Part I Chapter 11 Doctor Dolittle's Return by Hugh Lofting
THE DOCTOR'S ACCIDENT
By the end of the week the Doctor was showing a great improvement in health. So far he had lived almost entirely on milk, eggs and lettuce. These three foods seemed to strengthen him better than anything else. And it was a good thing that they did. Because we could not have afforded a more expensive diet. The lettuce, of course, cost practically nothing while we could grow it in the garden. (Gub-Gub and I planted several new beds of it.) Just the same, I was gladder than ever that I had my bookkeeping job. I saved every penny I could out of the three shillings and sixpence a week, in case anything unexpected should turn up which might require a special lot of money.
I still slept in the Doctor's tent in case he should need anything during the night. One morning early he called me to him and said,
"Stubbins, I'm feeling pretty well. I think I'll try to get up to-day."
"But, Doctor," I said, "are you sure you'll be strong enough?"
"No, I'm not sure," he said. "But the only way to find out is to try. Help me into that suit which Theodosia made for me, will you?"
I was very anxious. At the same time I was very glad. I helped him on with his clothes; but when it came to helping him to stand up and walk, I found I wasn't much use. Though I measured then something over five feet and a quarter, he had to bend down to reach my shoulder. And he was terribly afraid he might fall on me.
However, after I had cut a long walking-stick for him out of the forest, he managed to hobble around the tent pretty well. Then he got more adventurous still and wanted to go out into the garden. I did my best to persuade him not to but he tried it anyway. He actually got half-way across the lawn before he sank down from weariness.
The next day he did better still. It was strange to see his towering form walking about the turf, his head occasionally disappearing among the leaves of the high elm-trees. This time after a few rests he said he would like to go as far as the Zoo enclosure. And when he got to it he actually stepped over the ten-foot wall instead of bothering with the door.
After that he was impatient to get into the house. There was one door to the old building which was never used by us. Closed up for years now, its faded green paint and tarnished brass knocker faced towards the Long Lawn, the same as did the back door. But it was always known for some reason or other as the side door. The Doctor was sitting against one of the elms, staring at it while taking a rest.
"You know, Stubbins," said he, "I believe I could get through that door."
"Oh, Doctor," I said, "why, it isn't half your height!"
"I didn't mean to try it standing up," he said. "But by lying down and sort of worming my way in I think I might manage it. You see, it's a double door. A very long time ago, before the days of my great-grandfather, they used to use that door for garden parties—in fact it was the main door. There was a drive running up to it too, close to the house, where the pæony beds are now. Just open it and take a few measurements for me, will you? It is my hips that will be the difficulty. If they'll go through the rest of me will."
So I got the long garden tape and measured the width of the Doctor's hips. Then after hunting with Dab-Dab through all the drawers in the house I found the key to the side door. Its hinges creaked with age and rust as we swung both halves of it open.
I went back to the Doctor.
"It looks to me as if it should be all right," I said—"that is, as far as the width of the doorframe is concerned. But what are you going to do when you get inside?"
"Oh, the headroom of the hall there is extra high," he said. "Let's try it, Stubbins."
Well, that was when we had our accident. By wriggling and squirming the Doctor got in—halfway. There he stuck. Dab-Dab was in a terrible state of mind. I pushed him to see if I could get him all the way in. Then I pulled at him to see if I could get him out. But I couldn't budge him either way. I had made a mistake of six inches in my measurements.
"We had better get some carpenters and workmen in, Tommy," said Dab-Dab. "We certainly can't leave him like this."
"No, don't do that," said the Doctor. "You'll have the whole town here gaping at me. Get Matthew to come."
So I sent off Too-Too to bring the Cats'-meat-Man to the rescue.
Matthew scratched his head when he saw the Doctor's legs sticking out into the garden and the other half of him inside the house.
"Well, now, wait a minute, Tommy," said he. "Yer see that fan-light window over the door? If you give me a saw and a ladder I can maybe cut away the 'ead of the door-frame."
"But won't the bricks come tumbling down, then?" I asked.
"No, I don't think so," said Matthew. "The frame of the window-arch will 'old the wall up. Give me a saw. D'yer mind if I stand on top of you, Doctor?"
"Not a bit," said John Dolittle. "Only get me either in or out. Don't leave me as I am."
I got a saw; and Matthew—who was a very handy man with tools—climbed up on top of the Doctor and sawed away the door-head. This gave us, after we had got the glass out of the window, another foot and a half clearance. The Doctor squirmed and wriggled some more.
"Ah!" he said presently. "I think I can manage now. But I'll have to go in, not out."
We next drove a stake into the ground to give him something to push against with his feet. The rest of the animals stood around while, with much grunting and puffing, he finally forced the whole of his big body into the hall. He lay down with a sigh.
"Splendid," he said, "splendid!"
"But you can't sit up—where you are, Doctor, can you?" I asked.
"Half a mo', Doctor," said Matthew. "Wait till I cut a 'ole in the ceilin'. We can put the boards back afterwards so no one would know the difference. Wait while I run upstairs. I'll 'ave you comfortable."
The Cats'-meat-Man ran round by the kitchen stairs and soon we heard him sawing away at the floor above. Bits of plaster began falling on the Doctor; but Chee-Chee and the white mouse cleared them off him as fast as they fell.
Before long a hole appeared in the hall ceiling big enough even for the Doctor's head to go through.
"Thank you, Matthew," said John Dolittle. "What would I do without you?"
He hoisted himself into a sitting position, and his head disappeared from my sight into the opening.
"Ah!" I heard him say with a sigh. "Here I am, home at last! Upstairs and downstairs at the same time. Splendid!"
After he had taken a rest he managed to turn himself right around inside the hall. Then, facing the door once more, he tried to get out into the garden. It was a hard job. He got stuck again half-way.
"Listen, Doctor," said the white mouse, "and I'll tell you what we mice do when we want to get through a specially small hole."
"I wish you would!" said the Doctor, puffing.
"First you breathe in, deep," said Whitey. "Then you breathe out, long. Then you hold your breath. Then you shut your eyes and think that the hole is only half as big as it is. Of course if you're a mouse you think that a cat is coming after you as well. But you needn't bother about that. Try it. You'll see. You'll slide through like silk. Now, a deep breath—in, out—and don't forget to shut your eyes. Do it by feeling. Just imagine you're a mouse."
"All right," said the Doctor. "I'll try. It's hard on the imagination, but it should be awfully good for my figure."
Whether there was anything in Whitey's advice or not, I don't know. But, anyway, at the second attempt the Doctor got through all right and scrambled out on the lawn laughing like a schoolboy.
We were all very happy now that he could get both in and out of the house. Right away we brought in the mattresses from the tent under the trees and turned the big hall into a bedroom for him. He said he found it very comfortable, even if he did have to pull his knees up a bit when he wanted to sleep.
Before long, finding himself so much better, John Dolittle gave all his attention to bringing his size down to a natural one. First he tried exercise. We rigged up a heavy sweater for him made out of a couple of eiderdown quilts. And in this he ran up and down the Long Lawn before breakfast. His thundering tread shook the whole garden till the dishes rattled on the pantry shelves and the pictures began falling from the walls in the parlour.
But this did not thin him down fast enough to satisfy him. Some one suggested massage. So we laid him out on the lawn and Matthew, Chee-Chee and I pommelled and pounded him for hours. He said it reminded him of the time when the elephant fell sick in the circus and he and all the crew had climbed aboard the animal with ladders to rub the pains out of it, till everybody had to stop with stiff muscles.
Gub-Gub asked why we didn't use the lawn-roller on him. But we decided this would be a little too drastic.
"Why don't you try it on yourself, Gubby?" Jip said. "Your figure could do with a little taking down, too."
"What's the matter with my figure?" said Gub-Gub, gazing down at his ample curves. "Why, I wouldn't change it for anything!"
It proved to be a slow business for the poor Doctor, this getting back to ordinary size. But he certainly kept at it with a will. And soon with the diet, the exercise and the massage (besides, of course, the change of climate and gravity) he began to look more like himself.