"Who is John Dolittle?" I asked. "Is he a vet?"
"No," said the mussel-man. "He's no vet. Doctor Dolittle is a nacheralist."
"What's a nacheralist?"
"A nacheralist," said Joe, putting away his glasses and starting to fill his pipe, "is a man who knows all about animals and butterflies and plants and rocks an' all. John Dolittle is a very great nacheralist. I'm surprised you never heard of him—and you daft over animals. He knows a whole lot about shellfish—that I know from my own knowledge. He's a quiet man and don't talk much; but there's folks who do say he's the greatest nacheralist in the world."
"Where does he live?" I asked.
"Over on the Oxenthorpe Road, t'other side the town. Don't know just which house it is, but 'most anyone 'cross there could tell you, I reckon. Go and see him. He's a great man."
So I thanked the mussel-man, took up my squirrel again and started off towards the Oxenthorpe Road.
The first thing I heard as I came into the marketplace was some one calling "Meat! M-E-A-T!"
"There's Matthew Mugg," I said to myself. "He'll know where this Doctor lives. Matthew knows everyone."
So I hurried across the market-place and caught him up.
