"But I don't want any money," said the Doctor.
"Yes, you do," said Dab-Dab, the duck.
"Don't you remember how we had to pinch
and scrape to pay the butcher's bill in
Puddleby? And how are you going to get the
sailor the new boat you spoke of--unless we
have the money to buy it?"
"I was going to make him one," said the Doctor.
"Oh, do be sensible!" cried Dab-Dab.
"Where would you get all the wood and the
nails to make one with?--And besides, what are
we going to live on? We shall be poorer than
ever when we get back. Chee-Chee's perfectly
right: take the funny-looking thing along, do!"
"Well, perhaps there is something in what you say,"
murmured the Doctor. "It certainly would make
a nice new kind of pet. But does the er--
what-do-you-call-it really want to go abroad?"
"Yes, I'll go," said the pushmi-pullyu who
saw at once, from the Doctor's face, that he was
a man to be trusted. "You have been so kind
to the animals here--and the monkeys tell me
that I am the only one who will do. But you
must promise me that if I do not like it in the
Land of the White Men you will send me
back."
"Why, certainly--of course, of course," said
the Doctor. "Excuse me, surely you are
related to the Deer Family, are you not?"
"Yes," said the pushmi-pullyu--"to the
Abyssinian Gazelles and the Asiatic Chamois
--on my mother's side. My father's great-grandfather
was the last of the Unicorns."
"Most interesting!" murmured the Doctor;
and he took a book out of the trunk which Dab-Dab
was packing and began turning the pages.
"Let us see if Buffon says anything--"
"I notice," said the duck, "that you only talk
with one of your mouths. Can't the other head
talk as well?"
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