on fluttering along, just far enough ahead so that the Trippertrot
children couldn’t catch him. They didn’t want to hurt him, you
understand; no, indeed! They only wanted to help him.
“Oh, wait a minute, little bird!” called Johnny, “and I will give you
my paper chain.”
But perhaps the birdie was afraid the paper chain might get tangled in
his legs. At any rate, he didn’t wait, but kept on fluttering along the
sidewalk.
“Perhaps some cat might get him,” said Mary, after a while. “We must
try to catch that birdie, boys, and put him in a safe place. Wait, and
I will speak to him.”
So Mary walked on in front of Tommy and Johnny, and said, in her soft
little voice:
“Wait a minute, birdie, and you may have my paper pin-wheel that I
made in kindergarten class, and it goes around and around as fast as
anything.”
“What goes around,” asked Tommy, with a laugh, “the pin-wheel or the
kindergarten class?”
“Both of them,” answered Mary quickly. “The pin-wheel goes around when
you blow your breath on it, and the kindergarten class goes around when
teacher plays the piano, and we march and play games. But now please
keep quiet, and I may get the birdie.”
So Mary walked on ahead, very, very softly, and once more she told the
lame birdie that it might have her pin-wheel. I don’t know just how it
was, but perhaps the birdie thought if he had the pin-wheel he might be
able to fly up in the air again. At any rate, he stopped fluttering,
and a moment later Mary had him softly nestled in her little, warm
hands.
“Oh, you dear, darling little birdie!” she exclaimed.
“One of his legs is hurt and so is one of his wings,” said Mary, as she
looked at the little lame birdie. “Oh, boys!” she exclaimed, “I know
what let’s do!”
“What?” asked Johnny.
“Let’s take this bird to a doctor’s office,” went on Mary, “and the
doctor will make him all better. How’s that?”
“Fine!” cried Tommy and Johnny together, and then they looked up and
down the street to see a house where a doctor lived. And then, all of a
sudden, Johnny cried:
“Oh, Mary! Oh, Tommy! We’re lost again! We came down the wrong street,
when we followed the fluttering birdie, and now can’t find our way home
again! Oh, what shall we do?”
“Oh, never mind!” spoke Mary, after a bit, when she had looked all
around to see if she could find the way home, but she couldn’t. “Never
mind. We’ll go to the doctor’s office first, and maybe he can tell us
the way home.”
“Maybe he can!” said Tommy and Johnny, and then they didn’t feel badly
any more. Well, the Trippertrot children walked on, Mary carrying the
birdie, which was just as happy as it could be now. And pretty soon the
children met a nice man.
“If you please, sir,” said Tommy, “can you tell us where there’s a
doctor’s office?”
“Why, are you sick?” asked the man quickly.
“No, but the bird is,” said Johnny. “And we’re lost.”
[Illustration: _The Trippertrot Children Ran On._]
“But we didn’t mean to be,” said Tommy quickly. “You see, we were
coming home from school, and we kept on going after this birdie, until,
all of a sudden, we were lost.”
“I see,” said the man, with a jolly laugh. “Well, I hope you will find
your home again. The doctor’s office is just a few houses down this
street. Right next to the candy store,” he added.
“Oh, thank you, then we can easily find it,” said Mary quickly; “we
just love candy.”
“Then here is a cent for each of you,” spoke the man, and he gave them
each a cent, and pretty soon the Trippertrot children ran on, and they
were at the candy store. And they bought some sticks of peppermint
candy, and then they rang the bell at the doctor’s office.
“Well, what is it, children?” asked the doctor, when he came to the
door. “I hope you are not all sick.”
“No, but the little lame birdie is,” said Tommy, “and will you please
cure him? We would give you some pennies for doing it, but we just
spent them all for candy, so we have none.”
“Hum, then I’m afraid _you_ may be sick, as well as the birdie,” said
the doctor.
“We’re lost, anyhow, but we’re not sick--that is, not yet, if you
please,” said Mary. “But can you cure the birdie?”
“Oh, I’m afraid not,” said the doctor kindly. “You see, I am a
boy-or-a-girl or a man-or-a-lady doctor, but not a bird-doctor. You
will have to take the birdie to a bird-doctor.”
“If you please, where is one?” asked Johnny.
“I don’t know,” answered the man-doctor.
“Then I guess you will have to be one yourself,” said Mary. “If you can
cure a boy or a girl you can cure a bird. And then, please will you
find our home for us? We’re the Trippertrots, and we’re lost.”
“Oh, my! Oh, my!” exclaimed the doctor, and he laughed and scratched
his head. “I don’t know what in the world to do. But come in, and bring
the bird.”
Then he took them inside and he gave the bird some warm milk, and he
put some salve on the sore wing and leg, and pretty soon the birdie was
all well again.
“Now what are you going to do with the bird?” asked the doctor when he
had cured it. “Are you going to take it home, and put it in a cage?”
“No, indeed!” exclaimed Mary. “Birdies don’t like to be shut up in a
cage. We’re going to let it go; aren’t we, boys?”
“Of course,” said Tommy and Johnny. So the doctor opened a window and
out flew the little birdie, and it was so happy that it wiggled its
tail and called “cheep-cheep!” to the children.
“And now can you please take us home?” said Mary to the doctor. “We are
tired and we haven’t been home from school yet, and mamma may worry.
Besides, we want to make some paper lanterns, and paper chains, and
paper pin-wheels. Please take us home.”
“Dear me!” exclaimed the doctor. “I hardly know what to do. Where do
you live?”
“We don’t know,” said Mary and Tommy and Johnny at once.
“Oh, this is worse and worse!” exclaimed the doctor.
“Don’t you know where we live?” asked Mary. “I thought doctors knew
everything.”
“I only wish I did,” said the doctor kindly. “But I will see what I can
do.” So he called in Bridget, his cook, and asked her if she knew where
the children lived.
“Of course,” answered Bridget. “They are the Trippertrots. They live a
couple of streets from here.”
“Can you take them home?” asked the doctor.
“Ah, sure I can,” said Bridget.
“Then please do,” said the doctor.
So Bridget put on her bonnet and shawl, and started to take the
Trippertrots home, but on the way there something else happened.
ADVENTURE NUMBER EIGHTEEN
THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE NICE BIG DOG
Bridget led Tommy and Mary and Johnny Trippertrot down the steps of the
house and started off up the street with them.
“Are you sure, if you please, that you know where we live, Bridget?”
asked Mary.
“Ah, sure I do!” exclaimed Bridget, with a laugh. “I know Suzette, your
mamma’s nursemaid, and if I know what house _she_ lives in, sure I can
take you to that _same_ house, can’t I?”
“Oh, I’m sure you can!” exclaimed Mary, “and if we had any of our candy
left we’d give you some; wouldn’t we, boys?”
“Yes, indeed!” exclaimed Tommy and Johnny together, like twins, you
know.
“Oh, bless your dear little hearts!” exclaimed Bridget. “I don’t want
any candy. But come along now, and you’ll soon be home.”
So she led them up one street, and down another, and pretty soon they
came to a window of a store that was filled with pretty toys. Oh, there
were trains of cars, and toy soldiers, and dolls, and doll carriages,
and steam engines, and elephants that waggled their heads, and all
things like that.
“Oh, don’t you remember this place?” cried Mary to her brothers.
[Illustration: THE TRAIN KEPT GOING ON AND ON]
“Yes,” said Johnny, “this is the toy shop where we came the first time
we were lost, and we choosed things from the window.”
“That’s what it is,” agreed Tommy.
“Have you children been lost before?” asked Bridget.
“Oh, we’re always getting lost!” exclaimed Mary. “Aren’t we, boys?”
“Of course,” answered Tommy and Johnny together, once more like twins,
you know.
“But it isn’t our fault,” said Mary. “It’s just like to-day; something
always leads us off, like a lame birdie or a pink cow, or the dancing
bears.”
“Bless and save us!” cried Bridget. “What funny children you are, to be
sure! But come along, and we’ll soon be home.”
Well, she was hurrying them along as fast as she could, for it was
getting on toward evening, you know, when all at once Johnny fell down
and he bumped his nose on the sidewalk.
“Oh, my!” he exclaimed.
“There now, don’t cry!” said Mary.
“I’m not going to!” said Johnny bravely. “But--but I want to very much,
and it hurts awful, that’s what it does,” and he couldn’t help two
tears coming into his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall down on the
sidewalk; no, indeed. Oh, I tell you he was a brave little boy!
“Never mind,” said Bridget, “I’ll rub my gold ring on the sore spot,
and maybe that will make it better.”
So she rubbed her cold gold ring on Johnny’s sore nose, and it was soon
better--I mean his nose was better, not the ring, you know.
Well, all of a sudden, as Bridget was leading the children along the
street, and they were thinking they would soon be at home, Bridget
cried out:
“Oh, dear! I quite forgot that I left the meat cooking on the stove for
the doctor’s supper! It will be all burned up! I must hurry back to the
house. Oh, dear! Poor man, he can’t eat burned meat! I must go back at
once.”
“Are you going to take us back with you?” asked Mary, and she didn’t
feel like going, as her feet were very tired, and she wanted to get
home.
“Take you back with me?” cried Bridget. “No, I don’t believe I’ll do
that, or you’ll never get home. See, darlings, it’s but a short step
now to your house. Just down this street a little way, and then you
turn the corner, and there you are. Don’t you think you can find it by
yourselves? The little boy who didn’t cry when he bumped his nose ought
to be able to find it.”
“I--I guess I can,” said Johnny.
“We’ll try, anyhow,” spoke Tommy.
“Well, if we get lost again we can’t help it,” said Mary.
“Oh, you won’t get lost,” declared Bridget, and then, giving them each
a kiss, she hurried back to the doctor’s house so that the supper meat
wouldn’t burn.
Well, the children stood still in the street for a minute, and then
they started in the direction Bridget had shown them. They thought
surely, this time, they could find their house. They were beginning to
be hungry.
“Come on, let’s hurry,” said Mary, so she took hold of Johnny’s hand on
one side, and Tommy’s hand on the other, and away they went.
They hadn’t gone very far before, all at once, and when they hadn’t
yet had time to turn the corner, a nice, big, black and white dog came
running toward them.
“Oh, look, there’s Fido, our dog!” cried Tommy.
“No, Fido isn’t as big as that,” said Johnny quickly. “That is another
dog.”
“But he’s as nice as our Fido,” said Mary, and the boys were sure this
was so.
“And oh, look!” exclaimed Tommy, when the big black and white dog came
closer to them, “this dog must have run away, for there’s a broken
string fast to his collar. Maybe he broke it, and pulled away from the
little house in the yard where he lives.”
“Maybe he did,” agreed Mary. “Doggie, did you run away, and are you
lost?” she asked him.
The doggie wagged his tail up and down.
“Look! Look!” cried Tommy. “He’s saying ‘yes.’ He must be lost, the
same as we were.”
“Do you want us to take you home?” asked Johnny, and once more the
nice, big dog wagged his tail up and down, just as if he was saying
“yes,” that he did.
“Then we’ll take you home,” said Johnny kindly. “Wait a minute, doggie,
until I get hold of that string around your neck.”
So the dog waited, and Johnny took hold of the cord, and so did Tommy;
and then Mary said:
“Oh, boys, I am _so_ tired I don’t believe I can walk another step to
take that lost doggie home. Besides, you don’t know where he lives, and
it may take a long time.”
“Doggies always know their own selves where they live,” said Tommy;
“don’t you, doggie?”
And once more the doggie said “yes” with his tail, that he waggled up
and down.
“Very well, then,” said Mary. “I’ll wait here until you come back,
after you take the doggie home.”
“Oh, I know something better than that!” cried Tommy.
“What?” asked Mary, looking about for a place where she could sit down.
“Why, you can ride on the doggie’s back,” exclaimed Tommy. “He is big
and strong, and he won’t mind carrying you the least bit; will you,
doggie? You’ll carry Mary on your back, won’t you?”
“Bow-wow!” barked the doggie, which means “yes,” of course, and besides
that he waggled his tail again.
So Mary’s two brothers lifted her up on the doggie’s back, and he stood
still, just like a pony-horse. Then Tommy and Johnny took hold of the
string on the dog’s collar and they called:
“Go ahead now, doggie. Go where you live.”
Then the dog looked around, to make sure that Mary was safely on his
back, and off he trotted. He went so fast that he nearly pulled Tommy
and Johnny off their feet.
“Oh, wait! Please wait!” cried Tommy.
“Yes, don’t go so fast!” begged Johnny.
“For you’re jouncing me all to pieces,” said Mary, who was holding on
as tightly as she could by winding her fingers in the dog’s shaggy hair
on his back.
Then the dog said: “Bow-wow! bow-wow!” which meant that he was sorry,
and he went slower.
Along the street went the three little Trippertrots, and the nice big
dog, and Tommy and Johnny and Mary were watching all the while for the
place where the dog lived.
But that dog kept straight on, and didn’t seem to want to turn in
anywhere.
“Oh!” exclaimed Mary, “s’posin’ he hasn’t any home!”
“He’s _got_ to have a home,” said Tommy. “All dogs have homes, and
we’ll come to this one’s pretty soon.”
[Illustration: _He Stood Still, Just Like a Pony-Horse._]
“But we’re going right away from our home,” said Mary, “and maybe we
can’t ever find it. I’m afraid we’ll be lost again.”
“Oh, I guess not,” spoke Johnny. “Is your home near here?” he asked, in
the doggie’s ear.
“Bow-wow! Bow-wow!” barked the doggie.
“Now what do you s’pose he means?” asked Mary.
“I don’t know,” said Tommy.
“Neither do I,” spoke Johnny, “but we’ll keep right on, and we’ll get
there some time.”
Pretty soon they met a nice man, and he said to the children:
“Well, where is that big dog taking you?”
“If you please, he isn’t taking _us_ anywhere,” said Mary. “We’re
taking _him_ home. He’s lost.”
“Oh, I see,” said the man, with a laugh. “Well, be sure you don’t get
lost yourselves.”
Then Mary and Tommy and Johnny went on a little farther with the dog,
until all at once, when they got in front of a nice, big, brown-stone
house, they heard a little boy cry out:
“Oh, papa, there’s Nero come back! Some children are bringing him back!
Oh, how glad I am! I thought he was lost.”
“Is this your dog?” asked Tommy, when the little boy and a man came
down the steps.
“Yes,” said the man, “that is my little boy’s dog.”
“And his name is Nero, and he was lost,” spoke the boy.
“Where did you find him?” asked the boy’s papa, while Nero danced
around and barked as loudly as he could, because he was so happy to be
home again.
“He was lost, and we found him,” answered Mary, who had slid down off
Nero’s back, “but now _we_ are lost.”
“Never mind,” said the man, “since you were so kind as to bring my
little boy’s dog home, I will send _you_ home in my carriage. James,”
he called to the coachman, “hitch up the horses, and take these
children home. And, Nero, you must never run away again.”
So Nero barked, which, I suppose, was his way of saying that he never
would, and then he went in the house with the little boy. And pretty
soon the horses were hitched to the carriage.
“Oh, goody! We’re going to have a ride home!” exclaimed Mary.
ADVENTURE NUMBER NINETEEN
THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE POOR LITTLE BOY
“Oh, this is the best fun yet!” exclaimed Tommy. “I’m real glad we got
lost this time.” He could see the nice coach and horses now.
“So am I,” said Johnny.
“And to think of going home in a real coach, with a real coachman!”
exclaimed Mary. “It will be real stylish!”
“Yes, and they are real horses, too!” exclaimed Tommy, as the coachman
came along the driveway, driving the prancing animals.
“Of course!” cried Johnny. “If they weren’t real horses we’d never get
home.”
“Oh, well,” said Mary, “I guess Tommy meant they might be
rocking-horses, or sawhorses, or clothes-horses, such as we once rode
on. But I’m glad they are real horses. Oh, here we are, all ready for a
ride.”
And with that the coachman drove up to the steps and stopped the
carriage.
“Jump in, children!” he called to them, “and I’ll soon have you home.
Whoa, there, horsies! Don’t jump so and prance about, or you might step
on somebody’s toes.”
Then the horses stood very quiet, and Tommy and Mary and Johnny got
into the nice carriage. Oh, it was a fine one! with such soft cushions
on the seats, and little windows, out of which the children could look,
and see what was happening in the streets.
And oh, so many things were happening! There were trolley cars rushing
here and there, some one way and some another way, and there were
wagons being driven here, and there, and some were from the grocery
store, and some from the butcher store. And then there were such lots
of automobiles, with their horns going “Toot! Toot!”
“I believe there must be forty-’leven autos at the very least,” said
Tommy.
“I’m glad we’re not walking home,” said Mary, “because an automobile
might accidentally bump into us.”
“Yes, it’s nice here,” said Tommy, and just then a man with a peanut
wagon ran it across the street, right under the noses of the coachman’s
horses.
“Hey, there! Where are you going?” cried the coachman to the peanut
man, and the coachman had to pull up the horses very quickly, or the
peanut man might have been run over. Mind, I’m not saying for sure, but
he _might_ have been, you know, though I hope none of us would want a
thing like that to happen. “Where are you going?” called the coachman
again.
“I am going across the street, so as to get on the other side,” said
the peanut man. “None of the people over there would buy any of my hot
peanuts, so I want to go over on the other side.”
“Quite right,” said the coachman kindly. “I don’t blame you a bit.”
“Oh, isn’t it too bad that nobody would buy his peanuts, poor man!”
said Mary. “I would buy some, if I had the money.”
“So would I!” exclaimed Tommy.
“And so would I,” added Johnny.
“Would you now, bless your hearts?” said the hot peanut man. “Then it
is I who will be wishing you _did_ have the money.”
“Oh, well, maybe if they haven’t I have,” said the coachman, and,
with that, what did he do? He put his one hand in his pocket, while
holding on to the horses’ reins with the other, and out he pulled three
five-cent pieces. “Here,” said the coachman kindly, “give the children
each a bag of hot peanuts.”
“That I will!” exclaimed the peanut man, “and here’s a bag for
yourself, Mr. Coachman, for being so kind as not to run over me while I
was crossing the street.”
“Oh, pray don’t mention such a little thing as that,” said the
coachman, with a smile, as he took the fourth bag. Then the peanut man
hurried on across the street, and the coachman drove the Trippertrot
children on a little farther.
Pretty soon, after a while the coachman turned around, and, looking
into the back part of the big carriage, where the children were, he
asked them:
“And now, my little dears, where would you like me to be driving? I
mean where is your home? for I want to get the horses back in the
stable pretty soon. Where do you live?”
“Why, don’t you know?” asked Mary in wonder.
“Not a bit of it,” answered the coachman, and he was so surprised that
he stopped eating peanuts.
“He--doesn’t--know--where--we--live!” cried Tommy and Johnny together,
and they, too, were so surprised that they stopped eating peanuts. And
then Mary stopped, too.
“How should I know where you live?” asked the coachman. “The master
just told me to take you home, and I thought you knew where it was.”
“But we don’t,” said Mary gently. “You see, we are the Trippertrots,
and we are always tripping and trotting off somewhere, and getting
lost. That’s what we did this time. But I should have thought the man,
whose boy owns the big dog we found, would have told you where to take
us.”
“Well, he didn’t,” said the coachman. “But I’ll tell you what I’ll do.”
“What is it?” asked Tommy and Johnny and Mary, all at once.
“I’ll drive all around, up one street and down the other, and maybe you
will see your house,” said the coachman. “Please keep a sharp lookout.”
“Oh, that’s just the way the banana man did, the time we rode in the
hay on his cart,” said Johnny.
“Yes, we got home then all right,” said Mary, “and I think we will this
time. Go on, Mr. Coachman, if you please, and we will tell you when we
come to our house, so you can stop and let us out.”
“Bless their dear little innocent hearts!” exclaimed the coachman--and
he spoke to the horses to make them go faster--“I never saw such
children in all the days of my life. Not to know where they live! Ah,
well, sure the little fairies will watch over ’em, and me, too, I hope,
and I’ll get them safely home if I can.”
So he drove on and on, through street after street, but he couldn’t
seem to find the Trippertrot house, and, though the children looked out
of the carriage windows, and ate their peanuts, they couldn’t see their
house, either.
And then, all of a sudden, as Mary was looking at the nice horses, and
wondering if they would ever get home again--all at once, I say--she
saw a poor little ragged boy standing on the street corner, and he was
crying.
“Oh, Tommy and Johnny! Look there!” exclaimed Mary. “That little boy is
crying. Something must be the matter.”
“I guess there is,” said Johnny. “We ought to help him.”
“We will!” exclaimed Tommy. “Oh, Mr. Coachman, stop, if you please!” he
called out of the front window of the carriage.
“Why, what is the matter?” asked the coachman. “Have you found your
house?”
“Not yet,” answered Mary, “but we have found a poor little boy, and we
want to see what is the matter with him.”
So the coachman stopped the horses, and out jumped Tommy. He went right
up to the poor little crying boy, and asked:
“What is the matter? Are you hurt?”
“No, I am lost,” said the poor little boy, and he cried harder than
ever.
“My! My!” exclaimed Tommy, in his jolly little voice. “That is nothing.
We are lost, too, and we don’t mind it a bit. We are always getting
lost. But the coachman is taking us home, and I know he’ll take you
home also. Get in the carriage.”
So the poor little ragged boy started to get into the carriage. The
coachman saw him and cried out:
“I say now, where are you going?”
“He is coming with us,” answered Mary. “He is lost; and will you please
take him home, too?”
“Oh! Oh!” cried the coachman. “This is the worst I ever heard! Here are
you children who don’t know where your own home is and you’re trying to
find a home for another lost boy. Oh, dear! This is terrible! Terrible!”
“But I _do_ know where my home is,” said the poor little boy, “only it
got away from me somehow or other. I know what street it’s on.”
“Do you, indeed?” cried the coachman. “Then that’s more than the
Trippertrots know. Whisper now, and tell me where is your home, and
I’ll take you to it as fast as the horses can trot. And then, maybe,
we’ll have good luck, and find out where these children live.”
So the little boy, who had stopped crying now, told the name of his
street and the number of his house. I forget where it was, but that
doesn’t matter.
“Oh, joy! Now I know where I’m going,” said the coachman, and the
horses started up. Inside the coach the three Trippertrots were eating
peanuts, and, of course, they gave the little boy some, and he liked
them very much.
And then, all of a sudden, the little boy cried:
“Oh, there’s my house!”
“Are you sure?” asked the coachman. But the little boy didn’t have to
answer, for just then out ran a lady.
“Oh, Teddy!” she cried, when she saw the poor little boy. “I thought I
would never see you again! Where have you been?” and she took him in
her arms.
“I’ve been lost, mamma,” he said, “and these nice children brought me
home.”
“And where do you live?” asked the lady.
“That’s the trouble,” said Mary sadly. “Everyone seems to have a home
but us.”
And now I’m coming to the strange part of this adventure. Just as Mary
said that, along the street came a man with a long, white beard, and as
soon as Johnny saw him he cried out:
“Oh, there is the nice old fisherman! You’ll take us home, won’t you?”
“Yes, please do,” said Tommy.
“We wish it so very much,” added Mary. “Won’t you, please?”