ADVENTURE NUMBER TWOTHE TRIPPERTROTS GO SAILING
Thenewsboy 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 splashedinto 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 Iamhungry.”
“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 thestreet. “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 boxaround, 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.