“I am very glad to know you,” said the Doctor. “But I’m afraid I shan’t be able to take on any more crew.”
“Why, but Captain,” said the able seaman, “you surely ain’t going to face deep-sea weather with nothing more than this bit of a lad to help you—and with a cutter that big!”
The Doctor assured him that he was; but the man didn’t go away. He hung around and argued. He told us he had known of many ships being sunk through “undermanning.” He got out what he called his stiffikit—a paper which said what a good sailor he was—and implored us, if we valued our lives, to take him.
But the Doctor was quite firm—polite but determined—and finally the man walked sorrowfully away, telling us he never expected to see us alive again.
Callers of one sort and another kept us quite busy that morning. The Doctor had no sooner gone below to stow away his notebooks than another visitor appeared upon the gangplank. This was a most extraordinary-looking black man. The only other negroes I had seen had been in circuses, where they wore feathers and bone necklaces and things like that. But this one was dressed in a fashionable frock coat with an enormous bright red cravat. On his head was a straw hat with a gay band; and over this he held a large green umbrella. He was very smart in every respect except his feet. He wore no shoes or socks.
“Pardon me,” said he, bowing elegantly, “but is this the ship of the physician Dolittle?”
“Yes,” I said, “did you wish to see him?”
“I did—if it will not be discommodious,” he answered.
“Who shall I say it is?”
“I am Bumpo Kahbooboo, Crown Prince of Jolliginki.”
I ran downstairs at once and told the Doctor.
“How fortunate!” cried John Dolittle. “My old friend Bumpo! Well, well!—He’s studying at Oxford, you know. How good of him to come all this way to call on me!” And he tumbled up the ladder to greet his visitor.
The strange black man seemed to be overcome with joy when the Doctor appeared and shook him warmly by the hand.
“News reached me,” he said, “that you were about to sail upon a voyage. I hastened to see you before your departure. I am sublimely ecstasied that I did not miss you.”
“You very nearly did miss us,” said the Doctor. “As it happened, we were delayed somewhat in getting the necessary number of men to sail our boat. If it hadn’t been for that, we would have been gone three days ago.”
“How many men does your ship’s company yet require?” asked Bumpo.
“Only one,” said the Doctor—“But it is so hard to find the right one.”
“Methinks I detect something of the finger of Destination in this,” said Bumpo. “How would I do?”
“Splendidly,” said the Doctor. “But what about your studies? You can’t very well just go off and leave your university career to take care of itself, you know.”
“I need a holiday,” said Bumpo. “Even had I not gone with you, I intended at the end of this term to take a three-months’ absconsion—But besides, I shall not be neglecting my edification if I accompany you. Before I left Jolliginki my august father, the King, told me to be sure and travel plenty. You are a man of great studiosity. To see the world in your company is an opportunity not to be sneezed upon. No, no, indeed.”
“How did you like the life at Oxford?” asked the Doctor.
“Oh, passably, passably,” said Bumpo. “I liked it all except the algebra and the shoes. The algebra hurt my head and the shoes hurt my feet. I threw the shoes over a wall as soon as I got out of the college quadrilateral this morning; and the algebra I am happily forgetting very fast—I liked Cicero—Yes, I think Cicero’s fine—so simultaneous. By the way, they tell me his son is rowing for our college next year—charming fellow.”
The Doctor looked down at the black man’s huge bare feet thoughtfully a moment.
“Well,” he said slowly, “there is something in what you say, Bumpo, about getting education from the world as well as from the college. And if you are really sure that you want to come, we shall be delighted to have you. Because, to tell you the truth, I think you are exactly the man we need.”
II
Goodbye!
Two days after that we had all in readiness for our departure.
On this voyage Jip begged so hard to be taken that the Doctor finally gave in and said he could come. Polynesia and Chee-Chee were the only other animals to go with us. Dab-Dab was left in charge of the house and the animal family we were to leave behind.
Of course, as is always the way, at the last moment we kept remembering things we had forgotten; and when we finally closed the house up and went down the steps to the road, we were all burdened with armfuls of odd packages.
Halfway to the river, the Doctor suddenly remembered that he had left the stockpot boiling on the kitchen-fire. However, we saw a blackbird flying by who nested in our garden, and the Doctor asked her to go back for us and tell Dab-Dab about it.
Down at the river-wall we found a great crowd waiting to see us off.
Standing right near the gangplank were my mother and father. I hoped that they would not make a scene, or burst into tears or anything like that. But as a matter of fact they behaved quite well—for parents. My mother said something about being sure not to get my feet wet; and my father just smiled a crooked sort of smile, patted me on the back and wished me luck. Goodbyes are awfully uncomfortable things and I was glad when it was over and we passed on to the ship.
We were a little surprised not to see Matthew Mugg among the crowd. We had felt sure that he
