Part 5

“Oh, he’ll eat almost any kind,” replied the pieman, “but most especially he likes a Christmas pie, the kind I always make for little Jack Horner, who sits in a corner. Yes, Simon is very fond of Christmas pies, with sugar plums in them.”

“Do you make pies for Jack Horner?” asked Johnny.

“To be sure,” answered the pieman, “else he wouldn’t have any to stick his thumb in. But come, now, choose your custard pie, and after you eat it we’ll travel on and see if you can find your home.”

“Why, don’t you know where it is?” asked Mary.

“No,” answered the pieman. “I thought you did.”

“Oh, there we go again!” cried Tommy. “We’re lost once more! Jiggily Jig knew where our house was, but he’s gone off!”

“Yes, he’s gone off, sure enough,” agreed the pieman, and he looked down the street, but he couldn’t see either Jiggily Jig or Simple Simon.

“I thought perhaps Jiggily Jig would have told you where our house was before he began turning those somersaults,” said Mary.

“Bless you, no, he didn’t,” answered the pieman. “But you never can depend on Jiggily Jig. He’s too fond of doing funny tricks. But don’t worry. I dare say I can manage to find your house. So come along, eat your pie, and be happy.”

Then he cut a nice, fresh custard pie for them, and gave them each a piece. Oh, it was most delicious! Which means very nice, you know. Yes, that pie was certainly good, and I wish I could give you all some, if you were allowed to eat it, but I’m not--I mean I’m not allowed to give you any, because there wouldn’t be enough to go around.

“Well, now, if you’re all ready, we’ll start off,” said the kind pieman, when the Trippertrot children had finished eating. “We will go up one street and down another, and perhaps after a while we may come to your home.”

“I’m afraid we won’t,” answered Mary. “We always do seem to have such bad luck in losing our home. I’m sure we never mean to run off, but something always seems to happen.”

“This time it was a fire,” said Johnny.

“And the other time it was a little lost girl, crying in the street,” spoke Tommy.

“Well, never mind,” said the pieman. “I’ll sing a little song as we go along, and people will come to the doors or windows of their houses to see what I have to sell, and some of the people may see you children, and know you. Then they can tell me where to take you home.”

“Oh, goody!” cried Mary, dancing up and down, almost like Jiggily Jig did.

“Lots and lots of people know us,” said Johnny. “I’m sure that would be a very good plan.”

“Then we’ll do it,” spoke the pieman. “Now let me see, what song shall I sing? Oh, I know one.” And then he sang this song:

“I am a jolly pieman, My pies are nice and sweet; They’re made of many different things For boys and girls to eat. If you would kindly try them, I think you’d like them, too, Because there is a special pie Made specially for you.

“There’s lemon, peach and apple, And cocoanut and plum, And custard pie and orange, And also chewing-gum. But, best of all, is Christmas, A pie you all may eat, The kind Jack Horner had when he Sat in his corner seat.”

Well, no sooner had the kind pieman finished his song than all the people along the street began opening their doors and windows, and putting their heads out.

“Ho! Ho!” cried some boys and girls who were just home from school. “We would like some pies.”

“Then come and get them,” said the pieman, and the boys and girls, and lots of ladies, also, came around the pieman’s wagon, and bought his pies.

Then, when he was wrapping up the pies, or taking in the money, or making change, the pieman would say:

“Do any of you boys or girls, or ladies know where these children live?”

“Why, don’t they know where they live themselves?” asked one lady.

“Oh, no,” answered the pieman. “These are the three little Trippertrots, and they are always getting lost. I am looking for their house as I go along selling pies.”

But no one seemed to know where Mary or Johnny or Tommy lived. Lots and lots of boys and girls and ladies and men came out to buy pies, and they looked at the children, but none knew where they lived.

“Maybe some big giant has moved our house away,” said Tommy, “and that’s why we can’t find it.”

“Oh, of course not!” exclaimed Mary. “Giants don’t live around here.”

“Well, I wish they did,” said Johnny quickly.

“Why?” asked Tommy.

“Oh, then we could ask one of them to take us up on his shoulder, and he could walk about two of his steps and he would be right at our house, and we’d be home,” went on Johnny. “But I s’pose that can’t happen. We’ll have to trip and trot along until the pieman finds our house.”

So along through the streets they went, the pieman singing his little song, and selling pies, and asking all the people he met if they knew where the Trippertrots lived.

But no one did, and Mary and Tommy and Johnny were beginning to think they would never find their papa or mamma, or Suzette, the nursemaid, again.

And then, all of a sudden, as the pieman was pushing his cart down a little street where there were lots of trees, and many small houses with red chimneys on them sticking up through the roof--all of a sudden, I say--out ran a little girl, holding a dollie in her arms.

“Oh, Mr. Pieman!” cried the little girl. “I have been waiting such a long time for you!”

“Why, what is the matter?” asked the kind pieman.

“Oh, Sallie, my doll, is very ill,” said the little girl, “and I want some sawdust pie for her.”

“I have just one left,” said the pieman. “Here it is, and I hope she will soon be better.” Then he wrapped up the sawdust pie for the little girl’s doll, and he asked her--asked the little girl, I mean--if she knew where the Trippertrots lived. “For I can’t seem to find their home,” said the kind pieman, blinking both his eyes at once.

“No, I don’t know, where they live,” said the little girl, as she looked carefully at Mary, Johnny and Tommy.

“Oh, dear!” cried Mary. “I’m so tired walking about, looking for our home.”

“So am I!” exclaimed Johnny and Tommy.

“Then I know the very thing to do,” said the little girl, as she looked in the paper to see if her sawdust pie was all right. “Here comes the banana man, and he has quite a large wagon which he pushes about on its two wheels. Let him take you on his wagon, and ride you through the streets, and perhaps you may find your home that way.”

“Oh, goody!” cried Mary.

“It will be fun to ride in the banana wagon,” said Johnny, jumping up and down.

“Yes, and I think he can take us home,” spoke Tommy.

And just then along came the banana man, and he said he would be very glad to help the Trippertrots get home. So the pieman said good-by to them, and gave them each a little custard pie, and then he went off to find Simple Simon and Jiggly Jig.

“Jump on my wagon,” said the banana man, and the Trippertrot children did so, as there was lots of room. Up they hopped, and away they went along the street, looking for their house, and wondering how long it would be before they found the place.

ADVENTURE NUMBER TWELVE

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE BANANA MAN

“It’s almost as nice to ride on a banana wagon as it is on a load of hay,” said Mary. “This is just lovely, I think.”

“So do I,” agreed Tommy. “And there really _is_ hay on this wagon, so it’s almost like a straw ride.”

“Oh, yes, I always put the bananas on soft hay, so they won’t break open when the wagon goes over rough stones,” said the banana man. “But hold tight, now, as I am going very fast.” And so he did, and the children were bounced about, and up and down a bit, but then the hay was so soft that they didn’t get hurt in the least.

“Do you know where our house is?” asked Johnny, after a bit.

“No, but I think I can find it,” answered the banana man. “I know where lots and lots of houses are, and I’m sure one of them must be yours. I’ll go along through the street, and you can look at all the houses you see, and pretty soon you’ll see the right one.”

“Oh, but we have been away from home a long time,” said Tommy. “Ever since early this morning, when we went after the kind fireman to thank him. And we’ve been lost from then on.”

“And maybe some one has painted our house a different color,” spoke Johnny, “so we won’t know it even when we see it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” spoke the banana man. “They couldn’t have painted your house since morning, and it isn’t night yet.”

“The false-face man could,” said Mary. “He is a very fast painter, but then I know he would make funny faces on our house, if he _did_ paint it, so we would know it anyhow.”

“Yes, that’s right,” said the banana man. “But lie down, now, and rest yourselves, and I will wheel you up first one street and then down the other, and soon you may be home.”

So he did that, and lots and lots of persons stopped to look at the funny sight of three lost children sitting on the hay in a two-wheeled banana wagon.

“Do you happen to know where they live?” the banana man would ask the different people who crowded around his wagon.

“No,” said every one, and the men and women shook their heads.

“Do you know any of these people?” the banana man then asked of the Trippertrot children. But neither Mary nor Johnny nor Tommy knew any of them.

“Then we will have to go along a little farther,” said the banana man; and so he went up some streets that were hilly, and down some that were smooth, and along some that were very rough with cobblestones, and all the while he kept wheeling the children in his wagon, or cart, if you’d rather call it that.

And once the wagon went over a stick of wood, and tipped to one side, and Mary nearly fell out. She would have, only Tommy grabbed her just in time, and held her on the hay.

And a little later there was a dog chasing a cat, and the cat ran so fast to get away from the dog that the pussy jumped right up in the wagon, into Mary’s lap.

“Oh, you poor, dear little pussy!” cried Mary, as she rubbed the cat’s fur, and tried to make its tail smaller, for it was all swelled up on account of the dog, you know.

“That cat looks like our cat, Ivy Vine,” said Tommy, when the banana man had driven away the dog.

“Oh, yes, I just wish Ivy Vine was here now,” said Mary.

“And I wish Fido was here,” spoke Johnny. “He is kind to cats.”

“Yes, if we could only find Ivy and Fido, they would show us the way home.” And Mary sighed a little, and a salty tear fell out of her left eye.

“Never mind,” said the banana man. “I think we will soon be there.” But he talked in a tired voice, for his legs were very weary with tramping around all day, selling bananas, and then giving the lost children a ride up and down so many streets, looking for their home. Still he wouldn’t give up.

Pretty soon they came to where a man was selling hot, roasted chestnuts, and also some cold, boiled ones. And the banana man knew the chestnut man, and bought some nuts from him and gave them to the lost Trippertrots, for they were hungry again, those three children were.

“Oh, it doesn’t seem as if we were ever going to be at home again!” said Mary, after a while, when she had eaten some of the roasted chestnuts.

“No, indeed,” spoke Johnny, as he ate some boiled ones.

“I’m never going to run away again,” said Tommy, “not even if the chimney does get on fire.”

“Or even if the house falls down,” added Mary. And then they put their arms around one another and sat there on the banana wagon, and wished they were home.

And the banana man did the best he could. He looked at all the houses, and he asked lots of people where the Trippertrots lived, but none knew.

“I guess you will have to look for the kind policeman again,” suggested Tommy. “He can find our house for us.”

“Or else Mr. Johnson, who took us home in his automobile, the other time when we were lost,” added Johnny. “He might help us.”

“Perhaps I had better look for a policeman,” said the banana man, for he was now very tired, because it was like pushing three baby carriages, made into one, to push the Trippertrots about on the banana wagon.

So he looked all over for a policeman, but he couldn’t see any. I guess they were all down at the big fire, where all the firemen had gone. And the banana man couldn’t even see the pieman or Simple Simon, nor even Jiggily Jig.

“Oh! Whatever shall we do?” cried Mary.

“I don’t know,” answered Johnny. “Do you, Tommy?”

“No, I don’t know, either,” replied Tommy Trippertrot.

But just then they turned around the corner of the street, and they heard some music playing, and there was a hand-organ man, with a monkey!

“Oh, goody!” cried Mary. “There is the hand-organ man who once rode with us in the automobile, and he will know where we live.”

“No, I am sorry to say I don’t know where you live,” answered the hand-organ man, when they had asked him. “You see, I am a new man here, and not the one you thought I was. I just bought this organ and the monkey from the man who rode with you in the auto. The monkey may know where you live, but I don’t.”

“Then let’s ask the monkey,” suggested Tommy.

So they asked the monkey. But, bless you! the monkey couldn’t talk, you know, and all he did was to take off his cap and make a low bow, as if he was asking for pennies.

“That’s of no use,” said Tommy hopelessly.

“No,” agreed Mary. “We’ll never get home that way.”

Well, the three little Trippertrots didn’t know what to do, and they were almost ready to cry, when, all at once, Johnny gave a loud shout.

“What’s the matter?” asked Mary. “Are you hurt?”

“No! But look!” cried Johnny. “There comes Ivy Vine, our cat!”

“And there comes Fido, our dog!” exclaimed Tommy, and he pointed to the dog and cat coming down the street together like twins, only, of course, they weren’t twins--dogs and cats can’t be twins, you know.

“Oh, now we will find our way home,” said Mary. “Ivy and Fido will lead us. We can’t be far from our house.”

“I am glad of it,” said the banana man, who was more tired than ever.

“Here, Fido! Fido!” called Tommy.

“Come, Ivy! Ivy!” cried Mary.

The dog and the cat came running up to the children, and they were very glad to see them. I mean the children were glad to see Fido and Ivy Vine, and Ivy Vine and Fido were glad to see the children. So they were all glad, even the banana man.

“Now show us the way home, Fido!” called Tommy, and, somehow or other, Fido understood, for he wagged his tail so hard that it almost dropped off, and Ivy Vine wagged her tail, and then they trotted on ahead of the banana wagon. They looked back every now and then, to see if the wagon was coming.

“Just follow them, and we’ll soon be at our home,” said Mary. And the banana man did so, riding the children on his cart, and a little later, just as they went around a corner, there was the Trippertrots’ house!

“Oh, we’re home! We’re home!” cried Mary joyfully.

“And how glad we are!” cried Tommy and Johnny, and they all hugged each other. Fido capered about, barking as loudly as he could; and then out ran Suzette and Mr. Trippertrot and Mrs. Trippertrot.

“Oh, you children!” cried their mamma. “Lost again, I suppose!”

“Yes’m,” answered Mary.

“And we were looking all over for you,” said their papa.

“But Fido and Ivy Vine and the banana man brought us home,” explained Tommy, “and we had some wonderful adventures since we went to thank the fireman.”

“Well, please don’t ever have any more,” said their mamma.

“No’m, we won’t,” answered Mary.

Then they all went into the house and had supper, and Mr. Trippertrot thanked the banana man very kindly, and gave him some money.

“I don’t want any more adventures very soon,” said Tommy.

But my goodness sakes alive and the mustard spoon! It wasn’t any time at all before those three little Trippertrots had something more happen to them.

ADVENTURE NUMBER THIRTEEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE DANCING BEARS

The three little Trippertrots were in the house one day, looking out of the window. Suzette, the nursemaid, was in the next room, trying to mend a hole that Mary had torn in her red dress. I mean that Mary had torn a hole in her own dress, not in Suzette’s, you understand, of course. And the way it happened was this:

They were playing soldiers, the Trippertrot children were, Tommy and Johnny and Mary, and Tommy had a make-believe gun. It was really the poker from the stove, but it looked something like a gun.

And they were having a great battle, making believe shoot off the poker-gun bang-bang, you know, when, all of a sudden, Mary ran past Tommy, and the poker caught in her dress, and tore a hole in the cloth.

“Oh, I’m afraid you can’t play soldiers any more,” said Mrs. Trippertrot. “It’s too rough a game. Please play something gentle, that doesn’t make so much noise.”

So Mary and Tommy and Johnny played a guessing game; that is, they tried to guess how many people were in the trolley cars that passed the window, or how many letters the postman had in his bag, or how fast the butcher boy could run when a pussy cat chased him, and all guessing games like that. So that’s the reason, as I told you at first, why the Trippertrots were looking out of the window of their house.

“Oh, I’m tired of this,” said Tommy at last.

“And so am I,” said Mary.

“What can we do?” asked Johnny.

“Oh, let’s make-believe we’re lost again,” suggested Mary. “We can pretend that the parlor is away off downtown, and that the dining-room is another city, and the kitchen can be a cave where a fairy lives, and upstairs--I wonder what upstairs can be?”

“That will be a mountain, of course,” said Tommy. “The stairs are high, and so are mountains; and I’m going to climb one, and get lost on the top, and build a campfire, and sleep there all night.”

“Pooh! You sleep upstairs all night, anyhow,” said Johnny. “Our beds are there.”

“Oh, but this is only a make-believe mountain,” said Tommy. “Come on! All ready to play this game! We’ll see who will be the first one to get lost.”

Well, the Trippertrots played that game a long time, and then Suzette had Mary’s dress mended, and the nursemaid went to answer the back doorbell, for the butcher boy was there with some meat for supper.

Now in about a minute you will see where the dancing bears appear in this story. I’m almost up to that part, so watch closely.

When Suzette was at the back door, Mrs. Trippertrot happened to think there was no bread in the house for dinner.

“I know what I will do,” said the children’s mamma. “I will just run next door to Mrs. Johnson’s, and borrow a loaf. Now don’t you children go outside while I’m gone!” she called to Tommy and Mary and Johnny.

“Not even in case of something most extra-extra-extraordinary happening?” asked Johnny.

“Oh, I suppose if it’s something most extraordinary you may go out for a minute,” answered Mrs. Trippertrot, “but don’t you dare to get lost.”

So they promised that they wouldn’t, and then they went back to play the game of looking out of the windows, and Mary said:

“Oh, I wish something most extra-extraordinary would come along!”

“So do I!” exclaimed Tommy.

“And there it is!” suddenly cried Johnny. “If that isn’t extraordinary, I’d like to know what is!”

And sure enough, down the street came a man with three dancing bears. There was a little bear and a middle-sized bear and a big bear, just as in the story book. And the man had a horn, on which he played jolly, funny little tunes.

“Oh, I hope the bears dance where we can see them,” said Mary, and Tommy and Johnny said the same thing; and really it was just as if the dancing-bear man heard the Trippertrot children, for, sure enough, he stopped in front of their house, and began to blow a tune on his horn.

“Hum tum-tum tiddle di de um, Hum tum-tum tiddle day; Dum-dum-dum fiddle faddle de um, Ho tum-tum skiddle ray.”

And with that, those bears stood up on their hind legs, and began to dance around almost as well as you or I could do it. I’m sure you would have been very glad to see them, for they were such nice bears.

The big bear took big steps when he danced, and the middle-sized bear took middle-sized steps, and, of course, the little bear had to take little steps, for that was all the kind of steps that were left, but they suited him exactly.

“Oh! Aren’t they fine!” cried Mary.

“Yes. I wish we had one,” said Johnny.

“Oh, I don’t!” exclaimed his sister. “He might scratch us, not meaning to, you know, but accidentally. I don’t want a bear in the house.”

“I think it would be fun,” said Tommy. “We could play we were hunters on a mountain, and make-believe shoot the bear, only, of course, we wouldn’t _really_ do it.”

“Oh, look! Look!” suddenly cried Mary. “One bear is climbing a telegraph pole!” And, sure enough, the middle-sized bear was doing that, while the man played more tunes on his horn.

“Oh, look there!” cried Johnny. “The big bear is standing on his head!” And, just as true as I’m telling you, he was.

“See! See!” exclaimed Tommy. “The little bear is turning somersaults just like Simple Simon and Jiggily Jig did! Isn’t it great!”

Well, the man made the dancing bears do many more tricks, and then he held out his hat for money, for that was how he made his living. And Suzette gave the children some money to give to the bearman.

Then the man made a bow, to show that he was thankful, and the bears made bows, too, to show they were thankful, for if the man hadn’t gotten any money the bears wouldn’t have had much for supper. Then they started off up the street to dance some more.

“Oh, I’m sorry they’re gone!” said Mary, and her brothers were, also; and they were just wondering what else they could do to have fun, when, all of a sudden, Tommy cried:

“Look! Look! The little bear has run away from the man, and is coming back here!”

“Yes, and I guess the man doesn’t know it, or he would come back after him,” said Johnny. “I think we ought to go out and catch the little bear for the man.”

“Oh, don’t you do it!” cried Mary, shivering.

“Why, he’s tame, and won’t hurt me,” said Tommy. “Besides, we would be doing the man a kindness.”

“But mamma doesn’t want us to go out of the house,” said Mary, for she could now see the bear quite plainly, as he was right in front of the house again, and he was so kind and gentle-looking, and he seemed to smile so at the children, that they just loved him.

“I’m going out and catch him for the man, and give him something to eat,” said Tommy.

“Who? The man or the bear?” asked Johnny.

“The little bear. See! He has a chain on his neck, and we can lead him by that. Come on.”

“Oh, dear! Well, I s’pose I’ll have to go, too,” said Mary. “This is one of those most extra-extraordinary occasions, I guess. But I do hope we’re not lost again.”

“Hurry up!” called Johnny. “We can catch the bear, take him to the man, and soon be in the house again.”

Well, would you ever believe it if I didn’t tell you? That little bear just stood still when the Trippertrot children came up to him, and he almost seemed to smile, you know the way bears do, by opening his mouth, and then he made a low bow.

“Oh, I almost believe he could talk, if he wanted to, he is so cute,” said Mary.

“Come along, little bear,” spoke Tommy.

“Yes, we’re going to take you back to the man,” said Johnny. “He doesn’t know you’re lost, I guess.”

Well, the bear growled a little bit, but that was only his way of saying “Thank you!” And then he stood still while Johnny took hold of the chain around his neck--I mean the chain around the bear’s neck, not Johnny’s, for Johnny didn’t have any chain on his neck. And Tommy also took hold of the bear’s chain, and so did Mary, just the littlest, tiny tip end, you know.

“Now we’re all ready,” said Johnny. “Come along, little bear, and we’ll soon have you back to your master.”