Chapter II: Part 2

So the Trippertrots ran faster, and so did Ivy Vine, the cat, for she didn’t like the wet very much; and neither did Fido, the dog; but they didn’t say anything about it. And the old fisherman ran, also.

Mary and Tommy and Johnny looked toward the little house to see what kind of a person the false-face man was. He was standing in the doorway. And he was quite a jolly sort of a man, if you will kindly take my word for it. He had on an apron all covered with spots of paint, and his arms, on which the sleeves were rolled up almost to the shoulders, had paint on them also. The children could see him quite plainly now, for all of a sudden the sky cleared up, though the ground was still very wet.

“Leave the umbrella, chair, coat and rubber boots here,” said the old fisherman. “We won’t need them, as it has stopped raining.”

So they put them down in the grass and hurried on.

And oh, so many, many pretty colors as the children saw! There were red spots on the false-face man, and green spots of paint, and pink spots, and black spots, and yellow, and brown, and purple, and gold, and silver, and even some chimney-colored spots. It was just as if a rainbow had splattered over him.

“Why is he all spotted up that way?” asked Mary, as she and Johnny splashed into a puddle and out again.

“Because he paints the false-faces,” said the old fisherman. “He paints them all sorts of colors, and, of course, some of the paint splashes on him. But bless you! he doesn’t mind it in the least; not in the least, I do assure you.”

“Does he make _all_ the false-faces?” asked Tommy, as he stepped along.

“Everyone,” answered the old fisherman. “All those faces you see in the store windows for Hallowe’en. Wait. I’ll have him tell you about it.”

So they ran on, and now they were right at the front door of the house of the false-face man, and they could see that he was even more jolly-looking than they had at first thought.

“Don’t you make all the false-faces?” the old fisherman asked him, as he pointed to some of them hanging on the house. “Please tell the children all about it.”

“To be sure I will,” said the false-face man, with a jolly laugh. “I have just finished making a whole lot of false-faces for the children all over this country, and for some out in a city called Orange; but I think that must be a funny place. I wonder why they didn’t call it Lemon?”

“Because, if you please,” said Mary, “I think it was because lemons are sour.”

“Ha! I never thought of that!” exclaimed the false-face man. “No doubt you are right. But come in. Don’t mind the paint. It won’t come off, for it’s dry by this time.”

“I wish _we_ were dry,” said old fisherman, as he twisted his whiskers around to squeeze the water out of them. “_We_ are very wet, even if the paint isn’t.”

“Well, come in, and you may sit by the fire,” said the false-face man. “I’m very glad to see you.”

“And will you really tell us about making the false-faces, if you please?” asked Tommy politely.

“To be sure I will,” was the answer. “Do you mind if I sing it?” and the false-face man looked at the children, and then at Ivy Vine, who was trying to get her fur dry with her red tongue.

“No. I think they would like very much to hear you sing,” spoke the old fisherman.

“Do you think the dog or cat would mind?” went on the false-face man. “Some dogs don’t like music.”

“Oh, I don’t believe they would mind your singing,” said Tommy, and the false-face man and the old fisherman began to laugh, though the Trippertrots didn’t know why.

“Well, then, here goes for the song,” said the false-face man after a while. “It’s not a very good one, as I made it up myself, but it’s the best I can do. And I’ll sing it to the tune of Hum-dum-dum diddle-iddle-um.”

Then he sang this song:

“I am the false-est facer man
That ever you have seen.
I make false-faces colored red,
And also colored green.
I make an elephant’s false-face,
And then I go and make
A false-face for a mooley-cow
Who’s eating jelly cake.

“I’ll make false-faces for you all,
If you will kindly wait;
I’ll make one for the soup dish,
And for the butter plate.
And then we’ll have a party,
The funniest ever seen,
For we’ll all have false-faces
To wear on Hallowe’en.”

“I think that is a very nice song,” said Mary, when the false-face man had finished.

“Thank you,” replied the false-face man, making a low bow.

“Oh, goody!” cried Tommy. “When is Hallowe’en?”

“To-night,” answered the old fisherman.

“And will you really make false-faces for all of us?” inquired Johnny.

“To be sure I will,” said the false-face man, “and I’ll make one for Ivy Vine, and for Fido the dog. Then we’ll have a party, just as I sung about.”

“Oh, but I forgot!” exclaimed Mary. “We can’t stay to any Hallowe’en party.”

“Why not?” asked Tommy.

“Because we’re lost,” said his sister. “We must try to find our way back home, or mamma and papa will be alarmed about us.”

“That’s so,” said the two boys.

“Oh, don’t worry,” spoke the false-face man. “I think I can find your home for you after a while, and it is early yet.”

That made the children feel better, and they thought they might stay just a little while longer; anyway, until they got their false-faces.

“Now, what kind of faces do you want?” asked the man, who was all covered with paint spots.

“I want an Indian’s!” exclaimed Tommy.

“You shall have it,” said the false-face man.

“And I want one like Little Jack Horner, who sat in the corner,” said Johnny.

“You shall have it,” said the false-face man, with a jolly laugh, “and you may sit in the corner of my shop here, and perhaps we can find a Christmas pie so you can put in your thumb and pull out a plum.”

“Oh, that will be jolly!” exclaimed Tommy.

“And now what kind of a false-face do you want, Mary?” asked the old fisherman.

“Oh, I think I would like one of Old Mother Hubbard who went to the cupboard,” said the little Trippertrot girl.

“And you may have that,” promised the false-face man. “And I have a cupboard, and you have the dog, so if we can find a bone the cupboard won’t be bare.”

Then he gave the children their false-faces, and he found a bone for Fido, who barked three times, to say thank you; and there was some milk for Ivy Vine. Then the children put on their false-faces, and there was one for Fido. He was dressed up like a monkey; and as for Ivy Vine, she had a false-face like a wax doll, and she was very cute-looking.

And the false-face man didn’t need any false-face himself, as he was all covered over with paint, anyhow. And whom do you suppose the old fisherman dressed up like? Why, who else but Santa Claus, and he wore his own whiskers. Then they had a party, and Johnny put his thumb in a pie and pulled out a whole bag full of sugar plums. Oh, they were just having the grandest time, when, all of a sudden, there came a knock on the door!

“Ha! I wonder who that can be?” asked the false-face man.

“I’ll look,” said the old fisherman.

So he looked, and who should be there but the Trippertrots’ nursemaid, Suzette.

“Oh, children!” exclaimed Suzette, when she saw them. “You must come home at once! I have been looking everywhere for you! Your mamma is much worried. Come home at once!”

“We didn’t mean to run away,” said Mary, “but the sawhorse and the clothes-horse and the rocking-horse got going so fast that we couldn’t stop them. So we got lost.”

“But we’re not lost now, any more!” exclaimed Tommy, as the nursemaid walked into the house.

“And here is a little present for Suzette,” spoke the false-face man, as he gave her a face that looked like a Chinese lady, with a pigtail down her back.

And then, when the children had said good-by to their two friends, the fisherman and the false-face man, they started home with Suzette, taking Ivy Vine and Fido with them, and also their false-faces.

But they hadn’t been home very long before they ran away again, and then they had another adventure.

ADVENTURE NUMBER SEVEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE LITTLE OLD LADY

One day Mrs. Trippertrot called to her three children.

“Now, children,” she said, “I am going out for a little while, and I do hope you will not trot off anywhere this time. You don’t know how worried I am when you run off, as you have done several times lately.”

“We’re sorry, mamma,” said Tommy.

“And we don’t ever really mean to trot off,” said Mary Trippertrot.

“It--it just seems to happen,” spoke Johnny Trippertrot. “Our legs run off with us before we know it.”

“Well, try and not let them run off with you to-day,” said their mamma. “I will leave Suzette in charge of you.”

“We’ll try to be good, mamma,” said Mary politely.

“But, oh! we did have such fun the other day when we rode off on the funny horses!” exclaimed Tommy.

“Yes, when we met the false-face man and the old fisherman,” added Johnny.

“Oh, I know what let’s do!” cried Mary. “We’ll get out our false-faces and play it’s Hallowe’en again.”

“That will be nice, I think,” said their mamma, “and it ought to keep you in the house. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

So off she went, downtown shopping, I guess, and the children got out their funny false-faces, and played some games. They were having a good time, when, all at once, they heard some one out in the street crying.

“I wonder who that is?” said Johnny.

“Let’s go look,” suggested Tommy.

“No, you had better not,” said Suzette the maid. “For it might be a funny monkey, and then you would want to go off after it, and you would be lost again. You had better stay here and play at having a surprise party.”

Well, the children didn’t want to do that, but they knew they must mind Suzette, for she was in charge of them. But just then something happened. The delivery wagon came from the big downtown store, and Suzette had to go down to the side door to take in some things for the children’s mamma. Then Mary and Tommy and Johnny heard the crying noise out in the street again, and Mary said:

“I don’t believe it would do any harm to take just one peep, to see who is crying.”

“Me, either,” spoke Tommy.

“Then let’s do it,” said Johnny, and they did. They went to the front window and looked out. And this is what the children saw:

There was a tiny little girl walking along, and she had fallen down, and her knee had been cut on a sharp stone, and that’s why she was crying.

“Oh, see the poor thing!” cried Mary.

“We ought to help her,” said Johnny.

“Then let’s do it,” suggested Tommy. “Suzette or mamma wouldn’t care if we helped somebody in trouble. Mamma would want us to, I’m sure. Besides, mamma isn’t here now, and neither is Suzette.” For you see, the nursemaid was still talking to the delivery boy. He had forgotten to bring a spool of thread that Mrs. Trippertrot needed, and Suzette was asking about it.

“We’ll go down to the little girl,” said Mary. “We can’t get lost in front of our own house.”

So down they went, and I just want you to listen, and see what happened after that. It just goes to show that you never, never can tell what is going to happen in this world.

“What is the matter, little girl?” asked Mary, after she had wiped the child’s tears away with her handkerchief.

“Oh! Boo-hoo! I’m lost!” cried the little girl. “I went to the store for a stick of candy, but I came back the wrong way, and I’m lost.”

“Where is the stick of candy?” asked Tommy.

“I ate it all up,” said the little lost girl. “Look! You can’t see it.” And she opened her mouth so the Trippertrots could see away down her throat, and believe me, there wasn’t a bit of candy to be seen!

“Yes, it’s all gone,” said Johnny sorrowfully, when he got through looking.

“Say, do you know what I think we ought to do?” spoke Tommy suddenly.

“What?” asked Mary and Johnny.

“We ought to take this little lost girl home. We’d want some one to take us home if we were lost, and I don’t believe mamma or Suzette would mind.”

“I don’t, either,” said Mary.

“Then let’s do it,” said Tommy. “Do you know which street you live on?” he asked of the little girl.

“Oh, yes. It’s a street with trees on it,” said the child, and now she stopped crying. “Please take me to it.”

“There are lots of streets with trees on,” said Tommy, “but we’ll try to find the right one for you. Come on.”

And so that’s how the Trippertrots started tripping and trotting off again, and at the beginning they didn’t really mean to do so at all. But you see how some very funny things happen sometimes.

Along they walked, all four children together, hand in hand, looking for the house where the little lost girl lived. Ivy Vine, the cat, didn’t come along this time, nor did Fido, the dog. For Ivy Vine was washing her face with her red tongue, and Fido was gnawing a bone.

“What is your name, little girl?” asked Mary, when they had gone a short distance down the street.

“My name is Jack,” she answered.

“Why, that is not a girl’s name, it’s a boy’s!” said Tommy in surprise.

“I know it,” said the little lost girl, “and I _want_ to be a boy, so I choosed a boy’s name. My mamma lets me, and when I grow up I’m going to ride a horse and play football.”

The Trippertrot children laughed at that, and they thought the little girl who wanted to be a boy was very nice. But still they couldn’t seem to find her home. They looked all over for her house, and every time they came to a street with trees on it they asked her if it was there she lived, but she said:

“No, none of these houses are my papa’s house. I guess we’ll have to go on a little farther.”

So they went on a little farther, but still they couldn’t seem to find the place, and the little girl said:

“Oh, dear! I guess I’m lost still, aren’t I?” And she took a tighter hold of Mary Trippertrot’s hand.

“I guess you are,” answered Mary.

“And I guess _we_ are, too,” said Tommy.

“Well, that’s just what I was afraid would happen,” said Johnny. “Here we are lost again, and we promised mamma we wouldn’t go out of the house.”

“Oh, but we really didn’t _mean_ to,” said Mary; “and besides, she’ll forgive us when she knows we tried to do a kindness.”

“Yes, I guess so,” said Tommy, “but what are we going to do? I don’t know which way to go.”

Neither did any of the others, and Mary was just looking around, hoping she could find a nice policeman, when, all at once, the door of a house, in front of which they were standing, opened, and a kind little old lady looked out.

“Oh, you poor, dear, little lost children!” she exclaimed. “Come right in here, and let me love you.”

“How did you know we were lost?” asked Tommy.

“Oh, I was once a little girl myself,” said the nice little old lady, and, though her hair was white, her eyes were as bright as the snapping fire on a cold night. “So I know when children are lost,” she added.

So the little lost girl and the Trippertrots, who were also lost now, went into the house of the little old lady. She brought out some nice low chairs for them to sit on, and she gave them some picture books to look at, and then what do you think she did? Why, she went out and got them some bowls of milk from a mooley-cow--the milk was from the cow, you know, not the bowls--and she brought some bread; and say! I just wish I had some of that bread and milk myself! Oh, it was very good! But I can’t have any, because the Trippertrots and the lost girl finished it all up, down to the last drop, and they ate some sugar cookies, too.

“My, I’m sure I don’t know what to do with you children,” said the little old lady, shaking her white head at them, after they had finished eating. “I wish I knew where your home was.”

“Send for a policeman,” said Mary.

“What! A policeman? Why, you’re not bad, are you?” cried the little old lady.

“Oh, no! But policemans most always know where we live,” said Johnny. “We’re the Trippertrots, and we’re always getting lost.”

“Yes, send for a policeman,” said Tommy.

“I believe I will,” spoke the little old lady. “I’ll go for one myself; but I’ll have to leave you here all alone, as no one lives with me. But I know you’ll be all right, and you can look at the pictures and listen to the cat purring.”

And sure enough, there was a big gray cat sleeping on the rug in the middle of the floor, and it was purring just like a sewing machine because it was so happy. The cat was happy, not the sewing machine, you know. And the cat purred, not the rug, you see.

Then the little old lady put on her bonnet and shawl, and went out for a policeman who might find the homes of the lost Trippertrots and the lost girl.

“I like it here very much,” said Mary, as she rubbed the cat’s back.

“So do I,” said the little lost girl. “It is almost as nice as my home.”

Tommy and Johnny liked it, too, and they were just looking at some picture books, and wishing they had more bread and milk, when, all at once, there came a knock at the door.

“I guess that is the policeman, come to take us home,” said Mary, with a happy laugh.

“Maybe it’s my papa,” suggested the little lost girl named Jack. And then the door opened, and there stood a funny little man, making low bows to the children, and saying:

“Oh, I’m so glad I found you. Come with me.”

ADVENTURE NUMBER EIGHT

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE LITTLE OLD MAN

For a few seconds after he had opened the door and spoken to the Trippertrot children, the queer little old man didn’t say anything more. He just stood there, bowing all the while, just like the pendulum of the clock, only he went up and down, and the pendulum in the clock goes sideways, you see.

“Well, are you coming along, children?” said the nice little old man, after a while, and he stopped bowing.

“Do you think we ought to go?” asked Mary of her two brothers.

“Well,” began Tommy, “the little old lady has gone for a policeman to take us home, and maybe we ought to wait until she comes back.”

“Oh, I think I can take you home as well as a policeman could,” said the little old man, and he came into the room, and tickled the pussy cat under the chin, and made the cat purr louder than ever.

“Do you know where we live?” asked Mary.

“No, but I can find out,” said the little old man. “I will look in the telephone book, or in the directory book, or something, and find your house for you. And if I can’t find _your_ house I will take you to _mine_, and you can have some fun.”

“That will be nice,” said Johnny.

“How did you know we were here?” asked Tommy.

“Oh, I saw you come in,” replied the little old man. “I was out in the street, and I saw you. Then I saw the little old lady go away----”

“Yes, she went for a policeman for us,” said Tommy.

“Well, I was afraid she was going to run away and leave you all alone,” said the little old man, “and as I like children very much I thought I’d come and take care of you. So here I am, and if you come with me before the policeman gets here we’ll have a little fun with him. Maybe he’ll think you have flown up the chimney, as Santa Claus does.”

“Oh, fine!” cried Tommy.

And just then, all of a sudden, the little lost girl began to cry.

“Why, whatever in the world is the matter?” asked the little old man.

“Boo-hoo! I--I thought you were my papa,” said the little lost girl, and she let some salty tears fall down on the cat’s back. “I thought you were my papa, and you aren’t at all.”

Then she cried a lot more, boo-hoo! and boo-hoo!--like that, you know--and the little old man went up to her, and he put his arms around her, and he wiped away her tears, and he said:

“Now--now--never mind. It’s all right. I’m going to take you to your papa right away. Don’t cry.” And his voice was so gentle, and he seemed such a nice man, that the little lost girl didn’t cry a single tear more. And it’s a good thing, because the pussy cat was getting all wet from them, and cats don’t like water, you know, especially salty tear water.

“Come on, now; hurry up,” cried the little old man. “We must hurry away from here, or the little old lady will be back with the policeman before we know it. Come along.”

“But we can’t go without thanking her for being so kind to us,” said Mary.

“That’s so,” said the little man. “Wait. I’ll write her a nice letter.” So he did that, and told the little old lady how thankful the Trippertrots and the little lost girl were for what she had done for them, and he put the letter down in front of the pussy cat, where the little old lady would see it when she got back. And the pussy put its paw down on the letter, so it wouldn’t blow away, and then it went to sleep--I mean the cat went to sleep, not the letter, you understand, of course.

“Now we are all ready,” said the little old man, and then he went out of the front door, and led the children down the street.

A little while after that, when the little old man and the children had turned around a corner, along came the little old lady and the kind policeman. They went into the house, and the lady looked all around for the children.

“Why, my goodness sakes alive!” she cried. “They’re gone!”

“Gone, eh?” asked the policeman. “What were their names?”

“The Trippertrots,” said the little old lady.

“Oh, ho!” laughed the policeman. “Then you don’t need to worry. They are sure to be all right. They are always getting lost, but they will get safely home again. Don’t worry.”

So the little old lady didn’t worry very much, and the policeman went away, and then the lady found the thankful letter where the cat was sleeping on it.

“Oh, if the little old man has the children they are all right,” said the little old lady, and then she gave the cat some milk.

But now I must tell you what happened to the Trippertrots and the little lost girl. They walked along the street with the nice, kind old man until pretty soon they came to a place like a park, with beautiful trees in it, and little brooks flowing over stones, and in the brooks were goldfishes and some silver-fishes, too, and they were wiggling their tails, and swimming about, looking for something to eat.

“Oh, what a lovely place!” cried Mary.

“Yes. What is it?” asked Johnny.

“I’d like to go in there,” spoke Tommy.

“You may,” said the little old man. “This is a garden, and a playground for boys and girls. You may do just as you like, as long as you are kind and good and pleasant. And I know you will be that way. So come on in, and have some fun; and when you are through playing I’ll find where you live, and take you home.”

“And me, too?” asked the little lost girl named Jack.

“Yes; you also,” answered the little old man.

So the children went into the beautiful garden. Oh! I wish you could have seen it! And perhaps some day I will be allowed to come around and take you all there in a fairy automobile with big fat rubber tires. But not just yet.

Now, in this garden were many swings and hammocks, and shady trees under which to rest, and there were little hills all covered with grass, down which the children could roll over and over, and never get hurt, any more than if they rolled on a feather bed.

And there were also piles of sand in big boxes, and there the Trippertrots and the little lost girl had lots of fun. They made sand gardens and sand houses and castles, wherein lived beautiful knights and princes and their ladies, and then there was a place where a whole lot of soldiers could parade and shoot off their make-believe guns.

And the flower gardens! Oh, I wish you could have seen them. Even though it was almost winter, the flowers were in blossom, for the little old man knew how to make them bloom in cold weather. And the children were allowed to pick as many flowers as they wanted, only they thought they looked prettier on their stems, so they didn’t take many.

Well, the Trippertrots were playing away, and having lots of fun. Tommy was in the swing, and Johnny pushed him up so high that Tommy nearly hit the top of a tree. And then something happened. Mary was building a nice sand house for a dollie to live in, when the house fell down and covered her legs all up. Covered Mary’s legs, I mean, not the doll’s. Mary couldn’t see her legs, and she thought they might have dropped off.

“Oh, dear!” she cried.

“What is the matter?” called Tommy.

“My poor little legs!” said Mary, trying to pull them out from under the sand.

“Oh, they’re all right,” spoke Johnny, and then he took a piece of board and he dug the sand off Mary’s legs, and she was all right again, and she made a big sand bridge for boats to go under.

Soon out from his house in the beautiful garden came running the funny little man. He was waving his arms all around his head, like a windmill in a storm.

“Oh, I have found where you live! I have found where you live!” he cried, in his jolly voice.

“Where who lives, us or that little girl named Jack?” asked Tommy.

“I know where Jack lives,” said the little old man. “I called up on the telephone and found out. Her papa is coming for her in a minute.”

“Oh, goodie!” cried the little girl, jumping up and down.

“But what about us?” asked Mary Trippertrot.

“I’ll find where you live very soon,” said the little old man. And just then the little lost girl’s papa came for her, and took her home, after he had thanked the Trippertrots and the little old man for being so kind to her.

And then, all of a sudden, when the little old man was calling up on the telephone, trying to find where the Trippertrots lived--all of a sudden, I say--along came Suzette, the nursemaid, looking for them.

“Oh, you children!” she cried, when she saw them in the garden. “I thought I would never find you. Come home at once. Why did you run away?”

“We went to help a little lost girl, and we got lost ourselves,” said Mary; “but we didn’t mean to, did we, boys?”

“No,” answered Tommy and Johnny together. Then Suzette thanked the little old man, and she took the children home, and oh! how glad their mamma was to see them! And they said they would never trot away again. But you just wait and see what happens.

ADVENTURE NUMBER NINE

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE FIREMAN

A few days after the Trippertrot children got home, following their adventure with the little old man, their mamma said to them:

“Now, children, I am going over to see your Aunt Mary Jane, and I want you to stay in the house until I get back. It is rather chilly out of doors, and it looks as if it might rain. So stay in, play with your toys, or look at your picture books, but don’t go out.”

“Can’t we go out at all, mamma?” asked Mary Trippertrot, as she looked in a glass to see if her hair ribbon was on straight.

“No,” said her mother, as she looked in the glass to see if her hat was on straight.

“Not even if the house should tumble down on us?” asked Tommy Trippertrot.

“Well, if something most extraordinary like that happens, you _may_ run out,” said Mrs. Trippertrot, trying not to laugh.

“Of course,” spoke Johnny, “we wouldn’t want to be all squashed up, like pancakes.”

“Oh, I just love pancakes--the kind you eat, I mean!” exclaimed Mary. “May we have some, mamma?”

“Perhaps. I’ll see about it when I get back. Now good-by,” she said to them, “and be good children, and don’t go out unless you really have to.”

So they promised, and they all crowded to the window of the big front room to wave their hands to their mamma as she went down the steps.

Then they began to play with their toys, and to look at picture books, until pretty soon Mary said:

“Oh, dear! This isn’t any fun!”

“No, indeed,” agreed Tommy.

“I--I almost wish we could run away again, and get lost,” said Johnny boldly.

“Oh-o-o-o-o-o!” exclaimed Mary. “You wouldn’t really go tripping and trotting off again, would you?”

“I would, if something happened,” said Johnny, and he tried to make all of his toy soldiers stand up in a line, but they fell over and bumped their noses on the carpet, and one soldier lost his sword. Then the children played circus for a while, and Tommy was a make-believe elephant, who lived in a cave under the big chair, until all at once Mary said:

“I know what I’m going to do. I’m going to ask Suzette to build a nice fire in the open grate. Then we can sit and watch the flames go up the chimney, and we can make-believe we see pictures in them.”

“Oh, that will be fine!” cried Tommy and Johnny.

So Suzette came in, and built a fine, big fire on the large open brick hearth. And dear me! how the flames did roar up the chimney! for Suzette put on a great deal of wood. It burned and it blazed, and then, all of a sudden, the front doorbell rang.

“There’s mamma come back!” cried Mary, as she ran to open the door. Tommy and Johnny followed her, but instead of Mrs. Trippertrot being there, it was a fireman, in his nice blue uniform, with silver buttons on the coat, and he was wiping his feet on the mat.

“Quick!” he cried, for firemen always have to be quick, you know. “Quick! Let me in! The chimney is on fire, and I must put it out!”

“Put out which, the fire or the chimney?” asked Tommy, who was often a funny sort of a little fellow.

“Put the fire out, of course,” cried the fireman. “Ha! I thought so!” he exclaimed, when he had rushed into the front room and had seen the big blaze in the fireplace. “There is too much wood on there. Quick, get me a lot of salt!”

So Mary ran to the kitchen to get the salt, for Suzette had gone upstairs, to make the beds, I guess, and the nursemaid didn’t even know the fireman was in the house. Back Mary came running with a whole bowlful of salt.

“Oh, please, Mr. Fireman,” said Tommy, “before you put out the fire, mayn’t we just run out on the sidewalk and see it spouting up out of the chimney top? Mayn’t we, please? We’ve never seen a chimney on fire.”

“Mamma said we weren’t to go out,” spoke Mary.

“But this is a most extra-extra-extraordinary occasion,” said Tommy. “It isn’t exactly like the house falling down, but if the fire in the chimney burns long enough it may fall down, mightn’t it, Mr. Fireman?”

“Oh, yes,” he answered, and he got ready to throw salt on the fire, for that puts out a blaze in the chimney, you know. Yes, really it does. I’m not fooling a bit, honestly.

“Oh, may we go out?” asked Mary this time, and the fireman said they might, and that he’d wait a minute before he threw the salt on the flames. So out the Trippertrots ran, and sure enough, there was a lot of fire coming out of the top of their chimney. You see, the soot--that is, the black stuff inside--had caught fire from the big blaze Suzette had made on the hearth.

Then, all of a sudden, as the children stood on the sidewalk, the fire went out, for the fireman threw on the salt.

“Now we must run in,” said Mary. “It’s chilly here, and the fire’s out, anyhow, so there’s nothing more to see. Come on, boys.”

In the children ran, and the fireman was getting ready to go out, for he had finished his work. He said he happened to be passing along the street, when he saw the chimney on fire, and then he hurried in.

“But now the fire is out, and so I am going out, too,” said the fireman; and out he went, as quickly as you can stub your toe on a stone in the road.

“Now there isn’t any nice warm blaze on the hearth,” said Mary, after a while. “What shall we play now? We can’t look at pictures in the fire.”

“Oh, I just thought of something!” cried Tommy.

“What?” asked Johnny.

“We forgot to thank that fireman,” went on Tommy, “and that’s very impolite. He did us a great favor in putting out the chimney fire, and now I’m going to run after him and thank him.”

“So am I,” said Johnny.

“Oh, but mamma wouldn’t like us to go out; you know she wouldn’t,” said Mary quickly.

“She wouldn’t like us not to thank the fireman, either,” spoke Johnny. “I guess this is one of those most extra-extra-extraordinary occasions she spoke of, like the house falling down, so I’m going.”

Then he put on his hat and coat, and Tommy did the same.

“Well, if you two are going, I’m not going to stay here alone,” said Mary. “I’ll come also.”

Well, Suzette wasn’t there to stop them, and in another minute away the Trippertrot children were tripping and trotting again. They just couldn’t seem to stay home, could they?

They looked up the street, but they couldn’t see the kind fireman. Then they looked down the street, but they couldn’t see him there, either.

“I know what we’ll do,” said Tommy. “We’ll walk along until we come to the fire-house where he lives, and then we’ll thank him.”

So, hand in hand, they went down the street, looking for the fire-house. Pretty soon they met a man.

“Can you please tell us where to find the fireman?” asked Tommy politely.

“Why, is your house on fire?” asked the man quickly.

“No, but the chimney was, and the kind fireman put it out, but we forgot to thank him, and now we’re looking for him,” said Mary.

“Oh, well, the fire-house is just around the corner, and down the street a little way,” said the man. “But don’t get lost,” and he smiled at them.

“I guess he knows we’re the Trippertrots,” spoke Johnny. “But we won’t get lost this time.”

Pretty soon they were at the fire-house where the firemen live, and where they keep the fire-engine and the horses. There were some firemen in front of the place, so Tommy went up to them and said:

“If you please, we want to thank the kind fireman who put out the blaze in our chimney, because we forgot it when he was at our house. But I don’t see him here,” the little Trippertrot boy went on, as he looked among all the firemen, and couldn’t pick out the special one he wanted.

“Oh, yes,” said the captain of the firemen, “that was George. He telephoned to me that he had put out a chimney fire on his way home to dinner. You see, he hasn’t yet come back,” the captain said to the children, “but if you would like to stay here a while he will soon come, and you can thank him.”

“Shall we stay?” asked Mary of her brothers.

“Yes,” said Johnny and Tommy quickly, but they didn’t look at Mary, for they were looking through the doorway at the shining fire-engine and the big brass bell on the wall.

“But maybe we’ll get lost, and mamma wouldn’t like us to stay here,” went on Mary.

“Oh, we can’t get lost in a fire-house,” said Tommy, and he wished the horses would run out, so he could see them.

“Besides, I guess the firemen know where our house is,” said Johnny. “You do, don’t you?” he asked of the captain. “It’s a house with a red chimney on it.”

“I guess I can find it,” answered the captain, with a laugh, and all the men laughed, too. Then the children went inside the fire-house, and all of a sudden a big bell began to ring.

Ding! Dong! Cling! Clang!

Those firemen rushed about like anything, and the captain grabbed up the children and set them on a table, and the horses ran out and hitched themselves to the shining engine. Then men and horses ran out with the engine, and there the Trippertrots were--left all alone in the fire-house.

ADVENTURE NUMBER TEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE FUNNY BOY

“Why, where in the world do you s’pose all the horses and the men went to?” asked Mary Trippertrot, as she looked at her two brothers, who, like herself, were on top of the table where the fireman captain had set them. “Where did they go in such a hurry?”

“To a fire, of course,” answered Tommy. “Whenever the bell rings there is a fire, and the horses and the men have to take the engine to it.”

“Does the engine want to see the fire?” asked Johnny.

“No. It wants to squirt water on it and put it out,” replied his brother.

“Do the firemen have to go to a fire even at night?” asked Mary.

“Of course,” replied Tommy.

“Then I should think they’d take out the bell after supper, or fix it so it couldn’t ring, and make them go to fires,” went on Mary. “I shouldn’t like to go out in the dark. Why, some nights it rains or snows!”

“Oh, ho! That doesn’t make any difference to a fireman,” said Tommy. “Firemans is always brave; aren’t they, Johnny?”

“Of course,” replied Johnny. “And some one makes the bell ring in the fire-house, so they will know where the fire is, and go to put it out, same as the one put out the fire in our chimney.”

“That’s so,” spoke Mary. “I wonder when he is coming back? He missed going to this fire.”

“Oh, he’ll be along pretty soon,” said Tommy. “We’ll just wait here. The bell may ring some more, and besides, I haven’t seen half the things. I guess we can get down off the table now.”

“But do you think we ought to stay?” asked Mary, who wasn’t exactly sure that they were doing right.

“Of course we must stay,” said Johnny. “Why, we haven’t thanked the fireman yet for doing us that favor, and mamma wouldn’t want us to come home until we had done it.”

“That’s right,” added Tommy. “Why, don’t you remember once Mrs. Smith gave me a piece of cake, and I forgot to thank her, and came home, and mamma sent me back to tell Mrs. Smith I was much obliged? And I’m real glad I went back, for she gave me a second piece of cake. Oh, yes, we must always be polite in this world.”

“Yes; and now let’s look at all the shiny things,” suggested Johnny.

So he and his brother and sister went all around inside the fire-engine house. Pretty soon the fireman came in who had put out the chimney fire in the Trippertrot home.

“Why, bless me!” he exclaimed in surprise. “Everybody has gone to another fire, and I must go, too!” And he was about to run out on the street again, to find where the fire was, when Mary said:

“Oh, but if you please, couldn’t you first wait until we thank you, and then can’t you take us home? For I’m afraid we’ll get lost if we go by ourselves. We’re always getting lost, you know. But we forgot to thank you, so we came here to do it.”

“Bless me! That was kind of you,” said the fireman. “But I really haven’t time to stay, for I must go and help the captain and the men put out this other fire. I really can’t stay.” And once more he was about to run off.

“Quick! Thank him, Johnny and Tommy!”

“We thank you!” said Tommy and Johnny together, making two low bows.

“And so do I thank you for not letting our chimney burn up,” said Mary, making her nicest bow.

“Well, you’re welcome, I’m sure,” replied the fireman. “But really, now, I must hurry away.”

“Oh, I just know we’ll be lost!” cried Mary.

“Hold on! Wait a minute!” exclaimed the fireman. “I have an idea. Here!” he called to a funny-looking boy who just then came into the fire-house. “Jiggily, will you please take these children home, so they won’t get lost? I put out a chimney fire in their house to-day, and they came here to thank me. You take them home. You know where the Trippertrot house is, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” said the funny boy. “I can take them home, all right, and I’ll be glad to do it.”

“Then I can go to this other fire,” said the fireman, and away he ran, like Tom-Tom the piper’s son, waving his hand to the children as he hurried along the street.

“Come on, little ones!” called the funny boy. “I’ll see you safely home.”

“Is your name Jiggily?” asked Mary, and she didn’t quite know whether she liked the funny boy or not, for he was very funny-looking.

He had on a funny suit, partly green and partly yellow, and his nose was stubby and short and turned up at the end, as if it was always trying to fly up to the stars; but the boy looked kind, and he was always laughing or smiling.

“Yes, my name is Jiggily,” he said to Mary, as they all walked out of the fire-engine house.

“Haven’t you any other name?” asked Tommy.

“Oh, yes, of course,” answered the funny boy. “My other name is Jig; so you see my whole name is Jiggily Jig.”

“How did you get that name?” inquired Johnny.

“Why, they call me that because I can dance a jig,” said the funny boy. “Would you like to see me?”

“Indeed we would,” spoke all the Trippertrot children together, and then and there that funny boy did a funny little dance in front of the fire-engine house. And a little black poodle dog that was running past in the street saw him, and would you ever believe it, if I didn’t tell you? but that dog tried to dance just as Jiggily Jig was doing.

But, bless you, all of a sudden the doggie slipped on a piece of banana skin, and he almost fell down. He would have, too, only Jiggily Jig caught him by the tail and stood him on his feet again--on the dog’s feet, you understand, not those of Jiggily Jig--which shows you that you must never, never throw banana skins on the sidewalk, as they are very slippery.

“Oh, that was a very nice dance,” said Mary, who went to dancing school sometimes.

“Can you do anything else?” asked Tommy, and he wished the funny boy would come and live with them.

“Yes, I can whistle on my fingers,” said Jiggily Jig. So he put his fingers in between his lips, just as if he was going to eat a piece of pie, only, of course, he didn’t really have any pie, or cake, either, and then the funny boy whistled as loudly as an automobile horn can toot.

“Oh, my!” cried Mary, and she had to put her hands over her ears, because Jiggily Jig whistled so loudly.

“My, that was fine!” cried Johnny and Tommy, who wished they could whistle that way.

“Can you do anything else?” asked Johnny.

“Yes. I can stand on my head and wiggle my feet in the air,” answered Jiggily Jig; and before anybody could stop him, even if they had wanted to, which, of course, they didn’t, that funny boy was standing on his head in front of the engine-house, and he was waving his feet in the air, as easily as a baby can wiggle its pink toes.

“Oh, that’s great!” cried Tommy and Johnny together.

“Yes; I’m going to try it,” said Johnny.

“No! You mustn’t!” exclaimed his sister. “You might slip, and get dirty.”

“Yes, and you might slip and also get hurt,” said Jiggily Jig. “The best place to try that trick, until you learn how, is safely at home, in the middle of the bed. Then, if you fall, you won’t get hurt.”

“I’m going to do it as soon as I get home,” said Johnny.

“Do you know any more tricks?” asked Tommy.

“Oh, my gracious goodness me sakes alive!” cried Mary, shaking her finger at her brothers and the funny boy. “Please don’t show them any more tricks, or we’ll never get home to-day. Can’t you take us home now, Jiggily Jig?”

“Oh, yes,” answered the funny boy. “I forgot where we were going. Come along, little ones.”

So along the street they went, the Trippertrots and Jiggily Jig. But they couldn’t go very fast, because every once in a while Jiggily Jig would have to stop and dance, and, of course, he couldn’t walk then. And sometimes he would whistle on his fingers, and all the dogs in all the streets for half a mile around would think he was whistling at them, and they’d come running up, wagging their tails; and, of course, when there were a whole lot of dogs around them the children couldn’t walk at all.

And then, again, Jiggily Jig would stand on his head, and that would make a crowd of people come around; and then, too, the Trippertrots couldn’t walk on through the crowd.

“Oh, we’ll never get home, at this rate!” said Mary, and she felt a little bit like crying, for she thought her mamma would be in the house by this time, and would worry because her little children weren’t home.

“Yes, we will soon be there,” said Jiggily Jig, as he looked around to see if he could locate the Trippertrot house. But he couldn’t yet discover where it was.

“I think it must be around the next corner,” said the funny boy at last. “Come on. We will soon be there.”

Well, they turned the corner, but still the Trippertrot home wasn’t in sight, and even Tommy and Johnny were beginning to be worried now, when, all of a sudden, they saw coming toward them a man pushing a little wagon on two wheels, and on the wagon were a lot of pies; and behind the man was another queer-looking boy, almost like Jiggily Jig.

“Oh! Who is that?” cried Mary.

“Why, the man pushing the wagon is a pieman,” said Jiggily Jig.

“And who is the boy?” asked Johnny.

“Why, that is Simple Simon,” answered Jiggily Jig. “You know he used to be in Mother Goose’s book. ‘Simple Simon met a pieman going to the fair. Said Simple Simon to the pieman, let me taste your ware.’ That’s who the boy is.”

“Oh, how glad I am to meet them!” cried Mary.

“And is the pieman going to a fair or circus?” asked Johnny.

“No, he is just coming back, because the circus is over!” exclaimed Simple Simon. “But he’s got lots of pies left. Hey, Jiggily Jig!” called Simple Simon to the funny boy. “Let’s see who can turn the most somersaults.”

And then those two funny boys began turning somersaults down the street, going over and over, faster and faster, and getting farther and farther away from the Trippertrots.

“Oh, he’s gone--Jiggily Jig is gone, and we’ll never get home!” cried Mary.

“Never mind,” said the kind pieman, “I think I can take you home. Come with me.”

ADVENTURE NUMBER ELEVEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE PIEMAN

The Trippertrot children stood on the sidewalk, looking after Jiggily Jig, the funny boy, and Simple Simon, turning somersaults. Then the Trippertrot children looked at the pieman.

“Whatever shall we do?” asked Mary. “Oh, I wish we had never left the house when mamma told us not to! What shall we do?”

“Go with the pieman, of course,” answered Johnny.

“Yes, and maybe he’ll give us each a pie, and mamma or Suzette could pay him when he gets to our house. I’m very hungry,” spoke Tommy.

“So am I,” said Johnny.

“And I guess I am also,” added Mary.

“Why, bless your hearts!” exclaimed the kind pieman. “Hungry, eh? That will never do! I can’t bear to see hungry children. Step right up to the pie wagon, and help yourselves. I have apple pie, peach pie, lemon pie, cocoanut pie, orange pie, cranberry pie, and even sawdust pie, but I wouldn’t like to give you any of that last. Sawdust pie is very hard to eat.”

“Who does eat sawdust pie?” asked Mary, wondering what it looked like.

“Oh, sawdust pie is for sawdust dolls,” said the pieman. “I make it especially for them. That’s really the only thing they can eat. But what kind would you children like--lemon, peach, custard----”

“Oh, I just love custard pie!” interrupted Johnny, smacking his lips.

“So do I!” cried Tommy.

“And mamma says it’s very good for us,” added Mary.

“Only--only,” spoke Tommy slowly, “we haven’t any money to pay you with just now, Mr. Pieman.”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter in the least,” spoke the kind pieman, winking both his eyes, one after the other.

“But when Simple Simon wanted to taste of your pies you made him show you first his penny,” said Johnny.

“And he didn’t have any,” added Mary.

“Oh, but _that_ was Simple Simon,” said the pieman, with a laugh. “He’s different, Simon is. Why, he’d eat every pie on my wagon if I didn’t make him show me his penny every now and then. And sometimes he loses it, and then he can’t have any pie for a week. But I don’t want any money from you Trippertrot children.”

“What kind of pie does Simple Simon like best?” asked Tommy, as he went close up to the pie wagon, and saw that there were several large custard pies on it.

“Oh, he’ll eat almost any kind,” replied the pieman, “but most especially he likes a Christmas pie, the kind I always make for little Jack Horner, who sits in a corner. Yes, Simon is very fond of Christmas pies, with sugar plums in them.”

“Do you make pies for Jack Horner?” asked Johnny.

“To be sure,” answered the pieman, “else he wouldn’t have any to stick his thumb in. But come, now, choose your custard pie, and after you eat it we’ll travel on and see if you can find your home.”

“Why, don’t you know where it is?” asked Mary.

“No,” answered the pieman. “I thought you did.”

“Oh, there we go again!” cried Tommy. “We’re lost once more! Jiggily Jig knew where our house was, but he’s gone off!”

“Yes, he’s gone off, sure enough,” agreed the pieman, and he looked down the street, but he couldn’t see either Jiggily Jig or Simple Simon.