Waiting on the front steps

      At last Jip, who had been out scouting, came rushing back to the party gathered in the garden.

      “The wagon’s coming,” he panted – “all red and yellow – it’s just around the bend.”

      Then everybody got excited and began grabbing their parcels. Gub-Gub’s luggage was a bundle of turnips; and just as he was hurrying down the steps to the road the string broke and the round, white vegetables went rolling all over the place.

      The wagon, when it finally came in sight, was certainly a thing of beauty. It was made like a gypsy caravan, with windows and door and chimney. It was very gayly painted and quite new.

      Not so the horse; he was quite old. The Doctor said that never had he seen an animal so worn out and weary. He got into conversation with him and found out that he had been working in the circus for thirty-five years. He was very sick of it he said. His name was Beppo. The Doctor decided he would tell Blossom that it was high time Beppo should be pensioned off and allowed to live in peace.

      In spite of the newness of the van, Dab-Dab swept it out before she put the packages in it. She had the Doctor’s bedding tied up in a sheet, like a bundle of clothes for the laundry. And she was most careful that this should not get dirty.

      When the animals and the baggage were all in, the Doctor got terribly afraid that the load would be too much for the old horse to pull. And he wanted to push behind, to help. But Beppo said he could manage it all right. However, the Doctor would not add to the weight by getting in himself. And when the door was shut and the window curtains drawn, so no one should see the pushmi-pullyu on the way, they set out for Grimbledon, with the man who had brought the wagon driving and the Doctor and the Cat’s-Meat-Man walking behind.

      On the way through Puddleby Market-place, the driver stopped to get something at a shop. And while the caravan waited outside a crowd gathered about the wagon, wanting to know where it was going and what was inside. Matthew Mugg, his chest now swelling with pride, was dying to tell them, but the Doctor wouldn’t let him make any speeches.

      They reached the Grimbledon Fair-grounds about two o’clock in the afternoon and entered the circus enclosure by a back gate. Inside they found the great Blossom himself, waiting to welcome them.

      He seemed quite surprised, on the van’s being opened, to find the odd collection of creatures the Doctor had brought with him – he was particularly astonished at the pig. However, he was so delighted to have the pushmi-pullyu that he didn’t mind.

      He at once led them to what he called their stand – which, he said, he had had built for them that very morning. This the Doctor found to be similar to the place where he had first spoken with Blossom. It was a platform raised three feet from the ground, so that the board-and-canvas room on the top of it could be seen. It had steps up to it, and a little way back from the front edge of the platform curtains covered the entrance to the room, so no one could see inside unless they paid to go in.

      Across the front of it was a sign:

      THE PUSHMI-PULLYU!

       COME AND SEE THE MARVELOUS

       TWO-HEADED ANIMAL

       FROM THE JUNGLES OF AFRICA!

       ADMISSION SIXPENCE

      The red and yellow wagon (in which the Doctor’s party, with the exception of the pushmi-pullyu, were to live) was backed behind the “stand”. And Dab-Dab immediately set about making up beds and arranging the inside so it would be homelike.

      Blossom wanted to have the pushmi-pullyu put on show at once, but the Doctor refused. He said any wild animal would need to rest after the journey from Puddleby. And he wished the timid beast to get used to the noisy bustle of circus life before he was stared at by a crowd of holiday-makers.

      Blossom was disappointed, but he had to give in. Then, to the animals’ delight, he offered to show the Doctor around the circus and introduce him to the various performers. So after the pushmi-pullyu had been moved to his new home in the stand and the Doctor had seen that he was provided with hay and water and bedding, the Puddleby party started out to make a tour of the circus under the guidance of the great Alexander Blossom, ringmaster.

      The main show took place only twice a day (at two in the afternoon and at six thirty at night), in a big tent in the middle of the enclosure. But all around this there were smaller tents and stands, most of which you had to pay extra to get into. Of these the Doctor’s establishment was now to form one. They contained all manner of wonders: shooting galleries; guessing games; wild men of Borneo; bearded ladies; merry-go-rounds; strong men, snake charmers; a menagerie, and many more.

      Blossom took the Doctor and his friends to the menagerie first. It was a dingy third-rate sort of collection. Most of the animals seemed dirty and unhappy. The Doctor was so saddened he was all for having a row with Blossom over it. But the Cat’s-Meat-Man whispered in his ear:

      “Don’t be starting trouble right away, Doctor. Wait a while. After the boss sees how valuable you are with performing animals you’ll be able to do what you like with him. If you kick up a shindy now we’ll maybe lose our job. Then you won’t be able to do anything.”

      This struck John Dolittle as good advice. And he contented himself for the present with whispering to the animals through the bars of their cages that later he hoped to do something for them.

      Just as they had entered a dirty man was taking around a group of country folk to show them the collection. Stopping before a cage where a small furry animal was imprisoned, the man called out:

      “And this, ladies and gents, is the famous Hurri-Gurri, from the forests of Patagonia. ’E ’angs from the trees by ’is tail. Pass on to the next cage.”

      The Doctor, followed by Gub-Gub, went over and looked in at “the famous Hurri-Gurri.”