Part 6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ADVENTURE NUMBER ELEVEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE LITTLE BABY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So Tommy looked, and then he cried out:

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

“Really?” asked Mary.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whoa! Whoa there, horsie!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So do I,” added his brother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Illustration: “AND SUCH BEAUTIFUL PRESENTS,” MURMURED JOHNNY]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ADVENTURE NUMBER TWELVE

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE BABY CARRIAGE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, we have a dog!” cried Mary.

“His name is Fido!” said Tommy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said the lady.

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

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

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

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

“Goodness me!” exclaimed the lady.

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

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

ADVENTURE NUMBER THIRTEEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE OLD MAN’S HAT

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

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

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