The chauffeur got
down off his seat and opened the door as he saw Mr. and Mrs. Whipple.
"Yes, this is our machine," said the merchant. "I don't care much for
riding around New York, though in the Summer I take long trips in the car.
But as we have so many children with us to-day," and he looked at Nan,
Bert, Flossie, Freddie and Laddie, "it will be better to go in the
machine."
On the way up, through the streets of the great city, the Bobbsey twins,
as did Laddie, looked out of the windows at the many sights. Once Freddie
saw a fire engine speeding on its way to some blaze.
"Oh, let's get out and watch!" he begged.
"Of course we can't do that!" said Mrs. Bobbsey.
"But maybe the fireman who rescued me will be there," went on Freddie.
"I'd like to see him again."
"I'll take you around to his fire house some time," promised Mr. Whipple.
"Won't that do as well?"
Freddie thought it would, and then he noticed a street piano, on top of
which perched a monkey.
"Maybe that's the one who tore your hat, Flossie," he said.
"No, this is a bigger one," returned the little girl. "Besides, if he is
the same one I don't want to see him. I feel sorry about the nice cherries
on my hat."
"Don't you like the one you and your brother bought in my store?" asked
Mr. Whipple, with a laugh.
"Oh, yes, it's awful nice," said Flossie. "But it hasn't any _cherries_ on
it. But I like it just as well," she went on quickly, thinking, I suppose,
that it might not be polite to say she did not.
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