Little Lucys Wonderful Globe | Page 2

much there, for whenever there was anything wonderful to be
seen, he always went 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
the Germans.
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 any,
for she had been born at sea, and had been a sailor's wife; but whether
she was mostly English, Dutch or Spanish, 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.
She was very kind and good natured, and there was nothing that the
children liked better than a walk to Uncle Joseph's, and, after a play in

the garden, tea with her. And such quantities of sugar there were in her
room! such curious cakes made in the fashion of different countries!
such funny preserves from all parts of the world! And still more
delightful, such cupboards and drawers full of wonderful things, and
such stories about them! The younger 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!"
Mrs. Bunker was not a bit like the smart house-keepers 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 crape shawl with a blue dragon on
it--his 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 during the week and about the house she wore a green gown, 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 Uncle Joseph, took it up.
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 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-shell to think about being
set on the chimney-piece, to cry, and say she wanted Mamma.
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.
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, her own china 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 into her, with all her clothes, by Maude, her eldest sister,
to be her companion,--it was such an honor and so very kind of Maude
that it quite warmed the sad little heart.
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