Part III Chapter 1 Doctor Dolittle and the Green Canary by Hugh Lofting
The Canary Opera
The Dolittle caravan and circus started immediately for London and set up camp on Greenheath well outside the city. Cheapside was found, and helped the Doctor and Matthew Mugg, the Cat's–Meat–Man, with the gathering together of birds from private aviaries, the zoo, and from the open fields. Theodosia, Matthew's wife, took over the making of all the costumes for the opera while the doctor and the Cat's–Meat–Man attended to the details of production.
When it came time for rehearsals to begin they still had not found a suitable bird to play opposite Pippinella—to sing the tenor role.
'We need a voice that will blend perfectly with hers; said John Dolittle to Matthew. 'It's important that he be of good appearance, too.'
Before Matthew could reply, Pippinella, who was listening from her cage nearby, called out:
Why don't we try to find Twink—the mate I had when I was with Aunt Rosie?'
'Oh, Lor' bless up, Pip!' cried Matthew Mugg. 'It'd be like tryin' to find a needle in an 'aystack.'
'Let's not give up until we've had a look around,' said the Doctor. 'It may be possible to find Twink.'
With Pippinella going along to help, Matthew visited every animal shop in the vicinity of London. Strangely enough, one day in a dirty shop, in the East End, who should turn up but Twink. He was desperately ill with a cold and a sore throat but the Doctor soon cured that with his Canary Cough Mixture and Twink's voice came back stronger and more beautiful than it had been before. Pippinella was delighted to see him again and, for the time being, stopped fretting about her friend, the window–cleaner.
Twink's account of the miserable conditions under which the birds and animals existed in the shop in the East End so disturbed the Doctor that he and Matthew took time out from rehearsals to stage one of the greatest mass rescues in the Doctor's career—the release of Twink's former associates from their imprisonment in the ship.
In spite of the fact that the Doctor often neglected the business of the opera to follow up some clue that seemed to be leading to the window–cleaner, Pippinella's beloved master was still not found. One day, when the Doctor had called a final dress rehearsal, it was discovered that the green canary and Jip were missing. Cheapside, who was assisting the Doctor by drilling the chorus and dance numbers, was all for finding a new prima donna.
'Tempermental hartists!' sniffed the cockney sparrow. 'I bet them two is off 'untin' for 'er window polisher. Say, Doc, what's the matter with me singin' her part? We could dye my feathers green and nobody'd know the difference.'
'Hah!' snorted Dab–Dab. 'If you so much as opened your cockney mouth you would empty the house in two minutes!'
'I like that!' replied Cheapside in a huff. 'I'm considered the most musical bird in these 'ere parts, I am!'
'Now, now,' admonished the Doctor. 'Pippinella must be found. We can hold up opening for a day or two. I'm sure she can't be far away.'
And Pippinella was found. She explained that she had seen a man in the circus enclosure who looked like her window–cleaner friend. Jip had gone with her to follow him across London. But in the smelly quarters of the docks even Jip's sensitive nose could not keep track of the scent.
The Doctor was most understanding.
'I know how much you miss him, Pippinella,' he said. 'But do be patient. As soon as the opera is over we will devote every minute to make a thorough search for him. Please promise me you won't run off again.'
'All right, Doctor,' replied the canary. 'I'll wait.'
The Canary Opera was a smashing success. Pippinella's solos, Maids, come out, the coach is here, The Harness Jingle and I'm a Midget Mascot were tremendous hits. She was so taken up with the excitement of being the toast of London that, for the time being, thoughts of her friend, the window–cleaner, were completely driven from her mind.
Many honours, too, came to the green canary because of the opera. She was dined and wined at the most famous restaurants in London. Admirers sent her baskets and bouquets of flowers; and a famous manufacturer of bird cages paid her a large salary to hop in and out of one of his cages in a store window, showing by her presence and sprightly manner, that she approved of the design.
The successful opera season came to a close. Twink went off to live with Hop, the clown from the circus, who had decided to retire. The pelicans and flamingoes had been returned to the naturalist from whom the Doctor had borrowed them for the chorus, and the thrushes and wrens had left for their native haunts. All that was left to do now, before the family could return to Puddleby while the Doctor and Pippinella went to look for the canary's friends, was for the circus animals and personnel to be placed in proper homes for their comfort and well being.
This the Doctor did with great care. He chartered a special ship to send the lion, the leopard, and the elephant back to Africa. The snakes went, too, and caused great consternation when they got out of the basket on the dock and started diving and wiggling among the passenger's baggage just for the fun of a good stretch. One old lady fainted dead away when she opened her bag and found one of them squirming among her shawls and laces.
However, they were captured and made the trip safely and happily back to their native soil where they became the talk of all snakedom with the fandango dance which they had learned for the circus and now performed for their new–found friends.
The day finally came when all the business of the circus had been completed. The enclosure was cleared of its equipment; nothing remained now except the Doctor's caravan—in which members of his household lived—and the smaller covered wagon which served Theodosia and Matthew Mugg as a home.
A vast throng of children—after presenting the Doctor with a huge bouquet of flowers—were departing tearfully sucking peppermint drops John Dolittle had given them as a farewell gift. The Doctor turned to face the members of his family who were gathered around him.
'I—a—er, have something to tell you,' he said. He paused, at a loss for the proper words.
Dab–Dab, quick to sense what was in the Doctor's mind, pushed forward to stand in front of him.
'No, John Dolittle,' she said crossly. 'Don't tell me we are not going home. I simply cannot stand another minute of this gypsy existence! My nerves are at breaking point!'
'There, there,' said John Dolittle, leaning forward to comfort her. 'I know it's been difficult. But you've done wonderfully. And I wouldn't even consider keeping you here. How soon will you be able to leave?
'Why, within the hour!' said Dab–Dab, brightening. 'I have one or two little things still to do.' She spreads her wings and, calling to the others to come and pick up their rubbish, flew right through the doorway of the wagon. Matthew and Theodosia also hustled off to complete their preparations while the Doctor just stood in the empty lot staring off into space.
Barely a moment elapsed before Dab–Dab thrust her head out of the wagon and looked at the Doctor with a worried expression on her kindly face.
'I just remembered something, Doctor,' said the duck. 'You didn't say what it was you had to tell us.'
'Why, I—er—a—you see, Dab–Dab,' he began.
'Don't tell me—I know,' she said, coming slowly down the wagon steps. 'You're not going to Puddleby with us. I might have guessed it. You have some notion of finding that window–cleaner fellow, haven't you, John Dolittle?'
'Yes,' said the Doctor. 'I made a promise and it must be fulfilled before I can return to Puddleby.'
'All right!' declared Dab–Dab. 'If that's the way you feel, then nobody goes to Puddleby until you do.'
'Oh, that isn't necessary, Dab–Dab,' remonstrated the Doctor. 'Perhaps the others want to go home.'
With that there was a chorus of denials; nobody wanted to go home without the Doctor.
'We can all help find Pip's friend!' shouted Gub–Gub. 'I'm a first class rooter!'
'Where do you think he's hiding?' asked the duck, all thoughts of Puddleby driven from her head.—'Under a cauliflower plant?'
'Jip will be better at hunting him out than any of us,' said the white mouse. 'He can track a person by sniffing the grass along the roadside.'
'Whitey would be valuable wherever doors are locked,' offered Jip. 'He can squeeze through a hole the size of a farthing.'
'How about me?' asked Too–Too, the owl. 'We may need to do some night work. And you know how well I see in the dark.'
Pippinella, perched on a discarded orange crate, listened to all this with a lifting heart. During the earlier proceedings she had become terribly downcast for she too had mistaken the Doctor's intentions. But when she heard with what enthusiasm the family accepted the change in plans she flew to the group and lit on the Doctor's high hat.
'I want you to know how much I appreciate this,' she said in a most gracious manner. 'Someday, perhaps, I can do something for you besides upsetting you plans.'
'Tut, tut,' said Dab–Dab, who was secretly a great admirer of the little prima donna. 'We frequently change our plans, don't we, Doctor?'
'Yes, indeed,' said John Dolittle. 'Now let's work out the beginning of our campaign. Pippinella, do you know the name of the town where the windmill stood? That seems the best place for us to start.'
'Yes,' replied the canary. 'It's called Wendlemere; a little town with a cathedral right in the middle and a river which makes a sort of loop around three sides of it.'
'The cathedral stands at one end of a large market square, doesn't it?' asked the Doctor.
'Yes,' said Pippinella. 'That's the town.'
'Fine,' said the Doctor. 'Now we're on thee trail. Did you ever hear your friend's name?'
'Never once,' said the canary. 'He was careful always to avoid giving any names. And, as I told you, so far as his life at the mill was concerned, no one was ever there to ask it.'
'Humph!' said the Doctor. 'It isn't much to go on, just the name of the town. Still, people have been found before today with no more information than that. I will do my best. Now, let's all go back to the caravan for supper. Dab–Dab, have we something extra nice? Some kippers and tea would taste good after this busy day.'
'Kippers!' squealed Gub–Gub. 'I'd rather have a kipper than a dozen truffles!'
During supper a lively discussion went on; everybody wanted to go along to hunt for the window–cleaner. But it was finally decided that only Jip and Pippinella should accompany the Doctor. Matthew and Theodosia were commissioned to see that Dab–Dab had sufficient food for the larder at all times; and the family all joined with Pippinella in making plans for the trip to the windmill.
In the morning the Doctor, Pippinella, and Jip were up and away early. It took them the whole day to complete the journey to Wendlemere and by the time they got there darkness had fallen.
'I'm going to have a look around,' said the Doctor. 'One can tell better at night if a place is occupied—by the lights in the windows, you know.'
'Smells are good at night,' too,' said Jip. 'The dampness makes them hang close to the ground. I'll go with you, if you don't mind, Doctor?'
'Certainly, Jip,' said the Doctor. 'Pippinella, you come on to my shoulder. We'll stroll around and see what we can see.'
The little party set out for the mill while the rest of the town slept. They went immediately to the foot of the hill on which the windmill stood, to see if any light was visible in the tower. But all was in darkness.
'Perhaps he's gone to bed,' said the canary hopefully. 'It's long after midnight. And he used to turn in early when we lived here before.'
'Yes,' said the Doctor, 'And I think that's what we better do, too. We'll find a room at the inn and wait until morning to investigate further.'
On the morrow they returned after a hasty breakfast to the home of the solitary philosopher. Their first glance at the mill from below the hill was quite discouraging. No smoke rose from the stove pipe that stuck out of the roof. Yet it was the hour when breakfast, if the mill was occupied, should be cooking. With a sinking feeling of failure, the Doctor, with Pippinella on his shoulder and Jip at his heels, hurried up the hill till finally he stood before the little gate in the ramshackle fence. The stone walk leading to the tower door showed no footprints of habitation.
Heavy at heart, the Doctor turned his head to speak to Pippinella.
'We've come on a wild goose chase, Pippinella,' he said, 'Your friend, evidently has been gone from here a long time.'
'I'm afraid you're right, Doctor,' said the canary. 'What do we do now?'
Jip jumped up and put his front paws on the Doctors leg.
'There's a man over there in the field,' said he. 'Why don't you ask him if he's seen the window–cleaner?'
'That's a good idea, Jip, said the Doctor. 'Perhaps he owns this place. He'd be sure to know something about his tenant if he did.'
The man, a weather–beaten, grey–haired countryman of about fifty years of age, turned out to be a civil fellow—only too willing to rest his plough and gossip, if he got the chance.
'No,' he said. 'I ain't seen nowt of that queer loon for—let me see—not for over a year. He used to pay me a few shillings a month for the use of the old mill. He'd bring me the money regular, himself, while he was here. Didn't like to have me come up and collect it. It seemed he hadn't no wish for human company around him. I never even heard what his business was.'
Suddenly the man peered sharply at Pippinella sitting on the Doctor's shoulder.
'That's queer, sir,' he said. 'That fellow you're lookin' for had a bird that the spittin' image of that one. Used to hang his cage on a hook outside the tower window—when the weather was good. But, of course, it couldn't be the same one. Yours seems sorta tame like—the way he sits there—not moving or nothing.'
The Doctor was relieved that the man did not pursue the subject further; it would be awkward to try to explain his relationship with birds and animals to this simple countryman.
'He wur surely a strange, strange man,' the farmer went on. 'I used to say to the wife, I'd say, "Maybe he's a hanarchist, a mixing dynamite and bombs up there in my mill—never did see a soul live so secret and solitary." "Oh, go along," she'd say, "no man with a face like his'n never mixed bombs to blow folks up with. He looks more to me like a minister—and not any of your simpering psalm–singing kind neither, but just a plain, honest man who thinks more of others than himself." That wur the wife's opinion. Howsomever, hanarchist or minister, he wur a queer duck all right.'
'Do you remember exactly,' the Doctor asked, 'what day it was you saw him last?'
The farmer called to his team to stand and he scratched his head.
'Aye,' he said, after a moment. 'I mind it wur the day I took the potatoes in off the north field. It rained about noon and I had to stop 'cause potatoes don't store good when they're wet. I hadn't even seen him go away. But his not coming with the rent told me that he'd gone off and I'd like as not ever see him again. Then, when I were starting for home I saw a man a crossin' down from the mill to the gate. It wur him. He wur running, crazy like. "So," I thinks to myself, "he's come back, 'as he?" Minding he never like to have me come to see him, I thinks to meself: "He'll be round to my place afore long with his rent and I'll not bother." And I goes off home in the rain. But he never comed and I never seen him from the fields here while I was ploughing. And at the end of the week I goes up to the mill, anyhow. But he wasn't there.'
'Yes, but what day was that?' asked the Doctor.
'It wur the day I took the potatoes off the north field,' the farmer repeated, 'end of the first week in September. That'll be twelve months ago come Friday.'
'And have you seen anyone else around the mill, either before or since?'
'Not a soul. Nobody ever comes up here.'
'Thank you,' said the Doctor. And bidding the farmer good–bye he set off to return to the town.