The Dodo, from his elevated position, had a capital view of everything of interest which they passed, and kept the cabby highly amused by his exceedingly naïve remarks about them all; while, to every exclamation of surprise or derision, which met them on every side from astounded street boys, the remarkable bird had something droll and amusing to say in reply. In fact, the driver declares to this day, that he never before or since has had so extraordinary a fare.
CHAPTER XXV.
THE DODO OBLIGES WITH A SONG.
“Hold hard! Stop! Here we are!” cried the Dodo, soon after they had reached Charing Cross. “There’s A. B. C.”
“We haven’t got to Norfolk Street yet,” said the cabby.
“Never mind, there’s A. B. C., and that’s who I want,” declared the Dodo, scrambling down from the roof. “You stay in the cab till I come back,” he called out to the children, smoothing his gloves and settling his tie as he walked towards the door.
The children watched him enter, and through the glass door of the shop—for it was a shop into which he had gone—saw him engaged in a lengthy conversation with a young lady, who at first seemed afraid of him; but, some more ladies coming up, they closed around the bird, and seemed to be highly amused at something, while the Dodo grew more and more excited, waving his pinions about, and stamping his claws furiously, and finally rushing out of the shop and slamming the door too violently.
“I never heard of such impertinence,” he declared, puffing and blowing in his excitement, “putting up A. B. C., when they are nothing of the sort. They wanted to tell me that they have a right to use those letters, because they are the Aerated Bread Company. What rubbish! They might as well stick up X. Y. Z. Who’s to know what’s meant? Aerated Bread Company, indeed! It might as well have stood for Antediluvian Bottlewashing Company. Bah! I’ve no patience with such nonsense.” And in a highly-ruffled state of mind he scrambled back to his place on the roof, and told the cabby to drive on to Norfolk Street.