So he went off to a town that was quite close, and hopping in throughan open window he found a skirt and bodice lying on a chair. Theybelonged to a fashionable black lady who was taking a bath. Chee-Cheeput them on. Next he went back to the seashore, mingled with the crowdthere and at last sneaked safely on to the big ship. Then he thought hehad better hide, for fear people might look at him too closely. And hestayed hidden all the time the ship was sailing to England—only comingout at night, when everybody was asleep, to find food.
When he reached England and tried to get off the ship, the sailors sawat last that he was only a monkey dressed up in girl’s clothes; andthey wanted to keep him for a pet. But he managed to give them theslip; 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 rightacross the whole breadth of England.
He had a terrible time of it. Whenever he passed through a town all thechildren ran after him in a crowd, laughing; and often silly peoplecaught hold of him and tried to stop him, so that he had to run uplamp-posts and climb to chimney-pots to escape from them. At nighthe used to sleep in ditches or barns or anywhere he could hide; andhe lived on the berries he picked from the hedges and the cob-nutsthat grew in the copses. At length, after many adventures and narrowsqueaks, he saw the tower of Puddleby Church and he knew that at lasthe was near his old home.
When Chee-Chee had finished his story he ate six bananas withoutstopping and drank a whole bowlful of milk.
“My!” he said, “why wasn’t I born with wings, like Polynesia, so Icould 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 Bristolhere, if the wretched hat wasn’t falling off my head or catching in thetrees, those beastly skirts were tripping me up and getting wound roundeverything. What on earth do women wear those things for? Goodness, Iwas glad to see old Puddleby this morning when I climbed over the hillby Bellaby’s farm!”
“Your bed on top of the plate-rack in the scullery is all ready foryou,” said the Doctor. “We never had it disturbed in case you mightcome back.”
“Yes,” said Dab-Dab, “and you can have the old smoking-jacket of theDoctor’s which you used to use as a blanket, in case it is cold in thenight.”
“Thanks,” said Chee-Chee. “It’s good to be back in the old house again.Everything’s just the same as when I left—except the clean roller-towelon the back of the door there—that’s new—Well, I think I’ll go to bednow. I need sleep.”
Then we all went out of the kitchen into the scullery and watchedChee-Chee climb the plate-rack like a sailor going up a mast. On thetop, he curled himself up, pulled the old smoking-jacket over him, andin a minute he was snoring peacefully.
“Good old Chee-Chee!” whispered the Doctor. “I’m glad he’s back.”
“Yes—good old Chee-Chee!” echoed Dab-Dab and Polynesia.
Then we all tip-toed out of the scullery and closed the door verygently behind us.
_THE FIFTEENTH CHAPTER_
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 Ihad told her: spare ribs, sliced beet-root, fried bread, shrimps andtreacle-tart. To-night she had them all on the table waiting for him;and she was now fussing round the house to see if everything was tidyand in readiness for his coming.
At last we heard a knock upon the door, and of course it was I who gotthere first to let him in.
The Doctor had brought his own flute with him this time. And aftersupper was over (which he enjoyed very much) the table was cleared awayand the washing-up left in the kitchen-sink till the next day. Then theDoctor and my father started playing duets.
They got so interested in this that I began to be afraid that theywould never come to talking over my business. But at last the Doctorsaid,
“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 firstboth my mother and father were rather against the idea—as they had beenfrom the beginning. They said it was only a boyish whim, and that Iwould get tired of it very soon. But after the matter had been talkedover from every side, the Doctor turned to my father and said,
“Well now, supposing, Mr. Stubbins, that your son came to me for twoyears—that is, until he is twelve years old. During those two years hewill have time to see if he is going to grow tired of it or not. Alsoduring that time, I will promise to teach him reading and writing andperhaps a little arithmetic as well. What do you say to that?”
“I don’t know,” said my father, shaking his head. “You are very kindand it is a handsome offer you make, Doctor. But I feel that Tommyought to be learning some trade by which he can earn his living lateron.”
Then my mother spoke up. Although she was nearly in tears at theprospect of my leaving her house while I was still so young, shepointed out to my father that this was a grand chance for me to getlearning.
“Now Jacob,” she said, “you know that many lads in the town have beento the Grammar School till they were fourteen or fifteen years old.Tommy can easily spare these two years for his education; and if helearns no more than to read and write, the time will not be lost.Though 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 theDoctor—“every day, if you like. After all, he will not be very faraway.”
Well, at length my father gave in; and it was agreed that I was to livewith the Doctor and work for him for two years in exchange for learningto read and write and for my board and lodging.
“Of course,” added the Doctor, “while I have money I will keep Tommy inclothes as well. But money is a very irregular thing with me; sometimesI have some, and then sometimes I haven’t.”
“You are very good, Doctor,” said my mother, drying her tears. “Itseems to me that Tommy is a very fortunate boy.”
And then, thoughtless, selfish little imp that I was, I leaned over andwhispered in the Doctor’s ear,
“Please don’t forget to say something about the voyages.”
“Oh, by the way,” said John Dolittle, “of course occasionally my workrequires me to travel. You will have no objection, I take it, to yourson’s coming with me?”
My poor mother looked up sharply, more unhappy and anxious than everat this new turn; while I stood behind the Doctor’s chair, my heartthumping with excitement, waiting for my father’s answer.
“No,” he said slowly after a while. “If we agree to the otherarrangement I don’t see that we’ve the right to make any objection tothat.”
Well, there surely was never a happier boy in the world than I was atthat moment. My head was in the clouds. I trod on air. I could scarcelykeep from dancing round the parlor. At last the dream of my life was tocome true! At last I was to be given a chance to seek my fortune, tohave adventures! For I knew perfectly well that it was now almost timefor the Doctor to start upon another voyage. Polynesia had told me thathe 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 theSea, to walk on foreign shores, to roam the World!
PART TWO
_THE FIRST CHAPTER_
THE CREW OF “THE CURLEW”
FROM that time on of course my position in the town was very different.I was no longer a poor cobbler’s son. I carried my nose in the air asI went down the High Street with Jip in his gold collar at my side;and snobbish little boys who had despised me before because I was notrich enough to go to school now pointed me out to their friends andwhispered, “You see him? He’s a doctor’s assistant—and only ten yearsold!”
But their eyes would have opened still wider with wonder if they hadbut known that I and the dog t
hat was with me could talk to one another.
Two days after the Doctor had been to our house to dinner he told mevery sadly that he was afraid that he would have to give up trying tolearn the language of the shellfish—at all events for the present.
“I’m very discouraged, Stubbins, very. I’ve tried the mussels andthe clams, the oysters and the whelks, cockles and scallops; sevendifferent kinds of crabs and all the lobster family. I think I’llleave it for the present and go at it again later on.”
“What will you turn to now?” I asked.
“Well, I rather thought of going on a voyage, Stubbins. It’s quitea time now since I’ve been away. And there is a great deal of workwaiting for me abroad.”
“When shall we start?” I asked.
“Well, first I shall have to wait till the Purple Bird-of-Paradise getshere. I must see if she has any message for me from Long Arrow. She’slate. She should have been here ten days ago. I hope to goodness she’sall right.”
“Well, hadn’t we better be seeing about getting a boat?” I said. “Sheis sure to be here in a day or so; and there will be lots of things todo to get ready in the mean time, won’t there?”
“Yes, indeed,” said the Doctor. “Suppose we go down and see your friendJoe, the mussel-man. He will know about boats.”
“I’d like to come too,” said Jip.
“All right, come along,” said the Doctor, and off we went.
Joe said yes, he had a boat—one he had just bought—but it needed threepeople to sail her. We told him we would like to see it anyway.
So the mussel-man took us off a little way down the river and showedus the neatest, prettiest, little vessel that ever was built. She wascalled _The Curlew_. Joe said he would sell her to us cheap. But thetrouble was that the boat needed three people, while we were only two.
“Of course I shall be taking Chee-Chee,” said the Doctor. “But althoughhe is very quick and clever, he is not as strong as a man. We reallyought to have another person to sail a boat as big as that.”
“I know of a good sailor, Doctor,” said Joe—“a first-class seaman whowould be glad of the job.”
“No, thank you, Joe,” said Doctor Dolittle. “I don’t want any seamen.I couldn’t afford to hire them. And then they hamper me so, seamen do,when I’m at sea. They’re always wanting to do things the proper way;and I like to do them _my_ way—Now let me see: who could we take withus?”
“There’s Matthew Mugg, the cat’s-meat-man,” I said.
“No, he wouldn’t do. Matthew’s a very nice fellow, but he talks toomuch—mostly about his rheumatism. You have to be frightfully particularwhom you take with you on long voyages.”
“How about Luke the Hermit?” I asked.
“That’s a good idea—splendid—if he’ll come. Let’s go and ask him rightaway.”
_THE SECOND CHAPTER_
LUKE THE HERMIT
THE Hermit was an old friend of ours, as I have already told you. Hewas a very peculiar person. Far out on the marshes he lived in a littlebit of a shack—all alone except for his brindle bulldog. No one knewwhere he came from—not even his name. Just “Luke the Hermit” folkscalled him. He never came into the town; never seemed to want to seeor talk to people. His dog, Bob, drove them away if they came near hishut. When you asked anyone in Puddleby who he was or why he lived outin that lonely place by himself, the only answer you got was, “Oh, Lukethe Hermit? Well, there’s some mystery about him. Nobody knows what itis. But there’s a mystery. Don’t go near him. He’ll set the dog on you.”
Nevertheless there were two people who often went out to that littleshack on the fens: the Doctor and myself. And Bob, the bulldog, neverbarked when he heard us coming. For we liked Luke; and Luke liked us.
This afternoon, crossing the marshes we faced a cold wind blowing fromthe East. As we approached the hut Jip put up his ears and said,
“That’s funny!”
“What’s funny?” asked the Doctor.
“That Bob hasn’t come out to meet us. He should have heard us longago—or smelt us. What’s that queer noise?”
“Sounds to me like a gate creaking,” said the Doctor. “Maybe it’sLuke’s door, only we can’t see the door from here; it’s on the far sideof the shack.”
“I hope Bob isn’t sick,” said Jip; and he let out a bark to see if thatwould call him. But the only answer he got was the wailing of the windacross the wide, salt fen.
We hurried forward, all three of us thinking hard.
When we reached the front of the shack we found the door open, swingingand creaking dismally in the wind. We looked inside. There was no onethere.
“Isn’t Luke at home then?” said I. “Perhaps he’s out for a walk.”
“He is _always_ at home,” said the Doctor frowning in a peculiar sortof way. “And even if he were out for a walk he wouldn’t leave hisdoor banging in the wind behind him. There is something queer aboutthis—What are you doing in there, Jip?”
“Nothing much—nothing worth speaking of,” said Jip examining the floorof the hut extremely carefully.
“Come here, Jip,” said the Doctor in a stern voice. “You are hidingsomething from me. You see signs and you know something—or you guessit. What has happened? Tell me. Where is the Hermit?”
“I don’t know,” said Jip looking very guilty and uncomfortable. “Idon’t know where he is.”
“Well, you know something. I can tell it from the look in your eye.What is it?”
But Jip didn’t answer.
For ten minutes the Doctor kept questioning him. But not a word wouldthe dog say.
“Well,” said the Doctor at last, “it is no use our standing around herein the cold. The Hermit’s gone. That’s all. We might as well go home toluncheon.”
As we buttoned up our coats and started back across the marsh, Jip ranahead pretending he was looking for water-rats.
“He knows something all right,” whispered the Doctor. “And I think heknows what has happened too. It’s funny, his not wanting to tell me. Hehas never done that before—not in eleven years. He has always told meeverything—Strange—very strange!”
“Do you mean you think he knows all about the Hermit, the big mysteryabout him which folks hint at and all that?”
“I shouldn’t wonder if he did,” the Doctor answered slowly. “I noticedsomething in his expression the moment we found that door open and thehut empty. And the way he sniffed the floor too—it told him something,that floor did. He saw signs we couldn’t see—I wonder why he won’t tellme. I’ll try him again. Here, Jip! Jip!—Where is the dog? I thought hewent on in front.”
“So did I,” I said. “He was there a moment ago. I saw him as large aslife. Jip—Jip—Jip—JIP!”
But he was gone. We called and called. We even walked back to the hut.But Jip had disappeared.
“Oh well,” I said, “most likely he has just run home ahead of us. Heoften does that, you know. We’ll find him there when we get back to thehouse.”
But the Doctor just closed his coat-collar tighter against the wind andstrode on muttering, “Odd—very odd!”
_THE THIRD CHAPTER_
JIP AND THE SECRET
WHEN we reached the house the first question the Doctor asked ofDab-Dab in the hall was,
“Is Jip home yet?”
“No,” said Dab-Dab, “I haven’t seen him.”
“Let me know the moment he comes in, will you, please?” said theDoctor, hanging up his hat.
“Certainly I will,” said Dab-Dab. “Don’t be long over washing yourhands; the lunch is on the table.”
Just as we were sitting down to luncheon in the kitchen we heard agreat racket at the front door. I ran and opened it. In bounded Jip.
“Doctor!” he cried, “come into the library quick. I’ve got somethingto tell you—No, Dab-Dab, the luncheon must wait. Please hurry, Doctor.There’s not a moment to be lost. Don’t let any of the animals come—justyou and Tommy.”
“Now,” he said,
when we were inside the library and the door wasclosed, “turn the key in the lock and make sure there’s no onelistening under the windows.”
“It’s all right,” said the Doctor. “Nobody can hear you here. Now whatis it?”
“Well, Doctor,” said Jip (he was badly out of breath from running), “Iknow all about the Hermit—I have known for years. But I couldn’t tellyou.”
“Why?” asked the Doctor.
“Because I’d promised not to tell any one. It was Bob, his dog, thattold me. And I swore to him that I would keep the secret.”
“Well, and are you going to tell me now?”
“Yes,” said Jip, “we’ve got to save him. I followed Bob’s scent justnow when I left you out there on the marshes. And I found him. And Isaid to him, ‘Is it all right,’ I said, ‘for me to tell the Doctor now?Maybe he can do something.’ And Bob says to me, ‘Yes,’ says he, ‘it’sall right because—’”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, go on, go on!” cried the Doctor. “Tell us whatthe mystery is—not what you said to Bob and what Bob said to you. Whathas happened? Where _is_ the Hermit?”
“He’s in Puddleby Jail,” said Jip. “He’s in prison.”