“I think you won’t really need them,” his father said. “Once we get out on the ocean there will be so much to see that you will have enough to do without playing with the toys you use here at home. Leave everything here, I say. If you want toys we can get them in Florida, and perhaps such different ones that you will like them even better than your old ones.”
“Could I take my little rubber doll?” asked Flossie.
“Yes, I think you might do that,” her father said, with a smile at the little girl. “You can squeeze your rubber doll up smaller, if she takes up too much room.”
So it was arranged that way. At first Freddie felt sad about leaving his toy fire engine at home, but his father told him perhaps he might catch a fish at sea, and then Freddie began saving all the string he could find out of which to make a fish line.
Finally the last trunk and valise had been packed. The railroad and steamship tickets had been bought, Sam and Dinah got ready to go and stay with friends, Snap and Snoop were sent away—not without a rather tearful parting on the part of Flossie and Freddie—and then the Bobbsey family was ready to start for Florida.
They were to go to New York by train, and as nothing much happened during that part of the journey I will skip over it. I might say, though, that Freddie took from his pocket a ball of string, which he was going to use for his fishing, and the string fell into the aisle of the car.
Then the conductor came along and his feet got tangled in the cord, dragging the ball boundingly after him halfway down the coach.
“Hello! What’s this?” the conductor cried, in surprise.
“Oh, that’s my fish line!” answered Freddie.
“Well, you’ve caught something before you reached the sea,” said the ticket-taker as he untangled the string from his feet, and all the other passengers laughed.