_The Fidgit:_ “Alas! no. I would willingly if I could; but he is hardly ever seen by ordinary fish. He lives at the bottom of the Deep Hole, and seldom comes out—And into the Deep Hole, the lower waters of which are muddy, fishes such as we are afraid to go.” _The Doctor:_ “Dear me! That’s a terrible disappointment. Are there many of this kind of snail in the sea?” _The Fidgit:_ “Oh no. He is the only one in existence, since his second wife died long, long ago. He is the last of the Giant Shellfish. He belongs to past ages when the whales were land-animals and all that. They say he is over seventy thousand years old.” _The Doctor:_ “Good Gracious, what wonderful things he could tell me! I do wish I could meet him.” _The Fidgit:_ “Were there any more questions you wished to ask me? This water in your tank is getting quite warm and sickly. I’d like to be put back into the sea as soon as you can spare me.” _The Doctor:_ “Just one more thing: when Christopher Columbus crossed the Atlantic in 1492, he threw overboard two copies of his diary sealed up in barrels. One of them was never found. It must have sunk. I would like to get it for my library. Do you happen to know where it is?” _The Fidgit:_ “Yes, I do. That too is in the Deep Hole. When the barrel sank the currents drifted it northwards down what we call the Orinoco Slope, till it finally disappeared into the Deep Hole. If it was any other part of the sea I’d try and get it for you; but not there.” _The Doctor:_ “Well, that is all, I think. I hate to put you back into the sea, because I know that as soon as I do, I’ll think of a hundred other questions I wanted to ask you. But I must keep my promise. Would you care for anything before you go?—it seems a cold day—some cracker-crumbs or something?” _The Fidgit:_ “No, I won’t stop. All I want just at present is fresh sea-water.” _The Doctor:_ “I cannot thank you enough for all the information you have given me. You have been very helpful and patient.” _The Fidgit:_ “Pray do not mention it. It has been a real pleasure to be of assistance to the great John Dolittle. You are, as of course you know, already quite famous among the better class of fishes. Goodbye!—and good luck to you, to your ship and to all your plans!” The Doctor carried the listening-tank to a port-hole, opened it and emptied the tank into the sea. “Good-bye!” he murmured as a faint splash reached us from without.