"You
mustn't do that. That wouldn't be right."
"Oh, I didn't mean real sick," answered the
Cat's-meat-Man. "Just a little something to
make them droopy-like was what I had reference
to. But as you say, maybe it ain't quite
fair on the animals. But they'll get sick
anyway, because the old women always give 'em too
much to eat. And look, all the farmers 'round
about who had lame horses and weak lambs--
they'd come. Be an animal-doctor."
When the Cat's-meat-Man had gone the
parrot flew off the window on to the Doctor's table
and said,
"That man's got sense. That's what you
ought to do. Be an animal-doctor. Give the
silly people up--if they haven't brains enough
to see you're the best doctor in the world. Take
care of animals instead--THEY'll soon find it out.
Be an animal-doctor."
"Oh, there are plenty of animal-doctors," said
John Dolittle, putting the flower-pots outside on
the window-sill to get the rain.
"Yes, there ARE plenty," said Polynesia. "But
none of them are any good at all. Now listen,
Doctor, and I'll tell you something. Did you
know that animals can talk?"
"I knew that parrots can talk," said the Doctor.
"Oh, we parrots can talk in two languages--
people's language and bird-language," said
Polynesia proudly. "If I say, `Polly wants a
cracker,' you understand me. But hear this:
Ka-ka oi-ee, fee-fee?"
"Good Gracious!" cried the Doctor. "What
does that mean?"
"That means, `Is the porridge hot yet?'--in
bird-language.
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