ssed over, many's the time, with
poor Ben Bunker, who was last seen off Cape Hatteras."

"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."

"Ho! ho!" said the housekeeper, laughing; "does the child think I sailed
on that very globe there?"

"I know one learns names," said Lucy; "but is it real?"

"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 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.

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.

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, ay, and fields, but not always so very 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
'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