The Bobbsey Twins in a Great City by Laura Lee Hope

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"Then we'll have some," said Freddie. "How many rides can you get for ten
cents?"

"A lot, I guess," said Flossie, who forgot all about the number-work she
had studied for a little while in school.

"Hey!" called Freddie to the boy with the goat. "We've got two cents--we
want a ride."

The boy, who was sitting in an old goat wagon, pulled on the reins and
guided his animal over toward the curb.

"Does you really want a ride?" he asked, "No foolin'?"

"No foolin'," answered Freddie. "Sure we want a ride. I've got five
cents." He showed only half of the money he had in his pocket, keeping the
other nickel back.

"I'll give you an' your sister a ride for dat!" cried the goat boy, not
speaking the way Freddie and Flossie had been taught to do. "Hop in!"

"Can I drive?" asked Freddie.

"Nope. I'm afraid to let youse," was the answer. "Billy's a good goat, but
you see he don't just know you. Course I could introduce youse to him, an'
then he'd know you. But first along you'd better not drive him. I'll steer
him were you want to go. I gives a ride up an' down de block fer two
cents," he went on. "Course two of you is four cents."

"I've got a nickel," said Freddie quickly.

"Sure, dat's right. I forgot. Well, I'll give you both a ride up and down
de block and half way back again for de nickel."

"Here it is," said Freddie, handing it over, as he and Flossie took their
seats in the goat wagon. There was plenty of room for them and the
red-haired driver. Other children on the block crowded to the curbstone
and looked on with eager eyes as the Bobbsey twins started on their ride.
Mrs. Bobbsey, talking with her friend in the darkened parlor, knew nothing
of what was going on.

"Say, he is a good goat," said Freddie, when they were half-way down the
block.

"Sure he's a good goat!" agreed the boy, whose name was Mike. "There ain't
none better."

"It's lots of fun," said Flossie.

It was a fine day, even if it was Winter. The sun was shining brightly, so
it was not cold. What snow there was in New York, before the Bobbseys came
on their visit, had either melted or been cleaned off the streets so one
would hardly know there had been a storm.

"I wish we had a goat," said Freddie, when the ride was almost over.

[Illustration: "I WISH WE HAD A GOAT," SAID FREDDY.

_The Bobbsey Twins in a Great City. Page_ 216]

"So do I," agreed Flossie. "Let's ask Daddy to buy one," she suggested.

"We will," said Freddie.

"I'm goin' to sell dis goat," put in Mike.

"You are? Why?" cried the Bobbsey twins.

"'Cause I'm going to work. You see I won't have time to look after him. I
bought him off a feller what moved away, an' I keeps de goat in Sullivan's
livery stable. But I have to pay a dollar a month, an' so I began givin'
de boys an' girls around here rides for two cents to pay for Billy's keep.
But I can't do dat when I goes to work, so me mudder says I must sell 'im.
I don't want to, but I has to."

Flossie looked at Freddie and Freddie looked at Flossie on hearing this.
Neither of them said a word, but any one who knew them could easily have
told that they were thinking of the same thing--the goat.

"Well, I'll ride you back to where youse got in me wagon," said Mike, "and
then your nickel's about used up."

"Oh, I've got another!" cried Freddie eagerly. "We want more ride. Don't
we, Flossie?"

"Sure we do! Oh, it's such fun!"

So they rode up and down the block again, and when that was over Flossie
and Freddie spent some time talking to Mike.

By this time Mrs. Bobbsey had ended her visit and had come out to look for
her children.

"I thought I told you not to go off the steps," she said. They were down
the street looking at the goat.

"Well, we didn't mean to," admitted Freddie. "But we did so much want a
goat ride."

"And we had ten cents' worth!" laughed Flossie.

Mrs. Bobbsey smiled. It was very hard to be cross with these small twins.
They never meant to do wrong, and, I suppose, taking a ride up and down
the block was not so very bad.

"Good-bye!" called Freddie to Mike, the goat boy, as Mrs. Bobbsey led her
children away.

"Good-bye!" added Flossie, waving her hand.

"Good-bye," echoed Mike.

"And don't forget!" said Freddie.

"No, I won't."

Mrs. Bobbsey might have asked what it was Mike was not to forget, only she
was in a hurry to get back to the hotel, and so did not question Freddie.

When they reached their rooms they found a letter from Mr. Bobbsey, saying
he would have to stay in Lakeport a day longer than he expected. But he
would soon be in New York again, he wrote.

Bert and Nan came home from the moving pictures, saying they had had a
delightful time.

"So did we--in a goat wagon," cried Freddie.

"And Freddie and me are goin' to----" began Flossie, but Freddie quickly
cried:

"Come on and play fire engine, Flossie!" so his little sister did not
finish what she had started to say.

It was the next day, soon after breakfast, that one of the hotel
messengers--a small colored boy--knocked on the door of the suite of
apartments occupied by the Bobbsey family, and when Mrs. Bobbsey answered,
the colored boy said:

"He am downstairs, Ma'am. He am in de lobby."

"Who is?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

"De boy what wants to see yo' little boy, Ma'am."

"Some one to see Freddie? Who is it?"

"I don't know, Ma'am. He didn't gib no name."

"Oh, perhaps it is Laddie," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "Bert, please go down and
see, will you? If it's Laddie, who wants Freddie to play with him, I don't
see why he didn't come here. But go and see."

"Oh, I know who it is," said Freddie, "You don't need to go, Bert. Just
give me five dollars, Mother, and I'll buy him."

"Buy him? Buy what?" asked the surprised Mrs. Bobbsey. "What in the world
are you talking about, Freddie?"

"Mike, the goat boy. He's brought Billy here, I guess, and Flossie and I
are going to buy him. Can't we, please?"

"What? Buy a goat when we're stopping at this hotel?" cried his mother.
"Bert, do go and see what mischief those children have gotten into now. A
goat! Oh, dear!"

"I'll go with him, 'cause Mike don't know Bert," offered Freddie.

"And I want to come!" said Flossie. "I want to see our goat."

"Your goat!" cried Nan.

"Yes, we're going to buy him. Mike brought him to sell to us."

And that is what had happened. When Mrs. Bobbsey followed Bert and Freddie
down to the hotel lobby, leaving Nan to look after Flossie in the rooms,
this is what she saw:

Out at the side entrance to the hotel was the goat and the rickety express
wagon, in charge of a red-haired, snub-nosed boy, Mike's small brother.
Mike himself, rather ragged, but clean and neat enough, was in the lobby,
sitting at his ease on one of the big leather chairs, waiting.

"I've brought de goat," he said to Freddie, as soon as he saw that small
Bobbsey with Bert.

"What does it all mean?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey, while a crowd of the hotel
guests and help gathered about.

"Why, your little boy, Ma'am, what I rode in me goat wagon up and down our
block, said you'd buy Billy when I was ready to sell him. I'm ready now,
'cause I'm goin' to work. So I brought de goat an' wagon here to de hotel,
just as your little boy made me promise to do. It'll be five dollars for
de goat."

For a moment Mrs. Bobbsey did not know what to say. Then she turned to
Freddie and asked:

"Did you really tell him you'd buy his goat, Freddie?"

"I said you'd buy it for Flossie and me. Won't you? We can have such fun
with it!"

"A goat in a New York hotel!" cried Bert, laughing, "Oh, dear!"

"Hush, Bert," said his mother. "Freddie did not know any better. Of course
we can't keep it," she said to Mike, "and I'm sorry you had the trouble of
bringing him here. My little boy didn't stop to think, I'm afraid. He
should have told me. But here is a dollar for your trouble, and I think
you can easily sell your goat somewhere else."

"Oh, yes, I can easy sell him," said Mike. "But your little boy made me
promise to bring Billy to dis hotel to-day and here I am, 'cordin' to
promise."

"Yes, I see you kept your word," and Mrs. Bobbsey could not help smiling.
"But really we have no place to keep a goat here, and we could hardly take
it to Lakeport with us. So I'm afraid Freddie will have to do without it."

"All right," said Mike good-naturedly, as he took the dollar.

Of course Freddie and Flossie were disappointed at not having the goat and
wagon, but they soon forgot that when their mother promised to take them
to see another play that afternoon.

"It's a wonder Flossie or Freddie didn't try to bring the goat up to our
rooms in the elevator," said Bert, when they were in their apartment
again.

"Well, he was a good goat!" declared Freddie.

"And he could go fast," added Flossie.

"I was going to play fireman with him when we got back to Lakeport," went
on Freddie. "Now I can't."

"I think you'll have just as much fun some other way," said his mother,
laughing.

Three days after that, when Mrs. Bobbsey came in from shopping with the
two sets of twins, she heard some one moving about in their apartment as
she entered.

"Oh, it's Daddy!" cried Flossie, as some one caught her up in his arms.
"Daddy's come back!"

"I'm so glad!" called Freddie, running to get a hug and kiss from his
father. "And we almost had a goat!" he added.

CHAPTER XXI

UNCLE JACK'S REAL NAME

"Well! Well!" laughed Mr. Bobbsey, when he heard what Freddie said.
"That's great! Almost had a goat, did you? I must hear about that!"

"But first tell us about Uncle Jack," begged Nan. "Is he going to get
better?"

"Oh, I hope he is going to get better!" broke in Freddie. "It isn't a bit
nice to be sick. You have to stay in bed, and sometimes you have to have
your head all bound up, and sometimes you have to take the awfullest kind
of medicine ever was."

"You don't always have to stay in bed when you're sick," put in Flossie.
"And sometimes the medicine isn't bad a bit. It's sweet and nice."

"But tell us about Uncle Jack," begged Nan again. "He'll get better, won't
he?"

"That is something the doctors can't tell," answered her father. "I saw
him in the hospital."

"Was he glad to see you?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

"Well, to tell you the truth he didn't know me. He was very ill and was
out of his head with fever. I did what I could for him, and saw that he
would be well taken care of, and then went to Mr. Todd's house to stay all
night. I said I'd go back to the hospital in the morning, but Uncle Jack
was no better, and, after waiting two or three days, I decided to come
back here."

"Didn't he know you at all?" asked Nan.

"No, he was out of his head with fever all the while. Before I came, he
had told some of the doctors that he had something very important to tell
me--something that had to do with his friends or relations, they said. He
would tell no one else but me, but when I got to his bedside he could not
talk so that I could understand him. So really I don't know any more about
him than before. I don't even know what his real name is.

"Sometimes he used to call himself Jackson, and again it would be some
other name. I think he may not have known who he really was. But if he
does, it will be some time before he can tell me, or any one else. He was
still out of his head when I came away."

"Are you going back?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

"Not until they send for me, which will be when he takes a turn for the
better or worse. I want to do all I can for the poor old man, for he was
so good to Flossie and Freddie. But now tell me about the goat."

Freddie and Flossie took turns doing that, and a very funny story they
made of it, too. Mr. Bobbsey laughed, and laughed again. Then he had to
hear about everything else that had happened while he was in Lakeport.

"And now tell us what happened there--I mean besides about Uncle Jack,"
said Nan. "Did you see any of my friends?"

"And did you see Bessie Benton?" Flossie asked, naming a little girl with
whom she often played.

"Yes, I saw Bessie," said Mr. Bobbsey, "and she sent you her love."

"Did you see Tommy Todd?" Freddie queried.

"Yes; I stayed at his house."

"How is the ice-boat?" asked Bert.

"Well, there has been a thaw, as you know, and there isn't enough ice in
Lake Metoka on which to sail the _Bird_. I guess Tommy'll have to wait
until you get back there, Bert. We'll have more cold weather yet."

"Oh, are we going to leave New York?" asked Nan sorrowfully.

"We can't _live_ here," said her mother. "We've stayed longer now than I
thought we would. Have you much more business to look after?" she asked
her husband.

"It will take about two weeks more, and then I think we'll go back to
Lakeport. But you children can have plenty of good times in two weeks, I
should think."

"Of course we can!" cried Bert. "And when we get back home----"

"Are we going camping?" interrupted Freddie. "Flossie and I want to go
camping in the woods."

"On an island in a lake," added the little girl. "And we can take the
bugs that go around and around and around and--and----"

"And the bugs that go around and around will catch all the mosquitoes that
fly up and down, up and down, and bite us!" laughed Mrs. Bobbsey. "Yes, we
certainly shall have to take the 'go around' bugs to camp with us,
children."

"Do you really think we can go camping?" asked Bert of his father.

"Well, I don't know. We'll see."

The Bobbsey twins, both sets of them, did indeed have many more good times
in New York. I wish I had room to tell you about them, but I have not
space. They went to see many sights, paid another visit to Central Park
and Bronx Park and saw many nice plays and moving picture shows.

Mr. and Mrs. Whipple and Laddie often went with the Bobbseys on little
excursions about the great city. Laddie and the children became better
friends than before, and Mrs. Whipple said her little nephew had never had
such good times in all his life.

"He missed his mother greatly before your children came to this hotel,"
said Mrs. Whipple to Mrs. Bobbsey.

"When is Mrs. Dickerson coming back from California?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

"When it is warm here. She can not stand cold weather. But she did not go
out to California altogether on account of the climate."

"Didn't she?"

"No. You have heard my husband speak of a long-lost brother--also a
brother of Mrs. Dickerson's, who was a Whipple before her marriage."

"Yes, I heard something about that."

"Well, for a number of years my husband and Mrs. Dickerson have been
trying to find this lost brother. And there was a rumor that he had gone
to California when a boy and had grown up among the miners near San
Francisco. It was to find out, if possible, whether or not this was so,
that Mrs. Dickerson went out West. Though, to be sure, the Winters here
are hard for her to endure."

"Did she have any success in finding her brother?" asked Mr. Bobbsey.

"No," answered Mrs. Whipple, "she did not, I'm sorry to say. She and my
husband feel bad about it. But he may be found some day. He has been
missing many years."

It was two or three days after this talk that, one evening, Mr. and Mrs.
Whipple and Laddie were in the hotel rooms of the Bobbseys, paying a
visit, when a telegram was brought up for Mr. Bobbsey.

"It's from Lakeport," he said, as he opened it and saw the date and the
name of the place from which it had come.

"From Lakeport?" asked Mr. Whipple, as Mr. Bobbsey was reading the
message. "That's where the old woodsman lives, isn't it?"

"Yes," answered Mrs. Bobbsey. "And, though he is very ill, he is being
well looked after, thanks to the money you gave for him."

"Oh, I didn't give much. It was your husband who did the most. I was glad
to help, for I always have a soft spot in my heart for those who camp in
the woods. How is Uncle Jack, by the way? I believe that's his name?"

"Yes, that _was_ his name," said Mr. Bobbsey in a queer voice, as he held
the telegram out to Mr. Whipple.

"It was his name--what do you mean?"

"I mean that he has come to his senses now. The doctors have operated on
him and he will get better. There was an injury to his head that made him
forget much of his early life. But now he is all right and he remembers
his real name."

"What is it?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey, while the others breathlessly waited for
an answer. "What is his real name?"

"John Whipple," was the answer. "That's what this telegram is about.
Though everybody called the woodchopper Uncle Jack, his real name is John
Whipple!"

CHAPTER XXII

REUNITED

The Bobbsey twins were not as much surprised at what their father said,
after reading the telegram, as was Mr. Whipple. He fairly jumped up from
his chair, on hearing what Mr. Bobbsey answered, and reached out his hand
for the message.

"His name is Whipple!" cried the department store owner. "Are you sure his
name is John Whipple?"

"That's what the telegram says," went on Mr. Bobbsey. "You may read it. It
seems he asked to have it sent to me as soon as he knew he was getting
better, and when he remembered who he was. He says he remembers he had a
brother and a sister."

Mr. Whipple seemed very much excited. Even Flossie and Freddie, young as
they were, could tell that. He took the telegram from Mr. Bobbsey, but he
did not read it. Instead he looked at the children's father and asked:

"Do you know this old woodchopper very well?"

"I have seen him a number of times," said Mr. Bobbsey, "and he often comes
to my house with loads of wood. The children know him, too. I have told
you how he helped Freddie and Flossie out of the snow bank and took them
to his cabin."

"What sort of looking man is he?" the store owner questioned eagerly.

Mr. Bobbsey described Uncle Jack's looks, and also told of his having come
to Lakeport a number of years before, from where, no one knew. He made
friends and lived in the woods. That was all that was known about him.
Few, if any, had known his name until now.

"And so he is John Whipple," said Mr. Bobbsey, rather talking to himself
than to any one else. "Strange that he should have forgotten it all these
years, I wonder if I can find his folks. Why, your name is Whipple!" he
said to Laddie's uncle. "Do you know who Uncle Jack might be?"

"I think I do," said Mr. Whipple slowly, and his voice trembled. "I think
he is my long-lost brother, and the brother of my sister--he is Laddie's
other uncle! Oh, if it only turns out that way!"

"Is Uncle John found?" asked Laddie, who, with his playmates, Flossie and
Freddie, began to understand a little of what was going on. "Is Uncle John
found?"

"We hope so, my dear," said his aunt gently. "How can we make sure?" she
asked her husband.

"There is only one way," he said.

"You mean to go to Lakeport?"

"That's it. Where can I find him?" asked Mr. Whipple of Mr. Bobbsey.
"Uncle Jack, I will call him, until I make sure he is my long-lost
brother," he added.

"He was taken to a private hospital, not far out of town. I'll be very
glad if you and your wife, and Laddie, as well, will come back to Lakeport
with us. Then you can see Uncle Jack and make sure whether or not he is
your brother."

"I'll be glad to do that. But I thought you were going to stay in New
York for some time yet."

"We can go back to-morrow if need be," said Mr. Bobbsey. "My business is
now in good shape, and I can come back here if there is any call for me."

"Oh, let's all go back to Lakeport!" cried Freddie. "Maybe then we can
have a goat, Flossie."

"Oh, may we, Mother?" the little girl demanded.

"I'll buy 'em a goat--two goats--if this news proves true," said Mr.
Whipple. "Oh, I do hope I have found my brother!"

"How did he get lost?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

"It happened when my sister and I were very little children. John was
somewhat older. Our parents died, and distant relatives, living far away
from our home, took charge of my sister and me. John, who was a half-grown
boy, stayed with the family of a neighboring farmer, who had been friends
of our parents, and the relatives took my sister and me away with them.

"Shortly after this the farmer lost his money, his farm, everything, and
soon after moved away, taking John with them. News of this did not come
for some time to our relatives, and when it did and they began a search
for John, all trace of him was lost. They learned that the farmer had died
in a public hospital in a strange city, and all trace of his widow and
John was lost right there.

"When I became old enough, I started to look for John, but could not find
him. My sister could not, either, though lately she heard he was in
California, but it was not true. And so, for many years, we have been
trying to find John Whipple. And at last I know where he is!"

"Let us hope Uncle Jack is your brother," said Mr. Bobbsey gently.

"We will soon know," said Mrs. Whipple.

The stay of the Bobbseys in the great city of New York came to a sudden
end, but they had had a good time, and might come again some time.
Besides, Mr. and Mrs. Whipple were going back with them, to see if the old
woodchopper were really the long-lost man, and Flossie and Freddie
thought that almost as good as if they had stayed in the city.

"And Laddie is coming, too!" cried Freddie. "We'll have heaps of good
times."

"And maybe we'll get a goat," said Flossie. "If we do, I'm going to drive
him sometimes."

"Yes, you can," agreed Freddie.

Mr. Bobbsey closed up most of his New York business matters, and Mr.
Whipple, with his wife and Laddie, got ready to go to Lakeport with the
Bobbseys. Word was sent to Dinah, the fat cook, and her husband, Sam, to
get the Lakeport house ready for the family and for the Whipples, who
would stay with them for a short time.

Another telegram came from the hospital about Uncle Jack. It said he was
doing well, and that his mind was clear. He was certain he was John
Whipple, and that he had relations somewhere. But, for fear there might be
a disappointment, after all, no word was sent him about Mr. Daniel
Whipple's coming on. Nor was Laddie's mother, in California, told. They
wanted to make sure there would be no mistake.

Once more the Bobbsey twins were in the big Pennsylvania station, and
Freddie almost made the whole party miss the train by stopping in the
arcade to show Laddie where the bugs, that went "around and around and
around," had been bought.

"See what beautiful colors they are!" exclaimed Freddie. "Green and blue
and red and brown and pink and yellow and--and--oh, every kind!"

"And you ought to see how fast some of 'em go around!" exclaimed Flossie.
"They just keep on going around and around and around till sometimes you
can't most see 'em go!"

"And you wind 'em just like this----" explained Freddie, making a queer
little movement with his chubby hand.

"Oh, I know just how they go," said Laddie. "Didn't I see yours run?"

"Come, children, we'll have to hurry," said Mr. Bobbsey. "We don't want to
miss the train."

"I want some of those bugs," said Laddie wistfully.

"We can get some later," replied his aunt.

"But they may be all gone when we come back!"

"I don't think so," his aunt replied. "See! They have a whole store full
of them." And then the crowd hurried off to catch the train.

In due time they arrived in Lakeport, and when Flossie and Freddie rushed
into the house, almost knocking down dear old fat Dinah, they found
Splash, the big dog, waiting for them. And Splash did really knock Flossie
down, he was so glad to see her. But she was so fat that, really, falling
just to the floor did not hurt her at all. And, anyhow, she sat down on
the tail of Splash, so it was like a cushion, only, of course, he could
not wag it until Flossie got up.

"Oh, chilluns! how glad I is t' see yo' all!" cried Dinah, trying to hug
all four of them at once.

"And here's Laddie," said Flossie. "Aren't you glad to see him?"

"Co'se I is, chile! I lubs yo' all!" and she hugged Laddie, too.

Leaving his wife at the Bobbsey home, Mr. Whipple went with Mr. Bobbsey
to the hospital where Uncle Jack (as they still called him) had been
taken.

The old woodchopper was much better, though still weak and ill. One of the
doctors had told him some one was coming to see him, and had said it might
prove to be some one who knew about his brother and sister. Poor Uncle
Jack's eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, I only hope it is true," he said.

Mr. Whipple walked softly into the hospital room. After a short talk with
the old woodchopper, Mr. Daniel Whipple cried:

"It is true! I am your brother! Oh, John, I have found you at last!"

There was no doubt of it. After further talking it over between them, Mr.
Daniel Whipple and Mr. John Whipple made sure they were brothers. And when
Uncle Jack (as many still kept on calling him) got better, every one could
see that he and Mr. Whipple, the department store owner, looked very much
alike, except that the woodchopper was older.

But I must not call him a woodchopper, for he was that no longer.

"You are coming to live with me," said his brother Dan. "I have enough to
look after you. No more hard work for you!"

"I am very happy," said Uncle Jack. "Bless the dear children; they helped
you to find me as much as any one did."

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