JUST at that moment Polynesia 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 at 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 and ask his advice. Now
there’s a big fat hare outside at the back door with a squawking baby.
Can she see the Doctor, please!—Thinks it’s going to have convulsions.
Stupid little thing’s 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. Why, the poor man never gets 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.
“Oh Good Gracious!” exclaimed the parrot, tossing her head scornfully.
“Why, there aren’t any other animal-doctors—not real doctors. Oh of
course there _are_ those vet persons, to be sure. But, bless you,
they’re no good. You see, they can’t understand the animals’ language;
so how can you expect them to be any use? Imagine yourself, or your
father, going to see a doctor who could not understand a word you
say—nor even tell you in your own language what you must do to get
well! Poof!—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, laying the plate upon the hearth.
“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 have really missed
much—to judge from what _I_ have seen of school-boys. But listen: are
you a good noticer?—Do you notice things well? I mean, for instance,
supposing you saw two cock-starlings on an 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.”
“Well that,” said Polynesia, brushing some crumbs off the corner
of the table with her left foot—“that is what you call powers of
observation—noticing the small things about 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, didn’t care; for they always had wings to
fly away with. But that is the first thing to remember: being a good
noticer 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. ’Twould be a great thing if the poor
man could get some help—and some rest. It is 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.”
[Illustration: “‘Being a good noticer is terribly important’”]
“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—Sh! I hear him coming.
Quick—bring his bacon back on to the table.”
_THE NINTH CHAPTER_