“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.