that. Very carefully she made little holes in the three balloons, and,
in another minute, the Trippertrot children were safely down on the
balcony over the front porch of their house, and their papa and mamma
were hugging and kissing them.
“And you must never go away again,” said their mamma.
“We won’t,” said Mary.
“Is the Thanksgiving dinner ready?” asked Tommy.
“For we are very hungry,” spoke Johnny.
“It is nearly ready,” said Suzette.
And then, pretty soon, the Trippertrot family sat down to a fine
Thanksgiving dinner. There was turkey and cranberry sauce, and oysters,
and celery, and nuts, and cake, and oranges, and figs, and cookies, and
oh! ever so many things. I can’t remember half of them.
But the Trippertrots were careful not to eat too much, as that isn’t
proper, and, besides, it makes you ill. So they ate just enough, and
they had a fine time afterward playing many kinds of games.
And then--oh, well, I guess you had better look at the next story, to
see what happened afterward.
ADVENTURE NUMBER FIVE
THE TRIPPERTROTS IN A GROCERY WAGON
“Well, what game shall we play now?” asked Mary Trippertrot, of her
brothers Johnny and Tommy, when they had finished playing the one
called “Please Don’t Step on My Toes.” It was a game Mary made up
herself, and was very nice.
“Oh, I don’t know,” answered Tommy. “Suppose we play ‘Hide the Knitting
Needle’?”
“That’s no fun!” exclaimed Johnny. “Besides, some of us might get stuck
by the needle.”
“That’s so,” agreed Mary. “But what can we do?”
“Oh, I know!” cried Tommy. “We’ll play that nice old game of looking
out of the window and choosing things. We’ll let Mary have first
choice, and maybe she can get an automobile.”
“Oh, goodie!” exclaimed the little Trippertrot girl. “Then we can go
for a ride in it.”
“Oh, but mamma said we weren’t to go out of the house, unless something
special, extra-extraordinary happened,” spoke Tommy, “so we couldn’t go
out in your auto, Mary, even if you are lucky enough to get one.”
“But I only meant to take a _make-believe_ ride in a _make-believe_
auto,” explained the little girl. “Wouldn’t that be all right?”
“I guess it would,” said Johnny. “Anyhow, let’s go to the window, look
out, and see what things we can choose.”
So that is how the three little Trippertrots happened to be looking out
of the window. And, as truly as I’m telling you, the first thing that
came along was a great big red automobile, with large, fat wheels, like
sausages, and Mary cried:
“Oh, that’s mine! That’s mine!”
“Yes,” said Tommy, “and now let’s go for a make-believe ride in it.”
“Oh, but first let’s you and I choose something,” said Johnny to his
brother.
“There comes a horse and carriage,” said Tommy. “I’m going to choose
that for mine.”
“But you can’t take that in my auto,” said Mary. “It’s far too big.”
“So it is,” agreed Tommy. “Wait a minute, there comes a messenger boy
with a box of candy. I’ll choose that.”
“Which, the boy or the candy?” asked Johnny.
“The candy, of course!” exclaimed Tommy, with a laugh. “There might not
be room in the auto for the boy.”
“Well, you’d better be quick about what you’re going to choose,
Johnny!” called Mary, “for my red auto is moving along pretty fast,
and it may be out of our block before we get our ride in it. Hurry up,
Johnny.”
“Well, I’ll choose that fruit-stand across the street,” spoke Johnny.
“That’s nice,” said Mary. “We shan’t be hungry on our trip, anyhow,
with Tommy’s box of candy, and Johnny’s fruit-stand. Come on, now, get
in my auto.”
So the boys made-believe help their sister into the make-believe
auto, and they closed the doors and turned on the gasolene, and away
they went as fast as anything, if you will kindly believe me. Only, of
course, it was only make-believe, pretend riding, you know.
They went to New York, and a place called Osh-Kosh, and to
Mumbly-Bumbly and to Kalamazoo and even part way to the moon, but, of
course, all this while they were really only in the front room of their
house, peeping out of the window.
And then, all of a sudden, Mary looked, and she saw a grocery wagon
on the street, out in front, and the horse hitched to the wagon was
walking slowly along, and there was no one driving him.
“Look at that!” cried Mary. “That horse is running away.”
“I guess you mean he’s _walking_ away,” said Johnny. “He isn’t running.”
“Well, he’s going away, anyhow,” insisted Mary, “and the driver isn’t
there and the horse may bunk the wagon into something, and smash it,
and then the grocery man would lose a lot of money.”
“Well, what can we do about it?” asked Tommy.
“We might go out, and stop the horse from going away,” continued Mary,
“and then we could telephone to the man who owns it, to come and get it
from in front of our house.”
Johnny looked all around the room. So did Tommy. Their papa and mamma
weren’t there. Neither was the nursemaid.
“Do you think going out to stop the horse would be a special,
extra-extraordinary occasion?” asked Tommy, of Mary.
[Illustration: _“Whoa There, Horsie!” She Called_]
“Oh, yes,” she said, “I do. And I think if mamma was here she’d want
us to go out of the house to catch the walk-away grocery wagon and
horse.”
“Then we’ll do it,” decided Tommy. “Come on, Mary and Johnny!”
So out of the house the three little Trippertrots went after the
grocery wagon, and they never stopped to think that they might get lost
again. They wanted to do a kind act, you see, and I think it was very
nice of them; don’t you?
They ran after the walk-away horse, that was now some distance down the
street, and soon the Trippertrots had caught up to him.
“Whoa, horsie!” called Tommy.
“Yes, you must stop,” added Johnny, most politely.
“Because it’s wrong to run away, or even walk away,” said Mary. “We
came to catch you, so your master can find you. Otherwise, you might
get lost, you know.”
“Horses can’t get lost!” declared Tommy.
“They might, when they were little girl or boy horses,” said Mary. “I
should think a little horse could get lost, the same as we do, lots of
times. Whoa there, horsie!” she called, for the grocery horse was still
walking away.
“Well, perhaps ponies can get lost,” admitted Tommy, and just then the
grocery horse stood still, because the three Trippertrot children had
run out right in front of him. I think it was very brave of them; don’t
you?
The horse looked at the children, and the Trippertrots looked at the
horse, and then Mary said:
“Now we ought to tie him to a post, so he can’t get away any farther,
and then go telephone to the man. Otherwise, we might get lost
ourselves.”
“But we don’t know who owns the horse,” said Tommy.
“Yes, there is his name on the side of the wagon,” said Johnny, and,
surely enough, there was the grocery man’s name in big letters.
“What name do you think it is?” asked Mary, of her brothers.
“Oh, how funny of us!” exclaimed Tommy. “None of us can read, because
we’re only in the kindergarten class, so we can’t tell what the name is
on the wagon.”
“I can read!” cried Johnny. “I can read words like ‘cat’ and ‘dog.’”
“But I don’t think the grocery man’s name is either cat or dog,” spoke
Mary.
“Then what are we going to do?” asked Johnny.
“We can tie the horse to a post,” said Mary, “and then we can go home
and tell papa about it, and he can come and read the name for us.”
“That’s a good idea,” declared Tommy. “But what shall we use to tie the
horse to a post? Have you a piece of string in your pocket, Johnny?”
“Yes,” answered his brother, “I have.”
“Oh, you silly boys!” exclaimed Mary. “They don’t tie horses with
string. They use a leather strap. There must be one in the wagon. You
boys climb in and look.”
So Tommy and Johnny climbed up on the wagon step, and crawled back over
the seat, for the horse was kind and gentle, and stood very still,
looking up at the sky now and then, to see if it would rain, I guess.
“I can’t find any strap!” called Johnny, after a while.
“Nor I,” added Tommy. “There are a lot of groceries in the wagon, but
no strap.”
“Oh, I suppose I’ll have to look myself,” said Mary. So she climbed up
into the wagon where her brothers were. She looked in among the boxes
and baskets, and she had just found the strap, which was in among some
oranges, when, all at once, a queer thing happened. The horse suddenly
started to walk away again, pulling the wagon after him, and the
Trippertrot children were in the wagon. So, of course, the horse pulled
them, too.
“Oh!” cried Mary. “We’re having a ride!”
“That’s fine!” exclaimed Johnny.
“Oh, but we mustn’t!” shouted Tommy. “The horse is taking us away from
home, and mamma told us not to go! We must stop him!”
“That’s so,” admitted his brother.
“Whoa there! Whoa! Whoa!” called Mary to the horse. But the horse
wouldn’t stop, and kept on going, taking the Trippertrot children
farther and farther down the street.
“Oh, what shall we do?” asked Mary, of her brothers. “We will be lost
again.”
“I guess we will,” spoke Johnny, but he didn’t seem to mind it very
much.
“Can’t you pull on the lines and make the horse stop?” asked Tommy.
“The lines are too far out,” answered Johnny. “I might fall if I
reached for them.”
“Then call to some one--a policeman or anybody--and ask him to please
stop the horse,” suggested Mary. “Oh, boys! this time it isn’t our
fault that we’re running away; is it?”
“No, indeed,” answered Tommy. “But the horse isn’t running, he is only
walking. Maybe he’ll stop soon.”
“He’s running now,” suddenly exclaimed Johnny, and, surely enough, the
horse began to go faster and faster, giving the Trippertrots a nice
ride, but still taking them farther and farther away from home.
“Oh, we’re lost again!” cried Mary, as she and her brothers sat down
in the back of the wagon, in among the boxes and baskets of groceries.
“I wonder where we will end up?”
But none of the children seemed to know, so they just sat there in the
wagon.
ADVENTURE NUMBER SIX
THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE POOR FAMILY
“Where do you suppose this horse is going?” asked Mary, of her
brothers, after a while.
“Home, I guess,” said Tommy.
“Do you mean to his home, or our home?” asked Johnny. “Because, if he
goes to our home, it’s all right, but if the horse goes to his own
home, why--why----”
“We’ll be lost again, that’s all,” said Tommy, simply.
“Oh, we’re lost now,” cried Mary, as she looked out of the front of the
wagon. “We’re on a strange street, that I never saw before, and I don’t
know how far from home.”
“Well, we’ll get back some time,” said Johnny, “so we don’t need to
worry about it. We always do get home, somehow or other, and perhaps
we’ll have another funny adventure, like being carried up into the air
by the balloons.”
“Oh, I wish we would!” exclaimed Tommy. “Anyhow, I’m hungry, and if an
adventure is going to happen I wish it would be one with something to
eat in it.”
“What! You don’t mean to say you are hungry so soon after our big
Thanksgiving-turkey-dinner, do you?” asked Mary Trippertrot.
“Yes, I--I guess I am,” said Tommy.
“And so am I!” exclaimed Johnny. “But I know where I can get something
to eat.”
“Where? Oh, tell me where!” cried Tommy, eagerly.
“Right in this wagon,” said Johnny. “It’s full of groceries, and we
can eat some of them. There are oranges, and I saw some nuts, and some
candy, and some crackers, and cheese and--and--oh, there is plenty to
eat.”
“But it isn’t ours,” objected Mary, quickly, “and we mustn’t take what
isn’t ours.”
“No, that’s so,” said Johnny, sadly.
“Oh, I know how we can fix it,” spoke Tommy. “We can take what we
want--not too much, of course--and we can keep account of it, and when
we find the man who owns the grocery wagon we can ask papa to pay him
for what we took. I’m sure he will.”
“Yes, I guess he will,” agreed Johnny.
“Besides,” added Mary, “the grocery man might give us some pennies for
stopping his horse from running away, and we could pay him back with
those.”
“Yes, only but we’re _not_ stopping his horse from running away,” said
Tommy, “for he _is_ running as fast as he can.”
And the horse was, but he was on a smooth asphalt street, and the wagon
went so easily that the children didn’t notice how very fast they were
going.
“I wonder if he wouldn’t stop if I asked him please to?” spoke Mary, as
she leaned over the seat.
“You might try,” suggested Johnny.
So Mary did.
“Oh, please, nice horsie, won’t you kindly stop running away with us?”
she asked, in her gentle voice. “We don’t want to get so far away from
home, and it will soon be dark. Please stop.”
But the horse only wiggled his ears backwards and forwards, switched
his tail to and fro, and kept on going.
“It’s no use!” exclaimed Tommy. “He won’t stop, and I’m going to eat.”
“So am I!” added Johnny.
“Then I suppose I may as well, also,” said Mary. “But we must remember
all that we take, so papa can pay the grocery man, or we can pay him,
if he gives us any pennies.”
So the children each took an orange, out of a basket that had a great
many in it, and they took some nuts, and a little candy, and some
grapes, and then Mary opened a big package and she cried out:
“Oh, boys! Look here!”
“What is it?” asked Johnny. “Is Jiggily Jig there?”
“No, but see! It’s a fine big turkey, all ready to put in the oven,”
said Mary.
“And look at the stalks of celery!” shouted Johnny, as he opened
another package.
“And see the bunches of white grapes!” exclaimed Tommy.
“Boys,” said Mary, solemnly, “I see what this is.”
“What is it?” asked Johnny.
“It is Somebody’s Thanksgiving dinner,” said Mary. “That is just what
it is. And, oh, I wonder whose it is? The horse is running away with
us, and with the dinner, and I suppose some one is hungry for it.”
“Well, I’m not hungry--not now,” remarked Johnny, as he ate another
orange.
“Nor I,” added Tommy, as he cracked some more nuts. “But I was a while
ago.”
“I’m not hungry, either,” said Mary; “but, boys, I just wish we could
find the family that needed this dinner.”
“Let’s look out along the street, and maybe we’ll see some one who is
hungry,” suggested Tommy. So they looked out, but they didn’t see
any one, not even a policeman. For it was still Thanksgiving Day, you
remember, and I suppose all the people were still in their houses,
perhaps sleeping after their dinners, or maybe they were at the
football game, or the theatre. Anyhow, there wasn’t a soul to be seen.
“We can’t ask any one,” said Mary, with a sigh. “There’s no one to ask.”
“Well, perhaps the horse knows where the dinner belongs, and he’ll go
there,” spoke Johnny. “He looked to me like a very smart horse.”
“And, maybe after he takes the dinner where it belongs, he’ll take us
back home,” went on Tommy.
“Oh, that would be lovely if he would,” exclaimed Mary.
So the children sat in the back of the grocery wagon, with the boxes
and baskets, and the horse kept going faster and faster on the asphalt
street, and the Trippertrots didn’t know where they would get to
finally, when, all at once, the horse turned off the asphalt, and began
pulling the wagon over the cobblestones.
Rattlety-bang! Rattlety-bang! it went, and the children were all shaken
up, and then, all at once, the horse stopped.
“Well, we’re somewhere!” exclaimed Mary. “I’m glad of it.”
“Yes, but I wonder where we are?” spoke Tommy.
“Can it be our house?” asked Johnny.
“No, there are no cobblestones in front of our house,” replied Mary,
quickly.
Johnny looked out of the front of the wagon. He saw a little house,
not very nice looking, for it was rather ragged, as if it needed a new
suit of clothes, and the chimney was almost falling off the roof, and
the fence in front was full of holes, and, altogether, it was a very
pretty sort of a house indeed.
“What is there?” asked Mary, of her brother.
“This is the place where the Thanksgiving dinner belongs, I guess,”
said Johnny. “The horse stopped here of his own accord, so it must be
the place.”
“Then, as long as the grocery boy isn’t here, we had better carry the
things in,” suggested Tommy. “We can make-believe we are the grocery
boys.”
“I can’t be a boy,” said Mary.
“No, you’ll have to be a grocery girl,” spoke Tommy. “But that will be
all right. I’ll take the turkey, ’cause I’m the strongest.”
“I wish Jiggily Jig, or Simple Simon, or the nice newsboy was here to
help us,” spoke Johnny.
“Oh, we can do it all right,” said his brother. And then, while
the kind horse stood very still, the three Trippertrots took
the Thanksgiving things out of the wagon, and marched up to the
shabby-looking house with them. Tommy put the big turkey down on the
step, and knocked at the door.
A poor-looking woman opened it, and behind her the Trippertrots could
see a whole lot of hungry-looking children. Oh! how very hungry they
were!
“Well, what is it, please?” asked the woman, as she looked at Tommy and
Johnny and Mary Trippertrot.
“If--if you please,” spoke Tommy, as he lifted up the big turkey to
her, “here is your Thanksgiving dinner.”
“My Thanksgiving dinner!” exclaimed the woman, and a few teardrops
came into her eyes, while Mary could hear the hungry children, who
were standing behind her, sort of gasping, and making their tongues
go around inside their mouths. “My Thanksgiving dinner!” said the
woman again. “Bless your dear little heart, I’m not going to have any
Thanksgiving dinner. We--we’re too poor!” she said. “There must be some
mistake. You are at the wrong house. Thanksgiving dinner! Why--why, I
haven’t had a real Thanksgiving dinner since I was a little girl,” and
she turned around to look at her poor little children standing behind
her.
“Well, you’re going to have one now,” said Mary Trippertrot. “This is
yours.”
“No, no!” exclaimed the woman. “You are at the wrong house.”
“It _can’t_ be the wrong house!” cried Johnny. “The grocery horse
stopped here himself, and I guess he knows where the dinner belongs.
Let’s take it in, Tommy and Mary.”
So into the house went the Trippertrots, carrying the Thanksgiving
dinner. Oh, what a dinner it was! There were oranges, and apples, and
nuts, and candy, and white grapes, and bread, and butter, and potatoes,
and the big turkey, of course; and celery, and cranberries, and some
cookies and cakes, and, oh! I couldn’t tell you what else there was!
The table was piled quite full.
“Are you sure it’s for us?” asked the poor woman. “I don’t think we
ought to keep it.”
“Oh--oh, mamma!” cried one of the poor little girls--and there
were about four boys and seven girls in that poor family--“oh,
mamma--don’t--don’t--_please_ don’t send it away. We are _so_ hungry.”
“Humph!” exclaimed Johnny, as he looked out of the window, “you can’t
send it away if you wanted to--not now.”
“Why not?” asked the woman.
[Illustration: _The Trippertrots Carrying the Thanksgiving Dinner_]
“Because the grocery horse has run away again,” answered Johnny. “I
guess he knew what he was doing when he left the dinner here, and now
he’s gone back home. So you can’t send the dinner away. You’ve got to
keep it.”
“Oh, bless your dear hearts, we will,” said the woman, and, oh! how
happy those children were--the poor ones I mean. But, of course, the
Trippertrots were happy, too, because they had done a kindness.
Then the poor woman began to cook the Thanksgiving dinner, and she put
the turkey in the oven to roast nice and brown, and the Trippertrots
were helping her when, all of a sudden, there came a loud knock on the
door of the house where the poor family lived.
“Ha! I wonder who that can be?” asked the poor woman.
“I guess it’s our papa come for us,” said Johnny.
“Who are you, and where do you live?” asked the poor woman.
“We are the Trippertrots, but we don’t know where we live, if you
please,” said Mary.
“Because we are lost--we are always getting lost,” added Tommy. “But
perhaps some one has come for us.”
So the poor woman went to the door, and there stood a boy with a white
apron on.
“Ah, I’ve found you at last!” he said, when he saw the Trippertrots.
“I’m the grocery boy and I’ve been looking all over for you and the
wagon.”
“We’re here, but the horse and wagon are gone,” replied Mary.
“Well, never mind,” said the grocery boy, as he waved his white apron.
“Come with me, if you please.”
ADVENTURE NUMBER SEVEN
THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE GROCERY BOY
“Well, aren’t you coming with me?” asked the grocery boy, as Tommy
stood staring at him. As for Mary, she was looking in the oven, to see
if the turkey was cooking, and it was turning the loveliest brown color
you could imagine. And Johnny Trippertrot was playing spin tops with
one of the boys of the poor family. So, you see, Tommy was the only one
the grocery boy could look at, or talk to.
“Aren’t you children coming with me?” asked the grocery boy again,
after a bit.
“Where do you want us to go?” inquired Tommy.
“Why, anywhere you’d like to go,” replied the grocery boy.
“Oh, then can you take us home?” begged Mary, eagerly, as she opened
the oven door, and shut it again, and then the whole kitchen of the
poor family was filled with the nicest cooking-smell--just like
Christmas and Thanksgiving rolled into one, you know.
“Well, I guess I can take you home,” said the grocery boy. “But how did
you get so far away, and are you lost, as usual?”
“Yes, we are lost, the same as we always are,” replied Johnny, as he
gave the top to the poor boy to spin. “But we wouldn’t have been in
this trouble only the horse first walked away with us and then he ran.”
“What horse?” asked the grocery boy.
“The horse that drew us here, with the Thanksgiving dinner,” said
Johnny.
“It must have been your horse,” put in Mary. “You said you had been
looking for one, and I think this was yours. And I hope we delivered
the Thanksgiving dinner to the right place.”
“Oh, s’posin’ we haven’t!” gasped Johnny. “We’ll have to ask papa to
pay for it for us.”
Then Mary told how they had looked out of the window of their home, and
had seen the grocery horse walking away with no one on the seat to hold
on to the lines, and how they had gotten in the wagon and been drawn
along until they got to the house where the poor family lived.
“And,” said Mary, “we saw the Thanksgiving dinner in the wagon, and, as
the horse stopped here, we thought it belonged in this house. But if we
have make a mistake----”
“Oh, that would be terrible!” exclaimed Tommy.
“Indeed, it would!” said Johnny. And, at this thought, the poor
children, who had been sniffing the smell of the roast turkey, and who
had been looking at the nuts, and the cranberries, and the oysters, and
oranges, and candy, and grapes, and celery, and other good things that
the Trippertrot children had brought--at this thought, I say--fearing
that their nice dinner might be taken away, the poor children nearly
cried. And their mamma looked worried, too.
But you just wait and hear what the grocery boy said. He looked first
at Mary, and then at Johnny, and then at Tommy.
“It was no mistake at all,” said the grocery boy, as he waved his
white apron like a flag. “That dinner belonged just here, and here it
stays. The grocery man I work for is very kind, and he put up a big
Thanksgiving dinner, and told me to take it to some poor family. I
started out with it, but I saw a poor little doggie, with a tin can
tied to his tail.
“So I got out of my wagon to take off the can, and then my horse, that
was fastened to the grocery wagon, started off. It must have been then
that you children tried to stop him, and I’m much obliged to you. So
you see, the horse knew just where to stop, and the Thanksgiving dinner
stays right here.”
“Oh, I’m so glad!” cried the poor woman.
“And so are we,” said the poor children.
Then Mary Trippertrot looked in the oven again, and as soon as she
opened the stove door out came that nice smell once more, and really it
almost makes me hungry to tell you about it.
“Well, I guess it’s time we started away,” said the grocery boy, after
a while.
“Oh, yes, you are going to take us home; aren’t you?” asked Mary, as
she went up to him, and took hold of his hand, for he was a very nice,
kind, gentle grocery boy, and whenever he delivered eggs, he never
broke one, he was so careful.
“Yes, I’ll take you home,” he said to Mary and Johnny and Tommy. “Come
along.”
“Oh, must you really go?” asked the poor woman. “I wish, after you have
been so kind to us, that you could stay and have some of this lovely
turkey dinner.”
“Yes, do stay!” cried all the poor children together, like a lot of
twins, you know, only, of course, they weren’t.
“Oh, thank you,” said Mary, politely, “we have had our dinner, and
really we must get back home before dark, or mamma and papa will
worry about us. We shouldn’t have come out, only it was a special,
extra-extraordinary occasion, like the time of the dancing bears, and
the pink cow, otherwise we never would have come out.”