Doctor lives. Matthew knows everyone."

So I hurried across the market-place and caught him up.

"Matthew," I said, "do you know Doctor Dolittle?"

"Do I know John Dolittle!" said he. "Well, I should think I do!
I know him as well as I know my own wife--better, I sometimes
think. He's a great man--a very great man."

"Can you show me where he lives?" I asked. "I want to take this
squirrel to him. It has a broken leg."

"Certainly," said the cat's-meat-man. "I'll be going right by his
house directly. Come along and I'll show you."

So off we went together.

"Oh, I've known John Dolittle for years and years," said Matthew
as we made our way out of the market-place. "But I'm pretty sure
he ain't home just now. He's away on a voyage. But he's liable
to be back any day. I'll show you his house and then you'll know
where to find him."

All the way down the Oxenthorpe Road Matthew hardly stopped
talking about his great friend, Doctor John Dolittle--"M. D." He
talked so much that he forgot all about calling out "Meat!" until
we both suddenly noticed that we had a whole procession of dogs
following us patiently.