chapter ii
cheapside
it was a great day at the doctor's post office when cheapside, the london sparrow, arrived from puddleby to look after the city deliveries for fantippo.
the doctor was eating his lunch of sandwiches at the information desk when the little bird popped his head through the window and said in his cheeky cockney voice:
"'ulloa, doctor, 'ere we are again! what ho! the old firm! who would 'ave thought you'd come to this?"
cheapside was a character. anyone on seeing him for the first time would probably guess that he spent his life in city streets. his whole expression was different from other birds. in speedy's eyes, for instance—though nobody would dream of thinking him stupid—there was an almost noble look of country honesty. but in the eyes of cheapside, the london sparrow, there was a saucy, dare-devil expression that seemed to say "don't you think for one moment that you'll ever get the better of me. i'm a cockney bird."
"why, cheapside!" cried john dolittle. "at last you've come. my, but it's good to see you! did you have a pleasant journey?"
"not bad—not 'alf bad," said cheapside, eyeing some crumbs from the doctor's lunch which lay upon the desk. "no storms. pretty decent travellin'. 'ot? well, i should say it was 'ot. 'ot enough for an 'ottentot!... quaint place you 'ave 'ere—sort of a barge?"
by this time all the animals had heard cheapside arriving and they came rushing in to see the traveler and to hear the news of puddleby and england.
"how is the old horse in the stable?" asked john dolittle.
"pretty spry," said cheapside. "course 'e ain't as young as 'e used to be. but 'e's lively enough for an old 'un. 'e asked me to bring you a bunch of crimson ramblers—just bloomin' over the stable door, they was. but i says to 'im, i says, 'what d'yer take me for, an omnibus?' fancy a feller at my time of life carrying a bunch of roses all the way down the atlantic! folks would think i was goin' to a weddin' at the south pole."
"gracious, cheapside!" said the doctor, laughing. "it makes me quite homesick for england to hear your cockney chirp."
"and me, too," sighed jip. "were there many rats in the woodshed, cheapside?"
"'undreds of them," said the sparrow—"as big as rabbits. and that uppish you'd think they owned the place!"
"i'll soon settle them, when i get back," said jip. "i hope we go soon."
"how does the garden look, cheapside?" asked the doctor.
"a1," said the sparrow. "weeds in the paths, o' course. but the iris under the kitchen window looked something lovely, they did."
"anything new in london?" asked the white mouse who was also city bred.
"yes," said cheapside. "there's always something doing in good old london. they've got a new kind of cab that goes on two wheels instead of four. a man called 'ansom invented it. much faster than the old 'ackneys they are. you see 'em everywhere. and there's a new greengrocer's shop near the royal exchange."
"i'm going to have a greengrocer's shop of my own when i grow up," murmured gub-gub, "—in england where they grow good vegetables—i'm awfully tired of africa—and then i'll watch the new vegetables coming into season all the year round."
"he's always talking about that," said too-too. "such an ambition in life to have—to run a greengrocer's shop!"
"ah, england!" cried gub-gub sentimentally. "what is there more beautiful in life than the heart of a young lettuce in the spring?"
"'ark at 'im," said cheapside, raising his eyebrows. "ain't 'e the poetical porker? why don't you write a bunch of sonnets to the skunk-kissed-cabbages of louisiana, mr. bacon?"
"well, now, look here, cheapside," said the doctor. "we want you to get these city deliveries straightened out for us in the town of fantippo. our post birds are having great difficulty finding the right houses to take letters to. you're a city-bird, born and bred. do you think you can help us?"
"i'll see what i can do for you, doc," said the sparrow, "after i've taken a look around this 'eathen town of yours. but first i want a bath. i'm all heat up from flying under a broiling sun. ain't you got no puddles round here for a bird to take a bath in?"
"no, this isn't puddly climate," said the doctor. "you're not in england, you know. but i'll bring you my shaving mug and you can take a bath in that."
"mind, you wash the soap out first, doc," chirped the sparrow, "it gets into my eyes."
the next day after cheapside had had a good sleep to rest up from his long journey the doctor took the london sparrow to show him around the town of fantippo.
"well, doc," said cheapside after they had seen the sights, "as a town i don't think much of it—really, i don't. it's big. i'll say that for it. i 'ad no idea they 'ad towns as big as this in africa. but the streets is so narrow! i can see why they don't 'ave no cabs 'ere—'ardly room for a goat to pass, let alone a four-wheeler. and as for the 'ouses, they seem to be made of the insides of old mattresses. the first thing we'll 'ave to do is to make old king cocoanut tell 'is subjects to put door knockers on their doors. what is 'ome without a door knocker, i'd like to know? of course, your postmen can't deliver the letters, when they've no knockers to knock with."
"i'll attend to that," said the doctor. "i'll see the king about it this afternoon."
"and then, they've got no letter boxes in the doors," said cheapside. "there ought to be slots made to poke the letters in. the only place these bloomin' 'eathens have for a postman to put a letter is down the chimney."
"very well," said the doctor. "i'll attend to that, too. shall i have the letter boxes in the middle of the door, or would you like them on one side?"
"put 'em on each side of the doors—two to every 'ouse," said cheapside.
"what's that for?" asked the doctor.
"that's a little idea of my own," said the sparrow. "we'll 'ave one box for the bills and one for sure-enough letters. you see, people are so disappointed when they 'ear the postman's knock and come to the door, expecting to find a nice letter from a friend or news that money's been left them and all they get is a bill from the tailor. but if we have two boxes on each door, one marked 'bills,' and the other 'letters,' the postman can put all the bills in one box and the honest letters in the other. as i said, it's a little idea of my own. we might as well be real up-to-date. what do you think of it?"
"i think it's a splendid notion," said the doctor. "then the people need only have one disappointment—when they clear the bill box on the day set for paying their debts."
"that's the idea," said cheapside. "and tell the post-birds—as soon as we've got the knockers on—to knock once for a bill and twice for a letter, so the folks in the 'ouse will know whether to come and get the mail or not. oh, i tell you, we'll show these poor pagans a thing or two before we're finished! we'll 'ave a post office in fantipsy that really is a post office. and, now, 'ow about the christmas boxes, doctor? postmen always expect a handsome present around christmas time, you know."
"well, i'm rather afraid," said the doctor doubtfully, "that these people don't celebrate christmas as a holiday."
"don't celebrate christmas!" cried cheapside in a shocked voice. "what a disgraceful scandal! well, look here, doctor. you just tell king cocoa-butter that if 'e and 'is people don't celebrate the festive season by giving us post-birds christmas-boxes there ain't going to be no mail delivered in fantipsy from new year's to easter. and you can tell 'im i said so. it's 'igh time somebody hen-lightened 'is hignorance."
"all right," said the doctor, "i'll attend to that, too."
"tell 'im," said cheapside, "we'll expect two lumps of sugar on every doorstep christmas morning for the post-birds. no sugar, no letters!"
that afternoon the doctor called upon the king and explained to him the various things that cheapside wanted. and his majesty gave in to them, every one. beautiful brass knockers were screwed on all the doors—light ones, which the birds could easily lift. and very elegant they looked—by far the most up-to-date part of the ramshackle dwellings. the double boxes were also put up, with one place for bills and one for the letters.
john dolittle instructed king koko as well in the meaning of christmas time, which should be a season for giving gifts. and among the fantippo people the custom of making presents at christmas became very general—not only to postmen, but to friends and relatives, too.
that is why when, several years after the doctor had left this country, some missionaries visited that part of africa, they found to their astonishment that christmas was celebrated there, although the people were heathens. but they never learned that the custom had been brought about by cheapside, the cheeky london sparrow.
and now very soon cheapside took entire charge of the city delivery of mails in fantippo. of course, as soon as the mail began to get heavy, when the people got the habit of writing more to their friends and relatives, cheapside could not deal with all the mail himself. so he sent a message by a swallow to get fifty sparrows from the streets of london (who were, like himself, accustomed to city ways), to help him with the delivery of letters. and around the native holiday seasons, the harvest moon and the coming of the rains, he had to send for fifty more to deal with the extra mail.
and if you happened to pass down the main street of fantippo at nine in the morning or four in the afternoon you would hear the rat-tat-tat of the post-sparrows, knocking on the doors—tat-tat, if it was a real letter, and just rat! if it was a bill.
of course, they could not carry more than one or two letters at a time—being such small birds. but it only took them a moment to fly back to the houseboat for another load, where too-too was waiting for them at the "city" window with piles of mail, sorted out into boxes marked "central," "west central," "southwest," etc., for the different parts of the town. this was another idea of cheapside's, to divide up the city into districts, the same as they did in london, so the mail could be delivered quickly without too much hunting for streets.
cheapside's help was, indeed, most valuable to the doctor. the king himself said that the mails were wonderfully managed. the letters were brought regularly and never left at the wrong house.
he had only one fault, had cheapside. and that was being cheeky. whenever he got into an argument his cockney swearing was just dreadful. and in spite of the doctor's having issued orders time and time again that he expected his post office clerks and mail birds to be strictly polite to the public, cheapside was always getting into rows—which he usually started himself.
one day when king koko's pet white peacock came to the doctor and complained that the cockney sparrow had made faces at him over the palace wall the doctor became quite angry and read the city manager a long lecture.
then cheapside got together a gang of his tough london sparrow friends and one night they flew into the palace garden and mobbed the white peacock and pulled three feathers out of his beautiful tail.
this last piece of rowdyism was too much for john dolittle and, calling up cheapside, he discharged him on the spot—though he was very sorry to do it.
but when the sparrow went all his london friends went with him and the post office was left with no city birds to attend to the city deliveries. the swallows and other birds tried their hardest to get letters around to the houses properly. but they couldn't. and before long complaints began to come in from the townspeople.
then the doctor was sorry and wished he hadn't discharged cheapside, who seemed to be the only one who could manage this part of the mails properly.
but one day, to the doctor's great delight—though he tried hard to look angry—cheapside strolled into the post office with a straw in the corner of his mouth, looking as though nothing had happened.
john dolittle had thought that he and his friends had gone home to london. but they hadn't. they knew the doctor would need them and they had just hung around outside the town. and then the doctor, after lecturing cheapside again about politeness, gave him back his job.
but the next day the rowdy little sparrow threw a bottle of post office ink over the royal white peacock when he came to the houseboat with the king to take tea. then the doctor discharged cheapside again.
in fact, the doctor used to discharge him for rudeness regularly about once a month. and the city mails always got tied up soon after. but, to the doctor's great relief, the city manager always came back just when the tie-up was at its worst and put things right again.
cheapside was a wonderful bird. but it seemed as though he just couldn't go a whole month without being rude to somebody. the doctor said it was in his nature.
