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 in, a pretty bay shut in with
rocks and hills; a point jutting out, generally a steep rock with a
lighthouse on it.

"And all these places are countries, Bunchey, are they, with fields
and houses like ours?"

"Houses, yes, and fields, but not always like ours, Miss Lucy."

"And are there little children, boys and girls, in them all?"

"To be sure there are, else how would the world go on? Why, I've
seen them by swarms, white or brown or black, running down to the
shore as soon as the vessel cast anchor; and whatever color they
were, you might be sure of two things, Miss Lucy, in which they
were all alike."

"Oh, what, Mrs. Bunker?"

"Why, in making plenty of noise, and in 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 cleaner. Some of them
looked for all the world like the little bronze images your Uncle
has got in the museum, which he brought from Italy, and they hadn't