"What's that?" asked Jip, who was brushing up the table , to be put out later for the birds on the houseboat deck.
"A weather bureau," said the Doctor, "is a very important thing—especially for and farmers. It is an office for telling you what kind of weather you're going to have."
"How do they do it?" asked Gub-Gub.
"They don't," said the Doctor—"at least they do sometimes. But as often as not they're wrong. They do it with instruments—thermometers, , hygrometers and wind and things. But most weather bureaus so far have been pretty poor. I think I can do much better with my birds. They very seldom go wrong in the weather."
"Well, for what parts of the world do you want to know the weather, Doctor?" asked the gull. "If it's just for Fantippo or West Africa it will be easy as pie. All you ever get here is . The rest of the year is just frying heat. But if you want to the weather for the Straits of Magellan or Nova Zembla or those countries where they have all sorts of fancy weathers, it will be a different matter. Even prophesying the weather for England would keep you busy. Myself, I never thought that the weather itself knew what it was going to do next in England."
"The English climate's all right," put in Cheapside, his feathers up for a fight. "Don't you get turning up your long nose at England, my lad. What do you call this 'ere? A climate? Well, I should call it a Turkish bath. In England we like variety in our climate. And we get it. That's why Englishmen 'ave such 'earty red faces. 'Ere the poor creatures turn black."
"I would like," said the Doctor, "to be able to prophesy weather for every part of the world. I really don't see why I shouldn't; this office, together with my branch offices, is in communication with birds going to every corner of the earth. I could improve the farming and the agriculture of the whole human race. But also, and especially, I want to have a bureau for ocean weather, to help the ships."
"Ah," said the gull, "for land weather I wouldn't be much help to you. But when it comes to the oceans, I know a bird who can tell you more about sea weather than any bureau ever knew."
"Oh," said the Doctor, "who is that?"
"We call him One Eye," said the gull. "He's an old, old albatross. Nobody knows how old. He lost an eye fighting with a fish eagle over a flounder. But he's the most marvelous weather prophet that ever lived. All sea birds have the greatest respect for his opinions. He has never been known to make a mistake."
"Indeed?" said the Doctor. "I would like very much to meet him."
"I'll get him for you," said the gull. "His home is not very far from here—out on a rock off the Angola coast. He lives there because the shellfish are so on the rock and he's too feeble—with his bad sight—to catch the other kinds of livelier fish. It's a sort of dull life for his old age, after all the great traveling he has done. He'll be no end pleased to know you want his help. I'll go and tell him right away."
"That will be splendid," said the Doctor. "I think your friend should be very helpful to us."
So the gull, after thanking the Doctor and Dab-Dab for a very excellent , took a couple of postcards which were going to Angola and flew off to get One Eye, the albatross.
Later in the afternoon the gull returned and with him came the great One Eye, oldest of bird weather prophets.
The Doctor said
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