as they can have nice, shiny dishes.
They must've been hungry.
They've eaten the chop bones.
No, I put them on the side for you.
- You can make soup out of them. - Oh, that'll be nice.
Look, they ain't been chewed.
Well, posh people don't , do they?
(Posh voice ) They cut the meat off delicately with their knives.
(Mrs Lipton ) Henry! What's happened to those chop bones?
I promised them to Constable Wilson for his dog.
I've got them here, Mrs Lipton.
Bad luck, Mabel.
- They've nearly finished their pudding. - Good. Coffee's nearly ready.
How's the funny old Earl enjoying his food?
Oh, he loves it. He keeps going on about your sticky toffee pudding.
I'm glad he's enjoying my cooking. What's he like?
They're a funny family. His son just sits there grinning all the time.
His son's wife's like a little mouse, hardly says anything at all.
Except when James serves her. Then she goes all red.
(Laughs ) All the girls love our James, don't they?
- Yes, they do. - Well, there's the coffee.
Go up and see if Lady Lavender's finished.
Yes, Mrs Lipton.
A little more sticky toffee pudding, Lady Marigold?
You are looking after me nicely. It was delicious but I couldn't eat another thing.
Excellent cook you've got. Where did you get her?
She's been with the family since Teddy was a little boy.
She used to bounce Uncle Teddy on her knee, didn't she, Uncle Teddy?
- Don't remember. - I like a good, plain cook.
- Oh, she's that, all right. - Can't stand mucked-about food.
I like straight grub. Of course, Dudley here likes all that frog grub.
What's wrong with that, Father? You can't beat a delicate combination of flavours.
- Did you develop a taste for it in the war? - No, they wouldn't let me join up.
What did you do during the war, then?
I ran one of Father's factories that made tinned stew.
It smelled absolutely terrible, but the chaps in the trenches lapped it up.
I expect it made a change from bully beef.
What is bully beef? Sounds awful.
Did you have it when you were in the artillery, George?
Agatha, George doesn't want to talk about what happened in the artillery.
- Coffee's ready. - Excuse me, sir.
Ivy is ready to serve coffee in the drawing room.
Shall we leave the gentlemen to their port and cigars?
- Excuse me, Mr Twelvetrees... - Not now, Ivy.
- Thank you, James. - Isn't he tall, Poppy?
Yes, he is.
Thank you, James.
You're very popular tonight, James.
The port.
I'm afraid I've got bad news. Lady Lavender's parrot's died.
I'll inform his lordship.
Excuse me, sir. I regret to inform you that Lady Lavender's parrot has passed on.
Oh, dear! How did it happen, Ivy?
Well, it just went, argh...
and fell off its perch.
Tell Miss Poppy to look after Lady Lavender.
- I'll come up immediately. - Yes, m'lord.
Oh, and could she have a large brandy?
Oh, and the funeral's on Thursday.
Very sad. Lavender's parrot has just died.
It went " ah" and fell off its perch.
- Happens to us all. - Well, not like that, I hope.
What are you hovering for? Sit down, Dudley.
- I want to wash my hands. - Wants to wash his hands.
- James will show you where it is. - This way, sir.
- My son's a delicate boy. Always was. - Has he got a weak bladder?
- Weak everything. - Charming girl, Marigold.
- Been married long? - Six years.
- Any kids? - No.
He's my only son. That's what worries me.
Could be the end of the house of Swaffham.
- Have you had the girl looked at? - She's sound enough.
You're talking about her as if she were a racehorse.
- One must be practical in these things. - Have you had your son looked at?
Oh, yes. Several times.
- He's the problem, I'm afraid. - How do you know?
They look at things through microscopes these days.
- Too much inbreeding. - Not enough chorus girls.
- Or ladies' maids! - Too late for that now.
Pity they can't put those girls out to stud. Some strapping young fellow.
Good yeoman stock, 50-guinea fee, and Bob's your uncle.
I say, steady on, Ralph. You're going a bit far.
No, he's talking sense.
The aristocracy should have handed it over to horse breeders years ago.
Sorry to have been such a long time. I...
I got lost.
There's no doubt about it. Most men are an absolute wash-out.
That just depends on the laundry, darling.
They shouldn't shrink if you look after them.
- I've never had any trouble. - Ralph's your third husband, isn't he?
Yes, but I've never wanted children.
They clutter the place up so.
Oh, I'd love a little baby.
They smell so gorgeous.
Not at 3:00 in the morning.
- Couldn't you adopt one? - I haven't given up hope yet.
I'm sure we will be blessed with a little stranger one day.
Anyhow, next week, Dudley and I are going to spend
some time at the family castle in Scotland.
He's going to take two cold showers a day and wear a kilt.
That sounds a bit drastic.
Er... Lady Marigold, have you tried Mrs Lipton's homemade marzipan?
Oh, thank you.
- I think the Earl enjoyed himself. - Yes, sir, excellent dinner party.
Very sad about Lady Lavender's parrot. How is she?
Miss Poppy gave her a sleeping pill, sir.
And the body is now lying in state in the larder.
I feel sorry for the Earl. 400 years, that family's been going.
They survived Cromwell but they won't survive Dudley.
It's tragic to see a noble family like that wither away,
when one little baby could save it for posterity.
Yes, very sad.
I thought the Earl took Sir Ralph's flippant remark about the stud farm very well, sir.
- Were you there then? - Indeed, sir.
I thought it was in rather bad taste,
then the Earl is so anxious to have an heir, it's probably crossed his mind.
I'm surprised these things are not arranged discreetly, sir.
Perhaps they are. They don't publish them in The Times, though.
I'm sure the Earl would be most grateful if you could help him with this dilemma, sir.
- Are you suggesting that I...? - No, sir, not you personally.
But I'm sure when these things are done, they are done anonymously.
And I could find you an anonymous.
Let's get this straight. Are you saying what I think? Have you got somebody in mind?
Yes, sir.
- James. - Ach! That's absurd.
He's good peasant stock, discreet, attractive to the opposite sex.
- He'd never do it. - Every man has his price, sir.
- That'll be all, Stokes. - Yes, sir.
I'm sorry, sir, it was only a suggestion. I trust I didn't cause offence.
I shall be seeing the Earl tomorrow. I shall see how the land lies.
- And you see how the land lies too, Stokes. - Sir.
Mrs Lipton, there's a dead parrot in the larder.
- Yes, I know. - You gonna do one of your curries?
He's awaiting Lady Lavender's instructions.
Oh, I see.
Well, I'll be off now.
- Could I have my money, please? - It's on the dresser.
15 hours. That's three and nine.
Oh, I am doing well.
Thanks...
- Making a nice cup of cocoa, are you? - Yes, Mabel.
Very comforting before you go to bed.
Cream off the top of the milk.
Plenty of sugar.
Very soothing.
Especially if you have to go through the cold streets.
I can't remember the last time I had a nice cup of cocoa.
I've got something for you, Mabel, that'll keep you warm.
- Oh, thanks. - That old hat of mine.
I got it from the back of the wardrobe. I brought it down for you.
- It'll keep your head warm. - That'll be nice...
Moth had been at it, I'm afraid.
Never mind. They haven't eaten much.
Haven't you got a small head, Mabel?
Evening.
Hello. Going to Ascot, are you?
Haven't you got a small head, Mabel?
- Put some newspapers in it. - I will. The Star News and Standard!
Have you got any bicarbonate of soda, Mrs Lipton?
- There's some in the pantry. Get it, Mabel. - Yes, Mrs Lipton.
- Got an upset stomach, Constable? - My fault entirely.
Mrs Fortescue at No. 26 was doing stew and dumplings.
Oh, she never could handle dumplings!
Don't I know it? I'm a fool to myself.
Still, I didn't want to disappoint her.
Do you know, they are lying there like a lump of lead on my stomach.
- I don't know what she does. - One thing about your dumplings,
they don't lie on my stomach.
- Here you are, Constable. - Oh, ta.
Oh... Ah...
That shifted it.
That's the breakfast laid. Oh, Mabel. Be here in plenty of time in the morning.
The drawing-room grate wants a blacking.
Yes, Mr Twelvetrees.
- Good night, all. - (All) Good night.
Would you see me to the corner, Constable?
I've got a whole day's wages in my purse.
That's three shillings and ninepence!
Come on, then, Mabel. (Belches )
That's better out than in. Good night, everyone.
- Good night, Constable. - Good night.
The cocoa's here if you want to make yourself a cup, Ivy.
- Thanks, Mrs Lipton. - I'll take mine up to my room.
- Good night, then. - Good night, Mrs Lipton.
- Er, are you going to have a cup? - Yes, please, Ivy.
Are you looking forward to your birthday?
Oh, no, birthdays are of no consequence to me.
- Are you going to ask for the day off? - Certainly not.
My birthday is of no interest to his lordship.
- Did he buy you a present last year? - Where do you get your ideas from, Ivy?
Employers do not give their servants presents.
Well, they should do. Did you get any presents from the servants last year?
No, we don't encourage that sort of thing.
If we all bought each other presents, where would it all end?
- Don't you have a cake, or anything? - No, no.
His lordship's tucked up in bed.
And it's time you were off, Ivy.
I'm just going.
- Here's your cocoa, Mr Twelvetrees. - Thank you, Ivy.
- Good night, then. - Good night.
Good night, Dad.
Good night, Ivy.
A drop of brandy would go down well with that cocoa.
Oh, silly me, I forgot. You never touch his lordship's brandy.
You're a man of very high principles, James.
- I try to be, yes. - And I admire you for it.
Cheers.
Oh, his lordship asked me to tell you he was very pleased with the dinner party.
What a delightful gentleman the Earl is.
No side at all.
Just like an ordinary person.
Yes, indeed.
And what a charming family. I looked them up.
Do you know the line goes right back to Elizabethan times?
Ah, yes, that's the tragedy.
They've come to the end of the line.
While you were out showing Dudley where the WC was,
that Earl was practically in tears.
His son Dudley doesn't function properly.
- What do you mean? - They've had him looked at.
Under a microscope!
- Do you mean to say...? - He can't give the Earl an heir.
So after all these years, the house of Swaffham will cease to exist.
Yes. A piece of English history is fading before our eyes.
What a terrible blow for the Earl.
Hmm.
Anyhow, his lordship was saying that he'd like to help him.
How on earth could he do that?
The aristocrats are used to... arranging these things.
- They bring in fresh stock. - I don't believe it!
It's a fact. They have to. It's all the inbreeding.
Look at that Russian royal family.
All bleeders.
Haemophiliacs.
Anyhow...
The Earl wants somebody to do the necessary.
- With Lady Marigold. - That's outrageous!
Yes, and...
They were thinking of you.
It's nothing to do with me, it's his lordship's idea!
You owe it to history, James.
I shall go upstairs at once and tell his lordship I want no part in it.
- He's in bed. - I shall tell him first thing in the morning.
Don't rush into it. Think of the money.
Properly handled, this could set you up for life.
And I suppose you would handle it!
You and I go back a long way, James, and his lordship trusts me.
It could be a glorious future for you.
There must be other great families dying out.
You'd be doing the nation a service.
Saving the aristocracy. It could go on and on and on.
You'd have to be careful, of course.
- You'd have to keep a record. - Get out of my way!
James!
Come in, Teddy. We've got a problem with Lavender.
Oh, poor old Lavvy.
She wants to give her parrot a funeral this afternoon in the pet cemetery.
- A military funeral. - With all the trimmings.
- She's batty. - Not in the eyes of the law.
She's an extremely wealthy woman and we are her sole dependents.
- So we jolly well don't want to upset her. - You don't worry about upsetting me.
I'm a doormat. I can be sent off to Malaya with mosquitoes and tigers.
Lavender has been up half the night writing out how she wants the funeral done.
Ring the bell, would you, Poppy? I want to explain it all to the servants.
Daddy, this is bizarre. Not only that, it's very undignified.
Dignity has got nothing to do with it.
When it comes to the sort of money Lavender's got,
rather than risk losing it, I'd go to the House of Lords dressed in a monkey skin.
I don't suppose anybody would notice.
(Groaning)
- Where do you want the harmonium? - Over here.
Right. Lift.
It ain't half heavy.
(Stammering) It's f-far h-heavier
than...the one w-we shifted a-at the church hall.
You've put weight on since you last wore that uniform.
Mind your own business.
Hey. Did you speak to his lordship this morning?
- Not yet. - You'll be making a big mistake if you refuse.
When Ivy was serving coffee last night,
she heard Marigold say how tall, good-looking and well-built you are.
- Really? - Even the Earl said it.
Everybody's saying it.
- Dad! - What is it, Ivy?
- I can't get out. - Pull the handle.
It's come off.
Oh, Dad!
That gardener doesn't look after his motorbike, you know.
You don't look after your motorbike!
Hey! It's a f-first-class bike.
Keep your voice down. You're on hallowed ground.
Sorry, Mr Twelvetrees.
And that helmet and those goggles are not very seemly.
I've got me black hat.
Mrs Fortescue at No. 26 saw us as we left the house.
- Whatever will she say? - That the parrot ate her dumplings.
Come with me, I'll show you where to stand.
Your harmonium is over there by the grave, Mabel.
I hope I'm up to it.
All that soda in the washing-up water has ruined my touch.
You look a fool in that hat, Henry.
Why didn't you wear your Boys' Brigade uniform?
You never said nothing about me wearing my Boys' Brigade uniform.
How are you supposed to blow bugles and play drums without your uniform?
Go and stand over there by the harmonium.
Is that far enough, Mr Twelvetrees?
That's fine, Rupert.
All present and correct, sir.
James, you look so handsome in your uniform.
- Thank you, miss. - We won't be getting out. We're staying here.
Very well, miss.
Just follow the instructions. Lady Lavender's written it all down.
- Is there one for us, Mr Stokes? - No.
Well, we'll j-just h-have to stand here...
and look...and look s-solemn.
- Can she see through that? - I can see perfectly.
And I can hear.
It's like the one you're taking with you to Malaya.
Shut up.
Burial party!
Slow...march!
- ( # Harmonium ) - # Shoulder to shoulder
# Steadily, blade by blade...
Just fancy if after all this palaver,
Lavender leaves her money to a home for retired parrots.
Grandma was so upset.
I really should be there to support her.
Well, don't turn on the waterworks, just go.
Not in these shoes.
# Marching along like the birds of the old brigade
(Wails) # Brigade! #
Shh!
We are here to say farewell to a brave parrot.
Captain.
Citation.
1854, Crimea War.
Present at the Charge of the Light Brigade. In a cardigan.
With Cardigan!
1857, Indian Mutiny.
Siege of Lucknow.
1879, Zulu War. Rorke's Drift.
1900, Boer War. Relief of Ladysmith.
And let us not forget, on active service in 1917,
he was captured by the Germans,
but refused to talk in spite of having his feathers removed
one by one.
End of citation.
Since time immemorial, it has been the custom
for a hero to have his favoured possession placed in his coffin.
Open the coffin, please.
Captain always loved my diamonds.
My bracelet.
Stop her, George. Those things must be worth a fortune!
I can't now. I'll think of something.
She's potty, Mrs Lipton. What a terrible waste.
If I was a-a-a p-parrot, I'd prefer...sunflower s-seeds.
Draw...
swords!
( # Last Post)
The guns.
Ivy, the guns.
- What guns? - The guns!
- You never said anything about guns. - Pearson.
- Mr Pearson, the guns. - Oh, yes, of course.
- Hurry up. - Here's your f-firearms.
Present.
Salute! Salute!
- (Birds squawk) - Didn't miss them by much.
Frightened them, though.
What are you staring at?
And now, as we consign this brave parrot to Mother Earth,
we shall listen to his favourite song.
( # Plays )
- What about the jewellery? - Don't worry.
# Over the quiet hills Softly the shadows fall...
What's she throwing in?
S-sunflower seeds.
# Sinks in the dreaming west
# Birdsongs at eventide
# Call me
♪ Call me to rest ♪
(Flat spitting)
His...his warbler's f-failed.
(Bird whistle )
- Is the coffee ready yet, Mrs Lipton? - I'm making it now, Ivy.
Here's your shovel, Mr Stokes.
Aren't you nervous going to a graveyard at night and digging up a coffin?
- It's a pet cemetery, Ivy. - There might be ghosts.
Great, big dogs like the Hounds of the Baskervilles.
With dripping fangs!
- How are you going to get there? - His lordship is lending us his Rolls.
A list of the jewellery, to make sure nothing goes missing.
I can assure you, James, that nothing will go missing.
Here's Constable Wilson, come for his nightcap.
- Won't he stop you? - Grave-robbing's against the law.
I'll make sure his lordship looks after him, the same as the rest of us.
- Hello, where are you off to? - The cemetery.
To recover Lady Lavender's jewellery.
You're too late. The station sergeant and I dug it up and took it into safe custody.
I'm coming round tomorrow to collect the reward.
I think you'll find it's all there, sir.
I'll return them to her as soon as she calms down.
We had to humour her. Old age is so sad, Stokes.
- Indeed, sir. - Now, I'm going to put £4 in here.
- For the Police Fund. - Don't bother, sir. I'll seal it.
And we'd better give the staff a little extra in their wages.
One, two, three, four. You can deal with that, can't you?
Certainly, sir.
Then there's the little matter of the harmonium.
- Mr Pearson and the gardener, Rupert. - Oh...what do you think?
- £2? - Well, he did bring the van, sir.
Better make it three.
Three. There we are.
Thank you, sir.
Did you speak to him about preserving the house of Swaffham?
Not yet. I can't get him alone. But the answer is no.
Well, he's alone now. James, don't be too rash.
Keep an open mind until you've heard what his lordship has to say.
(Chuckles )
- Your afternoon tea, sir. - Good, I'm dying for a cup.
Many happy returns of the day.
Oh, thank you, sir, I didn't think anyone knew.
Ivy told us at breakfast.
Erm... May I have a word with you, sir, regarding the Earl of Swaffham?
- Hmm? - The Earl of Swaffham.
I'd like to make my attitude quite clear.
Yes, well, I did mention it to him. Casually, of course.
Mind you, we were all a bit merry that night
and perhaps the conversation went further than it should have.
Anyway, the Earl said your eyes are too close together.
Tell the girls tea is ready.
Yes, sir.
- James. - Yes, sir?
Nice of you to volunteer.
What are you doing, James?
Nothing, Miss Poppy. Tea is being served in the study.
Come in here.
- Which hand do you want? - I beg your pardon?
Choose. Like you did for me when I was a girl with sweets.
Oh...
The right.
Many happy returns.
- How did you know? - Little bird told me.
Miss Poppy, I don't know what to say.
Open it.
Cufflinks. Oh, Miss Poppy, they're beautiful.
Yes, they are, rather. 18-carat gold.
- They're real pewter, Henry. - Very nice, Ivy. James will be pleased.
Hurry up, Ivy. He'll be down in a minute.
- Get the cake out of the pantry, Mabel. - Yes, Mrs Lipton.
Two pounds! I thought his lordship would be more generous than that.
It's a disgrace. That's the aristocracy for you.
I knew what it'd be like. That's why I made his lordship seal the envelope.
Oh!
- There we are. - I think he's coming.
- Quick, light the candles. - It's a lovely cake, Mrs Lipton.
Thank you, Ivy.
I hope you haven't put a lot of candied peel in there. I can't stand it.
Just currants, raisins and sultanas,
the way you like it.
I can't remember the last time I had a nice bit of birthday cake.
He's here.
Happy birthday, Mr Twelvetrees!
I don't know what to say.
You see, they didn't forget you after all, Mr Twelvetrees.
What a wonderful surprise.
Look what Miss Poppy gave me. Look, they're solid gold.
(Mrs Lipton ) Oh, they're lovely!
Didn't you want to say something now, Ivy?
Ivy?
Yes. Erm...
- You've got to blow the candles out. - Oh, yes.
# For he's a jolly good fellow
# And so say all of us
# And so say all of us...
♪ From Mayfair to Park Lane
♪ You will hear the same refrain
♪ In every house again, again
You rang, m'lord?
♪ Stepping out on the town
♪ The social whirl goes round and round
♪ The rich are up, the poor are down
You rang, m'lord?
♪ The bunny hug at the Shim-Sham Club
♪ The Charleston at the Ritz
♪ And at the Troc, do the turkey trot
♪ They give Aunt Maud a thousand fits
♪ Talking flicks are here today
♪ And Lindbergh's from the USA
♪ Poor Valentino's passed away ♪
How sad, m'lord.