Slowly and smoothly the snake slid in over the window sill and down on to the floor of the houseboat. Yards and yards and more yards long he came, coiling himself up neatly at John Dolittle's feet like a mooring rope on a ship's deck.
"Pardon me, but is there much more of you outside still?" asked the Doctor.
"Yes," said the snake, "only half of me is in yet."
"Then I'll open the door," said the Doctor, "so you can coil part of yourself in the passage. This room is a bit small."
When at last the great serpent was all in, his thick coils entirely covered the floor of the Doctor's office and a good part of him overflowed into the passage outside.
"Now," said the Doctor, closing the window, "what can I do for you?"
"I've brought you this letter," said the snake. "It's from the turtle. He is wondering why he got no answer to his first."
"But he gave me no address," said John Dolittle, taking the muddy envelope from the serpent. "I've been trying my hardest ever since to find out where he lived."
"Oh, was that it?" said the snake. "Well, old Mudface isn't much of a letter-writer. I suppose he didn't know he had to give his address."
"I'm awfully glad to hear from him again," said the Doctor. "I had given up all hope of ever seeing him. You can show me how to get to him?"