Mr. Popper's Penguins Read Online Free PDF Page B

Captain Cook, made a lovely frozen custard for him. Nothing did any good. Captain Cook was too far gone.

    He slept all day now in a heavy stupor, and everyone was saying that the end was not far away.
    All the Poppers had grown terribly fond of the funny, solemn little chap, and Mr. Popper’s heart was frozen with terror. It seemed to him that his life would be very empty if Captain Cook went away.
    Surely someone would know what to do for a sick penguin. He wished that there were some way of asking advice of Admiral Drake, away down at the South Pole, but there was not time.
    In his despair, Mr. Popper had an idea. A letter had brought him his pet. He sat down and wrote another letter.
    It was addressed to Dr. Smith, the Curator of the great Aquarium in Mammoth City, the largest in the world. Surely if anyone anywhere had any idea what could cure a dying penguin, this man would.
    Two days later there was an answer from the Curator. “Unfortunately,” he wrote, “it is not easy to cure a sick penguin. Perhaps you do not know that we too have, in our aquarium at Mammoth City, a penguin from the Antarctic. It is failing rapidly, in spite of everything we have done for it. I have wondered lately whether it is not suffering from loneliness. Perhaps that is what ails your Captain Cook. I am, therefore, shipping you, under separate cover, our penguin. You may keep her. There is just a chance that the birds may get on better together.”
    And that is how Greta came to live at 432 Proudfoot Avenue.

Chapter XI
Greta
    S O C APTAIN C OOK did not die, after all.
    There were two penguins in the refrigerator, one standing and one sitting on the nest under the ice cubes.
    “They’re as like as two peas,” said Mrs. Popper.
    “As two penguins, you mean,” answered Mr. Popper.
    “Yes, but which is which?”
    At this moment the standing penguin jumped out of the icebox, reached inside and took one of the checkers from under the sitting penguin, whose eyes were closed in sleep, and laid it at Mr. Popper’s feet.
    “See, Mamma, he’s thanking me,” said Mr. Popper, patting the penguin. “At the South Pole that’s the way a penguin shows its friendship, only it uses a stone instead of a checker. This one must be Captain Cook, and he’s trying to show that he’s grateful to us for getting him Greta and saving his life.”
    “Yes, but how are we going to tell them apart? It’s very confusing.”
    “I will go down in the cellar and get some white paint and paint their names on their black backs.”
    And he opened the cellar door and started down, nearly tripping when Captain Cook unexpectedly tobogganed down after him. When he came up again, Mr. Popper had a brush and a small paint-can in his hands, while the penguin had a white CAPT. COOK on his back.
    “ Gook! ” said Captain Cook, proudly showing his name to the penguin in the icebox.
    “ Gaw! ” said the sitting Penguin, and then squirming around in her nest, she turned her back to Mr. Popper.
    So Mr. Popper sat down on the floor in front of the icebox, while Captain Cook watched, first with one eye, then with the other.
    “What are you going to call her?” asked Mrs. Popper.
    “Greta.”
    “It’s a nice name,” said Mrs. Popper, “and she seems like a nice bird, too. But the two of them fill the icebox, and pretty soon there will be eggs, and the next thing you know, the icebox won’t be big enough for your penguins. Besides, you haven’t done a thing about how I’m going to keep the food cold.”
    “I will, my love,” promised Mr. Popper. “It is already pretty cold for the middle of October, and it will soon be cold enough outside for Captain Cook and Greta.”
    “Yes,” said Mrs. Popper, “but if you keep them outside the house, they might run away.”
    “Mamma,” said Mr. Popper, “you put your food back in the icebox tonight, and we will just keep Greta and Captain Cook in the house. Captain Cook can help me move the nest into the other room.