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diff --git a/26487-h/26487-h.htm b/26487-h/26487-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..01162e6 --- /dev/null +++ b/26487-h/26487-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3467 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Little Lucy's Wonderful Globe, by Charlotte M. Yonge. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-size: 85%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align:baseline; + position: relative; + bottom: 0.33em; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Little Lucy's Wonderful Globe, by Charlotte M. Yonge + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Little Lucy's Wonderful Globe + +Author: Charlotte M. Yonge + +Illustrator: L. Frolich + +Release Date: August 30, 2008 [EBook #26487] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE LUCY'S WONDERFUL GLOBE *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 328px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="328" height="500" alt="Cover: LITTLE LUCY'S WONDERFUL GLOBE" title="Cover: LITTLE LUCY'S WONDERFUL GLOBE" /> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> +<h1>LITTLE LUCY'S WONDERFUL GLOBE.</h1> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 123px;"> +<img src="images/emblem.png" width="123" height="40" alt="Emblem" title="Emblem" /> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 368px;"> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="368" height="500" alt=""I'm looking at the great big globe that Uncle Joe said I might touch," said Lucy." title=""I'm looking at the great big globe that Uncle Joe said I might touch," said Lucy." /> +<span class="caption">"<ins title="Transcriber's Note: this word missing in original text">I'm</ins> looking at the great big globe that Uncle Joe said I might touch," said Lucy.</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Frontispiece; see <a href="#Page_14">page 14</a>.</i></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> + +<h1>LITTLE LUCY'S<br /> +WONDERFUL GLOBE</h1> + + +<h3>PICTURED BY</h3> + +<h2>L. FROLICH,</h2> + +<h3>AND NARRATED BY</h3> + +<h2>CHARLOTTE M. YONGE</h2> + +<div class='center'>AUTHOR OF "THE HEIR OF REDCLYFFE."</div> + +<div class='poem'> +<i>"Young fingers idly roll</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>The mimic earth, or trace,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>In picture bright of blue and gold,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>The orbs that round the sky's deep fold</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Each other circling chase."</i>—<span class="smcap">Keble.</span></span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='center'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />NEW EDITION<br /> + +<br /><br /><br /> +<b>New York</b><br /> +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /> +LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd.<br /> +1906<br /></div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span></p> + +<div class='copyright'>New edition September, 1906.</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'>CHAPTER I.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MOTHER BUNCH</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER II.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>VISITORS FROM THE SOUTH SEAS.</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER III.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>ITALY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER IV.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>GREENLAND</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER V.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>TYROL</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER VI.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>AFRICA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER VII.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>LAPLANDERS</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER VIII.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHINA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER IX.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span>KAMSCHATKA</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER X.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE TURK</td><td align='right'><ins title="Transcriber's Note: this reference missing in original text"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></ins></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER XI.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>SWITZERLAND</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER XII.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE COSSACK</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER XIII.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>SPAIN</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER XIV.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>GERMANY</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER XV.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>PARIS IN THE SIEGE</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER XVI.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE AMERICAN GUEST</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_126">126</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center' colspan='2'><br />CHAPTER XVII.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE DREAM OF ALL NATIONS </td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></p> + +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="1" summary="Illustration Table"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"I'M LOOKING AT THE GREAT BIG GLOBE THAT UNCLE JOE SAID I MIGHT TOUCH," SAID LUCY</div></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_iv"><i>Front.</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"DO PLEASE SIT DOWN, THERE'S A GOOD MOTHER BUNCH, AND TELL ME ALL ABOUT THEM?"</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>LUCY HAD A GREAT SNEEZING FIT, AND WHEN SHE LOOKED AGAIN INTO THE SMOKE, WHAT DID SHE SEE BUT TWO LITTLE BLACK FIGURES</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_22">23</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'I'M'">I AM</ins> SO GLAD TO SEE YOU: HUSH, DON! DON'T BARK SO"</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_27">26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"I CAN EAT MUCH BETTER WITHOUT," SAID LAVO</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_30">31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>LAVO HAD CLIMBED UP THE SIDE OF THE DOOR, AND WAS SITTING ASTRIDE ON THE TOP OF IT</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_35">34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"AH! CECCO, CECCO!" CRIED THE LITTLE GIRL, PAUSING AS SHE BEAT HER TAMBOURINE</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_38">39</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"IS THAT THE WAY YOU GET FISH?" SHE ASKED</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_47">46</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"HELP ME: I'M AFRAID," SAID LUCY</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_52">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>HARK! THERE'S A CRY, AND OUT JUMPS A LITTLE BLACK FIGURE, WITH A STOUT CLUB IN HIS HAND</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_58">59</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>AND HERE BESIDE HER WAS A LITTLE FELLOW WITH A BOW AND ARROWS SUCH AS SHE HAD NEVER SEEN BEFORE</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_64">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"IS IT NOT GOOD?" SAID THE LITTLE HOSTESS</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_72">73</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>WHISKING OVER THE SNOW, WITH ALL HER MIGHT AND MAIN, MUFFLED UP IN CLOAKS AND FURS</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_79">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"MARRIED! OH NO, YOU ARE JOKING"</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_86">87</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"I WILL SHOW YOU WHERE YOU LIVE—THIS IS CONSTANTINOPLE"</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_92">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"I CUT IT OUT WITH MY KNIFE; ALL MYSELF"</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_98">99</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>WHILE HE JERKED OUT HIS ARMS AND LEGS AS IF THEY WERE PULLED BY STRINGS</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_102">103</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"SEE NOW," CRIED THE SPANIARD; "STAND THERE! AH! HAVE YOU NO CASTANETS?"</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_110">111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span>"WHAT ARE YOU ABOUT, LITTLE BOY?"</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_114">115</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"AH! MADEMOISELLE, GOOD MORNING; ARE YOU COME HERE TO TAKE SHELTER FROM THE SHELLS?"</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_123">122</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"WHAT CAN THAT BE, COMING AT THIS TIME OF DAY?"</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_126">127</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>"GOOD MORNING, WHERE DO YOU COME FROM?"</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_131">130</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class='hang1'>OH! SUCH A DIN</div></td><td align='right' valign='bottom'><a href="#Page_137">136</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h2>LITTLE LUCY'S WONDERFUL GLOBE.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>MOTHER BUNCH.</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was once a wonderful fortnight in +little Lucy's life. One evening she went to +bed very tired and cross and hot, and in the +morning when she looked at her arms and legs +they were all covered with red spots, rather +pretty to look at, only they were dry and +prickly.</p> + +<p>Nurse was frightened when she looked at +them. She turned all the little sisters out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +the night nursery, covered Lucy up close, and +ordered her not to stir, certainly not to go into +her bath. Then there was a whispering and a +running about, and Lucy was half alarmed, but +more pleased at being so important, for she did +not feel at all ill, and quite enjoyed the tea +and toast that Nurse brought up to her. Just +as she was beginning to think it rather tiresome +to lie there with nothing to do, except to watch +the flies buzzing about, there was a step on the +stairs and up came the doctor. He was an old +friend, very good-natured, and he made fun with +Lucy about having turned into a spotted leopard, +just like the cowry shell on Mrs. Bunker's +mantelpiece. Indeed, he said he thought she +was such a curiosity that Mrs. Bunker would +come for her and set her up in the museum, +and then he went away. Suppose, oh, suppose +she did!</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bunker, or Mother Bunch, as Lucy and +her brothers and sisters called her, was housekeeper +to their Uncle Joseph. He was really<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +their great uncle, and they thought him any +age you can imagine. They would not have +been much surprised to hear that he had sailed +with Christopher Columbus, though he was a +strong, hale, active man, much less easily tired +than their own papa. He had been a ship's +surgeon in his younger days, and had sailed all +over the world, and collected all sorts of curious +things, besides which he was a very wise and +learned man, and had made some great discovery. +It was <i>not</i> America. Lucy knew that +her elder brother understood what it was, but +it was not worth troubling her head about, only +somehow it made ships go safer, and so he +had had a pension given him as a reward; and +had come home and bought a house about a +mile out of the town, and built up a high room +to look at the stars from with his telescope, and +another to try his experiments in, and a long +one besides for his museum; yet, after all, he +was not much there, for whenever there was +anything wonderful to be seen, he always went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +off to look at it and; whenever there was a +meeting of learned men—scientific men was the +right word—they always wanted him to help +them make speeches and show wonders. He +was away now: he had gone away to wear a +red cross on his arm, and help to take care of +the wounded in the sad war between the French +and Germans.</p> + +<p>But he had left Mother Bunch behind him. +Nobody knew exactly what was Mrs. Bunker's +nation, indeed she could hardly be said to have +had any, for she had been born at sea, and had +been a sailor's wife; but whether she was mostly +English, Dutch, or Danish, nobody knew and +nobody cared. Her husband had been lost at +sea, and Uncle Joseph had taken her to look +after his house, and always said she was the +only woman who had sense and discretion +enough ever to go into his laboratory or dust +his museum.</p> + +<p>She was very kind and good-natured, and +there was nothing that the children liked better<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +than a walk to Uncle Joseph's, and, after a +game at play in the garden, a tea-drinking with +her—such quantities of sugar! such curious cakes +made in the fashion of different countries! such +funny preserves from all parts of the world! +and more delightful to people who considered +that looking and hearing was better sport than +eating, and that the tongue is not <i>only</i> meant +to taste with, such cupboards and drawers full +of wonderful things, such stories about them! +The lesser ones liked Mrs. Bunker's room better +than Uncle Joseph's museum, where there were +some big stuffed beasts with glaring eyes that +frightened them, and they had to walk round +with hands behind, that they might not touch +anything, or else their uncle's voice was sure +to call out gruffly, "Paws off!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bunker was not a bit like the smart +housekeepers at other houses. To be sure, on +Sundays she came out in a black silk gown +with a little flounce at the bottom, a scarlet +China crape shawl with a blue dragon upon it—his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +wings over her back, and a claw over +each shoulder, so that whoever sat behind her +in church was terribly distracted by trying to +see the rest of him—and a very big yellow +Tuscan bonnet, trimmed with sailor's blue ribbon; +but in the week and about the house she wore +a green stuff, with a brown holland apron and +bib over it, quite straight all the way down, for +she had no particular waist, and her hair, which +was of a funny kind of flaxen grey, she bundled +up and tied round, without any cap or anything +else on her head. One of the little boys had +once called her Mother Bunch, because of her +stories; and the name fitted her so well that +the whole family, and even her master, took +it up.</p> + +<p>Lucy was very fond of her; but when about +an hour after the doctor's visit she was waked +by a rustling and a lumbering on the stairs, and +presently the door opened, and the second best big +bonnet—the go-to-market bonnet with the turned +ribbons—came into the room with Mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +Bunch's face under it, and the good-natured voice +told her she was to be carried to Uncle Joseph's +and have oranges and tamarinds, she did begin +to feel like the spotted cowry, to think about +being set on the chimney-piece, to cry, and say +she wanted Mamma.</p> + +<p>The Nurse and Mother Bunch began to comfort +her, and explain that the doctor thought +she had the scarlatina; not at all badly; but +that if any of the others caught it, nobody could +guess how bad they would be; especially +Mamma, who had just been ill; and so she was +to be rolled up in her blankets, and put into a +carriage, and taken to her uncle's; and there she +would stay till she was not only well, but could +safely come home without carrying infection +about with her.</p> + +<p>Lucy was a good little girl, and knew that +she must bear it; so, though she could not +help crying a little when she found she must +not kiss any one, nay not even see them, and +that nobody might go with her but Lonicera,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +her own washing doll, she made up her mind +bravely; and she was a good deal cheered when +Clare, the biggest and best of all the dolls, was +sent in to her, with all her clothes, by Maude, +her eldest sister, to be her companion,—it was +such an honour and so very kind of Maude +that it quite warmed the sad little heart.</p> + +<p>So Lucy had her little scarlet flannel dressing +gown on, and her shoes and stockings, and a +wonderful old knitted hood with a tippet to it, +and then she was rolled round and round in +all her bed-clothes, and Mrs. Bunker took her +up like a very big baby, not letting any one +else touch her. How Mrs. Bunker got safe down +all the stairs no one can tell, but she did, and +into the fly, and there poor little Lucy looked +back and saw at the windows Mamma's face, +and Papa's, and Maude's, and all the rest, all +nodding and smiling to her, but Maude was +crying all the time, and perhaps Mamma was +too.</p> + +<p>The journey seemed very long; and Lucy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +was really tired when she was put down at last +in a big bed, nicely warmed for her, and with +a bright fire in the room. As soon as she had +had some beef-tea, she went off soundly to +sleep, and only woke to drink tea, and administer +supper to the dolls, and put them to sleep.</p> + +<p>The next evening she was sitting up by the +fire, and on the fourth day she was running +about the house as if nothing had ever been +the matter with her, but she was not to go +home for a fortnight; and being wet, cold, dull +weather, it was not always easy to amuse +herself. She had her dolls, to be sure, and +the little dog Don, to play with, and sometimes +Mrs. Bunker would let her make funny things +with the dough, or stone the raisins, or even +help make a pudding; but still there was a +good deal of time on her hands. She had only +two books with her, and the rash had made +her eyes weak, so that she did not much like +reading them. The notes that every one wrote +from home were quite enough for her. What<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +she liked best—that is, when Mrs. Bunker could +not attend to her—was to wander about the +museum, explaining the things to the dolls: +"That is a crocodile, Lonicera; it eats people +up, and has a little bird to pick its teeth. +Look, Clare, that bony thing is a skeleton—the +skeleton of a lizard. Paws off, my dear; +mustn't touch. That's amber, just like barley +sugar, only not so nice; people make necklaces +of it. There's a poor little dead fly inside. +Those are the dear delightful humming-birds; +look at their crests, just like Mamma's jewels. +See the shells; aren't they beauties? People +get pearls out of those great flat ones, and dive +all down to the bottom of the sea after them; +mustn't touch, my dear, only look; paws off."</p> + +<p>One would think Clare's curved fingers all in +one piece, and Lonicera's blue leather hands had +been very movable and mischievous, judging by +the number of times this warning came; but of +course it was Lucy herself who wanted it most, +for her own little plump, pinky hands did almost<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +tingle to handle and turn round those pretty +shells. She wanted to know whether the amber +tasted like barley-sugar as it looked, and there +was a little musk deer, no bigger than Don, +whom she longed to stroke, or still better to let +Lonicera ride; but she was a good little girl, and +had real sense of honour, which never betrays a +trust, so she never laid a finger on anything but +what Uncle Joe had once given all free leave to +move.</p> + +<p>This was a very big pair of globes—bigger +than globes commonly are now, and with more +frames round them—one great flat one, with odd +names painted on it, and another brass one, +nearly upright, going half-way round from top +to bottom, and with the globe hung upon it by +two pins, which Lucy's elder sisters called the +poles, or the ends of the axis. The huge round +balls went very easily with a slight touch, and +there was something very charming in making +them go whisk, whisk, whisk; now faster, now +slower, now spinning so quickly that nothing on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +them could be seen, now turning slowly and +gradually over and showing all that was on +them.</p> + +<p>The mere twirling was quite enough for Lucy +at first, but soon she liked to look at what was +on them. One she thought much more entertaining +than the other. It was covered with +wonderful creatures: one bear was fastened by +his long tail to the pole; another bigger one +was trotting round; a snake was coiling about +anywhere; a lady stood disconsolate against a +rock; another sat in a chair; a giant sprawled +with a club in one hand and a lion's skin in the +other; a big dog and a little dog stood on their +hind legs; a lion seemed just about to spring +on a young maiden's head; and all were thickly +spotted over, just as if they had Lucy's rash, +with stars big and little: and still more +strange, her brothers declared these were the +stars in the sky, and this was the way people +found their road at sea; but if Lucy asked how, +they always said she was not big enough to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +understand, and it had not occurred to Lucy +to ask whether the truth was not that they +were not big enough to explain.</p> + +<p>The other globe was all in pale green, with +pink and yellow outlines on it, and quantities +of names. Lucy had had to learn some of +these names for her geography, and she did +not want to think of lessons now, so she rather +kept out of the way of looking at it at first, +till she had really grown tired of all the odd +men and women and creatures upon the celestial +sphere; but by and by she began to roll the +other by way of variety.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>VISITORS FROM THE SOUTH SEAS.</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Miss</span> Lucy, you're as quiet as a mouse. +Not in any mischief?" said Mrs. Bunker, looking +into the museum; "why, what are you doing +there?"</p> + +<p>"I'm looking at the great big globe, that +Uncle Joe said I might touch," said Lucy: +"here are all the names just like my lesson +book at home; Europe, Asia, Africa, and +America."</p> + +<p>"Why, bless the child! where else should +they be? There be all the oceans and seas +besides that I've crossed over, many's the time,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +with poor Ben Bunker, who was last seen off +Cape Hatteras."</p> + +<p>"What, all these great green places, with +Atlantic and Pacific on them; you don't really +mean that you've sailed over them! I should +like to make a midge do it in a husk of hemp-seed! +How could you, Mother Bunch? You +are not small enough."</p> + +<p>"Ho! ho!" said the housekeeper, laughing; +"does the child think I sailed on that very +globe there?"</p> + +<p>"I know one learns names," said Lucy; "but +is it real?"</p> + +<p>"Real! Why, Missie, don't you see it's a +sort of a picture? There's your photograph +now, it's not as big as you, but it shows you; +and so a chart, or a map, or a globe, is just +a picture of the shapes of the coast-line of the +land and the sea, and the rivers in them, and +mountains, and the like. Look you here:" +and she made Lucy stand on a chair and look +at a map of her own town that was hanging<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +against the wall, showing her all the chief +buildings, the churches, streets, the town hall, +and market cross, and at last helping her to +find her own Papa's house.</p> + +<p>When Lucy had traced all the corners she +had to turn in going from home to Uncle Joe's, +and had even found little frizzles for the five +lime-trees before the Vicarage, she understood +that the map was a small picture of the +situation of the buildings in the town, and +thought she could find her way to some new +place, suppose she studied it well.</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Bunker showed her a big map of +the whole country, and there Lucy found the +river, and the roads, and the names of the +villages near, as she had seen or heard of +them; and she began to understand that a map +or globe really brought distant places into an +exceedingly small picture, and that where she +saw a name and a spot she was to think of +houses and churches; that a branching black +line was a flowing river full of water; a curve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +in, a pretty bay shut in with rocks and hills; +a point jutting out, generally a steep rock +with a lighthouse on it.</p> + +<p>"And all these places are countries, Bunchey, +are they, with fields and houses like ours?"</p> + +<p>"Houses, ay, and fields, but not always so +very like ours, Miss Lucy."</p> + +<p>"And are there little children, boys and girls, +in them all?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure there are, else how would the +world go on? Why, I've seen 'em by swarms, +white or brown or black, running down to the +shore, as sure as the vessel cast anchor; and +whatever colour they were, you might be sure +of two things, Miss Lucy, that they were all +alike in."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what, Mrs. Bunker?"</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 301px;"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a> +<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="301" height="400" alt=""Do please sit down, there's a good Mother Bunch, and tell me all about them."" title=""Do please sit down, there's a good Mother Bunch, and tell me all about them."" /> +<span class="caption">"Do please sit down, there's a good Mother Bunch, and tell me all about them."</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 18.</i></div></div> + +<p>"Why, in plenty of noise for one, and the +other for wanting all they could get to eat. +But they were little darlings, some of them, if +I only could have got at them to make them a +bit nicer. Some of them looked for all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +world like the little bronze images Master has +got in the museum, brought from Italy, and +hadn't a rag more clothing neither. They were +in India. Dear, dear, to see them tumble about +in the surf!"</p> + +<p>"O, what fun! what fun! I wish I could see +them. Suppose I could."</p> + +<p>"You would be right glad, Missie, I can tell +you, if you had been three or four months +aboard with nothing but dry biscuits and salt +junk, and may be a tin of preserved vegetables +just to keep it wholesome, to see the black +fellows come grinning alongside with their boats +and canoes all full of oranges and limes and +shaddocks and cocoa-nuts. Doesn't one's mouth +fairly water for them?"</p> + +<p>"Do please sit down, there's a good Mother +Bunch, and tell me all about them? Come, +suppose you do."</p> + +<p>"Suppose I did, Miss Lucy, and where would +your poor uncle's preserved ginger be, that no +one knows from real West Indian?"</p> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +"Oh, let me come into your room, and you +can tell me all the time you are doing the +ginger."</p> + +<p>"It is very hot there, Missie."</p> + +<p>"That will be more like some of the places. +I'll suppose I'm there! Look, Mrs. Bunker, +here's a whole green sea, all over the tiniest +little dots. There can't be people in them."</p> + +<p>"Dots? You'd hardly see all over one of those +dots if you were in one. That's the South Sea +Miss Lucy, and those are the loveliest isles, +except, may be, the West Indies, that ever I +saw."</p> + +<p>"Tell me about them, please," entreated Lucy +"Here's one; its name is—is Ysabel—such a +little wee one."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 301px;"> +<img src="images/i002.jpg" width="301" height="400" alt="Lucy had a great sneezing fit, and when she looked again into the smoke, what did she see but two little black figures." title="Lucy had a great sneezing fit, and when she looked again into the smoke, what did she see but two little black figures." /> +<span class="caption">Lucy had a great sneezing fit, and when she looked again into the smoke, what did she see but two little black figures.</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 22.</i></div></div> + + +<p>"I can't tell you much of those South Sea +Isles, Missie, being that I only made one +voyage among them, when Bunker chartered the +<i>Penguin</i> for the sandal-wood trade; and we did +not touch at many, being that the natives were +fierce and savage, and made nothing of coming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +down with arrows and spears at a boat's crew. +So we only went to such islands as the missionaries +had been at, and got the people to be +more civil and conformable."</p> + +<p>"Tell me all about it," said Lucy, following +the old woman hither and thither as she bustled +about, talking all the time, and stirring her pan +of ginger over the hot plate.</p> + +<p>How it happened, it is not easy to say; the +room was very warm, and Mother Bunch went +on talking as she stirred, and a steam rose up, +and by and by it seemed to Lucy that she had +a great sneezing fit, and when she looked again +into the smoke, what did she see but two little +black figures, faces, heads, and feet all black, +but with an odd sort of white garment round +their waists, and some fine red and green +feathers sticking out of their woolly heads.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Bunker, Mrs. Bunker," she cried, "what's +this? who are these ugly figures?"</p> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/i003.jpg" width="300" height="400" alt=""I am so glad to see you. Hush, Don! don't bark so!"" title=""I am so glad to see you. Hush, Don! don't bark so!"" /> +<span class="caption">"I am so glad to see you. Hush, Don! don't bark so!"</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 27.</i></div></div> + + +<p>"Ugly!" said the foremost; and though it +must have been some strange language, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +sounded like English to Lucy. "Is that the +way little white girl speaks to boy and girl that +have come all the way from Ysabel to see +her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed! little Ysabel boy, I beg your +pardon. I didn't know you were real, nor that +you could understand me! I am so glad to see +you. Hush, Don! don't bark so!"</p> + +<p>"Pig, pig, I never heard a pig squeak like +that," said the black stranger.</p> + +<p>"Pig! It is a little dog. Have you no dogs +in your country?"</p> + +<p>"Pigs go on four legs. That must be pig."</p> + +<p>"What, you have nothing that goes on four +legs but a pig! What do you eat, then, besides +pig?"</p> + +<p>"Yams, cocoa-nut, fish—oh, so good, and put +pig into hole among hot stones, make a fire +over, bake so nice!"</p> + +<p>"You shall have some of my tea and see if +that is as nice," said Lucy. "What a funny +dress you have; what is it made of?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tapa cloth," said the little girl. "We get +the bark off the tree, and then we go hammer, +hammer, thump, thump, till all the hard thick +stuff comes off;" and Lucy, looking near, saw +that the substance was really all a lacework of +fibre, about as close as the net of Nurse's caps.</p> + +<p>"Is that all your clothes?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, till I am a warrior," said the boy; +"then they will tattoo my forehead, and arms, +and breast, and legs."</p> + +<p>"Tattoo! what's that?"</p> + +<p>"Make little holes, and lines all over the skin +with a sharp shell, and rub in juice that turns +it all to blue and purple lines."</p> + +<p>"But doesn't it hurt dreadfully?" asked Lucy.</p> + +<p>"Hurt! to be sure it does, but that will show +that I am brave. When Father comes home +from the war, he paints himself white."</p> + +<p>"White!"</p> + +<p>"With lime made by burning coral, and he +jumps and dances and shouts: I shall go to +the war one of these days."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh no, don't!" said Lucy, "it is horrid."</p> + +<p>The boy laughed, but the little girl whispered, +"Good white men say so. Some day Lavo will +go and learn, and leave off fighting."</p> + +<p>Lavo shook his head. "No, not yet; I will +be brave chief and warrior first,—bring home +many heads of enemies."</p> + +<p>"I—I think it nice to be quiet," said Lucy; +"and—and—won't you have some dinner?"</p> + +<p>"Have you baked a pig?" asked Lavo.</p> + +<p>"I think this is mutton," said Lucy, when +the dish came up,—"it is sheep's flesh."</p> + +<p>Lavo and his sister had no notion what sheep +were. They wanted to sit cross-legged on the +floor, but Lucy made each of them sit in a +chair properly; but then they shocked her by +picking up the mutton-chops and stuffing them +into their mouths with their fingers.</p> + +<p>"Look here!" and she showed the knives and forks.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Lavo, "what good spikes to +catch fish with! and knife—knife—I'll kill foes! +much better than shell knife."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 309px;"> +<img src="images/i004.jpg" width="309" height="400" alt=""I can eat much better without," said Lavo." title=""I can eat much better without," said Lavo." /> +<span class="caption">"I can eat much better without," said Lavo.</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 30.</i></div></div> + + + +<p>"And I'll dig yams," said the sister.</p> + +<p>"Oh no!" entreated Lucy, "we have spades +to dig with, soldiers have swords to fight with, +these are to eat with."</p> + +<p>"I can eat much better without," said Lavo, +but to please Lucy his sister did try; slashing +hard away with her knife, and digging her fork +straight into a bit of meat. Then she very +nearly ran it into her eye, and Lucy, who +knew it was not good manners to laugh, was +very near choking herself. And at last, saying +the knife and fork were "great good—great +good; but none for eating," they stuck them +through the great tortoiseshell rings they had +in their ears and noses. Lucy was distressed +about Uncle Joseph's knives and forks, which +she knew she ought not to give away; but +while she was looking about for Mrs. Bunker to +interfere, Don seemed to think it his business, +and began to growl and fly at the little black +legs.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 285px;"> +<img src="images/i005.jpg" width="285" height="400" alt="Lavo had climbed up the side of the door, and was sitting astride on the top of it." title="Lavo had climbed up the side of the door, and was sitting astride on the top of it." /> +<span class="caption">Lavo had climbed up the side of the door, and was sitting astride on the top of it.</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 35.</i></div></div> + + + +<p>"A tree, a tree!" cried the Ysabelites, "where's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +a tree?" and while they spoke, Lavo had climbed +up the side of the door, and was sitting astride on +the top of it, grinning down at the dog, and his +sister had her feet on the lock, going up after +him.</p> + +<p>"Tree houses," they cried; "there we are safe +from our enemies."</p> + +<p>And Lucy found rising before her, instead of +her own nursery, a huge tree, on the top of a +mound.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Basket-work had been woven between +the branches to make floors, and on these were +huts of bamboo cane; there were ladders hanging +down made of strong creepers twisted together, +and above and around the cries of cockatoos and +parrots and the chirp of grasshoppers rang in her +ears. She laid hold of the ladder of creeping +plants and began to climb, but soon her head +swam, she grew giddy, and called out to Lavo +to help her. Then suddenly she found herself +curled up in Mrs. Bunker's big beehive chair, +and she wondered whether she had been asleep.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>ITALY.</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Suppose</span> and suppose I could have such +another funny dream," said Lucy. "Mother +Bunch, have you ever been to Italy?" and she +put her finger on the long leg and foot, kicking +at three-cornered Sicily.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Missie, that I have; come out of this +cold room and I'll tell you."</p> + +<p>Lucy was soon curled in her chair; but no, +she wasn't! she was under such a blue, blue +sky, as she had never dreamt of: clear sharp +purple hills rose up against it. There was a +clear rippling little fountain, bursting out of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +rock, carved with old, old carvings, broken now +and defaced, but shadowed over by lovely +maidenhair fern and trailing bindweed; and in +a niche above a little roof, sheltering a figure +of the Blessed Virgin. Some way off stood a +long low house propped up against the rich +yellow stone walls and pillars of another old, +old building, and with a great chestnut-tree +shadowing over it. It had a balcony, and the +gable end was open, and full of big yellow +pumpkins and clusters of grapes hung up to +dry, and some goats were feeding round.</p> + +<p>Then came a merry, merry voice singing +something about <i>la vendemmia</i>; and though +Lucy had never learnt Italian, her wonderful +dream knowledge made her sure that this +meant the vintage, the grape-gathering; and +presently there came along a little girl dancing +and beating a tambourine, with a basket +fastened to her back, filled to overflowing with +big, beautiful bunches of grapes: and a whole +party of other children, all loaded with as many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +grapes as they could carry, came leaping and +singing after her; their black hair loose, or +sometimes twisted with vine-leaves; their big +black eyes dancing with merriment, and their +bare brown legs with glee.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 298px;"> +<img src="images/i006.jpg" width="298" height="400" alt=""Ah! Cecco, Cecco!" cried the little girl, pausing as she beat her tambourine." title=""Ah! Cecco, Cecco!" cried the little girl, pausing as she beat her tambourine." /> +<span class="caption">"Ah! Cecco, Cecco!" cried the little girl, pausing as she beat her tambourine.</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 38.</i></div></div> + + + +<p>"Ah! Cecco, Cecco!" cried the little girl, +pausing as she beat her tambourine, "here's a +stranger who has no grapes; give them here!"</p> + +<p>"But," said Lucy, "aren't they your Mamma's +grapes; may you give them away?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, ah! 'tis the <i>vendemmia</i>! all may eat +grapes; as much as they will. See, there's the +vineyard."</p> + +<p>Lucy saw on the slope of the hill above the +cottage long poles such as hops grow upon, +and vines trained about hither and thither in +long festoons, with leaves growing purple with +autumn, and clusters hanging down. Men in +shady battered hats, bright sashes and braces, +and white shirt sleeves, and women with handkerchiefs +folded square over their heads, were +cutting the grapes down, and piling them up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +in baskets; and a low cart drawn by two +mouse-coloured oxen, with enormous wide horns +and gentle-looking eyes, was waiting to be +loaded with the baskets.</p> + +<p>"To the wine-press! to the press!" shouted +the children, who were politeness itself and +wanted to show her everything.</p> + +<p>The wine-press was a great marble trough +with pipes leading off into other vessels around. +Into it went the grapes, and in the midst were +men and boys and little children, all with bare +feet and legs up to the knees, dancing and +leaping, and bounding and skipping upon the +grapes, while the red juice covered their brown +skins.</p> + +<p>"Come in, come in; you don't know how +charming it is!" cried Cecco. "It is the best +time of all the year, the dear vintage; come +and tread the grapes."</p> + +<p>"But you must take off your shoes and +stockings," said his sister, Nunziata; "we never +wear them but on Sundays and holidays."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lucy was not sure that she might, but the +children looked so joyous, and it seemed to be +such fun, that she began fumbling with the +buttons of her boots, and while she was doing +it she opened her eyes, and found that her +beautiful bunch of grapes was only the cushion +in the bottom of Mother Bunch's chair.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>GREENLAND.</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Suppose</span> and suppose I tried what the very +cold countries are like!"</p> + +<p>And Lucy bent over the globe till she was +nearly ready to cut her head off with the brass +meridian, as she looked at the long jagged +tongue, with no particular top to it, hanging +down on the east side of America. Perhaps +it was the making herself so cold that did it, +but she found herself in the midst of snow, +snow, snow. All was snow except the sea, and +that was a deep green, and in it were monstrous +floating white things, pinnacled all over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +like the Cathedral, and as big, and with hollows +in them of glorious deep blue and green, like +jewels; Lucy knew they were icebergs. A sort +of fringe of these cliffs of ice hemmed in the +shore. And on one of them stood what she +thought at first was a little brown bear, for +the light was odd, the sun was so very low +down, and there was so much glare from the +snow that it seemed unnatural. However, before +she had time to be afraid of the bear, +she saw that it was really a little boy, with a +hood and coat and leggings all of thick, thick +fur, and a spear in his hand, with which he +every now and then made a dash at a fish,—great +cod fish, such as Mamma had, with +oysters, when there was a dinner-party.</p> + +<p>Into them went his spear, up came the poor +fish, and was strung with some others on a +string the boy carried. Lucy crept up as well +as she could on the slippery ice, and the little +Esquimaux stared at her with a kind of stupid +surprise.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 294px;"> +<img src="images/i007.jpg" width="294" height="400" alt=""Is that the way you get fish?" she asked." title=""Is that the way you get fish?" she asked." /> +<span class="caption">"Is that the way you get fish?" she asked.</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 47.</i></div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>"Is that the way you get fish?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and seals; Father gets them," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what's that, swimming out there?"</p> + +<p>"That's a white bear," he said, coolly; "we +had better get home."</p> + +<p>Lucy thought so indeed; only where was +home? that puzzled her. However, she trotted +along by the side of her companion, and +presently came to what might have been an +enormous snowball, but there was a hole in it. +Yes, it was hollow; and as her companion made +for the opening, she saw more little stout figures +rolled up in furs inside. Then she perceived +that it was a house built up of blocks of snow, +arranged so as to make the shape of a beehive, +all frozen together, and with a window of ice. +It made her shiver to think of going in, but she +thought the white bear might come after her, +and in she went. Even her little head had to +bend under the low doorway, and behold it was +the very closest, stuffiest, if not the hottest place +she had ever been in! There was a kind of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +lamp burning in the hut; that is, a wick was +floating in some oil, but there was no glass, +such as Lucy had been apt to think the chief +part of a lamp, and all round it squatted upon +skins these queer little stumpy figures, dressed +so much alike that there was no knowing the +men from the women, except that the women +had much the biggest boots, and used them +instead of pockets, and they had their babies in +bags of skin upon their backs.</p> + +<p>They seemed to be kind people, for they +made room by their lamp for the little girl, and +asked her where she had been wrecked, and then +one of the women cut off a great lump of raw +something—was it a walrus, with that round +head and big tusks?—and held it up to her; +and when Lucy shook her head and said, "No, +thank you," as civilly as she could, the woman +tore it in two, and handed a lump over her +shoulder to her baby, who began to gnaw it. +Then her first friend, the little boy, hoping to +please her better, offered her some drink. Ah!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +it was oil, just like the oil that was burning in +the lamp!—horrid train-oil from the whales! She +could not help shaking her head, so much that +she woke herself up!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>TYROL.</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Suppose</span> and suppose I could see where that +dear little black chamois horn came from! But +Mother Bunch can't tell me about that I'm +afraid, for she always went by sea, and here's +the Tyrol without one bit of sea near it. It's +just one of the strings to the great knot of +mountains that tie Europe up in the middle. +Oh! what is a mountain like?"</p> + +<p>Then suddenly came on Lucy's ears a loud +blast like a trumpet; another answered it farther +off, another fainter still, and as she started up +she found she was standing on a little shelf of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +green grass with steep slopes of stones and +rock above, below, and around her; and rising +up all round huge, tall hills, their smooth slopes +green and grassy, but in the steep places, all +steep, stern cliff and precipice, and as they were +seen further away they were of a beautiful +purple, like a thunder-cloud. Close to Lucy +grew blue gentians like those in Mamma's +garden, and Alpine roses, and black orchises; +but she did not know how to come down, and +was getting rather frightened when a clear little +voice said, "Little lady, have you lost your +way? Wait till the evening hymn is over, and +I'll come and help you;" and then Lucy stood +and listened, while from all the peaks whence +the horns had been blown there came the strong +sweet sound of an evening hymn, all joining +together, while there arose distant echoes of +others farther away. When it was over, one +shout of "Jodel" echoed from each point, and +then all was still except for the tinkling of a +little cow-bell. "That's the way we wish each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +other good night," said the little girl, as the +shadows mounted high on the tops of the mountains, +leaving them only peaks of rosy light. +"Now come to the châlet, and sister Rose will +give you some milk."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 305px;"> +<img src="images/i008.jpg" width="305" height="400" alt=""Help me, I'm afraid," said Lucy." title=""Help me, I'm afraid," said Lucy." /> +<span class="caption">"Help me, I'm afraid," said Lucy.</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 52.</i></div></div> + +<p>"Help me. I'm afraid," said Lucy.</p> + +<p>"That is nothing," said the mountain maiden +springing up to her like a kid, in spite of her +great heavy shoes; "you should see the places +Father and Seppel climb when they hunt the +chamois."</p> + +<p>"What is your name?" asked Lucy, who much +liked the looks of her little companion in her +broad straw hat, with a bunch of Alpine roses +in it, her thick striped frock, and white body and +sleeves, braced with black ribbon; it was such a +pleasant, fresh, open face, with such rosy cheeks +and kindly blue eyes, that Lucy felt quite +at home.</p> + +<p>"I am little Katherl. This is the first time I +have come up with Rose to the châlet, for I am +big enough to milk the cows now. Ah! do you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +see Ilse, the black one with a white tuft? She +is our leading cow, and she knows it, the darling. +She never lets the others get into dangerous +places they cannot come off; she leads them +home, at a sound of the horn; and when we go +back to the village, she will lead the herd with +a nosegay on the point of each horn, and a +wreath round her neck. The men will come up +and fetch us, Seppel and all; and may be Seppel +will bring the medal for shooting with the rifle."</p> + +<p>"But what do you do up here?"</p> + +<p>"We girls go up for the summer with the +cows to the pastures, the grass is so rich and +good on the mountains, and we make butter and +cheese. Wait, and you shall taste. Sit down on +that stone."</p> + +<p>Lucy was glad to hear this promise, for the +fresh mountain air had made her hungry. Katherl +skipped away towards a house with a projecting +wooden balcony, and deep eaves, beautifully +carved, and came back with a slice of bread and +delicious butter, and a good piece of cheese, all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +on a wooden platter, and a little bowl of new +milk. Lucy thought she had never tasted +anything so nice.</p> + +<p>"And now the gracious little lady will rest a +little while," said Katherl, "whilst I go and help +Rosel to strain the milk."</p> + +<p>So Lucy waited, but she felt so tired with her +scramble that she could not help nodding off +to sleep, though she would have liked very +much to have stayed longer with the dear little +Tyrolese. But we know by this time where +she always found herself when she awoke.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>AFRICA.</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Oh!</span> oh! here is the little dried crocodile +come alive, and opening a horrible great mouth +lined with terrible teeth at her.</p> + +<p>No, he is no longer in the museum; he is in +a broad river, yellow, heavy, and thick with +mud; the borders are crowded with enormous +reeds and rushes; there is no getting through; +no breaking away from him; here he comes; +horrid, horrid beast! Oh, how could Lucy have +been so foolish as to want to travel in Africa +up to the higher parts of the Nile? How will +she ever get back again? He will gobble her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +up, her and Clare, who was trusted to her, and +whatever will Mamma and sister do?</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 315px;"> +<img src="images/i009.jpg" width="315" height="400" alt="Hark! There's a cry, and out jumps a little black figure, with a stout club in his hand." title="Hark! There's a cry, and out jumps a little black figure, with a stout club in his hand." /> +<span class="caption">Hark! There's a cry, and out jumps a little black figure, with a stout club in his hand.</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 58.</i></div></div> + + +<p>Hark! There's a cry, a great shout, and out +jumps a little black figure, with a stout club in +his hand: smash it goes down on the head of +master crocodile; the ugly beast is turning over +on its back and dying. Then Lucy has time +to look at the little Negro, and he has time to +look at her. What a droll figure he is, with his +woolly head and thick lips, the whites of his +eyes and his teeth gleaming so brightly, and his +fat little black person shining all over, as well it +may, for he is rubbed from head to foot with +castor-oil. There it grows on that bush, with +broad, beautiful, folded leaves and red stems +and the pretty grey and black nuts. Lucy only +wishes the negroes would keep it all to polish +themselves with, and not send any home.</p> + +<p>She wants to give the little black fellow some +reward for saving her from the crocodile, and +luckily Clare has on her long necklace of blue +glass beads. She puts it into his hand, and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +twists it round his black wool, and cuts such +dances and capers for joy that Lucy can hardly +stand for laughing; but the sun shines scorching +hot upon her, and she gets under the shade of +a tall date palm, with big leaves all shooting +out together at the top, and fine bunches of +dates below, all fresh and green, not dried like +those Papa sometimes gives her at dessert.</p> + +<p>The little negro, Tojo, asks if she would like +some; he takes her by the hand, and leads +her into a whole cluster of little round mud +huts, telling her that he is Tojo, the king's son; +she is his little sister, and these are all his +mothers! Which is his real mother Lucy cannot +quite make out, for she sees an immense party +of black women, all shiny and polished, with a +great many beads wound round their heads, +necks, ankles, and wrists; and nothing besides +the tiniest short petticoats: and all the fattest +are the smartest; indeed, they have gourds of +milk beside them, and are drinking it all day +long to keep themselves fat. No sooner however<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +is Lucy led in among them, than they all close +round, some singing and dancing, and others +laughing for joy, and crying, "Welcome little +daughter, from the land of spirits!" and then +she finds out that they think she is really Tojo's +little sister, who died ten moons ago, come back +again from the grave as a white spirit.</p> + +<p>Tojo's own mother, a very fat woman indeed, +holds out her arms, as big as bed-posts and +terribly greasy, gives her a dose of sour milk out +of a gourd, makes her lie down with her head +in her lap, and begins to sing to her, till Lucy +goes to sleep; and wakes, very glad to see the +crocodile as brown and hard and immovable as +ever; and that odd round gourd with a little +hole in it, hanging up from the ceiling.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>LAPLANDERS.</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">It</span> shall not be a hot country next time," +said Lucy, "though, after all, the whale oil was +not much worse than the castor oil.—Mother +Bunch, did your whaler always go to Greenland, +and never to any nicer place?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Missie, once we were driven between +foul winds and icebergs up into a fiord near +North Cape, right at midsummer, and I'll never +forget what we saw there."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 291px;"> +<img src="images/i010.jpg" width="291" height="400" alt="And here beside her was a little fellow with a bow and arrows, such as she had never seen before." title="And here beside her was a little fellow with a bow and arrows, such as she had never seen before." /> +<span class="caption">And here beside her was a little fellow with a bow and arrows, such as she had never seen before.</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 64.</i></div></div> + + +<p>Lucy was not likely to forget, either, for she +found herself standing by a narrow inlet of sea,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +as blue and smooth as a lake, and closely shut +in, except on the west, with red rocky hills +and precipices with pine-trees growing on them, +except where the bare rock was too steep, or +where on a somewhat smoother shelf stood a +timbered house, with a farm-yard and barns all +round it. But the odd thing was that the sun +was where she had never seen him before,—quite +in the north, making all the shadows come +the wrong way. But how came the sun to be +visible at all so very late? Ah! she knew it +now; this was Norway, and there was no night +at all!</p> + +<p>And here beside her was a little fellow with +a bow and arrows, such as she had never seen +before, except in the hands of the little Cupids +in the pictures in the drawing-room. Mother +Bunch had said that the little brown boys in +India looked like the bronze Cupid who was on +the mantelshelf, but this little boy was white, or +rather sallow-faced, and well dressed too, in a +tight, round, leather cap, and a dark blue kind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +of shaggy gown with hairy leggings; and what +he was shooting at was some kind of wild-duck +or goose, that came tumbling down heavily with +the arrow right across its neck.</p> + +<p>"There," said the boy, "I'll take that, and sell +it to the Norse bonder's wife up in the house +above there."</p> + +<p>"Who are you, then?" said Lucy.</p> + +<p>"I'm a Lapp. We live on the hills, where the +Norseman has not driven us away, and the +reindeer find their grass in summer and their +moss in winter."</p> + +<p>"Oh! have you got reindeer? I should so +like to see them and to drive in a sledge!"</p> + +<p>The boy, whose name was Peder, laughed, and +said, "You can't go in a sledge except when it +is winter, with snow and ice to go upon, but I'll +soon show you a reindeer."</p> + +<p>Then he led the way, past the deliciously +smelling, whispering pine-woods that sheltered +the Norwegian homestead, starting a little aside +when a great, tall, fair-faced, fair-haired Norse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +farmer came striding along, singing some old +old song, as he carried a heavy log on his +shoulder, past a seater or mountain meadow +where the girls were pasturing their cows, much +like Lucy's friends in the Tirol, out upon the +grey moorland, where there was an odd little +cluster of tents covered with skins, and droll +little, short, stumpy people running about +them.</p> + +<p>Peder gave a curious long cry, put his hand +in his pocket, and pulled out a lump of salt. +Presently, a pair of long horns appeared, then +another, then a whole herd of the deer with big +heads and horns growing a good deal forward. +The salt was held to them, and a rope was +fastened to all their horns that they might stand +still in a line, while the little Lapp women milked +them. Peder went up to one of the women, and +brought back a little cupful for his visitor; it +was all that one deer gave, but it was so rich as +to be almost like drinking cream. He led her +into one of the tents, but it was very smoky,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +and not much cleaner than the Esquimaux. It +is a wonder how Lucy could go to sleep there, +but she did, heartily wishing herself somewhere +else.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>CHINA.</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Was</span> it the scent of the perfumed tea, a present +from an old sailor friend, which Mrs. Bunker was +putting away, or was it the sight of the red +jar ornamented with little black-and-gold men, +with round caps, long petticoats, and pigtails, that +caused Lucy next to open her eyes upon a cane +sofa, with cushions ornamented with figures in +coloured silks? The floor of the room was of +shining inlaid wood; there were beautifully woven +mats all round; stands made of red lacquer +work, and seats of cane and bamboo; and there +was a round window, through which could be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +seen a beautiful garden, full of flowering shrubs +and trees, a clear pond lined with coloured tiles +in the middle, and over the wall the gilded roof +of a pagoda, like an umbrella, only all in ridge +and furrow, and with a little bell at every spoke. +Beyond, were beautifully and fantastically shaped +hills, and a lake below with pleasure boats on +it. It was all wonderfully like being upon a +bowl come to life, and Lucy knew she was in +China, even before there came into the room, +toddling upon her poor little tiny feet, a young +lady with a small yellow face, little slips of eyes +sloping upwards from her flat nose, and back +hair combed up very tight from her face, and +twisted up with flowers and ornaments. She +had ever so many robes on, the edge of one +peeping out below the other, and at the top a +sort of blue China-crape tunic, with very wide +loose sleeves drooping an immense way from +her hands. There was no gathering in at the +waist, and it reached to her knees, where a still +more splendid white silk, embroidered, trailed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +along. She had a big fan in her hand, but when +she saw the visitor she went up to a beautiful +little low table, with an ivory frill round it, +where stood some dainty, delicate tea-cups and +saucers. Into one of these she put a little ball, +about as big as an oak-apple, of tea-leaves; a +maid dressed like herself poured hot water on +it, and handed it on a lacquer-work tray. Lucy +took it, said, "Thank you," and then waited.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 297px;"> +<img src="images/i011.jpg" width="297" height="400" alt=""Is it not good?" said the little hostess." title=""Is it not good?" said the little hostess." /> +<span class="caption">"Is it not good?" said the little hostess.</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 72.</i></div></div> + + +<p>"Is it not good?" said the little hostess.</p> + +<p>"It must be! You are the real tea people," +said Lucy; "but I was waiting for sugar and +milk."</p> + +<p>"That would spoil it," said the Chinese damsel; +"only outer barbarians would think of such +a thing. And, ah! I see you are one! See, +Ki-hi, what monstrous feet!"</p> + +<p>"They are not bigger than your maid's," +said Lucy, rather disgusted. "Why are yours +so small?"</p> + +<p>"Because my mother and nurse took care of +me when I was a baby, and bound them up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +that they might not grow big and ugly like +the poor creatures who have to run about for +their husbands, feed silkworms, and tend ducks!"</p> + +<p>"But shouldn't you like to walk without +almost tumbling down?" said Lucy.</p> + +<p>"No, indeed! Me, a daughter of a mandarin +of the blue button! You are a mere barbarian +to think a lady ought to want to walk. Do +you not see that I never do anything? Look +at my lovely nails."</p> + +<p>"I think they are claws," said Lucy; "do +you never break them?"</p> + +<p>"No; when they are a little longer, I shall +wear silver shields for them, as my mother +does."</p> + +<p>"And do you really never work?"</p> + +<p>"I should think not," said the young lady, +scornfully fanning herself; "I leave that to the +common folk, who are obliged. Come with me +and let me lean on you, and I will give you a +peep through the lattice, that you may see that +my father is far above making his daughter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +work. See, there he sits, with his moustachios +hanging down to his chin, and his tail to his +heels, and the blue dragon embroidered on his +breast, watching while they prepare the hall for +a grand dinner. There will be a stew of puppy +dog, and another of kittens, and birds-nest +soup; and then the players will come and act +a part of the nine-night tragedy, and we will +look through the lattice. Ah! Father is +smoking opium, that he may be serene and in +good spirits! Does it make your head ache? +Ah! that is because you are a mere outer +barbarian. She is asleep, Ki-hi; lay her on the +sofa, and let her sleep. How ugly her pale +hair is, almost as bad as her big feet!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>KAMSCHATKA.</h3> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 293px;"> +<img src="images/i012.jpg" width="293" height="400" alt="Whisking over the snow with all her might and main, muffled up in cloaks and furs." title="Whisking over the snow with all her might and main, muffled up in cloaks and furs." /> +<span class="caption">Whisking over the snow with all her might and main, muffled up in cloaks and furs.</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 79.</i></div></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Lucy</span> had been disappointed of a drive with +the reindeer, and she had been telling Don how +useful his relations were in other places. Behold, +she awoke in a wide plain, where as far as her +eye could reach there was nothing but snow. +The few fir-trees that stood in the distance were +heavily laden; and Lucy herself,—where was +she? Going very fast? Yes, whisking over +the snow with all her might and main, and +muffled up in cloaks and furs, as indeed was +necessary, for her breath froze upon the big +muffler round her throat, so that it seemed to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +be standing up in a wall; and by her side was +a little boy, muffled up quite as close, with a cap +or rather hood, casing his whole head, his hands +gloved in fur up to the elbows, and long fur +boots. He had an immense long whip in his +hand, and was flourishing it, and striking with +it—at what? They were an enormous way off +from him, but they really were very big dogs, +rushing along like the wind, and bearing along +with them—what? Lucy's ambition—a sledge, +a thing without wheels, but gliding along most +rapidly on the hard snow; flying, flying almost +fast enough to take away her breath, and leaving +birds, foxes, and any creature she saw for one +instant, far behind. And—what was very odd—the +young driver had no reins; he shouted at +the dogs and now and then threw a stick at +them, and they quite seemed to understand, +and turned when he wanted them. Lucy +wondered how he or they knew the way, it all +seemed such a waste of snow; and after feeling +at first as if the rapidity of their course made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +her unable to speak, she ventured on gasping +out, "Well, I've been in an express train, but +this beats it! Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"To Petropawlowsky, to change these skins +for whisky and coffee, and rice," answered the +boy.</p> + +<p>"What skins are they?" asked Lucy.</p> + +<p>"Bears'—big brown bears that Father killed +in a cave—and wolves' and those of the little +ermine and sable that we trap. We get much, +much for the white ermine and his black tail. +Father's coming in another sledge with, oh! +such a big pile. Don't you hear his dogs yelp? +We'll win the race yet! Ugh! hoo! hoo! hoo-o-o!—On! +on! lazy ones, on, I say! don't let +the old dogs catch the young!"</p> + +<p>Crack, crack, went the whip; the dogs yelped +with eagerness,—they don't bark, those Northern +dogs; the little Kamschatkadale bawled louder +and louder, and never saw when Lucy rolled off +behind, and was left in the middle of a huge +snowdrift, while he flew on with his load.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> + +<p>Here were his father's dogs overtaking her; +picking her—some one picking her up. No, it +was Don! and here was Mrs. Bunker exclaiming, +"Well, I never thought to find Miss Lucy in no +better a place than on Master's old bearskin!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>THE TURK.</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">What</span> a beautiful long necklace, Mrs. Bunker! +May I have it for Lonicera?"</p> + +<p>"You may play with it while you are here, +Missie, if you'll take care not to break the +string, but it is too curious for you to take +home and lose. It is what they call a Turkish +rosary; they say it is made of rose-leaves +reduced to a paste and squeezed ever so hard +together, and that the poor ladies that are shut +up in the harems have little or nothing to do +but to run them through their fingers."</p> + +<p>"It has a very nice smell," said Lucy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +examining the dark brown beads, which hung +rather loosely on their string, and letting them +fall one by one through her hands, till of course +that happened which she was hoping for: she +woke on a long low sofa, in the midst of a +room all carpet and cushions, in bright colours +and gorgeous patterns, curling about with no +particular meaning; and with a window of +rich brass lattice-work.</p> + +<p>And by her side there was an odd bubbling, +that put her in mind of blowing the soap-suds +into a honey-comb when preparing them for +bubble blowing; but when she looked round +she saw something very unlike the long pipes +her brother called "churchwardens," or the +basin of soap-suds. There was a beautifully +shaped glass bottle, and into it went a long, +long twisting tube, like a snake coiled on the +floor, and the other end of the serpent, instead +of a head, had an amber mouth-piece which +went between a pair of lips. Lucy knew it for +a hubble-bubble or narghilhe, and saw that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +lips were in a brown face, with big black eyes, +round which dark bluish circles were drawn. +The jet-black hair was carefully braided with +jewels, and over it was thrown a great rose-coloured +gauze veil; there was a loose purple +satin sort of pelisse over a white silk embroidered +vest, tied in with a sash, striped with all +manner of colours, also immense wide white +muslin trousers, out of which peeped a pair of +brown bare feet, which, however, had a splendid +pair of slippers curled up at the toes.</p> + +<p>The owner seemed to be very little older +than Lucy, and sat gravely looking at her for +a little while, then clapped her hands. A black +woman came, and the young Turkish maiden +said, "Bring coffee for the little Frank lady."</p> + +<p>So a tiny table of mother-of-pearl was brought, +and on it some exquisite little striped porcelain +cups, standing not in saucers, but in silver +filigree cups into which they exactly fitted. +Lucy remembered her Chinese experience, and +did not venture to ask for milk or sugar, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +she found that the real Turkish coffee was so +pure and delicate that she could bear to drink +it without.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 288px;"> +<img src="images/i013.jpg" width="288" height="400" alt=""Married! Oh, no, you are joking."" title=""Married! Oh, no, you are joking."" /> +<span class="caption">"Married! Oh, no, you are joking."</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 86.</i></div></div> + + +<p>"Where are your jewels?" then asked the +little hostess.</p> + +<p>"I'm not old enough to have any?"</p> + +<p>"How old are you?"</p> + +<p>"Nine."</p> + +<p>"Nine! I'm only ten, and I shall be married +next week——"</p> + +<p>"Married! Oh, no, you are joking."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I shall. Selim Bey has paid my father +the dowry for me, and I shall be taken to his +house next week."</p> + +<p>"And I suppose you like him very much."</p> + +<p>"He looks big and tall," said the child with +exultation. "I saw him riding when I went +with my mother to the Sweet Waters. 'Amina,' +she said, 'there is your lord, in the Frankish +coat—with the white horse.'"</p> + +<p>"Have you not talked to him?"</p> + +<p>"What should I do that for?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Aunt Bessie used to like to talk to nobody +but Uncle Frank before they were married."</p> + +<p>"I shall talk enough when I am married. I +shall make him give me plenty of sweetmeats, +and a carriage with two handsome bullocks, and +the biggest Nubian black slave in the market +to drive me to Sweet Waters, in a thin blue +veil, with all my jewels on. Father says that +Selim Bey will give me everything, and a Frank +governess. What is a governess? Is it anything +like the little gold case you have round your neck?"</p> + +<p>"My locket with Mamma's hair? Oh, no, no," +said Lucy, laughing; "a governess is a lady to +teach you."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to learn any more," said Amina, +much disgusted; "I shall tell him I can make a +pillau, and dry sweetmeats, and roll rose-leaves. +What should I learn for?"</p> + +<p>"Should you not like to read and write?"</p> + +<p>"Teaching is only meant for men. They have +got to read the Koran, but it is all ugly letters; +I won't learn to read."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You don't know how nice it is to read +stories, and all about different countries. Ah! +I wish I was in the schoolroom, at home, and +I would show you how pleasant it is."</p> + +<p>And Lucy seemed to have her wish all at +once, for she and Amina stood in her own +schoolroom, but with no one else there. The +first thing Amina did was to scream, "Oh, +what shocking windows! even men can see +in; shut them up." She rolled herself up in +her veil, and Lucy could only satisfy her by +pulling down all the blinds, after which she +ventured to look about a little. "What have +you to sit on?" she asked, with great disgust.</p> + +<p>"Chairs and stools," said Lucy, laughing and +showing them.</p> + +<p>"These little tables with four legs! How +can you sit on them?"</p> + +<p>Lucy sat down and showed her. "That is +not sitting," she said, and tried to curl herself +up cross-legged; "I can't dangle down my legs."</p> + +<p>"Our governess always makes us write out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +a tense of a French verb if she sees us sitting +with our legs crossed," said Lucy, laughing +with much amusement at Amina's attempts to +wriggle herself up on the stool whence she +nearly fell.</p> + +<p>"Ah, I will never have a governess!" cried +Amina. "I will cry, and cry, and give Selim +Bey no rest till he promises to let me alone. +What a dreadful place this is! Where can you +sleep?"</p> + +<p>"In bed, to be sure" said Lucy.</p> + +<p>"I see no cushions to lie on."</p> + +<p>"No; we have bedrooms, and beds there. +We should not think of taking off our clothes +here."</p> + +<p>"What should you undress for?"</p> + +<p>"To sleep, of course."</p> + +<p>"How horrible! We sleep in all our clothes +wherever we like to lie down. We never undress +but for the bath. Do you go to the bath?"</p> + +<p>"I have a bath every morning, when I get +up, in my own room."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 280px;"> +<img src="images/i014.jpg" width="280" height="400" alt=""I will show you where you live. This is Constantinople."" title=""I will show you where you live. This is Constantinople."" /> +<span class="caption">"I will show you where you live. This is Constantinople."</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 92.</i></div></div> + + +<p>"Bathe at home! Then you never see your +friends? We meet at the bath, and talk and +play and laugh."</p> + +<p>"Meet bathing! No, indeed! We meet at +home, and out of doors," said Lucy; "my friend +Annie and I walk together."</p> + +<p>"Walk together! what, in the street? Shocking! +You cannot be a lady."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I am," said Lucy, colouring up. +"My Papa is a gentleman. And see how many +books we have, and how much we have to +learn! French, and music, and sums, and +grammar, and history, and geography."</p> + +<p>"I <i>will</i> not be a Frank! No, no! I will +not learn," said the alarmed Amina on hearing +this catalogue poured forth.</p> + +<p>"Geography is very nice," said Lucy; "here +are our maps. I will show you where you live. +This is Constantinople."</p> + +<p>"I live at Stamboul," said Amina, scornfully.</p> + +<p>"There is Stamboul in little letters below—look."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That Stamboul! The Frank girl is false; +Stamboul is a large, large, beautiful place; not +a little black speck. I can see it from my +lattice. White houses and mosques in the sun, +and the blue Golden Horn, with the little +caiques gliding."</p> + +<p>Before Lucy could explain, the door opened, +and one of her brothers put in his head. At +once Amina began to scream and roll herself +in the window curtain. "A man in the harem! +Oh! oh! oh! Were there no slippers at the +door?" And her screaming brought Lucy awake +at Uncle Joe's again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>SWITZERLAND.</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">I liked</span> the mountain girl best of all," +thought Lucy. "I wonder whether I shall ever +get among the mountains again. There's a +great stick in the corner that Uncle Joe calls +his alpenstock. I'll go and read the names +upon it. They are all the mountains where +he has used it."</p> + +<p>She read Mount Blanc, Mount Cenis, the +Wengern, and so on; and of course as she +read and sung them over to herself, they lulled +her off into her wonderful dreams, and brought +her this time into a meadow, steep and sloping, +but full of flowers, the loveliest flowers, of all +kinds, growing among the long grass that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +waved over them. The fresh clear air was so +delicious that she almost hoped she was gone +back to her dear Tyrol; but the hills were not +the same. She saw upon the slope quantities +of cows, goats, and sheep, feeding just as on +the Tyrolese Alps; but beyond was a dark row +of pines, and up above, in the sky as it were, +rose all round great sharp points—like clouds +for their whiteness, but not in their straight +jagged outlines; and here and there the deep +grey clefts between seemed to spread into +white rivers, or over the ruddy purple of the +half-distance came sharp white lines darting +downwards.</p> + +<p>As she sat up in the grass and looked about +her, a bark startled her. A dog began to +growl, bark, and dance round her, so that she +would have been much frightened if the next +moment a voice had not called him off—"Fie, +Brilliant, down; let the little girl alone. <i>Fi +donc.</i> He is good, Mademoiselle, never fear. +He helps me keep the cows."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 284px;"> +<img src="images/i015.jpg" width="284" height="400" alt=""I cut it out with my knife, all myself."" title=""I cut it out with my knife, all myself."" /> +<span class="caption">"I cut it out with my knife, all myself."</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 98.</i></div></div> + + + +<p>"Who are you, then?"</p> + +<p>"I am Maurice, the little herd-boy. I live +with my grandmother, and work for her."</p> + +<p>"What, in keeping cows?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and look here!"</p> + +<p>"O the delicious little cottage! It has eaves, +and windows, and balconies, and a door, and +little cows and sheep, and men and women, all +in pretty white wood! You did not make it, +Maurice?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, truly, I did; I cut it out with my +knife, all myself."</p> + +<p>"How clever you must be. And what shall +you do with it?"</p> + +<p>"I shall watch for a carriage with ladies +winding up that long road; and then I shall +stand and take off my hat, and hold out my +cottage. Perhaps they will buy it, and then +I shall have enough to get grandmother a +warm gown for the winter. When I grow +bigger I will be a guide, like my father."</p> + +<p>"A guide?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, to lead travellers up to the mountain-tops. +There is nowhere you English will not +go. The harder a mountain is to climb, the +more bent you are on going up. And oh, I +shall love it too! There are the great glaciers, +the broad streams of ice that fill up the furrows +of the mountains, with the crevasses so blue +and beautiful and cruel. It was in one of them +my father was swallowed up."</p> + +<p>"Ah! then how can you love them?" said +Lucy.</p> + +<p>"Because they are so grand and so beautiful," +said Maurice. "No other place has the +like, and they make one's heart swell with +wonder, and joy in the God who made them. +And it is only the brave who dare to climb +them!"</p> + +<p>And Maurice's eyes sparkled, and Lucy +looked at the clear, stern glory of the +mountain points, and felt as if she understood +him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>THE COSSACK.</h3> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 305px;"> +<img src="images/i016.jpg" width="305" height="400" alt="While he jerked out his arms and legs as if they were pulled by strings." title="While he jerked out his arms and legs as if they were pulled by strings." /> +<span class="caption">While he jerked out his arms and legs as if they were pulled by strings.</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 102.</i></div></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Caper</span>, caper; dance, dance. What a wonderful +dance it was, just as if the little fellow +had been made of cork, so high did he bound +the moment he touched the ground; while he +jerked out his arms and legs as if they were +pulled by strings, like the Marionettes that +had once performed in the front of the window. +Only, his face was all fun and life, and he did +look so proud and delighted to show what he +could do; and it was all in clear, fresh, open +air, the whole extent covered with short green +grass, upon which were grazing herds of small +lean horses, and flocks of sheep without tails,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +but with their wool puffed out behind into +a sort of bustle or <i>panier</i>. There was a cluster +of clean, white-looking houses in the distance; +and Lucy knew that she was in the great plains +called the Steppes, that lie between the rivers +Volga and Don, and may be either in Europe +or Asia, according as you look at an old map +or a new.</p> + +<p>"Do you live there?" she asked, by way of +beginning the conversation.</p> + +<p>"Yes; my father is the hetman of the Stantitza, +and these are my holidays. I go to school at +Tcherkask most part of the year."</p> + +<p>"Tcherkask! Oh, what a funny name!"</p> + +<p>"And you would think it a funny town if +you were there. It is built on a great bog by +the side of the river Volga; all the houses stand +on piles of timber, and in the spring the streets +are full of water, and one has to sail about in +boats."</p> + +<p>"Oh! that must be delicious."</p> + +<p>"I don't like it as much as coming home and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +riding. See!" and as he whistled, one of the +horses came whinnying up, and put his nose +over the boy's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Good fellow! But your horses are thin; +they look little."</p> + +<p>"Little!" cried the young Cossack. "Why, +do you know what our little horses can do? +There are not many armies in Europe that they +have not ridden down, at one time or another. +Why, the church at Tcherkask is hung all round +with Colours we have taken from our enemies. +There's the Swede—didn't Charles XII. get the +worst of it when he came in his big boots after +the Cossack?—ay, and the Turk, and the Austrian, +and the German, and the French? Ah! doesn't +my grandfather tell how he rode his good little +horse all the way from the Volga to the Seine, +and the good Czar Alexander himself gave him +the medal with 'Not unto us, but unto Thy +Name be the praise'? Our father the Czar +does not think so little of us and our horses +as you do, young lady."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," said Lucy; "I did not +know what your horses could do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you did not! That is some excuse for +you. I'll show you."</p> + +<p>And in one moment he was on the back of +his little horse, leaning down on its neck, and +galloping off over the green plain like the wind; +but it seemed to Lucy as if she had only just +watched him out of sight on one side before +he was close to her on the other, having whirled +round and cantered close up to her while she +was looking the other way. "Come up with +me," he said; and in one moment she had been +swept up before him on the little horse's neck, +and was flying so wildly over the Steppes that +her breath and sense failed her, and she knew +no more till she was safe by Mrs. Bunker's +fireside again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>SPAIN.</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Suppose</span> and suppose I go to sleep again; +what should I like to see next? A sunny +place, I think, where there is sea to look at. +Shall it be Spain, and shall it be among the +poor people? Well, I think I should like to be +where there is a little lady girl. I hope they +are not all as lazy and conceited as the Chinese +and the Turk."</p> + +<p>So Lucy awoke in a large cool room with a +marble floor and heavy curtains, but with little +furniture except one table, and a row of chairs +ranged along the wall. It had two windows, one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +looking out into a garden,—such a garden!—orange-trees +with shining leaves and green and +golden fruit and white flowers, and jasmines, +and great lilies standing round about a marble +court, in the midst of which was a basin of red +marble, where a fountain was playing, making +a delicious splashing; and out beyond these +sparkled in the sun the loveliest and most +delicious of blue seas—the same blue sea, indeed, +that Lucy had seen in her Italian visit.</p> + +<p>That window was empty; but the other, which +looked out into the street, had cushions laid on +the sill, an open-work stone ledge beyond, and +little looking-glasses on either side; and leaning +over this sill there was seated a little maiden +in a white frock, but with a black lace veil +fastened by a rose into her jet-black hair, and +the daintiest, prettiest-shaped little feet imaginable +in white satin shoes, which could be plainly +seen as she knelt on the window-seat.</p> + +<p>"What are you looking at?" asked Lucy, +coming to her side.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 309px;"> +<img src="images/i017.jpg" width="309" height="400" alt=""See now," cried the Spaniard, "stand there. Ah! have you no castanets?"" title=""See now," cried the Spaniard, "stand there. Ah! have you no castanets?"" /> +<span class="caption">"See now," cried the Spaniard, "stand there. Ah! have you no castanets?"</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 110.</i></div></div> + + + +<p>"I'm watching for the procession. Then I +shall go to church with Mamma. Look! That +way we shall see it come; these two mirrors +reflect everything up and down the street."</p> + +<p>"Are you dressed for church?" asked Lucy. +"You have no hat on."</p> + +<p>"Where does your grace come from not to +know that a mantilla is what is fit for church? +Mamma is being dressed in her black silk and +her black mantilla."</p> + +<p>"And your shoes?"</p> + +<p>"I could not wear great, coarse, hard shoes," +said the little Doña Iñes; "it would spoil my +feet. Ah! I shall have time to show the Senorita +what I can do. Can your grace dance?"</p> + +<p>"I danced with Uncle Joe at our last Christmas +party," said Lucy, with great dignity.</p> + +<p>"See now," cried the Spaniard; "stand there. +Ah! have you no castanets?" and she quickly +took out two very small ivory shells or bowls, +each pair fastened together by a loop, through +which she passed her thumb so that the little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +spoons hung on her palm, and she could snap +them together with her fingers.</p> + +<p>Then she began to dance round Lucy in the +most graceful swimming way, now rising, now +falling, and cracking her castanets together at +intervals. Lucy tried to do the same, but her +limbs seemed like a wooden doll's compared +with the suppleness and ease of Iñes. She +made sharp corners and angles, where the +Spaniard floated so like a sea-bird that it was +like seeing her fly or float rather than merely +dance, till at last the very watching her rendered +Lucy drowsy and dizzy, and as the church bells +began to ring, and the chant of the procession +to sound, she lost all sense of being in sunny +Malaga, the home of grapes.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>GERMANY.</h3> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 292px;"> +<img src="images/i018.jpg" width="292" height="400" alt=""What are you about, little boy?"" title=""What are you about, little boy?"" /> +<span class="caption">"What are you about, little boy?"</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 114.</i></div></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was a great murmur and buzz of +learning lessons; rows upon rows of little boys +were sitting before desks, studying; very few +heads looked up as Lucy found herself walking +round the room—a large clean room, with maps +hanging on the walls, but hot and weary-feeling, +because there were no windows open and so +little fresh air.</p> + +<p>"What are you about, little boy?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I am learning my verb," he said; "<i>moneo</i>, +<i>mones</i>, <i>monet</i>."</p> + +<p>Lucy waited no longer, but moved off to +another desk. "And what are you doing?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am writing my analysis."</p> + +<p>Lucy did not know what an analysis was, so +she went a little further. "What are you doing +here?" she said timidly, for these were somewhat +bigger boys.</p> + +<p>"We are drawing up an essay on the +individuality of self."</p> + +<p>That was enough to frighten any one away, +and Lucy betook herself to some quite little +boys, with fat rosy faces and light hair. "Are +you busy, too?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes; we are learning the chief cities of +the Fatherland."</p> + +<p>Lucy felt like the little boy in the fable, who +could not get either the dog, or the bird, or the +bee, to play with him.</p> + +<p>"When do you play?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"We have an hour's interval after dinner, and +another at supper-time, but then we prepare our +work for the morrow," said one of the boys, +looking up well satisfied.</p> + +<p>"Work! work! Are you always at work?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +exclaimed Lucy; "I only learn from nine to +half-past twelve, and half an hour to get my +lessons in the afternoon."</p> + +<p>"You are a maiden," said the little boy with +civil superiority; "your brothers learn more +hours."</p> + +<p>"More; yes, but not so many as you do. +They play from twelve till half-past two, and +have two half-holidays in the week."</p> + +<p>"So, you are not industrious. We are. That +is the reason why we can all act together, and +think together, so much better than any others; +and we all stand as one irresistible power, the +United Germany."</p> + +<p>Lucy gave a little gasp! it was all so very +wise.</p> + +<p>"May I see your sisters?" she said.</p> + +<p>The little sisters, Gretchens and Kätchens +were learning away almost as hard as the +Hermanns and Fritzes, but the bigger sisters +had what Lucy thought a better time of it. One +of them was helping in the kitchen, and another<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +in the ironing; but then they had their books +and their music, and in the evening all the +families came out into the pleasure gardens, and +had little tables with coffee before them, and +the mammas knitted, and the papas smoked, +and the young ladies listened to the band. On +the whole, Lucy thought she should not mind +living in Germany, if they would not do so +many lessons.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>PARIS IN THE SIEGE.</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">And</span> Uncle Joe is in France, where the fathers +and brothers of those little Prussian boys have +been fighting. Suppose and suppose I could +see it."</p> + +<p>There was a thunder and a whizzing in the air +and a sharp rattling noise besides; a strange, +damp, unwholesome smell too, mixed with that +of gunpowder; and when Lucy looked up, she +found herself down some steps in a dark, dull, +vaulted-looking place, lined with stone, however, +and open to the street above. A little lamp +was burning in a corner, piles of straw and bits<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +of furniture were lying about, and upon one of +the bundles of straw sat a little rough-haired +girl.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 289px;"> +<img src="images/i019.jpg" width="289" height="400" alt=""Ah! Mademoiselle, good morning. Are you come here to take shelter from the shells?"" title=""Ah! Mademoiselle, good morning. Are you come here to take shelter from the shells?"" /> +<span class="caption">"Ah! Mademoiselle, good morning. Are you come here to take shelter from the shells?"</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 123.</i></div></div> + + +<p>"Ah! Mademoiselle, good morning," she said. +"Are you come here to take shelter from the +shells? The battery is firing now; I do not +think Mamma will come home till it slackens a +little. She is gone to the distribution of meat, +to get a piece of horse for my brother, who is +weak after his wounds. I wish I could offer +you something, but we have nothing but water, +and it is not even sugared."</p> + +<p>"Do you live down here?" asked Lucy, looking +round at the dreary place with wonder.</p> + +<p>"Not always. We used to have a pretty little +house up over, but the cruel shells came crashing in, +and flew into pieces, tearing everything to splinters, +and we are only safe from them down here. +Ah, if I could only have shown you Mamma's +pretty room! but there is a great hole in the +floor now, and the ceiling is all tumbling down, +and the table broken."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But why do you stay here?"</p> + +<p>"Mamma and Emily say it is all the same. +We are as safe in our cellar as we could be +anywhere, and we should have to pay elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"Then you cannot get out of Paris?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, while the Prussians are all round us, +and shut us in. My brothers are all in the +Garde Mobile, and, you see, so is my doll. +Every one must be a soldier now. My dear +Adolphe, hold yourself straight" (and there the +doll certainly showed himself perfectly drilled +and disciplined). "March—right foot forward—left +foot forward." But in this movement, as +may be well supposed, little Coralie had to help +her recruit a good deal.</p> + +<p>Lucy was surprised. "So you can play even +in this dreadful place?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! What's the use of crying and +wearying oneself? I do not mind as long as +they leave me my kitten, my dear little Minette."</p> + +<p>"Oh! what a pretty long-haired kitten! but +how small and thin!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, truly, the poor Minette! The cruel +people ate her mother, and there is no milk—no +milk, and my poor Minette is almost starved, +though I give her bits of my bread and soup; +but the bread is only bran and sawdust, and +she likes it no more than I."</p> + +<p>"Ate up her mother!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. She was a superb Cyprus cat, all grey; +but, alas I one day she took a walk in the street, +and they caught her, and then indeed it was all +over with her. I only hope Minette will not +get out, but she is so lean that they would find +little but bones and fur."</p> + +<p>"Ah, how I wish I could take you and her +home to Uncle Joe, and give you both good +bread and milk! Take my hand, and shut +your eyes, and we will suppose and suppose +very hard, and, perhaps, you will come there +with me. Paris is not so very far off."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3>THE AMERICAN GUEST.</h3> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 301px;"> +<img src="images/i020.jpg" width="301" height="400" alt=""What can that be, coming at this time of day?"" title=""What can that be, coming at this time of day?"" /> +<span class="caption">"What can that be, coming at this time of day?"</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 126.</i></div></div> + + + +<p><span class="smcap">No</span>; supposing very hard did not bring poor +little French Coralie home with Lucy; but +something almost as wonderful happened. Just +at the time in the afternoon, blind man's holiday, +when Lucy had been used to ride off on her +dream to visit some wonderful place, there came +a knock at the front door; a quite real substantial +English knock and ring, that did not sound +at all like any of the strange noise of the strange +worlds that she had lately been hearing, but had +the real tinkle of Uncle Joe's own bell.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 292px;"> +<img src="images/i021.jpg" width="292" height="400" alt=""Good morning. Where do you come from?"" title=""Good morning. Where do you come from?"" /> +<span class="caption">"Good morning. Where do you come from?"</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 131.</i></div></div> + + + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Bunker, "what can that +be, coming at this time of day? It can never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +be the doctor coming home without sending +orders! Don't you be running out, Miss Lucy; +there'll be a draught of cold right in."</p> + +<p>Lucy stood still; very anxious, and wondering +whether she should see anything alive, or one of +her visitors from various countries.</p> + +<p>"There is a letter from Mr. Seaman," said a +brisk young voice, that would have been very +pleasant if it had not gone a little through the +nose; and past Mrs. Bunker there walked into +the full light a little boy, a year or two older +than Lucy, holding out one hand as he saw her +and taking off his hat with the other. "Good +morning," he said, quite at his ease; "is this +where you live?"</p> + +<p>"Good morning," returned Lucy, though it +was not morning at all; "where do you come +from?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm from Paris last; but when I'm at +home, I'm at Boston. I am Leonidas Saunders, +of the great American Republic."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then you are not real, after all?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Real! I should hope I was a genuine +article."</p> + +<p>"Well, I was in hopes that you were real, +only you say you come from a strange country, +like the rest of them, and yet you look just +like an English boy."</p> + +<p>"Of course I do! my great grandfather came +from England," said Leonidas; "we all speak +English as well, or better, than you do in the +old country."</p> + +<p>"I can't understand it!" said Lucy; "did +you come like other people, by the train, not +like the children in my dreams?"</p> + +<p>And then Leonidas explained all about it to +her: how his father had brought him last year +to Europe and had put him to school at Paris; +but when the war broke out, and most of the +stranger scholars were taken away, no orders +came about him, because his father was a +merchant and was away from home, so that no +one ever knew whether the letters had reached +him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> + +<p>So Leonidas had gone on at school without +many tasks to learn, to be sure, but not very +comfortable: it was so cold, and there was no +wood to burn; and he disliked eating horses +and cats and rats, quite as much as Coralie did, +though he was not in a part of the town where +so many shells came in.</p> + +<p>At last, when Lucy's uncle and some other +good gentlemen with the red cross on their +sleeves, obtained leave to go and take some +relief to the poor sick people in the hospitals, +the people Leonidas was with told them that +he was a little American left behind. Mr. +Seaman, which was Uncle Joe's name, went to +see about him, and found that he had once +known his father. So, after a great deal of +trouble, it had been managed that the boy +should be allowed to leave the town. He had +been driven in an omnibus, he told Lucy, with +some more Americans and English, and with flags +with stars and stripes or else Union Jacks all +over it; and whenever they came to a French<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +sentry, or afterwards to a Prussian, they were +stopped till he called his corporal, who looked +at their papers and let them go on. Mr. +Seaman had taken charge of Leonidas, and +given him the best dinner he had eaten for a +long time, but as he was going to Blois to +other hospitals, he could not keep the boy +with him; so he had put him in charge of a +friend who was going to London, to send him +down to Mrs. Bunker.</p> + +<p>Fear of Lucy's rash was pretty well over +now, and she was to go home in a day or two; +so the children were allowed to be together, +and they enjoyed it very much. Lucy told +about her dreams, and Leonidas had a good +deal to tell of what he had really seen on his +travels. They wished very much that they +could both see one of these wonderful dreams +together, only—what should it be?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3>THE DREAM OF ALL NATIONS.</h3> + + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 296px;"> +<img src="images/i022.jpg" width="296" height="400" alt="Oh! such a din!" title="Oh! such a din!" /> +<span class="caption">Oh! such a din!</span> +<br /><div class='right'><i>Page 137.</i></div></div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">What</span> should it be? She thought of Arabs +with their tents and horses, and Leonidas told +her of Red Indians with their war-paint, and +little Negroes dancing round the sugar-boiling, +till her head began quite to swim and her ears +to buzz; and all the children she had seen and +she had not seen seemed to come round her, +and join hands and dance. Oh, such a din! +A little Highlander in his tartans stood on a +whisky-barrel in the middle, making his bagpipes +squeal away; a Chinese with a bald head and +long pigtail beat a gong, and capered with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +solemn face; a Norwegian herd-boy blew a +monstrous bark cow-horn; an Indian juggler +twisted snakes round his neck to the sound of +the tom-tom; and Lucy found herself and +Leonidas whirling round with a young Dutch +planter between them, and an Indian with a +crown of feathers upon the other side of her.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she seemed to herself to cry, "what +are you doing? how do you all come here?"</p> + +<p>"We are from all the nations who are friends +and brethren," said the voices; "we all bring +our stores: the sugar, rice, and cotton of the +West; the silk and coffee and spices of the +East; the tea of China; the furs of the North: +it all is exchanged from one to the other, and +should teach us to be all brethren, since we +cannot thrive one without the other."</p> + +<p>"It all comes to our country, because we are +clever to work it up, and send it out to be +used in its own homes," said the Highlander; +"it is English and Scotch machines that weave +your cottons, ay, and make your tools."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No; it is America that beats you all," cried +Leonidas; "what had you to do, but to sit +down and starve, when we sent you no cotton?"</p> + +<p>"If you send cotton, 'tis we that weave it," +cried the Scot.</p> + +<p>Lucy was almost afraid they would come to +blows over which was the greatest and most +skilful country. "It cannot be buying and selling +that make nations love one another, and +be peaceful," she thought. "Is it being learned +and wise?"</p> + +<p>"But the Prussian boys are studious and +wise, and the French are clever and skilful, +and yet they have that dreadful war: I wonder +what it is that would make and keep all these +countries friends!"</p> + +<p>And then there came an echo back to little +Lucy: "For out of Zion shall go forth the +Law, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. +And He shall judge among the nations, and +shall rebuke many people; and they shall beat +their swords into ploughshares, and their spears<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +into pruning-hooks: nations shall not lift up sword +against nation, neither shall they war any +more."</p> + +<p>Yes; the more they learn and keep the law +of the Lord, the less there will be of those +wars. To heed the true law of the Lord will +do more for peace and oneness than all the +cleverness in book-learning, or all the skilful +manufactures in the world.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> See the <i>Net</i>, June 1, 1867.</p></div> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ad_1" id="Page_ad_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE STANDARD SCHOOL LIBRARY.</h2> + +<h3>(Each Volume, cloth, 50 cents. Sold singly or in sets.)</h3> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>BAILEY. LESSONS WITH PLANTS.</b> Suggestions for Seeing and +Interpreting Some of the Common Forms of Vegetation. By +L. H. Bailey. 12mo. Illustrated. xxxi + 491 pages.</div> + +<p>This volume is the outgrowth of "observation lessons." The +book is based upon the idea that the proper way to begin the study +of plants is by means of plants instead of formal ideals or definitions. +Instead of a definition as a model telling what is to be +seen, the plant shows what there is to be seen, and the definition +follows.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>BARNES. YANKEE SHIPS AND YANKEE SAILORS.</b> Tales of +1812. By James Barnes. 12mo. Illustrated. xiii + 281 +pages.</div> + +<p>Fourteen spirited tales of the gallant defenders of the <i>Chesapeake</i>, +the <i>Wasp</i>, the <i>Vixen</i>, <i>Old Ironsides</i>, and other heroes of +the Naval War of 1812.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>BELLAMY. THE WONDER CHILDREN.</b> By Charles J. +Bellamy. 12mo. Illustrated.</div> + +<p>Nine old-fashioned fairy stories in a modern setting.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>BLACK. THE PRACTICE OF SELF-CULTURE.</b> By Hugh +Black. 12mo. vii + 262 pages.</div> + +<p>Nine essays on culture considered in its broadest sense. The +title is justified not so much from the point of view of giving +many details for self-culture, as of giving an impulse to practice.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>BONSAL. THE GOLDEN HORSESHOE.</b> Extracts from the letters +of Captain H. L. Herndon of the 21st U. S. Infantry, on +duty in the Philippine Islands, and Lieutenant Lawrence +Gill, A.D.C. to the Military Governor of Puerto Rico. With +a postscript by J. Sherman, Private, Co. D, 21st Infantry. +Edited by Stephen Bonsal. 12mo. xi + 316 pages.</div> + +<p>These letters throw much light on our recent history. The +story of our "Expansion" is well told, and the problems +which are its outgrowth are treated with clearness and insight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ad_2" id="Page_ad_2">[2]</a></span><br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>BUCK. BOY'S SELF-GOVERNING CLUBS.</b> By Winifred Buck. +16mo. x + 218 pages.</div> + +<p>The history of self-governing clubs, with directions for their +organization and management. The author has had many years' +experience as organizer and adviser of self-governing clubs in New +York City and the vicinity.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>CARROLL. ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND.</b> By +Lewis Carroll. 12mo. Illustrated. xiv + 192 pages.</div> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>CARROLL. THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS AND WHAT +ALICE FOUND THERE.</b> By Lewis Carroll. 12mo. Illustrated. +xv + 224 pages.</div> + +<p>The authorized edition of these children's classics. They have +recently been reprinted from new type and new cuts made from +the original wood blocks.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>CHURCH. THE STORY OF THE ILIAD.</b> By Rev. A. J. Church. +vii + 314 pages.</div> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>CHURCH. THE STORY OF THE ODYSSEY.</b> By Rev. A. J. +Church. vii + 306 pages.</div> + +<p>The two great epics are retold in prose by one of the best of +story-tellers. The Greek atmosphere is remarkably well preserved.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>CRADDOCK. THE STORY OF OLD FORT LOUDON.</b> By +Charles Egbert Craddock. 12mo. Illustrated. v + 409 pages.</div> + +<p>A story of pioneer life in Tennessee at the time of the Cherokee +uprising in 1760. The frontier fort serves as a background to this +picture of Indian craft and guile and pioneer pleasures and hardships.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>CROCKETT. RED CAP TALES.</b> By S. R. Crockett. 8vo. +Illustrated. xii + 413 pages.</div> + +<p>The volume consists of a number of tales told in succession +from four of Scott's novels—"Waverley," "Guy Mannering," +"Rob Roy," and "The Antiquary"; with a break here and there +while the children to whom they are told discuss the story just +told from their own point of view. No better introduction to +Scott's novels could be imagined or contrived. Half a dozen or +more tales are given from each book.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ad_3" id="Page_ad_3">[3]</a></span><br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>DIX. A LITTLE CAPTIVE LAD.</b> By Beulah Marie Dix. 12mo. +Illustrated. vii + 286 pages.</div> + +<p>The story is laid in the time of Cromwell, and the captive lad +is a cavalier, full of the pride of his caste. The plot develops +around the child's relations to his Puritan relatives. It is a well-told +story, with plenty of action, and is a faithful picture of the +times.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>EGGLESTON. SOUTHERN SOLDIER STORIES.</b> By George +Cary Eggleston. 12mo. Illustrated. xi + 251 pages.</div> + +<p>Forty-seven stories illustrating the heroism of those brave +Americans who fought on the losing side in the Civil War. Humor +and pathos are found side by side in these pages which bear evidence +of absolute truth.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>ELSON. SIDE LIGHTS ON AMERICAN HISTORY.</b></div> + +<p>This volume takes a contemporary view of the leading events in +the history of the country from the period of the Declaration of +Independence to the close of the Spanish-American War. The +result is a very valuable series of studies in many respects more +interesting and informing than consecutive history.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>GAYE. THE GREAT WORLD'S FARM.</b> Some Account of +Nature's Crops and How they are Sown. By Selina Gaye. +12mo. Illustrated. xii + 365 pages.</div> + +<p>A readable account of plants and how they live and grow. It +is as free as possible from technicalities and well adapted to +young people.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>GREENE. PICKETT'S GAP.</b> By Homer Greene. 12mo. Illustrated. +vii + 288 pages.</div> + +<p>A story of American life and character illustrated in the personal +heroism and manliness of an American boy. It is well told, +and the lessons in morals and character are such as will appeal to +every honest instinct.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>HAPGOOD. ABRAHAM LINCOLN.</b> By Norman Hapgood. +12mo. Illustrated. xiii + 433 pages.</div> + +<p>This is one of the best one-volume biographies of Lincoln, and a +faithful picture of the strong character of the great President, not +only when he was at the head of the nation, but also as a boy and +a young man, making his way in the world.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ad_4" id="Page_ad_4">[4]</a></span><br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>HAPGOOD. GEORGE WASHINGTON.</b> By Norman Hapgood. +12mo. Illustrated. xi + 419 pages.</div> + +<p>Not the semi-mythical Washington of some biographers, but a +clear, comprehensive account of the man as he really appeared in +camp, in the field, in the councils of his country, at home, and in +society.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>HOLDEN. REAL THINGS IN NATURE.</b> A Reading Book of +Science for American Boys and Girls. By Edward S. Holden. +Illustrated. 12mo. xxxviii + 443 pages.</div> + +<p>The topics are grouped under nine general heads: Astronomy, +Physics, Meteorology, Chemistry, Geology, Zoölogy, Botany, The +Human Body, and The Early History of Mankind. The various +parts of the volume give the answers to the thousand and one +questions continually arising in the minds of youths at an age +when habits of thought for life are being formed.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>HUFFORD. SHAKESPEARE IN TALE AND VERSE.</b> By Lois +Grosvenor Hufford. 12mo. ix + 445 pages.</div> + +<p>The purpose of the author is to introduce Shakespeare to such +of his readers as find the intricacies of the plots of the dramas +somewhat difficult to manage. The stories which constitute the +main plots are given, and are interspersed with the dramatic +dialogue in such a manner as to make tale and verse interpret each +other.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>HUGHES. TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS.</b> By Thomas Hughes. +12mo. Illustrated. xxi + 376 pages.</div> + +<p>An attractive and convenient edition of this great story of life +at Rugby. It is a book that appeals to boys everywhere and +which makes for manliness and high ideals.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>HUTCHINSON. THE STORY OF THE HILLS.</b> A Book about +Mountains for General Readers. By Rev. H. W. Hutchinson. +12mo. Illustrated. xv + 357 pages.</div> + +<p>"A clear account of the geological formation of mountains and +their various methods of origin in language so clear and untechnical +that it will not confuse even the most unscientific."—<i>Boston +Evening Transcript.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ad_5" id="Page_ad_5">[5]</a></span><br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>ILLINOIS GIRL. A PRAIRIE WINTER.</b> By an Illinois Girl. +16mo. 164 pages.</div> + +<p>A record of the procession of the months from midway in September +to midway in May. The observations on Nature are accurate +and sympathetic, and they are interspersed with glimpses of a +charming home life and bits of cheerful philosophy.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>INGERSOLL. WILD NEIGHBORS. OUTDOOR STUDIES IN +THE UNITED STATES.</b> By Ernest Ingersoll. 12mo. +Illustrated. xii + 301 pages.</div> + +<p>Studies and stories of the gray squirrel, the puma, the coyote, +the badger, and other burrowers, the porcupine, the skunk, the +woodchuck, and the raccoon.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>INMAN. THE RANCH ON THE OXHIDE.</b> By Henry Inman. +12mo. Illustrated. xi + 297 pages.</div> + +<p>A story of pioneer life in Kansas in the late sixties. Adventures +with wild animals and skirmishes with Indians add interest to the +narrative.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>JOHNSON. CERVANTES' DON QUIXOTE.</b> Edited by Clifton +Johnson. 12mo. Illustrated. xxiii + 398 pages.</div> + +<p>A well-edited edition of this classic. The one effort has been to +bring the book to readable proportions without excluding any really +essential incident or detail, and at the same time to make the text +unobjectionable and wholesome.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>JUDSON. THE GROWTH OF THE AMERICAN NATION.</b> By +Harry Pratt Judson. 12mo. Illustrations and maps. +xi + 359 pages.</div> + +<p>The cardinal facts of American History are grasped in such a +way as to show clearly the orderly development of national life.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>KEARY. THE HEROES OF ASGARD: TALES FROM SCANDINAVIAN +MYTHOLOGY.</b> By A. and E. Keary. 12mo. +Illustrated. 323 pages.</div> + +<p>The book is divided into nine chapters, called "The Æsir," +"How Thor went to Jötunheim," "Frey," "The Wanderings of +Freyja," "Iduna's Apples," "Baldur," "The Binding of Fenrir," +"The Punishment of Loki," "Ragnarök."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ad_6" id="Page_ad_6">[6]</a></span><br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>KING. DE SOTO AND HIS MEN IN THE LAND OF FLORIDA.</b> +By Grace King. 12mo. Illustrated. xiv + 326 pages.</div> + +<p>A story based upon the Spanish and Portuguese accounts of the +attempted conquest by the armada which sailed under De Soto in +1538 to subdue this country. Miss King gives a most entertaining +history of the invaders' struggles and of their final demoralized +rout; while her account of the native tribes is a most attractive +feature of the narrative.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>KINGSLEY. MADAM HOW AND LADY WHY: FIRST LESSONS +IN EARTH LORE FOR CHILDREN.</b> By Charles Kingsley. +12mo. Illustrated. xviii + 321 pages.</div> + +<p>Madam How and Lady Why are two fairies who teach the how +and why of things in nature. There are chapters on Earthquakes, +Volcanoes, Coral Reefs, Glaciers, etc., told in an interesting manner. +The book is intended to lead children to use their eyes and +ears.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>KINGSLEY. THE WATER BABIES: A FAIRY TALE FOR A +LAND BABY.</b> By Charles Kingsley. 12mo. Illustrated. +330 pages.</div> + +<p>One of the best children's stories ever written; it has deservedly +become a classic.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>LANGE. OUR NATIVE BIRDS: HOW TO PROTECT THEM +AND ATTRACT THEM TO OUR HOMES.</b> By D. Lange. +12mo. Illustrated. x + 162 pages.</div> + +<p>A strong plea for the protection of birds. Methods and devices +for their encouragement are given, also a bibliography of helpful +literature, and material for Bird Day.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>LOVELL. STORIES IN STONE FROM THE ROMAN FORUM.</b> +By Isabel Lovell. 12mo. Illustrated. viii + 258 pages.</div> + +<p>The eight stories in this volume give many facts that travelers +wish to know, that historical readers seek, and that young students +enjoy. The book puts the reader in close touch with Roman life.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>McFARLAND. GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH THE TREES.</b> +By J. Horace McFarland. 8vo. Illustrated. xi + 241 pages.</div> + +<p>A charmingly written series of tree essays. They are not +scientific but popular, and are the outcome of the author's desire +that others should share the rest and comfort that have come to +him through acquaintance with trees.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ad_7" id="Page_ad_7">[7]</a></span><br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>MAJOR. THE BEARS OF BLUE RIVER.</b> By Charles Major. +12mo. Illustrated. 277 pages.</div> + +<p>A collection of good bear stories with a live boy for the hero. +The scene is laid in the early days of Indiana.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>MARSHALL. WINIFRED'S JOURNAL.</b> By Emma Marshall. +12mo. Illustrated. 353 pages.</div> + +<p>A story of the time of Charles the First. Some of the characters +are historical personages.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>MEANS. PALMETTO STORIES.</b> By Celina E. Means. 12mo. +Illustrated. x + 244 pages.</div> + +<p>True accounts of some of the men and women who made the +history of South Carolina, and correct pictures of the conditions +under which these men and women labored.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>MORRIS. MAN AND HIS ANCESTOR: A STUDY IN EVOLUTION.</b> +By Charles Morris. 16mo. Illustrated. vii + 238 +pages.</div> + +<p>A popular presentation of the subject of man's origin. The +various significant facts that have been discovered since Darwin's +time are given, as well as certain lines of evidence never before +presented in this connection.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>NEWBOLT. STORIES FROM FROISSART.</b> By Henry Newbolt. +12mo. Illustrated. xxxi + 368 pages.</div> + +<p>Here are given entire thirteen episodes from the "Chronicles" +of Sir John Froissart. The text is modernized sufficiently to make +it intelligible to young readers. Separated narratives are dovetailed, +and new translations have been made where necessary to +make the narrative complete and easily readable.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>OVERTON. THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER.</b> By Gwendolen +Overton. 12mo. Illustrated. vii + 270 pages.</div> + +<p>A story of girl life at an army post on the frontier. The plot is +an absorbing one, and the interest of the reader is held to the end.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>PALGRAVE. THE CHILDREN'S TREASURY OF ENGLISH +SONG.</b> Selected and arranged by Francis Turner Palgrave. +16mo. viii + 302 pages.</div> + +<p>This collection contains 168 selections—songs, narratives, +descriptive or reflective pieces of a lyrical quality, all suited to the +taste and understanding of children.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ad_8" id="Page_ad_8">[8]</a></span><br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>PALMER. STORIES FROM THE CLASSICAL LITERATURE +OF MANY NATIONS.</b> Edited by Bertha Palmer. 12mo. +xv + 297 pages.</div> + +<p>A collection of sixty characteristic stories from Chinese, Japanese, +Hebrew, Babylonian, Arabian, Hindu, Greek, Roman, +German, Scandinavian, Celtic, Russian, Italian, French, Spanish, +Portuguese, Anglo-Saxon, English, Finnish, and American Indian +sources.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>RIIS. CHILDREN OF THE TENEMENTS.</b> By Jacob A. Riis. +12mo. Illustrated. ix + 387 pages.</div> + +<p>Forty sketches and short stories dealing with the lights and +shadows of life in the slums of New York City, told just as they +came to the writer, fresh from the life of the people.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>SANDYS. TRAPPER JIM.</b> By Edwyn Sandys. 12mo. Illustrated. +ix + 441 pages.</div> + +<p>A book which will delight every normal boy. Jim is a city lad +who learns from an older cousin all the lore of outdoor life—trapping, +shooting, fishing, camping, swimming, and canoeing. +The author is a well-known writer on outdoor subjects.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>SEXTON. STORIES OF CALIFORNIA.</b> By Ella M. Sexton. +12mo. Illustrated. x + 211 pages.</div> + +<p>Twenty-two stories illustrating the early conditions and the +romantic history of California and the subsequent development +of the state.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>SHARP. THE YOUNGEST GIRL IN THE SCHOOL.</b> By Evelyn +Sharp. 12mo. Illustrated. ix + 326 pages.</div> + +<p>Bab, the "youngest girl," was only eleven and the pet of five +brothers. Her ups and downs in a strange boarding school make +an interesting story.<br /><br /><br /></p> + + +<div class="hang1"><b>SPARKS. THE MEN WHO MADE THE NATION: AN OUTLINE +OF UNITED STATES HISTORY FROM 1776 TO 1861.</b> By +Edwin E. Sparks. 12mo. Illustrated. viii + 415 pages.</div> + +<p>The author has chosen to tell our history by selecting the one +man at various periods of our affairs who was master of the situation +and about whom events naturally grouped themselves. +The characters thus selected number twelve, as "Samuel Adams, +the man of the town meeting"; "Robert Morris, the financier of +the Revolution"; "Hamilton, the advocate of stronger government," +etc., etc.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> + +<p>Discrepancies in page numbering are due to blank pages and illustrations. Illustrations +have been moved to the page referenced.</p> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + + +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Lucy's Wonderful Globe, by +Charlotte M. 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