Dr. Hinge: I didn’t order that?

Dame Hilda: I'm glad I'd hate to think of you up in your bedroom farming squabs. Nasty squiggly things.

Dr. Hinge: Squabs are pigeons, Hilda.

Dame Hilda: What am I thinking of then?

Dr. Hinge: Heaven alone knows! Probably squid.

Dame Hilda: Well, I wouldn't like to think of you up in your bedroom farming squids either. Nasty squiggly things.

Dr. Hinge: You are in a silly mood this morning, aren't you?

Dame Hilda: At least I wasn't silly enough to break the heel off my shoe.

Dr. Hinge: And what's that you're clutching in the little jiffy bag then?

Dame Hilda: I'll tell you in a jiffy. Ha, ha, ha! It's my mail.

Dr. Hinge: Is that all that came for you?

Dame Hilda: Yes dear. It was a very thin delivery, but an intriguing one, I’ve no idea what this can be it's postmarked Brighton.

Dr. Hinge: Perhaps someone’s sent you a couple of whelks.

Dame Hilda: My friends don't send whelks, dear, only oysters. No. it feels as if there's a little box in here somewhere about the size of a matchbox.

Dr. Hinge: Do your friends normally send their oysters in matchboxes?

Dame Hilda: Now who's being silly?

Dr. Hinge: As a matter of fact I think I know what that is.

Dame Hilda: What? No, no, no, no, no, don't tell me, you’ll spoil it. Now which end are you supposed to open these things?

Dr. Hinge: I'm sure it doesn't matter, Hilda.

Dame Hilda: I don't want to damage this nice little bag.

Dr. Hinge: Someone's going to get their Christmas present in that, are they?

Dame Hilda: Yes, probably you. It looks about the right size for that set of small screwdrivers I had in mind. Oh, what have I got?

Dr. Hinge: It's what I thought it was.

Dame Hilda: It's a key ring.

Dr. Hinge: That’s right.

Dame Hilda: How did you know?

Dr. Hinge: Because I sent off for it.

Dame Hilda: Then why is it addressed to me?

Dr. Hinge: Because I sent off for it for you.

Dame Hilda: Why? it's not my birthday or anything. Evadne, what have you done that I'm not going to like that I don't know about yet?

Dr. Hinge: I haven't done anything. You like little surprises, don't you?

Dame Hilda: Well, yes.

Dr. Hinge: So I thought I'd give you one!

Dame Hilda: Oh, how very nice of you, dear.

Dr. Hinge: And there should be another little surprise in the bag somewhere.

Dame Hilda: Really?

Dr. Hinge: Yes. There should be a bill.

Dame Hilda: I thought you said it was a present.

Dr. Hinge: I never said that. I just said I'd sent off for it for you.

Dame Hilda: £4.95! For a key ring? I don't need a key ring, I've already got a key ring.

Dr. Hinge: You haven't got one like this. You're going to be eternally grateful to me.

Dame Hilda: That’ll be the day.

Dr. Hinge: You'll see. You'll find it's money well spent, Hilda, here, give that to me.

Dame Hilda: No, no, if I'm paying for it I’m keeping it!

Dr. Hinge: I'll show you how it works.

Dame Hilda: Evadne, I may not be a little engineer like you, but I do know how to put keys on a key ring.

Dr. Hinge: I'm not talking about putting your keys on it.

Dame Hilda: What am I supposed to do with it then, wear it through my nose?

Dr. Hinge: Give it to me and I'll show you.

Dame Hilda: Oh, very well. Here you are, clever clogs!

Dr. Hinge: Now this little box like device hanging on the chain here is not just decoration, you know.

Dame Hilda: It's very pretty, it matches my eyes.

Dr. Hinge: Well, consider that a bonus. This is a small piece of modern technology, Hilda.

Dame Hilda: Oh, don't make it sound so boring, dear.

Dr. Hinge: We just slide this panel off the back here.

Dame Hilda: Yes.

Dr. Hinge: We turn these two tiny batteries the right way up.

Dame Hilda: Batteries, does it light up or something?

Dr. Hinge: Well, it does more than that, Hilda, you'll see in a minute. But put your keys on it first and then you'll never have to search for them again.

Dame Hilda: I say, that does sound marvellous.

Dr. Hinge: Yes, doesn't it? I'm fed up with you constantly losing your keys.

Dame Hilda: I'm not constantly losing them.

Dr. Hinge: Well, go on then put them on your new key ring.

Dame Hilda: Yes, all right, dear. I will, as soon as I find them.

Dr. Hinge: There, you see you've lost them again, haven't you?

Dame Hilda: Well, only temporarily.

Dr. Hinge: Well, I'll show you the principle anyway. Put your key ring down on the table.

Dame Hilda: Right.

Dr. Hinge: Now go over to the door,

Dame Hilda: Right,

Dr. Hinge: Now whistle.

Dame Hilda: Whistle? I don't whistle, dear, it makes one's mouth look so ugly.

Dr. Hinge: Well, just this once try to do something without watching yourself in the mirror, Hilda. Then you won’t notice, will you?

Dame Hilda: Oh, very well. What do you want me to whistle?

Dr. Hinge: Just whistle as if you were whistling for a dog.

Dame Hilda: I never whistle for dogs. I simply say, come here, doggy, doggy, and they come.

Dr. Hinge: Pretend you're whistling for a taxi then.

Dame Hilda: You mean like you do with two fingers in your mouth?

Dr. Hinge: That's the idea.

Dame Hilda: Certainly not, Evadne. I've told you before, that's the shortest road to rheumatic fingertips and a mouth like a letterbox.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, for goodness sake, Hilda, just whistle!

Dame Hilda: Oh, very well, anything for a bit of peace. {Whistle.}

{Bleep!}

Dr. Hinge: There, did you hear it?

Dame Hilda: Yes, yes, I heard it.

Dr. Hinge: There you are you see, the magic key ring.

Dame Hilda: It hasn't moved.

Dr. Hinge: Moved?

Dame Hilda: Well, isn't it supposed to come to me when I whistle?

Dr. Hinge: What do you expect for £4.95, a robot?

Dame Hilda: Well, you did say it was a piece of modern technology.

Dr. Hinge: I said it was a small piece.  It bleeps to tell you where it is, no matter where it's hidden and up to 30 feet away,

Dame Hilda: A dog would have come to me.

Dr. Hinge: Your answer's simple, then, isn't it? Buy a dog and tie your wretched keys to that.

Dame Hilda: There's no need to be sharp, you know, I was merely making what I considered a mildly amusing observation.

{Door opens.}

Dame Hilda: Oh, that'll be Maud, dear. I know, I'll tell you what, let's hide the key ring and see if she can find it.

Dr. Hinge: I don't want to play silly games with Maud.

Dame Hilda: All right, I'll play silly games with her on my own then. Here, I'll hide it in the bowl of fruit on the table, ha, ha, ha!, under the bananas of yours, there!

Dr. Hinge: Oh, very amusing.

Maud:  Good morning, Dame ‘ilda. Doctor!

Dame Hilda: Morning, Maud, dear!

Dr. Hinge: Good morning, Maud.

Dame Hilda: I'm glad you’ve arrived, Maud, because I've got a new key ring, I only got it this morning.

Maud: I know what you're going to say, Dame ‘ilda. You've lost yer blessed keys again, ‘aven't yer?

Dame Hilda: As a matter of fact I have, dear, yes. Why do you know where they are?

Maud: No.

Dr. Hinge: Helpful as usual.

Dame Hilda: Oh, well, doesn't matter, they'll turn up, you know, they always do. The point is though I've also lost my new key ring.

Maud: You'll be losing yer ‘ead next.

Dr. Hinge: That might cure her of looking in mirrors.

Dame Hilda: Now, Maud. I wonder if we could find my new key ring if I whistled for it.

Maud:  Are you all right, Dame ‘ilda​?

Dame Hilda: I’m absolutely fine, Maud. I just want you to help me find my new key ring, that's all.

Maud: Well, I’ll keep me eyes open o’ course.

Dame Hilda: You don't need to keep your eyes open, dear, just listen. {Bleep!}

Maud: What was that Dame Hilda?

Dame Hilda: That was my new key ring, dear. You see, when you whistle it bleeps to tell you where it is.

Maud: And where is it?

Dr. Hinge: Oh, merciful heavens.

Dame Hilda: That's what I want you to tell me, Maud. You see, it's a little joke, I've hidden it.

Maud:  Oh, let’s ‘ear it again then, Dame Hilda, and this time I’ll cock an ear.

Dr. Hinge: Don't do anything you might regret.

Dame Hilda: Well, just once more, then, Maud, all right. But I don't want to whistle too much, I'd hate to end up with a permanent pout like the Doctors. {Whistle, bleep!} Well, Maud, where is it?

Maud: Uh… it's in ‘ear somewhere.

Dr. Hinge: So far, so good.

Maud: Is it on the window sill?

Dame Hilda: No.

Maud: Behind the grandfather clock?

Dame Hilda: No.

Maud: Am I getting warmer, Dame ‘ilda?

Dame Hilda: No. Well, not really, dear. I'll give you a little clue, shall I? Oranges and lemons

Dr. Hinge: Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Hilda. It's not a guessing game, this is microtechnology at work.

Maud: Well, your micaronitology may be working all right, Doctor. But that ain't a lot of ‘elp if you're stuck with funny ears, and my ears is funny.

Dr. Hinge: You can say that again.

Maud: I never ‘ave been able to tell where certain sounds was coming from. That's why when I were a litt’un I was always being left behind in fields.

Dame Hilda: What do you mean, dear?

Maud: Well, see, from time to time, all us kids ‘ud be took on an outing or a picnic. And I'd wander off, all on me own across the fields walkin' me pig.

Dr. Hinge: You used to take a pig on outings?

Maud: And why shouldn't I, Doctor? pigs don't get many treats.

Dame Hilda: Well, let's face it, Evadne. We've been on outings with worse things than pigs. I mean, do you remember that trip to Mablethorpe, with the ladies leisure club?

Dr. Hinge: Don't remind me, I've still got a winkle wedged in my police whistle.

Maud: My pig were only a litt’un. ‘e ‘ad a collar with ‘is name on it, Porker.

Dr. Hinge: Highly original!

Maud: And I used to walk ‘im on a lead, just like a dog ‘e were. Well, better really, ‘e didn't chase cats.

Dame Hilda: And how did walking off on your own with your pig result in your being left behind, then, Maud?

Maud:  Well, see, when it were time to go ‘ome someone’d ring an ‘and bell to get us all in the charabanc like. And thinkin' as the bell were comin' from where it weren't I'd run to where I thought it were, and it weren't. So I'd end up miles away and they all ‘ad to go ‘ome without me.

Dame Hilda: How terrible, dear, didn't anyone ever make any sort of effort to ensure they knew where you were?

Maud: Oh, they did in the end, Dame ‘ilda.

Dr. Hinge: And how did they manage to do that then, Maud?

Maud: They used to tie me to a tree.

Dr. Hinge: Eminently sensible.

Dame Hilda: What a very sad story, Maud, I had no idea.

Maud: Mind me, ‘earings not been quite so funny since I growed up, though it do still come and go a bit.

Dr. Hinge: Yes, I notice it has a tendency to go whenever I ask you to do something for me.

Dame Hilda: Incidentally, Maud, the Doctor wants you to do something for her now, don't you, dear?

Dr. Hinge: Yes, I do.

Maud: Well, you tell me what it is, Doctor, and I'll tell yer whether I've ‘eard it or not.

Dr. Hinge: I want you to fetch a hammer for me, Maud, that's all, from the garden shed.

Maud: What?!!

Dame Hilda: Now, Maud, you know the Doctor doesn't like being teased.

Maud: All right. I'll go and fetch ‘er ‘ammer for ‘er.

Dame Hilda: That's the spirit, thank you, dear.

Dr. Hinge: I don't know why you humour her. Her and her silly stories. There's nothing wrong with her ears that a balaclava helmet wouldn't hide.

Dame Hilda: You should give her one of yours, then. But she couldn't find that key ring, could she?

Dr. Hinge: That's because she's stupid.

Dame Hilda: You should take a look at your own ears before you start throwing stones at other people's. Now, how about a song while we're waiting?

Dr. Hinge: Well, how do you expect me to play the piano with one shoe off?

Dame Hilda: In your stocking feet, of course.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, very funny.

Dame Hilda: Well, as the foot that's shoeless is the one that usually pumps the loud pedal, I thought this might be an opportunity for a nice, quiet song.

Dr. Hinge: And would you promise to sing it quietly?

Dame Hilda: I always sing quietly, dear, if I'm not having to struggle to make myself heard above the piano.

Dr. Hinge: Very well then, which song do you want?

Dame Hilda: Well, it's on the very top inside the piano stool there. I saw it yesterday. Maud's story reminded me, you see.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, this one. When the little pigs begin to fly?

Dame Hilda: That's it. Do you remember it?

Dr. Hinge: No.

Dame Hilda: You will when you hear it. It's one of Ellaline Terriss’s old songs.

Dr. Hinge: Well, I'm ready when you are. Why don't you kick off your shoes and join me?

When I was quite a tiny little mite

Each nursery romance I knew

There was sweet Bo peep

With her wandering sheep

And delightful Cinderella too

I used to say I was longing for the day

When a fairy prince should meet my eye

But they’d answer me such a sight you'll only see

When the little pigs begin to fly

When the little pigs begin to fly

Which is sure to happen by and by

Won’t the country people stare

At the bacon in the air

When the little pigs begin to fly

When just half grown

I'd a piggy of my own

Like Mary and her famous lamb

He was fat you know

And I loved him so.

Till they turned him into sausage and ham

But now I'm big

There's another kind of pig

Which I fancy I should like to try

He'll be not too old

Very handsome rather bold

And I don't intend to let him fly

If my little pig begins to fly

There’ll be lots of trouble by and by

I shall have to tie his wing

With a little bit of string, Ha, ha, ha!

If my little pig begins to fly

Dame Hilda: You know, that's a funny thing, isn't it, Evadne?

Dr. Hinge: What is?

Dame Hilda: According to that music that song was written in 1898, and pigs still can't fly, can they?

Dr. Hinge: So what?

Dame Hilda: Well, I mean, they talk about progress.

Maud: ‘ere we are then, Doctor. ‘ere's your ‘ammer.

Dr. Hinge: Thank you, Maud, now, where's my shoe?

Dame Hilda: That's over there.

Dr. Hinge: And where's my heel?

Dame Hilda: That's over here.

Maud: And she says you can never find things.

Dr. Hinge: Right, I'll do this in the hearth. Hilda, you hold the shoe and I'll hit it.

Maud: Would you like me to ‘old it or ‘it it, or both?

Dr. Hinge: No, I would not. Stay where you are on the far side of the table, Maud. Hilda, hold the shoe.

Dame Hilda: I don't want to hold it, I want to hit it.

Dr. Hinge: You'll never be able to hit it hard enough!

Dame Hilda: Evadne, I'll have you know that when I was a land girl I used to help shoe horses. Not that their shoes were as heavy as yours, of course.

Dr. Hinge: Very well then, I'll hold it. Now, hit it. {Tap!} You're going to have to do better than that.

Dame Hilda: Oh, well, be it on your own hand.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, get on with it.

Dame Hilda: You know, this rhythmic banging, it reminds me of the Anvil chorus in Il Trovatore.

{Bleep!}

Maud: I say, Dame ‘ilda.  I think I know where your key ring is.

Dame Hilda: Well done, Maud.

Maud: It’s right under me nose innit?

Dr. Hinge: Wouldn't she make a lovely bloodhound?

Maud: Yes, ‘ere it is, in the fruit bowl, under the ‘narnas, look!

Dame Hilda: I know, dear, I put it under the ‘narnas.

Maud: I say, it is a clever little thing, innit​?  I’ve a mind to get one of these meself.

Dame Hilda: Why, dear, you have trouble finding your keys?

Maud: Not fer me keys, Dame ‘ilda, fer me canary.

Dr. Hinge: Do you trouble finding your canary.

Maud: Why no, Doctor. I mean to ‘ang in his little cage, be summat for ‘im to talk to, wouldn't it?

Dame Hilda: Perhaps you should put one in your chicken house too, Maud, then you might not get so many addled eggs.

Dr. Hinge: How on earth do you make that out?

Dame Hilda: Well, I notice it says on the instruction leaflet, that with one of those you'll no longer have problems through things being mislaid.

Dame Hilda: Well, I must say that since that day, I have never had to search very far for my keyring. Though I finally gave up searching for my keys. Luckily, Evadne had a set, so I was able to get duplicates made. Mind you, the little bleeper does have disadvantages. I had to come out of a James Galway concert, well, his flute kept setting it off, and I had a rather curious experience in the park, when I realised I’d dropped my keys somewhere and began retracing my steps, whistling all the way. The park keeper thought I was after him, and he gave me some very saucy winks. And I ended up surrounded by dogs of every shape and size, and two sailors dancing a horn pipe. My goodness, I made some new friends that morning, and then came the afternoon when I settled in my armchair at the old manse, and I set about changing my batteries.

Dr. Hinge: Would you like me to do that for you, Hilda?

Dame Hilda: No, thank you, Evadne. I'm quite capable.

Dr. Hinge: Very well, please yourself.

Dame Hilda: How do you get this back off?

Dr. Hinge: You don't have to get the back off, just the little panel at the bottom.

Dame Hilda: Well, how do you get that off, then?

Dr. Hinge: Oh, give it here.

Dame Hilda: No, no, just tell me.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, why do you think it's got an arrow on it?

Dame Hilda: I don't know, was it made by Red Indians?

Dr. Hinge: Hilda, the arrow is to tell you in which direction to slide the panel.

Dame Hilda: Then they’ve put it on the wrong way round.

Dr. Hinge: Oh, don't be ridiculous.

Dame Hilda: Well, I can't open it!

Dr. Hinge: Well, give it here.

Dame Hilda: No, Evadne. I will not be dependent on you.

Dr. Hinge: Not be dependent, bit late for that, isn't it? Who does all the practical jobs in this house? Who mends the fuses?

Dame Hilda: You do.

Dr. Hinge: Who changes the light bulbs?

Dame Hilda: You do.

Dr. Hinge: Who puts electric plugs on things, unblocks the sink, replaces slates, clears out the gutters?

Dame Hilda: You do. But who holds the ladder when you're up it?

Dr. Hinge: Well, nine times out of ten nobody does.

Dame Hilda: Ah, but when somebody does, it's me. Now, how do you get the back of these things?

Dr. Hinge: Just place your thumb on the little panel, Hilda, push it gently down and slide it in the direction indicated by the arrow.

Dame Hilda: Oh, I see, there's nothing to it, is there?

Dr. Hinge: Absolutely nothing.

Dame Hilda: And yet there are people who find technology baffling.

Dr. Hinge: So I believe.

Dame Hilda: What do I do now?

Dr. Hinge: You take out your old batteries.

Dame Hilda: Yes.

Dr. Hinge: And you put in the new ones.

Dame Hilda: Which way up, dear?

Dr. Hinge: The same way up as the old ones were.

Dame Hilda: Oh, I wish you'd said that before I taken my old ones out.

Dr. Hinge: Give it here!

Dame Hilda: Now look what you've done, snatching it like that, that's one of my new batteries you've just sent rolling across the floor.

Dr. Hinge: Well, you can pick it up, can't you?

Dame Hilda: If I knew where it had gone, yes. It went under your chair, I think.

Dr. Hinge: And I suppose you want me to move my chair, do you?

Dame Hilda: I want you to find my battery.

Dr. Hinge: You weren't independent for very long, were you?

Dame Hilda: Well, you lost it.

Dr. Hinge: Anyway, it's not under the chair.

Dame Hilda: Well, it must have come out to the other side, dear. I thought I heard it roll off the carpet onto the floorboard somewhere.

Dr. Hinge: Now, she tells me.

Dame Hilda: It's probably behind the desk. It’s a pity they don't have bleepers on the batteries, isn't it?

Dr. Hinge: Well, get hold of the other end of the desk then, we'll move it out.

Dame Hilda: Right. From you to me, or whatever it is they say when they're moving these sort of things.

{Clatter!}

Dr. Hinge: What was that?

Dame Hilda: Oh, good heavens. Evadne, look there on the floor, dear, it's my old bunch of keys.

Dr. Hinge: What? 

Dame Hilda: And I think I can see my battery too.

Dr. Hinge: Where?

Dame Hilda: There, down in that gap between those broken floorboards, there, see it. What can we fish it out with, you haven't got your button hook handy, have you?

Dr. Hinge: It's far too deep for that. That bit of board there is loose anyway, stand aside, I'll have it up.

Dame Hilda: Oh, I hate it when you start having things up.

Dr. Hinge: Goodness gracious, the stuff that’s under this floorboard.

Dame Hilda: I recognise that little plastic elephant, that came out of my cracker at Christmas.

Dr. Hinge: And here's your blessed battery.

Dame Hilda: Thank you. Don't leave my little elephant there, will you?

Dr. Hinge: Do you want the pieces of old jigsaw and the tiddly wink as well?

Dame Hilda: Well, you may as well bring them out, dear, we won't be tiddly winking down there.

Dr. Hinge: I say, this next board is loose as well. Well, I never did, just look what’s pushed under the floor here?

Dame Hilda: What is it?

Dr. Hinge: It's my last.

Dame Hilda: Your last what?

Dr. Hinge: Cobbler's last! 

Dame Hilda: How on earth did it get in there?

Dame Hilda: Well, it can't have slipped through the crack.

Dr. Hinge: I'd given it up for lost.

Dame Hilda: A big thing like that?

Dr. Hinge: Well, I shall be able to repair my shoes properly now. Thank goodness I found it.

Dame Hilda: You can thank my little bleeper, dear. Perhaps I should get you one to put on that thing of yours. No, come to think of it, I'll have to get you a tube of that superglue.

Dr. Hinge: What would be the point of that?

Dame Hilda: When you know what they always say, dear. The cobbler should stick to his last.

Transcribed by Lorraine Taylor