Chapter II: Part 2

“Oh, my darlings!” cried their mamma, waving her hand to them. “I thought I should never see you again! However did you get up there?”

“We got lost this morning, chasing after the fairy mouse,” said Mary, “and the balloon man sold Jiggily Jig, the funny boy, these balloons, and they took us up, and the turkey showed us which was our house, so we’re home again.”

“I’m glad of it!” said their papa. “But why don’t you come down?”

“We can’t, the balloons hold us up,” said Johnny, and he and Tommy tried to pull themselves down, but they couldn’t, because the balloons were so strong.

“You must get a ladder and reach it up to us, and then we can let go of the balloons, and walk down,” said Mary.

So Mr. Trippertrot was hurrying away to get the ladder when Suzette, the maid, said:

“Oh, I know a better way than that. If Miss Mary has a pin she can just make a little pin-hole in her balloon and also in Master Johnny’s and Tommy’s, and let out a little of the gas from the green balloons, and then the children will float safely down.”

“That is a good way,” said Mr. Trippertrot, so he called to Mary to do that. Very carefully she made little holes in the three balloons, and, in another minute, the Trippertrot children were safely down on the balcony over the front porch of their house, and their papa and mamma were hugging and kissing them.

“And you must never go away again,” said their mamma.

“We won’t,” said Mary.

“Is the Thanksgiving dinner ready?” asked Tommy.

“For we are very hungry,” spoke Johnny.

“It is nearly ready,” said Suzette.

And then, pretty soon, the Trippertrot family sat down to a fine Thanksgiving dinner. There was turkey and cranberry sauce, and oysters, and celery, and nuts, and cake, and oranges, and figs, and cookies, and oh! ever so many things. I can’t remember half of them.

But the Trippertrots were careful not to eat too much, as that isn’t proper, and, besides, it makes you ill. So they ate just enough, and they had a fine time afterward playing many kinds of games.

And then--oh, well, I guess you had better look at the next story, to see what happened afterward.

ADVENTURE NUMBER FIVE

THE TRIPPERTROTS IN A GROCERY WAGON

“Well, what game shall we play now?” asked Mary Trippertrot, of her brothers Johnny and Tommy, when they had finished playing the one called “Please Don’t Step on My Toes.” It was a game Mary made up herself, and was very nice.

“Oh, I don’t know,” answered Tommy. “Suppose we play ‘Hide the Knitting Needle’?”

“That’s no fun!” exclaimed Johnny. “Besides, some of us might get stuck by the needle.”

“That’s so,” agreed Mary. “But what can we do?”

“Oh, I know!” cried Tommy. “We’ll play that nice old game of looking out of the window and choosing things. We’ll let Mary have first choice, and maybe she can get an automobile.”

“Oh, goodie!” exclaimed the little Trippertrot girl. “Then we can go for a ride in it.”

“Oh, but mamma said we weren’t to go out of the house, unless something special, extra-extraordinary happened,” spoke Tommy, “so we couldn’t go out in your auto, Mary, even if you are lucky enough to get one.”

“But I only meant to take a _make-believe_ ride in a _make-believe_ auto,” explained the little girl. “Wouldn’t that be all right?”

“I guess it would,” said Johnny. “Anyhow, let’s go to the window, look out, and see what things we can choose.”

So that is how the three little Trippertrots happened to be looking out of the window. And, as truly as I’m telling you, the first thing that came along was a great big red automobile, with large, fat wheels, like sausages, and Mary cried:

“Oh, that’s mine! That’s mine!”

“Yes,” said Tommy, “and now let’s go for a make-believe ride in it.”

“Oh, but first let’s you and I choose something,” said Johnny to his brother.

“There comes a horse and carriage,” said Tommy. “I’m going to choose that for mine.”

“But you can’t take that in my auto,” said Mary. “It’s far too big.”

“So it is,” agreed Tommy. “Wait a minute, there comes a messenger boy with a box of candy. I’ll choose that.”

“Which, the boy or the candy?” asked Johnny.

“The candy, of course!” exclaimed Tommy, with a laugh. “There might not be room in the auto for the boy.”

“Well, you’d better be quick about what you’re going to choose, Johnny!” called Mary, “for my red auto is moving along pretty fast, and it may be out of our block before we get our ride in it. Hurry up, Johnny.”

“Well, I’ll choose that fruit-stand across the street,” spoke Johnny.

“That’s nice,” said Mary. “We shan’t be hungry on our trip, anyhow, with Tommy’s box of candy, and Johnny’s fruit-stand. Come on, now, get in my auto.”

So the boys made-believe help their sister into the make-believe auto, and they closed the doors and turned on the gasolene, and away they went as fast as anything, if you will kindly believe me. Only, of course, it was only make-believe, pretend riding, you know.

They went to New York, and a place called Osh-Kosh, and to Mumbly-Bumbly and to Kalamazoo and even part way to the moon, but, of course, all this while they were really only in the front room of their house, peeping out of the window.

And then, all of a sudden, Mary looked, and she saw a grocery wagon on the street, out in front, and the horse hitched to the wagon was walking slowly along, and there was no one driving him.

“Look at that!” cried Mary. “That horse is running away.”

“I guess you mean he’s _walking_ away,” said Johnny. “He isn’t running.”

“Well, he’s going away, anyhow,” insisted Mary, “and the driver isn’t there and the horse may bunk the wagon into something, and smash it, and then the grocery man would lose a lot of money.”

“Well, what can we do about it?” asked Tommy.

“We might go out, and stop the horse from going away,” continued Mary, “and then we could telephone to the man who owns it, to come and get it from in front of our house.”

Johnny looked all around the room. So did Tommy. Their papa and mamma weren’t there. Neither was the nursemaid.

“Do you think going out to stop the horse would be a special, extra-extraordinary occasion?” asked Tommy, of Mary.

“Oh, yes,” she said, “I do. And I think if mamma was here she’d want us to go out of the house to catch the walk-away grocery wagon and horse.”

“Then we’ll do it,” decided Tommy. “Come on, Mary and Johnny!”

So out of the house the three little Trippertrots went after the grocery wagon, and they never stopped to think that they might get lost again. They wanted to do a kind act, you see, and I think it was very nice of them; don’t you?

They ran after the walk-away horse, that was now some distance down the street, and soon the Trippertrots had caught up to him.

“Whoa, horsie!” called Tommy.

“Yes, you must stop,” added Johnny, most politely.

“Because it’s wrong to run away, or even walk away,” said Mary. “We came to catch you, so your master can find you. Otherwise, you might get lost, you know.”

“Horses can’t get lost!” declared Tommy.

“They might, when they were little girl or boy horses,” said Mary. “I should think a little horse could get lost, the same as we do, lots of times. Whoa there, horsie!” she called, for the grocery horse was still walking away.

“Well, perhaps ponies can get lost,” admitted Tommy, and just then the grocery horse stood still, because the three Trippertrot children had run out right in front of him. I think it was very brave of them; don’t you?

The horse looked at the children, and the Trippertrots looked at the horse, and then Mary said:

“Now we ought to tie him to a post, so he can’t get away any farther, and then go telephone to the man. Otherwise, we might get lost ourselves.”

“But we don’t know who owns the horse,” said Tommy.

“Yes, there is his name on the side of the wagon,” said Johnny, and, surely enough, there was the grocery man’s name in big letters.

“What name do you think it is?” asked Mary, of her brothers.

“Oh, how funny of us!” exclaimed Tommy. “None of us can read, because we’re only in the kindergarten class, so we can’t tell what the name is on the wagon.”

“I can read!” cried Johnny. “I can read words like ‘cat’ and ‘dog.’”

“But I don’t think the grocery man’s name is either cat or dog,” spoke Mary.

“Then what are we going to do?” asked Johnny.

“We can tie the horse to a post,” said Mary, “and then we can go home and tell papa about it, and he can come and read the name for us.”

“That’s a good idea,” declared Tommy. “But what shall we use to tie the horse to a post? Have you a piece of string in your pocket, Johnny?”

“Yes,” answered his brother, “I have.”

“Oh, you silly boys!” exclaimed Mary. “They don’t tie horses with string. They use a leather strap. There must be one in the wagon. You boys climb in and look.”

So Tommy and Johnny climbed up on the wagon step, and crawled back over the seat, for the horse was kind and gentle, and stood very still, looking up at the sky now and then, to see if it would rain, I guess.

“I can’t find any strap!” called Johnny, after a while.

“Nor I,” added Tommy. “There are a lot of groceries in the wagon, but no strap.”

“Oh, I suppose I’ll have to look myself,” said Mary. So she climbed up into the wagon where her brothers were. She looked in among the boxes and baskets, and she had just found the strap, which was in among some oranges, when, all at once, a queer thing happened. The horse suddenly started to walk away again, pulling the wagon after him, and the Trippertrot children were in the wagon. So, of course, the horse pulled them, too.

“Oh!” cried Mary. “We’re having a ride!”

“That’s fine!” exclaimed Johnny.

“Oh, but we mustn’t!” shouted Tommy. “The horse is taking us away from home, and mamma told us not to go! We must stop him!”

“That’s so,” admitted his brother.

“Whoa there! Whoa! Whoa!” called Mary to the horse. But the horse wouldn’t stop, and kept on going, taking the Trippertrot children farther and farther down the street.

“Oh, what shall we do?” asked Mary, of her brothers. “We will be lost again.”

“I guess we will,” spoke Johnny, but he didn’t seem to mind it very much.

“Can’t you pull on the lines and make the horse stop?” asked Tommy.

“The lines are too far out,” answered Johnny. “I might fall if I reached for them.”

“Then call to some one--a policeman or anybody--and ask him to please stop the horse,” suggested Mary. “Oh, boys! this time it isn’t our fault that we’re running away; is it?”

“No, indeed,” answered Tommy. “But the horse isn’t running, he is only walking. Maybe he’ll stop soon.”

“He’s running now,” suddenly exclaimed Johnny, and, surely enough, the horse began to go faster and faster, giving the Trippertrots a nice ride, but still taking them farther and farther away from home.

“Oh, we’re lost again!” cried Mary, as she and her brothers sat down in the back of the wagon, in among the boxes and baskets of groceries. “I wonder where we will end up?”

But none of the children seemed to know, so they just sat there in the wagon.

ADVENTURE NUMBER SIX

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE POOR FAMILY

“Where do you suppose this horse is going?” asked Mary, of her brothers, after a while.

“Home, I guess,” said Tommy.

“Do you mean to his home, or our home?” asked Johnny. “Because, if he goes to our home, it’s all right, but if the horse goes to his own home, why--why----”

“We’ll be lost again, that’s all,” said Tommy, simply.

“Oh, we’re lost now,” cried Mary, as she looked out of the front of the wagon. “We’re on a strange street, that I never saw before, and I don’t know how far from home.”

“Well, we’ll get back some time,” said Johnny, “so we don’t need to worry about it. We always do get home, somehow or other, and perhaps we’ll have another funny adventure, like being carried up into the air by the balloons.”

“Oh, I wish we would!” exclaimed Tommy. “Anyhow, I’m hungry, and if an adventure is going to happen I wish it would be one with something to eat in it.”

“What! You don’t mean to say you are hungry so soon after our big Thanksgiving-turkey-dinner, do you?” asked Mary Trippertrot.

“Yes, I--I guess I am,” said Tommy.

“And so am I!” exclaimed Johnny. “But I know where I can get something to eat.”

“Where? Oh, tell me where!” cried Tommy, eagerly.

“Right in this wagon,” said Johnny. “It’s full of groceries, and we can eat some of them. There are oranges, and I saw some nuts, and some candy, and some crackers, and cheese and--and--oh, there is plenty to eat.”

“But it isn’t ours,” objected Mary, quickly, “and we mustn’t take what isn’t ours.”

“No, that’s so,” said Johnny, sadly.

“Oh, I know how we can fix it,” spoke Tommy. “We can take what we want--not too much, of course--and we can keep account of it, and when we find the man who owns the grocery wagon we can ask papa to pay him for what we took. I’m sure he will.”

“Yes, I guess he will,” agreed Johnny.

“Besides,” added Mary, “the grocery man might give us some pennies for stopping his horse from running away, and we could pay him back with those.”

“Yes, only but we’re _not_ stopping his horse from running away,” said Tommy, “for he _is_ running as fast as he can.”

And the horse was, but he was on a smooth asphalt street, and the wagon went so easily that the children didn’t notice how very fast they were going.

“I wonder if he wouldn’t stop if I asked him please to?” spoke Mary, as she leaned over the seat.

“You might try,” suggested Johnny.

So Mary did.

“Oh, please, nice horsie, won’t you kindly stop running away with us?” she asked, in her gentle voice. “We don’t want to get so far away from home, and it will soon be dark. Please stop.”

But the horse only wiggled his ears backwards and forwards, switched his tail to and fro, and kept on going.

“It’s no use!” exclaimed Tommy. “He won’t stop, and I’m going to eat.”

“So am I!” added Johnny.

“Then I suppose I may as well, also,” said Mary. “But we must remember all that we take, so papa can pay the grocery man, or we can pay him, if he gives us any pennies.”

So the children each took an orange, out of a basket that had a great many in it, and they took some nuts, and a little candy, and some grapes, and then Mary opened a big package and she cried out:

“Oh, boys! Look here!”

“What is it?” asked Johnny. “Is Jiggily Jig there?”

“No, but see! It’s a fine big turkey, all ready to put in the oven,” said Mary.

“And look at the stalks of celery!” shouted Johnny, as he opened another package.

“And see the bunches of white grapes!” exclaimed Tommy.

“Boys,” said Mary, solemnly, “I see what this is.”

“What is it?” asked Johnny.

“It is Somebody’s Thanksgiving dinner,” said Mary. “That is just what it is. And, oh, I wonder whose it is? The horse is running away with us, and with the dinner, and I suppose some one is hungry for it.”

“Well, I’m not hungry--not now,” remarked Johnny, as he ate another orange.

“Nor I,” added Tommy, as he cracked some more nuts. “But I was a while ago.”

“I’m not hungry, either,” said Mary; “but, boys, I just wish we could find the family that needed this dinner.”

“Let’s look out along the street, and maybe we’ll see some one who is hungry,” suggested Tommy. So they looked out, but they didn’t see any one, not even a policeman. For it was still Thanksgiving Day, you remember, and I suppose all the people were still in their houses, perhaps sleeping after their dinners, or maybe they were at the football game, or the theatre. Anyhow, there wasn’t a soul to be seen.

“We can’t ask any one,” said Mary, with a sigh. “There’s no one to ask.”

“Well, perhaps the horse knows where the dinner belongs, and he’ll go there,” spoke Johnny. “He looked to me like a very smart horse.”

“And, maybe after he takes the dinner where it belongs, he’ll take us back home,” went on Tommy.

“Oh, that would be lovely if he would,” exclaimed Mary.

So the children sat in the back of the grocery wagon, with the boxes and baskets, and the horse kept going faster and faster on the asphalt street, and the Trippertrots didn’t know where they would get to finally, when, all at once, the horse turned off the asphalt, and began pulling the wagon over the cobblestones.

Rattlety-bang! Rattlety-bang! it went, and the children were all shaken up, and then, all at once, the horse stopped.

“Well, we’re somewhere!” exclaimed Mary. “I’m glad of it.”

“Yes, but I wonder where we are?” spoke Tommy.

“Can it be our house?” asked Johnny.

“No, there are no cobblestones in front of our house,” replied Mary, quickly.

Johnny looked out of the front of the wagon. He saw a little house, not very nice looking, for it was rather ragged, as if it needed a new suit of clothes, and the chimney was almost falling off the roof, and the fence in front was full of holes, and, altogether, it was a very pretty sort of a house indeed.

“What is there?” asked Mary, of her brother.

“This is the place where the Thanksgiving dinner belongs, I guess,” said Johnny. “The horse stopped here of his own accord, so it must be the place.”

“Then, as long as the grocery boy isn’t here, we had better carry the things in,” suggested Tommy. “We can make-believe we are the grocery boys.”

“I can’t be a boy,” said Mary.

“No, you’ll have to be a grocery girl,” spoke Tommy. “But that will be all right. I’ll take the turkey, ’cause I’m the strongest.”

“I wish Jiggily Jig, or Simple Simon, or the nice newsboy was here to help us,” spoke Johnny.

“Oh, we can do it all right,” said his brother. And then, while the kind horse stood very still, the three Trippertrots took the Thanksgiving things out of the wagon, and marched up to the shabby-looking house with them. Tommy put the big turkey down on the step, and knocked at the door.

A poor-looking woman opened it, and behind her the Trippertrots could see a whole lot of hungry-looking children. Oh! how very hungry they were!

“Well, what is it, please?” asked the woman, as she looked at Tommy and Johnny and Mary Trippertrot.

“If--if you please,” spoke Tommy, as he lifted up the big turkey to her, “here is your Thanksgiving dinner.”

“My Thanksgiving dinner!” exclaimed the woman, and a few teardrops came into her eyes, while Mary could hear the hungry children, who were standing behind her, sort of gasping, and making their tongues go around inside their mouths. “My Thanksgiving dinner!” said the woman again. “Bless your dear little heart, I’m not going to have any Thanksgiving dinner. We--we’re too poor!” she said. “There must be some mistake. You are at the wrong house. Thanksgiving dinner! Why--why, I haven’t had a real Thanksgiving dinner since I was a little girl,” and she turned around to look at her poor little children standing behind her.

“Well, you’re going to have one now,” said Mary Trippertrot. “This is yours.”

“No, no!” exclaimed the woman. “You are at the wrong house.”

“It _can’t_ be the wrong house!” cried Johnny. “The grocery horse stopped here himself, and I guess he knows where the dinner belongs. Let’s take it in, Tommy and Mary.”

So into the house went the Trippertrots, carrying the Thanksgiving dinner. Oh, what a dinner it was! There were oranges, and apples, and nuts, and candy, and white grapes, and bread, and butter, and potatoes, and the big turkey, of course; and celery, and cranberries, and some cookies and cakes, and, oh! I couldn’t tell you what else there was! The table was piled quite full.

“Are you sure it’s for us?” asked the poor woman. “I don’t think we ought to keep it.”

“Oh--oh, mamma!” cried one of the poor little girls--and there were about four boys and seven girls in that poor family--“oh, mamma--don’t--don’t--_please_ don’t send it away. We are _so_ hungry.”

“Humph!” exclaimed Johnny, as he looked out of the window, “you can’t send it away if you wanted to--not now.”

“Why not?” asked the woman.

“Because the grocery horse has run away again,” answered Johnny. “I guess he knew what he was doing when he left the dinner here, and now he’s gone back home. So you can’t send the dinner away. You’ve got to keep it.”

“Oh, bless your dear hearts, we will,” said the woman, and, oh! how happy those children were--the poor ones I mean. But, of course, the Trippertrots were happy, too, because they had done a kindness.

Then the poor woman began to cook the Thanksgiving dinner, and she put the turkey in the oven to roast nice and brown, and the Trippertrots were helping her when, all of a sudden, there came a loud knock on the door of the house where the poor family lived.

“Ha! I wonder who that can be?” asked the poor woman.

“I guess it’s our papa come for us,” said Johnny.

“Who are you, and where do you live?” asked the poor woman.

“We are the Trippertrots, but we don’t know where we live, if you please,” said Mary.

“Because we are lost--we are always getting lost,” added Tommy. “But perhaps some one has come for us.”

So the poor woman went to the door, and there stood a boy with a white apron on.

“Ah, I’ve found you at last!” he said, when he saw the Trippertrots. “I’m the grocery boy and I’ve been looking all over for you and the wagon.”

“We’re here, but the horse and wagon are gone,” replied Mary.

“Well, never mind,” said the grocery boy, as he waved his white apron. “Come with me, if you please.”

ADVENTURE NUMBER SEVEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE GROCERY BOY

“Well, aren’t you coming with me?” asked the grocery boy, as Tommy stood staring at him. As for Mary, she was looking in the oven, to see if the turkey was cooking, and it was turning the loveliest brown color you could imagine. And Johnny Trippertrot was playing spin tops with one of the boys of the poor family. So, you see, Tommy was the only one the grocery boy could look at, or talk to.

“Aren’t you children coming with me?” asked the grocery boy again, after a bit.

“Where do you want us to go?” inquired Tommy.

“Why, anywhere you’d like to go,” replied the grocery boy.

“Oh, then can you take us home?” begged Mary, eagerly, as she opened the oven door, and shut it again, and then the whole kitchen of the poor family was filled with the nicest cooking-smell--just like Christmas and Thanksgiving rolled into one, you know.

“Well, I guess I can take you home,” said the grocery boy. “But how did you get so far away, and are you lost, as usual?”

“Yes, we are lost, the same as we always are,” replied Johnny, as he gave the top to the poor boy to spin. “But we wouldn’t have been in this trouble only the horse first walked away with us and then he ran.”

“What horse?” asked the grocery boy.

“The horse that drew us here, with the Thanksgiving dinner,” said Johnny.

“It must have been your horse,” put in Mary. “You said you had been looking for one, and I think this was yours. And I hope we delivered the Thanksgiving dinner to the right place.”

“Oh, s’posin’ we haven’t!” gasped Johnny. “We’ll have to ask papa to pay for it for us.”

Then Mary told how they had looked out of the window of their home, and had seen the grocery horse walking away with no one on the seat to hold on to the lines, and how they had gotten in the wagon and been drawn along until they got to the house where the poor family lived.

“And,” said Mary, “we saw the Thanksgiving dinner in the wagon, and, as the horse stopped here, we thought it belonged in this house. But if we have make a mistake----”

“Oh, that would be terrible!” exclaimed Tommy.

“Indeed, it would!” said Johnny. And, at this thought, the poor children, who had been sniffing the smell of the roast turkey, and who had been looking at the nuts, and the cranberries, and the oysters, and oranges, and candy, and grapes, and celery, and other good things that the Trippertrot children had brought--at this thought, I say--fearing that their nice dinner might be taken away, the poor children nearly cried. And their mamma looked worried, too.

But you just wait and hear what the grocery boy said. He looked first at Mary, and then at Johnny, and then at Tommy.

“It was no mistake at all,” said the grocery boy, as he waved his white apron like a flag. “That dinner belonged just here, and here it stays. The grocery man I work for is very kind, and he put up a big Thanksgiving dinner, and told me to take it to some poor family. I started out with it, but I saw a poor little doggie, with a tin can tied to his tail.

“So I got out of my wagon to take off the can, and then my horse, that was fastened to the grocery wagon, started off. It must have been then that you children tried to stop him, and I’m much obliged to you. So you see, the horse knew just where to stop, and the Thanksgiving dinner stays right here.”

“Oh, I’m so glad!” cried the poor woman.

“And so are we,” said the poor children.

Then Mary Trippertrot looked in the oven again, and as soon as she opened the stove door out came that nice smell once more, and really it almost makes me hungry to tell you about it.

“Well, I guess it’s time we started away,” said the grocery boy, after a while.

“Oh, yes, you are going to take us home; aren’t you?” asked Mary, as she went up to him, and took hold of his hand, for he was a very nice, kind, gentle grocery boy, and whenever he delivered eggs, he never broke one, he was so careful.

“Yes, I’ll take you home,” he said to Mary and Johnny and Tommy. “Come along.”

“Oh, must you really go?” asked the poor woman. “I wish, after you have been so kind to us, that you could stay and have some of this lovely turkey dinner.”

“Yes, do stay!” cried all the poor children together, like a lot of twins, you know, only, of course, they weren’t.

“Oh, thank you,” said Mary, politely, “we have had our dinner, and really we must get back home before dark, or mamma and papa will worry about us. We shouldn’t have come out, only it was a special, extra-extraordinary occasion, like the time of the dancing bears, and the pink cow, otherwise we never would have come out.”

“Well, let’s start if we’re going to,” said Tommy. So they all said good-by to the poor family, and went out into the street, Mary holding the grocery boy’s right hand, and Tommy his left hand, and Johnny held hold of Mary’s other hand, so they all had hold of hands, you see.

“Now which way had we better go?” asked the grocery boy, when they stood out on the sidewalk.

“Oh, the shortest way,” said Mary. “We want to get home as soon as we can.”

“Well, I think that would be a good plan,” spoke the grocery boy, “so if you will show me the shortest way to your house, we’ll take it.”

“Why, don’t you know the shortest way?” asked Mary.

“No,” answered the grocery boy, “I can’t say that I do. You see, I haven’t lived in this part of the city very long, and I don’t know my way about very well. So you can easily see that I don’t know the shortest way to your house.”

“Well, then, I suppose we will have to go the longest way home,” said Tommy.

“It won’t matter so much,” went on his brother. “For if we go the longest way we may meet with an adventure, and we might not if we went the short way.”

“Oh, that would be fine!” exclaimed Mary. “Yes, grocery boy, please take us home the longest way.”

The grocery boy took off his cap, and scratched first his nose, and then his left ear. Then he waved his white apron like a flag, and he seemed to be thinking very deeply, just as some children do when they have to spell a hard word in school.

“Well, to tell you the truth, as I always do,” said the grocery boy, “I don’t believe I even know which is the longest way to your house, to say nothing of the shortest way.”

“That’s queer,” spoke Tommy. “What can we do?”

“Oh, I have it!” suddenly cried Mary. “He can take us home the middle way. Don’t you remember the story of the three bears? The little bear couldn’t sleep in the big bed, and the big bear couldn’t sleep in the little bed, but the middle-sized bear could sleep in the middle-sized bed, and so we can go home the middle way, if we can’t find the short or long way.”

“Oh, fine!” exclaimed Tommy and Johnny together.

“How is that, grocery boy?” asked Mary, as she took a tighter hold of his hand.

“It would be very nice, very nice, indeed,” said the grocery boy, “but the truth of the matter is that I don’t know even the middle way to your house. But, if you can tell me what street it’s on, I think I could find it.”

“There we are again!” cried Tommy. “I wish we had thought to have tags put on us, with our address, and then we wouldn’t get lost, or, if we did, a postman could take us home.”

Then the three little Trippertrots looked worried, and, when the kind grocery boy saw this, he said:

“Never mind, I’m sure I can find your house sooner or later. Come, we will walk along, and look for it. Whoever sees it first will get a penny.”

“Who will give it to us?” asked Johnny.

“I will, myself, out of my own pocket,” said the grocery boy. “See, I have a bright, new penny,” and he showed it to the Trippertrots.

“Ah, but suppose _you_ see the house first?” asked Mary.

“I won’t, I promise you,” said the grocery boy. “I will walk along with my eyes shut, and you can lead me. Then some of you will be sure to see the house first yourselves, and you can have the penny, whoever is first.”

“But suppose we all see our house at the same time?” inquired Johnny.

Once more the grocery boy took off his cap, and scratched his nose and ear. Then he again waved his apron like a flag, and said:

“Well, in that case, I will give you each a penny, as I happen to have three,” and he showed them to the children. So they walked along together, the grocery boy with his eyes shut, so he couldn’t see the Trippertrot house first, while Mary and Tommy and Johnny were eagerly watching for it.

In this way the children went along for some distance, but they couldn’t find their house. They saw many wonderful things, however, such as men and ladies riding around in automobiles, and some people in trolley cars, and they saw a dog chasing a cat, and the cat ran up a tree, and her tail was as big as two bananas. At last, however, Mary said:

“Oh, dear, I don’t believe we’ll ever find our home this way. We ought to have the old fisherman, or Jiggily Jig, or Simple Simon, or the newsboy, to help us. We’ll never get home.”

“Oh, yes, we will,” said the grocery boy.

“Ah, I have an idea,” suddenly exclaimed Tommy. “The grocery wagon horse knows where our house is, because he stopped in front of it. Do you know where to find your horse, grocery boy?”

“Yes, I expect he is in the stable now,” was the answer.

“Then go get him, and he’ll take us home in the wagon,” said Tommy.

“The very thing. I’ll do it at once!” exclaimed the grocery boy. “You stay right here until I come back, and I’ll soon have you home in your own house, and I think the horse will know the shortest way, too.”

So the grocery boy started off to the stable, and the Trippertrot children sat down on the front steps of a house to wait for him to come back.

ADVENTURE NUMBER EIGHT

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE BASKET OF CLOTHES

“My, he is gone a terrible long time,” said Mary Trippertrot, after she and her brothers had waited, and waited, and waited some more, for the grocery boy to come back.

“Yes, perhaps he is lost himself, looking for the stable where his horse is,” suggested Johnny.

“Oh, grocery boys can’t get lost,” declared Tommy. “They have to know their way everywhere, so as to deliver groceries, and bread and butter and--and--lots of things. They can’t get lost.”

“Yes, they can,” said Johnny. “Don’t you remember when we once moved in a new house, and the grocery boy came with some groceries? Suzette told him to put them down cellar. He went down the stairs with his basket, and pretty soon we heard him hollering like anything. He was lost in the cellar, all right, so that shows you grocery boys _can_ get lost.”

“Oh, I remember _that_ time,” said Mary, with a laugh. “The boy hollered because Suzette forgot, and locked him in the cellar, and he couldn’t get out.”

“Well, when you can’t get to where you want to go you’re lost,” insisted Johnny, “so it’s the same thing. That grocery boy was lost, and maybe this one is, who has gone after the horse to take us home.”

“Oh, I hope not,” said Mary, “for it’s getting late, and it will soon be dark. I wish we were home. But we’ll wait here a little while longer.”

So the three little Trippertrots sat on the house-steps and watched the people walking along the street.

“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Tommy, at length, “everybody seems to have a house but us. See, they are all hurrying home, and we have to stay here.”

“Yes, let’s ask some of them to take us home, and not wait for the grocery boy,” suggested Johnny.

“Oh, no, don’t do that,” begged Mary. “It will be just as it always is. Folks will want to know where our house is, so they can take us to it, and, of course, we can’t tell them, and they’ll lead us off, and we’ll be lost more than ever. The best way will be to wait right here, until the grocery boy comes back with the horse, and then we’ll get home, for some horses know more than people, when it comes to taking lost children home to their papa and mamma.”

“All right, then we’ll wait,” agreed Tommy and Johnny.

They sat on the steps for some little time longer, and, pretty soon, along came a policeman swinging his club, and the brass buttons on his coat sparkled just like diamonds in the sunshine.

“Ah, ha, children!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t tell him we’re lost,” whispered Tommy to Mary. So the little Trippertrot girl said:

“Oh, we are waiting here for the horse and wagon.” She meant the grocery horse and wagon, you know.

“Very good,” said the policeman. “I hope it comes soon. But don’t go away or you might be lost.” Then he walked on, swinging his club, and Johnny laughed softly, and said:

“He doesn’t know we are lost already! But we will soon be at home.”

So they still sat there, and, by-and-by, a fireman came along. He had been home to dinner, and now he was going back to the engine house, to be ready to go to put out any fires that might happen to burn things. The fireman saw the children and he smiled at them.

“Ah, little ones,” he said, “I see you are sitting on the stoop to get the fresh air. That is right, but don’t go away, or you might get lost.”

Then the fireman hurried on to the engine house, and Tommy laughed very softly and said:

“Ha, ha! He doesn’t know we are lost, either.”

And many other people passed by, and either spoke to the Trippertrot children, or laughed at them, or smiled, and still Tommy and Mary and Johnny sat on the steps waiting, and waiting, and waiting, for the grocery boy to come back with the horse and wagon.

And then, somehow or other, before she knew it, Mary began to feel sleepy.

“I will just close my eyes for a minute or two,” she said. “You boys can make-believe you are out camping in the woods, and you can sit up on guard, while I sleep.”

Well, Tommy and Johnny thought that would be fun, so they kept their eyes very wide open, but nothing happened, and pretty soon they felt sleepy, but they wouldn’t go to sleep, for they knew that soldiers never slumbered while they were on guard.

Well, it was getting toward evening now, and it was becoming somewhat cold, and still that grocery boy hadn’t come. You see, he was lost himself, and he couldn’t find the stable where the horse was, and he couldn’t find his way back to where the children were, and there they waited, and waited, and waited.

And then something happened. All at once, along came a boy with a big basket of clothes on a little wagon. Oh, it was a very large basket, and a very small wagon, but it was quite strong, and the boy was also quite strong, so he could pull it very easily. But, when he came to the stoop where the children were, he sat down on the curbstone to rest. And the basket of clothes was so big that he didn’t see the Trippertrot children because they were behind it.

But Tommy and Johnny, who hadn’t gone to sleep, but who still sat beside their sister Mary, they saw the basket of clothes. And they knew Mary was very tired, for her head had fallen over on Tommy’s shoulder. Then Tommy thought of something.

“I say, Johnny,” he exclaimed, “wouldn’t it be fine if we could put Mary in the basket of clothes, so she could have a nice rest?”

“Hum! It would be nice if we could get in ourselves,” said Johnny, “only but the boy wouldn’t let us, I guess.”

“Maybe he wouldn’t,” agreed Tommy, and just then, as truly as I’m telling you, the boy who had the basket of clothes ran across the street to look in a toy shop window; maybe he wanted to see if they had anything he could buy for a penny. Anyhow, there was the basket of clothes on the wagon, and there was no one near it except the Trippertrots.

“Now’s our chance!” exclaimed Tommy. “Quick! We’ll put Mary in the basket, and get in ourselves.”

“But what about when the grocery boy comes back with the horse for us?” asked Johnny.

“I don’t believe he’s coming back,” spoke his brother, “or else he’d be here now. We might as well get in the clothes-basket and rest, and see what happens after that.”

“All right,” agreed Johnny. So they lifted Mary up very gently, for she was a little girl, and not very heavy, and they were strong boys, if they were younger than their sister, and they carried her over toward the basket of clothes.

“Good-night, mamma,” murmured Mary, who was only half awake. “Tuck me in good, I’m so tired and sleepy.”

“She thinks she’s home,” whispered Tommy.

“Yes, we mustn’t wake her up,” said Johnny, also in a whisper. So, very gently, they lifted off the sheet that was over the top of the clean, ironed clothes, and they laid Mary down in among them. But first they put some newspapers around her shoes so they wouldn’t dirty the towels and pillow-cases, you know.

“Now let us get in ourselves,” said Johnny, and he and his brother wrapped some newspapers around their shoes, and then they crawled in the big basket of clothes beside their sister Mary. Then they pulled the sheet up over them, and then--and then--and then--they were both fast asleep almost as quickly as the pussy cat can wiggle its tail. Fast asleep in the basket of clothes were the Trippertrots.

Then the boy, who had been pulling the basket on his wagon, came back from across the street. He didn’t buy anything in the toy shop.

“Now I must take these clothes home,” he said to himself, as he began to wheel them. And then, all of a sudden, he exclaimed: “My! How heavy they are! I wonder what makes that? I guess it must be because I’m going up hill. Never mind, I’ll soon have them where they belong, and then I’ll get the money and take it home to mamma, and she’ll be happy.”

And, mind you, that boy never even dreamed that the three Trippertrot children were in his basket of clothes. He kept on wheeling them along the street, and once he slipped on a banana-skin, and almost fell down. Almost, I say, but not quite. And once a dog barked at him, not in earnest, only in fun, you know. And, all the while, the Trippertrots were fast asleep.

They even dreamed, too, as they were being wheeled along in the basket. Mary dreamed she was in a balloon, taking a trip through the air, and Tommy dreamed he was on the tail of a kite, and Johnny dreamed that he was bouncing up and down on a rocking-horse.

And, after a while, the boy who was pulling the basket of clothes on his wagon came to a house. He stopped in front of it. The house was painted green, and it had a red roof, only you couldn’t see that part of it, unless you went up in a balloon.

“Well, I’m glad I’m here with the clothes,” said the boy. “Now I’ll take them in and get my money.”

So he carried the basket of clothes up into the house. And there he found great excitement going on. The telephone bell was ringing, and there was a policeman there, and the nursemaid was running around through all the rooms, and the lady and man were almost crying.

“My children! Oh, where are my children? They are lost!” cried the lady. “Oh, have you seen my children?”

“No, I’m sorry to say I haven’t,” said the boy, and he really hadn’t, you know. “But here are your clean clothes, Mrs. Trippertrot,” he went on.

The lady took off the sheet from the basket of clothes and there she saw Mary and Tommy and Johnny, all fast asleep.

“Oh, my darlings!” she exclaimed. “Here they are! Oh, you dear washerwoman’s boy, to bring back my lost children!” And she hugged him, and then Tommy and Mary and Johnny awakened, and there they were, right in their own home. It was their own mamma’s basket of clothes into which they had crawled, never even guessing it, and the boy, not knowing it, had brought them safely home. The boy’s mamma was the washerwoman for Mrs. Trippertrot, you see, and he always delivered the clean clothes.

So there the Trippertrots were, but that wasn’t the last of their adventures. No, indeed!

ADVENTURE NUMBER NINE

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE POSTMAN

The three little Trippertrots had not done any traveling for some days now, and they were beginning to get a bit tired of staying in the house so much. They were almost wishing something would happen.

One day they were in the front parlor of their home, looking out of the window, for it was Saturday, I think, and they didn’t have to go to kindergarten school. Suddenly the doorbell rang, and Mary said:

“Oh, I wonder who that is?”

“I’m going to look,” spoke Tommy.

“Mamma said we mustn’t do that,” said Mary. “It isn’t polite.”

“It sounds like company ringing the bell,” spoke Johnny. “And there goes Suzette to answer it,” he added, as the nursemaid hurried down to the hall to the front door.

“Oh, I remember now!” exclaimed Mary. “I saw mamma putting on her new silk dress a while ago, so she must be going to have company. Come on, boys, we’d better get out of the front room, for mamma doesn’t allow us in there when she has visitors.”

“I know what we can do,” said Tommy, as he crawled under a big chair to get his rubber ball, which had rolled there.

“What?” asked Mary, eagerly.

“We can go upstairs to our playroom,” went on her brother, “and then we can look down in the street, and see whose carriage or automobile is there. Then we’ll know what company mamma has, without looking out of the windows down here.”

“That’s the very thing!” cried Johnny. “And maybe it’s some of those ladies who play or sing in such high voices. We can hear them upstairs, and it will be lots of fun.”

So the Trippertrot children started to go up to their playroom, and in the hall they met Suzette.

“Where are you going?” the nursemaid asked them, as she paused on her way to answer the bell.

“Just upstairs to look out of the window,” replied Mary.

“Very well, but don’t go away,” cautioned Suzette.

“No, not unless it’s a very special, extra-extraordinary occasion,” answered Johnny.

Once they were upstairs they all ran to the window and looked down into the street below. There, in front of their house, was a great big automobile, all enclosed with glass windows, so the people in it wouldn’t get cold. And the man who sat in front had on a big fur coat, like a shaggy bear, so he wouldn’t get frosty.

“Oh, I know whose car that is!” cried Mary. “It belongs to Mrs. Robertson Dudleyshire, and she doesn’t sing or play, so we can’t hear her. It won’t be any fun at all. I wish we had something to do.”

“Wait, maybe she will do something funny, so we can hear it and laugh,” proposed Tommy, so they waited until Mrs. Robertson Dudleyshire was sitting in the parlor below them. They could hear her voice, a deep, rumbling one, and they could hear their mother answering, but, as Mary had said, there was “no fun,” and the Trippertrot children didn’t know what to do.

“Hark! What’s that?” suddenly exclaimed Tommy, as he heard a loud whistle out in the street. “Is that a policeman?”

“Oh! Maybe he’s chasing a dog, with a tin can tied to his tail?” suggested Johnny.

“Why, you silly boys!” cried Mary. “That’s the postman’s whistle. Perhaps he has some letters for us--maybe invitations to some party. Let’s look out of the window.”

So they ran from the middle of the room, where they had been sitting to listen to the rumble of Mrs. Robertson Dudleyshire’s voice, to the front windows, and stuck their little noses flat against the panes of glass, so they could look down to the street.

“Oh, dear! He isn’t coming to our house at all!” cried Mary, as the letter-man passed by, with his bag over his shoulder. “He’s gone next door.”

Once more the postman’s whistle sounded, and then Tommy, who was watching him eagerly, hoping that perhaps there might, after all, be a letter for the Trippertrot home, uttered a cry.

“See!” Tommy exclaimed. “The postman has dropped a letter from his bag, and he doesn’t know it. He’s going right on.”

“Oh, we must tell him about it!” decided Mary. “Knock on the window, boys, and call to him. He’ll understand.”

So Tommy and Johnny knocked on the pane of glass with their fingers, and Mary helped them, but they couldn’t make noise enough so that the postman could hear them. On he hurried, blowing his whistle, and he never thought that he had lost a letter in the street.

“Raise the window and call to him!” said Mary.

So Tommy and Johnny tried to do this, but the window was stuck fast, and they couldn’t open it. And all this time the postman was getting farther and farther away.

“Well, we’ve got to do it!” sighed Mary, at last.

“Do what?” asked Tommy and Johnny together.

“We’ve got to run after the postman, and give him the letter he lost,” said the little Trippertrot girl. “We’ve tried every way we knew to make him hear us, but he didn’t. Now we’ve got to go out. It’s a special, extra-extraordinary occasion, anyhow, I guess.”

“Shall we tell mamma we’re going?” asked Tommy.

“No, she wouldn’t want to be bothered, when she has company,” decided Mary. “Besides, we’ll be right back. It’s only a step. Get your hats and coats, boys, for it’s quite cold.”

“We’ll go down the back stairs,” suggested Tommy, when they were all ready. “Then Suzette won’t see us, and ask questions about where we’re going.”

So they did this, and soon they were running softly along the narrow passageway at the side of the house, that led from the back stoop. Out into the street they scampered and they eagerly looked toward the place where they had seen the letter fall.

Surely enough, it was still there, and Tommy, running to it, eagerly picked up the envelope.

“It’s a real one, all right,” he said, “for it’s got a postage stamp on it, and really-truly writing, with ink.”

“Does it say who it is to?” asked Mary.

“It does, I guess,” answered her brother, “but I can’t read writing.”

“If we could, it would save us the trouble of running after the postman and giving it to him,” spoke Johnny. “Where is he, anyhow?”

They looked up the street and down the street and all over, but they couldn’t see the letter-man. I guess he had gone around the corner.

“Oh, what shall we do?” asked Mary. “We can’t keep the letter, and it wouldn’t be right to take it home. Oh, I wish the postman hadn’t walked so fast!”

“I know what we can do!” cried Tommy. “We can be the postman ourselves, and take the letter where it belongs. We’ll ask the first person we meet where the right house is, and we’ll go there. Then to-morrow we can tell the postman, and he’ll be very glad the letter wasn’t lost.”

Johnny and Mary thought this a fine plan, so they walked along, and pretty soon they met a man.

“If you please,” asked Tommy, “where does this letter belong?” and he showed him the lost one.

“Ha! You are very little children to be out delivering letters,” said the man. “Be careful you don’t get lost yourselves.”

“We won’t!” exclaimed the three little Trippertrots, like two twins, and part of another one, you know. Then the man said that if they went down to the corner, and turned to their right for about four houses they would come to the one where the letter belonged, for the man had read the address.

Then he gave the children each a penny, for he loved little ones, and Mary and Tommy and Johnny walked on to deliver the letter for the postman.

Well, as true as I’m telling you, instead of turning to the right when they got to the corner, they turned to the left. Then, of course, when they went to the fourth house the lady there said the letter didn’t belong to her. So they tried the first house and the second and the third and the fifth, up to over a dozen, on both sides of the street, but they couldn’t find where that letter belonged.

“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Mary, when they had walked on for some distance more. “I just knew this would happen.”

“What has happened?” asked Tommy. “We haven’t lost the letter.”