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Part One | Hugh Lofting | |
III The Doctor's Home |
Page 2 of 4 |
He stopped, grunted and glared down at me--his red face growing redder still; and when he spoke it sounded like the cork coming out of a gingerbeer-bottle. "Do you imagine for one moment," he spluttered, "that I am going to get myself all unbuttoned just to tell a little boy like you THE TIME!" And he went stumping down the street, grunting harder than ever. I stood still a moment looking after him and wondering how old I would have to be, to have him go to the trouble of getting his watch out. And then, all of a sudden, the rain came down in torrents. I have never seen it rain so hard. It got dark, almost like night. The wind began to blow; the thunder rolled; the lightning flashed, and in a moment the gutters of the road were flowing like a river. There was no place handy to take shelter, so I put my head down against the driving wind and started to run towards home. I hadn't gone very far when my head bumped into something soft and I sat down suddenly on the pavement. I looked up to see whom I had run into. And there in front of me, sitting on the wet pavement like myself, was a little round man with a very kind face. He wore a shabby high hat and in his hand he had a small black bag. "I'm very sorry," I said. "I had my head down and I didn't see you coming." To my great surprise, instead of getting angry at being knocked down, the little man began to laugh. |
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The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle Hugh Lofting |
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