right out of the water altogether and had now
come to a dead stop on a long strip of gray sand.
Behind us we saw the surface of the sea rippled by the wind. On our left
was the mouth of a river with the tide running out. While in front, the
low flat land stretched away into the mist--which prevented one from
seeing very far in any direction. A pair of wild ducks with craning
necks and whirring wings passed over us and disappeared like shadows,
seaward.
As a landscape, it was a great change from the hot brilliant sunshine of
Popsipetel.
With the same whistling suction sound, the snail made the opening for us
to crawl out by. As we stepped down upon the marshy land we noticed that
a fine, drizzling autumn rain was falling.
"Can this be Merrie England?" asked Bumpo, peering into the
fog--"doesn't look like any place in particular. Maybe the snail hasn't
brought us right after all."
"Yes," sighed Polynesia, shaking the rain oft her feathers, "this is
England all right--You can tell it by the beastly climate."
"Oh, but fellows," cried Jip, as he sniffed up the air in great gulps,
"it has a SMELL--a good and glorious smell!--Excuse me a minute: I see a
water-rat."
"Sh!--Listen!" said Chee-Chee through teeth that chattered with the
cold. "There's Puddleby church-clock striking four. Why don't we divide
up the baggage and get moving. We've got a long way to foot it home
across the marshes."
"Let's hope," I put in, "that Dab-Dab has a nice fire burning in the
kitchen."
"I'm sure she will," said the Doctor as he picked out his old handbag
from among the bundles--"With this wind from the East she'll need it to
keep the animals in the house warm. Come on. Let's hug the river-bank
so we don't miss our way in the fog. You know, there's something rather
attractive in the bad weather of England--when you've got a kitchen-fire
to look forward to.... Four o'clock! Come along--we'll just be in nice
time for tea."
End of Project Gutenberg's The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle, by Hugh Lofting
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