We , however , can follow them and learn much that their anxious mothers never knew . As soon as Flora and Dora recovered from the bewilderment occasioned by the confusion of the post office , they found themselves in one of the many leathern mail bags rumbling Eastward . As it was perfectly dark they could not see their companions , so listened to the whispering and rustling that went on about them . The newspapers all talked politics , and some of them used such bad language that the dolls would have covered their ears , if their hands had not been tied down . The letters were better behaved and more interesting , for they told one another the news they carried , because nothing is private in America , and even gummed envelopes can not keep gossip from leaking out . `` It is very interesting , but I should enjoy it more if I was not grinding my nose against the rough side of this leather bag , '' whispered Dora , who lay undermost just then . `` So should I , if a heavy book was not pinching my toes . I 've tried to kick it away , but it wo n't stir , and keeps droning on about reports and tariffs and such dull things , '' answered Flora , with a groan . `` Do you like travelling ? '' asked Dora , presently , when the letters and papers fell asleep , lulled by the motion of the cars . `` Not yet , but I shall when I can look about me . This bundle near by says the mails are often sorted in the cars , and in that way we shall see something of the world , I hope , '' answered Flora , cheering up , for , like her mamma , she was of an enquiring turn . The dolls took a nap of some hours , and were roused by a general tumbling out on a long shelf , where many other parcels lay , and lively men sent letters and papers flying here and there as if a whirlwind was blowing . A long box lay beside the dolls who stood nearly erect leaning against a pile of papers . Several holes were cut in the lid , and out of one of them was thrust a little black nose , as if trying to get air . `` Dear me ! what can be in it ? '' said Flora , who was nearest . `` I 'm a poor little alligator , going to a boy in Chicago , if you please , and I want my mother , '' sobbed a voice from the box , and there was a rap on the lid as of an agitated tail . `` Mercy on us !
I hope we shall not have to travel with the monster , '' whispered XXXXX , trying to see over her shoulder .
America Chicago Dora Flora hours leathern politics rustling tariffs whispering