"I don't know," I said. "I've never tried."

"Well that," said Polynesia, brushing some crumbs off the corner
of the table with her left foot--"that is what you call powers of
observation--noticing the small things about birds and animals:
the way they walk and move their heads and flip their wings; the
way they sniff the air and twitch their whiskers and wiggle their
tails. You have to notice all those little things if you want to
learn animal language. For you see, lots of the animals hardly
talk at all with their tongues; they use their breath or their
tails or their feet instead. That is because many of them, in the
olden days when lions and tigers were more plentiful, were afraid
to make a noise for fear the savage creatures heard them. Birds,
of course, didn't care; for they always had wings to fly away
with. But that is the first thing to remember: being a good
noticer is terribly important in learning animal language."

"It sounds pretty hard," I said.

"You'll have to be very patient," said Polynesia. "It takes a
long time to say even a few words properly. But if you come here
often I'll give you a few lessons myself. And once you get
started you'll be surprised how fast you get on. It would indeed
be a good thing if you could learn. Because then you could do
some of the work for the Doctor--I mean the easier work, like
bandaging and giving pills. Yes, yes, that's a good idea of
mine. 'Twould be a great thing if the poor man could get some
help--and some rest. It is a scandal the way he works. I see no
reason why you shouldn't be able to help him a great deal--That
is, if you are really interested in animals."