 Cast in Prologue of the Voyages of Dr. Doolittle by Hugh Loftin. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Characters of the Story Dr. Doolittle. Recorded by Mark Phillips. Tommy Stubbins. Read by DeVora Erlen. Polynesia the Parrot. Read by Beth Thomas. Jip. Read by Rich Brown. Chichi. The Monkey. Read by Jasmine Selma. Dap-dap. Read by Like Many Waters. Prince Bumbo Kabubo. Read by T.J. Burns. Long Isle. Read by Jillian Hendry. Matthew Mug. Read by Nima. Joe. Read by Michael Jarvis. Colonel Bellows. Read by Philip Gould. Mr. Stubbins. Read by Jillian Hendry. Mrs. Stubbins. Read by Lian Yao. The Schoolboy. Read by Susan Thurman. Luke Thurmot. Read by Philip Gould. Policemen. Read by Kay Hand. Bob. Read by Eva Davis. Mr. Percy Jenkins. Read by Trisha G. The Honorable Hustis Beauchamp Conkley. Read by phone. Prosecution Lawyer. Read by Michael Jarvis. Audience Woman. Read by Suranimous Nerd. Mrs. Luke. Read by Susan Thurman. Juryman. Read by Kay Hand. Cheapside. Read by Eva Davis. Miranda. The Purple Bird of Paradise. Read by Sonia. Ben Butcher. Able Seaman. Read by Son of the Exiles. Dawn in the Rique. Read by Philip Gould. Spanish Boy. Read by Kay Hand. Pepito Malagra. Read by Bill Mosley. Corralt Woman. Read by Suranimous Nerd. The Silver Fidget. Read by Leannia. Popuses. Read by Eva Maria and Zoe Tran. Popsipital One. Read by Susan Thurman. Popsipetal Two. Read by Kay Hand. Buck Jack Direct Chief. Read by phone. Popsipetal Elder. Read by Bill Mosley. Narrated by Larry Wilson. Prologue. All that I have written so far about Dr. Doolittle, I heard long after it happened from those who had known him. Indeed a great deal of it took place before I was born. But I now come to set down that part of the great man's life which I myself saw and took part in. Many years ago the doctor gave me permission to do this. But we were both of us so busy then voyaging around the world, having adventures and filling notebooks full of natural history that I never seemed to get time to sit down and write of our doings. Now of course when I am quite an old man, my memory isn't so good anymore. But whenever I am in doubt and have to hesitate and think, I always ask Polynesia the parrot. That wonderful bird, she is now nearly 250 years old, sits on the top of my desk, usually humming sailor songs to herself while I write this book. And as everyone who has ever met her knows, Polynesia's memory is the most marvelous memory in the world. If there is any happening I am not quite sure of, she is always able to put me right, to tell me exactly how it took place, who was there, and everything about it. In fact sometimes I almost think I ought to say that this book was written by Polynesia instead of me. Very well then, I will begin. And first of all I must tell you something about myself and how I came to meet the doctor. End of Prologue. Part 1, chapters 1-3 of the voyages of Dr. Doolittle by Hugh Lofty. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Part 1. Chapter 1, The Cobbler Son. My name was Tommy Stubbins, son of Jacob Stubbins, the cobbler of Puttleby on the marsh, and I was nine and a half years old. At that time Puttleby was only quite a small town. A river ran through the middle of it, and over this river there was a very old stone bridge called King's Bridge, which led you from the marketplace on one side to the churchyard on the other. Sailing ships came up this river from the sea and anchored near the bridge. I used to go down and watch the sailors unloading the ships upon the river wall. The sailor sang strange songs as they pulled upon the ropes. I learned these songs by heart, and I would sit on the river wall with my feet dangling over the water and sing them with the men, pretending to myself that I too was a sailor. For I longed always to sell away with those brave ships when they turned their backs on Puttleby Church and went creeping down the river again across the wide, lonely marshes to the sea. I longed to go with them out into the world to seek my fortune in foreign lands, Africa, India, China, and Peru. But when they got round the bend in the river and the water was hidden from view, you could still see their huge brown sails towering over the roofs of the town, moving onward slowly, like some gentle giants that walked among the houses without noise. What strange things would they have seen, I wondered, when next they came back to anchor at Kingsbridge. And dreaming of the lands I had never seen, I'd sit there watching till they were out of sight. Three great friends I had in Puttleby in those days. One was Joe, the muscle man, who lived in a tiny hut by the edge of the water under the bridge. This old man was simply marvelous at making things. I never saw a man so clever with his hands. He used to mend my toy ships for me, which I sailed upon the river. He built windmills out of packing cases and barrel staves, and he could make the most wonderful kites from old umbrellas. Joe would sometimes take me to the muscle boat, and when the tide was running out, we would paddle down the river as far as the edge of the sea to get muscles and lobsters to sell. And out there on the cold lonely marshes, we would see wild geese flying and curlews and red shanks and many other kinds of seabirds that live among the samfire and the long grass of the great salt fenn. And as we crept up the river in the evening, when the tide had turned, we would see the light-sunk Kingbridge twinkle in the dusk, reminding us of tea time and warm fires. Another friend I had was Matthew Mug, the cat's meat man. He was a funny old person with a bad squint. He looked rather awful, but was really quite nice to talk to. He knew everybody in Puttleby, and he knew all the dogs and all the cats. In those times, being a cat's meat man was a regular business, and you could see one nearly any day going through the streets with a wooden tray full of pieces of meat stuck on skewers crying. Meat. Meat. People paid him to give his meat to their cats and dogs instead of feeding them on dog biscuits or the scraps from the table. I enjoyed going round with old Matthew and seeing the cats and dogs come running to the guarding gates whenever they heard his call. Sometimes he let me give the meat to the animals myself, and I thought this was great fun. He knew a lot about dogs, and he would tell me the names of the different kinds as we went through the town. He knew all the dogs of his own. One a whippet was a very fast runner, and Matthew used to win prizes with her at the Saturday coursing races. Another ataria was a fine rattler. The cat's meat man used to make a business of rat-catching for the millers and farmers as well as his other trade of selling cat's meat. My third great friend was Luke the Hermit, but of him I will tell you more later on. I did not go to school because my father was not rich enough to send me, but I was extremely fond of animals. So I used to spend my time collecting bird's eggs and butterflies, fishing in the river, rambling through the countryside after blackberries and mushrooms, and helping the muscle man mend his nets. Yes, it was a very pleasant life I lived in those days long ago, though of course I did not think so then. I was nine and a half years old, and like all boys I wanted to grow up, not knowing how well off I was with no cares and nothing to worry me. Always I longed for the time when I should be allowed to leave my father's house to take passage on one of those brave ships to sail down the river through the misty marshes to the sea, out into the world to seek my fortune. Chapter 2 I Hear the Great Naturalist One early morning in the springtime when I was wandering among the hills at the back of the town, I happened to come upon a hawk with a squirrel in its claws. It was standing on a rock and the squirrel was fighting very hard for its life. The hawk was so frightened when I came upon it suddenly like this that it dropped the poor creature and flew away. I picked the squirrel up and found that two of its legs were badly hurt, so I carried it in my arms back to the town. When I came to the bridge I went into the muscle man's hut and asked him if he could do anything for it. Joel put on his spectacles and examined it carefully, then shook his head. Young critters got a broken leg, he said, and another badly cut and all. I can mend you your boats, Tom, but I haven't the tools nor the learning to make a broken squirrel sea-weavy. This is a job for a surgeon and for a right smart one and all. There'd be only one man I know who could save young critters life, and that's John Doolittle. Who is John Doolittle? I asked. Is he a vet? No, said the muscle man. He's no vet. Dr. Doolittle is a naturalist. What's a naturalist? A naturalist. Said Joel, putting away his glasses and starting to fill his pipe. Is a man who knows all about animals and butterflies and plants and rocks and all. John Doolittle is a very great naturalist. I'm surprised you've never heard of him and you doubt over animals. He knows a whole lot about selfish, that I know from my own knowledge. He's a quiet man and don't talk much, but there's folks who do say he's the greatest naturalist in the world. Where does he live? I asked. Over the oxen-thrope road to the side of the town. Don't know just which house it is, but most anyone across there can tell you, I reckon. Go and see him. He's a great man. So I thanked the muscle man, took up my squirrel again and started off towards the oxen-thrope road. The first thing I heard as I came into the marketplace was someone calling, Meet. Meet. There's Matthew Mug. I said to myself, He'll know where this doctor lives. Matthew knows everyone. So I heard across the marketplace and caught him up. Matthew. I said. Do you know Dr. Doolittle? Do I know John Doolittle? Said he. Well, I should think I do. I know him as well as I know my own wife better. I sometimes think he's a great man, a very great man. Can you show me where he lives? I asked. I want to take this squirrel to him. It has a broken leg. Certainly. Said the cat's meat man. I'll be going right by his house directly. Come along and I'll show you. So off we went together. Oh, I've known John Doolittle for years and years. Said Matthew as we made our way out of the marketplace. But I'm pretty sure he ain't home just now. He's away on a voyage. But he's liable to be back any day. I'll show you his house and then you'll know where to find him. All the way down the oxenthrope road, Matthew hardly stopped talking about his great friend, Dr. John Doolittle, indeed. He talked so much that he forgot all about calling out. Meat! Until we both suddenly noticed that we had a whole procession of dogs following us patiently. Where did the doctor go to on this voyage? I asked as Matthew handed round the meat to them. I couldn't tell you. He answered. Nobody never knows where he goes. Nor when he's going. Nor when he's coming back. He lives all alone except for his pets. He's made some great voyages and some wonderful discoveries. Last time he came back he told me he'd found a tribe of red Indians in the Pacific Ocean. Lived on two islands they did. The husbands lived on one island and the wives lived on the other. Sensible people, some of them savages. They only met once a year when the husbands came over to visit the wives for a great feast, Christmas time, most likely. Yes, he's a wonderful man, is the doctor. And as for animals, well there ain't no one knows as much about him as what he does. How did he get to know so much about animals? I asked. The cat's meat man stopped and leaked it down to whisper in my ear. He talks their language. He said in a hoarse, mysterious voice. The animal's language. I cried. Why, certainly, said Matthew. All animals have some kind of a language. Some sorts talk more than others. Some only speak in sign language, like deaf and dumb. But the doctor, he understands them all. Birds as well as animals. We keep it a secret, though, him and me, because folks only laugh at you when you speak of it. Why, he can even write animal language. He reads aloud to his pets. He's wrote history books and monkey talk, poetry and canary language, and comic songs from magpies to sing. It's a fact. He's now busy learning the language of the shellfish. But he says it's hard work and he's caught some terrible colds holding his head under water so much. He's a great man. He certainly must be. I said. I do wish he were home so I could meet him. Well, there's his house. Look. Said the cat's meat man. That little one at the bend in the road there. The one high up, like it was sitting on the wall above the street. We were now come beyond the edge of the town and the house that Matthew pointed out was quite a small one standing by itself. There seemed to be a big garden around it and this garden was much higher than the road so you had to go up a flight of steps in the wall before you reached the front gate at the top. I could see that there were many fine fruit trees in the garden for their branches hung down over the wall in places. But the wall was so high I could not see anything else. When we reached the house Matthew went up the steps to the front gate and I followed him. I thought he was going to go into the garden but the gate was locked. A dog came running down from the house and he took several pieces of meat which the cat's meat man pushed through the bars of the gate and some paper bags full of corn and bran. I noticed that this dog did not stop to eat the meat as any ordinary dog would have done but he took all the things back to the house and disappeared. He had a curious white collar around his neck which looked as though it were made of brass or something. Then we came away. The doctor isn't back yet, said Matthew, or the gate wouldn't be locked. What were all those things in paper bags you gave the dog? I asked. Oh, those were provisions. Said Matthew. Things for the animals to eat. The doctor's house is simply full of pets. I give the things to the dog while the doctor's away and the dog gives them to the other animals. What was that curious collar he was wearing around his neck? That's a solid gold dog collar. Said Matthew. It was given to him when he was with the doctor on one of his voyages long ago. He saved a man's life. How long has the doctor had him? I asked. Oh, a long time. Chip's getting pretty old now. That's why the doctor doesn't take him on his voyages anymore. He leaves him behind to take care of the house. Every Monday and Thursday I bring the food to the gate here and give it him through the bars. He never lets anyone come inside the garden while the doctor's away. Not even me. Though he knows me well, but you'll always be able to tell if the doctor's back or not. Because if he is, the gate will surely be open. So I went off home to my father's house and put my squirrel to bed in an old wooden box full of straw. And there I nursed him myself and took care of him as best I could till the time should come when the doctor would return. And every day I went to the little house with the big garden on the edge of the town and tried the gate to see if it were locked. Sometimes the dog, Chip, would come down to the gate to meet me. But though he always wagged his tail and seemed glad to see me, never let me come inside the garden. Chapter 3 The Doctor's Home One Monday afternoon towards the end of April my father asked me to take some shoes which he had mended to a house on the other side of town. They were for Colonel Bellows, who was very particular. I found a house and rang the bell at the front door. The Colonel opened it, stuck out a very red face and said, Go round to the tradesman's entrance. Go to the back door. Then he slammed the door shut. I felt inclined to throw the shoes in the middle of his flower bed. But I thought my father might be angry so I didn't. I went round to the back door and there the Colonel's wife met me and took the shoes from me. She looked at him at a little woman and had her hands all over flower as though she were making bread. She seemed to be terribly afraid of her husband whom I could still hear stomping round the house somewhere, grunting indignantly because I had come to the front door. She asked me in a whisper if I would have a bun and a glass of milk. And I said, Yes, please. After I had eaten the bun and milk I thanked the Colonel's wife and came away. Then I thought that before I went home I would go and see if the doctor had come back yet. I had been to his house once already that morning but I thought I'd just like to go and take another look. My squirrel wasn't getting any better and I was beginning to be worried about him. So I turned into the oxenthorpe road and started off towards the doctor's house. On the way I noticed that the sky was clouding over and that it looked as though it might rain. I reached the gate and found it still locked. I felt very discouraged. I had been coming here every day for a week now. The dog-jip came to the gate and wagged his tail as usual and then sat down and watched me closely to see that I didn't get in. I began to fear that my squirrel would die before the doctor came back. I turned away sadly, went down the steps onto the road and turned towards home again. I wondered if it were separate time yet. Of course I had no watch of my own but I noticed a gentleman coming towards me down the road and when he got nearer I saw that it was the Colonel out for a walk. He was all wrapped up in smart overcoats and white-colored gloves. It was not a very cold day but he had so many clothes on he looked like a pillow inside of a roll of blankets. I asked him if he would please tell me the time. He stopped grunted and glared down at me. His red face growing redder still and when he spoke it sounded like the cork coming out of a ginger-beer bottle. Do you imagine for one moment... He spluttered. Did I am going to get myself all unbuttoned just to tell a little boy like you the time? And he went stomping down the street grunting harder than ever. I stood still a moment looking after him and wondering how old I would have to be to have him go to the trouble of getting his watch out. And then all of a sudden the rain came down in torrents. I have never seen it rain so hard. It got dark almost like night. The wind began to blow. The thunder rolled. The lightning flashed. And in a moment the gutters of the road were flowing like a river. There was no place handy to take shelter so I put my head down against the driving wind and started to run towards home. I hadn't gone very far when my head bumped into something soft and I sat down suddenly on the pavement. I looked up to see whom I had run into and there in front of me sitting on the wet pavement like myself was a little round man with a very kind face. He wore a shabby high hat and in his hand he had a small black bang. I'm very sorry. I said. I had my head down and I didn't see you coming. To my great surprise, instead of getting angry at being knocked down the little man began to laugh. Ha ha ha ha! You know this reminds me. He said. Of a time once when I was in India I ran full tilt into a woman in a thunderstorm but she was carrying a picture of molasses on her head and I had treacle in my hair for weeks afterwards the flies followed me everywhere. I didn't hurt you did I? No. I said. I'm alright. It was just as much my fault as it was yours you know. Said the little man. I had my head down too but look here we mustn't sit talking like this you must be soaked. I know I am. How far have you got to go? My home is on the other side of the town. I said as we picked ourselves up. My goodness but that was a wet pavement. Said he. And I declare it's coming down worse than ever. Come along to my house and get dried a storm like this can't last. He took hold of my hand and we started running back down the road together. As we ran I began to wonder who this funny little man could be and where he lived. I was a perfect stranger to him and yet he was taking me to his own home to get dried. Such a change after the old red-faced colonel who had refused even to tell me the time. Presently we stopped. Here we are. He said. I looked up to see where we were and found myself back at the foot of the steps leading to the little white house with the big garden. My new friend was already running up the steps and opening the gate with some keys he took from his pocket. Surely. I thought. This cannot be the great Doctor Dolittle himself. I suppose after hearing so much about him I had expected someone very tall and strong and marvelous. It was hard to believe that this funny little man with the kind smiley face could be really he. Yet here he was sure enough running up the steps and opening the very gate which I had been watching for so many days. The dog-jip came rushing out and started jumping up on him and barking with happiness. The rain was splashing down heavier than ever. Are you Doctor Dolittle? I shouted as we sped up the short garden path to the house. Yes. I'm Doctor Dolittle. Said he opening the front door with the same bunch of keys. Get in. Don't bother about wiping your feet. Mud take it in with you. Get in out of the rain. I popped in, he and Jip following. Then he slammed the door behind us. The storm had made it dark enough outside. But inside the house with the door closed it was as black as night. Then began the most extraordinary noise that I have ever heard. It sounded like all sorts of kinds of animals and birds calling and squeaking and screeching at the same time. I could hear things trembling down the stairs and hurrying along passages. Somewhere in the dark a duck was quacking. A cock was crowing. A dove was cooing. An owl was hooting. A lamb was bleating and Jip was barking. I felt birds wings fluttering and fanning near my face. Things kept bumping into my legs and nearly upsetting me. The whole front hall seemed to be filling up with animals. The noise together with the roaring of the rain was tremendous and I was beginning to grow a little scared when I felt the doctor take hold of my arm and shout into my ear. Don't be alarmed. Don't be frightened. These are just some of my pets. I've been away three months and they are glad to see me home again. Stand still where you are till I strike a light. My gracious, what a storm! Just listen to that thunder. So there I stood in the pitch-black dark, while all kinds of animals which I couldn't see chattered and jostled around me. It was a curious and a funny feeling. I had often wondered when I had looked in from the front gate what Dr. Doolittle would be like and what the funny little house would have incited. But I never imagined it would be anything like this. Yet somehow after I had felt the doctor's hand upon my arm it was not frightened, only confused. It all seemed like some queer dream and I was beginning to wonder if I was really awake when I heard the doctor speaking again. My blessed matches are all wet. They won't strike. Have you got any? No, I'm afraid I haven't. I called back. Never mind, said he. Perhaps Dab-Dab can raise us a light somewhere. Then the doctor made some funny clicking noises with his tongue and I heard someone trundle up the stairs again and start moving round in the rooms above. We waited quite a while without anything happening. Will the light be long in coming? I asked. Some animal is sitting on my foot and my toes are going to sleep. No, only a minute. Said the doctor. She'll be back in a minute. And just then I saw the first glimmerings of a light around the landing above. Once all the animals kept quiet. I thought you lived alone. I said to the doctor. So I do. Said he. It is Dab-Dab who is bringing the light. I looked up the stairs trying to make out who was coming. I could not see around the landing but I heard the most curious footstep on the upper flight. It sounded like someone hopping down from one step to the other as though he were using only one leg. As the light came lower, it grew brighter and began to throw strange jumping shadows on the walls. Ah, at last! Said the doctor. Good old Dab-Dab. And then I thought I really must be dreaming. For there, craning her neck round the bend of the landing, hopping down the stairs on one leg, came a spotless white duck and in her right foot she carried a lighted candle. End of part one, chapter three. Part one, chapters four through six, of the voyages of Dr. Doolittle by Hugh Loftin. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter four, the whiff-whap. When at last I could look around me, I found that the hall was indeed simply full of animals. It seemed to me that almost every kind of creature from the countryside must be there. A pigeon, a white rat, an owl, a badger, a jack-daw. There was even a small pig just in from the rainy garden, carefully wiping his feet on the mat while the light from the candle glistened on his wet pink back. The doctor took the candlestick from the duck and turned to me. Look here! He said, You must get those wet clothes off. By the way, what is your name? Tommy Stubbins. I said, Oh! Your son of Jacob Stubbins, the shoemaker? Yes. I said, Excellent bootmaker, your father? Said the doctor. You see these? And he held up his right foot to show me the enormous boots he was wearing. Your father made these boots four years ago, and I've been wearing them ever since. Perfectly wonderful boots. Well now, look here, Stubbins. You've got to change those wet things and quick. Wait a moment till I get some more candles lit, and then we'll go upstairs and find some dry clothes. You'll have to wear an old suit of mine till we can get yours dry again by the kitchen fire. So presently, when more candles had been lighted round different parts of the house, we went upstairs, and when we had come into a bedroom, the doctor opened a big wardrobe and took out two suits of old clothes. These we put on. Then we carried our wet ones down to the kitchen and started a fire in the big chimney. The coat of the doctors, which I was wearing, was so large for me, that I kept treading on my own coattails while I was helping to fetch the wood up from the cellar. But very soon we had a huge big fire blazing up the chimney, and we hung our wet clothes around on chairs. Now, let's cook some supper. Said the doctor. You'll stay and have supper with me, Stubbins, of course. Already I was beginning to be very fond of this funny little man who called me Stubbins instead of Tommy, or Little Lad. I did so hate to be called Little Lad. This man seemed to begin right away treating me as though I were a grown-up friend of his, and when he asked me to stop and have supper with him, I felt terribly proud and happy. But I suddenly remembered that I had not told my mother that I would be out late. So very sadly I answered, Thank you very much. I would like to stay, but I'm afraid that my mother will begin to worry and wonder where I am if I don't get back. Oh, but my dear Stubbins. Said the doctor, throwing another log of wood on the fire. Your clothes aren't dry yet. You'll have to wait for them, won't you? By the time they are ready to put on, we will have supper cooked and eaten. Did you see where I put my bag? I think it is still in the hall, I said. I'll go and see. I found the bag near the front door. It was made of black leather and looked very, very old. One of its latches was broken, and it was tied up round the middle with a piece of string. Thank you. Said the doctor when I brought it to him. Was that bag all the luggage you had for your voyage? I asked. Yes. Said the doctors, he undid the piece of string. I don't believe in a lot of baggage. It's such a nuisance. Life's too short to fuss with it, and it isn't really necessary, you know. Where did I put those sausages? The doctor was feeling about inside the bag. First he brought out a loaf of new bread. Next came a glass jar with a curious metal top to it. He held this up to the light very carefully before he set it down upon the table, and I could see that there were some strange little water creatures swimming about inside. At last the doctor brought out a pound of sausages. Now, he said, All we want is a frying pan. We went into the scullery, and there we found some pots and pans hanging against the wall. The doctor took down the frying pan. It was quite rusty on the inside. Dear me, just look at that. Said he. That's the worst of being away so long. The animals are very good, and keep the house wonderfully clean as far as they can. Dab-dab is a perfect marvel as a housekeeper. But some things, of course, they can't manage. Never mind, we'll soon clean it up. You'll find some silver sand down there, under the sink, stubborn. Just hand it up to me, will you? In a few moments we had the pan all shiny and bright, and the sausages were put over the kitchen fire, and a beautiful frying smell went all through the house. While the doctor was busy at the cooking, I went and took another look at the funny little creatures you mean about in the glass jar. What is this animal? I asked. Oh, that! Said the doctor, turning round. That's a whiffwaf. Its full name is Hippocampus Pepitopitis. But the natives just called it a whiffwaf, on account of the way it waves its tail. Swimming, I imagine. That's what I went on this last voyage for, to get that. You see, I'm very busy just now trying to learn the language of the shellfish. They have languages of that, I feel sure. I can talk a little shark language and porpoise dialect myself, but what I particularly want to learn now is shellfish. Why? I asked. Well, you see, some of the shellfish are the oldest kind of animals in the world that we know of. We find their shells in the rocks turned to stone, thousands of years old. So I feel quite sure that if I could only get to talk their language, I should be able to learn a whole lot about what the world was like ages and ages and ages ago, you see. But couldn't some of the other animals tell you as well? I don't think so. Said the doctor, prodding the sausages with a fork. To be sure, the monkeys I knew in Africa some time ago were very helpful in telling me about bygone days, but they only went back a thousand years or so. No, I am certain that the oldest history in the world is to be had from the shellfish and from them only. You see, most of the other animals that were alive in those very ancient times have now become extinct. Have you learned any shellfish language yet? I asked. No, I've only just begun. I wanted this particular kind of a pipefish because he is half a shellfish and half an ordinary fish. I went all the way to the eastern Mediterranean after him, but I'm very much afraid he isn't going to be a great deal of help to me. To tell you the truth, I'm rather disappointed in his appearance. He doesn't look very intelligent, does he? No, he doesn't. I agreed. Ah! said the doctor. The sausages are done to a turn. Come along, hold your plate near and let me give you some. Then we sat down at the kitchen table and started a hearty meal. It was a wonderful kitchen, that. I had many meals there afterwards and I found it a better place to eat in than the grandest dining room in the world. It was so cozy and home-like and warm. It was so handy for the food, too. You took it right off the fire, hot and put it on the table and ate it. And you could watch your toast toasting at the fender and see it didn't burn while you drank your soup. And if you had forgotten to put the salt on the table, you didn't have to get up and go into another room to fetch it. You just reached round and took the big wooden box off the dresser behind you. The fireplace, the biggest fireplace you ever saw, was like a room in itself. You could get right inside it even when the logs were burning and sit on the wide seats, either side and roast chestnuts after the meal was over. Or listen to the kettle singing or tell stories or look at picture books by the light of the fire. It was a marvelous kitchen. It was like the doctor. Comfortable, sensible, friendly and solid. While we were gobbling away, the door suddenly opened and in March the duck dab-dab and the dog jipped, dragging sheets and pillowcases behind them over the clean tile floor. The doctor seen how surprised I was explained. They're just going to air the bedding for me in front of the fire. Dab-dab is the perfect treasurer of a housekeeper. She'd never forget anything. I had a sister once who used to keep house for me. Poor dear Sarah, I wonder how she's getting on. I haven't seen her in many years. But she wasn't nearly as good as Dab-dab. Have another sausage. The doctor turned and said a few words to the dog and duck in some strange talk and silence. They seemed to understand him perfectly. Can you talk in squirrel language? I asked. Oh yes, that's quite an easy language. Said the doctor. You could learn that yourself without a great deal of trouble. But why do you ask? Because I have a sick squirrel at home. I said. I took it away from a hawk, but two of its legs are badly hurt and I wanted very much to have you see it if you would. Shall I bring it tomorrow? Well, if its leg is badly broken, I think I'd better see it tonight. It may be too late to do much, but I'll come home with you and take a look at it. So presently we felt the close by fire and mine were found to be quite dry. I took them upstairs to the bedroom and changed, and when I came down the doctor was already waiting for me with his little back-bag full of medicines and bandages. Come along. He said. The rain has stopped now. Outside it had grown bright again and the evening sky was all red with the setting sun and thrushes were singing in the garden as we opened the gate to go down to the road. Chapter 5 Polynesia I think your house is the most interesting house I was ever in. I said as we set off in the direction of the town. May I come and see you again tomorrow? Certainly, said the doctor. Come any day you like. Tomorrow I'll show you the garden and my private zoo. Oh, have you a zoo? I asked. The larger animals are too big for the house so I keep them in a zoo in the garden. It is not a very big collection but it is interesting in its way. It must be splendid. I said. To be able to talk all the languages of the different animals do you think I could ever learn to do it? Oh, surely, said the doctor. With practice you have to be very patient, you know. You really ought to have Polynesia statue. It was she who gave me my first lessons. Who is Polynesia? I asked. Polynesia was a West African parrot I had. She isn't with me anymore now. Said the doctor sadly. Why? Is she dead? Oh, no. Said the doctor. She is still living, I hope. But when we reached Africa she seemed so glad to get back to her own country. She went for joy. And when the time came for me to come back here I had not the heart to take her away from that sunny land. Although it is true she did offer to come. I left her in Africa. Ah, well. I have missed her terribly. She wept again when we left but I think I did the right thing. She was one of the best friends I ever had. It was she who first gave me the idea of learning the animal languages and becoming an animal doctor. I often wonder if she remained happy in Africa and whether I shall ever see her funny old solemn face again. Good old Polynesia. A most extraordinary bird. Well, well. Just at that moment we heard the noise of someone running behind us. And turning round we saw Jep the dog rushing down the road after us as fast as his legs could bring him. He seemed very excited about something. And as soon as he came up to us he started barking and whining to the doctor in a peculiar way. Then the doctor, too, seemed to get all worked up and began talking and making queer signs to the dog. At length he turned to me, his face shiny with happiness. Polynesia has come back. He cried. Imagine it. Jep says she just arrived at the house. My! And it's five years since I saw her. Excuse me a minute. He turned as if to go back home but the parrot Polynesia was already flying towards us. The doctor clapped his hands like a child getting a new toy while the swarm of sparrows in the roadway fluttered, gossiping, up on the fences. Highly scandalized as he a gray and scarlet parrot skimming down an English lane. On she came straight on to the doctor's shoulder where she immediately began talking a steady stream in a language I could not understand. She seemed to have a terrible lot to say. And very soon the doctor had forgotten all about me and my squirrel and Jep and everything else. Till at length the bird clearly asked him something about me. Oh, excuse me, Stubbins, said the doctor. I was so interested listening to my old friend here. We must get on and see the squirrel of yours. Polynesia, this is Thomas Stubbins. The parrot on doctor's shoulder nodded gravely towards me and then to my great surprise finally in English. How do you do? I remember the night you were born. It was a terribly cold winter. You were a very ugly baby. Stubbins is anxious to learn animal language. Said the doctor. I was just telling him about you and the lessons you gave me when Jep ran up and told us you had arrived. Well, said the parrot turning to me. I may have started the doctor learning but I never could have done even that and first taught me to understand what I was saying when I spoke English. You see, many parrots can talk like a person but very few of them understand what they are saying. They just say it because, well, because they fancy it smart or because they know they will get crack as given to them. By this time we had turned and were going towards my home with Jep running in front and Polynesia still perched on the doctor's shoulder. The bird chattered incessantly mostly about Africa but now she spoke in English out of politeness to me. How is Prince Bumpo getting on? Asked the doctor. Oh, I'm glad you asked me. Said Polynesia. I almost forgot to tell you what do you think? Bumpo is in England. In England? You don't say. Guide the doctor. What on earth is he doing here? His father, the king, sent him here to a place called Bulford, I think it was, to study lessons. Bulford, Bulford. Murdered the doctor. I never heard of the place. Oh, you mean Oxford. Yes, that's the place, Oxford. Said Polynesia. I knew it had cattle in it somewhere. Oxford, that's the place he's gone to. Well, well. Murdered the doctor. Fancy Bumpo studying at Oxford. Well, well. There were great do-ings in Jolly Ginkie when he left. He was scared to death to come. He was the first man from that country to go abroad. He thought he was going to be eaten by white cannibals or something. You know what those niggers are, that ignorant well. But his father made him come. He said that all the black kings were sending their sons to Oxford now. It was the fashion, and he would have to go. Bumpo wanted to bring his six wives with him, but the king wouldn't let him go either. Poor Bumpo went off in tears, and everybody in the palace was crying too. You never heard such a hullabaloo. Do you know if he ever went back in search of the Sleeping Beauty? Asked the doctor. Oh, yes. Said Polynesia. The day after you left. And a good thing for him he did. The king got to know about his helping you to escape, and he was dreadfully wild about it. And the Sleeping Beauty. You never find her. Well, he brought back something which he said was the Sleeping Beauty. Myself, I think it was an albino niggeress. She had red hair and the biggest feet you ever saw. But Bumpo was no end pleased with her, and finally married her amid great rejoicings. The feastings lasted seven days. She became his chief wife, and is now known out there as the Crown Princess Bumpa. You accent the last syllable. And tell me, did he remain white? Only for about three months. Said the parrot. After that, his face slowly returned to its natural colour. It was just as well. He was so conspicuous in his bathing suit the way he was with his face white and the rest of him black. And how is Chi Chi getting on? Chi Chi. Added the doctor in explanation to me. Was a pet monkey I had years ago. I left him to in Africa Well... Said Polynesia, frowning. Chi Chi is not entirely happy. I saw a good deal of him the last few years. He got dreadfully homesick for you and the house and the garden. It's funny, but I was just the same way myself. You remember how crazy I was to get back to the dear old land and Africa is a wonderful country. I don't care what anybody says. Well, I thought I was going to have a perfectly grand time, but somehow I don't know. After a few weeks it seemed to get tiresome. I just couldn't seem to settle down. Well, to make a long story short, one night I made up my mind that I'd come back here and find you. So I hunted up old Chi Chi and told him about it. He said he didn't blame me a bit. Felt exactly the same way himself. Africa was so deadly quiet after the life we had led with you. He missed the stories he used to tell us out of your animal books and the chats we used to have sitting around the kitchen fire on winter nights. The animals out there were very nice to us and all that, but somehow the dear kind creatures seemed a bit stupid. Chi Chi said he had noticed it too, but I suppose it wasn't they who had changed. It was we who were different. When I left, poor old Chi Chi broke down and cried. He said he felt as though his only friend were leaving him. Though as you know, he has simply millions of relatives there. He said it didn't seem fair that I should have wings to fly over here any time I liked and him with no way to follow me. But mark my words I wouldn't be a bit surprised if he found a way to come someday. He's a smart lad, is Chi Chi. At this point we arrived at my home. My father's shop was closed and the shutters were up, but my mother was standing at the door looking down the street. Good evening Mrs. Stubbins. Said the doctor. It is my fault your son is so late. I made him stay to supper while his clothes were drying. He was soaked to the skin and so was I. We ran into one another in the storm and I insisted on his coming into my house for shelter. I was beginning to get worried about him. Said my mother. I am thankful to you sir for looking after him so well and bringing him home. Don't mention it. Said the doctor. We have had a very interesting chat. Who might it be that I have the honour of addressing? Asked my mother staring at the grey parrot perched on the doctor's shoulder. Oh, I'm John Doolittle. I daresay your husband will remember me. He made me some very excellent boots about four years ago. They really are splendid. Added the doctor gazing down at his feet with great satisfaction. The doctor has come to cure my squirrel mother. Said I. He knows all about animals. Oh, no, said the doctor. Not all, Stubbins. Not all about them by any means. It is very kind of you to come so far to look after his pet. Said my mother. Tom is always bringing home strange creatures from the woods and the fields. Is he? Said the doctor. Perhaps he will grow up to be a naturalist someday. Who knows? Won't you come in? Asked my mother. The place is a little untidy because I haven't finished the spring cleaning yet. But there's a nice fire burning in the parlor. Thank you. Said the doctor. What a charming home you have. And after wiping his enormous boots very, very carefully on the mat the great man passed into the house. Chapter 6. The Wounded Squirrel Inside we found my father busy practicing on the flute beside the fire. This he always did every evening after his work was over. The doctor immediately began talking to him about flutes and picolos and bassoons, and presently my father said, Perhaps you perform upon the flute to yourself, sir. Won't you play us a tune? Well, said the doctor. It is a long time since I touched the instrument, but I would like to know why. May I? Then the doctor took the flute from my father and played and played and played. It was wonderful. My mother and father sat as still as statues, staring up at the ceiling as though they were in church, and even I, who didn't bother much about music except on the mouth organ, even I felt all sad and cold and creepy and wished I had been a better boy. Oh, I think that was just beautiful. Side my mother, when at least the doctor stopped. You are a great musician, sir. Said my father. A very great musician. Won't you please play us something else? Why certainly. Said the doctor. Oh, but look here. I've forgotten all about the squirrel. I'll show him to you. He's upstairs in my room. So I led the doctor to my bedroom of the house and showed him the squirrel in the packing case filled with straw. The animal who had always seemed very much afraid of me, though I had tried hard to make him feel at home, sat up at once when the doctor came into the room and started to chatter. The doctor chattered back in the same way and the squirrel, when he was lifted up to have his leg examined, appeared to be rather pleased than frightened. He tried the leg up in what he called splints, which he made out of matchsticks with his pin knife. I think you will find that his leg will get better now in a very short time. The doctor said, closing up his bag. Don't let him run about for at least two weeks yet, but keep him in the open air and cover him up with dry leaves if the nights get cool. He tells me he is rather lonely here all by himself and is wondering how his wife and children are getting better. I have assured him you are a man to be trusted and I will send a squirrel who lives in my garden to find out how his family are and to bring him news of them. He must be kept cheerful at all costs. Squirrels are naturally a very cheerful, active race. It is very hard for them to lie still doing nothing, but you need and worry about him. He will be alright. Then we went back again to the parlor and my mother and father kept in playing the flute till after ten o'clock. Although my parents both liked the doctor tremendously from the first moment that they saw him and they were very proud to have him come and play to us, for we were really terribly poor. They did not realize then what a truly great man he was one day to become. Of course now, when almost everybody in the whole world has heard about Dr. Loodlittle in his books, if you were to go to that little house in Littleby, where my father had his cover shop, you would see set in the wall over the old-fashioned door a stone with writing on it which says, John Doolittle, the famous naturalist played the flute in this house in the year eighteen thirty-nine. I often look back upon that night long, long ago and if I close my eyes and think hard I can see that parlor just as it was then. A funny little man in coattails with a round kind face playing away on the flute in front of the fire. My mother on one side of him and my father on the other holding their breath and listening with their eyes shut. Myself with gyps squatting on the carpet at his feet, staring into the coals. And Polynesia perched on the mantelpiece beside his shabby high hat, gravely swinging her head from side to side in time to the music. For all just as though it were before me now. And then I remember how after we had seen the doctor out at the front door we all came back into the parlor and talked about him till it was still later. And even after I did go to bed I had never stayed up so late in my life before. I dreamed about him and a band of strange clever animals that played flutes and fiddles and drums the whole night through. End of Part 1 Chapter 6 Part 1 Chapter 7-10 of the Voidges of Dr. Doolittle by Hugh Lofty This liberal box recording is in the public domain. Chapter 7 Shellfish Talk The next morning, although I had gone to bed so late the night before, I was up frightfully early. The first sparrows were just beginning to chirp sleepily on the slates of the attic window when I jumped out of bed and scrambled into my clothes. I could hardly wait to get back to the little house with the big garden to see the doctor in his private zoo. For the first time in my life I forgot all about breakfast and creeping down the stairs on tiptoe so as not to wake my mother and father I opened the front door and popped out into the empty silent street. When I got to the doctor's gate I suddenly thought that perhaps it was too early to call on anyone and I began to wonder if the doctor would be up yet. I looked into the garden, no one seemed to be about, so I opened the gate quietly and went inside as I turned to the left to go down a path between some hedges. I heard a voice quite close to me say, Good morning, how early you are. I turned around and there sitting on the top of the private hedge was the gray parrot Polynesia. Good morning, I said. I suppose I am rather early. Is the doctor still in bed? Oh no, said Polynesia. He has been up an hour and a half. You'll find him in the house somewhere. The front door is open, just push it and go in. He's sure to be in the kitchen cooking breakfast while working in his study. Walk right in. I'm waiting to see the sunrise but upon my word I believe it's forgotten to rise. It is an awful climate this. Now, if we were in Africa the world would be blazing with sunlight at this hour of the morning. Just see that mist rolling over those cabbages. It's enough to give you rheumatism to look at it. Beastly climate, beastly. I really don't know why anything but frogs ever stay in England. Well, don't let me keep you. Run along and see the doctor. Thank you. I said. I'll go and look for him. When I opened the front door I could smell bacon frying so I made my way into the kitchen. There I discovered a large kettle boiling away over the fire and some bacon and eggs in a dish upon the heart. It seemed to me that the bacon was getting all dried up with the heat so I pulled the dish a little further away from the fire and went on through the house looking for the doctor. I found him at last in the study. I did not know then that it was called the study. It was certainly a very interesting room with telescopes and microscopes and all sorts of other strange things which I did not understand about but wished I did. Hanging on the walls were pictures of animals and fishes and strange plants and collections of bird's eggs and seashells and glass cases. The doctor was standing at the main table in his dressing-gown. At first I thought he was washing his face. He had a square glass box before him full of water. He was holding one ear under the water while he covered the other hand. As I came he stood up. Good morning, Stubbins. Said he. Going to be a nice day, don't you think? I've just been listening to the Wifwaf but he is very disappointing. Very. Why? I said. Didn't you find that he has any language at all? Oh, yes. Said the doctor. He has a language. But it is such a poor language. Only a few words like yes and no, hot and cold. That's all he can say. It's very disappointing. You see, he really belongs to two different families of fishes. I thought he was going to be tremendously helpful. Well, well. I suppose. Said I. That means he hasn't very much sense. If his language is only two or three words. Yes, I suppose it does. Possibly it is the kind of life he leads. You see, they are very rare now. These Wifwafs very rare and very solitary. They swim around in the deepest parts of the ocean entirely by themselves always alone. So I presume they really don't need to talk much. Perhaps some kind of a bigger shellfish would talk more. I said. After all, he is very small, isn't he? Yes. Said the doctor. That's true. Oh, I have no doubt that there are shellfish who are good talkers, at least out. But the big shellfish, the biggest of them, are so hard to catch. They are only to be found in the deep parts of the sea. And as they don't swim very much, but just crawl along the floor of the ocean most of the time, they are very seldom taken in nets. I do wish I could find some way of going down to the bottom of the sea. I could learn a lot if I could only do that. But we are forgetting all about breakfast. Have you had breakfast yet, Stubbins? I told the doctor that I had forgotten all about it. And he at once led the way into the kitchen. Yes. He said as he poured the hot water from the kettle into the teapot. If a man could only manage to get right down to the bottom of the sea, and live there a while, he would discover some wonderful things, things that people have never dreamed of. But men do go down, don't they? I asked. Divers and people like that? Oh yes, to be sure. Said the doctor. Divers go down. I've been down myself in a diving suit, for that matter. But my, they only go where the sea is shallow. Divers can't go down where it is really deep. What I would like to do is to go down to the great depths where it is miles deep. Well well, I dare say I shall manage it some day. Let me give you another cup of tea. Chapter 8 Are You a Good Noticer Just at that moment, the doctor came into the room and said something to the doctor in bird language. Of course I did not understand what it was, but the doctor once put down his knife and fork and left the room. You know, it is an awful shame. Said the parrot as soon as the doctor had closed the door. Directly he comes back home. All the animals over the whole countryside get to hear of it, and every sick cat and mangy rabbit for miles around comes to see him Now, there's a big fat hare outside the back door with a squawking baby. Can't you see the doctor, please? Thinks it's going to have convulsions. Stupid little things been eating deadly nightshade again, I suppose. The animals are so inconsiderate at times, especially the mothers. They come round and call the doctor away from his meals and wake him out of his bed at all hours of the night. I don't know how he stands it, really I don't. It's any peace at all. I've told him time and again to have special hours for the animals to come. But he is so frightfully kind and considerate he never refuses to see them if there is anything really wrong with them. He says the urgent cases must be seen at once. Why don't some of the animals go and see the other doctors? I asked. Ah, good gracious! Explain the parrot tossing her head scornfully. Why there aren't any other animal doctors, not real doctors. Or, of course, there are those vet persons to be sure, but bless you, they're no good. You see, they can't understand the animal's language, so how can you expect them to be of any use? Imagine yourself or your father going to see a doctor who could not understand a word you say, or even tell you in your own language what you must do to get well. Buff. Those vets. They're that stupid, you've no idea. Put the doctor's bacon down by the fire, will you? To keep hot till he comes back. Do you think I would ever be able to learn the language of the animals? I asked, lean the plate upon the harp. Well, it all depends. Said Polynesia. Are you clever at lessons? I don't know. I answered, feeling rather ashamed. You see, I've never been to school. My father is too poor to send me. Well... Said the parrot. I don't suppose you really missed much of a scene of schoolboys. But listen, are you a good noticer? Do you notice things well? I mean, for instance, supposing you saw two cock starlings on apple tree, and you only took one good look at them. Would you be able to tell one from the other if you saw them again the next day? I don't know. I said. I've never tried. Said Polynesia, brushing some crumbs off the corner of the table with her left foot. I'm afraid of observation. Noticing the small things about the birds and animals, the way they walk and move their heads and flip their wings, the way they sniff the air and twitch their whiskers and wiggle their tails. You have to notice all those little things if you want to learn animal language. For you see, lots of the animals hardly talk at all with their tongues. They use their breath or their tails or their feet instead. That is because many of them, in the olden days when lions and tigers were more plentiful, were afraid to make a noise for fear the savage creatures heard them. Birds, of course, don't care, for they always had wings to fly away with. But that is the first thing to remember. Being a good noticeer is terribly important in learning animal language. It sounds pretty hard. I said. You'll have to be very patient. Said Polynesia. It takes a long time to say even a few words properly. But if you come here often, I'll give you a few lessons myself. And once you get started, you'll be surprised how fast you get on. It would indeed be a good thing if you could learn. Because then you could do some of the work for the doctor. I mean, the easier work, like bandaging and giving pills. Yes, yes, that's a good idea of mine. It would be a great thing if the poor man could get some help and some rest. It's a scandal the way he works. I see no reason why you shouldn't be able to help him a great deal. That is, if you are really interested in animals. Oh, I'd love that. I cried. Do you think the doctor would let me? Certainly. Said Polynesia. As soon as you have learned something about doctoring, I'll speak of it to him myself. Shhh! I hear him coming back. Quick, bring his bacon back to the table. Chapter 9 The Garden of Dreams When breakfast was over the doctor took me out to show me the garden. Well, breakfast had been interesting. The garden was a hundred times more so. Of all the gardens I have ever seen, that was the most delightful, the most fascinating. At first you did not realize how big it was. You never seemed to come to the end of it. When at last you were quite sure you had seen it all, you would peer over a hedge or turn a corner or look up some steps and there was a whole new part you never expected to find. It had everything. Everything a garden can have or ever has had. There were wide wide lawns with carved stone seats, green with moss. Over the lawns hung weeping willows and their feathery bow tips brushed the velvet grass when they swung with the wind. The old flagged paths had high clipped U-hedges, either side of them, so that they looked like the narrow streets where the hedges, doorways had been made and over the doorways were shapes like vases and peacocks and half moons all trimmed out of the living trees. There was a lovely marble fish pond with golden carp and blue water lilies in it and big green frogs. A high brick wall alongside the kitchen garden was all covered with pink and yellow peaches ripening in the sun. There was a wonderful great oak hollow in the trunk, big enough inside. Many summer houses there were too. Some of wood, some of stone, and one of them was full of books to read. In a corner among some rocks and ferns was an outdoor fireplace where the doctor used to fry liver and bacon when he had a notion to take his meals in the open air. There was a couch as well on which he used to sleep. It seems on warm summer nights when the nightingales were singing at their best. It had wheels on it so that they could be moved about under any tree they sang in. But the thing that fascinated me most of all was a tiny little tree house high up in the top branches of a great elm, with a long rope ladder leading to it. The doctor told me he used it for looking at the moon and the stars through a telescope. It was the kind of a garden where you could wander and explore for days and days, always coming upon something new, always in the old spots over again. The first time I saw the doctor's garden I was so charmed by it that I felt I would like to live in it always and always and never go outside of it again. For it had everything within its walls to give happiness to make living pleasant to keep the heart at peace. It was the garden of dreams. One peculiar thing I noticed immediately I came into it and that was what a lot of birds there were about. Every tree seemed to have two or three nests in it and heaps of other wild creatures appeared to be making themselves at home there too. Stoats and tortoises and dormice seemed to be quite common and not in the least shy. Toads of different colors and sizes hopped about the lawn as though it belonged to them. Green lizard, which were very rare in puddle bee, sat up on the stones right and blinked at us. Even snakes were to be seen. You need not be afraid of them. Said the doctor noticing that I started somewhat when a large black snake wiggled across the path right in front of us. These fellows are not poisonous. They do a great deal of good in keeping down many kinds of garden pests. I play the flute to them sometimes in the evening. They love it. Stand right up on their tails and carry on no end. Why do all these animals come and live here? I asked. I never saw a garden with so many creatures in it. Well, I suppose it's because they get the kind of food they like and nobody worries or disturbs them. And then, of course, they know me. And if they or their children get sick I presume they find it handy to be living in a doctor's garden. Look, you see that sparrow on the sundial swearing at the blackbird down below? Well, he has been coming here for years. He comes from London. The country sparrow's round about here are always laughing at him. They see he chirps with such a cockney accent. He is the most amusing bird. Very brave, but very cheeky. He loves nothing better than an argument but he always ends it by getting rude. He is a real city bird. In London, he lives around St. Paul's Cathedral. Cheapside, we call him. Are all these birds from the country round here? I asked. Most of them. I said the doctor. But a few rare ones visit me every year who ordinarily never come near England at all. For instance, that handsome little fellow hovering over the snapdragon there. He's a ruby-throated hummingbird. Comes from America. Strictly speaking, he has no business in this climate at all. It is too cool. I make him sleep in the kitchen at night. Then every August, about the last week of the month I have a purple bird of paradise come all the way from Brazil to see me. Very great swell. Hasn't arrived yet, of course. And there are a few others, foreign birds, from the tropics mostly, who drop in on me in the course of the summer months. But come! I must show you the zoo. Chapter 10 The Private Zoo I did not think there could be anything left in that garden which we had not seen. But the doctor took me by the arm and started off down a little narrow path. And after many windings and twistings and turnings we found ourselves before a small door and a high stone wall. The doctor pushed it open. Inside was still another garden. I had expected to find cages with animals inside them. But there were none to be seen. Instead there were little stone houses here and there, all over the garden. And each house had a window and a door. As we walked in, many of these doors opened and animals came running out to us evidently expecting food. Haven't the doors any locks on them? I asked the doctor. Oh yes, he said. Every door has a lock. But in my zoo the door is open from the inside, not from the out. The locks are only there so the animals can go and shut themselves in any time they want to get away from the annoyance of other animals or from people who might come here. Every animal in this zoo stays here because he likes it, not because he is made to. They all look very happy and clean. I said. Would you mind telling me the names of some of them? Certainly. Well now, that funny looking thing with plates on his back, nosing under the brick over there is a South American armadillo. The little chap talking to him is a Canadian woodchuck. They both live in those holes with two little beasts doing antics in the pond or a pair of Russian minks and that reminds me I must go and get them some herrings from the town before noon. It is early closing today. That animal, just stepping out of his house is an antelope, one of the smaller South African kinds. Now, let us move to the other side of those bushes there and I will show you some more. Are those deer over there? I asked. Where do you mean? Over there. I said pointy. Nibbling the grass border of the bed. There are two of them. Oh, that! Said the doctor with a smile. That is not two animals, that is one animal with two heads, the only two headed animal in the world. It is called the push me pull you. I brought him from Africa. He is very tame, acts as a kind of night watchman for my zoo. Here at a time you see. Very handy. The other head stays awake all night. Have you any lions or tigers? I asked as we moved on. No, said the doctor. It would not be possible to keep them here. And I would not keep them even if I could. If I had my way, they would not be a single lion or tiger in captivity anywhere in the world. They never take to it. They are never happy. They never settle down. They are always thinking of the big countries they have left behind. You can see it in their eyes. Dreaming, dreaming always of the great open spaces where they were born. Dreaming of the deep dark jungles where their mothers first taught them how to scent and track the deer. And what are they given in exchange for all of this? Ask the doctor stopping in his walk and growing all red and angry. What are they given in exchange for the glory of an African sunrise, to the palms, for the green shade of the matted tangled vines, for the cool big-starred nights of the desert, for the patter of the waterfall after a hard day's hunt? What, I ask you, are they given in exchange for these? Why, a bear cage with iron bars, an ugly piece of dead meat thrust into them once a day and a crowd of fools to come and stare at them with open mouths. No, stubborns. Lions and tigers, should never, never be seen in zoos. The doctor seemed to have grown terribly serious, almost sad. But suddenly his manner changed again and he took me by the arm with his same old, cheerful smile. But we haven't seen the butterfly houses yet, nor the aquariums. Come along, I am very proud of my butterfly houses. Off we went again and came presently into a hedged enclosure. There I saw several big huts made of fine-wired netting, like cages. Inside the netting all sorts of beautiful flowers were growing in the sun, with butterflies coming over them. The doctor pointed to the end of one of the huts where little boxes with holes in them stood in a row. Those are the hatching boxes, said he. There I put the different kinds of caterpillars, and as soon as they turn into butterflies and moths, they come out of my gardens to feed. Do butterflies have a language? I asked. Oh, I fancy they have, said the doctor. And the beetles too. But so far I haven't succeeded in learning much about insect languages. I have been too busy lately trying to master the shellfish talk. I mean to take it up though. At that moment, Polynesian joined us and said, Doctor, there are two guinea pigs at the back door. They say they have run away from the boy because they didn't get the right stuff to eat. They want to know if you will take them in. All right, said the doctor. Show them the way to the zoo. Give them the house on the left, near the gate, the one the black fox had. Tell them what the rules are and give them a square meal. Now, stubborns, we will go on to the aquariums. And first of all, I must show you my big glass seawater tank where I keep the shellfish. Into Part 1, Chapter 10. Part 1, chapters 11 through 15 of the Voyages of Dr. Doolittle by Hugh Lofting. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 11. My School Master, Polynesia Well, there were not many days after that, you may be sure, when I did not come to see my new friend. Indeed, I was at his house practically all day and every day. So that one evening, my brother asked me jokingly why I did not take my bed over there and live at the doctor's house altogether. After a while, I think I got to be quite useful to the doctor, feeding his pets for him, helping to make new houses and fences for the zoo, assisting with the sick animals that came, doing all manner of odd jobs about the place. So that although I enjoyed it all very much, it was indeed like living in a new world. I really think the doctor would have missed me if I had not come so often. And all this time, Polynesia came with me wherever I went, teaching me bird language and showing me how to understand the talking signs of the animals. At first I thought I would never be able to learn at all. It seemed so difficult, but the old parrot was wonderfully patient with me. Though I could see that occasionally she had hard work to keep her temper. Soon I began to pick up the strange chatter of the birds and to understand the funny talking antics of the dogs. I used to practice listening to the mice behind the wainscote after I went to bed and watching the cats on the roofs and pigeons in the market square of puddlebee. And the days passed very quickly as they always do when life is pleasant and the days turned into weeks and weeks into months and the doctors garden were losing their petals and yellow leaves lay upon the wide green lawn for the summer was nearly gone. One day Polynesia and I were talking in the library. This was a fine long room with a grand mantelpiece and the walls were covered from the ceiling to the floor with shelves full of books, books of stories, books on gardening, books about medicine, books of travel. These I loved and especially the doctor's great atlas with all its maps of the different countries of the world. This afternoon Polynesia was showing me the books about animals which John Doolittle had written himself. My. I said. What a lot of books the doctor has all the way around the room. Goodness. I wish I could read. It must be tremendously interesting. Can you read Polynesia? Only a little. Said she. Be careful how you turn those pages. Don't tear them. No. I really don't get time enough for reading much. That letter there is a K and this is a B. What does this word under the picture mean? I asked. Let me see. She said and started spelling it out. B-A-B-O-O-N That's monkey. It isn't nearly as hard as it looks once you note the letters. Polynesia. I said. I want to ask you something very important. What is it, my boy? Said she, smoothing down the feathers of her right wing. Polynesia often spoke to me in a very patronizing way. But I did not mind it from her. After all, she was nearly 200 years old and I was only 10. Listen. My mother doesn't think it is right that I come here for so many meals and I was going to ask you supposing I did a whole lot more work for the doctor. Why couldn't I come and live here altogether? You see, instead of being paid like a regular gardener or workman I would get my bed and meals in exchange for the work I did. What do you think? You mean you want to be a proper assistant to the doctor? Is that it? Yes. I suppose that's what you call it. I thought you thought I could be very useful to him. Well... She thought a moment. I really don't see why not. But is this what you want to be when you grow up? A naturalist? Yes, I said. I have made up my mind. I would sooner be a naturalist than anything else in the world. Let's go speak to the doctor about it. Said Polynesia. He's in the next room in the study. Open the door very gently. Open the door quietly and peeped in. The first thing I saw was an enormous black retriever dog sitting in the middle of the hearth rug with his ears cocked up listening to the doctor who was reading aloud to him from a letter. What is the doctor doing? I asked Polynesia in a whisper. Ah, the dog has had a letter from his mistress and he's brought it to the doctor to read for him, that's all. He belongs to a funny little girl called Minnie Dooley who lives on the other side of town. She has pigtails down her back. She and her brother have gone away to the seaside for the summer and the old retriever is heartbroken while the children are gone so they write letters to him in English of course and as the old dog doesn't understand them he brings them here and the doctor turns him into dog language for him. I think many must have written that she's coming back to judge from the dog's excitement the retriever seemed to be suddenly overcome with joy as the doctor finished the letter the old dog started barking at the top of his voice wagging his tail wildly and jumping about the study he took the letter in his mouth and ran out of the room snorting hard and mumbling to himself he's going down to meet the coach whispered Polynesia that dog's devotion to those children is more than I can understand you should see Minnie she's the most conceited little minx that ever walked she squints too Chapter 12 Migrate Idea Presently the doctor looked up and saw us at the door oh come in, Stubbins said he did you wish to speak to me come in and take a chair doctor I said I want to be a naturalist like you when I grow up you do, do you? murmured the doctor huh, well, dear me you don't say well well, have you uh have you spoken to your mother and father about it? no, not yet I said I want you to speak to them for me you would do it better I want to be your helper your assistant if you'll have me last night my mother was saying that she didn't consider it right for me to come here so often for meals and I've been thinking about it a good deal since couldn't we make some arrangement couldn't I work for my meals and sleep here? but my dear Stubbins said the doctor who laughing you are quite welcome to come here for three meals a day all the year round I'm only too glad to have you besides you do do a lot of work as it is I've often felt that I ought to pay you for what you do but what arrangement was it that you thought of? well I thought said I that perhaps you would come and see my mother and father and tell them that if they let me live here with you and work hard that you will teach me to read and write you see my mother is awfully anxious to have me learn reading and writing and besides I couldn't be a proper naturalist without could I I don't know so much about that said the doctor it is nice I admit to be able to read and write not all are like you know for example this young fellow Charles Darwin that people are talking about so much now he's a Cambridge graduate reads and writes very well and then Cuvier he used to be a tutor but listen the greatest naturalist of them all doesn't even know how to write his own name nor to read the ABC who is he? I asked he is a mysterious person said the doctor I've never seen him no white man has ever met him I fancy Mr Darwin doesn't even know that he exists he lives almost entirely with the animals and with the different tribes of Indians usually somewhere among the mountains of Peru he lives almost entirely with the animals and with the different tribes of Indians usually somewhere among the mountains of Peru never stays long in one place goes from tribe to tribe like a sort of Indian tramp how do you know so much about him? I asked if you've never even seen him the purple bird of paradise said the doctor she told me all about him she says he is a perfectly marvellous naturalist I got her to take a message to him for me last time she was here I am expecting her back any day now I can hardly wait to see what answer she has brought from him it is already almost the last week of August I do hope nothing has happened to her on the way but why do the animals and birds come to you when they are sick? I said why don't they go to him if he's so very wonderful it seems that my methods are more up to date said the doctor but from what the purple bird of paradise tells me his knowledge of natural history must be positively tremendous his speciality is botany plants and all that sort of thing but he knows a lot about birds and animals too he's very good on bees and beetles but now tell me stubbins are you quite sure that you really want to be a naturalist? yes my mind is made up well you know it isn't a very good profession for making money not at all it isn't most of the good naturalists don't make any money whatever all they do is spend money buying butterfly nets and cases for birds eggs and things it is only now after I have been a naturalist for many years that I am beginning to make a little money from the books I write I don't care about money I said I want to be a naturalist won't you please come and have dinner with my mother and father next Thursday I am going to ask you and then you can talk to them about it you see there is another thing if I am living with you and sort of belong to your house and business I shall be able to come with you next time you go on a voyage oh I see said he is smiling so you want to come on a voyage with me do you aha I want to go on all your voyages with you it would be much easier for you if you had someone to carry the butterfly nets for a long time the doctor sat thinking drumming on the desk with his fingers while I waited terribly impatiently to see what he was going to say at last he shrugged his shoulders and stood up well stubborn said he I'll come and talk it over with you and your parents next Thursday and well we'll see we'll see give your mother and father my compliments for your invitation will you then I tore home like the wind to tell my mother that the doctor had promised to come Chapter 13 A Traveller Arrives The next day I was sitting on the wall of the doctor's garden after tea talking to Dab-Dab I had now learned so much from Polynesia that I could talk to most birds and some animals without a great deal of difficulty I found Dab-Dab a very nice old motherly bird though not nearly so clever and interesting as Polynesia she had been a housekeeper for the doctor many years now well as I was saying the old duck and I were sitting on the flat top of the garden wall that evening looking down into the oxenthrope road below we were watching some of the sheep being driven to market in Petalby and Dab-Dab had just been telling me about the doctor's adventures in Africa for she had gone on a voyage with him to that country long ago suddenly I heard a curious distant noise down the road towards the town it sounded like a lot of people cheering I stood up on the wall to see if I could make out what was coming presently there appeared round to bend a great crowd of school children following a very ragged curious looking woman What in the world can it be? cried Dab-Dab the children were all laughing and shouting and certainly the woman they were following was most extraordinary she had very long arms and the most stooping shoulders I have ever seen she wore a straw hat on the side of her head with poppies on it and her skirt was so long for her it dragged on the ground like a ball gown's train I could not see anything of her face because of the white hat pulled over her eyes but as she got nearer to us and the laughing of the children grew louder I noticed that her hands were very dark in color and hairy like a witch's then all of a sudden Dab-Dab at my side startled me by crying out in a loud voice Why, it's Chee-Chee Chee-Chee, come back at last How dare those children tease him I'll give the little imp something to laugh at and she flew right off the wall down into the road and made straight walking away in a most terrifying fashion and pecking at their feet and legs the children made off down the street back to the town as hard as they could run the strange looking figure and the straw hat stood gazing after them a moment and then came weirdly up to the gate it didn't bother to undo the latch but just climbed right over the gate as though it were something in the way and then I noticed that it took hold of the bars with its feet so that it really had forehands to climb with but it was only when at last I got a glimpse of the face under the hat that I could be really sure it was a monkey Chee-Chee, for it was he frowned at me suspiciously from the top of the gate as though he thought I was going to laugh at him like the other boys and girls then he dropped into the garden on the inside and immediately started taking off his clothes he tore the straw hat in two and threw it down into the road then he took off his bodice and skirt jumped on them savagely and began kicking them round the front garden presently I heard a screech from the house an out flew Polynesia followed by the doctor and jipped Chee-Chee, Chee-Chee shouted the parrot you've come at last I always told the doctor you'd find a way however did you do it they all gathered round him shaking him by his forehands laughing and asking him a million questions at once then they all started back for the house run out to my bedroom, Stubbins said the doctor turning to me you'll find a bag of peanuts in the small left-hand drawer of the bureau I have always kept them there in case he might come back unexpectedly some day and wait a minute see if Dab-Dab has any bananas in the pantry Chee-Chee hasn't had a banana he tells me in two months when I came down again to the kitchen I found everybody listening attentively to the monkey who was telling the story of his journey from Africa Chapter 14 Chee-Chee's Voyage it seems that after Polynesia had left Chee-Chee had grown more homesick than ever for the doctor and the little house in Pelby at last he had made up his mind that by hook or crook he would follow her and one day going down to the seashore he saw a lot of people, black and white getting on to a ship that was coming to England he tried to get on too but they turned him back and drove him away and presently he noticed a whole big family of funny people passing on to the ship and one of the children in his family reminded Chee-Chee of a cousin of his with whom he had once been in love and to himself that girl looks just as much like a monkey as I look like a girl if I could only get some clothes to wear I might easily slip on to the ship amongst these families and people would take me for a girl good idea so he went off to a town that was quite close and hopping in through an open window he found a skirt and bought a slide on a chair they belonged to a fashionable black lady who was taking it back Chee-Chee put them on next he went back to the seashore mingled with the crowd there and at last sneaked safely on to the big ship then he thought he had better hide for fear people might look at him too closely and he stayed hidden all the time the ship was sailing to England only coming out at night when everybody was asleep to find food when he reached England and tried to get off the ship the sailor saw at last that he was only a monkey dressed up in girls' clothes and they wanted to keep him for a pet but he managed to give them the slip and once he was on shore he dived into the crowd and got away but he was still a long distance from Puddleby and had to come right across the whole breadth of England he had a terrible time of it whenever he passed through a town all the children ran after him in a crowd laughing and often silly people caught hold of him and tried to stop him so that he had to run up lamp posts and climb to chimney pots to escape from them at night he used to sleep in ditches or barns or anywhere he could hide and he lived on the berries he picked from the hedges and the cob nuts that grew in the culpses at length after many adventures and narrow squeaks he saw the tower of Puddleby Church and he knew that at last he was near his old home when Chi Chi had finished his story he ate six bananas without stopping and drank a whole bowl full of milk my said he why wasn't I born with wings like Polynesia so I could fly here you've no idea how I grew to hate that hat and skirt I've never been so uncomfortable in my life all the way from Bristol here if the wretched head wasn't falling off my head or catching in the trees those beastly skirts were tripping me up and getting wound round everything what on earth do women wear those things for? goodness I was glad to see old Puddleby this morning when I climbed over the hill by Bellary's farm your bed on top of the plate rack in the scullery is all ready for you said the doctor we never had it disturbed in case you might come back yes and you can have the old smoking jacket of the doctors which you used as a blanket in case it is cold in the night thanks said Chi Chi it's good to be back in the old house again everything's just the same as when I left except the clean roller towel on the back of the door there that's new well I think I'll go to bed now I need sleep then we all went out of the kitchen into the scullery and watched Chi Chi climb the plate rack like a sailor going up a mast on the top he curled himself up pulled the old smoking jacket over him and in a minute he was snoring peacefully good old Chi Chi whispered the doctor I'm glad he's back yes good old Chi Chi I go dab dab in Polynesia then we all tiptoed out of the scullery and closed the door very gently behind us chapter 15 I become a doctor's assistant when Thursday evening came there was great excitement at our house my mother had asked me what were the doctor's favorite dishes and I had told her spare ribs, sliced beetroot fried bread, shrimps, and triacal tart tonight she had them all on the table waiting for him and she was now fussing round the house to see if everything was tidy and in readiness for his coming at last we heard a knock upon the door and of course it was I who got there first to let him in the doctor had brought his own flute with him this time and after supper was over which he enjoyed very much the table was cleared away and the washing up left in the kitchen then the doctor and my father started playing duets they got so interested in this that I began to be afraid that they would never come to talking over my business but at last the doctor said your son tells me that he is anxious to become a naturalist and then began a long talk which lasted far into the night at first both my mother and father were rather against the idea as they had been from the beginning they said it was only a boyish win and that I would get tired of it very soon but after the matter had been talked over from every side the doctor turned to my father and said well now supposing Mr. Stubbins that your son came to me for two years that is until he is 12 years old during those two years he will have time to see if he is going to grow tired of it or not also during that time I will promise to teach him reading and writing and perhaps a little arithmetic as well what do you say to that I don't know said my father shaking his hand you are very kind and it is a handsome offer you make doctor but I feel that Tommy ought to be learning some trade by which he can earn his living later on then my mother spoke up although she was nearly in tears at the prospect of my leaving her house while I was so young she pointed out to my father that this was a grand chance for me to get learning now Jacob she said you know that many lads in the town have been to the grammar school till they were 14 or 15 years old Tommy can easily spare those two years for his education and if he learns no more than to read and write the time will not be lost oh their goodness knows she added getting out her handkerchief to cry the house will seem terribly empty when he's gone I will take care that he comes to see you Mrs. Stubbins said the doctor every day if you like after all he will not be very far away well at length my father gave in and it was agreed that I was to live with the doctor and work for him for two years in exchange for learning to read and write and for my board in lodging of course added the doctor while I have money I will keep Tommy in clothes as well but money is a very irregular thing with me sometimes I have some and then sometimes I haven't you are very good doctor said my mother crying her tears oh it seems to me that Tommy is a very fortunate boy and then thoughtless selfish little imp that I was I leaned over and whispered in the doctor's ear please don't forget to say something about the voyages oh by the way said John Doolittle of course occasionally my work requires me to travel you will have no objection I take it to your son's coming with me my poor mother looked up sharply more unhappy and anxious than ever at this new turn while I stood behind the doctor's chair my heart thumping with excitement waiting for my father's answer no he said slowly after a while if we agree to the other arrangement I don't see that we have the right to make any objection to that well there surely was never a happier boy in the world than I was at that moment my head was in the clouds I trod on air I could scarcely keep from dancing round the parlor at last the dream of my life was to come true at last I was to be given a chance to seek my fortune to have adventures for I knew perfectly well that it was now almost time for the doctor to start upon another voyage Polynesia had told me that he hardly ever stayed at home for more than six months at a stretch therefore he would be surely going again within a fortnight and I I Tommy Stubbins would go with him just to think of it to cross the sea to walk on foreign shores to roam the world End of part one