Part 1
[Illustration: THE HAT BLEW UP A TREE]
Three Little Trippertrots On Their Travels
THE WONDERFUL THINGS THEY SAW AND THE WONDERFUL THINGS THEY DID
BY HOWARD R. GARIS
AUTHOR OF “THREE LITTLE TRIPPERTROTS,” “THE BEDTIME STORIES,” “UNCLE WIGGILY’S ADVENTURES,” ETC.
_ILLUSTRATED_
NEW YORK GRAHAM & MATLACK PUBLISHERS
THE TRIPPERTROT STORIES
BY HOWARD R. GARIS
Quarto. Illustrated. Price, per volume, 60 cents, postpaid
THREE LITTLE TRIPPERTROTS
How They Ran Away and How They Got Back Again
THREE LITTLE TRIPPERTROTS ON THEIR TRAVELS
The Wonderful Things They Saw and the Wonderful Things They Did
GRAHAM & MATLACK, Publishers, New York
COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY GRAHAM & MATLACK
_Three Little Trippertrots on Their Travels_
PUBLISHERS’ NOTE
The stories of the Three Little Trippertrots, though never before published, have been told to thousands of children, in a way, probably, that no tales have ever before been related. They were read _over the telephone_, nightly, to thousands of little folks, by means of the system operated by the N. J. Telephone Herald Company. The stories so delighted the children that the author has yielded to the request to issue them in book form.
CONTENTS
ADVENTURE PAGE
I. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE LITTLE FAIRY 7
II. THE TRIPPERTROTS GO SAILING 18
III. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE TOY BALLOONS 29
IV. THE TRIPPERTROTS’ THANKSGIVING 36
V. THE TRIPPERTROTS IN A GROCERY WAGON 42
VI. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE POOR FAMILY 51
VII. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE GROCERY BOY 60
VIII. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE BASKET OF CLOTHES 67
IX. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE POSTMAN 76
X. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE MILKMAN 82
XI. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE LITTLE BABY 92
XII. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE BABY CARRIAGE 98
XIII. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE OLD MAN’S HAT 104
XIV. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE CHRISTMAS TREE 110
XV. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE TOY SHIP 119
XVI. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE MUSIC-BOX 128
XVII. THE TRIPPERTROTS’ CHRISTMAS 135
XVIII. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE HUNGRY FAMILY 144
XIX. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE ELEPHANT 150
XX. THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE TWO-HUMPED CAMEL 156
Three Little Trippertrots on Their Travels.
ADVENTURE NUMBER ONE
THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE LITTLE FAIRY
They were sitting around the fire after supper--Mary and Tommy and Johnny Trippertrot, their papa and mamma, and the old fisherman. The three children had just come home, after having had some wonderful adventures, and they were rather tired.
“I don’t believe I’m ever going away again,” said Mary, who was older than her two brothers. “Never again am I going away. Home is too nice.” And she cuddled close up to her papa and mamma.
“Yes, it is nice,” replied Johnny. “I guess we won’t go away any more.”
“But we had good times, didn’t we?” asked Tommy, as he looked over at the old fisherman, who was gazing at the fire as if wondering whether or not he could catch anything in the flames. “We had lots of good times.”
“Yes, you certainly did have lots of good times,” agreed the old fisherman.
“There was the time we met Simple Simon, and the pieman, and Jiggily Jig, the funny boy, who was always turning somersaults,” cried Mary.
“Yes, and there was the time we rode on the funny horses--the sawhorse, the clothes-horse and the rocking-horse,” went on Tommy. “And when we met the man with the dancing bears, and the man with the pink cow, and the little lost girl, who wanted to be a boy, and whose name was Jack. Remember that?”
“I guess I do,” replied Johnny. “And then there was the time we rode in the train, and met the little old lady, and when the fireman put out the blaze in our chimney, and then the false-face man! Oh, he was jolly!”
“Wasn’t he!” exclaimed Mary. “But I’m glad we have you with us,” she said to the old fisherman. “You are the only friend who came home with us to stay.”
“I am glad I did,” returned the old fisherman.
And now I suppose I had better tell you, children, that the Trippertrots were always running away, and getting lost, though they didn’t mean to, and they came home again as soon as they could. On their trips they met many strange people and animals, and I have told the stories of them in the book before this, called, “Three Little Trippertrots; How They Ran Away, and How They Got Back Again.” The people whom the children spoke about, as they sat around the fire, are all mentioned in that book. The Trippertrots, you know, lived with their papa and mamma in a house in a big city, and there was a nursemaid, named Suzette, who was supposed to look after them, although she didn’t always do it, being so busy.
“It was very good of you to bring the children home,” said Mrs. Trippertrot to the old fisherman. “Very kind of you, indeed.”
“Oh, it was a pleasure for me,” answered the fisherman, who had met the children on their last adventure, and who had taken care of them. “We had a nice ride home in the carriage.”
“And he caught a man’s tall hat by dangling a hammock-hook out of the carriage window,” explained Mary Trippertrot.
“And a lady’s bonnet,” added Tommy.
“And a little girl’s loaf of bread,” said Johnny.
“But he gave them all back,” exclaimed Mary. “And, oh, Mr. Fisherman, you promised to do some tricks for us,” she went on. “You really did, and I think you might do some now, to amuse us. It isn’t quite bedtime.”
“Oh, yes, I’d love to see some funny tricks,” said Tommy. “Can you make a rabbit come out of a hat, or take papa’s watch, and make a rice pudding out of it?”
“Yes, please do that trick!” cried Johnny. “Wouldn’t it be funny to see a rice pudding made from father’s watch? And could you leave the tick-tick part in the pudding, Mr. Fisherman?”
“Hold on!” exclaimed Mr. Trippertrot, “I am not sure that I want my watch made into a pudding. I need my watch to tell the time by, so I can go to work in the morning.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” spoke the old fisherman, with a jolly laugh. “Even if I should make a pudding of your watch, it would not hurt it in the least, or stop it from tick-ticking. But I think I will do some other trick. Mary,” he said, to the little Trippertrot girl, “please let me take your hair ribbon.”
So Mary handed him her hair ribbon, and her curls fell down all about her face, making it look very pretty in the light of the fire.
“Now, Johnny, you hold one end of this ribbon,” said the old fisherman, and Johnny did so.
“And, Tommy, you take hold of the other end,” went on the nice old fisherman, and there the two Trippertrot brothers stood, each one having hold of Mary’s hair ribbon by the end.
“What kind of a trick is this going to be?” asked Mrs. Trippertrot.
“Well, I don’t rightly know myself,” said the old fisherman, “for it never happens twice alike. Sometimes it comes out one way, and sometimes another.”
“Oh, do you think you will make a rabbit come out of my hair ribbon?” asked Mary, eagerly.
“I’d rather have an elephant,” said Tommy.
“Oh, an elephant would be too big to get in this house,” said Johnny. “Besides, he might break through the floor, and fall into the cellar, and we couldn’t get him out of the coal-bin.”
“That’s so,” said the fisherman. “Then I guess I’d better not make an elephant. But now we must go on with the trick. Close your eyes, all of you children, and I’ll say the magical words that will change the hair ribbon into something wonderful.”
So Mary and Tommy and Johnny closed their eyes, and the old fisherman waved his hands in the air. Then he recited this little verse. But please don’t any of you children say it, or I can’t tell what might happen. This is what the old fisherman said:
“A magic trick will now be done, For children three, and two and one. This ribbon must be folded tight, And put away, far out of sight.
And then you all must patient wait, Until the clock is striking eight, Then look behind the parlor chair, Perchance you’ll find a fairy there.”
“Oh, will we really find a fairy?” asked Mary, when the old fisherman told Johnny and Tommy that they could open their eyes.
“You might,” said the old fisherman. “I never can tell what is going to happen when I say that verse. Now the trick is working, so I advise you all to go to bed.”
“But what about looking behind the parlor chair, when the clock is striking eight?” asked Mary. “It’s nearly eight now, and mayn’t we stay up until then, to see the finish of the trick?”
“Oh, I meant eight o’clock to-morrow morning,” said the old fisherman. “Get up then, and look.”
So the children said good-night to the old fisherman, and they were just trotting off to bed, when Mary exclaimed:
“Goodness gracious! We forgot to fold the hair ribbon tight. We must do that, or there won’t be any trick.”
So she and her brothers folded the hair ribbon as tightly as they could, and placed it far away under the big chair in the parlor, where it was out of sight, just as the fisherman said must be done. Then the Trippertrot children were soon fast asleep, and they could hardly wait until eight o’clock the next morning to come, so they could see how the trick worked.
“Where is the old fisherman?” cried Mary, as soon as she could run downstairs when it was daylight again.
“Oh, he had to go away,” said her mamma.
“Then let’s go look, and see if the hair ribbon has changed into a fairy,” suggested Tommy.
“No; Suzette says it isn’t eight o’clock yet,” objected Johnny. So they ate their breakfast, and got ready for school, and then they sat down and watched the clock until the hands should get to the place where it would be time to look behind the parlor chair, to see what would be hiding there.
“Now it’s time!” suddenly cried Mary, and she jumped up, and ran into the parlor, followed by her brothers, just as soon as the clock began to strike. The three children got there about the same time, but Mary was the first to look under the chair. No sooner had she done so than she screamed:
“Oh, my! Oh, dear! Look there!”
“What is it?” cried Johnny. “Has the hair ribbon turned into a doggie?”
“I wish it would turn into a camel with two humps on his back,” said Tommy. “A camel isn’t too big for the house.”
“Oh, look!” cried Mary again. “The ribbon hasn’t gone away at all! But look at that little animal sleeping on it!”
She pointed to something soft, and fuzzy, and furry, lying asleep on the middle of her folded hair ribbon, which was on the floor under the chair. And then Mary quickly hopped up on another chair.
“Why, it’s nothing but a little mousie!” said Tommy.
“A real, live mousie?” asked Johnny.
“Yes, that’s what it is,” said his brother, and at that Mary screamed, and tried to jump on another chair, further away.
“What’s the matter?” asked Johnny. “A mouse can’t hurt girls.”
“But this is no trick!” cried Tommy. “That fisherman didn’t change that hair ribbon into anything, and the mouse just came and slept on it because he wanted to. I don’t like this.”
“Oh, boys, wait!” suddenly cried Mary. “I see it all now. This mouse is a fairy. Yes, she really is. The fisherman made her come to sleep on my hair ribbon. Oh, it’s just like in a story! I’m so glad. Probably that mouse is a fairy princess in this shape until the magical spell is broken, and she can turn into her real self again.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Tommy.
“Me either,” spoke Johnny. “It’s just an ordinary mouse, like Suzette catches in the trap.”
“It is not! It’s a fairy!” insisted Mary. “Aren’t you a fairy, little mouse?” she asked, and she liked the mousie so that she got down off the chair, and went close to the small creature.
“Squeak-squeak,” said the little mouse.
“There, it said ‘yes-yes,’” cried Mary.
“Well, I’m glad you understand mouse language,” said Tommy. “I don’t believe that’s a fairy.”
“Well, it is,” said Mary, “and pretty soon some wonderful things will begin to happen. You had better look out.”
And just then, if you will believe me, the little mouse ran out from under the chair, just like the one that was under the queen’s throne. And the mousie ran out of the parlor, into the hall, and out of the front door, that happened to be open.
“Oh, the fairy is running away! We must run after her!” cried Mary. “It would never do to have a fairy run away, and especially the first fairy we have ever seen! Run, boys, run!”
So Tommy ran and Johnny ran, and Mary ran, and in another minute the three little Trippertrots were running after the mouse--the fairy mouse it was, I guess--for some wonderful things really happened because of that same mousie. You see, the Trippertrots had now started on their travels.
“There she goes--down the street!” cried Mary. “Keep after the fairy mouse, Tommy and Johnny!”
So Tommy and Johnny and Mary kept on running, and they forgot that they were never to go away again--in fact, they forgot about everything, except that they were chasing the fairy mouse.
Faster and faster ran the mousie down the street, around the corner, in and out among the legs and feet of the people, faster and faster. But still the Trippertrots kept on after the little creature, running as hard as they could run, until, all of a sudden, the mouse saw a hole in a fence and ran through the hole, and when Mary and Tommy and Johnny got there, why--there wasn’t any mouse to be seen.
“She--she’s gone!” cried Mary.
“Disappeared!” gasped Tommy, who could use big words, sometimes.
“Maybe she’s run home, and is sleeping under the chair again,” suggested Johnny.
“Oh, then, we must go right back!” said Mary. “I want to get my hair ribbon, and we must soon go to school, and I guess maybe the fairy mouse is doing tricks now. Yes, let’s hurry back home, boys.”
“All right,” said Tommy and Johnny together, like twins, you know, only they weren’t. Well, then a funny thing happened. The Trippertrot children started to go home, but what do you think? They were lost! They looked all around, but they didn’t know any of the streets, and they didn’t see anybody whom they could ask where their house was, for all the people had suddenly gone away.
“Oh, dear!” cried Mary. “It’s happened again.”
“What has?” asked Tommy.
[Illustration: _The Three Little Trippertrots Were Running After the Mouse_]
“Why, we’re lost,” said Mary. “Can’t you see? We can’t find our way home!”
“The fairy mouse did this,” said Johnny. “It’s all part of the game. Wait, maybe she’ll come back, and change into a trolley car, and take us home.”
And then, all of a sudden, it began to rain. Oh, my! How hard the drops splashed down. The children looked to see if they could find the kind fisherman, who might fish up an umbrella, or a pair of rubber boots, or a raincoat for them, but he was not in sight. And Tommy looked to see if the fairy mouse would come back, changed into an automobile, or a trolley car, but nothing like that happened.
All at once, along the street came a newsboy, with a bundle of papers under his arm. He didn’t seem to mind the rain, and he ran up to the children, crying:
“Don’t worry, now. I’ll take care of you. Here, take some of my papers, and hold them over your heads for umbrellas. Then you won’t get wet. Come with me and I’ll take you home.”
Then he handed some papers to Mary, to Tommy, and to Johnny, who held them over their heads like Japanese umbrellas, and they took hold of each others’ hands and ran on. And the rain came down harder than ever, and soon the streets were like little rivers of water.
“Don’t worry!” cried the newsboy. “I’ll look after you.”
“Oh, I think he must be the fairy mouse changed into a boy,” said Mary to her brothers, and Tommy and Johnny nodded their heads, for they thought the same thing.
And, then, all of a sudden, they saw a big wooden box floating down the street, which was now filled with water.
“Oh, this is just the thing!” cried the newsboy. “Come on, little ones,” and he ran toward the box. “We’ll go sailing!”
ADVENTURE NUMBER TWO
THE TRIPPERTROTS GO SAILING
The newsboy kindly helped the children to get in the box, first lifting in Mary, and then Johnny, and then Tommy. Then he got in himself. And all the while it kept on raining harder and harder.
“Oh, my!” cried Mary, as she sat down in a corner of the big box. “This is terrible! Here we are lost again, and we don’t know where we are going.”
“Ah, that is just the best part of it,” said the newsboy.
“Why do you say that?” asked Johnny.
“Because,” said the newsboy, “if you knew where you were going there wouldn’t be any surprise when you got there. And you would know just when you were going to get there, and what you were to do after you arrived. Now it’s all different. We don’t know where we are going, and we don’t know when we’ll get there, and we don’t know what we will do when we get there--if we ever do. At least, I don’t,” he said, with a smile. “Perhaps you children do.”
“No,” answered Mary, with a shake of her head. “I don’t.”
“And I don’t, either,” spoke Tommy.
“Nor I,” added Johnny.
“Oh, this is jolly fun!” cried the newsboy, and then the rain came down harder than ever, and some of it splashed into the big box, which was like a boat sailing along the watery street.
“Oh, dear!” cried Mary, “my dress will get all wet!”
“Oh, I should have thought of that before!” said the newsboy, for the children had taken away the newspapers from over their heads. “Wait, and I’ll make a top over the box. Then we will be as dry as if we were in a house.”
So what do you think he did? He took a lot of his papers from inside the pile under his arm, where they were pretty dry, and he laid them over the open top of the drygoods box, and he fastened them down with some pins, and then the rain didn’t come in any more, for there was a paper roof over the box-ship.
“That’s fine!” exclaimed Mary. “Tell me, are you the fairy mousie, changed into a boy?”
“No,” answered the boy, “I am not. What made you think so?”
“Well, because you think of doing things so quickly, you know. We were chasing after the fairy mousie, that we found asleep on my hair ribbon,” said Mary, “and that’s how we got lost.”
“Well, I’m sorry I’m not the fairy mousie,” said the newsboy, “but perhaps I can help you find her. Now, do you happen to be hungry?”
“Well,” said Tommy, turning his head on one side, so as to let some water run out of his ear, “we had breakfast a little while ago, but I guess I _am_ hungry.”
“And so am I,” said Mary and Johnny.
“Then here is the very thing,” said the newsboy, and with that he pulled some ginger cookies out of his pockets, and gave them to the children--gave them the cookies, not his pockets, you understand.
“Don’t you want some yourself?” asked Mary, politely.
“Oh, bless you, no,” said the newsboy. “I never eat cookies. I’m too big to eat cookies. I’ll chew on a bit of paper instead. Here is a piece with a nice picture on it of a dish of ice-cream and some cake. I’ll eat that bit of paper, and I won’t be hungry for ever so long.”
And, then, what do you think? Why, that funny newsboy ate the piece of paper with the picture of the ice-cream and cake on it, and he wasn’t hungry any more. But, of course, none of you must do that, as it’s only allowed in fairy stories.
“Do you think we’ll ever get home?” asked Johnny, after a bit, when the box had floated down the street for some distance.
“Wait a minute, and I’ll take a look,” said the newsboy, and he peeked through a knot-hole in the side of the box. “Is your house a red one?” he asked the children.
“No, it’s painted green,” said Mary.
“Then the one I saw isn’t it,” spoke the newsboy. “But we may come to it pretty soon.” And then he looked out again, and asked: “Is your house a pink one?”
“Why, no,” said Mary, in surprise, “I think I told you a little while ago that it was painted green.”
“Oh, yes, so you did. Please excuse me,” said the newsboy. “Well, pink is a very pretty color. Wouldn’t you like to live in a pink house?”
“Oh, how funny!” exclaimed Johnny. “We can’t live in any house but our own, you know.”
“No more you can,” said the newsboy. “Well, perhaps we shall come up to it very soon. Where is it?”
“Why, don’t you know?” asked Tommy.
“No, I thought you did,” said the boy. “All the children I ever saw knew where they lived.”
“Oh, but we’re lost,” spoke Mary.
“And besides,” said Johnny, “we’re the Trippertrots. We never know where we live; do we, Tommy?”
“No,” said Tommy, with a laugh.
“Well, it’s very strange,” went on the newsboy. “I’ll give one more look, and then, maybe, I can see your house. I thought I could take you home, but if you don’t know where you live I’m sure it’s going to be quite a puzzle--quite a puzzle,” and he shook his head up and down, and sideways.
Then the drygoods box-ship went sailing on and on down the street, and the rain kept on raining down harder and harder, and the Trippertrots went on faster and faster. Presently the newsboy said:
“Well, now I’ll take another look and see if I can find your house.” So once more he looked out of the knot-hole in the drygoods box, and then he asked Mary: “Could your house possibly be a purple one? I see a nice purple one just ahead of us.”
“No, our house is green!” exclaimed Mary, as politely as she could. “I told you that before.”
“Oh, so you did!” cried the newsboy. “How very careless of me to forget so often. I don’t suppose you’d like to live in a purple house, would you?” and he looked at Johnny and Tommy.
“I don’t think I would,” said Johnny.
“No, green is our color,” spoke Tommy.
“I was afraid so,” went on the newsboy, with a sigh. “Well, all I can do is to float along with you until we get to a green house. Then you’ll be home.”
“But it might be some other green house than ours,” said Mary. “Many houses are painted green.”