MARCH winds had come and gone; April’s showers were over; May’s buds had opened into flower; and the June sun was shining on the pleasant fields, when John Dolittle at last got back to his own country.

But he did not yet go home to Puddleby. First he went traveling through the land with the pushmi-pullyu in a gipsy-wagon¹, stopping at all the country-fairs. And there, with the acrobats² on one side of them and the Punch-and-Judy show on the other, they would hang out a big sign which read, “Come and See the Marvelous Two-Headed Animal from the Jungles of Africa. Admission Sixpence.”

And the pushmi-pullyu would stay inside the wagon, while the other animals would lie about underneath³. The Doctor sat in a chair in front taking the sixpences and smiling on the people as they went in; and Dab-Dab was kept busy all the time scolding him because he would let the children in for nothing when she wasn’t looking.

And menagerie-keepers and circus-men came and asked the Doctor to sell them the strange creature, saying they would pay a tremendous lot of money for him. But the Doctor always shook his head and said,

“No. The pushmi-pullyu shall never be shut up in a cage. He shall be free always to come and go, like you and me.”

Many curious sights and happenings they saw in this wandering life; but they all seemed quite ordinary after the great things they had seen and done in foreign lands. It was very interesting at first, being sort of part of a circus; but after a few weeks they all got dreadfully tired of it and the Doctor and all of them were longing⁴ to go home.

But so many people came flocking to the little wagon and paid the sixpence to go inside and see the pushmi-pullyu that very soon the Doctor was able to give up being a showman.

And one fine day, when the hollyhocks were in full bloom, he came back to Puddleby a rich man, to live in the little house with the big garden.

And the old lame⁵ horse in the stable was glad to see him; and so were the swallows who had already built their nests under the eaves of his roof and had young ones. And Dab-Dab was glad, too, to get back to the house she knew so well—although there was a terrible lot of dusting to be done, with cobwebs everywhere.

And after Jip had gone and shown his golden collar to the conceited⁶ collie next-door, he came back and began running round the garden like a crazy thing, looking for the bones he had buried long ago, and chasing the rats out of the tool-shed; while Gub-Gub dug up the horseradish which had grown three feet high in the corner by the garden-wall.

And the Doctor went and saw the sailor who had lent him the boat, and he bought two new ships for him and a rubber-doll for his baby; and he paid the grocer for the food he had lent him for the journey to Africa. And he bought another piano and put the white mice back in it—because they said the bureau-drawer was drafty.

Even when the Doctor had filled the old money-box on the dresser-shelf, he still had a lot of money left; and he had to get three more money-boxes, just as big, to put the rest in.

“Money,” he said, “is a terrible nuisance. But it’s nice not to have to worry.”

“Yes,” said Dab-Dab, who was toasting muffins for his tea, “it is indeed!”

And when the Winter came again, and the snow flew against the kitchen-window, the Doctor and his animals would sit round the big, warm fire after supper; and he would read aloud to them out of his books.

But far away in Africa, where the monkeys chattered⁷ in the palm-trees before they went to bed under the big yellow moon, they would say to one another,

“I wonder what The Good Man’s doing now—over there, in the Land of the White Men! Do you think he ever will come back?”

And Polynesia would squeak⁸ out from the vines,

“I think he will—I guess he will—I hope he will!”

And then the crocodile would grunt⁹ up at them from the black mud of the river,

“I’m SURE he will—Go to sleep!”