章节正文
all the way to Oxenthorpe, another town ten
miles off, to see a different doctor.
Then his sister, Sarah Dolittle, came to him
and said,
"John, how can you expect sick people to
come and see you when you keep all these animals
in the house? It's a fine doctor would have
his parlor full of hedgehogs and mice! That's
the fourth personage these animals have driven
away. Squire Jenkins and the Parson say they
wouldn't come near your house again--no matter
how sick they are. We are getting poorer
every day. If you go on like this, none of the
best people will have you for a doctor."
"But I like the animals better than the `best
people'," said the Doctor.
"You are ridiculous," said his sister, and
walked out of the room.
So, as time went on, the Doctor got more and
more animals; and the people who came to see
him got less and less. Till at last he had no one
left--except the Cat's-meat-Man, who didn't
mind any kind of animals. But the Cat's-meat
Man wasn't very rich and he only got sick once
a year--at Christmas-time, when he used to give
the Doctor sixpence for a bottle of medicine.
Sixpence a year wasn't enough to live on--
even in those days, long ago; and if the Doctor
hadn't had some money saved up in his money-
box, no one knows what would have happened.
And he kept on getting still more pets; and of
course it cost a lot to feed them. And the money
he had saved up grew littler and littler.
Then he sold his piano, and let the mice live
in a bureau-drawer. But the money he got for
that too began to go, so he sold the brown suit
he wore on Sundays and went on becoming
poorer and poorer.
And now, when he walked down the street
in his high hat, people would say to one another,
"There goes John Dolittle, M.D.! There was a
time when he was the best known doctor in the
West Country--Look at him now--He hasn't
any money and his stockings are full of holes!"
But the dogs and the cats and the children
still ran up and followed him through the town
--the same as they had done when he was rich.
THE SECOND CHAPTER
ANIMAL LANGUAGE
IT happened one day that the Doctor was sitting in his kitchen talking
with the Cat's-meat-Man who had come to see him with a stomach-ache.
"Why don't you give up being a people's doctor, and be an animal-doctor?"
asked the Cat's-meat-Man.
The parrot, Polynesia, was sitting in the window
looking out at the rain and singing a sailor-song to herself.
She stopped singing and started to listen.
"You see, Doctor," the Cat's-meat-Man went
on, "you know all about animals--much more
than what these here vets do. That book you
wrote--about cats, why, it's wonderful! I can't
read or write myself--or maybe _I_'D write some
books. But my wife, Theodosia, she's a scholar,
she is. And she read your book to me. Well,
it's wonderful--that's all can be said--wonderful.
You might have been a cat yourself. You
know the way they think. And listen: you can
make a lot of money doctoring animals. Do
you know that? You see, I'd send all the old
women who had sick cats or dogs to you. And
if they didn't get sick fast enough, I could put
something in the meat I sell 'em to make 'em
sick, see?"
"Oh, no," said the Doctor quickly. "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."
"My! You don't say so!" said the Doctor.
"You never talked that way to me before."
"What would have been the good?" said
Polynesia, dusting some cracker-crumbs off her
left wing. "You wouldn't have understood me
if I had."
"Tell me some more," said the Doctor, all
excited; and he rushed over to the dresser-drawer
and came back with the butcher's book and a
pencil. "Now don't go too fast--and I'll write
it down. This is interesting--very interesting
--something quite new. Give me the Birds'
A.B.C. first--slowly now."
So that was the way the Doctor came to know
that animals had a language of their own and
could talk to one another. And all that afternoon,
while it was raining, Polynesia sat on the
kitchen table giving him bird words to put down
in the book.
At tea-time, when the dog, Jip, came in, the
parrot said to the Doctor, "See, HE'S talking to
you."
"Looks to me as though he were scratching
his ear," said the Doctor.
"But animals don't always speak with their
mouths," said the parrot in a high voice, raising
her eyebrows. "They talk with their ears,
with their feet, with their tails--with everything.
Sometimes they don't WANT to make a
noise. Do you see now the way he's twitching
up one side of his nose?"
"What's that mean?" asked the Doctor.
"That means, `Can't you see that it has
stopped raining?'" Polynesia answered. "He
is asking you a question. Dogs nearly always
use their noses for asking questions."
After a while, with the parrot's help, the
Doctor got to learn the language of the animals
so well that he could talk to them himself and
understand everything they said. Then he gave
up being a people's doctor altogether.
As soon as the Cat's-meat-Man had told every
one that John Dolittle was going to become an
animal-doctor, old ladies began to bring him
their pet pugs and poodles who had eaten too
much cake; and farmers came many miles to
show him sick cows and sheep.
One day a plow-horse was brought to him;
and the poor thing was terribly glad to find a
man who could talk in horse-language.
"You know, Doctor," said the horse, "that
vet over the hill knows nothing at all. He has
been treating me six weeks now--for spavins.
What I need is SPECTACLES. I am going blind
in one eye. There's no reason why horses
shouldn't wear glasses, the same as people. But
that stupid man over the hill never even looked
at my eyes. He kept on giving me big pills.
I tried to tell him; but he couldn't understand
a word of horse-language. What I need is
spectacles."
"Of course--of course," said the Doctor.
"I'll get you some at once."
"I would like a pair like yours," said the
horse--"only green. They'll keep the sun out
of my eyes while I'm plowing the Fifty-Acre
Field."
"Certainly," said the Doctor. "Green ones
you shall have."
"You know, the trouble is, Sir," said the
plow-horse as the Doctor opened the front door
to let him out--"the trouble is that ANYBODY
thinks he can doctor animals--just because the
animals don't complain. As a matter of fact
it takes a much cleverer man to be a really good
animal-doctor than it does to be a good people's
doctor. My farmer's boy thinks he knows all
about horses. I wish you could see him--his
face is so fat he looks as though he had no eyes
--and he has got as much brain as a potato-bug.
He tried to put a mustard-plaster on me last
week."
"Where did he put it?" asked the Doctor.
"Oh, he didn't put it anywhere--on me," said
the horse. "He only tried to. I kicked him
into the duck-pond."
"Well, well!" said the Doctor.
"I'm a pretty quiet creature as a rule," said
the horse--"very patient with people--don't
make much fuss. But it was bad enough to
have that vet giving me the wrong medicine.
And when that red-faced booby started to
miles off, to see a different doctor.
Then his sister, Sarah Dolittle, came to him
and said,
"John, how can you expect sick people to
come and see you when you keep all these animals
in the house? It's a fine doctor would have
his parlor full of hedgehogs and mice! That's
the fourth personage these animals have driven
away. Squire Jenkins and the Parson say they
wouldn't come near your house again--no matter
how sick they are. We are getting poorer
every day. If you go on like this, none of the
best people will have you for a doctor."
"But I like the animals better than the `best
people'," said the Doctor.
"You are ridiculous," said his sister, and
walked out of the room.
So, as time went on, the Doctor got more and
more animals; and the people who came to see
him got less and less. Till at last he had no one
left--except the Cat's-meat-Man, who didn't
mind any kind of animals. But the Cat's-meat
Man wasn't very rich and he only got sick once
a year--at Christmas-time, when he used to give
the Doctor sixpence for a bottle of medicine.
Sixpence a year wasn't enough to live on--
even in those days, long ago; and if the Doctor
hadn't had some money saved up in his money-
box, no one knows what would have happened.
And he kept on getting still more pets; and of
course it cost a lot to feed them. And the money
he had saved up grew littler and littler.
Then he sold his piano, and let the mice live
in a bureau-drawer. But the money he got for
that too began to go, so he sold the brown suit
he wore on Sundays and went on becoming
poorer and poorer.
And now, when he walked down the street
in his high hat, people would say to one another,
"There goes John Dolittle, M.D.! There was a
time when he was the best known doctor in the
West Country--Look at him now--He hasn't
any money and his stockings are full of holes!"
But the dogs and the cats and the children
still ran up and followed him through the town
--the same as they had done when he was rich.
THE SECOND CHAPTER
ANIMAL LANGUAGE
IT happened one day that the Doctor was sitting in his kitchen talking
with the Cat's-meat-Man who had come to see him with a stomach-ache.
"Why don't you give up being a people's doctor, and be an animal-doctor?"
asked the Cat's-meat-Man.
The parrot, Polynesia, was sitting in the window
looking out at the rain and singing a sailor-song to herself.
She stopped singing and started to listen.
"You see, Doctor," the Cat's-meat-Man went
on, "you know all about animals--much more
than what these here vets do. That book you
wrote--about cats, why, it's wonderful! I can't
read or write myself--or maybe _I_'D write some
books. But my wife, Theodosia, she's a scholar,
she is. And she read your book to me. Well,
it's wonderful--that's all can be said--wonderful.
You might have been a cat yourself. You
know the way they think. And listen: you can
make a lot of money doctoring animals. Do
you know that? You see, I'd send all the old
women who had sick cats or dogs to you. And
if they didn't get sick fast enough, I could put
something in the meat I sell 'em to make 'em
sick, see?"
"Oh, no," said the Doctor quickly. "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."
"My! You don't say so!" said the Doctor.
"You never talked that way to me before."
"What would have been the good?" said
Polynesia, dusting some cracker-crumbs off her
left wing. "You wouldn't have understood me
if I had."
"Tell me some more," said the Doctor, all
excited; and he rushed over to the dresser-drawer
and came back with the butcher's book and a
pencil. "Now don't go too fast--and I'll write
it down. This is interesting--very interesting
--something quite new. Give me the Birds'
A.B.C. first--slowly now."
So that was the way the Doctor came to know
that animals had a language of their own and
could talk to one another. And all that afternoon,
while it was raining, Polynesia sat on the
kitchen table giving him bird words to put down
in the book.
At tea-time, when the dog, Jip, came in, the
parrot said to the Doctor, "See, HE'S talking to
you."
"Looks to me as though he were scratching
his ear," said the Doctor.
"But animals don't always speak with their
mouths," said the parrot in a high voice, raising
her eyebrows. "They talk with their ears,
with their feet, with their tails--with everything.
Sometimes they don't WANT to make a
noise. Do you see now the way he's twitching
up one side of his nose?"
"What's that mean?" asked the Doctor.
"That means, `Can't you see that it has
stopped raining?'" Polynesia answered. "He
is asking you a question. Dogs nearly always
use their noses for asking questions."
After a while, with the parrot's help, the
Doctor got to learn the language of the animals
so well that he could talk to them himself and
understand everything they said. Then he gave
up being a people's doctor altogether.
As soon as the Cat's-meat-Man had told every
one that John Dolittle was going to become an
animal-doctor, old ladies began to bring him
their pet pugs and poodles who had eaten too
much cake; and farmers came many miles to
show him sick cows and sheep.
One day a plow-horse was brought to him;
and the poor thing was terribly glad to find a
man who could talk in horse-language.
"You know, Doctor," said the horse, "that
vet over the hill knows nothing at all. He has
been treating me six weeks now--for spavins.
What I need is SPECTACLES. I am going blind
in one eye. There's no reason why horses
shouldn't wear glasses, the same as people. But
that stupid man over the hill never even looked
at my eyes. He kept on giving me big pills.
I tried to tell him; but he couldn't understand
a word of horse-language. What I need is
spectacles."
"Of course--of course," said the Doctor.
"I'll get you some at once."
"I would like a pair like yours," said the
horse--"only green. They'll keep the sun out
of my eyes while I'm plowing the Fifty-Acre
Field."
"Certainly," said the Doctor. "Green ones
you shall have."
"You know, the trouble is, Sir," said the
plow-horse as the Doctor opened the front door
to let him out--"the trouble is that ANYBODY
thinks he can doctor animals--just because the
animals don't complain. As a matter of fact
it takes a much cleverer man to be a really good
animal-doctor than it does to be a good people's
doctor. My farmer's boy thinks he knows all
about horses. I wish you could see him--his
face is so fat he looks as though he had no eyes
--and he has got as much brain as a potato-bug.
He tried to put a mustard-plaster on me last
week."
"Where did he put it?" asked the Doctor.
"Oh, he didn't put it anywhere--on me," said
the horse. "He only tried to. I kicked him
into the duck-pond."
"Well, well!" said the Doctor.
"I'm a pretty quiet creature as a rule," said
the horse--"very patient with people--don't
make much fuss. But it was bad enough to
have that vet giving me the wrong medicine.
And when that red-faced booby started to
- parlor [´pɑ:lə]
n.客厅；起居室 (初中英语单词) - squire [skwaiə] n.护卫，侍从；乡绅 (初中英语单词)
- proudly [´praudli] ad.骄傲地；傲慢地 (初中英语单词)
- terribly [´terəbli] ad.可怕地 (初中英语单词)
- stupid [´stju:pid] a.愚蠢的；糊涂的 (初中英语单词)
- complain [kəm´plein] vi.抱怨，叫屈；控诉 (初中英语单词)
- parson [´pɑ:sən] n.教区牧师 (高中英语单词)
- personage [´pə:sənidʒ] n.名流；人物，角色 (英语四级单词)
- sixpence [´sikspəns] n.六便士(硬币) (英语四级单词)
- parrot [´pærət] n.鹦鹉；应声虫 (英语四级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
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