A sudden gust of wind shook the window, followed by the patter of raindrops on the pane. “That doesn’t sound much like the first of December,” she thought, and shivered a little as it came again. “Whatever shall I do if it isn’t a fine day to-morrow? Why, I must have a fine day for Mummie and Daddy to arrive on--a real scrumptious, warm, December day.” The more she thought about it the more important it seemed. “It would be dreadful if it wasn’t even fine.” She sat up in bed to consider this all-important question, and as she did so, a large Book of Travels which she had been reading fell on to the floor with a loud thump. Coppertop jumped. Then, bending over the edge of the big bed to pick up the Book, she noticed, to her great surprise, that it had risen of its own accord, and was walking sedately over to the window. “That’s awfully strange!” exclaimed Coppertop. [Illustration: “If a Book of Travels can’t move about a bit, who can?”] “Not a bit,” replied the Book without turning round. “I must improve my circulation somehow! And if a book of travels can’t move about a bit, who can, I should like to know?” [Illustration: “Come along,” cried Tibbs (p. 19).] While Coppertop was wondering what reply to make, the Book reached out its hand and pulled the blind, which went up with such force that it twirled round and round the roller at the top. “What a day for the first of December!” exclaimed the Book. “I’m going to look for something better,” and so saying, it sat on the floor and rapidly turned over its own pages, saying as it did so: “North, South, East, West, Weather’s never at its best. India, Egypt, or Japan, Give us better, if you can.” Coppertop blinked at the book of travels, and then at the window, unable to believe her eyes. It was daybreak, and RAINING HARD. “Oh dear, oh dear, how dreadfully botherating!” she exclaimed, almost in tears. “I simply must get a fine December day somehow. It will never do for ‘them’ to arrive on a soaking wet day like this. It’s all the fault of that stupid old clerk of the weather, he does get things so mixed up! Why, this is more like a horrid July day!” “That’s what it is,” muttered the Book of Travels. “Oh, I do wish Tibbs and Kiddiwee were here to help me,” continued the child; “I don’t know what to do.” “I expect they’re waiting for you on the roof,” remarked the Book. “Follow me,” he continued, “we’ll soon put this little matter right.” And so saying, the book of travels ran over to the fireplace. “You may have to go all round the world to find a really fine December day,” he added, “so you’ve no time to lose. Come along!” And with a flap of his covers he flew up the chimney. “It looks as if it’s going to be a truly grand adventure,” cried Coppertop, with her eyes sparkling. And, springing out of the big four-posted bed, she followed quickly after the book. CHAPTER II. OFF ON AN ADVENTURE WITH TIBBS AND KIDDIWEE