“But,” said the gentleman, with an amused smile, “I must see some of your work first. Perkins, bring the typewriter!”
The boy brought the instrument, and placed it on a small table.
“Now, then,” said the gentleman, motioning the Dodo towards it.
“Oh! it’s so long since I played,” said the Dodo, smirking bashfully, “I think I have almost forgotten my notes; however, I’ll try.” And, throwing his head back, he shrieked out in a discordant voice—
“Do—o—o not—a—for—r—r—get m—e—e—e!” banging on the keys at the same time with both pinions.
“Here! Stop! Stop!” called out the gentleman; “you’ll break it! That’s not the way to do typewriting.”
“No?” said the Dodo, innocently. “I thought it was a kind of piano. I was singing to you, you know.”
“Oh! were you?” remarked the gentleman. “Well, don’t do it again, please. I can see you won’t do for us as typewriter,” he added; “but perhaps I can get you a good situation at the Zoological Gardens. What do you say to that, eh?”
The Dodo, who during the first part of the speech looked very crestfallen, brightened up considerably.
“Yes, I should think that would do,” he said; “I’ll just go and ask the others.”