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

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.

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.”

“You don’t say so!” cried the newsboy. “I never thought of that. I haven’t seen any green houses to-day, though, and maybe the first one we come to will be yours. It’s very strange. I never thought there would be so much trouble in finding the house of the Trippertrots. But never mind. Have some more molasses cookies,” and he took a number of them out of his pockets, and the children were very glad to get them, for they were hungry again.

Then they sailed on some more, and some more, and they were wondering if they would ever get home, and they began to wish that they hadn’t chased out after the fairy mouse, for they had not been so far away from home since the time they went on a train after seeing the pink cow.

And then, all at once, just as the drygoods box-ship was sailing around the corner of the street, and the Trippertrot children and the newsboy were down under the papers on top, so the rain wouldn’t get them—all at once, I say—there was a bumpity-bump noise.

“What’s that?” cried Tommy.

“We’ve hit something,” said Mary.

“Yes, you’ve hit me!” exclaimed a voice, and then the big box suddenly stopped, and a funny boy poked his head in the top through the newspapers.

“We didn’t mean to hit you,” said Tommy, politely, “but our box went very fast.”

“And we couldn’t see where we were going,” added Johnny.

“All except the newsboy, and he has to keep looking through the knot-hole to see our green house,” explained Mary. “He might have seen you, but he didn’t.”

“We’re very sorry if we hurt you, funny boy,” said the newsboy, sad like.

“Oh, pray do not mention it,” said the boy who had stopped the drygoods box, as it was floating down the street. “It was merely a little bump on my nose.” Then he began to turn somersaults until he had somersaulted through the papers on top, just as the circus man jumps through a paper hoop, right inside the box where the Trippertrot children were, and all of a sudden Mary cried out:

“Why, it’s Jiggily Jig, the funny boy!”

“Yes, of course it is!” cried Tommy and Johnny.

“Not the least doubt of it,” said Jiggily Jig, who was called that, you remember, because he was always dancing a jig.

“But where did you leave Simple Simon?” asked Mary, for the last they had seen of Jiggily Jig was when he was running off with Simple Simon, after they had met the pieman coming from the circus.

“Oh, Simple Simon has gone to work for the pieman,” said Jiggily Jig. “He had to have pie so often that his mother sent him there instead of after water in a sieve. Now watch me,” and Jiggily Jig turned two somersaults, one after another, and the drygoods box nearly upset, and the rain came down harder than ever.

“Wait! Hold on!” cried the newsboy. “This will never do! Do you know these children, Jiggily Jig?”

“To be sure I do,” answered the funny boy, “and I will take them home, for they are lost. I know they are. They are always lost; aren’t you?” and he looked at Mary and Tommy and Johnny.

“Yes,” said the Trippertrot children, in a chorus, “we are always lost.”

“But don’t worry, I will take you home,” said Jiggily Jig, with a jolly laugh. “You are going the wrong way. This boat must be turned around,” and with that he jumped out, and turned a somersault in the water, turned the box around, jumped in again, and the rain came down harder than ever.

“We’ll soon be home!” cried Jiggily Jig. “We’ll soon be at your green house,” and then the wind began to blow, and Jiggily Jig made a sail out of the newspapers, put it up on the edge of the box, with a piece of wood for a mast, and away they went as fast as fast could be, sailing in the drygoods box-ship.

All of a sudden, the wind began to blow harder than ever, and the children were afraid that it might blow the sail off their little ship.

“Don’t worry about that,” said Jiggily Jig. “I made the sail good and strong. It won’t blow away.”

“But hadn’t you better look?” suggested Mary. “It would be no fun to be sailing along without a sail.”

“I will look, just to oblige you,” spoke the funny boy. “First I will do a little dance in here, and then I will peek out to see if the sail is all right.”

“Well, kindly do not step on my toes, and wake me up,” begged the newsboy, speaking in his sleep, for he had stretched out on the bottom of the box, and was slumbering.

“Not for this whole world, and part of the moon,” answered the funny boy. So he did his little dance, being careful not to step on the newsboy’s toes, and then Jiggily lifted up the papers, that were over the top of the box, and looked out. Next he gave a cry:

“Oh, my!” he exclaimed.

“What is the matter?” asked Mary, quickly.

“Are we at our house?” inquired Tommy, hopefully.

“Far, far from it,” replied Jiggily Jig, sadly. “Look for yourselves, children,” and he took all the paper covering off the top of the box, for it had stopped raining.

“Oh!” gasped Mary, as she looked out.

“Oh! oh!” cried Tommy.

“Oh! oh! oh!” exclaimed Johnny.

And well they might be surprised, for their boat had been blown by the wind far away from the city streets, where they had been sailing, and now they were away out on a sort of lake, in a big green meadow. Off in the distance were hills, with trees on them, and it was just like some picture they had seen of a fairy boat sailing over a fairy lake.

“Oh, where are we?” asked Mary.

“I never saw this place before,” spoke Johnny.

“Nor I,” added Tommy.

“No matter where we are, it is a nice place,” went on Jiggily Jig. “Wake up, newsboy, and see where we are. There is no more rain, and you can’t get wet.”

So the newsboy stretched out his arms and his legs, and he opened his mouth, and he opened his eyes, and then he was awake, and he stood up to see what he could see.

“Oh, this is lovely!” he cried. “I always wanted to go out to the country, and now I am here. This must be the country, for it isn’t the city,” he added.

Then the box-ship sailed on farther and farther, over the lake in the meadows, and the Trippertrots and the newsboy and Jiggily Jig looked all about them, and were quite happy.

Suddenly the wind blew them right toward a little island, that was in the middle of the lake.

“Let’s get out here, and pretend we’re camping in the woods,” suggested Johnny.

“Oh, yes!” cried Mary and Tommy. So they all got out of the drygoods box, and landed on the island. It was a nice island, with trees on, and some dry wood piled up in a little cave near a place where there were some flat stones.

“I know what let’s do,” proposed Tommy. “Let’s make a fireplace, and cook a dinner, just as if we were shipwrecked sailors.”

“Oh, fine!” exclaimed Johnny.

“And I’ll wash the dishes,” said Mary.

“But we haven’t any dishes to wash,” spoke Tommy.

“And nothing to cook at the fire, or even put on the dishes, so there is no use washing them,” added his brother, sorrowful like.

“That’s so,” agreed Mary. “But perhaps Jiggily Jig, or the newsboy, has something we can cook.”

They both looked in their pockets, and the newsboy shook his head.

“I have nothing,” he said.

“Oh, but I have!” cried Jiggily. “I have found some apples. The pieman gave them to me the other day. They will be fine to roast at the fire.”

Tommy and Johnny made the fire on the flat stones, taking care not to burn themselves, and then, when there were some hot embers ready, the apples were put down in front of them, on the warm stones, and they began to roast—I mean the apples roasted, not the stones, you understand.

“Oh, how lovely they smell!” exclaimed Mary, as Jiggily turned the apples around with a sharp stick, so they wouldn’t burn.

“Yes, they will soon be ready to eat,” said the funny boy, and, surely enough, they were.

“But what shall we do for forks?” asked Tommy.

“A pointed stick will do for a knife and a fork, too,” said the newsboy. “I’ve often eaten that way. You just stick your roast apple on the point of the stick, and eat it.”

“What, eat the stick?” asked Tommy.

“No, eat the apple,” said the newsboy, laughing.

“Well, the apples are roasted now, and you can eat them,” said Jiggily, after a bit. So he whittled out a pointed stick for everybody, and stuck an apple on each one, and soon the travelers were sitting about the camp-fire, eating the apples, and very good they were, too. I wish I had one right this minute, but I’m not allowed to, you know.

“Well, perhaps we had better start off again,” suggested Tommy, when the apples were eaten. “We must soon get home, if we can.”

“All right,” said Jiggily.

“And we had better take some sticks, to use for oars, or paddles, or to push ourselves along with, in case there is no wind to blow the sail,” spoke Tommy. They all thought this was a good plan, so the three Trippertrots, and the newsboy, and Jiggily each got a tree branch.

Well, they climbed into the box-ship again, and Jiggily pushed off from the island, and away they went sailing once more. Then Jiggily and the newsboy stretched out on the bottom of the box, where you couldn’t see them unless you went up in a balloon, and they both went fast, fast to sleep.

On and on sailed the drygoods box, over the pretty lake, over toward the hills with trees on them, until finally Tommy said:

“Oh, let’s use our sticks to row with, and then we’ll go faster. There isn’t much wind now, and we’re not going along very quickly. Let’s push and row with the sticks.”

So they did that, and they went along very well. Only, they had accidents. Sometimes Tommy’s hat would blow off into the water, and he and Johnny would have to fish it out with their stick-oars. And sometimes Johnny’s hat would blow off, and he and his brother would have to reach for it.

And sometimes Tommy would reach for his own hat all alone, and sometimes Johnny would have to fish up his own hat all alone, when Tommy was attending to the sail. And so it went on; when it wasn’t one thing it was another.

The newsboy and Jiggily Jig slept on, in the bottom of the box, and they had a lovely time, with nothing to do. And the Trippertrots had lots of fun, too, sailing away.

Sometimes it would rain, and they would put the papers over the top of the box, and then the drops would stop coming down, and they could take off the papers, stand up, and paddle again.

On and on they went, and once the newsboy awakened, and most unexpectedly he found some more molasses cookies in his pocket, and he gave all his friends some, and some he ate himself, and then he went to sleep again—he and Jiggily.

Farther and farther they sailed—those Trippertrot children, until, all of a sudden, Mary looked out from behind the newspaper sail, and she exclaimed:

“Oh, here we are back in the streets of the city again! We are sailing in the gutters, just as we were before.”

“Sure enough, so we are!” said Tommy, and they really were back where they had been, before they got out on the little lake in the meadow. Then the wind blew on the sail, and the box-ship went on and on, through the rain, which came down pitter-patter again.

And a very funny thing happened soon after that.

ADVENTURE NUMBER THREE
THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE TOY BALLOONS

“Oh, do you think you will ever find our house?” asked Mary, as she sat down on the bottom of the box, and ate up the last crumbs of the molasses cookies which the newsboy had given her and her brothers.

“Oh, I’m sure we will!” exclaimed Jiggily Jig, suddenly awakening.

“And will we be there soon?” asked Tommy.

“Very soon,” answered Jiggily Jig, trying to turn a somersault inside the box. But there wasn’t room enough, and Jiggily stepped on the newsboy’s toes.

“Ouch! Don’t do that, please!” cried the newsboy. “Please don’t step on my toes.”

“Why, did I hurt you?” asked the funny boy.

“No, but you woke me up. I was asleep,” answered the newsboy. “As long as you are captain of this box-ship I know everything will go along all right, and you will get the Trippertrots home safely, so I am going to sleep. But I can’t sleep if you turn somersaults in here, and step on my toes. Nobody could sleep when their toes were being stepped on. I leave it to you, now; could they, children?”

“I don’t hardly think they could,” said Mary, politely, for she did not want to make Jiggily Jig feel badly.

“And I’m not sure, as no one ever stepped on my toes when I was asleep,” said Tommy, “but I think it must be quite unpleasant.”

“There, you see how it is, Jiggily Jig!” exclaimed the newsboy. “I’m quite right about it.”

“To be sure you are,” admitted Jiggily Jig. “I never thought of it that way before. I’ll stop turning somersaults directly. But may I dance a few jigs?” he asked, and he made a polite bow to Mary, and also to Tommy and Johnny, and the newsboy.

“Do you really have to dance?” the newsboy asked. “Because if you don’t really have to, it might be just as well not to. You might step on my toes again.”

“Oh, yes, I have to dance,” said Jiggily Jig, “or else I would have to change my name to Joggily Jog, and I wouldn’t like that at all. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll dance just a little bit, and I’ll take good care not to step on anybody’s toes.”

So then and there, in the drygoods box-ship, Jiggily Jig danced a nice dance, and as truly as I’m telling you, he didn’t step even on his own toes. Oh, Jiggily was quite a wonderful boy!

And, all this while the box-ship, with the paper sail, was sailing down the street, which was filled with water from the rain-storm. But none of the rain came inside, because the newsboy had put more papers over the top of the box to keep the wet outside.

“We don’t seem to be getting home very fast,” said Johnny, after a while, “and I’m sure when we do get there, we’ll be late for school.”

“I’m afraid so, too,” said Mary.

“Never mind,” spoke Jiggily Jig. “You can tell the teacher all about what happened to you, and how you went after the little fairy mouse, and then how you went sailing. She will surely excuse you.”

“Maybe she will,” said Tommy. “But I wish we were home, because I am hungry again. I wonder if the newsboy has any more cookies in his pockets. I’m going to ask him.”

“Hush! Don’t do that,” said Mary, softly, “for he is asleep, and we ought not to wake him up.”

“But I am hungry,” said Tommy.

“Wait, I think I can look in his pockets without making him wake up,” spoke Jiggily Jig, and he did so. But, alas! there were no more cookies to be had.

“Never mind,” said Mary, “we will soon be home.”

“Yes,” said Jiggily Jig, “I’ll look out of the knot-hole in the box, and see if I can find your house.”

So Jiggily Jig did this, and all of a sudden he cried out:

“Oh, joy! Oh, joy! Oh, joy!” three times, just like that, he cried it.

“What! do you see our house?” asked Mary, and she was so excited that she turned around and nearly stepped on the toes of the newsboy, who was asleep—he was asleep, and his toes were, too, I guess, just as, sometimes, your foot goes to sleep when you sit on it. “Do you see our house?” asked Mary.

“No, but I can see that it has stopped raining again,” answered Jiggily Jig. “Now we can sail along without having the newspapers over the top of the box to keep out the water. I’m real glad of that.”

So he took the papers off the top of the box again and it sailed down the street for quite a distance, with the wind blowing the paper sail as nicely as could be, and the Trippertrot children thought they would soon be home. You see, the newsboy’s papers had some wax on them, which the kind honey-bees had put there, so the rain didn’t melt them.

“Will you please look again, Jiggily Jig,” asked Tommy, “and see if you can find our house now? It’s painted green, you know.”

So Jiggily Jig looked out of the knot-hole in the side of the box, and all at once he cried out:

“Oh, joy! I see something green. That must be your house. Get ready now, the boat is going to land,” and he was so excited that he turned a somersault without thinking, and came down on the toes of the sleeping newsboy.

“Oh! Ouch! Oh, my!” cried the newsboy, as he woke up. “What has happened?”

“I saw something green. It’s the house of the Trippertrots!” cried Jiggily, as he danced a little jig. “Forgive me for stepping on your toes,” he said to the newsboy, politely. “I was so excited that I could not help it.”

“Oh, that is all right,” answered the newsboy, kindly. “As long as I can be sure that these children get safely home I don’t much care what happens. May I see the house?”

“Yes, look through this hole,” said Jiggily Jig, and he pointed to the one in the side of the box. “You will see something green,” he went on, “and that must be the home of the Trippertrots.”

“Oh, I don’t have to look through the hole,” said the newsboy. “As long as the rain isn’t coming down any more, I can look out of the top of the box, and I can see better.”

So he stood up, and looked at the green thing that Jiggily Jig had seen, and then, all of a sudden, the newsboy cried out:

“Oh, dear! What a disappointment! Oh, dear!”

“Why, whatever is the matter?” asked Mary, surprised like.

“Oh, that isn’t your house at all,” went on the newsboy.

“Why, it’s green; isn’t it?” asked Jiggily Jig.

“Yes, it’s green,” said the newsboy.

“Well, the Trippertrot house is green,” answered Jiggily Jig.

“I know, but just you take a look at this,” invited the newsboy. “Why, that green thing you saw was a man with a whole lot of toy, green balloons, such as you see in the circus. And he is coming this way with them.”

“Oh, goody!” cried Tommy Trippertrot, “maybe he will give us some, and we can have a lot of fun with them.”

“Have you got any money?” asked Johnny.

“No,” said Tommy, sorrowfully, “I haven’t.”

“Then you can’t get any toy balloons,” spoke his brother.

“Perhaps Jiggily Jig, or the newsboy, would lend us a little money, until we can get some of our own when we reach home,” said Mary.

“Yes,” spoke the newsboy. “I will lend you as much as you need.”

Then the man with the toy, green balloons came closer to the drygoods box-ship, and he caught hold of it, and stopped it from sailing any farther, and he sang this little song:

“Toy balloons! Oh, toy balloons!

They sail as high as silver moons!

If you a toy balloon will buy,