[music playing]
[chatter]
[music playing]
NARRATOR: Sometimes in
the very heart of London,
the persevering explorer will
stumble upon a quiet backwater,
recalling the days when the
busy capital was but a village.
Lambs Green, how
tranquilly rural it sounds.
[loud factory sounds]
The ponies and
traps, and the lambs
themselves may have been
displaced in the ruthless
march of progress.
But the modern
inhabitants are still,
to this day, a closely
knit community, sharing
week-by-week, their simple joys
and pleasures, bound together
in single-minded sympathy
by their sorrows,
and in their fond hopes.
Yes, Lambs Green
still has its green.
Of course, among modern
comforts and conveniences,
there is no longer merry
dancing round the Maypole.
But the village green still
attracts its visitors.
And there is still the same
warm welcome for the passerby.
And for the
villagers themselves,
each day begins with
a friendly greeting.
[bird squawks]
Morning, Soldier.
[monkey chatters]
Morning, Harry.
Morning, Joe.
Good morning, Sir.
Arthur Hill, widower, owner
of Lambs Green pet stores?
Yes.
Ooh, terrible smell in here.
Just my luck, can't
stand animals.
In that case, what
can I do for you, Sir?
It's all written down there.
Permission to enter said
premises and to seize all
that in them is, with the
exception of wearing apparel,
bedding, and the tools and
instruments of the judgment
to debtor.
Will you please
tell the person that
sent you that I pay my debts.
And there's no need
for this sort of thing.
[animals squawk]
I'm very glad to hear it, Sir.
I don't fancy staying here.
Staying here?
Don't be absurd, Man.
Come back later.
There's a good man.
Oh, my daughter--
come back later.
Please go.
Not without 34
pounds seven and eight.
Daddy, you're not
buying more animals?
No I'm not, not
buying any more animals.
Now run along, Darling.
Then what does
he want 34 pounds
seven and eight pence for?
I know.
It's what we did
owe James and Pike.
It's what you do owe them.
Daddy, you promised.
Horses again.
Will you take 16 schillings?
No, 15 and thruppence
on account.
Wait here.
[music playing]
Hm, horses, eh?
Would you mind minding
your own business?
All right, all right, no
need for unpleasantness.
I was only thinking that if
we could have lived together,
we might as well have
something in common.
[music playing]
Mind your step, Sweetheart,
always getting in the way.
What's up?
Goldfish on fire?
Ha.
[music playing]
Oh, good, I thought I
was going to miss you.
Well, mate, I though
I was going to hit you.
Bill, have you
got my money on you?
Yeah, what about it?
I want it.
What, now?
But what about your bike?
Please, Bill.
All right, mate,
it's your money.
Here we are, 15 and thruppence.
Here we are then.
[music playing]
Aye.
Some girls have all the luck.
[music playing]
Daddy, I've got--
[puppies whining]
[animals chattering]
Hm?
Nah.
Hm.
Ah.
Darby the Third, hm?
No, Irish Jig.
No, no, he's got a stare.
Montana Miss, now
there's a stare.
Don't make me
laugh, Montana Miss.
Daddy, I've got the money.
I wouldn't mind owning it.
She couldn't run a
race in 1,000 years.
Daddy, 15 and thruppence.
No, run along, Darling.
Run along.
We're busy.
And I want a receipt too.
I know, [inaudible].
Daddy, the money, look.
Hm?
Sue, how did you get that money?
It's mine.
I was saving it up
out of housekeeping.
I was going to buy a bicycle.
Oh, thank you, Darling.
You keep it.
One of these days I'll
buy you a spanking bike.
You see if I don't.
But, Daddy, what about the
bill from Jones and Pike?
Yes, what?
Well, Mr. Temple will very
kindly he's going to--
aren't you?
That's all right, Miss.
Don't you worry about that bill.
With your dad's knowledge
of horses and thanks
to my last client,
we'll have made
enough money by
this evening to buy
up the whole of Jones and Pike.
Daddy, you always
said betting was a mug--
mug's game.
Yes, I know, Darling.
But sometimes, sometimes you
find an absolute certainty.
Montana Miss?
Yeah.
Huh.
That's right, Montana Miss.
She could have won the
Derby on three legs.
But the owner knew
what he was doing.
He was saving her up especially
for the 2:30 this afternoon.
[chatter]
Montana Miss,
there's the winner.
Don't let's go over
all that again.
She's been beaten
twice by Irish Jig.
Oh, form isn't everything.
But I know a horse
when I see one.
Now look, you've won
us 35 pounds so far.
And this race is my tab.
Get the best price
you can on Irish Jig.
Oh, she's beautiful.
There's no such thing as
a certainly in racing.
I'd settle for her.
Here, five pounds,
put it on Irish Jig.
Irish Jig, all right.
And the man said she
could have the Derby,
but they were saving her
up till this afternoon.
How So you save a horse?
Oh, look at you, messy.
What was the name again?
Montana Miss.
Here it is.
It's in the 2:30.
Top of the tip packs--
I can always use a
bit of extra cash.
NEWSPAPER VENDOR: "Star
News," "Standard."
Hello, Gorgeous.
Hello.
Here, I've
finished with these.
Oh, ta, very much.
I can curl up with
these for hours.
I'm a terrible bookworm.
Here, why don't you
just have a bit of good?
Montana Miss, 2:30.
Hot tip straight from the owner.
Oh, thanks.
Yeah, it suits you,
that curly bang.
Oh, I don't know.
Suits you, that curly bang.
So what?
She gave me a good
tip, didn't she?
Huh, it'll go down.
Now, it's all right.
You got me through
the queue Monday.
Here, Montana Miss, 2:30.
Not on your life.
I'm telling you that, a
special girl across straight
from this table.
(SHOUTING) "Star
News" or "Standard."
15 bob on the nose
Montana Miss, 2:30.
Half a quid with Montana Miss.
I'll have a tenner
on Montana Miss.
Save it, Sonny, buy
yourself a lollipop.
(SHOUTING) Store
News or Standard.
Blimey, what is this?
(SHOUTING) Montana Miss--
"Star News" or "Standard."
"Standard."
20, Montana Miss.
20, Montana Miss.
How fast is the Irish Jig?
Irish Jig, four
pound for three, 125.
- That's 16.
- What?
Two pounds, Dickie Wig.
The bet's 16, Montana Miss.
The bet's 16 Montana Miss.
Montana Miss.
Bernie, do you still
want your paper?
Huh?
I'll give you a penny for it.
Done.
Montana Miss?
"Evening News."
Montana Miss?
Aye, aye, queue in all prices.
[laughter]
Bet [inaudible]
24 pound and six,
Dickie Wig, Dickie Wig.
24 pounds and six, Dickie Wig.
[inaudible]
20 pounds to five, Irish Jig.
20 pound to five,
Irish Jig, 122.
[inaudible] Montana Miss.
The bet 10, Montana Miss.
A bet 10, Montana Miss.
[inaudible]
- No, I won't.
I'm sorry.
50 pounds to five, Montana Miss.
Make your mind up, Governor.
Scrub that out and put a 50
pound to five, Montana Miss.
122, thank you, Sir.
A bet [inaudible]
for Dickie Wig.
Two bob each way.
We're sorry, all sold out.
Thanks, don't want to
be at half past four.
[chatter]
Irish Jig, Irish Jig, come on.
Come on, Irish Jig.
[shouting]
Montana Miss, I'm sorry.
I'm not.
I bet the 50 pounds to five.
25, 30, one, two,
three, four, and five.
And that settles my account
with Jones and Pike.
Home, sweet home for me.
But you're mad.
We can't stop now, when
our luck's changed.
I've told you before, I'm not
all that interested in betting.
I love horses.
If only I could have a horse
of my own and train it.
Ah, what's the use
of talking rubbish?
You'll never own a horse.
Ah, well, if you're
leaving, I'm going to stay.
I haven't go a home,
sweet home to go
to now anyways, thanks to you.
What do you mean?
What do you think
I'm doing this job for?
I haven't got another job
coming up till Thursday.
That's all right.
Come stay with us
for a few days.
Do you mean it?
Yes, of course I do.
Go on.
Carry on.
I'll wait for you.
[chuckles]
All right, Sir,
good afternoon.
[horse whinnies]
Try this, it's [inaudible].
What a beautiful animal.
She ought to pay for her keep.
Montana Miss?
Yes, that's what I
keep telling him.
But he's bent on selling here.
What do you think she'll get?
Oh, he wouldn't
take less than 300.
That shouldn't
be difficult. 300.
You can't go
wrong at that price.
Perhaps I can get the
bank to lend me 300 pounds.
Only if they've
gone balmy too.
Well, I could my stock.
That would buy
you half a saddle.
There must be some way out.
[animals screeching]
Oh, Daddy, have you busted it?
Well whose is it?
It's mine.
Don't talk nonsense.
It's mine.
What are you talking about?
How did you get the money?
Well it isn't
exactly only mine.
You see, we all gave
seven and six pence each.
And there's 30 of us.
And each girl has it
one day of the month.
And when there's 31 days in the
month, then I have it two days,
because it was my
idea to form a syndi--
syndi-- syndi-something.
She's got it!
Wonderful, Sue.
Oh, ho, wonderful, wonderful.
Isn't she clever?
Well don't you see, a syndicate.
That's how we'll
buy Montana Miss.
What, with 30 people
paying seven and six?
No, 200 or 300,
putting a pound in each.
And where will you find
300 people fool enough?
[excited shouting]
Give us a chance.
Everyone will get paid.
I think you'll find them.
[music playing]
Hey!
Ho!
Hey!
Yeah, what is it?
Take that back.
Give us that ticket.
But look.
79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84,
85, 86, 87 88, 89, 90, 93.
Oh, that's not
bad for a start, eh?
No, not at all.
But I don't see how we're
going to raise at least
300 pounds by Wednesday.
My birthday.
Yes, darling, I know.
And the next day
there's a race meeting.
Montana Miss may
come up for auction.
300 quid by Wednesday?
Why that's easy.
We'll have to get cracking.
Anybody got any ideas?
I know.
Buckingham Palace-- George.
[music playing]
Hey, George Curry, oh, I've
got so much to tell you.
(SPEAKING RAPIDLY)
We've got a lovely idea.
We've all got together.
We're buying this horse, you
see? (SPEAKING VERY RAPIDLY)
[music playing]
Ticket, please.
Three more, can't
stop on my Blue Ridge,
because they'll have a blue fit.
Hi, manners.
Ah, it is good of you.
Are all the tickets gone?
Well, a tiny few to go yet.
Well, here's another seven.
Bill's out now, trying
to polish off the rest.
And if he can't?
SUE: Be careful.
Mind my new dress.
Come on.
Oh, isn't it lovely?
Look, she made it herself.
Nothing's more [inaudible].
You two go on.
I'll come in later.
SUE: --five, six, seven,
eight, nine, 10, 11, 12.
Mr. Rimmel said
to give you these.
Oh, thank you.
Anything else?
No.
Well?
Is it really Susie's birthday?
That's right.
Oh.
Would you like a
piece of birthday cake?
Yea.
All right, go on.
Come on, everybody.
If you don't eat them
before they melt,
you'll have to drink them.
But Bill isn't here yet.
Well, if he can't be here
on time, that's his look up.
Sue, here's another guest.
Oh, hello, Albert.
Hello.
Hello, you decrepit old lady.
Now then, ready, steady, blow.
[excited cheering]
I'll do it.
Here's the first installment
for your own bike,
the bike will come later.
Oh, thank you, Daddy.
Would you like this?
Look, isn't it smashing?
[noisemakers blow]
[excited shouts]
Bill!
Sorry I'm late, mate.
Here you are.
Happy birthday,
and many of them.
My own horse ticket--
look.
Look, everybody.
Look what Bill just gave me.
Look, my own horse ticket.
Well, I've double checked it.
We can't make anymore.
These are the final figures.
[inaudible] 27, [inaudible]
11, Radio Mart 15, Milk Bar 38.
Well done, Maggie.
Temple Tool--
Haven't you got more
friends than that?
In my profession,
they don't like
friends, only acquaintances.
That make it 228 in all.
It's still a long way
from 300, aren't we.
I told you it was mad.
Better give them all
their money back.
What, after all this?
We've scraped the bottom of
the barrel in Lamb's Green.
We can't give in now.
We've won bigger
battles than this.
It's no use hollering
up guards and at him
and on with the Light Brigade.
You can get what isn't there.
The Light Brigade, I wonder
if the chaps could come.
I don't think
they'd remember me.
And yet, it's worth trying.
They were always the lively lot.
[snoring]
[music playing]
Race in [inaudible].
Arthur Hill.
Nosey Parker.
Horsey Hill, great
Scott, where have you
been in all these years, Eh?
What have you been doing
with your self, Hill?
Oh, messing
about with animals.
Big game hunter, dear fellow?
Lion?
Elephant?
No, white mice and goldfish.
I sell them, sort
of, sort of shop.
Great Scott.
I think this calls for a drink.
never heard such nonsense,
leaving you on your birthday
to do go on a wild goose chase.
It's not a wild goose chase.
My Daddy can make
anybody do anything.
Huh.
So I thought, what we
people in Lambs Green lack
was a biblical excitement.
So I said, what about having
a bit of a fling this summer?
After all, the spirit
of adventure isn't dead.
What's a better adventure?
What's greater fun than
to own a race horse?
Throw the
[inaudible] out here.
This is [inaudible].
It's a master
ticket [inaudible]..
One for my boy too.
Rubbish, rubbish,
stuff and nonsense.
Now what's all this nonsense
about another rapper is it?
I don't know what this
confounded club is coming to.
What are we going to have
next, coconut shells?
Hm?
Hm?
Are you a new member, Sir?
No, Sir Robert,
but I, I haven't
been here for a long time.
Ooh, wait a moment.
I remember you.
I never forget a face.
Arthur Dale--
Hill, Sir.
That's right.
They'll send us 14, wasn't it?
You did very well.
Are you doing well now?
Well, not too badly, sir.
Now, look here, Dave.
Stop selling these
things in the club.
Or I'll have to report
you to the committee.
Do you understand?
Hm?
Yes Sir.
Pity, good chap.
One day, a grand military aid,
23 I think, his father's horse.
What he doing now?
Keeps a pet shop, I
believe, in Lamb's Green.
Well, that is a [mumbles].
Funny family, they
keep anything.
Do you know what his father did?
He kept a French woman in India.
Yes, I remember.
It was [inaudible].
Oh I'm so happy.
Hello, Sue.
Did you have a lovely
time a the club, Daddy?
Yes, thank you.
Were they all real
pleased to see you?
Ha ha ha, yes,
I, I suppose so.
Don't you feel proud
selling all those tickets?
The trouble is, I haven't.
But the man told me you had.
What are you talking about?
What man?
The old gentleman.
What, what old gentleman?
Not as old as all that.
Sir.
Took a taxi, beat you to it.
Terribly sorry, I was
rude to you at the club.
You know , gout and all
that sort of thing plays
the devil with one's temper.
Well, don't stand gawking there.
To whom shall I
write out the check?
The check, Sir?
What check, Sir?
To make out the 300 pounds.
I'll pay the difference.
Don't see why you want to drag
those chaps at the club in.
Keep it to ourselves.
Um hm.
I can't thank you enough, Sir.
But that means 72 tickets.
Don't worry about that, Dale.
I'm not a rich man, but I might
as well enjoy all I've got.
No one to leave it to,
excepting my daughter.
She does modest dancing.
Can't stand it.
[chatter]
All right then, Major
Hill is unanimously elected
the president of our syndicate.
[applause]
Thank you, very much indeed.
Now, I'm going to
nominate Mr. Temple
as our honorary treasurer.
I think you shall agree,
it's his profession.
Makes him eminently suitable.
I feel very
honored to be honored
by this honor in this way.
Hey wait a minute.
You haven't been voted for yet.
[laughter]
All right, you're in.
I feel very honored to be on--
And one final
bit of good news.
Tomorrow Ptolemies runs
in a selling plate.
[cheers]
I feel very honored.
[chatter]
[shouting]
It's done!
It's done!
Do you realize
what this means?
I won 30 bob.
It means Montana Miss
is coming up for sale now.
That's why it's called
a selling plate.
Oh, here we have
Montana Miss, winner
of last season's
Mulberry Stakes,
Are really beautiful filly.
Now who's starting
off with 100 guineas?
Thank you, Sir, 100 guineas.
That's him there, look.
- Major Hill?
- Yes.
Nelson of the "Mail," Sir.
Hold it.
260 I'm bid, 260.
[excited chatter]
400, 400 I'm bid, 400, 400.
Any advance on 400 guineas?
For the last time, 400 guineas.
400 guineas once, 400 guineas
twice, sold for 400 guineas.
Now I have to offer this
six-year-old gelding.
Know anything about him?
Yeah, he's a [inaudible]
gone off completely,
one of Charlie Mott's lot.
Oh, come on.
But I--
Come on, Man.
[interposing voices]
Well you see, it
all started when
Daddy tripped over my bicycle.
AUCTIONEER: 230.
Any advance on 230?
Thank goodness,
we're just in time.
250!
250, thank you, Sir.
250 guineas.
Any advance on 250 guineas?
(LAUGHING) That gives
us 50 pounds to play with.
Excuse me there.
Yes.
AUCTIONEER: 250 twice.
Sold for 250 guineas.
It's the wrong horse.
What's happened?
Your name, Sir?
Horse-- uh, Hill, Major Hill.
Put down Major Hill.
Have you got him?
Got the wrong one.
Which one have you got?
Father's Folly, by Bachelor
Knight out of Maiden's Ruin.
Sounds a purpose 'tween
two accidents to me.
[music playing]
Is that his?
Yes.
Bit common looking.
Hm?
What's he say?
Says it's a bit
common looking.
Anyone can see that.
Look at who's talking.
[laughter]
There you are.
He isn't a bad one really,
just a bit highly strung.
He won't concentrate.
Rubbish!
With proper handling, any horse
can be made to concentrate.
Well, to-- to be frank, some
of the owners would prefer
to sell and cut their losses.
But it, if you think if
stands a chance, they might--
Every week he's being
trained, he's costing
the fund more and more money.
Hear, hear.
Why don't some of you
stop nagging and grumbling.
Well, if he's
made a muck of it,
why don't somebody
else have a go?
Who?
You?
No, Ernie Small, he's
got an horse, hadn't he?
Well, he don't know
his horse from his elbow.
Why don't they get
rid of this horse.
[shouting]
Now look here.
I'm quite will to
resign if that's
the wish of the syndicate.
In the meantime, I must
carry on as best I can.
ALL: Hear, hear.
Hear, hear.
[horse whinnies]
Stop this horse!
[airplane engine roars]
Oh, Daddy, Daddy.
Whoa.
Now you see what I mean
about highly strung.
[shouting]
Well, highly strung or
not, we've got to make
up our minds once and for all.
Either we sell him or
try him on the 15th.
Well, he'll be as ready on
the 15th as he'll ever be.
And with a Charlie
Smirke in the saddle,
he might even get into
the first half dozen.
Well, as [inaudible]
treasurer, I still think
that it's just wasting money.
All right.
All right?
Yes, yes.
Hm, yes.
All right.
Good, well here's to the 15th.
[music playing]
Here we are at James Alexander
Park runners and riders.
Now where's it at?
Here it is, Father's Folly.
Oh, blimey, Montana Miss
is in the same race.
Oh, that's where
my dollar's going.
You ought to be
ashamed of yourself.
All right, and anybody
who backs Montana Miss
is a fifth caller [inaudible].
ALL: Hear, hear.
Oh, stop, I've
got some in my eyes!
[shrieks]
HAIR STYLIST: There we are.
I hate it, I tell you.
I hate it.
I don't care if
you do hate it.
Your dad said I was
to get you decent.
You know what the say.
You've got to suffer
to be beautiful.
I don't want to be beautiful.
I wish I could be ugly, and
be a man, and drive a bus.
I'll tell Bill that.
He'll love the ugly part.
You beast, don't you dare.
You, uh, putting any
money on our Gigi tomorrow?
Everybody's gone
daft about that horse,
gnashing about it day and night.
You're going
though, aren't you?
Oh, I'm going all right.
Just because Bill's going.
And that's quite enough
from you, Sore Spot.
Bill and me is mates on the bus.
And that's all there is to it.
You put any money on him, Sam?
What?
Without knowing who is riding
him 24 hours before the race?
What's that to you?
He'll have a good jockey.
Won't he, Sir?
Well, we're, we're
trying our best.
Lucky to find
any jockey to ride
a horse with a name like that.
What's the name got
to do with it, you clot?
Oh, here, stay on.
Look, I won't be called
a clot in me own shop.
Here, I've got
ladies back here.
And the shop's only half yours.
They're off again.
What's it about this time?
Oh, now they're
worrying because they
haven't got a jockey yet.
Hey, where do you
think you're going?
Daddy.
Here, Miss, you're not
supposed to be in here.
What about Charlie Smirke?
What about Dick Turpin?
But Daddy, Mr. Peters said
that if Charlie Smirke was--
He was only just joking.
Not jockeys like
Charlie Smirke--
But, Daddy, have
you tried him?
- Well I haven't got the nerve.
- Well I have.
What?
I wrote to him yesterday.
[music playing]
Send a telegram.
Will you?
Just seeing all
about your syndicate.
Stop.
Will consider it a privilege
to represent Lambs Green.
And you better add, with
all my love, from Charlie.
ANNOUNCER: Fifth race, fetch
all runners and riders.
Charlie Smirke to ride Lambs
Green racing sensation.
NEWSPAPER VENDOR: [inaudible]
Charlie Smirke to ride--
Charlie Smirke to ride
Lambs Green horse.
Get your paper.
Fifth race special.
[cheers]
There we are.
Wasn't it nice of them
to let us have the old bus.
They made them to
last in those days.
Without a sunshine roof, I'd
have marked it export early.
[laughter]
[horn honks]
[music playing]
All right, all
right, don't rush me.
[music playing]
I suppose that's the first
time you heard about this.
Yes, yes.
There he is.
Mr. Smirke.
Hello, Darling, how are you?
Hey, I don't get this
from all the other owners.
I, I hope it brings you luck.
I hope it does.
Please, not just
before the race, Susan.
Don't get him any more excited.
He's bad enough as it is.
Charlie, here's
money for Peter Simple.
20 pound to one,
Father's Folly.
Father's Folly, 20 pound to
one, [inaudible] number's 41.
Father's Folly, Sir.
I've got Montana Miss.
All right,
[inaudible],, are you?
[inaudible]
10 pounds Father's Folly.
Members and owners only.
Hm?
Hm?
(SHOUTING) Members
and owners only.
Well, what do you
think we are, horses?
Look, number 11.
Look.
Well, I knew Charlie Smirke
before you born, my dear.
Come on, you two.
What's the matter?
We, we shall miss the race.
[excited chatter]
Frightfully sorry.
SPECTATOR: MAN: 20
Father's Folly, all right.
MAN: Strike 21, Father's Folly.
[inaudible]
Four Montana Miss,
that's [inaudible]..
SPECTATOR: 20, Father's Folly.
SPECTATOR: I'll bet
21 Father's Folly.
SPECTATOR: 25 pound on
Folly for the [inaudible]..
MAN: Four Montana Miss.
Look, there.
ANNOUNCER: Their on
the starter's orders.
Let me.
There, 11.
They're going
into the loop now.
I can see him quite clearly.
What a lovely coat.
And his eyelashes--
What are you talking about?
Stuart Granger.
And the girl just
next to him looks--
oh, she looks just like--
Charlie Smirke
is having trouble.
[airplane engine roars]
Look out!
He's bolted.
[excited chatter]
ANNOUNCER: First, number
four; second, number nine;
third, number 12,
won by six lengths.
Sorry about that, Major.
We should be sorry, giving
you a mount like that.
Ah, he's not too bad.
But why didn't you tell him
it wasn't the Grand National?
What?
Didn't you see him jump
that barrier down there?
He might not be too
hot in the flat.
But I tell you, he
can jump all right.
Jumper-- the Grand National.
Yeah, some people
will never learn.
[music playing]
[angry chatter]
That horse, wonder they
take it to Parliament.
You'd think they
was in Parliament,
the row they're making.
[shouting]
MAJOR HILL: Order, please.
Order.
I repeat-- I repeat--
I repeat, if it's the
wish of the meeting,
I'm quite willing to resign.
[shouting]
But I think you ought to hear
what Charlie Smirke said.
What?
He told me, and
he ought to know,
that Father's Folly
is a born jumper.
[angry shouts]
Mr. Chairman, I protest.
What, again?
I reckon as how
there are people
here that don't like the truth.
That's because the truth hurts.
Why don't you
stick to the point?
I'm coming to that.
I propose we move a vote of no
confidence against Major Hill.
[shouting]
I reckon the Major's
misused our money.
What do you mean,
he's misused out money?
I'm the treasurer, aren't I?
[laughter]
On a point of order, you can
only move a vote of confidence.
Who says?
I haven't got any confidence.
That's why I'm going to move
a vote of no confidence.
If a vote of
confidence gets defeated,
it comes to the same thing.
Doesn't it?
Twirp!
On a point of
order, Mr. chairman.
I object to brother Leon
calling brother Fisher a twirp.
Hear, hear.
Aye, aye, what's all
this brother stuff?
Do we look like brothers?
[laughter]
This isn't a union meeting.
Well, it was beginning
to sound like one.
All right, I change
that to brother twirp.
[laughter]
BILL: Order, order,
order, please.
Now, will anyone propose a
proper vote of confidence
in Major Hill?
I will, Mr. Chairman.
Knowing the boy 35 years,
promising youngster at Sanders,
good soldier, fine
horseman, level-headed,
and straight as a dial.
Anything wrong with that?
Hm?
Hm?
[shouting]
I second that.
I third that.
And can we have
a show of hands?
Well, there you are.
Major Hill, the
meeting says carry on.
[cheers]
Thank you very much.
And I give you my word,
we'll do everything
to make our horse a jumper that
all sportsmen will remember,
even if he is called
Father's Folly.
[laughter]
Did you hear that?
We don't like the
name either, Major.
Well, what about it?
Shall we change his name?
ALL: Yeah!
[excited shouts]
WOMAN: Why not call it Evelyn?
Why not call it Evelyn?
Why not call it Evelyn?
But, Madam, it's a he.
So was my late husband.
And he was called Evelyn.
[laughter]
I, I, I've got a suggest to
make-- the Galloping Major.
[shouts]
(SINGING) Bumpety, bumpety,
bump, riding about on me
charger.
Bumpety, bumpety,
bumpety, bumpety, bump,
like an Indian rajah.
All the girls declare
that he's a gallant major.
Hi, hi, clear the the way.
Here comes the Galloping Major.
[cheers]
Now, ladies and gentlemen,
before we get too carried away,
there is one thing
we must not overlook.
This new training is
going to cost money.
Then there are
the entrance fees.
And if we really want to
make the Grand National,
it will cost 100 pounds
alone to enter him.
The evidence-- don't
say I didn't warn you.
Oh, why don't you shut up.
[chatter]
[gavel bangs]
Is there anyone
here who backed
Montana Miss this afternoon?
[chatter]
Well, I did.
And as we need to open a
training fund, here goes.
For the Galloping Major.
Good idea.
Oh, you.
Well, I said I might back it.
Didn't I?
And I'll take my
stake back anyway.
[laughter]
Now, come on,
everybody, own up.
Come on.
Come on.
Come on.
In my profession,
you learn a thing
or two about human nature.
106 pound eight and four pence.
That's not enough
to pay the training
and the Grand National.
There's only one thing for it.
We just have to train
that horse ourselves.
[music playing]
NARRATOR: Training a
race horse in London
is difficult without
official blessing.
Park keepers like to keep
things off the grass.
What about rule 19?
That's all right.
We've thought of everything.
NARRATOR: The Major
was forced to be
almost continuously
in the saddle
as the training
schedule expanded.
Timetables went
overboard to cope
with additional request stops.
And the Green's belt had to
be pulled in several notches
while the syndicate
combined duties of landscape
gardeners and scene shifters.
Everything was sacrificed
to the Galloping Major.
And when father went
out with the plan,
mother was left
holding the baby.
There he goes.
[train whistle toots]
Jumped it clean
today, didn't he?
Oh, his jumping's all right.
But I've nowhere near enough
space to work on his speed.
NARRATOR: Not enough space.
What about Hyde Park?
[music playing]
But as the strenuous training
began to make its mark,
Lambs Green racing stable
me powerful opposition.
There was that day
in November, when
official indignation nearly
put an end to their efforts.
Then came the prolonged
cold spell, when
training came to a dead stop.
Snowbound days
kept them indoors.
And they began to wish
that instead of a horse,
they had a reindeer.
How they longed to start
filling in his racing calendar.
And how everyone in
Lambs Green trembled
and prayed when the Galloping
Major caught pneumonia.
[music playing]
But it was not all
worry and anxiety
that the chaser
brought to Lambs Green
throughout that long winter.
There were also rewards.
[music playing]
And so at last came spring.
And the hopes of Lambs
Green began to rise
to unprecedented heights.
Encouraged by their
steeplechaser's
fine performance in
one or two minor races,
they made the big decision.
The Galloping Major was
entered for the Grand National.
[music playing]
Two Aintree Glories.
All right, Peggy,
another Aintree Glory.
[chatter]
I suppose you're afraid to
try something else one day.
You might enjoy it.
Why don't you leave me alone?
Because you sow the
Earth with your misery.
What about that horse, eh?
If we'd have listened to you,
we'd have sold him months ago.
Now half the country
has got its money on it.
What have you got
to say that, eh?
More baked bean, Miss, out.
You going to entry?
Of course, I think it does you
good, a weekend away from home.
You won't [inaudible]
for that, [inaudible]..
See that.
They're sending a special horse
box for the Galloping Major
to drive him to
Liverpool in the morning.
Give over.
It's only a penny outside.
MAJOR HILL: Sue, bed.
Do you know what time it is?
Oh, please, no, Daddy.
I've just finished this.
Can't I take it to the
Galloping Major now?
No, no, no, certainly not.
You can do it in the morning
before they come and fetch him.
Oh, please, Daddy,
please, please.
I wouldn't go to
sleep, obviously.
And I haven't got
to have a bath.
Oh, please, Daddy.
Now, now, no more nonsense.
Bed, ah.
Right.
She'd stay up half
the night if she could.
So I've noticed.
Good night, all.
[gargling]
[music playing]
[horse neighs]
[music playing]
Come on, Daddy,
please hurry up.
Come on.
You'll be late for it.
Come on.
Please, hurry.
Please, Daddy, come
along here, quick.
Come on.
I've worked it out.
It's just 32 hours and 17
minutes before the National.
Come on.
Ah, well, this is the day.
He's gone!
He's gone!
He's gone!
We don't know where he is.
I swear I fastened
the door last night.
I swear I did.
And when I came down this
morning, I found it open.
It's my fault, Daddy.
It's all my fault. I
went to take the rug.
Sue, pull yourself together.
What happened?
I only wanted him
to have the rug.
I didn't mean to.
I really didn't mean to.
I knew this would happen.
What a way to run
a racing stable.
Never mind about that now.
Bill, you tell the depot.
I'll ring the police.
The thing is to find that horse.
The thing is to stop
wasting any more money.
Scratch the horse now.
[music playing]
[sobbing]
Hey, what's that
horse doing there?
He was wanted 10 minutes ago.
[banging]
[chatter]
All right, if
everybody's ready, come on.
Light the eye.
Red light.
Sound.
Stand by, everybody.
Now come on, boys.
Let's go.
Faster.
You ready, Desmond?
Sound is up.
Camera's running.
He's up.
309, take four.
Action.
What tidings,
lieutenant, of the armada?
Cut it.
Oh, Jack, I'm sorry.
Who made a word like armada?
Oh, Jack, I'm sorry.
I know it's armada,
armada, armada.
It's-- What's
What's that?
This is no good.
I asked for a gray.
It's nothing to do with me.
I just brought it along.
[inaudible] times I get a bay.
I told Gobbs.
That's all right.
I can manage.
Get it's sprayed.
Get it sprayed.
Whoa, boy.
Hold still, boy.
Hold still, boy.
Come on, boy.
[music playing]
Then you take the short
cut after Beegum Abbey.
And we'll see you
in the morning.
OK, gov.
NEWSPAPER VENDOR: Lambs
Green horse is gone.
Paper.
[horn honks]
"Star News Standard," Lambs
Green horse still at large.
No sign of him anywhere.
Now who's right?
You listened to me, we'd
have sold that horse.
If your parents
had had any sense,
you wouldn't be here
to be listened to.
Any news from your friend
down at the police station?
Doing what he can.
But they say they've got more
important things to worry
about than lost horses.
It's all those
crimes of passion.
Never mind about passion.
I'd like some
bread and dripping.
REPORTER (ON RADIO): --news.
We've got a special
message about the missing
racehorse from Lambs Green.
It's about us.
REPORTER (ON RADIO): The
animal is still believed to be
astray in the London area.
And the police ask anyone who
might see the missing horse
to approach it gently.
Do not shout.
Offer it sugar.
And make a sound of
this description--
hoopalong, hoopalong, hoopalong.
On the eve of the
race, hope of its being
found time is rapidly fading,
to the dismay of thousands
of punters everywhere.
The only optimists
are the people
of Lambs Green, who go on
hoping for a last-minute miracle
to happen.
While the search--
Optimists, coo--
lunatics if you ask me,
making fools of
ourselves and leading
a lot of punters up the garden.
If I had my way, I'd
tell the BBC now--
Well you're not
going to have your way.
I'm sorry.
But I'm afraid you've
got a point there.
Comes a time when you
can't go on hoping.
[shouting]
[glass shattering]
They're after our blood.
That's what it is.
They're after our blood.
It's not save to go out.
We nearly them
with that motorbike.
Didn't see their
numbers, worse luck.
Who were they?
Sore about their
bets, I suppose.
I don't blame them.
We better get it over.
I'll issue a statement
that the horse won't run.
We'd better lie
low from now on.
What about these?
Can't we sell them?
I'll have mine now,
if you don't mind.
I'm going to catch the
first train in the morning.
But you're mad.
They'll murder you.
If there's going to be any
trouble, I'd rather be there.
What do you intend to do?
Be evacuated?
I'm not a coward.
I'll come.
[horn honks]
[baby cries]
I hear the whole thing's off.
You're telling me.
Wish they'd of
told me last night.
Bye-bye, Darling.
Bill, I rang up the BBC.
They wouldn't take
it over the phone.
Will you take this
there in person?
Yeah, that's OK.
I don't go on till 8:00.
Right.
Can I come to the
BBC with you, Bill?
Her dad said she was to
go to school as per usual.
Oh, Bill.
Oh, now, look I'm sorry, mate.
It looks as though
nobody is going to have
a holiday in Lambs Green.
You better get to school.
This was going to
be such a lovely day.
Yes, Ducks, I know.
But brooding about
it won't help.
Record crowds have
poured into Liverpool.
And the weather experts promise
a glorious Grand National.
Look!
It's him.
I'd know it anywhere.
Oh, if only Bill was here.
We must stop him before
he gets to the BBC.
But it doesn't say where
they're making the film
I know, Rosedale, where
they have the Silver
Screen Smile contests.
You run after Bill, Ducks.
And we'll go and
phone the studio.
STUDIO MAN (ON PHONE): No,
no, it's on location today.
There's no phone for miles.
You'll have to wait,
madam, until they get
in touch with us this evening.
Thank you.
Thank you, very much.
It's him all right.
And they've taken
him away to Chester.
They're filming there.
Oh, blast it.
Chester?
That's near Liverpool, isn't it?
So it is.
I never thought of that.
Well, what are we waiting for?
What about delivering
the Major's note?
Well, he won't mind if we
deliver the horse instead,
will he?
(LAUGHING) Oh, I love you.
I'll see you at the depot.
Oh.
What's the matter with you?
I think he said
that I love you.
Come on.
[music playing]
[excited chatter]
[inaudible] can
do my shift for me.
Well if you go,
they'll all want to go.
Now, Gov, there's a list of
volunteers to keep the service
going if you let the others go.
OK.
[excited chatter]
[music playing]
[cheers]
[music playing]
All present and correct, Gov.
Great day, this, Sergeant,
just like [inaudible]..
[horn honks]
[music playing]
[chatter]
No replies, I
don't understand it.
Nothing on the wireless,
nothing in the midday papers.
Maybe they got Bill
on his way to the BBC.
Bill's like the
Rock of Gibraltar.
If he says he'll
do a thing he does.
And no reply from [inaudible].
There must be something in it.
There's still time to
declare that horse.
[music playing]
Aren't you quoting a price
for the Galloping Major?
Aye?
I said, aren't you quoting a
price for the Galloping Major?
I had the sense to lose him.
Yes, but are you
sure he's not running?
Nothing's been said about
his being scratched.
Look, I'll lay you 1,000
to 1 on the Galloping Major.
Do you want it?
How impertinent.
Come on.
We don't want any trouble.
Six [inaudible].
Are you laying
the 1,000 to one
against the Galloping Major?
Got money to
throw away on her?
Yes, I have.
I'll have 5,000 to 5.
5,000 to five,
Galloping Major, 334.
Six of [inaudible].
[chatter]
I'll take two.
Thanks, love.
Are queens wild?
[chatter]
Yeah, but are you or
are you not the owners?
I told you, there
are 300 owners.
But the horse is entered
in the name of Major Hill.
And he's at Aintree.
I can only hand the
horse over to him.
Oh, blimey.
Well you better
come with us then.
Yeah, but the owner's got
to charge them, hasn't he?
Oh, holy smoke.
We'll bring them along as well.
Come on.
ANNOUNCER: And what
a location this is.
Of course, there's no
place like Aintree,
and no race like the National.
And with all the
runners I've mentioned,
this is sure to
be one of the most
exciting races of recent years.
Of course, bear in mind, there
may yet be another runner,
because there is a rumor
going about the racecourse
that the Galloping
Major has been found.
And if he can get here in time,
he'll be amongst the starters.
Members of the Lambs
Green syndicate
have already been
seen in the car park.
Hey, two teas, five pence.
[excited chatter]
[inaudible]
What about the
Galloping Major?
I'll be generous, 200 to one.
All right then, two
quid to win, please.
Well make it 30.
Make that three [inaudible].
Come down to the three and
a half, Galloping Major, 542.
Haven't got any inside
information, have you?
What do you think we gave you
all that dough for, charity?
ANNOUNCER: And now I just
had some more information
about the Galloping Major.
He's on his way to the course.
And every assistance
to his progress
is being give by the
county authorities.
[music playing]
Bill.
Hm?
- You know what you said to me.
- What?
You know.
What about it?
Did You mean it?
Course I meant it.
Wouldn't have said
if I didn't mean it.
Would I?
Oh, Bill.
You know, we can't
worry about that now.
Can we?
[music playing]
ANNOUNCER: I've got
some fairly terrific
new about the Galloping Major.
Everything's all right.
The horse box he's traveling
in has been spotted
going through Buckman Head.
And he's, at the moment,
actually in the Mersey Tunnel.
[music playing]
Well, it can't
take us long now.
All right, if he knows
his way about Liverpool.
[laughter]
I haven't come here
to be made a fool of.
Here, take this.
Well that has
put the lid on it.
I've never know a day like this.
ANNOUNCER: Here's
an announcement.
In view of the
unusual circumstances,
though the Galloping Major has
not yet arrived on the course,
he has been accepted
as a runner.
Jack, you can't do this.
You know what it means to us.
You go in the paddock then.
Let them take the
Mickey out of you.
I wish I could.
Say, a great day
this, Dale, great day.
Jack's walked out on us.
We can't run the Major.
Can't run him after all this?
Rubbish.
Yeah, ride him yourself.
20 years ago, I wouldn't
have thought twice about it,
but not now.
No, I, I can't.
You're in command.
You've got to be
last to the post.
I mean, first to the post.
Come on.
Hm?
Hm?
And here's the big news that
you've all been waiting for.
I just received definite
confirmation that the Galloping
Major is less than half a
mile away from the course,
and will certainly
reach now on time.
[music playing]
[train whistle toots]
Three minutes
to go, gentlemen.
Oh, no, Sir, no, no,
no, no, no, it's hopeless.
Nonsense, it fits
you like a glove.
[cheers]
SUE: Daddy!
Daddy!
I hope we got in time.
Darling, you've won
all your medals back now.
We've only got a
couple of minutes.
Come on.
Oh
28 pounds overweight.
28 pounds.
This is madness.
We can't go through with this.
We've got to run
the horse now, Major.
But it doesn't matter
if you don't win the race.
Rubbish, of course he'll win.
Mr. Temple will faint
if he sees you, Dad.
He won't see him.
Oh, look at him.
[chatter]
ANNOUNCER: Well here at Aintree,
the tension is increasing
as the big moment approaches.
And you that it's spreading
through the crowds packing
in the stands and enclosures,
as the horses turn out
to the parade one by one
parade canter down to the start
for the calling of the roll.
That doesn't take long,
nor does the lining up,
for there's no draw.
And the riders can pick
their own places in the line.
Let me have a look, please.
ANNOUNCER: In fact, the
white flag is now up.
And they'll be off at any
moment on this tremendous test
of man and horse.
I can see the Galloping
Major well placed
on the inside,
looking quite cool.
And so is his rider, Major Hill.
Look, there he is!
ANNOUNCER: Now they're
coming down into line.
It looks as though the starters
will get them off first time.
They're right up to the tapes.
Yes, they're off.
Yay!
Daddy!
Come on.
ANNOUNCER: --with Corn Cob
and [inaudible] just behind.
The Galloping Major
got well away,
but he's not being pressed.
Over the first they go,
with Troubadour and Gay Dawn
in the lead.
Already down are
Roberta Rose, Overtime,
Fitzgerald, and Madigan.
And the Galloping Major is over.
And coming to the
second now, it's
Troubadour leading
at a good gallop,
with Lean Lad, Beau Gest,
and Scratcher well there.
Of course, the field is
spreading out quite a bit now.
Galloping Major has
dropped back a bit.
It's neck or nothing
in this race,
with the ground
a bit treacherous
and the pace making it worse.
Coming now to the
next, it's still
Scratcher and Gay Dawn in front,
with Lean Lad and Troubadour.
[inaudible] are over.
No, down goes Checky Boy,
as the field sweeps by.
On now to the next fence,
Gay Dawn takes it well.
So does Mariner.
And it's Muscleman's turn to go.
Where's the Galloping Major?
What about the Galloping Major.
I can't see him, matey.
Must be there somewhere.
ANNOUNCER: Still they charge on.
Irish Shelia is there,
but down goes What For.
The field is thinning out fast.
And now there must
be about 30 lengths
between the first
and last horses.
Still going all right
is the Galloping Major.
Although he's got a lot
of ground to make up.
Constable, constable,
I've got a train to catch.
- Oh, let them wait.
- Don't mess about.
ANNOUNCER: Now it's
Troubadour in the lead again,
with Gay Dawn second, as they're
really eating up the ground.
Jackson's riding the race
of his life on this horse,
going better than ever
we've seen him before.
And going right up
with the leaders
are Beau Gest, Corn
Cob, Scratcher.
And then three lengths
behind is Irish Shelia.
I can't see any signs of
the Galloping Major now.
So that about puts pain to
the hopes of Lambs Green.
[groans]
But the pace is breaking
up the field fast.
Gay Dawn and Troubadour
are well over.
But now it's goodbye
to Good Evening.
And the falls are
coming thick and fast.
In fact there seem
to be more loose
horses at this stage of the
race than for many years.
And now Corn Cob's refused.
And as they're coming up for
the next, it's Beau Gest.
And down goes Showcase.
Well, the field's
cut right up now.
And there are only
a few left standing.
But they're keeping
up this cracking pace.
And there goes Lean Lad to
narrow it still further.
Now they're heading
at last [inaudible]..
But they've got
some way to go yet.
Still Troubadour leading
as Some Fun drops out.
And that leaves only a handful
of horses in the struggle.
Now Gay Dawn is challenging
as they come up to the next.
Troubadour is over well.
So are Beau Gest.
And [inaudible] out of it.
This is sensational.
And only four left in
the race, Troubadour, Gay
Dawn, Beau Gest, and Stretcher.
Oh, and there goes Beau Gest.
Only three left in it now.
And there goes Scratcher.
I've never seen
anything like it.
Only two horses left.
And it's Troubadour and Gay
Dawn only coming to the last.
But one-- oh, Gay Dawn
unseats her jockey.
This is amazing, only one
horse left on his feet.
Troubadour is coming
down to the last fence.
And Jackson, his jockey, is off.
This is utterly fantastic.
All the horses in the
National have fallen.
There's never been anything like
it in the history of the race.
It's a clean sweep
for the books.
[chatter]
Come on, Mate.
It's all over.
[chatter]
Look!
What's this?
I believe there is still
a horse on the course.
Everybody's rushing back to
the stands to have a look.
Daddy!
Come on, old boy.
Don't let them down.
By Jove, it is!
It's Major Hill on
the Lambs Green horse.
Yes, it's clearly
the Galloping Major.
And he looks--
Hooray!
ANNOUNCER: It looks as though
there'll be a winner after all.
[horns honking]
ANNOUNCER: Even going
at top speed, Major--
Oh, I'm afraid-- though, he's
obviously almost exhausted.
What a tragedy,
when there's such
a rich prize within his grasp.
The Galloping Major's
actually stopped.
[groans]
Hoopalong, hoopalong.
[shouting]
ANNOUNCER: Yes,
he's moving again.
Will he do it?
Only one more fence-- no,
he's stopped once more.
[shouting]
What can I do?
ANNOUNCER: It's all right.
He's moving again.
And it looks as if he's
keeping it up this time,
only one more fence.
No one else in sight, not
even a remounted animal.
Now he's heading for the jump.
The Major's putting him into it.
No, he's refused.
This is really the most
incredible race I've ever seen.
Now the Major's
turning him around.
The strain on
everyone is terrific.
Not only the syndicate,
but everybody here
wants to see at least
one gallant animal
complete this famous course.
Come on, Major, get him up.
Come along, Major.
Come along, not far.
Go on, kick it.
What can I do?
ANNOUNCER: Yes,
he's pulling again.
And he's over.
By Jove, he's over.
Whoopee!
[non-english speech]
ANNOUNCER: Everybody else
is shouting and cheering.
Only have the run in, or shall
I say the crawl in, left to do.
Will he make it?
He's standing still!
Oh, please, dear.
No, he's moving.
We've got a winner after all.
The Galloping Major has won.
But I don't know who is the
more exhausted, him or me.
[cheering]
Hey, kiss me.
[excited chatter]
(SINGING) Bumpety,
bumpety, bumpety,
bump riding along on a charger.
Bumpety, bumpety, bumpety, bump,
as proud as and Indian rajah.
All the girls declare that
he's a gay old stager.
Hey, hey, clear the way, here
comes the Galloping Major.
[music - "the galloping major"]