Chapter IV: Part 4

So they hurried out of the car, and the little old lady went with them, and there the children saw a nice little railroad station, like an umbrella, built under a tree. It was right in the middle of a field.

“My, this is a queer place,” said the little old lady, as she looked around. “I don’t see how we are going to get away from here,” for, would you believe me? as soon as they had gotten off the train, the cars and the choo-choo engine puffed away and left them all standing there.

“Maybe we’ll find the pink cow, and she can take us home,” said Mary, so she and her brothers looked all around, but they couldn’t see the cow. But they heard a funny buzzing, humming noise, and, all at once, along came a trolley car.

“Oh, that’s the very thing!” cried the little old lady. “I’m sure you can get home in that.”

“Perhaps we can, if the conductor knows us,” said Mary.

And when the trolley car buzzed up, with a lot of electric sparks coming out of the roof, the conductor leaned out over the platform and said:

“Who wants to go home?”

“We do!” cried Mary and Tommy and Johnny.

“Then hop on!” said the trolley-car conductor, with a jolly laugh; so they hopped on, and the car went off before the little old lady could get aboard.

“Oh!” cried Mary. “She’s left behind! Now we can never find our way home.”

“Oh, yes, you can,” exclaimed the trolley-car conductor. “I know you children. You are the Trippertrots, and my car goes right past your house. I’ll see you there safely.”

So off the car started, with the three Trippertrots inside, and the little old lady, who was left behind, waved good-by to them. And the children didn’t have to pay any car-fare, either.

Inside the car were many people. And there was one very slim boy, who was very tall, and he kept going to sleep all the while, until finally the conductor came in and hung him up across one of the straps, just as if he was a clothes-pin. And there the tall thin boy slept just as well as if he had been home in bed.

And then, pretty soon, the car stopped right in front of the Trippertrot home, and Tommy and Mary and Johnny ran up the steps of their house, very glad indeed to get back, I do assure you.

ADVENTURE NUMBER SEVENTEEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE LAME BIRD

Mary and Tommy and Johnny Trippertrot were coming home from school early one day when something strange happened to them. You see, the Trippertrot children were in the kindergarten class.

“What did you learn to-day?” asked Mary of Tommy, as all three of them came along the street together.

“Oh,” said Tommy, “I learned how to cut out a paper lantern, and it’s real pretty when you hang it up.”

“That’s nice,” said Mary; “and will you show me how to make one when we get home?”

“Of course,” answered Tommy, who liked his sister very much.

“And what did you learn to make in the kindergarten class?” asked Mary of Johnny.

“Oh, the teacher showed us how to make a chain out of paper,” answered Johnny, “and you can put it around your neck for a necklace.”

“Oh, how lovely!” cried Mary. “I’d like a chain like that.”

“Then I’ll show you how to make one,” said Johnny kindly. “But what did you learn to make to-day, Mary?”

“Oh, our teacher showed us how to fold a piece of square red paper, and then cut it with the scissors, and then bend the corners over and make a pin-wheel just like the man sells at the circus, where there are lions, and tigers, and elephants that eat peanuts.”

“Lions and tigers don’t eat peanuts,” said Tommy.

“I know that,” answered Mary, “but elephants do, for once I had a whole bagful, and I was giving the baby elephant one peanut, and a big elephant behind me, when I didn’t see him, reached over with his trunk, and took my whole bag of peanuts out of my hand, and ate them up at one mouthful.”

“Oh! that was terrible!” cried Johnny. “I wish we had some peanuts now.”

“Well, let’s hurry home, and maybe mamma will give us some,” said Mary. “Anyhow, we can make the paper things which the kindergarten teacher showed us. Let’s hurry home.”

“That’s what we can,” exclaimed Johnny, and then the three little Trippertrots tripped and trotted toward their home, for they didn’t want to get lost again, you see, and have to be brought home in a trolley car.

As they were going down the street where their house was, and when they were almost at home, all at once a little birdie fluttered along the sidewalk.

“Oh, look!” cried Mary. “There’s a little birdie.”

“Yes, and it’s lame, too,” said Tommy.

“Maybe we can catch it, and make it better,” spoke Johnnie, and he hurried after the birdie, which really was lame. There was something the matter with one of its legs, so that it couldn’t hop very well, and there was something the matter with one of its wings, so that it could only flutter along.

“Wait, little birdie!” exclaimed Tommy kindly, “I won’t hurt you the least bit.”

But perhaps the bird didn’t understand Tommy’s talk. At any rate, it still fluttered on, and the three Trippertrot children kept after it, for Johnny and Mary wouldn’t let Tommy go on alone.

“Wait, birdie!” called Tommy again, “and I’ll give you my paper lantern,” for Tommy had brought one with him from his kindergarten class.

But I guess the birdie didn’t like paper lanterns. Anyway, he kept on fluttering along, just far enough ahead so that the Trippertrot children couldn’t catch him. They didn’t want to hurt him, you understand; no, indeed! They only wanted to help him.

“Oh, wait a minute, little bird!” called Johnny, “and I will give you my paper chain.”

But perhaps the birdie was afraid the paper chain might get tangled in his legs. At any rate, he didn’t wait, but kept on fluttering along the sidewalk.

“Perhaps some cat might get him,” said Mary, after a while. “We must try to catch that birdie, boys, and put him in a safe place. Wait, and I will speak to him.”

So Mary walked on in front of Tommy and Johnny, and said, in her soft little voice:

“Wait a minute, birdie, and you may have my paper pin-wheel that I made in kindergarten class, and it goes around and around as fast as anything.”

“What goes around,” asked Tommy, with a laugh, “the pin-wheel or the kindergarten class?”

“Both of them,” answered Mary quickly. “The pin-wheel goes around when you blow your breath on it, and the kindergarten class goes around when teacher plays the piano, and we march and play games. But now please keep quiet, and I may get the birdie.”

So Mary walked on ahead, very, very softly, and once more she told the lame birdie that it might have her pin-wheel. I don’t know just how it was, but perhaps the birdie thought if he had the pin-wheel he might be able to fly up in the air again. At any rate, he stopped fluttering, and a moment later Mary had him softly nestled in her little, warm hands.

“Oh, you dear, darling little birdie!” she exclaimed.

“One of his legs is hurt and so is one of his wings,” said Mary, as she looked at the little lame birdie. “Oh, boys!” she exclaimed, “I know what let’s do!”

“What?” asked Johnny.

“Let’s take this bird to a doctor’s office,” went on Mary, “and the doctor will make him all better. How’s that?”

“Fine!” cried Tommy and Johnny together, and then they looked up and down the street to see a house where a doctor lived. And then, all of a sudden, Johnny cried:

“Oh, Mary! Oh, Tommy! We’re lost again! We came down the wrong street, when we followed the fluttering birdie, and now can’t find our way home again! Oh, what shall we do?”

“Oh, never mind!” spoke Mary, after a bit, when she had looked all around to see if she could find the way home, but she couldn’t. “Never mind. We’ll go to the doctor’s office first, and maybe he can tell us the way home.”

“Maybe he can!” said Tommy and Johnny, and then they didn’t feel badly any more. Well, the Trippertrot children walked on, Mary carrying the birdie, which was just as happy as it could be now. And pretty soon the children met a nice man.

“If you please, sir,” said Tommy, “can you tell us where there’s a doctor’s office?”

“Why, are you sick?” asked the man quickly.

“No, but the bird is,” said Johnny. “And we’re lost.”

“But we didn’t mean to be,” said Tommy quickly. “You see, we were coming home from school, and we kept on going after this birdie, until, all of a sudden, we were lost.”

“I see,” said the man, with a jolly laugh. “Well, I hope you will find your home again. The doctor’s office is just a few houses down this street. Right next to the candy store,” he added.

“Oh, thank you, then we can easily find it,” said Mary quickly; “we just love candy.”

“Then here is a cent for each of you,” spoke the man, and he gave them each a cent, and pretty soon the Trippertrot children ran on, and they were at the candy store. And they bought some sticks of peppermint candy, and then they rang the bell at the doctor’s office.

“Well, what is it, children?” asked the doctor, when he came to the door. “I hope you are not all sick.”

“No, but the little lame birdie is,” said Tommy, “and will you please cure him? We would give you some pennies for doing it, but we just spent them all for candy, so we have none.”

“Hum, then I’m afraid _you_ may be sick, as well as the birdie,” said the doctor.

“We’re lost, anyhow, but we’re not sick--that is, not yet, if you please,” said Mary. “But can you cure the birdie?”

“Oh, I’m afraid not,” said the doctor kindly. “You see, I am a boy-or-a-girl or a man-or-a-lady doctor, but not a bird-doctor. You will have to take the birdie to a bird-doctor.”

“If you please, where is one?” asked Johnny.

“I don’t know,” answered the man-doctor.

“Then I guess you will have to be one yourself,” said Mary. “If you can cure a boy or a girl you can cure a bird. And then, please will you find our home for us? We’re the Trippertrots, and we’re lost.”

“Oh, my! Oh, my!” exclaimed the doctor, and he laughed and scratched his head. “I don’t know what in the world to do. But come in, and bring the bird.”

Then he took them inside and he gave the bird some warm milk, and he put some salve on the sore wing and leg, and pretty soon the birdie was all well again.

“Now what are you going to do with the bird?” asked the doctor when he had cured it. “Are you going to take it home, and put it in a cage?”

“No, indeed!” exclaimed Mary. “Birdies don’t like to be shut up in a cage. We’re going to let it go; aren’t we, boys?”

“Of course,” said Tommy and Johnny. So the doctor opened a window and out flew the little birdie, and it was so happy that it wiggled its tail and called “cheep-cheep!” to the children.

“And now can you please take us home?” said Mary to the doctor. “We are tired and we haven’t been home from school yet, and mamma may worry. Besides, we want to make some paper lanterns, and paper chains, and paper pin-wheels. Please take us home.”

“Dear me!” exclaimed the doctor. “I hardly know what to do. Where do you live?”

“We don’t know,” said Mary and Tommy and Johnny at once.

“Oh, this is worse and worse!” exclaimed the doctor.

“Don’t you know where we live?” asked Mary. “I thought doctors knew everything.”

“I only wish I did,” said the doctor kindly. “But I will see what I can do.” So he called in Bridget, his cook, and asked her if she knew where the children lived.

“Of course,” answered Bridget. “They are the Trippertrots. They live a couple of streets from here.”

“Can you take them home?” asked the doctor.

“Ah, sure I can,” said Bridget.

“Then please do,” said the doctor.

So Bridget put on her bonnet and shawl, and started to take the Trippertrots home, but on the way there something else happened.

ADVENTURE NUMBER EIGHTEEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE NICE BIG DOG

Bridget led Tommy and Mary and Johnny Trippertrot down the steps of the house and started off up the street with them.

“Are you sure, if you please, that you know where we live, Bridget?” asked Mary.

“Ah, sure I do!” exclaimed Bridget, with a laugh. “I know Suzette, your mamma’s nursemaid, and if I know what house _she_ lives in, sure I can take you to that _same_ house, can’t I?”

“Oh, I’m sure you can!” exclaimed Mary, “and if we had any of our candy left we’d give you some; wouldn’t we, boys?”

“Yes, indeed!” exclaimed Tommy and Johnny together, like twins, you know.

“Oh, bless your dear little hearts!” exclaimed Bridget. “I don’t want any candy. But come along now, and you’ll soon be home.”

So she led them up one street, and down another, and pretty soon they came to a window of a store that was filled with pretty toys. Oh, there were trains of cars, and toy soldiers, and dolls, and doll carriages, and steam engines, and elephants that waggled their heads, and all things like that.

“Oh, don’t you remember this place?” cried Mary to her brothers.

“Yes,” said Johnny, “this is the toy shop where we came the first time we were lost, and we choosed things from the window.”

“That’s what it is,” agreed Tommy.

“Have you children been lost before?” asked Bridget.

“Oh, we’re always getting lost!” exclaimed Mary. “Aren’t we, boys?”

“Of course,” answered Tommy and Johnny together, once more like twins, you know.

“But it isn’t our fault,” said Mary. “It’s just like to-day; something always leads us off, like a lame birdie or a pink cow, or the dancing bears.”

“Bless and save us!” cried Bridget. “What funny children you are, to be sure! But come along, and we’ll soon be home.”

Well, she was hurrying them along as fast as she could, for it was getting on toward evening, you know, when all at once Johnny fell down and he bumped his nose on the sidewalk.

“Oh, my!” he exclaimed.

“There now, don’t cry!” said Mary.

“I’m not going to!” said Johnny bravely. “But--but I want to very much, and it hurts awful, that’s what it does,” and he couldn’t help two tears coming into his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall down on the sidewalk; no, indeed. Oh, I tell you he was a brave little boy!

“Never mind,” said Bridget, “I’ll rub my gold ring on the sore spot, and maybe that will make it better.”

So she rubbed her cold gold ring on Johnny’s sore nose, and it was soon better--I mean his nose was better, not the ring, you know.

Well, all of a sudden, as Bridget was leading the children along the street, and they were thinking they would soon be at home, Bridget cried out:

“Oh, dear! I quite forgot that I left the meat cooking on the stove for the doctor’s supper! It will be all burned up! I must hurry back to the house. Oh, dear! Poor man, he can’t eat burned meat! I must go back at once.”

“Are you going to take us back with you?” asked Mary, and she didn’t feel like going, as her feet were very tired, and she wanted to get home.

“Take you back with me?” cried Bridget. “No, I don’t believe I’ll do that, or you’ll never get home. See, darlings, it’s but a short step now to your house. Just down this street a little way, and then you turn the corner, and there you are. Don’t you think you can find it by yourselves? The little boy who didn’t cry when he bumped his nose ought to be able to find it.”

“I--I guess I can,” said Johnny.

“We’ll try, anyhow,” spoke Tommy.

“Well, if we get lost again we can’t help it,” said Mary.

“Oh, you won’t get lost,” declared Bridget, and then, giving them each a kiss, she hurried back to the doctor’s house so that the supper meat wouldn’t burn.

Well, the children stood still in the street for a minute, and then they started in the direction Bridget had shown them. They thought surely, this time, they could find their house. They were beginning to be hungry.

“Come on, let’s hurry,” said Mary, so she took hold of Johnny’s hand on one side, and Tommy’s hand on the other, and away they went.

They hadn’t gone very far before, all at once, and when they hadn’t yet had time to turn the corner, a nice, big, black and white dog came running toward them.

“Oh, look, there’s Fido, our dog!” cried Tommy.

“No, Fido isn’t as big as that,” said Johnny quickly. “That is another dog.”

“But he’s as nice as our Fido,” said Mary, and the boys were sure this was so.

“And oh, look!” exclaimed Tommy, when the big black and white dog came closer to them, “this dog must have run away, for there’s a broken string fast to his collar. Maybe he broke it, and pulled away from the little house in the yard where he lives.”

“Maybe he did,” agreed Mary. “Doggie, did you run away, and are you lost?” she asked him.

The doggie wagged his tail up and down.

“Look! Look!” cried Tommy. “He’s saying ‘yes.’ He must be lost, the same as we were.”

“Do you want us to take you home?” asked Johnny, and once more the nice, big dog wagged his tail up and down, just as if he was saying “yes,” that he did.

“Then we’ll take you home,” said Johnny kindly. “Wait a minute, doggie, until I get hold of that string around your neck.”

So the dog waited, and Johnny took hold of the cord, and so did Tommy; and then Mary said:

“Oh, boys, I am _so_ tired I don’t believe I can walk another step to take that lost doggie home. Besides, you don’t know where he lives, and it may take a long time.”

“Doggies always know their own selves where they live,” said Tommy; “don’t you, doggie?”

And once more the doggie said “yes” with his tail, that he waggled up and down.

“Very well, then,” said Mary. “I’ll wait here until you come back, after you take the doggie home.”

“Oh, I know something better than that!” cried Tommy.

“What?” asked Mary, looking about for a place where she could sit down.

“Why, you can ride on the doggie’s back,” exclaimed Tommy. “He is big and strong, and he won’t mind carrying you the least bit; will you, doggie? You’ll carry Mary on your back, won’t you?”

“Bow-wow!” barked the doggie, which means “yes,” of course, and besides that he waggled his tail again.

So Mary’s two brothers lifted her up on the doggie’s back, and he stood still, just like a pony-horse. Then Tommy and Johnny took hold of the string on the dog’s collar and they called:

“Go ahead now, doggie. Go where you live.”

Then the dog looked around, to make sure that Mary was safely on his back, and off he trotted. He went so fast that he nearly pulled Tommy and Johnny off their feet.

“Oh, wait! Please wait!” cried Tommy.

“Yes, don’t go so fast!” begged Johnny.

“For you’re jouncing me all to pieces,” said Mary, who was holding on as tightly as she could by winding her fingers in the dog’s shaggy hair on his back.

Then the dog said: “Bow-wow! bow-wow!” which meant that he was sorry, and he went slower.

Along the street went the three little Trippertrots, and the nice big dog, and Tommy and Johnny and Mary were watching all the while for the place where the dog lived.

But that dog kept straight on, and didn’t seem to want to turn in anywhere.

“Oh!” exclaimed Mary, “s’posin’ he hasn’t any home!”

“He’s _got_ to have a home,” said Tommy. “All dogs have homes, and we’ll come to this one’s pretty soon.”

“But we’re going right away from our home,” said Mary, “and maybe we can’t ever find it. I’m afraid we’ll be lost again.”

“Oh, I guess not,” spoke Johnny. “Is your home near here?” he asked, in the doggie’s ear.

“Bow-wow! Bow-wow!” barked the doggie.

“Now what do you s’pose he means?” asked Mary.

“I don’t know,” said Tommy.

“Neither do I,” spoke Johnny, “but we’ll keep right on, and we’ll get there some time.”

Pretty soon they met a nice man, and he said to the children:

“Well, where is that big dog taking you?”

“If you please, he isn’t taking _us_ anywhere,” said Mary. “We’re taking _him_ home. He’s lost.”

“Oh, I see,” said the man, with a laugh. “Well, be sure you don’t get lost yourselves.”

Then Mary and Tommy and Johnny went on a little farther with the dog, until all at once, when they got in front of a nice, big, brown-stone house, they heard a little boy cry out:

“Oh, papa, there’s Nero come back! Some children are bringing him back! Oh, how glad I am! I thought he was lost.”

“Is this your dog?” asked Tommy, when the little boy and a man came down the steps.

“Yes,” said the man, “that is my little boy’s dog.”

“And his name is Nero, and he was lost,” spoke the boy.

“Where did you find him?” asked the boy’s papa, while Nero danced around and barked as loudly as he could, because he was so happy to be home again.

“He was lost, and we found him,” answered Mary, who had slid down off Nero’s back, “but now _we_ are lost.”

“Never mind,” said the man, “since you were so kind as to bring my little boy’s dog home, I will send _you_ home in my carriage. James,” he called to the coachman, “hitch up the horses, and take these children home. And, Nero, you must never run away again.”

So Nero barked, which, I suppose, was his way of saying that he never would, and then he went in the house with the little boy. And pretty soon the horses were hitched to the carriage.

“Oh, goody! We’re going to have a ride home!” exclaimed Mary.

ADVENTURE NUMBER NINETEEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE POOR LITTLE BOY

“Oh, this is the best fun yet!” exclaimed Tommy. “I’m real glad we got lost this time.” He could see the nice coach and horses now.

“So am I,” said Johnny.

“And to think of going home in a real coach, with a real coachman!” exclaimed Mary. “It will be real stylish!”

“Yes, and they are real horses, too!” exclaimed Tommy, as the coachman came along the driveway, driving the prancing animals.

“Of course!” cried Johnny. “If they weren’t real horses we’d never get home.”

“Oh, well,” said Mary, “I guess Tommy meant they might be rocking-horses, or sawhorses, or clothes-horses, such as we once rode on. But I’m glad they are real horses. Oh, here we are, all ready for a ride.”

And with that the coachman drove up to the steps and stopped the carriage.

“Jump in, children!” he called to them, “and I’ll soon have you home. Whoa, there, horsies! Don’t jump so and prance about, or you might step on somebody’s toes.”

Then the horses stood very quiet, and Tommy and Mary and Johnny got into the nice carriage. Oh, it was a fine one! with such soft cushions on the seats, and little windows, out of which the children could look, and see what was happening in the streets.

And oh, so many things were happening! There were trolley cars rushing here and there, some one way and some another way, and there were wagons being driven here, and there, and some were from the grocery store, and some from the butcher store. And then there were such lots of automobiles, with their horns going “Toot! Toot!”

“I believe there must be forty-’leven autos at the very least,” said Tommy.

“I’m glad we’re not walking home,” said Mary, “because an automobile might accidentally bump into us.”

“Yes, it’s nice here,” said Tommy, and just then a man with a peanut wagon ran it across the street, right under the noses of the coachman’s horses.

“Hey, there! Where are you going?” cried the coachman to the peanut man, and the coachman had to pull up the horses very quickly, or the peanut man might have been run over. Mind, I’m not saying for sure, but he _might_ have been, you know, though I hope none of us would want a thing like that to happen. “Where are you going?” called the coachman again.

“I am going across the street, so as to get on the other side,” said the peanut man. “None of the people over there would buy any of my hot peanuts, so I want to go over on the other side.”

“Quite right,” said the coachman kindly. “I don’t blame you a bit.”

“Oh, isn’t it too bad that nobody would buy his peanuts, poor man!” said Mary. “I would buy some, if I had the money.”

“So would I!” exclaimed Tommy.

“And so would I,” added Johnny.

“Would you now, bless your hearts?” said the hot peanut man. “Then it is I who will be wishing you _did_ have the money.”

“Oh, well, maybe if they haven’t I have,” said the coachman, and, with that, what did he do? He put his one hand in his pocket, while holding on to the horses’ reins with the other, and out he pulled three five-cent pieces. “Here,” said the coachman kindly, “give the children each a bag of hot peanuts.”

“That I will!” exclaimed the peanut man, “and here’s a bag for yourself, Mr. Coachman, for being so kind as not to run over me while I was crossing the street.”

“Oh, pray don’t mention such a little thing as that,” said the coachman, with a smile, as he took the fourth bag. Then the peanut man hurried on across the street, and the coachman drove the Trippertrot children on a little farther.

Pretty soon, after a while the coachman turned around, and, looking into the back part of the big carriage, where the children were, he asked them:

“And now, my little dears, where would you like me to be driving? I mean where is your home? for I want to get the horses back in the stable pretty soon. Where do you live?”

“Why, don’t you know?” asked Mary in wonder.

“Not a bit of it,” answered the coachman, and he was so surprised that he stopped eating peanuts.

“He--doesn’t--know--where--we--live!” cried Tommy and Johnny together, and they, too, were so surprised that they stopped eating peanuts. And then Mary stopped, too.

“How should I know where you live?” asked the coachman. “The master just told me to take you home, and I thought you knew where it was.”

“But we don’t,” said Mary gently. “You see, we are the Trippertrots, and we are always tripping and trotting off somewhere, and getting lost. That’s what we did this time. But I should have thought the man, whose boy owns the big dog we found, would have told you where to take us.”

“Well, he didn’t,” said the coachman. “But I’ll tell you what I’ll do.”

“What is it?” asked Tommy and Johnny and Mary, all at once.

“I’ll drive all around, up one street and down the other, and maybe you will see your house,” said the coachman. “Please keep a sharp lookout.”

“Oh, that’s just the way the banana man did, the time we rode in the hay on his cart,” said Johnny.

“Yes, we got home then all right,” said Mary, “and I think we will this time. Go on, Mr. Coachman, if you please, and we will tell you when we come to our house, so you can stop and let us out.”

“Bless their dear little innocent hearts!” exclaimed the coachman--and he spoke to the horses to make them go faster--“I never saw such children in all the days of my life. Not to know where they live! Ah, well, sure the little fairies will watch over ’em, and me, too, I hope, and I’ll get them safely home if I can.”

So he drove on and on, through street after street, but he couldn’t seem to find the Trippertrot house, and, though the children looked out of the carriage windows, and ate their peanuts, they couldn’t see their house, either.

And then, all of a sudden, as Mary was looking at the nice horses, and wondering if they would ever get home again--all at once, I say--she saw a poor little ragged boy standing on the street corner, and he was crying.

“Oh, Tommy and Johnny! Look there!” exclaimed Mary. “That little boy is crying. Something must be the matter.”

“I guess there is,” said Johnny. “We ought to help him.”

“We will!” exclaimed Tommy. “Oh, Mr. Coachman, stop, if you please!” he called out of the front window of the carriage.

“Why, what is the matter?” asked the coachman. “Have you found your house?”

“Not yet,” answered Mary, “but we have found a poor little boy, and we want to see what is the matter with him.”

So the coachman stopped the horses, and out jumped Tommy. He went right up to the poor little crying boy, and asked:

“What is the matter? Are you hurt?”

“No, I am lost,” said the poor little boy, and he cried harder than ever.

“My! My!” exclaimed Tommy, in his jolly little voice. “That is nothing. We are lost, too, and we don’t mind it a bit. We are always getting lost. But the coachman is taking us home, and I know he’ll take you home also. Get in the carriage.”

So the poor little ragged boy started to get into the carriage. The coachman saw him and cried out:

“I say now, where are you going?”

“He is coming with us,” answered Mary. “He is lost; and will you please take him home, too?”

“Oh! Oh!” cried the coachman. “This is the worst I ever heard! Here are you children who don’t know where your own home is and you’re trying to find a home for another lost boy. Oh, dear! This is terrible! Terrible!”

“But I _do_ know where my home is,” said the poor little boy, “only it got away from me somehow or other. I know what street it’s on.”

“Do you, indeed?” cried the coachman. “Then that’s more than the Trippertrots know. Whisper now, and tell me where is your home, and I’ll take you to it as fast as the horses can trot. And then, maybe, we’ll have good luck, and find out where these children live.”

So the little boy, who had stopped crying now, told the name of his street and the number of his house. I forget where it was, but that doesn’t matter.

“Oh, joy! Now I know where I’m going,” said the coachman, and the horses started up. Inside the coach the three Trippertrots were eating peanuts, and, of course, they gave the little boy some, and he liked them very much.

And then, all of a sudden, the little boy cried:

“Oh, there’s my house!”

“Are you sure?” asked the coachman. But the little boy didn’t have to answer, for just then out ran a lady.

“Oh, Teddy!” she cried, when she saw the poor little boy. “I thought I would never see you again! Where have you been?” and she took him in her arms.

“I’ve been lost, mamma,” he said, “and these nice children brought me home.”

“And where do you live?” asked the lady.

“That’s the trouble,” said Mary sadly. “Everyone seems to have a home but us.”

And now I’m coming to the strange part of this adventure. Just as Mary said that, along the street came a man with a long, white beard, and as soon as Johnny saw him he cried out:

“Oh, there is the nice old fisherman! You’ll take us home, won’t you?”

“Yes, please do,” said Tommy.

“We wish it so very much,” added Mary. “Won’t you, please?”

“To be sure I will,” said the old fisherman, and there he stood, the same one who had fished up the rubber boots and the raincoat and the umbrella, and who had taken the children to the house of the false-face man. “I’ll take you home,” he said. So he got into the carriage with the Trippertrots, and away they went.

ADVENTURE NUMBER TWENTY

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE LITTLE GIRL

“And where have you been since I saw you last?” asked the fisherman of Mary, as she and her brothers sat on the coach cushions eating peanuts.

“Oh, we have been getting lost nearly every day,” she replied. “Haven’t we, boys?”

“Yes, indeed,” answered Tommy and Johnny together. “This time it was a nice big dog that made us get lost,” added Tommy.

“And on other times it was a pink cow, or the dancing bears,” added Johnny.

“My! You children certainly have strange adventures,” said the old fisherman, with a jolly laugh. “But I think they will soon be over to-day, as we will be home in a little while.”

“Tell me,” said the coachman, as he turned around to speak to the old fisherman, “do you know where these children live? For they don’t themselves, and I never saw nor heard of such a thing in all the born days of my life. Do you know where they live?”

“Oh, yes,” said the old fisherman.

“Thank goodness for that!” exclaimed the coachman. “Get up, horses, we will soon have them home, and then we can go home ourselves, and I’ll give you your suppers. Not that I want to be impolite,” the coachman said quickly, “but you must see that it is a strange thing to be driving around with children who don’t know where they live.”

“It _is_ queer,” admitted Mary, as she ate the last of her peanuts.

“The next time we get lost,” said Tommy, “we’ll tie a string to our house and take the cord with us, and when we want to go back, all we’ll have to do will be to follow the string.”

“That’s a good idea,” said the old fisherman, and then he told the coachman where to drive, so as to get to the Trippertrot house as soon as possible.

“Have you caught any more queer fish?” asked Tommy, as they drove along, for he could not help thinking of the rubber boots, and the umbrella, that the fisherman had pulled up on the hammock-hook out of the little lake.

“No, I haven’t been fishing since then,” said the old gentleman. “But I have my hammock-hook now, and, if the driver will lend me one of the lines, I’ll fish right here, out of the carriage window.”

“Why, you can’t catch anything by fishing out of a carriage window,” said Mary politely.

“How do you know?” inquired the old fisherman, with a smile. “Did you ever try it?”

“No,” said Mary, “I never have.”

“Then you can’t tell!” exclaimed the fisherman. “Why, I have caught fish in the queerest places you ever heard of, and then again, I’ve gone fishing in places where I was sure there were fish, and I never got a bite--except a mosquito bite. So you never can tell.

“Why, once I was in the market, getting something to eat, and I happened to drop my umbrella, that had a crooked handle. And when I picked it up, there was a fish fast to it. What do you think of that?”

“Oh, well, yes, of course!” exclaimed Johnny. “There are fish in a market, for people want to buy them. I believe _that_ all right.”

“So do I,” said Tommy.

“But listen to this,” said the old fisherman. “Once I was in a lady’s house, and I went in the parlor, and there was a glass jar there on the table. I put my finger in the jar and a fish bit me. What do you think of that?”

“Oh, yes, but,” said Mary, “they were goldfish, in water, in the jar. I have often seen goldfish in a parlor.”

“Then,” said the old fisherman, “if there are goldfish in a parlor and other fish in the meat market, how can you tell but what there may be fish in this carriage? I’m going to try, anyhow, for I haven’t fished in some time. Please, Mr. Coachman, lend me a piece of the horse lines.”

So the coachman did this, and the old fisherman fastened the line on his hammock-hook, and then he sat on the seat, and let the hook dangle on the floor.

Every once in a while the old fisherman would pull up the horse line, with the hammock-hook on it, and he would look carefully at it. But each time there was nothing on, and the fisherman was much disappointed.

“I’m afraid you will never get any fish in here,” said Mary, after a while.

“No, indeed!” exclaimed Tommy. “For we have been riding in here for some time, and if there were any fish we would know it.”

“Besides,” added Johnny, “there isn’t any water here, or else our feet would be wet, and fish can’t live without water.”

“I believe you’re right!” exclaimed the old fisherman. “I never thought of that. I have made a mistake. I should have put my hook out of the back window of the carriage. I’ll do it now,” and he did so at once, and then he sat very quietly, waiting for a bite, while the coachman drove on to the Trippertrot house.

All at once the old fisherman cried out:

“I have a bite! I have a bite!”

“Is it a mosquito bite?” asked Mary quickly. “Because if it is you must put witch hazel on it.”

“No, it is a fish bite,” said the old gentleman.

“On your finger?” asked Tommy.

“No, on the hammock-hook,” said the old gentleman, and then he pulled in the horse-fish-line, and there, on the hammock-hook, was a tall silk hat, such as doctors sometimes wear.

“Oh, what a funny catch!” exclaimed Mary.

“Isn’t it, though!” agreed the fisherman. “I don’t know when I ever caught a silk hat before.”

He was just taking the hat off the hook, and looking at it to see if there were any holes in it, when all at once the coach stopped and the coachman said:

“If you please, sir, there is trouble out here.”

“What sort of trouble?” asked the old fisherman.

“Why, there is a gentleman here, sir, without any hat, and he says, sir, that it’s in my coach.”

“I shouldn’t wonder but what he was right,” spoke the queer fisherman. “I think _I_ have his hat.”

“Ha! What do you mean by taking off my hat?” asked a voice, and there, at the coach window, stood a little man, with a very red face. “Where is my hat?” he cried.

“Here it is,” answered the fisherman. “I beg your pardon. You see when I fish I never can tell what I am going to catch. I hope I haven’t bothered you.”

“Well, if I don’t catch cold I won’t mind,” said the little man with the red face. And he took the hat from the fisherman, put it on his head, and hurried off.

Then the coachman drove his horses on some more, and the queer old fisherman dangled his hammock-hook out of the back carriage window again.

“I wonder what we shall catch this time?” he said to the children, with a jolly laugh.

“Oh, maybe you’ll catch a chocolate cake,” said Tommy.

“Or an orange pudding,” added Mary.

“Or a dish of ice cream,” said Johnny.

“Well, it might happen,” spoke the fisherman. “Hello! I have something, anyhow,” he cried, as he pulled in the hook and line.

And what do you suppose was dangling on the end of it?

Why, a lady’s bonnet, of course! Yes, a real lady’s bonnet, all covered with flowers, and lace, and ribbons, and things like that. I mean the bonnet was covered with those things--not the lady, you understand.

“Why--why!” exclaimed the fisherman, with a pleased laugh. “I don’t know when I have caught a lady’s bonnet before. I am having very good luck to-day.”

Then, just as he was taking the bonnet off the hook, the coachman stopped the horses and said:

“If you please, sir, there is more trouble out here!”

“What sort of trouble?” asked the fisherman.

“Why, there is a lady here, sir, that says you have her new bonnet.”

“I shouldn’t wonder,” spoke the fisherman. “This must be it. It got caught on my hook by mistake.”

“Oh, I hope it’s not torn!” cried the lady, as she looked in at the coach window.

“Not in the least,” said the fisherman politely, as he gave the bonnet to her.

And on they went again.

“I must be careful what I catch next time,” said the fisherman, as he once more put the hammock-hook out of the back window of the coach. In a minute he pulled it in again, and this time there was a loaf of bread on it, all wrapped up in paper, and tied with a pink string. And no sooner had the bread been pulled in, than there was a crying sound out in the street, and a voice said:

“Oh, my bread! Some one has taken my loaf of bread, and I haven’t any money to buy any more! Oh, dear!”

“Bless me!” cried the old fisherman. “I wouldn’t have taken any one’s loaf of bread for the world.”

Then he looked out of the coach window, and he saw a poor little girl crying real, salty tears.

“Oh, my! don’t cry,” said the kind fisherman. “Are you lost, too?”

“No, but I was coming home from the store, with a loaf of bread,” said the poor little girl, “and all at once I--I didn’t have it.”

“Ah, here it is,” said the old fisherman kindly, and he handed it to her out of the coach window. Well, you just should have seen how wide open the little girl’s eyes were.

“Are--are you one of the magicians that makes rabbits come out of a hat?” the poor little girl asked.

“Oh, yes. I can do those tricks sometimes,” said the old fisherman. “I just caught your bread by mistake.”

“Oh, will you do some tricks?” cried Mary and Johnny and Tommy, all together.

“Not now, some other day,” said the old fisherman. “Get up in the carriage, little girl, and we will take you home.”

So the poor little girl got up in the carriage, and as she knew where her home was, the coachman soon drove her there, and the old fisherman gave her ten cents.

“And now for the Trippertrot house!” cried the old fisherman, as they started off again. “We’ll soon be there.”

“And very glad I’ll be of it!” said the coachman, “for such queer goings on I never saw before in all the born days of my life. Fishing out of a coach! The idea!”

All of a sudden, as the children and the old fisherman were riding along, a policeman, who was on a horse, galloped up to the coach, and holding up his hand to stop it, cried out:

“Is the old fisherman in there?”

“Of course I am,” replied the fisherman. “What is the matter?”

“You are wanted at once,” spoke the policeman. “Down at the bird and animal store. The big glass globe, where the goldfish swim, was upset by a puppy dog wagging his tail, and the fish are all flopping over the floor. The man who owns them wants you to come and help him catch them.”

“Of course, I’ll go at once,” said the kind old fisherman. “It will be fun for the children to watch me catch the fish.”

“No, the Trippertrot children must stay here,” said the policeman. “I forgot to tell you that a snake also got loose when the fish fell out of the globe, and we wouldn’t want the children to be bitten by the snake.”

“No, indeed, we don’t want to be, either,” spoke Mary. “But what is to become of us? Who will take care of us? How will we ever get home?”

“Oh, I will look after you,” said the policeman. “Here, I will wrap you up in my nice coat,” he went on, taking off the coat that he wore.

“But where will we stay?” asked Tommy.

“Yes, we must stay somewhere, until the coach and the old fisherman come back for us,” went on Johnny.

“Ha! I have it! The very thing!” cried the policeman, as he saw a man going past carrying a big rocking-chair on his head. “Let me take that chair for the Trippertrot children to sit in until this coach comes back,” the policeman said to the man, and the man did it at once.

So the policeman wrapped the three children in his coat, and set them in the big rocking-chair, close to a street lamp-post, so the coachman could easily find them again when he came back.

“I’ll just write your names and addresses on a card, and tie it to the chair,” said the policeman. “Then there will be no trouble about you getting home again.” So he did that, for he knew where the Trippertrots lived, though he didn’t have time to take them home himself.

Then the policeman rode away on his horse, and the fisherman drove off in the coach to catch the goldfish, and the children were left sitting in the rocking-chair on the street, beside the lamp-post.

And they didn’t mind it a bit, not even when it began to rain all of a sudden, for they were very snug in the coat.

Well, it rained and it rained, and pretty soon the children were so nice and cozy and warm that they went to sleep. And then, who should come along but an expressman, driving his wagon, and the wagon was painted red.

“Whoa!” called the expressman to his horse, as he saw the rocking-chair by the lamp-post. “I must see what this is. Maybe it dropped off some one’s wagon.”

So he went up to the rocking-chair, and my goodness me sakes alive and a spoonful of mustard! Wasn’t he surprised when he opened the big coat, and saw Mary and Tommy and Johnny sleeping inside it.

“Why, this is very strange!” said the expressman. “I wonder who could have left three little children out in the rain like this?” Then he looked at his wagon to see if he would have room for them inside it. And he thought he had.

“My! My! My sakes alive and some Thanksgiving turkey!” cried the expressman. “I never heard of such a thing in all my born days and nights! I am certainly surprised!”

“Heard of what? What is the matter?” cried Tommy, who suddenly awakened, and looked up at the expressman. “What is it that you are surprised at? Is it a surprise party?”

“No, indeed,” replied the expressman. “But I am surprised that any one would leave you here in the storm like this.”

“The policeman did,” explained Mary, “but he wrapped us up in his big coat. We were with the old fisherman, but he had to go away to catch the goldfish that spilled all over the floor. I guess he is coming back for us.”

“But if he doesn’t, what are we to do?” asked Johnny. “I wish some one could take us home now.”

“Perhaps this nice expressman can take us home,” suggested Tommy, for he could see the expressman’s wagon standing there.

“Of course, I could take you home, if I knew where you lived,” said the expressman.

“It’s written on a tag tied to the chair,” said Mary, in her most polite voice.

“What is?” asked the expressman. “What is written there?”

“The address where we live,” went on the little Trippertrot girl. “Do you think you can find our house?”

“Of course I can,” answered the expressman. “I’ll soon have you home. You’ll be all right now, and I’ll pull the canvas sides down on my wagon, and you’ll be as nice and snug as you can be, even though it rains all the while, for my express wagon has a top on it. And later on I’ll tell the policeman and the fisherman that I took you away. Then they won’t worry.”

So he picked up the chair and the children, both at the same time, still wrapped in the coat as they were, and the expressman put them, chair and all, into his big wagon. Then, having looked at the address on the tag, which told on which street the Trippertrot family lived, and the number of the house, the expressman whistled a funny, jolly little tune to his horse, and away he galloped through the storm, up one street and down another.

And, oh! how nice, and warm, and cozy it was for the Trippertrot children in the express wagon. The canvas sides kept out the wind and the rain, and none of the drops could get in the top, for there was a roof over the wagon. It was so warm in there (for there was a nice lantern all lighted and burning, as it was getting dark)--it was so warm, I say--that the children didn’t need the coat around them any more.

“Let’s get out of the chair, and see the different things that are in the wagon,” suggested Mary, after a while.

“Oh, yes, let’s,” agreed Johnny. “We have never ridden in an express wagon before. This is a new adventure.”

So they laid aside the coat, and crawled out of the big rocking-chair. They saw lots of boxes and packages in the wagon, and they wondered what they contained, but they were too polite to ask. In fact, the expressman was too busy to answer them, for the storm was quite bad now, and he had all he could do to drive his horse through it. But it was fun for the children in the wagon, as they were warm, and they could see very well by the light of the lantern.

All of a sudden, in one corner of the wagon they heard a noise that sounded like:

“Cut! Cut! Cut-ka-dah-cut!”

“What’s that?” cried Johnny.

“That’s a chicken,” answered Tommy.

“What, in this wagon?” asked Mary.

“It sounded so,” went on Tommy. “Let’s look around and find it.”

So the children began looking in and around the different boxes and packages, until, all of a sudden, Mary saw a little box, with slats nailed across the front, like a small chicken-coop, and inside was a dear, little red hen.

“Cut! Cut! Cut-ka-dah-cut!” called the red hen.

“Oh, you little dear!” exclaimed Mary. “I wish I had you for my own.”

“Maybe it is coming to our house for a present to us,” suggested Tommy.

“See if there’s a tag on it, like on our rocking-chair, to tell where the expressman is to leave it,” said Johnny.

“No, there isn’t any,” said Mary, after she had looked.

“Cut! Cut! Cut-ka-dah-cut!” cried the red hen again, just as if she was trying to tell where she belonged.

“Has she laid any eggs?” asked Tommy.

“I don’t see any,” spoke Mary, as she looked inside the little chicken-coop. “But maybe she will, if we wait a little longer.”

So the three Trippertrot children sat down on the floor of the express wagon, and watched the little red hen, as she scratched around in the coop, but she didn’t seem to be laying any eggs. And all this while the expressman was driving through the rain toward the place where Tommy and Mary and Johnny lived.

And then, all of a sudden, there was a noise in another corner of the wagon, and when the children looked there they saw a dear, little white bunny-rabbit in a cage.

“Oh, if we could only have that!” exclaimed Tommy, in delight.

“Has it got a tag on it, to say that it is coming to our house?” asked Johnny eagerly.

“No,” replied his sister Mary. “It’s just like the coop of the little red hen--no tag on it.”

And then there was a queer little chattering sort of a noise in another corner of the express wagon, and when the children ran over there, they saw a squirrel, with a big, bushy tail, in a wire cage, and there was no tag on his cage to tell where he belonged.