Three little Trippertrots

“We don’t seem to be getting anywhere very fast,” said Tommy Trippertrot, after he and his sister and his brother and the little tame dancing bear had walked up and down several streets.

“No, indeed,” agreed Mary.

“Are you sure we’re lost again?” asked Johnny.

“I certainly am,” replied his sister. “We must have come farther than we thought we did. All the streets are strange, and all the houses, too, and I don’t see a single person that I know. Oh, dear! Isn’t it too bad?”

“Never mind!” exclaimed Johnny, putting his arms around Mary to hug her. “I’ll take care of you.”

“And so will I,” added Tommy.

“Wuff! Wuff!” growled the bear in his gentle voice, and that was his way of saying that he, too, would take care of Mary. And he put one fuzzy paw around her neck, and squeezed her the least bit; not enough to hurt her, you understand. Oh, of course not.

“Well, what had we better do?” asked Johnny.

“We’ll ask the first person we meet if they know where we live,” said Mary. “It’s funny, but we never can seem to remember. I guess we ought to have a stamp and an address on us, just as letters do, and then the postman could always take us home.”

“I think that would be a good idea,” said Tommy. “But it’s too late to do that now, and I don’t see any people we can ask,” and he looked up and down the street, but no one was in sight.

“Oh, I tell you what let’s do!” exclaimed Johnny. “We’ll let the bear go wherever he wants to, and maybe he’ll take us home, the way Fido and Ivy once did.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Tommy. “We’ll do it.”

So they let go of the chain that was around the bear’s neck, and Mary said to him:

“Now go ahead, little bear, and take us home.”

“Oh, bears can’t understand our talk,” said Tommy.

“Why, Fido understands me!” said Mary. “When I speak pleasantly to him he wags his tail, so I’m sure he understands; and if he can, why can’t bears?”

“Oh, well, maybe he does,” admitted Johnny. “Let’s see what he’ll do.”

The little bear didn’t do anything at first. He just stood there on his hind legs, looking all around, and sort of sniffing the air. I guess he was trying to see if he could smell his supper cooking anywhere. Then, all at once, he started to run across the street.

“Come on!” cried Johnny. “I guess that’s the way home! We’ll follow the bear!”

So they ran after the shaggy little creature, who kept right on going, looking over his shoulder every now and then, just as if he was telling the children to follow him. And they did. But where in the world do you suppose he led them?

You’d never guess, I’m afraid, so I’m going to tell you. It was right up to a bakery shop window, that was filled with all sorts of nice cakes and cookies and pies. Yes, just as true as I’m telling you, that’s what the bear did. He came to a stop right in front of the window, and then he looked up at the children, and sort of whined, just as Fido, their dog, did when he was hungry.

“Oh, I know what he wants!” cried Mary.

“What is it?” asked both her brothers at once.

“He wants some cakes,” said Mary. “He is hungry, poor little fellow. That’s why he led us over to this bakery. I’m going to see if the bakery man will give us some cakes or buns for our little bear.”

“I wish he’d give us some for ourselves,” spoke Johnny. “I’m hungry myself.”

“So am I!” exclaimed Tommy.

“Well, let’s go in,” suggested Mary.

“Oh, not all at once,” objected Johnny. “For if we did, and left the bear all alone outside here, he might run away. I’ll stay here with him, Tommy, and you and Mary can go in and ask the bakery man for some cake.”

“All right,” agreed Tommy, and into the bakery shop he and his sister went, leaving Johnny to take care of the baby bear.

“Well, little ones, what can I do for you to-day?” asked the baker-man of Mary and Tommy, as he came out of the back room, wiping some flour off the end of his nose. “Will you have bread or pie?”

“Neither, if you please, sir,” answered Mary, “but we have a little bear, and——”

“Good gracious sakes alive and some ground cinnamon!” cried the baker-man. “You don’t mean to tell me you have a real live bear in here? Take him out at once, I beg of you!”

“Oh, no, he isn’t in here,” said Tommy. “He’s outside, with my brother Johnny. But anyhow, he’s tame and gentle, and he wouldn’t hurt a fly, not if one were to light on his nose and tickle him. He’d just blow him off.”

“Oh, he is a very kind bear,” went on Mary.

“I am very glad to hear that,” spoke the baker-man. “But what do you want me to do—buy him?”

“Oh, no,” answered Tommy. “You see, he is lost, and we are lost, and he came over here to look at your cakes because he was hungry, and we are hungry, too. But you needn’t mind us, unless you have some cakes you don’t want, and——”

But then Tommy had to stop to catch his breath, which had nearly gotten away from him, and Mary said:

“Oh, you had better let me finish. What we want, Mr. Baker-man, is some cake for our little bear. At least he isn’t really ours, but he belongs to the man who plays tunes on the funny little horn, and he is lost.”

“Who is lost, the man or the bear?” asked the baker, with a jolly laugh.

“Both, I guess,” said Tommy, who had his breath by this time. “But have you any cakes?”

“Oh, yes, plenty of them,” said the kind baker. “I will give you some, and the bear some, and——”

“But we have no money,” said Mary quickly, “and we are lost—we’re always getting lost,” she said.

“No matter about the money,” went on the baker. “I will give you as many cakes as the bear needs, and some for yourself. Bring in the bear.”

So Johnny brought in the bear, and the baker cried out as soon as he saw the shaggy little fellow:

“Why, I know that bear! He belongs to a nice Italian in the next street. You had better leave him with me, and I will see that he gets home safely. But first he must have some cakes. Come here, Bruno!” called the baker to the bear, and the little tame bear came right over to him, and ate a chocolate cake out of his hand.

“You see, he knows me,” said the baker. “I will see that he gets safely home.”

“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Mary. “I wish that some one knew us, and would see that we got home. It’s dreadful to be lost all the while, but we can’t seem to help it.”

“Never mind,” said the baker kindly. “Here, eat some cakes, and then we will see what is to be done. Perhaps I can think of a way to get you home.”

Well, you would never believe it if I didn’t tell you, I suppose, but this is just how it happened. All of a sudden into the baker shop walked a man, and he had a string in his hand.

“What are you leading by that string? Another bear?” asked the baker-man.

“No. I am leading my pink cow,” said the man.

“A pink cow!” exclaimed the baker. “I never heard of a pink cow!”

“Well, I have one,” said the man. “You can look for yourself, if you don’t believe me.”

So they all looked out on the sidewalk—that is, all but the little bear, and he was too busy eating cakes to look—and there, sure enough, was a nice pink cow, and the man was leading her by a yellow string around her neck.

“How did she get pink?” asked the baker-man.

“She went to the circus once,” said the other man, “and she drank a pailful of pink lemonade, in mistake for water, so she has been pink ever since. But it doesn’t hurt her any, and she gives as good milk as ever.”

“What are you going to do with her?” asked the baker-man.

“Why, I am going to sell her to a man named Mr. Jones,” said the cowman. “He lives a few streets away, and he has always wanted a pink cow. So I am taking mine to him.”

“Oh! I wonder if that’s the Mr. Jones who lives two doors from us?” cried Mary.

“What might your names be?” asked the pink-cow man quickly.

“The Trippertrots!” cried Tommy and Johnny and Mary, all at the same time.

“Then that’s the Mr. Jones, all right,” said the pink-cow man. “He said he lived next door to a family of Trippertrot children, who were always getting lost——”

“And we’re lost now!” interrupted Mary.

“But you can take us home!” cried Johnny.

“To be sure I can,” answered the man. “I’ll take you home on my way to leave my pink cow at Mr. Jones’s house. Come along, children.”

So they said good-by to the little bear, who was still eating buns, and then to the baker, who gave the Trippertrots some cakes to take home; and then the children started out with the man and the pink cow to go home to their house.

“Oh, how thankful I am that we’re not lost any more!” exclaimed Mary, as they walked along, with the pink cow following behind, and switching her tail to keep the flies away.

“Yes; and wasn’t it lucky that the baker-man knew what to do with the bear?” said Johnny.

“It certainly was,” spoke Tommy.

“You will soon be home now,” said the pink-cow man, and they kept on up the street, and in a little while they were safely at the Trippertrot house.

Just as the three children got in front of their house they saw their papa and mamma, and Suzette, the nursemaid, looking at them out of the parlor windows.

“Oh, there are our dear children!” cried Mrs. Trippertrot.

“I wonder where they have been this time?” asked Mr. Trippertrot.

“There is no telling,” replied his wife. “They do seem to go to the strangest places. And look what they have with them! A pink cow, of all things!”

“Oh, I hope they are not going to bring that pink cow in here!” exclaimed Suzette, the nursemaid. “There is no place to put it!”

“Oh, dear! I wonder what those children will do next?” asked Mrs. Trippertrot. But there was no one there to answer her, for Mr. Trippertrot ran out to get Mary and Tommy and Johnny, and Suzette ran out to help him, and so Mrs. Trippertrot thought she would run out herself.

“Oh, mamma!” cried Mary. “We had the grandest time!”

“And we took the little bear home,” said Johnny.

“And the baker-man gave us some cakes, but we ate them all up,” spoke Tommy.

“Oh, you children!” cried their mamma.

“And what about the pink cow?” asked Mr. Trippertrot. “I do hope you haven’t brought that home with you!”

“Oh, no,” said the man who owned the cow. “I am taking my cow to Mr. Jones, who lives two doors from you. He wants her, and as I was coming this way, I brought your children with me.”

“That was very kind of you,” said Mr. Trippertrot, “and I hope they don’t trip and trot off again. Come in, now, children, and tell your mother and me all about where you were this time.”

“And we can tell you why the cow is pink,” said Tommy. “She ate some pink ice cream once—strawberry, I guess it was——”

“No, she drank pink lemonade,” corrected Mary.

“Oh, yes, that’s it,” agreed Tommy, “and so she’s been pink ever since.”

So the three little Trippertrots went into their house, and the man took the pink cow to where Mr. Jones lived, and everybody was happy for a while, just as you all are, I hope.