Animals -- Juvenile fiction; Fantasy literature; Human-animal communication -- Juvenile fiction; Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction
“Yes—good old Chee-Chee!” echoed Dab-Dab and Polynesia.
Then we all tip-toed out of the scullery and closed the door very
gently behind us.
_THE FIFTEENTH CHAPTER_
I BECOME A DOCTOR’S ASSISTANT
WHEN Thursday evening came there was great excitement at our house.
My mother had asked me what were the Doctor’s favorite dishes, and I
had told her: spare ribs, sliced beet-root, fried bread, shrimps and
treacle-tart. To-night she had them all on the table waiting for him;
and she was now fussing round the house to see if everything was tidy
and in readiness for his coming.
At last we heard a knock upon the door, and of course it was I who got
there first to let him in.
The Doctor had brought his own flute with him this time. And after
supper was over (which he enjoyed very much) the table was cleared away
and the washing-up left in the kitchen-sink till the next day. Then the
Doctor and my father started playing duets.
They got so interested in this that I began to be afraid that they
would never come to talking over my business. But at last the Doctor
said,
“Your son tells me that he is anxious to become a naturalist.”
And then began a long talk which lasted far into the night. At first
both my mother and father were rather against the idea—as they had been
from the beginning. They said it was only a boyish whim, and that I
would get tired of it very soon. But after the matter had been talked
over from every side, the Doctor turned to my father and said,
“Well now, supposing, Mr. Stubbins, that your son came to me for two
years—that is, until he is twelve years old. During those two years he
will have time to see if he is going to grow tired of it or not. Also
during that time, I will promise to teach him reading and writing and
perhaps a little arithmetic as well. What do you say to that?”
“I don’t know,” said my father, shaking his head. “You are very kind
and it is a handsome offer you make, Doctor. But I feel that Tommy
ought to be learning some trade by which he can earn his living later
on.”
Then my mother spoke up. Although she was nearly in tears at the
prospect of my leaving her house while I was still so young, she
pointed out to my father that this was a grand chance for me to get
learning.
“Now Jacob,” she said, “you know that many lads in the town have been
to the Grammar School till they were fourteen or fifteen years old.
Tommy can easily spare these two years for his education; and if he
learns no more than to read and write, the time will not be lost.
Though goodness knows,” she added, getting out her handkerchief to cry,
“the house will seem terribly empty when he’s gone.”
“I will take care that he comes to see you, Mrs. Stubbins,” said the
Doctor—“every day, if you like. After all, he will not be very far
away.”
Well, at length my father gave in; and it was agreed that I was to live
with the Doctor and work for him for two years in exchange for learning
to read and write and for my board and lodging.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account