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 the
town. They were for a Colonel Bellowes who was very particular.
I found the 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
tradesmen’s entrance—go to the back door.” Then he slammed the door
shut.
I felt inclined to throw the shoes into 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 a timid little woman and had her hands all
over flour as though she were making bread. She seemed to be terribly
afraid of her husband whom I could still hear stumping round the house
somewhere, grunting indignantly because I had come to the front door.
Then 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 on to the road and turned
towards home again.
I wondered if it were supper-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 it was the Colonel out for a walk. He was all
wrapped up in smart overcoats and mufflers and bright-colored gloves.
It was not a very cold day but he had so many clothes on he looked
like a pillow inside 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
gingerbeer-bottle.
“Do you imagine for one moment,” he spluttered, “that I am going to get
myself all unbuttoned just to tell a little boy like you _the time_!”
And he went stumping 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 bag.
“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.
“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 pitcher 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 all right.”
“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 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 some one very
tall and strong and marvelous. It was hard to believe that this funny
little man with the kind smiling 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. Never
mind the mud. Take it in with you. Get in out of the rain!”
I popped in, he and Jip following. Then he slammed the door to 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
and kinds of animals and birds calling and squeaking and screeching
at the same time. I could hear things trundling 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 bit 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 Doctor Dolittle would be like and what the funny
little house would have inside it. But I never imagined it would be
anything like this. Yet somehow after I had felt the Doctor’s hand upon
my arm I 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 some one trundle up the stairs again and start moving about in
the rooms above.
Then 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. At once all the animals kept quiet.
[Illustration: “And in her right foot she carried a lighted candle!”]
“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 some one 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!
_THE FOURTH CHAPTER_