Mr. Bobbsey poked his head out from between his curtains.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "Anything gone wrong?" he added
sleepily.
"Look!" exclaimed his wife. "What's that?" and she pointed to the
bundle lying on the floor.
"That? Oh, that must be _Freddie_," answered Mr. Bobbsey. "As
usual he's done something we didn't expect. He's fallen out of his car
bed."
CHAPTER XI
IN CHICAGO
Surely enough Freddie Bobbsey had fallen out of bed, or his "berth,"
as beds are called in sleeping cars. The little fellow had been
resting with his father, and on the inside, too, But he must have
become restless in his sleep, and have crawled over Mr. Bobbsey.
At any rate, when Freddie fell out he made a thud that his mother, in
her berth across the aisle, had heard.
But the carpet on the floor of the car was so soft, and Freddie was
such a fat, chubby little fellow, and he was so sound asleep, that he
was not at all hurt in his tumble, and he never even awakened. He just
went on sleeping, right there on the floor.
Pages:
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111