The Farmer is now the veteran of two major pieces of bionic surgery. Both are about the same cost. The knee was done in a private hospital and the hip on the National Health Service. So how did the two experiences compare?

But before that, I must tell you today's disastrous news. The farm next door, after which the Farmer has lusted for 50 years, and for which Potions was the underbidder, has at last come under the plough.

The peasant's greatest wish is to buy the farm next door, and having failed, his greatest wish is that the next generation manage it. Despite the fact that it is a month since bids were opened and closed, Potions had not been told that all is lost and there was no sign of action by the new owners. The underbidder couldn't help hoping that the deal would fall through.

Then last Thursday the ploughs arrived. Late, but not too late, our new neighbour is putting in his malting barley. We wish him luck and he'll need it. It will take a good yield and a good price from the maltsters to justify £6000 an acre.

So, is it better to go private or National Health? I was brought up a socialist, believing that health should be a matter of satisfying need and that you should take your place in the queue, however well-off you are. I have always resisted the temptations of the suited BUPA salesmen with their insurance policies for queue-dodgers. So how did I come to be paying for the knee three years ago?

Well, I was in the NHS queue. I had been there for some five months, which didn't seem too bad as my knee, though unsightly, sticking away out to the side and making me bandy in one leg, wasn't sore. But when I went to see the surgeon the receptionist took a look at my letter and said: "I'm afraid you've come on the wrong day, Mr Allan."

"Oh no I haven't," said the indignant Farmer. "I looked at the date before I left home. 24th December, it said."

"That's right but it's the 24th December next year."

I was humiliated and furious. The socialist principles went right out the window. If I had to spend the money the kids were relying on getting one day, so what? I wasn't for waiting another year for an appointment. I told my GP to get me a private appointment and not to ask the price. Maybe I should have asked. It turned out to be £9400 for the operation but that was just a start. Each sight of the surgeon cost three figures extra and so did the X-rays. The bill so far is £10,700.

So on financial grounds the NHS was bound to win. So far as I can remember there were no charges for anything.

But what did I get for my ten grand? Did I get a better service? Was the private hospital cleaner? Was the food better? Were the staff better at consoling and pampering an old mannie?

Well the first point of comparison was in the preparation of my home for my return from the hospital. The NHS sent a worker out to see that my home was suitable for an invalid. She fitted a high seat with handrails to the toilet. A man came and raised my bed six inches so that my sore leg wouldn't have to lower me any farther than necessary. When I got home I asked where I could get a monkey pole to fix above my bed so I could heave myself up with my arms, it was delivered that same afternoon and without charge. Perhaps I could have had that from the NHS even when I was "private".

The private alternative provided none of that. When I got home from the private hospital the Breadwinner had to prop up my bed on volumes of old Farmer's Diaries, four to each leg.

I am spoiled by the Breadwinner, who cooks excellent meals of at least two courses twice a day, so there was no way hospital food was going to please me. The private food had fancy names but both diets were pretty awful and I wouldn't like to choose between them ever again.

Cleanliness was never my strong point but both hospitals seemed very clean to me. Both lots of staff were very sympathetic, obliging and cheery.

One amenity which my private hospital did offer, which would have had great value for some, was an individual room and a telly. But with the NHS I was in a ward with two other old mannies and we had no television, which I thought was first rate. (I do like to watch Channel 4's 7pm news programme and I was able to watch that in the common room.) Bill and John were good crack and we got on very well. Had it been otherwise, the room to myself would have been a huge plus for the private care.

So, really, all I got for my ten grand was a reduction in waiting time. It wasn't worth sacrificing my parents' principles. Next time I will queue up and complain if the wait seems unreasonable.

While I am not yet ready to take my place in the MCC second IV, I have to say that the hip seems to be a great success. I take the Bread-winner for a walk of more than a mile each day. We go one telephone pole farther each day so we'll be at Auchnagatt (six miles) before we know it.