Part 3

“Because that turkey gobbler went in there. I heard Suzette, our nursemaid, say this morning that we were going to have turkey for Thanksgiving. To-day is Thanksgiving, and there goes the turkey into a house with a red roof, and our house has a red roof, so that’s our home. Oh, how glad I am! Come on, we must wiggle ourselves until we get right over the top of it, and then we can call out, and papa and mamma will come out with the step-ladder, and get us.”

So the children walked along through the air, holding to the strings of their toy, green balloons, until they were right over their house. Then they all cried out together, as loudly as they could:

“Papa! Mammal Here we are! Up in the air! Come and get us!”

A minute later Mr. and Mrs. Trippertrot ran out on the balcony over the front porch and looked up. There they saw their children.

“Oh, my darlings!” cried their mamma, waving her hand to them. “I thought I should never see you again! However did you get up there?”

“We got lost this morning, chasing after the fairy mouse,” said Mary, “and the balloon man sold Jiggily Jig, the funny boy, these balloons, and they took us up, and the turkey showed us which was our house, so we’re home again.”

“I’m glad of it!” said their papa. “But why don’t you come down?”

“We can’t, the balloons hold us up,” said Johnny, and he and Tommy tried to pull themselves down, but they couldn’t, because the balloons were so strong.

“You must get a ladder and reach it up to us, and then we can let go of the balloons, and walk down,” said Mary.

So Mr. Trippertrot was hurrying away to get the ladder when Suzette, the maid, said:

“Oh, I know a better way than that. If Miss Mary has a pin she can just make a little pin-hole in her balloon and also in Master Johnny’s and Tommy’s, and let out a little of the gas from the green balloons, and then the children will float safely down.”

“That is a good way,” said Mr. Trippertrot, so he called to Mary to do that. Very carefully she made little holes in the three balloons, and, in another minute, the Trippertrot children were safely down on the balcony over the front porch of their house, and their papa and mamma were hugging and kissing them.

“And you must never go away again,” said their mamma.

“We won’t,” said Mary.

“Is the Thanksgiving dinner ready?” asked Tommy.

“For we are very hungry,” spoke Johnny.

“It is nearly ready,” said Suzette.

And then, pretty soon, the Trippertrot family sat down to a fine Thanksgiving dinner. There was turkey and cranberry sauce, and oysters, and celery, and nuts, and cake, and oranges, and figs, and cookies, and oh! ever so many things. I can’t remember half of them.

But the Trippertrots were careful not to eat too much, as that isn’t proper, and, besides, it makes you ill. So they ate just enough, and they had a fine time afterward playing many kinds of games.

And then--oh, well, I guess you had better look at the next story, to see what happened afterward.

ADVENTURE NUMBER FIVE

THE TRIPPERTROTS IN A GROCERY WAGON

“Well, what game shall we play now?” asked Mary Trippertrot, of her brothers Johnny and Tommy, when they had finished playing the one called “Please Don’t Step on My Toes.” It was a game Mary made up herself, and was very nice.

“Oh, I don’t know,” answered Tommy. “Suppose we play ‘Hide the Knitting Needle’?”

“That’s no fun!” exclaimed Johnny. “Besides, some of us might get stuck by the needle.”

“That’s so,” agreed Mary. “But what can we do?”

“Oh, I know!” cried Tommy. “We’ll play that nice old game of looking out of the window and choosing things. We’ll let Mary have first choice, and maybe she can get an automobile.”

“Oh, goodie!” exclaimed the little Trippertrot girl. “Then we can go for a ride in it.”

“Oh, but mamma said we weren’t to go out of the house, unless something special, extra-extraordinary happened,” spoke Tommy, “so we couldn’t go out in your auto, Mary, even if you are lucky enough to get one.”

“But I only meant to take a _make-believe_ ride in a _make-believe_ auto,” explained the little girl. “Wouldn’t that be all right?”

“I guess it would,” said Johnny. “Anyhow, let’s go to the window, look out, and see what things we can choose.”

So that is how the three little Trippertrots happened to be looking out of the window. And, as truly as I’m telling you, the first thing that came along was a great big red automobile, with large, fat wheels, like sausages, and Mary cried:

“Oh, that’s mine! That’s mine!”

“Yes,” said Tommy, “and now let’s go for a make-believe ride in it.”

“Oh, but first let’s you and I choose something,” said Johnny to his brother.

“There comes a horse and carriage,” said Tommy. “I’m going to choose that for mine.”

“But you can’t take that in my auto,” said Mary. “It’s far too big.”

“So it is,” agreed Tommy. “Wait a minute, there comes a messenger boy with a box of candy. I’ll choose that.”

“Which, the boy or the candy?” asked Johnny.

“The candy, of course!” exclaimed Tommy, with a laugh. “There might not be room in the auto for the boy.”

“Well, you’d better be quick about what you’re going to choose, Johnny!” called Mary, “for my red auto is moving along pretty fast, and it may be out of our block before we get our ride in it. Hurry up, Johnny.”

“Well, I’ll choose that fruit-stand across the street,” spoke Johnny.

“That’s nice,” said Mary. “We shan’t be hungry on our trip, anyhow, with Tommy’s box of candy, and Johnny’s fruit-stand. Come on, now, get in my auto.”

So the boys made-believe help their sister into the make-believe auto, and they closed the doors and turned on the gasolene, and away they went as fast as anything, if you will kindly believe me. Only, of course, it was only make-believe, pretend riding, you know.

They went to New York, and a place called Osh-Kosh, and to Mumbly-Bumbly and to Kalamazoo and even part way to the moon, but, of course, all this while they were really only in the front room of their house, peeping out of the window.

And then, all of a sudden, Mary looked, and she saw a grocery wagon on the street, out in front, and the horse hitched to the wagon was walking slowly along, and there was no one driving him.

“Look at that!” cried Mary. “That horse is running away.”

“I guess you mean he’s _walking_ away,” said Johnny. “He isn’t running.”

“Well, he’s going away, anyhow,” insisted Mary, “and the driver isn’t there and the horse may bunk the wagon into something, and smash it, and then the grocery man would lose a lot of money.”

“Well, what can we do about it?” asked Tommy.

“We might go out, and stop the horse from going away,” continued Mary, “and then we could telephone to the man who owns it, to come and get it from in front of our house.”

Johnny looked all around the room. So did Tommy. Their papa and mamma weren’t there. Neither was the nursemaid.

“Do you think going out to stop the horse would be a special, extra-extraordinary occasion?” asked Tommy, of Mary.

“Oh, yes,” she said, “I do. And I think if mamma was here she’d want us to go out of the house to catch the walk-away grocery wagon and horse.”

“Then we’ll do it,” decided Tommy. “Come on, Mary and Johnny!”

So out of the house the three little Trippertrots went after the grocery wagon, and they never stopped to think that they might get lost again. They wanted to do a kind act, you see, and I think it was very nice of them; don’t you?

They ran after the walk-away horse, that was now some distance down the street, and soon the Trippertrots had caught up to him.

“Whoa, horsie!” called Tommy.

“Yes, you must stop,” added Johnny, most politely.

“Because it’s wrong to run away, or even walk away,” said Mary. “We came to catch you, so your master can find you. Otherwise, you might get lost, you know.”

“Horses can’t get lost!” declared Tommy.

“They might, when they were little girl or boy horses,” said Mary. “I should think a little horse could get lost, the same as we do, lots of times. Whoa there, horsie!” she called, for the grocery horse was still walking away.

“Well, perhaps ponies can get lost,” admitted Tommy, and just then the grocery horse stood still, because the three Trippertrot children had run out right in front of him. I think it was very brave of them; don’t you?

The horse looked at the children, and the Trippertrots looked at the horse, and then Mary said:

“Now we ought to tie him to a post, so he can’t get away any farther, and then go telephone to the man. Otherwise, we might get lost ourselves.”

“But we don’t know who owns the horse,” said Tommy.

“Yes, there is his name on the side of the wagon,” said Johnny, and, surely enough, there was the grocery man’s name in big letters.

“What name do you think it is?” asked Mary, of her brothers.

“Oh, how funny of us!” exclaimed Tommy. “None of us can read, because we’re only in the kindergarten class, so we can’t tell what the name is on the wagon.”

“I can read!” cried Johnny. “I can read words like ‘cat’ and ‘dog.’”

“But I don’t think the grocery man’s name is either cat or dog,” spoke Mary.

“Then what are we going to do?” asked Johnny.

“We can tie the horse to a post,” said Mary, “and then we can go home and tell papa about it, and he can come and read the name for us.”

“That’s a good idea,” declared Tommy. “But what shall we use to tie the horse to a post? Have you a piece of string in your pocket, Johnny?”

“Yes,” answered his brother, “I have.”

“Oh, you silly boys!” exclaimed Mary. “They don’t tie horses with string. They use a leather strap. There must be one in the wagon. You boys climb in and look.”

So Tommy and Johnny climbed up on the wagon step, and crawled back over the seat, for the horse was kind and gentle, and stood very still, looking up at the sky now and then, to see if it would rain, I guess.

“I can’t find any strap!” called Johnny, after a while.

“Nor I,” added Tommy. “There are a lot of groceries in the wagon, but no strap.”

“Oh, I suppose I’ll have to look myself,” said Mary. So she climbed up into the wagon where her brothers were. She looked in among the boxes and baskets, and she had just found the strap, which was in among some oranges, when, all at once, a queer thing happened. The horse suddenly started to walk away again, pulling the wagon after him, and the Trippertrot children were in the wagon. So, of course, the horse pulled them, too.

“Oh!” cried Mary. “We’re having a ride!”

“That’s fine!” exclaimed Johnny.

“Oh, but we mustn’t!” shouted Tommy. “The horse is taking us away from home, and mamma told us not to go! We must stop him!”

“That’s so,” admitted his brother.

“Whoa there! Whoa! Whoa!” called Mary to the horse. But the horse wouldn’t stop, and kept on going, taking the Trippertrot children farther and farther down the street.

“Oh, what shall we do?” asked Mary, of her brothers. “We will be lost again.”

“I guess we will,” spoke Johnny, but he didn’t seem to mind it very much.

“Can’t you pull on the lines and make the horse stop?” asked Tommy.

“The lines are too far out,” answered Johnny. “I might fall if I reached for them.”

“Then call to some one--a policeman or anybody--and ask him to please stop the horse,” suggested Mary. “Oh, boys! this time it isn’t our fault that we’re running away; is it?”

“No, indeed,” answered Tommy. “But the horse isn’t running, he is only walking. Maybe he’ll stop soon.”

“He’s running now,” suddenly exclaimed Johnny, and, surely enough, the horse began to go faster and faster, giving the Trippertrots a nice ride, but still taking them farther and farther away from home.

“Oh, we’re lost again!” cried Mary, as she and her brothers sat down in the back of the wagon, in among the boxes and baskets of groceries. “I wonder where we will end up?”

But none of the children seemed to know, so they just sat there in the wagon.

ADVENTURE NUMBER SIX

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE POOR FAMILY

“Where do you suppose this horse is going?” asked Mary, of her brothers, after a while.

“Home, I guess,” said Tommy.

“Do you mean to his home, or our home?” asked Johnny. “Because, if he goes to our home, it’s all right, but if the horse goes to his own home, why--why----”

“We’ll be lost again, that’s all,” said Tommy, simply.

“Oh, we’re lost now,” cried Mary, as she looked out of the front of the wagon. “We’re on a strange street, that I never saw before, and I don’t know how far from home.”

“Well, we’ll get back some time,” said Johnny, “so we don’t need to worry about it. We always do get home, somehow or other, and perhaps we’ll have another funny adventure, like being carried up into the air by the balloons.”

“Oh, I wish we would!” exclaimed Tommy. “Anyhow, I’m hungry, and if an adventure is going to happen I wish it would be one with something to eat in it.”

“What! You don’t mean to say you are hungry so soon after our big Thanksgiving-turkey-dinner, do you?” asked Mary Trippertrot.

“Yes, I--I guess I am,” said Tommy.

“And so am I!” exclaimed Johnny. “But I know where I can get something to eat.”

“Where? Oh, tell me where!” cried Tommy, eagerly.

“Right in this wagon,” said Johnny. “It’s full of groceries, and we can eat some of them. There are oranges, and I saw some nuts, and some candy, and some crackers, and cheese and--and--oh, there is plenty to eat.”

“But it isn’t ours,” objected Mary, quickly, “and we mustn’t take what isn’t ours.”

“No, that’s so,” said Johnny, sadly.

“Oh, I know how we can fix it,” spoke Tommy. “We can take what we want--not too much, of course--and we can keep account of it, and when we find the man who owns the grocery wagon we can ask papa to pay him for what we took. I’m sure he will.”

“Yes, I guess he will,” agreed Johnny.

“Besides,” added Mary, “the grocery man might give us some pennies for stopping his horse from running away, and we could pay him back with those.”

“Yes, only but we’re _not_ stopping his horse from running away,” said Tommy, “for he _is_ running as fast as he can.”

And the horse was, but he was on a smooth asphalt street, and the wagon went so easily that the children didn’t notice how very fast they were going.

“I wonder if he wouldn’t stop if I asked him please to?” spoke Mary, as she leaned over the seat.

“You might try,” suggested Johnny.

So Mary did.

“Oh, please, nice horsie, won’t you kindly stop running away with us?” she asked, in her gentle voice. “We don’t want to get so far away from home, and it will soon be dark. Please stop.”

But the horse only wiggled his ears backwards and forwards, switched his tail to and fro, and kept on going.

“It’s no use!” exclaimed Tommy. “He won’t stop, and I’m going to eat.”

“So am I!” added Johnny.

“Then I suppose I may as well, also,” said Mary. “But we must remember all that we take, so papa can pay the grocery man, or we can pay him, if he gives us any pennies.”

So the children each took an orange, out of a basket that had a great many in it, and they took some nuts, and a little candy, and some grapes, and then Mary opened a big package and she cried out:

“Oh, boys! Look here!”

“What is it?” asked Johnny. “Is Jiggily Jig there?”

“No, but see! It’s a fine big turkey, all ready to put in the oven,” said Mary.

“And look at the stalks of celery!” shouted Johnny, as he opened another package.

“And see the bunches of white grapes!” exclaimed Tommy.

“Boys,” said Mary, solemnly, “I see what this is.”

“What is it?” asked Johnny.

“It is Somebody’s Thanksgiving dinner,” said Mary. “That is just what it is. And, oh, I wonder whose it is? The horse is running away with us, and with the dinner, and I suppose some one is hungry for it.”

“Well, I’m not hungry--not now,” remarked Johnny, as he ate another orange.

“Nor I,” added Tommy, as he cracked some more nuts. “But I was a while ago.”

“I’m not hungry, either,” said Mary; “but, boys, I just wish we could find the family that needed this dinner.”

“Let’s look out along the street, and maybe we’ll see some one who is hungry,” suggested Tommy. So they looked out, but they didn’t see any one, not even a policeman. For it was still Thanksgiving Day, you remember, and I suppose all the people were still in their houses, perhaps sleeping after their dinners, or maybe they were at the football game, or the theatre. Anyhow, there wasn’t a soul to be seen.

“We can’t ask any one,” said Mary, with a sigh. “There’s no one to ask.”

“Well, perhaps the horse knows where the dinner belongs, and he’ll go there,” spoke Johnny. “He looked to me like a very smart horse.”

“And, maybe after he takes the dinner where it belongs, he’ll take us back home,” went on Tommy.

“Oh, that would be lovely if he would,” exclaimed Mary.

So the children sat in the back of the grocery wagon, with the boxes and baskets, and the horse kept going faster and faster on the asphalt street, and the Trippertrots didn’t know where they would get to finally, when, all at once, the horse turned off the asphalt, and began pulling the wagon over the cobblestones.

Rattlety-bang! Rattlety-bang! it went, and the children were all shaken up, and then, all at once, the horse stopped.

“Well, we’re somewhere!” exclaimed Mary. “I’m glad of it.”

“Yes, but I wonder where we are?” spoke Tommy.

“Can it be our house?” asked Johnny.

“No, there are no cobblestones in front of our house,” replied Mary, quickly.

Johnny looked out of the front of the wagon. He saw a little house, not very nice looking, for it was rather ragged, as if it needed a new suit of clothes, and the chimney was almost falling off the roof, and the fence in front was full of holes, and, altogether, it was a very pretty sort of a house indeed.

“What is there?” asked Mary, of her brother.

“This is the place where the Thanksgiving dinner belongs, I guess,” said Johnny. “The horse stopped here of his own accord, so it must be the place.”

“Then, as long as the grocery boy isn’t here, we had better carry the things in,” suggested Tommy. “We can make-believe we are the grocery boys.”

“I can’t be a boy,” said Mary.

“No, you’ll have to be a grocery girl,” spoke Tommy. “But that will be all right. I’ll take the turkey, ’cause I’m the strongest.”

“I wish Jiggily Jig, or Simple Simon, or the nice newsboy was here to help us,” spoke Johnny.

“Oh, we can do it all right,” said his brother. And then, while the kind horse stood very still, the three Trippertrots took the Thanksgiving things out of the wagon, and marched up to the shabby-looking house with them. Tommy put the big turkey down on the step, and knocked at the door.

A poor-looking woman opened it, and behind her the Trippertrots could see a whole lot of hungry-looking children. Oh! how very hungry they were!

“Well, what is it, please?” asked the woman, as she looked at Tommy and Johnny and Mary Trippertrot.

“If--if you please,” spoke Tommy, as he lifted up the big turkey to her, “here is your Thanksgiving dinner.”

“My Thanksgiving dinner!” exclaimed the woman, and a few teardrops came into her eyes, while Mary could hear the hungry children, who were standing behind her, sort of gasping, and making their tongues go around inside their mouths. “My Thanksgiving dinner!” said the woman again. “Bless your dear little heart, I’m not going to have any Thanksgiving dinner. We--we’re too poor!” she said. “There must be some mistake. You are at the wrong house. Thanksgiving dinner! Why--why, I haven’t had a real Thanksgiving dinner since I was a little girl,” and she turned around to look at her poor little children standing behind her.

“Well, you’re going to have one now,” said Mary Trippertrot. “This is yours.”

“No, no!” exclaimed the woman. “You are at the wrong house.”

“It _can’t_ be the wrong house!” cried Johnny. “The grocery horse stopped here himself, and I guess he knows where the dinner belongs. Let’s take it in, Tommy and Mary.”

So into the house went the Trippertrots, carrying the Thanksgiving dinner. Oh, what a dinner it was! There were oranges, and apples, and nuts, and candy, and white grapes, and bread, and butter, and potatoes, and the big turkey, of course; and celery, and cranberries, and some cookies and cakes, and, oh! I couldn’t tell you what else there was! The table was piled quite full.

“Are you sure it’s for us?” asked the poor woman. “I don’t think we ought to keep it.”

“Oh--oh, mamma!” cried one of the poor little girls--and there were about four boys and seven girls in that poor family--“oh, mamma--don’t--don’t--_please_ don’t send it away. We are _so_ hungry.”

“Humph!” exclaimed Johnny, as he looked out of the window, “you can’t send it away if you wanted to--not now.”

“Why not?” asked the woman.

“Because the grocery horse has run away again,” answered Johnny. “I guess he knew what he was doing when he left the dinner here, and now he’s gone back home. So you can’t send the dinner away. You’ve got to keep it.”

“Oh, bless your dear hearts, we will,” said the woman, and, oh! how happy those children were--the poor ones I mean. But, of course, the Trippertrots were happy, too, because they had done a kindness.

Then the poor woman began to cook the Thanksgiving dinner, and she put the turkey in the oven to roast nice and brown, and the Trippertrots were helping her when, all of a sudden, there came a loud knock on the door of the house where the poor family lived.

“Ha! I wonder who that can be?” asked the poor woman.

“I guess it’s our papa come for us,” said Johnny.

“Who are you, and where do you live?” asked the poor woman.

“We are the Trippertrots, but we don’t know where we live, if you please,” said Mary.

“Because we are lost--we are always getting lost,” added Tommy. “But perhaps some one has come for us.”

So the poor woman went to the door, and there stood a boy with a white apron on.

“Ah, I’ve found you at last!” he said, when he saw the Trippertrots. “I’m the grocery boy and I’ve been looking all over for you and the wagon.”

“We’re here, but the horse and wagon are gone,” replied Mary.

“Well, never mind,” said the grocery boy, as he waved his white apron. “Come with me, if you please.”

ADVENTURE NUMBER SEVEN

THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE GROCERY BOY

“Well, aren’t you coming with me?” asked the grocery boy, as Tommy stood staring at him. As for Mary, she was looking in the oven, to see if the turkey was cooking, and it was turning the loveliest brown color you could imagine. And Johnny Trippertrot was playing spin tops with one of the boys of the poor family. So, you see, Tommy was the only one the grocery boy could look at, or talk to.

“Aren’t you children coming with me?” asked the grocery boy again, after a bit.

“Where do you want us to go?” inquired Tommy.

“Why, anywhere you’d like to go,” replied the grocery boy.

“Oh, then can you take us home?” begged Mary, eagerly, as she opened the oven door, and shut it again, and then the whole kitchen of the poor family was filled with the nicest cooking-smell--just like Christmas and Thanksgiving rolled into one, you know.

“Well, I guess I can take you home,” said the grocery boy. “But how did you get so far away, and are you lost, as usual?”

“Yes, we are lost, the same as we always are,” replied Johnny, as he gave the top to the poor boy to spin. “But we wouldn’t have been in this trouble only the horse first walked away with us and then he ran.”

“What horse?” asked the grocery boy.

“The horse that drew us here, with the Thanksgiving dinner,” said Johnny.

“It must have been your horse,” put in Mary. “You said you had been looking for one, and I think this was yours. And I hope we delivered the Thanksgiving dinner to the right place.”

“Oh, s’posin’ we haven’t!” gasped Johnny. “We’ll have to ask papa to pay for it for us.”