"I am the Ornithorhynchus Paradoxus!" said the Platypus pompously.
"I am Dot," said the little girl.
"Now we know one another's names," said the Platypus, with satisfaction.
"If the Kangaroo had introduced us, it would have stumbled over my name,
and mumbled yours, and we should have been none the wiser. Now tell me,
little Human, are you going to write a book about me? Because, if you
are, I'm off. I can't stand any more books being written about me; I've
been annoyed enough that way."
"I couldn't write a book," said Dot, with surprise inwardly wondering what
anyone could find to make a book of, out of such a small, ugly creature.
"You're quite sure?" asked the Platypus, doubtfully, and evidently more
than half inclined to dive into the pool.
"Quite," said Dot.
"Then I'll try to believe you," said the Platypus, clumsily waddling
towards some grass, amongst which it settled itself comfortably. "But
it's very difficult to believe you Humans, for you tell such dreadful
fibs," it continued, as it squirted some dirty water out of the bag that
surrounded its bill, and swallowed some water beetles, small snails and
mud that it had stored there. "See, for instance, the way you have all
quarrelled and lied about me! First one great Human, the biggest fool of
all, said I wasn't a live creature at all, but a joke another Human had
played upon him.
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