Chapter III: Part 3

“No, but we’re lost ourselves,” went on Mary. “Do you boys know which way to go home?”

“No,” answered Tommy, “I don’t.”

“Me either,” said Johnny. “We surely are lost again, and we have the postman’s letter, and that’s lost, too.”

“Oh, we must be very careful of that letter,” said Mary. “We must keep it safe. Here, Tommy, you had better let me carry it. Boys are such careless creatures. I’ll put it in my pocket.”

“Huh! We’ve got more pockets than you have,” declared Johnny, but Mary took the letter and put it in her coat pocket.

“Now we must decide what to do,” the little Trippertrot girl said. “It will soon be night, and we ought to be home, but we can’t find where we live. So let’s sit down on this doorstep, and maybe a policeman will come along and take us back to papa and mamma.”

So down they sat on the cold stone steps, and they looked up and down the street for a kind policeman, but they saw none. And they were--lost again--with a lost letter. Oh, wasn’t it dreadful? But don’t worry. I’ll help them all I can. You just wait for the next story and see what happens.

ADVENTURE NUMBER TEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE MILKMAN

“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Mary Trippertrot, after a while, “if we didn’t want a policeman one would be sure to come along, but when you do want one, there never is any. I wonder what we had better do?”

“Well, I know what we _hadn’t_ better do,” spoke Tommy, her brother, quickly.

“What is that?” asked Johnny, Mary’s other brother.

“We hadn’t better go any farther,” answered Tommy, “or else we’ll be more lost than we are now.”

“We can’t be any _more_ lost,” replied Mary, quickly. “But I think we had better stay here until something happens.”

“Well, I wish it would happen very soon,” said Tommy. “Oh, if only the old fisherman, or Jiggily Jig, the funny boy, or even Simple Simon, or the pieman, would come along now they might show us the way home.”

So they looked up and down the street, but they saw no one, and then, all at once, they heard a jolly whistle.

“Oh, there’s the postman!” cried Mary, jumping up. “Now we can give him back the letter he dropped out of his bag, and he will take us home.”

“But that doesn’t sound like the postman,” spoke Tommy.

“I don’t think so either,” added Johnny.

“Then I wonder who it can be?” asked Mary, for there was no letter-man to be seen. “Who whistled? Is somebody playing a trick?”

“I did!” cried a jolly voice, and, just as true as I’m telling you, out from behind a telegraph pole danced Jiggily Jig, the funny boy. “I whistled,” he said, and then he turned two somersaults, one after the other, and laughed in such a jolly way, that the Trippertrots didn’t in the least mind being lost.

“Where did you come from?” asked Mary.

“From behind the telegraph pole,” answered Jiggily Jig.

“And where have you been?” inquired Tommy.

“Behind the telegraph pole,” said Jiggily Jig. “Oh, I was there ever so long, watching you children, but I wasn’t sure you were the Trippertrots, so I didn’t want to come out.”

“Where are you going?” asked Johnny.

“I’m going back behind the telegraph pole, when I do what I can for you,” replied Jiggily Jig. “I live there, you know.”

“What, not behind a telegraph pole?” asked Mary. “You don’t mean to tell me you live _there_!”

“Why not, I’d like to know?” asked Jiggily Jig. “People live in houses, when telegraph poles are in _front_ of them, so why shouldn’t I live _behind_ a telegraph pole? Come here, and I’ll show you.”

So tripping, and leaping, and dancing, and jumping, Jiggily Jig led the Trippertrots to the telegraph pole, and there, as true as I’m telling you, was the cutest little house you could imagine. It was made out of a whole lot of little dolls’ houses built into one, and there was a front porch, and steps with an upstairs to it, and a chimney on the roof, and doors and windows, and everything that is found in a regular house.

“Oh, how lovely!” cried Mary, in delight.

“Yes, it’s fine!” exclaimed Tommy and Johnny.

“Who made it?” asked Mary.

“I did,” replied Jiggily Jig, proudly. “I would ask you to come in, and have lunch with me,” the funny boy went on, “but to tell you the truth, as I always do, the house is only big enough for one to get in at a time. So we would have to take turns going in to lunch.”

“Oh, we shouldn’t mind that!” said Tommy, quickly, for he was hungry.

“Not in the least,” added Johnny.

“And you could go in to lunch first,” went on Mary, for she was also hungry.

“Oh, there’s no use thinking about it,” said Jiggily Jig, with a sigh, “for, to tell you the truth again, there is nothing to eat for any of us, so there is no manner of use going in.”

“Oh, that’s too bad!” exclaimed Tommy, and he was more hungry than ever, and so were Mary and Johnny.

“Well, maybe I’ll have something by supper time, if you stay around long enough,” went on Jiggily Jig. “But it seems to me that you are rather sad. Is there anything I can do for you? Are you lost again?”

“Yes,” replied Mary, “we are. And this letter is lost, too,” and she gave the funny boy the one the postman had dropped.

“Oh, that letter is an easy matter,” said Jiggily Jig. “First I will take it to where it belongs, and then I will take you home.”

“But you don’t know where we live!” objected Mary. “You didn’t the last time, you know.”

“I think I know this time,” spoke Jiggily Jig. “Wait until I look at the writing on the letter,” and he squinted at it upside down.

“Why, you can’t read it that way, can you?” asked Tommy. “I can read some letters in my picture book, but I couldn’t if I turned them upside down.”

“Why, it’s easy if you know how to do it,” spoke Jiggily Jig. “To read a thing upside down, you have only to stand on your head, like this,” and then, as quickly as a cat can wash her face with her red tongue, the funny boy gave a jump and there he was, standing on his head, and reading the letter that way.

“Oh, ho!” he exclaimed. “Now I see where it belongs. I will soon take it there, and soon take you home. Come along, little Trippertrots,” and he started off up the street, holding Mary by the hand.

“Oh, but aren’t you going to lock your house that stands behind the telegraph pole?” asked Mary. “Some one might get in while you are away.”

“No, I won’t bother to lock it,” said Jiggily, “but I have a better plan. Here, watch me.” Then he took hold of a rope, that was fastened around the chimney of his house, and the rope went up over the telegraph wires, and came down on the other side. “I’ll just hoist my house in the air,” said Jiggily Jig, “and then I’d like to see any one get in.” So he pulled on the rope, and up went the house, swinging and dangling in the air. Then Jiggily fastened the rope around the telegraph pole, and left it there.

“I don’t think that’s a very good way,” said Tommy. “Some one might come along, untie the rope, let your house down to the ground, and go in it. Then you couldn’t get in when you came back.”

“Ah, I never thought of that,” said Jiggily. “Wait, I’ll fix that.” So he took a piece of paper and he wrote on it a little message like this:

PLEASE DON’T LET MY HOUSE DOWN, OR GO IN IT.

“There, that will make it safe,” he said. “Now come along, little ones, and we shall see what will happen next.”

So off down the street he led the Trippertrots, but it was rather hard for them to keep up with Jiggily Jig, for he was either dancing, or skipping, or turning somersaults the whole livelong time, and sometimes he was out in the street, and sometimes on the sidewalk.

“Goodness!” thought Mary, “I hope we don’t meet any one who knows us, or they’ll think we’ve gone out walking with a circus clown, though, of course, Jiggily Jig is very nice.”

But Mary didn’t meet any of her friends. In fact, there seemed to be no one on the street, not even a policeman--only the Trippertrot children and Jiggily Jig.

“Are we anywhere near the house where the letter belongs, Jiggily?” asked Mary, after a while.

“I don’t know, I’ll look,” answered the funny boy, and then he turned the letter upside down again, and stood on his head to read the address on the envelope. “Yes, we will be there pretty soon,” he said.

Then he and the Trippertrots went on some more, but they couldn’t go very fast, for, every once in a while, Jiggily would forget where the letter belonged, and he would turn it upside down, and stand on his head to read it, and all this took time.

“Why don’t you hold it right side up when you read it? Then you won’t have to stand on your head,” suggested Mary, who was getting tired and hungry.

“That would be a good way, I guess,” answered the funny boy. “I’m glad you spoke of it, for I would never have thought of it.”

After that they got along better, and pretty soon they came to a fine, large house.

“I think this is where the letter belongs,” said Jiggily. “I’ll go in and inquire, anyhow. The old fisherman lives here.”

“Oh, can we go in and see him?” cried all the Trippertrots together, for they liked the funny old man.

“No, I’m sorry, but you can’t,” answered Jiggily. “He is busy fishing, up in the bathtub, and he doesn’t want to be bothered. But if the letter doesn’t belong here, he can tell me where to take it.”

“And can he tell you how to take us home?” asked Tommy.

“Oh, yes, surely. You wait here until I come back,” and with that Jiggily went up the front steps and rang the bell. But he didn’t wait for any one to come to the door, for, seeing a window on the porch open, he just gave a somersault and went in that way.

“Oh, what a queer way to go in a house!” exclaimed Tommy, as he looked at the window through which Jiggily Jig had vanished.

“Yes, I think it’s real jolly,” said Johnny.

“I don’t think it’s very polite,” remarked Mary, “but then I suppose Jiggily means it all right. It’s just one of his funny ways. Oh, dear, I wish he’d hurry out. Let’s sit down and wait. I wish we were home.”

Tommy and Johnny did, too, and they hadn’t been sitting there very long, waiting for Jiggily, when, all at once, up drove a milk wagon, and out jumped the milkman, with a whole lot of bottles of milk in a little wire basket.

“Oh, you’re here, are you?” the milkman asked, of the Trippertrots, with a jolly laugh.

“Yes, did you expect to see us?” inquired Mary, for she had never seen that milkman before, that she could remember.

“Well, I generally expect to find you somewhere along where I drive,” went on the milkman. “Your papa has told me about you, and how you run away so much.”

“Oh, then, you know us!” exclaimed Tommy, in delight.

“To be sure I do,” was the milkman’s answer. “Why, I leave milk at your house every morning. Of course I know you, and sooner or later I’ve been expecting to find you.”

“That’s funny, we never saw you at our house,” said Johnny.

“No, but that’s because I come around so early in the morning, so your papa can have cream in his coffee,” went on the milkman. “But what are you doing here?”

Then the Trippertrots told him how they had run out to give the lost letter to the postman, and how they had become lost themselves, and how Jiggily Jig had started home with them, and how they had reached the fisherman’s house.

“But he’s in there now with the letter, and he’s been gone some time, and we’re tired,” sighed Mary.

“I know just how you feel,” said the kind milkman. “Well, I’ll soon fix it all right. I’ll go in to leave the bottles of milk for the old fisherman. He pours it in the bathtub, and fishes in it. Sometimes he catches eels, and sometimes bits of cheese or butter. It doesn’t much matter to him.

“But when I come out I’ll drive you home, and you won’t have to worry any more. Now you go hop in my wagon, and I’ll be out very shortly.”

“And will you tell Jiggily Jig that we’re much obliged to him, and that you’ll take us home?” asked Tommy.

“To be sure I will,” answered the milkman, and then he went around the side of the house to leave the bottles of milk, while Mary and Johnny and Tommy ran and got in the milk wagon, cuddling down in the straw that was on the floor.

And, oh! how nice and warm and comfortable it was there.

“We’ll soon be home now,” said Mary, drowsily, for she was very tired.

“Yes,” said Tommy and Johnny together, and they, too, were very sleepy, and, before you could count fifty backwards, the three Trippertrot children were slumbering in the milk wagon.

ADVENTURE NUMBER ELEVEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE LITTLE BABY

All of a sudden Mary woke up. She looked out of the little door in the wagon, and she saw houses and trees and telegraph poles moving quickly by.

“My goodness!” exclaimed the little Trippertrot girl, “I wonder why everything is going so fast?”

“What’s that?” politely asked Tommy, as he awakened, when he heard his sister speaking. “What’s the matter, Mary?”

“Are we home yet?” asked Johnny, in his sleepy voice, and he cuddled down farther into the warm straw.

“No, we’re not home, as far as I can see,” answered Mary, looking out of the wagon again, “but everything is sailing past me so very fast--trees, and houses and people and telegraph poles and----”

“Why, it’s us that are sailing!” cried Tommy, when he had taken a peep. “It’s just like riding in a railroad train, when you look out of the window, and you see everything flying past--horses and cows and sheep and farms and fences and trees and telegraph poles and everything. We are moving, Mary, and not the things on the street.”

“That’s right!” said Johnny, when he had peered out.

“Oh, my goodness!” cried Mary. “Then the milkman’s horse must be running away with us, and the milkman isn’t here! Just take a look, Tommy dear, and see if it isn’t so.”

So Tommy looked, and then he cried out:

“Say, I should think he _was_ running away! He’s going so fast that you can’t notice his legs move.”

“Really?” asked Mary.

“Look for yourselves and see,” invited Tommy, so Mary and Johnny looked, and, surely enough, the horse was running as fast as he could along the street, pulling the milk wagon after him, and the three Trippertrot children were inside, down in the warm straw.

“Oh, dear!” cried Mary. “How did it happen?”

“I don’t know,” answered Tommy. “Perhaps a little dog barked at the horse, and he ran away.”

“Who ran, the horse or the dog?” asked Johnny.

“The horse, of course,” replied Tommy, “and he’s running away now.”

“And with us, too; he’s running away with us!” said Mary. “I wonder where he’ll take us?”

“Maybe he’ll take us home,” spoke Tommy. “You know the milkman said he left milk at our house every morning, before we were out of bed, and maybe the horse knows where our house is. We’ll just stay in the wagon, and see what happens.”

“Well, if the horse doesn’t bring us to our house, he may go to his own stable,” said Johnny. “Then the milkman will come after him, and he’ll find us, and he’ll take us home.”

“Oh, that will be nice,” said Mary. So the three Trippertrot children stayed in the wagon, and the horse kept going on faster and faster, but still it was very nice, for the street was smooth, and they didn’t get shaken up the least bit.

And it was comfortable and warm and cozy down in the straw, and there were lots of bottles. After a bit the children were hungry, so they drank some of the milk.

“We’ll ask mamma or papa to pay the man for it,” said Tommy. “They will, for they like us to drink it.”

All this time the horse was pulling the milk wagon farther and farther away. The children kept peering out, but they couldn’t see any house that looked like theirs, and they thought they must have come a long distance from home.

All of a sudden the Trippertrots heard some one out in the street crying:

“Whoa! Whoa there, horsie!”

Then the milkman’s horse stopped running, and the wagon, of course, stopped also.

“Ha! I wonder who that can be?” asked Tommy.

“I’m going to look and see,” spoke Johnny, so out he peeped and then he cried: “Why, it’s Simple Simon, and the pieman is with him.”

“Really?” asked Mary. “I wonder what they want?”

“We want some milk, if you please,” answered the pieman, putting his head in through the milkman’s wagon window--not through the glass, you understand, or he would have been cut, but through the open window. “I would like some milk,” went on the nice pieman.

“What for?” asked Mary, who always liked to know the reason for everything.

“I have to use it to make pies,” said the pieman. “I am going to make a custard pie for Simple Simon, and I need milk.”

“Oh, yes, I have found my penny, though at first I thought I hadn’t any,” said Simple Simon, “so I am going to buy a pie for little Jack Horner, who sits in the corner. But it isn’t going to be a Christmas pie, and there aren’t going to be any plums in it--only custard. And you have to have milk for a custard pie.”

“Then you can take all you want, but you will have to pay the milkman, because we have no money,” said Mary, and the pieman said he would, as the milkman was a friend of his.

Then the Trippertrots each handed out a bottle of milk to the pieman, and away the milkman’s horse galloped again, pulling the wagon after him.

“I wonder what will happen next?” asked Mary, and hardly had she spoken, than the horse stopped in front of a house that had a red chimney on top, and green shutters on the windows.

“Oh, maybe this is our house!” cried Tommy.

“No, it isn’t,” said Mary, quickly, as she looked out of the wagon. “We don’t live here at all. But since the horse stopped here, maybe he means for us to get out. Perhaps we shall have another adventure here.”

“I’m a little tired of having adventures,” said Tommy. “I want to go home.”

“So do I,” added his brother.

“Well, we’ll just see what is here,” suggested Mary, so they got out of the milk wagon, and started to go up to the house, in front of which the horse had stopped. As soon as they were out of the wagon, the horse laid down in the street, and went to sleep.

“That’s good,” said Mary, when she saw this. “He won’t run away and leave us, as the grocery wagon horse did.”

As the Trippertrot children were going up the steps of the house, to see who lived there, they heard a baby crying. Oh, how sadly that baby cried! and Mary and Tommy and Johnny knew the big tears must be running down its face, for they were once babies themselves, and they knew what happens when you cry.

“Poor little baby!” exclaimed Mary. “I wonder what’s the matter with it?”

“Maybe a pin is sticking it,” suggested Tommy.

“Maybe it can’t find its rattlebox,” said Johnny.

And just then the door of the house opened, and out came a nice lady.

“I heard what you children said,” she exclaimed, “and the trouble with my baby is that he is hungry.”

“Why don’t you give him something to eat, then?” asked Johnny.

“I do,” answered the lady. “I sent the nurse girl to the store for some milk, but she has been gone an hour, and is not back yet, and my baby is crying with hunger. I can’t see what keeps that girl.”

“Maybe she is lost, the same as we are,” said Mary.

“Oh, you poor little dears! Are you lost?” asked the nice lady. “Then come right in the house and get warm.”

“And may we see the baby?” asked Mary, who loved little children.

“Oh, yes,” said the lady, so she took them into the parlor, where the baby was lying in a cradle. Oh! it was the loveliest baby you can imagine! It had such cute little hands and feet, and such blue eyes, and it was all rosy and dimples, and it smelled just like talcum powder perfume.

“Oh, isn’t it a dear!” exclaimed Mary.

“Wah! Wah! Wah!” cried the baby, all of a sudden, as it took hold of Mary’s little finger.

“Poor little dear, he’s hungry, and I can’t see what keeps that nurse girl who went for the milk,” said the lady. “Oh, where can I get something to eat for my baby?”

“Why, we have a whole wagonful of milk!” cried Tommy.

“Of course,” said Johnny. “It belongs to the milkman, but his horse ran away with us.”

“And you can have all the milk you want for your baby,” went on Mary. “Tommy, you and Johnny go and bring in some bottles, please.”

So the Trippertrot boys did this, and soon the lady had warmed some milk for the baby, and then it wiggled its pink toes, and held tight hold of Mary’s little finger, and drank the milk out of a bottle just as any baby should.

“Oh, he’s too sweet and cute for anything!” cried the little Trippertrot girl. “I wish he was mine.”

“Well, I can’t give up my baby,” said the nice lady, “but some day you may come, and take him out in his carriage. But I am sorry to hear that you are lost. Don’t you know where your home is?”

“No, we never do,” answered Tommy. “We’re the Trippertrots, you know.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard of you,” said the lady. “Well, perhaps I can think of some way to send you home.”

And all of a sudden there was a noise out in the street, and Mary, looking from the window, cried:

“There goes the milkman’s horse! He’s running away.”

And the next moment there was a knock on the door, and in came the old fisherman who used to catch fish in the bathtub.

“Oh, how glad I am that I have found you,” said the old fisherman to the children. “I have been looking all over for you. Now I will take you home.” And then what do you think? He took his fishpole and began fishing in the baby’s carriage!

ADVENTURE NUMBER TWELVE

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE BABY CARRIAGE

When the baby’s mamma saw the queer old fisherman fishing in the baby’s carriage she cried out:

“Oh, you funny man! Why are you doing that?”

“Hush!” exclaimed Mary Trippertrot, in a whisper, “don’t disturb him, please. He always fishes in strange places, and you should see the queer things he catches.”

“Yes,” went on Tommy, “once he fished up an umbrella and a pair of rubber boots from a little lake.”

“And a raincoat, and right after that it began to rain, and we put the things on--that is, the boots and raincoat--and held the umbrella over us, and we didn’t get wet, and we went to the house of the false-face man,” said Johnny, almost out of breath.

“My! My! What queer children you are, and what odd adventures you must have had,” said the baby’s mamma, while the baby lay in the crib and drank the milk from the bottle.

“Oh, we are the Trippertrots, and we are always getting lost, and having funny things happen to us,” said Mary. “This time we got lost because we ran out after the postman, to give him back a letter he had dropped, and Jiggly Jig found us, and then he went in a house, and the milkman told us to get in his wagon.”

“Yes, and the milkman’s horse ran away with us, and here we are,” finished Tommy, for by this time Mary was out of breath.

“And I wonder where the fisherman will take us?” spoke Johnny.

“He said he’d take us home,” replied Tommy. “Ah, he’s caught something!” he cried, for at that moment the funny old fisherman, who had not spoken since he began fishing, pulled up his hammock-hook and line, and there, dangling on the end of it, was a baby’s pink knitted sock.

“Ah, ha!” exclaimed the old fisherman. “I rather thought I would catch something this time. This is better than a fish,” and making a low bow he handed the baby’s sock to the baby’s mamma.

“Oh, where did you get it?” she asked.

“I fished it up out of the baby’s carriage,” said the old fisherman, with a jolly laugh. “Perhaps I can catch something else if I try.”

“I wish you would,” said the lady. “I have been looking all over for my baby’s pink socks, and I couldn’t find them. I never thought to look in the carriage.”

“Perhaps I can fish up the other one,” said the old fisherman, and then he sat down on the piano stool, and began dangling his hook and line in the baby carriage again, while the baby drank milk from the bottle, and the Trippertrot children and the lady looked at the fisherman. I forgot to tell you that on the end of the fisherman’s line was a hammock-hook. It wasn’t very sharp, and it couldn’t hurt any one, not even a baby’s pink sock, you see.

“There, I think I have something!” cried the fisherman at last, as he pulled up his line again. “The other sock!” he exclaimed, and there, surely enough, dangling from the hammock-hook, was the second pink sock.

“Oh, how very kind of you!” cried the lady. “I wish you would always stay here, and fish for the things that are lost. The baby loses so many things, and then there’s the little dog--he hides things.”

“Oh, we have a dog!” cried Mary.

“His name is Fido!” said Tommy.

“And we have a cat named Ivy Vine,” added Johnny.

“How very nice,” said the lady, while the baby lay in the crib, looked up at the ceiling and blinked his blue eyes. “I will show you our dog,” went on the lady. “His name is Bony.”

“What a funny name!” exclaimed Mary. “Why do you call him that?”

“Because he is so fond of bones,” the lady said. Then she called: “Here, Bony! Bony! Bony!” and in came running a little, fat poodle dog, and he stood up on his hind legs, and wagged his tail, and then he tried to get hold of Tommy’s shoe, to pull it off.

“Why does he do that?” the little Trippertrot boy wanted to know.

“I guess he thinks it’s something he can hide,” answered the lady. “Bony is the greatest dog for hiding things! He carries off my slippers, and my husband’s shoes, and all the baby’s rattleboxes, and hides them in such funny places. Sometimes in the icebox, and sometimes under the parlor chairs, and sometimes even down cellar in the coal-bin.

“That’s why I wish you could stay here and fish for the things that are lost,” the lady said to the nice old fisherman.

“You are very kind,” he answered, with a low bow, “but I can’t stay. I came after the Trippertrot children, to take them home. They’re lost, you know.”

“Oh, yes, so we are, I nearly forgot,” spoke Mary.

“Are you sure you can find our house?” asked Tommy.

“I certainly can,” replied the fisherman, with another jolly laugh.

“But how are we going to get home?” asked Mary. “The milk wagon horse has run away, and we can’t walk, because it is so far. What shall we do?”

“That’s so,” agreed the fisherman, scratching his nose with the hammock-hook that wasn’t sharp. “I could carry you on my back, one at a time, I suppose. That is, I could carry Mary home first, and then come back for Johnny or Tommy, and if I took Tommy next I could carry Johnny last.”

“But we would be pretty late getting home, wouldn’t we?” asked Johnny. “At least, I would be if you took me last.”

“That’s so,” agreed Mary. “Can’t you think of some other way, Mr. Fisherman?”

“Hum!” he said. “If I only had an automobile now, or an airship, we would be all right.”

“Or if we each had a toy green or red balloon, we could take hold of them, and float home,” said Johnny.

“But we haven’t anything like that,” spoke Mary. “Oh, dear, it’s dreadful to be lost! I wonder what we can do, and how you can take us all home at once?”

“I have it!” suddenly cried the baby’s mamma. “Down in our cellar is a great big baby carriage, that I had once when there were twins here, but they are now big children, and don’t need the carriage. I’m sure it would hold you three children very easily, and then the fisherman could wheel you home in it.”

“That’s it!” exclaimed the fisherman. “The very thing! I will soon have the Trippertrots home now, and I hope they never wander away again.”

“No, indeed, we never will!” they all promised at once. But you just wait for some more stories about them, and see what happens. However, now I must tell you about the baby carriage.

“Where did you say the carriage was?” asked the fisherman.

“Down cellar,” answered the lady. “I will get it for you.”

“Oh, no, don’t trouble yourself,” said the fisherman. “I will fish it up,” and, surely enough, he stood at the head of the cellar steps, dangled his line down, and soon he had hooked on to the carriage, and lifted it up. It was a very big one, and would easily hold the three little Trippertrots.

So they got into it, and the lady wrapped a warm blanket over them, and they said good-by to her and to the cute, cunning little baby, and off the old fisherman started with them, wheeling the carriage down the front steps as easily as a kittie cat can lap up her milk.

“Come and see me some time, when you aren’t lost,” called the lady after them, as she waved her hand out of the window.

“We will,” promised Mary and Tommy and Johnny Trippertrot.

Away they went, along the street, the old fisherman wheeling them toward their home. The Trippertrots were tired and sleepy and hungry, for they had been away for some time now.

All of a sudden, as the fisherman was wheeling them, a lady on the street came up and stopped them.

“Oh, may I see the pretty babies in the carriage?” she asked. “I just love babies!”

“These aren’t babies,” said the fisherman, “they are the lost Trippertrot children, and I am taking them home. But you may look at them.”

So the lady looked, and she leaned over to kiss Mary, and the fur thing the lady wore around her neck tickled Tommy so that he sneezed three times.

“How cute!” exclaimed the lady, as she walked away.

Then they went on a little farther, and pretty soon another lady cried out:

“Oh, may I see the pretty babies in the carriage?”

“They aren’t babies--they are the lost Trippertrot children,” said the old fisherman. “But you may see them.”

So this lady looked, and she kissed Mary, and the fur thing she wore on her neck tickled Johnny so that he awakened from his sleep.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said the lady.

Then they went on some more, and a third lady said:

“Oh, may I just have one look at the pretty babies in the carriage?” for she couldn’t see that they weren’t babies, because they were covered up with the blanket, you know.

“These are the lost Trippertrot children,” said the old fisherman. “They were lost, and I am taking them home, but if you will excuse me saying so, I’ll never get there if all the ladies want to look at them.”

Then the third lady leaned over to kiss Tommy, and the feathers in her hat tickled Mary so that she sneezed three times, and part of another one.

“Goodness me!” exclaimed the lady.

“Now I am going to run home with you,” said the old fisherman, and soon he was safe at the Trippertrot house, and my! how glad Mary and Tommy and Johnny were to get back. Their papa and mamma hugged and kissed them, and so did Suzette, the nursemaid, and the children said they would never go away from home again.

But, oh, dear! Just read the next story and see what happened.

ADVENTURE NUMBER THIRTEEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE OLD MAN’S HAT

One very windy day the three little Trippertrots were up in the playroom of their house, looking out of the window and wondering what they could do to have a good time.

“Now I do hope you children will not run off anywhere to-day,” their mamma had said to them as she went downtown to the five-and-ten-cent store to buy a new fur coat--excuse me, I meant a dipper. “Please stay in the house unless something special, extra-extraordinary happens.”

“Oh, yes, we will,” promised Mary; and Tommy and Johnny, her brothers, promised the same thing.

Well, as they were looking out of the window of the playroom, they saw a nice old gentleman crossing the street in front of their house. The old man was going very slowly, because he had rheumatism, I guess, or maybe the epizootic, when all at once, the wind, which was blowing very hard, blew right up under his tall silk hat, and blew it off his head. It almost blew off the hair on the old gentleman’s head, and if it had not been fastened tightly there, something like that surely would have happened.

“Oh, there goes his hat!” cried Tommy.

“And see how it rolls along the street!” exclaimed Johnny. “It’s almost as good as a football,” and he laughed out loud.

“Oh, you shouldn’t laugh when any one is in trouble,” spoke Mary, kindly.

“He can’t hear me,” answered Johnny. “Besides, I am really sorry for him.”

“If you are sorry I should think you would go out and help him catch his hat,” spoke Tommy. And truly, the hat of the old man was now rolling swiftly along the street, where the wind blew it, and the old gentleman was chasing after it--after his hat, I mean, not after the wind. Oh, my goodness me, no, and a basket of onions besides!

“We are not to leave the house--mamma said so,” spoke Mary, firmly.

“But I think this is a special, extra-extraordinary occasion,” declared Tommy. “Mamma would want us to go out and help catch the hat for the old man if she were here. I’m sure she would, for she always likes us to be kind to old people, and that gentleman can’t catch his hat all by himself. He can’t run fast enough.”

“That’s right,” agreed Johnny. “See him run! Oh, see him run!”

And, surely enough, the old gentleman was running after his hat as fast as anything. But, no matter how fast he ran, the wind blew his hat still faster, and it rolled along just in front of him. Every once in a while the old man would think he had the hat, and then the wind would come in a sudden puff, and presto-chango! away the hat would roll again, down the street.

“Oh, we ought to help him!” exclaimed Mary Trippertrot. “There is no one else out in the street to do it.”

“Then I will!” cried Tommy. “I’m going to get his hat for him.”

“And so am I,” added Johnny. “Come on, Mary.”

Then they got ready to run out of doors to help the old man get back his hat.

“Oh, dear, we really oughtn’t to go,” spoke Mary, “for we will be sure to be lost, as we always are. But I can’t let you boys go alone. I must be with you. I suppose this is one of those special, extra-extraordinary occasions, and mamma won’t mind very much.”

So Mary Trippertrot and her brothers, Tommy and Johnny, slipped softly down the front stairs, so Suzette, the nursemaid, wouldn’t see them, and out of doors they went.

“Hurry up!” called Tommy, as he ran on ahead, “the old man is nearly around the corner chasing his hat. We must help him, or his hat will be spoiled.”

“That’s right!” said Mary, and away they raced, forgetting everything that their mamma had told them about not going out of the house. But they wanted to do a kindness, you see.

Pretty soon they turned around the corner, and there, down the street, they saw the old man still chasing after his hat. The Trippertrot children soon caught up to him.

“Well, what do you want, little ones?” the man asked, as he turned around and saw them.

“If you please, sir,” said Mary, “we have come to help you chase your hat.”

“Ha! That is very kind of you,” spoke the old man, in a most polite voice. “I am sure I will get my hat now, with so many of us after it. If only the wind didn’t blow so hard my hat would stop rolling along the ground, and then I could get it alone. But I am glad you have joined me. Come on, now, we’ll see if we can’t race after that hat.”

So on ran the Trippertrots, and on ran the nice old man, after his hat, which the wind was making go faster and faster, just like when you roll a hoop.

“Oh, I’m afraid my hat will be ruined!” cried the old man, as he saw it roll into a puddle of water, and bounce out again. “And it is a nice new hat, and inside the lining is a dollar bill that I was saving to buy a Christmas present for my little grandson.”

“Oh, then we must surely get that hat!” said Mary, and she ran on faster than ever, and Tommy and Johnny Trippertrot also ran faster, and the old man ran as fast as he could.

“Look out!” suddenly cried Mary. “That automobile is going to run over your hat, and if it does it will squash it flatter than a sheet of paper.”

“So it will!” agreed the old man, as he looked up in time to see a big automobile rushing along the street, and his hat was almost under the fat wheels of the car.

“Hi, there, Mr. Auto Man! Stop your machine, if you please!” cried the old man. “Don’t run over my hat!”

And the auto man stopped his car just in time--that is, almost in time--for he just ran over a little part of the rim of the hat, and broke off a small piece.

“Oh, that’s too bad!” exclaimed Mary, as she made a grab for the tall silk hat, but she was just too late.

“Oh, never mind,” spoke the old man, as the hat went rolling on down another street, just as Tom-Tom the piper’s son ran roaring down the street after he took the pig, you know. “I can mend the broken place with court-plaster, if only I can get my hat.”

“We’ll help you,” said Tommy, and then the Trippertrot children ran on faster than ever after the old man’s hat.

But the hat was blown very hard by the wind, which didn’t seem to want to let go of it. Once the hat was nearly blown under a big, heavy wagon, and the wheels almost rolled over it. Then, a little later, some horses almost stepped on it, and one horse thought it was something good to eat, and was going to chew it, only his driver wouldn’t let him.

And then, all of a sudden, along came a trolley car, and this nearly ran over the hat, only the motorman stopped his car in time. He even got off, and tried to grab the hat, but the wind blew it on farther still, for the breeze was very strong.

“Oh, hadn’t we better go back home?” asked Mary, when they had been chasing the hat for some time. “We might get lost.”

“We’re lost now,” spoke Johnny, as he looked around, though he didn’t stop running. “We’ve never been in this part of the city before.”

“Well, if we’re lost we can’t get any more lost than we are,” said Mary. “We might as well keep on, and try to get the hat for the old gentleman. I like him, as he looks so much like the kind fisherman.”

“All right,” agreed Tommy and Johnny, for they also liked the old gentleman. So on they ran, after the old man who was chasing his hat.

Once the hat blew into the canal, and got all wet, and the next minute it blew out and went almost under the wheels of a choo-choo locomotive, but it rolled away just in time.

And then, all of a sudden, the wind gave a big puff, as if it was blowing out a candle, and presto-chango! the hat blew up into a tree, and there it stuck.

“Well, it’s fast, anyhow,” said the old man, who had almost no breath left, after running so far.

“Yes, it can’t go any more, unless the tree blows with it,” spoke Johnny.

“But how are you going to get it down?” asked Tommy.

“Oh, I know,” said Mary. “One of you boys must climb up the tree, or we can borrow a step-ladder from the house next door, and use that.”

“Let me climb!” cried Johnny.

“No, let me,” said his brother.

“You may both climb up,” declared the old gentleman, with a laugh. “I want my hat as quickly as I can get it, for I am catching cold.”

So up into the tree scrambled Johnny and Tommy, and soon they had the old man’s hat safe. It was a little bit battered and torn, by bouncing along so much, but that didn’t hurt it much. Then the old man put it on his head.

All of a sudden Mary began to cry.

“Why, what is the matter?” asked the nice old man. “Are you hungry?”

“No, I am not hungry,” answered Mary, “but we are--lost!”

“And we don’t know our way home!” added Tommy, and he cried, too, but only a little.

“And we’re always getting lost,” went on Johnny, as he started to cry a tear or two. “We’re always getting lost, and this time it was because we chased after your hat.”

“That is too bad,” said the old man. “And, as you have been so kind to me I will be kind to you. Come along, I will take you back home. I know where it is, because my hat blew off right in front of there. Come along, Trippertrots.”

So he brushed the dust off his hat, and put it on his head--put on his hat, I mean, not the dust--and then he took hold of Mary’s hand and Johnny’s, and Johnny took hold of Tommy’s hand, and away they started for the Trippertrot home.

ADVENTURE NUMBER FOURTEEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE CHRISTMAS TREE

For a while they walked on silently.

“Do you think you can find our house for us?” asked Mary, of the kind old man, as she took a closer hold of his hand.

“Oh, I am sure I can,” he said. “It was right in front of your house that the wind blew off my hat, so I won’t easily forget it.”

“Lots of people think they can take us home after we are lost,” said Johnny, “but, somehow or other, they don’t do it.”

“Yes,” added Tommy Trippertrot. “There was Jiggily Jig, the funny boy, who is always dancing, or turning somersaults, and there was the nice, little old lady, and the man who had the pink cow, and the other man who had the dancing bears, and the milkman, and the grocery boy, and the fireman, and the old fisherman----”

“My, my!” exclaimed the old man whose hat had been blown off by the wind. “Do you know as many people as all that?”

“Oh, yes, and more,” spoke Mary. “You see, we are always getting lost, and every one is kind to us, so they start to take us home. But, just as Johnny says, we never seem to get there, except, of course, once in a while.”

“Or, if we do get home, we run out after something or other, and we’re lost again,” said Tommy.

“Well, don’t worry, I’ll take you safely home,” said the man, as he put his hat on his head real tightly, so the wind couldn’t blow it off again.

And then he and the children walked along some more, and, all at once, they came to a toy store. And, oh, what lovely things there were in the windows; toy boats, and toy houses, and dolls, and doll carriages, and toy automobiles, and steam engines that really went “choo-choo!” And there were whirligigs, and clowns that you couldn’t make lie down straight, no matter how you tried, for they always bobbed up again, smiling at you just like the Cheshire cat in the story.

“Oh, what a lovely place!” cried Mary. “Let’s stop here a while, and choose things.”

“Choose things; what do you mean?” asked the man.

“Oh,” said Johnny, “when we haven’t any money we look in the toy shop windows, and we choose the things we’d like to have and make-believe they’re ours. But we always let Mary have first choice, because she’s a girl, you know.”

“That is very nice and polite of you,” said the man. “Boys should always be kind to their sisters, and all other ladies. But since you have no money, and as you have been very kind to help me get my hat, I will take you in the toy shop and buy you each a toy, and you may choose whatever you like, only this will be real, and not make-believe, for you may take the toys home with you.”

“Oh, really?” inquired Mary, in delight.

“Do you mean truly?” asked Tommy, wonderingly.

“And really-truly and truly-really?” asked Johnny, for it was such a strange thing that he wanted to be quite sure about it.

“Oh, yes, this is in earnest,” said the kind man, with a smile. “So come in and pick out what toys you like best. It is near Christmas time, and you can count this as one of your Christmas presents.”

“And may Mary have first choice?” asked Johnny.

“Surely,” said the man, and he was glad that Tommy and Johnny were so kind to their little sister, but then they were most always that way, and I hope you are, too; but of course you are, so I needn’t have said that last part, need I?

And if the window of the toy shop was lovely, the inside of the shop was more beautiful still. Oh! so many toys as there were! It was just like the place where Santa Claus makes all the nice things for the girls and boys. In fact, some of the toys had just come from the workshop of dear old St. Nicholas himself.

“Well, what are you going to choose, Mary?” asked Tommy, of his sister, when they had looked around a bit.

“I--I think I’ll have that nice big doll over there,” said the little girl, after a while, when she had examined many things.

So the toy shop clerk gave Mary the big doll, and the man, whose hat the Trippertrot children had run after, smiled and said:

“Now, Tommy, it’s your turn.”

“I’ll take that nice sailboat,” said Tommy Trippertrot, and the toy shop clerk gave it to him.

“And now what will Johnny have?” asked the kind man.

“Oh, I’ll take that music-box, that plays such pretty tunes,” said the other boy, for the toy shop clerk had wound the box up while the children were looking around, and it played “Yankee Doodle,” and “Home, Sweet Home,” and a funny tune called “Don’t Laugh When You Sneeze, and Don’t Give the Cat Cheese.” Oh! that last is a very fine tune, indeed.

So the toy shop clerk gave Johnny the music-box, and then each of the Trippertrot children had a nice toy, and the man, whose hat the wind had blown off, paid for them, and he and the children went out in the street again.

“Now I will surely take you home,” said the kind man. “We will go down this street, and up another, and across a third, and along a fourth, and then we will be there.”

So along they went, the children looking at their toys, and feeling very happy that Christmas was so near at hand, when, all at once, they heard some one singing around the corner. Then they heard a whistle, and a voice cried:

“Oh, there are the Trippertrot children! How glad I am to see them. Let me take them home, if you please, Mr. Man, for I am sure they are lost,” and there stood Jiggily Jig, the funny boy, who was always dancing.

“Yes, we are lost again,” said Mary Trippertrot, “but this gentleman will take us home, for I am afraid you don’t know the way.”

“Well, perhaps I might get lost, too,” admitted Jiggily. “But, what lovely toys you have! May I see them?”

“Yes, they are Christmas presents,” said Tommy, and then Mary showed her new doll, and Tommy showed his ship, and Johnny showed his music-box, and played a nice little dancing tune on it.

And, no sooner did the music start than Jiggily Jig began dancing, and away down the street he danced, turning over and over in somersaults, until he was out of sight.

“There, you see!” exclaimed Mary, “it’s a good thing we didn’t let him take us home, or we’d never get there.”

“I think so myself,” said the man. Then he led them on a little farther, and, pretty soon, they met the pieman, and Simple Simon was with him, coming from the fair, and the pieman and Simple Simon wanted to take the Trippertrot children home, but they said the hat man had better do it.

And then they met the old fisherman, and the nice old lady, and the pink-cow man, and the dancing-bear man, and each and every one wanted to take the Trippertrot children home, but Mary and her brother said they had rather go with the man whose hat the wind had blown off. So they did, and pretty soon, what do you think?

In a little while the man came to a long, wide street, and he looked at his watch, and said:

“Now I needn’t go any farther, for there is your house right down there. Besides, I haven’t time. I have to catch a train.”

“Do you catch a train just like you catch a ball?” asked Tommy, who wanted to know about lots of things.

“Well, yes,” said the man, with a laugh; “that is, you have to run to catch a train, and sometimes you have to run to catch a ball, so it is much the same thing. But, tell me, can you go home now, when your house is in plain sight?”

“Oh, yes,” answered Mary, and Tommy and Johnny said the same thing, for there, right down the street, they could see their house, and they knew they could easily walk to it.

So they held their toys tightly under their arms, thanked the kind man, said good-by to him, and walked toward their house. And just when they were almost there, and when they could look ahead, and see Suzette, the nursemaid, waving her hand to them, what should happen but that along came a wagon, all loaded with Christmas trees.

You know the kind--nice, tall, green trees, with soft, stickery branches; and on Christmas morning presents grow on the trees, and if the presents are too big they fall down, and you find them on the floor under the tree. Oh, Christmas trees are very wonderful, indeed!