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Authors: Hugh Lofting
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although
he is very quick and clever, he is not as strong as a man. We really
ought to have another person to sail a boat as big as that."
"I know of a good sailor, Doctor," said Joe—"a first-class seaman who
would be glad of the job."
"No, thank you, Joe," said Doctor Dolittle. "I don't want any seamen.
I couldn't afford to hire them. And then they hamper me so, seamen do,
when I'm at sea. They're always wanting to do things the proper way; and
I like to do them my way—Now let me see: who could we take with us?"
"There's Matthew Mugg, the cat's-meat-man," I said.
"No, he wouldn't do. Matthew's a very nice fellow, but he talks too
much—mostly about his rheumatism. You have to be frightfully particular
whom you take with you on long voyages."
"How about Luke the Hermit?" I asked.
"That's a good idea—splendid—if he'll come. Let's go and ask him right
away."
The Second Chapter. Luke the Hermit
*
THE Hermit was an old friend of ours, as I have already told you. He was
a very peculiar person. Far out on the marshes he lived in a little bit
of a shack—all alone except for his brindle bulldog. No one knew where
he came from—not even his name, just "Luke the Hermit" folks called
him. He never came into the town; never seemed to want to see or talk
to people. His dog, Bob, drove them away if they came near his hut.
When you asked anyone in Puddleby who he was or why he lived out in
that lonely place by himself, the only answer you got was, "Oh, Luke the
Hermit? Well, there's some mystery about him. Nobody knows what it is.
But there's a mystery. Don't go near him. He'll set the dog on you."
Nevertheless there were two people who often went out to that little
shack on the fens: the Doctor and myself. And Bob, the bulldog, never
barked when he heard us coming. For we liked Luke; and Luke liked us.
This afternoon, crossing the marshes we faced a cold wind blowing from
the East. As we approached the hut Jip put up his ears and said,
"That's funny!"
"What's funny?" asked the Doctor.
"That Bob hasn't come out to meet us. He should have heard us long
ago—or smelt us. What's that queer noise?"
"Sounds to me like a gate creaking," said the Doctor. "Maybe it's Luke's
door, only we can't see the door from here; it's on the far side of the
shack."
"I hope Bob isn't sick," said Jip; and he let out a bark to see if that
would call him. But the only answer he got was the wailing of the wind
across the wide, salt fen.
We hurried forward, all three of us thinking hard.
When we reached the front of the shack we found the door open, swinging
and creaking dismally in the wind. We looked inside. There was no one
there.
"Isn't Luke at home then?" said I. "Perhaps he's out for a walk."
"He is ALWAYS at home," said the Doctor frowning in a peculiar sort of
way. "And even if he were out for a. walk he wouldn't leave his
door banging in the wind behind him. There is something queer about
this—What are you doing in there, Jip?"
"Nothing much—nothing worth speaking of," said Jip examining the floor
of the hut extremely carefully.
"Come here, Jip," said the Doctor in a stern voice. "You are hiding
something from me. You see signs and you know something—or you guess
it. What has happened? Tell me. Where is the Hermit?"
"I don't know," said Jip looking very guilty and uncomfortable. "I don't
know where he is."
"Well, you know something. I can tell it from the look in your eye. What
is it?"
But Jip didn't answer.
For ten minutes the Doctor kept questioning him. But not a word would
the dog say.
"Well," said the Doctor at last, "it is no use our standing around here
in the cold. The Hermit's gone. That's all. We might as well go home to
luncheon."
As we buttoned up our coats and started back across the marsh, Jip ran
ahead pretending he was looking for water-rats.
"He knows something all right," whispered the Doctor. "And I think he
knows what has happened too. It's funny, his not wanting to tell me. He
has never done
he is very quick and clever, he is not as strong as a man. We really
ought to have another person to sail a boat as big as that."
"I know of a good sailor, Doctor," said Joe—"a first-class seaman who
would be glad of the job."
"No, thank you, Joe," said Doctor Dolittle. "I don't want any seamen.
I couldn't afford to hire them. And then they hamper me so, seamen do,
when I'm at sea. They're always wanting to do things the proper way; and
I like to do them my way—Now let me see: who could we take with us?"
"There's Matthew Mugg, the cat's-meat-man," I said.
"No, he wouldn't do. Matthew's a very nice fellow, but he talks too
much—mostly about his rheumatism. You have to be frightfully particular
whom you take with you on long voyages."
"How about Luke the Hermit?" I asked.
"That's a good idea—splendid—if he'll come. Let's go and ask him right
away."
The Second Chapter. Luke the Hermit
*
THE Hermit was an old friend of ours, as I have already told you. He was
a very peculiar person. Far out on the marshes he lived in a little bit
of a shack—all alone except for his brindle bulldog. No one knew where
he came from—not even his name, just "Luke the Hermit" folks called
him. He never came into the town; never seemed to want to see or talk
to people. His dog, Bob, drove them away if they came near his hut.
When you asked anyone in Puddleby who he was or why he lived out in
that lonely place by himself, the only answer you got was, "Oh, Luke the
Hermit? Well, there's some mystery about him. Nobody knows what it is.
But there's a mystery. Don't go near him. He'll set the dog on you."
Nevertheless there were two people who often went out to that little
shack on the fens: the Doctor and myself. And Bob, the bulldog, never
barked when he heard us coming. For we liked Luke; and Luke liked us.
This afternoon, crossing the marshes we faced a cold wind blowing from
the East. As we approached the hut Jip put up his ears and said,
"That's funny!"
"What's funny?" asked the Doctor.
"That Bob hasn't come out to meet us. He should have heard us long
ago—or smelt us. What's that queer noise?"
"Sounds to me like a gate creaking," said the Doctor. "Maybe it's Luke's
door, only we can't see the door from here; it's on the far side of the
shack."
"I hope Bob isn't sick," said Jip; and he let out a bark to see if that
would call him. But the only answer he got was the wailing of the wind
across the wide, salt fen.
We hurried forward, all three of us thinking hard.
When we reached the front of the shack we found the door open, swinging
and creaking dismally in the wind. We looked inside. There was no one
there.
"Isn't Luke at home then?" said I. "Perhaps he's out for a walk."
"He is ALWAYS at home," said the Doctor frowning in a peculiar sort of
way. "And even if he were out for a. walk he wouldn't leave his
door banging in the wind behind him. There is something queer about
this—What are you doing in there, Jip?"
"Nothing much—nothing worth speaking of," said Jip examining the floor
of the hut extremely carefully.
"Come here, Jip," said the Doctor in a stern voice. "You are hiding
something from me. You see signs and you know something—or you guess
it. What has happened? Tell me. Where is the Hermit?"
"I don't know," said Jip looking very guilty and uncomfortable. "I don't
know where he is."
"Well, you know something. I can tell it from the look in your eye. What
is it?"
But Jip didn't answer.
For ten minutes the Doctor kept questioning him. But not a word would
the dog say.
"Well," said the Doctor at last, "it is no use our standing around here
in the cold. The Hermit's gone. That's all. We might as well go home to
luncheon."
As we buttoned up our coats and started back across the marsh, Jip ran
ahead pretending he was looking for water-rats.
"He knows something all right," whispered the Doctor. "And I think he
knows what has happened too. It's funny, his not wanting to tell me. He
has never done
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