Part IV Chapter 7 Doctor Dolittle's Circus by Hugh Lofting
THE PERFECT PASTURE
In the mean time John Dolittle was making Blossom fulfill the other parts of his bargain. It was not long after the circus had opened at Bridgeton that the elephant sent Jip for the Doctor because he was suffering from an acute attack of rheumatism--brought on by living in an exceedingly damp and dirty stable.
The poor creature was in considerable pain. The Doctor, after examining, prescribed massage. Blossom was sent for and ordered to buy a barrel of a special costly kind of balm. A few weeks before, of course, the ringmaster would have flatly refused to go to such an expense for his animal's comfort. But now, with John Dolittle bringing him in the biggest business that his show had ever seen, he was ready to do almost anything to please him. The balm was sent for right away and then the Doctor demanded six strong men to help him.
Massaging an elephant is no light work. A large audience gathered in the menagerie to watch the six men and the Doctor crawling over the elephant's body, rubbing and pummelling the ointment into his hide till the sweat ran from their foreheads.
Then the Doctor ordered a new stable built for the big creature, with a special kind of wooden floor with drainage under it and a lot of other up-to-date features. And, although this work was also expensive, carpenters were brought in and it was completed in three hours. The result was that the elephant got well in a very short time.
The Doctor also drew up rules for the menagerie-keeper which improved the condition of all the other animals. And in spite of the fact that the keeper grumbled a good deal about "running a zoo like a beauty parlor," Blossom made him understand that he would be discharged immediately if the Doctor's new regulations were not strictly obeyed.
Poor Nino was still pretty sick. He was getting better, but his recovery was dreadfully slow. The Doctor visited him twice a day. But Blossom now realized that the cob's act, which had always been done under his own guidance, could never take the place of the far finer performance of Beppo and the Doctor. Beppo, his age and appearance notwithstanding, was a much cleverer horse than Nino.
Well, the week wore on toward its end. John Dolittle had made arrangements with Blossom that after the last performance on Saturday he and Beppo were to leave and go away to a certain farmer who had agreed to keep the old horse in good grazing for the remainder of his days. He was to have all the oats he wanted and white radishes (a delicacy that Beppo was particularly fond of) twice a week. The Doctor and Beppo were going to inspect this farm, and if they didn't like it, another one to their satisfaction was to be found.
The last performance was over; the big tent was being pulled down and the Doctor and Beppo were all ready for their departure. The old horse's luggage consisted of a blanket (a new one that Doctor had made Blossom buy as a farewell present) which he wore. The Doctor's luggage was his little black bag and a small bundle, which was also carried on Beppo's back. John Dolittle was standing at the gate, his hand on Beppo's bridle waiting for Matthew, who had run back to the wagon to get some sandwiches which Dab-Dab was preparing.
Presently he saw Blossom hurrying across the enclosure in a great state of excitement. A little way behind walked a short, very smartly-dressed man.
"Listen, Doc," panted the ringmaster coming up, "I've just had the biggest offer I ever got in my life. That toff coming along is the proprietor of the Manchester Amphitheatre. He wants my outfit to show in his theatre--one of the biggest in the country--week after next. And 'e especially wants Beppo. What do you think he guarantees us? A hundred pounds a day! And maybe more if--"
"No!" the Doctor interrupted firmly, holding up his hand. "Beppo may not have many more years to live, but what he has he's going to spend in comfort. Tell that to your manager. Beppo retires--to-day--from the circus business for good."
And without waiting for his sandwiches, he led the old horse out of the enclosure and hurried down the road.
Beppo and John Dolittle had not gone very far before they were overtaken by Too-Too.
"Doctor," said the owl, "I came after you to let you know about the money."
"Too-Too," John Dolittle replied, "at the present moment the subject of money is more than usually distasteful to me. Beppo and I are trying to get away from the very smell of it."
"But just think what you can do with money, Doctor," said Too-Too.
"Yes, that's the trouble with the beastly stuff. It's the power of it that makes it such a curse."
"Dab-Dab asked me," Too-Too went on, "to come and let you know how much the pushmi-pullyu had made this week at Bridgeton, because she thought perhaps you might think of retiring to Puddleby when you heard. I only just got it figured out--deducting Blossom's share and the bills we owe the tradespeople. It was a big piece of arithmetic, I can tell you. My estimate was way off. Instead of sixteen pounds, we made twenty-six pounds, thirteen shillings and tenpence, clear profit."
"Humph," murmured the Doctor. "It's a large amount, but not enough for us to retire on, Too-Too. Still it would go quite a long way toward it. Tell Dab-Dab to keep it safely for me and we will talk over the matter when I get back. I am returning to-morrow, you know. Good-by--and thank you very much for bringing me the news."
Now, the Doctor had in his pocket the address of the farmer to whom they were going. Imagine his surprise on reading his destination to find that it was the same farm as the one where his old friend, the plow horse, lived!
There were hearty greetings, a good deal of astonishment and much joy at the meeting. The old plow horse, beaming through his green spectacles, was introduced to Beppo and Beppo was introduced to him. It was curious that although the Doctor had known the plow horse for so long he had never heard his name. And it was only on introducing the two old horses to one another that he learned it for the first time. It was Toggle.
"You know," said the plow horse, "I am tremendously glad to see you both, but I am a little sorry, for Beppo's sake, that it was to this farm that Blossom sent him. The farmer himself is a very decent follow, but this pasture I have here leaves a good deal to be desired."
"But we don't have to stay here," said the Doctor. "I told Blossom that if it did not meet with Blossom's approval he must find another. In what way is this place unsuitable? Is the grass bad?"
"No," said Toggle, "the grass is all right--a little rank in August if there's much rain, but it's sweet enough most of the year. But the meadow slopes the wrong way. You see, this hillside is facing northeast. It's only in midsummer that you get any sun. It stays behind the hill the rest of the year. Then the prevailing wind is a cold northeaster that blows across the meadow, and there's little protection from it--excepts along that hedge over there and one soon eats up that bit of grass."
"Well, tell me," said the Doctor, turning to Beppo, "what, for you, would be the ideal, the most attractive place for an old horses' home?"
"The place I've always dreamed of," said Beppo, gazing across the landscape with a wistful look in his old eyes, "is like this-- part of it is sloping and part of it is flat. Slopes are such a nice change: the grass is nearer to your nose, and the flats are restful to get back to after the slopes. Then it has trees, big spreading trees with fat trunks--the kind horses love to stand under and think--after a hearty meal. It has a copse where herbs and wild roots grow, the sorts we love to nibble for a change--especially the wild mint, which is soothing to the stomach when you've eaten too much. It has good water--not a muddy, little pond, but a decent brook where the water is always sparkling and clear. In a hollow it has a nice old shelter with a dry floor and a mossy, tiled roof that doesn't let the rain in. The pasture varies: some places are firm, croppy* turf; others are deep, luscious, long hay-grass with buttercups and fragrant wild flowers mixed in it. At the top of the hilly part you can get a view of the sunsets to the westward and the south. And on the summit there is a good firm post to scratch your neck on. I love to watch the sun go down as I scratch my neck of an evening. The whole place is protected with good fences from snappy dogs and worrisome people. It is quiet. It is peaceful. And that, John Dolittle, is the place where I would spend my old age."
"Humph!" murmured the Doctor when Beppo had ended. "Your description sounds delightful--almost like the place where I'd wish to spend my own old age--thought I suppose I'd want a little more furniture than a scratching post. Toggle, do you know of a pasture such as this that Beppo speaks of?"
"I do, indeed, Doctor," said Toggle. "Come with me and I'll show you."
Then the plow horse led them over the brow of the hill and down the other side a way. Here, facing the sunny southward, they looked over a farm gate into the loveliest meadow you ever saw. It was almost as if some fairy had made old Beppo's wish come true, for it was the retreat he had described in every detail: there was the clump of great elm trees; there was the copse and the sparkling brook; there was the snug shelter in the hollow; and on the summit of the slope, against the red glow of the setting sun, stood the post for Beppo to scratch his neck on.
"This is it, Doctor," said Beppo quietly. "This is the spot--just as I had always planned it. No horse could ask for any better place to pass his old age."
"It's wonderful," said the Doctor, himself entirely captivated by the beauty of the scene. "It has character that meadow. Does this land belong to your farmer, Toggle?"
"No," said the plow horse. "I've often tried to break in here and graze. And I did get through the hedge, once or twice, but the owner always chased me out again. It belongs to a farmer who lives in the little house down there with the red roof."
"I see," said the Doctor. "I wonder how much a piece of ground like that would cost."
"Not very much, I shouldn't think," said Toggle. "Although it is large, the farmer has never raised anything but hay on it."
"But, Doctor," said Beppo, "why buy it? I thought you said Blossom was going to pay for my pensioning off."
"Yes," said the Doctor. "But he has only agreed to pay for your board and lodging. I've always had an idea I'd like to start a Home for Retired Cab and Wagon Horses. And this place is such an ideal one for aged horses that I thought, if I could, I'd buy it. Then we would form 'The Retired Cab and Wagon Horses' Association' and you could keep the place for your own for good."
"What a marvelous idea!" cried both horses together.
"But have you got enough money, Doctor?" asked Beppo. "Jip often told me that you were as poor as a church mouse."
"That is so--more or less," the Doctor agreed. "Money with me has always been a most uncertain thing. But, as you heard Too-Too come and tell me shortly after we had left the circus, I am now some twenty-six pounds to the good. I owe a sailor a lot of money for a boat, but his need is not so urgent as your own--I sent a bird to find out, so I know. I can make some more money later on to pay him with. Of course, twenty-six pounds is not enough to buy a piece of land that big, outright. But perhaps the farmer will let me pay so much down and the rest by installments every year. If he will, it become yours right away and nobody can take it away from you --unless I fail in my payments. Now, you two wait here and I'll go and see him about it."
Leaving the two horses by the gate, the Doctor set off across country for the little red-roofed house that Toggle had pointed out.