Part I Chapter 12 Doctor Dolittle's Return by Hugh Lofting
THE MOON MUSEUM
But all of us, including John Dolittle, saw that it was still probably a matter of some weeks before he would be able to carry on a usual life the same as other people. He could not yet pass through an ordinary door without going down on all fours; he could not sit in the biggest armchair without the arms breaking off; he could not grasp a common pencil or pen in his huge fingers and make it write properly.
This annoyed him greatly. He was so eager to get at his notes. He planned to write a new book, a book about the moon.
"It will be the greatest thing I have ever done, Stubbins," he said—"that is, of course, if I make a good job of it. And even if I don't, it will at least contain information of great value for future writers on natural history. The general public will probably begin by thinking I'm a great humbug or a splendid liar. But the day will come when they'll believe me."
I, too, of course was very keen for him to get at those notes. Being his secretary I should have to help him and so would get a glimpse of what studies and experiments he had made. But Dab-Dab was of quite another mind about it.
"Tommy," she said, "there's no hurry about that book he wants to write. I don't mean to say it isn't important—though, for my part, I can't see much sense in mixing up the moon and the earth, as though life weren't mixed up enough as it is for simple country folk. But the main thing is this: you know how he is—once he gets started on a new line of work he goes at it like a crazy man, night and day; doesn't stop for meals; doesn't stop for sleep; nothing but work. He isn't strong enough yet for that sort of thing. For pity's sake keep him away from those notes—at least till he is perfectly well."
As a matter of fact, there was no urgent need at present for the housekeeper's fears. The Doctor himself saw that there was not much sense in his attempting to write a long book until he could move round his study without upsetting things, or smashing delicate laboratory apparatus with clumsy experiments.
By daytime he contented himself with exercising and with some gardening. He had brought many different sorts of seeds with him from the moon, also roots of plants. He wanted to see if these could be grown in our world, and what differences they would show in new climate and conditions. Some were vegetables and fruits, good to eat. In these, of course, Gub-Gub was especially interested; and he immediately started to keep notes on his own account, planning to make a new volume for his famous Encyclopedia of Food. This volume was to be called Moon Meals.
With the pig's assistance the Doctor and I planted rows and rows of new and strange-shaped seeds. All the rows were carefully marked with wooden labels giving the date of planting and the kind of soil. The temperature, the air-pressure, the amount of rainfall, etc., were noted down from day to day in a book we called the Garden Diary. With one kind of these seeds the Doctor told me to be particularly careful.
"This plant," said he—"if it comes up, Stubbins—may prove exceedingly useful. From it I got the leaves I made my clothes out of—you know, the coat I was wearing when I arrived. Extraordinarily tough and pliable. I found a way of tanning them like leather. Every bit as good as real cloth."
In that great bulk of baggage which he had brought down with him were also the eggs and grubs of insects: ants, bees, water-flies, moths and what-not. These had to have special hatching-boxes made for them, so they could be kept warm during cool nights; while others had to be planted in proper places in the garden, among grasses or trees, where they would be likely to find food and conditions to their liking.
Then again, he had brought sacks full of geological specimens; that is, rocks, pieces of marble, something that looked like coal and all manner of samples out of the hand-made mines he had dug in the mountains of the moon. Among them were pieces that had precious stones in them—or what looked like precious stones—pebbles and crystals that could have been opals, sapphires, amethysts and rubies. And fossils he had too—shells of curious snails, fishes, lizards and strange frogs that no longer lived either on earth or moon—all turned now to stone as hard as flint.
To take care of these we added another department to the Doctor's many-sided establishment. We called it the Moon Museum. In a disused harness-room of the big stable I set up shelves round the walls and even showcases with glass tops. And here were placed all the fossils and geological specimens along with some very beautiful pressed flowers and leaves which had also come down in the baggage.
Jip suggested that I should put the cat there, in a glass case too—so that she wouldn't get hurt.
I was very proud of my job when it was done. I must say it did look like a regular museum; and the Doctor was no end pleased with its workmanlike, scientific appearance.
"You have a real gift for order and neatness in these things, Stubbins," he said. "That's the trouble with me—never could be orderly or neat. My sister Sarah—she used to be housekeeper for me, you know—she was always at me about my untidiness. In fact that's why she left me to go and get married. Poor dear Sarah, I wonder how she's getting on. An excellent woman-in many ways. But this, Stubbins, this is splendid! And you've done it all yourself. What would I do without you?"
But though with one thing and another the Doctor managed to keep quite busy during the daylight hours, it was not so with the evenings and nights. Usually in times past he had filled this part of the day writing in his study, doing experiments in his laboratory and, once in a while, reading aloud in the kitchen when the animals of his household could persuade him to leave his work and amuse them.
It had never been his habit to take much sleep. In fact I would often, after I had left him late at night, find him again the next morning working away with his lamp still burning, apparently quite unaware that the morning sun was shining in his window.
But now it was very different. He retired to his bedroom in the big hall regularly after supper; and I, knowing that he would not sleep for hours, would sit up and read the newspapers to him or just chat with him of this and that.
As I have said, I had been careful not to ask him questions about the moon until he wished to speak of it himself. I am proud of my own patience in this; for any one can imagine how keen I was to learn how he had at last got away from the Moon Man—and a thousand other things besides.
So far he had said little or nothing of his last months in that other world. But it was natural that in our talks after supper he would sooner or later get started. And at last one evening he did.
"By the way, Stubbins," said he, "what became of Bumpo? He was here with you when I left. Where is he now?"
"He was gone before I got down from the moon, Doctor," I said. "He left messages for us with Matthew. It seems he wanted to go back to Oxford to visit some of his old friends and perhaps to take up some new studies there too. He couldn't tell just how long he would be gone. But he said he would certainly Come and visit you again before he went back to Africa."
"Well, I'm glad of that," said the Doctor. "Fine fellow, Prince Bumpo, one of the best.... Yes, yes. There have been many times when I don't know what I would have done without him. But tell me, Stubbins, do you remember how long it took the Giant Moth to bring you down?"
"Not exactly, Doctor," I answered. "Passing through the dead belt, I got awfully sick, dazed and mixed up. And then my mind was so full of worry about having left you up there alone, I don't know that I should have remembered anyway."
"Humph!" said he thoughtfully. "It's a pity you can't remember. I wanted to make a little calculation between the speed of your moth and that of my locust—that is for the downward journey. But you have no cause to blame yourself for leaving me. You never had a chance to do anything else. You see, the Moon Man, Otho Bludge, wanted to get rid of you: but he wanted to keep me. I had quite a time with him when I wanted to get back here. That is after—"
I interrupted him. I knew something interesting was coming—that at last he was going to speak of how he got away. Many more ears besides mine wanted to hear that story.
"Pardon me, Doctor," I said. "But would you mind if I got the animals in, so they can listen? I know they are all longing to hear what happened after I left you."
"Why, yes, certainly," he said. "Bring them in by all means. As a matter of fact, I meant to have told you all, before this, about my last days up there. But I have been talking those moon languages for such a long time, I found I had grown sort of rusty and hesitating in speaking the languages of my own world. But they are coming back to me now and I think I can manage all right—that is, if you don't mind my speaking slowly."
"Of course, Doctor," I said as I got up, "we understand that. But you will promise not to over-tire yourself, won't you? Send us all away the first minute you feel weary."
He said he would. And I ran out into the garden to go round to the kitchen. In the dusk on the lawn I bumped into Matthew Mugg, who had just arrived to pay John Dolittle a visit.
"The Doctor's going to tell us how he got off the moon, Matthew," I said. "Would you like to come and listen?"
"You bet I would, Tommy," said he. "But of course if he talks in them animal lingos I won't understand the same as what you will. Never mind, you can explain to me afterwards. But I wouldn't miss it for anything. No, you bet I'll come!"
Then I ran on and found the animals gathered round the big fireplace in the kitchen. Here I spied another visitor, Cheapside. The sparrow had "popped over" from London to hear the latest news of his old friend. They all let out a whoop of joy when I told them that at last they were going to hear the tale they had waited for so long.
And so, with two guests added to our own company, it was quite a circle that gathered round the Doctor that night. I had brought pencil and notebooks with me. For some months back I had been studying shorthand. And I was anxious to see if I could take down his words as fast as he spoke them. "Ah!" whispered the white mouse, tittering with eager excitement as he settled down to listen, "Tommy, this is like old times!"