same one who had fished up the rubber boots and the raincoat and the
umbrella, and who had taken the children to the house of the false-face
man. “I’ll take you home,” he said. So he got into the carriage with
the Trippertrots, and away they went.
ADVENTURE NUMBER TWENTY
THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE LITTLE GIRL
“And where have you been since I saw you last?” asked the fisherman of
Mary, as she and her brothers sat on the coach cushions eating peanuts.
“Oh, we have been getting lost nearly every day,” she replied. “Haven’t
we, boys?”
“Yes, indeed,” answered Tommy and Johnny together. “This time it was a
nice big dog that made us get lost,” added Tommy.
“And on other times it was a pink cow, or the dancing bears,” added
Johnny.
“My! You children certainly have strange adventures,” said the old
fisherman, with a jolly laugh. “But I think they will soon be over
to-day, as we will be home in a little while.”
“Tell me,” said the coachman, as he turned around to speak to the old
fisherman, “do you know where these children live? For they don’t
themselves, and I never saw nor heard of such a thing in all the born
days of my life. Do you know where they live?”
“Oh, yes,” said the old fisherman.
“Thank goodness for that!” exclaimed the coachman. “Get up, horses, we
will soon have them home, and then we can go home ourselves, and I’ll
give you your suppers. Not that I want to be impolite,” the coachman
said quickly, “but you must see that it is a strange thing to be
driving around with children who don’t know where they live.”
“It _is_ queer,” admitted Mary, as she ate the last of her peanuts.
“The next time we get lost,” said Tommy, “we’ll tie a string to our
house and take the cord with us, and when we want to go back, all we’ll
have to do will be to follow the string.”
“That’s a good idea,” said the old fisherman, and then he told the
coachman where to drive, so as to get to the Trippertrot house as soon
as possible.
“Have you caught any more queer fish?” asked Tommy, as they drove
along, for he could not help thinking of the rubber boots, and the
umbrella, that the fisherman had pulled up on the hammock-hook out of
the little lake.
“No, I haven’t been fishing since then,” said the old gentleman. “But
I have my hammock-hook now, and, if the driver will lend me one of the
lines, I’ll fish right here, out of the carriage window.”
“Why, you can’t catch anything by fishing out of a carriage window,”
said Mary politely.
“How do you know?” inquired the old fisherman, with a smile. “Did you
ever try it?”
“No,” said Mary, “I never have.”
“Then you can’t tell!” exclaimed the fisherman. “Why, I have caught
fish in the queerest places you ever heard of, and then again, I’ve
gone fishing in places where I was sure there were fish, and I never
got a bite--except a mosquito bite. So you never can tell.
“Why, once I was in the market, getting something to eat, and I
happened to drop my umbrella, that had a crooked handle. And when I
picked it up, there was a fish fast to it. What do you think of that?”
“Oh, well, yes, of course!” exclaimed Johnny. “There are fish in a
market, for people want to buy them. I believe _that_ all right.”
“So do I,” said Tommy.
“But listen to this,” said the old fisherman. “Once I was in a lady’s
house, and I went in the parlor, and there was a glass jar there on the
table. I put my finger in the jar and a fish bit me. What do you think
of that?”
“Oh, yes, but,” said Mary, “they were goldfish, in water, in the jar. I
have often seen goldfish in a parlor.”
“Then,” said the old fisherman, “if there are goldfish in a parlor and
other fish in the meat market, how can you tell but what there may be
fish in this carriage? I’m going to try, anyhow, for I haven’t fished
in some time. Please, Mr. Coachman, lend me a piece of the horse lines.”
So the coachman did this, and the old fisherman fastened the line on
his hammock-hook, and then he sat on the seat, and let the hook dangle
on the floor.
Every once in a while the old fisherman would pull up the horse line,
with the hammock-hook on it, and he would look carefully at it. But
each time there was nothing on, and the fisherman was much disappointed.
“I’m afraid you will never get any fish in here,” said Mary, after a
while.
“No, indeed!” exclaimed Tommy. “For we have been riding in here for
some time, and if there were any fish we would know it.”
“Besides,” added Johnny, “there isn’t any water here, or else our feet
would be wet, and fish can’t live without water.”
“I believe you’re right!” exclaimed the old fisherman. “I never thought
of that. I have made a mistake. I should have put my hook out of the
back window of the carriage. I’ll do it now,” and he did so at once,
and then he sat very quietly, waiting for a bite, while the coachman
drove on to the Trippertrot house.
All at once the old fisherman cried out:
“I have a bite! I have a bite!”
“Is it a mosquito bite?” asked Mary quickly. “Because if it is you must
put witch hazel on it.”
“No, it is a fish bite,” said the old gentleman.
“On your finger?” asked Tommy.
“No, on the hammock-hook,” said the old gentleman, and then he pulled
in the horse-fish-line, and there, on the hammock-hook, was a tall silk
hat, such as doctors sometimes wear.
“Oh, what a funny catch!” exclaimed Mary.
“Isn’t it, though!” agreed the fisherman. “I don’t know when I ever
caught a silk hat before.”
He was just taking the hat off the hook, and looking at it to see if
there were any holes in it, when all at once the coach stopped and the
coachman said:
“If you please, sir, there is trouble out here.”
“What sort of trouble?” asked the old fisherman.
“Why, there is a gentleman here, sir, without any hat, and he says,
sir, that it’s in my coach.”
“I shouldn’t wonder but what he was right,” spoke the queer fisherman.
“I think _I_ have his hat.”
“Ha! What do you mean by taking off my hat?” asked a voice, and there,
at the coach window, stood a little man, with a very red face. “Where
is my hat?” he cried.
“Here it is,” answered the fisherman. “I beg your pardon. You see when
I fish I never can tell what I am going to catch. I hope I haven’t
bothered you.”
“Well, if I don’t catch cold I won’t mind,” said the little man with
the red face. And he took the hat from the fisherman, put it on his
head, and hurried off.
Then the coachman drove his horses on some more, and the queer old
fisherman dangled his hammock-hook out of the back carriage window
again.
“I wonder what we shall catch this time?” he said to the children, with
a jolly laugh.
“Oh, maybe you’ll catch a chocolate cake,” said Tommy.
“Or an orange pudding,” added Mary.
“Or a dish of ice cream,” said Johnny.
“Well, it might happen,” spoke the fisherman. “Hello! I have something,
anyhow,” he cried, as he pulled in the hook and line.
And what do you suppose was dangling on the end of it?
Why, a lady’s bonnet, of course! Yes, a real lady’s bonnet, all covered
with flowers, and lace, and ribbons, and things like that. I mean the
bonnet was covered with those things--not the lady, you understand.
“Why--why!” exclaimed the fisherman, with a pleased laugh. “I don’t
know when I have caught a lady’s bonnet before. I am having very good
luck to-day.”
Then, just as he was taking the bonnet off the hook, the coachman
stopped the horses and said:
“If you please, sir, there is more trouble out here!”
“What sort of trouble?” asked the fisherman.
“Why, there is a lady here, sir, that says you have her new bonnet.”
“I shouldn’t wonder,” spoke the fisherman. “This must be it. It got
caught on my hook by mistake.”
“Oh, I hope it’s not torn!” cried the lady, as she looked in at the
coach window.
“Not in the least,” said the fisherman politely, as he gave the bonnet
to her.
And on they went again.
“I must be careful what I catch next time,” said the fisherman, as he
once more put the hammock-hook out of the back window of the coach. In
a minute he pulled it in again, and this time there was a loaf of bread
on it, all wrapped up in paper, and tied with a pink string. And no
sooner had the bread been pulled in, than there was a crying sound out
in the street, and a voice said:
“Oh, my bread! Some one has taken my loaf of bread, and I haven’t any
money to buy any more! Oh, dear!”
“Bless me!” cried the old fisherman. “I wouldn’t have taken any one’s
loaf of bread for the world.”
Then he looked out of the coach window, and he saw a poor little girl
crying real, salty tears.
“Oh, my! don’t cry,” said the kind fisherman. “Are you lost, too?”
“No, but I was coming home from the store, with a loaf of bread,” said
the poor little girl, “and all at once I--I didn’t have it.”
“Ah, here it is,” said the old fisherman kindly, and he handed it to
her out of the coach window. Well, you just should have seen how wide
open the little girl’s eyes were.
“Are--are you one of the magicians that makes rabbits come out of a
hat?” the poor little girl asked.
“Oh, yes. I can do those tricks sometimes,” said the old fisherman. “I
just caught your bread by mistake.”
“Oh, will you do some tricks?” cried Mary and Johnny and Tommy, all
together.
“Not now, some other day,” said the old fisherman. “Get up in the
carriage, little girl, and we will take you home.”
So the poor little girl got up in the carriage, and as she knew where
her home was, the coachman soon drove her there, and the old fisherman
gave her ten cents.
“And now for the Trippertrot house!” cried the old fisherman, as they
started off again. “We’ll soon be there.”
“And very glad I’ll be of it!” said the coachman, “for such queer
goings on I never saw before in all the born days of my life. Fishing
out of a coach! The idea!”
All of a sudden, as the children and the old fisherman were riding
along, a policeman, who was on a horse, galloped up to the coach, and
holding up his hand to stop it, cried out:
“Is the old fisherman in there?”
“Of course I am,” replied the fisherman. “What is the matter?”
“You are wanted at once,” spoke the policeman. “Down at the bird and
animal store. The big glass globe, where the goldfish swim, was upset
by a puppy dog wagging his tail, and the fish are all flopping over the
floor. The man who owns them wants you to come and help him catch them.”
“Of course, I’ll go at once,” said the kind old fisherman. “It will be
fun for the children to watch me catch the fish.”
“No, the Trippertrot children must stay here,” said the policeman. “I
forgot to tell you that a snake also got loose when the fish fell out
of the globe, and we wouldn’t want the children to be bitten by the
snake.”
“No, indeed, we don’t want to be, either,” spoke Mary. “But what is to
become of us? Who will take care of us? How will we ever get home?”
“Oh, I will look after you,” said the policeman. “Here, I will wrap you
up in my nice coat,” he went on, taking off the coat that he wore.
“But where will we stay?” asked Tommy.
“Yes, we must stay somewhere, until the coach and the old fisherman
come back for us,” went on Johnny.
“Ha! I have it! The very thing!” cried the policeman, as he saw a man
going past carrying a big rocking-chair on his head. “Let me take that
chair for the Trippertrot children to sit in until this coach comes
back,” the policeman said to the man, and the man did it at once.
So the policeman wrapped the three children in his coat, and set them
in the big rocking-chair, close to a street lamp-post, so the coachman
could easily find them again when he came back.
“I’ll just write your names and addresses on a card, and tie it to the
chair,” said the policeman. “Then there will be no trouble about you
getting home again.” So he did that, for he knew where the Trippertrots
lived, though he didn’t have time to take them home himself.
Then the policeman rode away on his horse, and the fisherman drove off
in the coach to catch the goldfish, and the children were left sitting
in the rocking-chair on the street, beside the lamp-post.
And they didn’t mind it a bit, not even when it began to rain all of a
sudden, for they were very snug in the coat.
Well, it rained and it rained, and pretty soon the children were so
nice and cozy and warm that they went to sleep. And then, who should
come along but an expressman, driving his wagon, and the wagon was
painted red.
“Whoa!” called the expressman to his horse, as he saw the rocking-chair
by the lamp-post. “I must see what this is. Maybe it dropped off some
one’s wagon.”
So he went up to the rocking-chair, and my goodness me sakes alive and
a spoonful of mustard! Wasn’t he surprised when he opened the big
coat, and saw Mary and Tommy and Johnny sleeping inside it.
“Why, this is very strange!” said the expressman. “I wonder who could
have left three little children out in the rain like this?” Then he
looked at his wagon to see if he would have room for them inside it.
And he thought he had.
“My! My! My sakes alive and some Thanksgiving turkey!” cried the
expressman. “I never heard of such a thing in all my born days and
nights! I am certainly surprised!”
“Heard of what? What is the matter?” cried Tommy, who suddenly
awakened, and looked up at the expressman. “What is it that you are
surprised at? Is it a surprise party?”
“No, indeed,” replied the expressman. “But I am surprised that any one
would leave you here in the storm like this.”
“The policeman did,” explained Mary, “but he wrapped us up in his big
coat. We were with the old fisherman, but he had to go away to catch
the goldfish that spilled all over the floor. I guess he is coming back
for us.”
“But if he doesn’t, what are we to do?” asked Johnny. “I wish some one
could take us home now.”
“Perhaps this nice expressman can take us home,” suggested Tommy, for
he could see the expressman’s wagon standing there.
“Of course, I could take you home, if I knew where you lived,” said the
expressman.
“It’s written on a tag tied to the chair,” said Mary, in her most
polite voice.
“What is?” asked the expressman. “What is written there?”
“The address where we live,” went on the little Trippertrot girl. “Do
you think you can find our house?”
“Of course I can,” answered the expressman. “I’ll soon have you home.
You’ll be all right now, and I’ll pull the canvas sides down on my
wagon, and you’ll be as nice and snug as you can be, even though it
rains all the while, for my express wagon has a top on it. And later on
I’ll tell the policeman and the fisherman that I took you away. Then
they won’t worry.”
So he picked up the chair and the children, both at the same time,
still wrapped in the coat as they were, and the expressman put them,
chair and all, into his big wagon. Then, having looked at the address
on the tag, which told on which street the Trippertrot family lived,
and the number of the house, the expressman whistled a funny, jolly
little tune to his horse, and away he galloped through the storm, up
one street and down another.
And, oh! how nice, and warm, and cozy it was for the Trippertrot
children in the express wagon. The canvas sides kept out the wind and
the rain, and none of the drops could get in the top, for there was
a roof over the wagon. It was so warm in there (for there was a nice
lantern all lighted and burning, as it was getting dark)--it was so
warm, I say--that the children didn’t need the coat around them any
more.
“Let’s get out of the chair, and see the different things that are in
the wagon,” suggested Mary, after a while.
“Oh, yes, let’s,” agreed Johnny. “We have never ridden in an express
wagon before. This is a new adventure.”
So they laid aside the coat, and crawled out of the big rocking-chair.
They saw lots of boxes and packages in the wagon, and they wondered
what they contained, but they were too polite to ask. In fact, the
expressman was too busy to answer them, for the storm was quite bad
now, and he had all he could do to drive his horse through it. But it
was fun for the children in the wagon, as they were warm, and they
could see very well by the light of the lantern.
All of a sudden, in one corner of the wagon they heard a noise that
sounded like:
“Cut! Cut! Cut-ka-dah-cut!”
“What’s that?” cried Johnny.
“That’s a chicken,” answered Tommy.
“What, in this wagon?” asked Mary.
“It sounded so,” went on Tommy. “Let’s look around and find it.”
So the children began looking in and around the different boxes and
packages, until, all of a sudden, Mary saw a little box, with slats
nailed across the front, like a small chicken-coop, and inside was a
dear, little red hen.
“Cut! Cut! Cut-ka-dah-cut!” called the red hen.
“Oh, you little dear!” exclaimed Mary. “I wish I had you for my own.”
“Maybe it is coming to our house for a present to us,” suggested Tommy.
“See if there’s a tag on it, like on our rocking-chair, to tell where
the expressman is to leave it,” said Johnny.
“No, there isn’t any,” said Mary, after she had looked.
“Cut! Cut! Cut-ka-dah-cut!” cried the red hen again, just as if she was
trying to tell where she belonged.
“Has she laid any eggs?” asked Tommy.
“I don’t see any,” spoke Mary, as she looked inside the little
chicken-coop. “But maybe she will, if we wait a little longer.”
So the three Trippertrot children sat down on the floor of the express
wagon, and watched the little red hen, as she scratched around in the
coop, but she didn’t seem to be laying any eggs. And all this while the
expressman was driving through the rain toward the place where Tommy
and Mary and Johnny lived.
And then, all of a sudden, there was a noise in another corner of the
wagon, and when the children looked there they saw a dear, little white
bunny-rabbit in a cage.
“Oh, if we could only have that!” exclaimed Tommy, in delight.
“Has it got a tag on it, to say that it is coming to our house?” asked
Johnny eagerly.
“No,” replied his sister Mary. “It’s just like the coop of the little
red hen--no tag on it.”
And then there was a queer little chattering sort of a noise in another
corner of the express wagon, and when the children ran over there, they
saw a squirrel, with a big, bushy tail, in a wire cage, and there was
no tag on his cage to tell where he belonged.
“Oh, maybe the expressman will let us keep the three pets!” cried Mary.
“It would be lovely if he would.”
And just then the express wagon stopped.
“Here you are, children!” cried the man, in a jolly voice.
“Where are we?” asked Tommy and Mary and Johnny all together, like
twins.
“Right in front of your own house!” said the expressman. “I have
brought you home, and the big coat, and the rocking-chair, also. Here
we go!”
And with that he picked up Tommy and Johnny and Mary, and the chair,
and the coat, and carried them into the house. And maybe Mr. and Mrs.
Trippertrot and Suzette, the nursemaid, weren’t surprised to see their
children back after such a long time away.
“Oh, you runaway darlings!” cried their mamma. “Where have you been?”
“Almost everywhere,” answered Mary. “But, mamma, dear, one minute,
please. I want to ask the expressman if we can have the little red hen,
and the rabbit, and the squirrel we found in his wagon, because they
have no tags on the cages to show who owns them, and we might have
them.”
“Have them? Of course you may!” cried the expressman. “I’ll bring them
right in. You see, the tags were torn off the boxes, and I don’t know
what to do with them, and I’ll be glad to have some nice children feed
the animals.”
So he brought into the Trippertrot house the squirrel and the rabbit
and the little red hen, and gave them to the children, who had lots of
fun with them for many days after that.
And then Papa Trippertrot thanked the expressman, and all of a sudden,
who should come along but the old fisherman. He got to the house just
as the expressman was driving away.
“Oh, such a time as I had catching those goldfish!” the fisherman
exclaimed. “They flopped all over the floor, and the monkey in the bird
store nearly caught one, and the parrot almost had another. But, thank
goodness, I got them all safe in the fish-globe again, and then I went
to take care of you children, but I found you had gone away. So I came
on here.”
“How did you know we were here?” asked Mary.
“I met Jiggily Jig, the funny boy, and he told me,” said the fisherman.
“He came along just as the expressman was taking you home, and so I
knew just what to do. I sent the coachman and coach back, and I came
here by walking. Oh, but such a time as I’ve had! And how glad I am
that you children are safe home!”
And Mary and Tommy and Johnny were also very glad to get home, and
their papa and mamma were very glad to see them, and they invited
the old fisherman to stay to supper. And he said he would, and the
Trippertrots thought they would never trip or trot away from home again.
But, of course, that isn’t saying that they did not go away. In fact,
they did, and they had many more wonderful adventures, and I will tell
you about them in the next book of this series, which will be called,
“Three Little Trippertrots on Their Travels.”
So Mary and Tommy and Johnny, and their papa and mamma, sat talking
to the old fisherman, who told them many strange stories of the funny
things he had caught.
“Oh, but it is nice to be home again,” said Mary.
“Indeed it is,” agreed Tommy and Johnny.
“And we are happy to have you home,” said their mamma and papa. And
now, for a little while, we will say good-by to the Three Little
Trippertrots.
THE END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the
public domain.