no, he’s not for sale,” said the Doctor.
“Oh, come now,” said the manager. “You don’t want him. Anyone could see you’re not a regular showman. I’ll give you twenty pounds for him.”
“No,” said the Doctor.
“Thirty pounds,” said Blossom.
Still the Doctor refused.
“Forty pounds – fifty pounds,” said the manager. Then he went up and up, offering prices that made the Cat’s-Meat-Man who was listening open his eyes wider and wider with wonder.
“It’s no use,” said the Doctor at last. “You must either take me with the animal into your circus or leave him where he is. I have promised that I myself will see he is properly treated.”
“What do you mean?” asked the showman. “Ain’t he your property? Who did you promise?”
“He’s his own property,” said the Doctor. “He came here to oblige me. It was to himself, the pushmi-pullyu, that I gave my promise.”
“What! – Are you crazy?” asked the showman.
Matthew Mugg was going to explain to Blossom that the Doctor could speak animals’ language. But John Dolittle motioned to him to be silent.
“And so, you see,” he went on, “you must either take me and the animal, or neither.”
Then Blossom said no, he wouldn’t agree to that arrangement. And to Matthew’s great disappointment and grief he took his hat and left.
But he had expected the Doctor to change his mind and give in. And he hadn’t been gone more than ten minutes before he rang the door-bell and said that he had come back to talk it over.
Well, the upshot of it was that the showman finally consented to all the Doctor asked. The pushmi-pullyu and his party were to be provided with a new wagon all to themselves and, although travelling as part of the circus, were to be entirely free and independent. The money made was to be divided equally between the Doctor and the manager. Whenever the pushmi-pullyu wanted a day off he was to have it, and whatever kind of food he asked for was to be provided by Blossom.
When all the arrangements had been gone into, the man said he would send the caravan here next day, and prepared to go.
“By the way,” he said, pausing at the front door. “What’s your name?”
The Doctor was just about to tell him, when he remembered Sarah’s request.
“Oh, well, call me John Smith,” said he.
“All right, Mr. Smith,” said the showman. “Have your party ready by eleven in the morning. Good night.”
“Good night,” said the Doctor.
As soon as the door had closed, Dab-Dab, Gub-Gub, Jip, Too-Too and the white mouse, who had been hiding and listening in various corners of the house, all came out into the hall and started chattering at the top of their voices.
“Hooray!” grunted Gub-Gub. “Hooray for the circus!”
“My,” said Matthew to the Doctor, “you’re not such a bad business man after all! You got Blossom to give in to everything. He wasn’t going to let the chance slip. Did you see how quickly he came back when he thought the deal was off? I’ll bet he expects to make a lot of money out of us.”
“Poor old home,” sighed Dab-Dab, affectionately dusting off the hat-rack. “To leave it again so soon!”
“Hooray!” yelled Gub-Gub, trying to stand on his hind legs and balance the Doctor’s hat on his nose – “Hooray for the circus! – Tomorrow! – Whee!”
“Hooray for the circus!”
Chapter 4
The Doctor Is Discovered
Very early the next morning Dab-Dab had the whole house astir. She said breakfast must be eaten and the table cleared before seven, if everything was to be got in readiness for their departure by eleven.
As a matter of fact, the diligent housekeeper had the house closed and everybody waiting outside on the front steps hours before the wagon arrived. But the Doctor, for one, was still kept busy. For up to the last minute animal patients were still coming in from all parts of the countryside, with various ailments to be cured.
Waiting on the front steps
At last Jip, who had been out scouting, came rushing back to the party gathered in the garden.
“The wagon’s coming,” he panted – “all red and yellow – it’s just around the bend.”
Then everybody got excited and began grabbing their parcels. Gub-Gub’s luggage was a bundle of turnips; and just as he was hurrying down the steps to the road the string broke and the round, white vegetables went rolling all over the place.
The wagon, when it finally came in sight, was certainly a thing of beauty. It was made like a gypsy caravan, with windows and door and chimney. It was very gayly painted and quite new.
Not so the horse; he was quite old. The Doctor said that never had he seen an animal so worn out and weary. He got into conversation with him and found out that he had been working in the circus for thirty-five years. He was very sick of it he said. His name was Beppo. The Doctor decided he would tell Blossom that it was high time Beppo should be pensioned off and allowed to live in peace.
In spite of the newness of the van, Dab-Dab swept it out before she put the packages in it. She had the Doctor’s bedding tied up in a sheet, like a bundle of clothes for the laundry. And she was most careful that this should not get dirty.
When the animals and the baggage were all in, the Doctor got terribly afraid that the load would be too much for the old horse to pull. And he wanted to push behind, to help. But Beppo said he could manage it all right. However, the Doctor would not add to the weight by getting in himself. And when the door was shut and the window curtains drawn, so no one should see the pushmi-pullyu on the way, they set out for Grimbledon, with the man who had brought the wagon driving and the Doctor and the Cat’s-Meat-Man walking behind.
On the way through Puddleby Market-place, the driver stopped to get something at a shop. And while the caravan waited outside a crowd gathered about the wagon, wanting to know where it was going and what was inside. Matthew Mugg, his chest now swelling with pride, was dying to tell them, but the Doctor wouldn’t let him make any speeches.
They reached the Grimbledon Fair-grounds about two o’clock in the afternoon and entered the circus enclosure by a back gate. Inside they found the great Blossom himself, waiting to welcome them.
He
