11
The Top-knot Terriers
Professor Quetch was given quite as much applause as any story–teller who had gone before him. When it had subsided Jip, as President of the Club, got up to thank him formally on behalf of the audience.
This over, Jip went on to say that since no story had yet been slated to follow Quetch's, he would like to know if any members had suggestions to make about filling out the remainder of the evening's entertainment.
Then one dog got up (he was a cross between a St. Bernard and a mastiff) and said that he thought a story about the Doctor would be a good idea. These stories that they had heard were very good of their kind, but he felt that the members would like to hear one about John Dolittle himself.
Jip agreed that this was a good idea. Then he started to count off the dogs, besides himself, who had lived a considerable time with the Doctor. There was Swizzle the clown dog; Toby the Punch–and–Judy dog; Kling the detective dog; Blackie the retriever and Grab the bulldog. Each of these in turn was asked if he could think of any incident in his life with the Doctor which would make a good story.
But none of them seemed to be able to remember on the spur of the moment anything that could be considered complete enough. Then the Sea Dog (who had already told us a thrilling yarn out of his own adventures on the deep) got up and said:
"I think that Jip himself, who has after all known John Dolittle longer than any of us, ought to tell us a story about the Doctor."
At this there were many "Hear, hears!" from the members. And Jip felt that he had to get up and make some reply.
"All right," said he, "in that case I think I'll tell you the story of how John Dolittle invented the Top–knot Terrier. You know then of course that the Doctor has never cared very much whether a dog was what is known as a thoroughbred. Whether a dog had a nice personality, or was intelligent, was far more important to him. Well, some years ago there was a certain rich and high–born lady, known as the Dowager Countess of Battlebridge, who realized that the Doctor was a great man. This was curious; because people as a class usually think him something of a crank. That, as many of you know, has always had the effect of making him keep very much to himself and the animal world. But the Dowager Countess of Battlebridge was an exception—an exceptional woman all round, in fact. She was extremely interested in, and fond of, animals and she had a great admiration for the Doctor's knowledge of animal medicine. She did not, any more than the rest of the world, believe that he could talk animal languages. But she saw that he certainly had a great gift for communicating ideas to them and getting them to understand what he wanted. She had a whole lot of dogs of her own and was a great authority on breeds, attending all the shows, where she was very often one of the judges.
"Whenever any of her animals were sick she always got the Doctor to attend to them, maintaining that he was the only veterinary surgeon in the country worthy of the title. Among her dogs she had one very jolly little poodle called Juanita—frightfully thoroughbred, prize–winner and all that.
"One day Juanita was missing. The Dowager Countess was in despair. She put advertisements in all the papers, hired detectives to hunt for the dog, and everything. All to no purpose. Juanita the prize poodle had disappeared as completely as though the earth had opened and swallowed her up.
"The Dowager Countess was in despair"
"One evening when I and the Doctor were in the study we heard a tapping at the window. I knew that tap. I had heard it before. It was Cheapside the Cockney sparrow knocking on the glass with his bill.
"It was Cheapside knocking on the glass with his bill"
"'Well, Doctor,' says he as soon as he was let in, 'where do you think Juanita the prize poodle is hiding? In your stable.'
"'In my stable!' cried the Doctor. 'What a place to choose when she had the most luxurious home in the country to live in!'
"'Yes, but listen, Doctor,' says Cheapside, coming closer and lowering his voice. 'That isn't all. She's got puppies—five of 'em, the queerest little things you ever saw. They've got top–knots on their heads like Fiji Islanders. Look like a cross between a weasel and a pin–cushion. I reckon she's ashamed of 'em, is Juanita—being they're so queer–looking—and that's why she has kept in hiding.'
"'Oh, well,' said the Doctor, 'let's go down and take a look at them right away.'
"Thereupon we all proceeded to the stable with a lantern. And under an old manger, among some straw and autumn leaves, we found Juanita and her family. I am bound to say that Cheapside's description had not been in the least exaggerated. They were queer. At first I could scarcely believe they were dogs at all. It was only by the smell of them that I was sure.
"'My goodness, Juanita,' said the Doctor, 'why didn't you let me know you were here all the time?'
"'Well,' said she, 'for one thing I didn't want to put you in an embarrassing position with regard to the Countess. And for another I—er—I—er–'
"She looked at the queer puppies and paused. She seemed dreadfully awkward and ill at ease.
"'They're hardly thoroughbred, you see, Doctor,' she said at last. 'I didn't know what my mistress would say or do about them. Frankly, I was scared. The Countess, as you know, only has dogs of the highest pedigree in her kennels.'
"'Well,' said the Doctor,'I think they are a very jolly–looking lot. These top–knots are quite unique—and very smart in my opinion. Are they intelligent?'
"'Oh, yes, indeed,' said Juanita brightening up and showing no end of motherly pride. 'They're the cleverest lot of puppies I ever had.'
"That, as you can imagine, got the Doctor more interested than anything she could have said. And finally he became tremendously keen on these queer puppies—so keen that he took them across from the stable to his house, where they made themselves a great nuisance to Dab–Dab the housekeeper. They ran all over the place and you stumbled on them everywhere you went.
"Nevertheless there was no denying that they were, as the Doctor had said, distinctly unusual. Clever wasn't the word for them: they were positively uncanny. I have never seen anything like it. Usually it takes a dog years to learn anything about human speech and what it means—if indeed he ever does. But these little beggars seemed to catch on to all that was happening or being said in any language right away. Dab–Dab continued to storm and insisted that they be put back in the stable; but the Doctor said—
"'No, Dab–Dab. These pups are an extraordinary case of animal intelligence. They must stay. I want to study them. Why, they have real brains, Dab–Dab—real brains!'
"'Why, they have real brains, Dab–Dab!'"
"'They're mongrels,' she snapped—'homely mongrels at that.'
"'I don't care,' said the Doctor. 'They represent a distinct advance in animal intelligence.'
"Juanita, who had up to this been scared and ashamed about how they would be received, now began to put on no end of airs as the mother of the most intelligent puppies on record. The Doctor gave them all sorts of tests to demonstrate how clever they were. I do believe that he had hopes of some day getting them to take up mathematics and science—if not to run for Parliament. He was quite excited and worked up over it.
"Not a great while after Juanita's presence in the stable had been announced by Cheapside the Doctor felt that he ought to notify the Dowager Countess of Battlebridge; for she was still very disturbed over her prize poodle's disappearance. The good lady was overjoyed at the news and immediately asked that Juanita be restored to her home. But the poor puppies, since they were not thoroughbred, she was not in the least interested in. Then the Doctor took two whole hours trying to explain to her that she was wrong.