Little Lucys Wonderful Globe | Page 6

will be brave chief and warrior
first,--bring home many heads of enemies."
"I--I think it nice to be quiet," said Lucy; "and--and--won't you have
some dinner?"

"Have you baked a pig?" asked Lavo.
"I think this is mutton," said Lucy, when the dish came up,--"It is
sheep's flesh."
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.
"Look here!" and she showed the knives and forks.
"Oh!" cried Lavo, "what good spikes to catch fish with! and knife--
knife--I'll kill foes! much better than shell knife."
"And I'll dig yams," said the sister.
"Oh, no!" entreated Lucy, "we have spades to dig with, soldiers have
swords to fight with; these are to eat with."
"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 tortoise
shell 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.
"A tree, a tree!" cried the Isabelites, "where's 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.
"Tree houses," they cried; "there we are safe from our enemies."
And Lucy found rising before her, instead of her own nursery, a huge
tree, on the top of a mound. 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.


CHAPTER III
. ITALY.
"If 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.
"Yes, Missie, that I have; come out of this cold room and I'll tell you."
Lucy was soon curled in her chair; but no, she wasn't! She was under a
blue, blue sky, as she had never dreamt of; clear, sharp, purple hills
rose up against it. There was a rippling little fountain, bursting out of a
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, 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 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.
Then came a merry, merry voice singing something about _la
vendemmia_; and though Lucy had never learnt Italian, her wonderful
dream knowledge made her sure that this meant the vintage, the grape-
gathering. Presently there came along a youth playing a violin and a
little girl singing. And a whole party of other children, all loaded with
as many grapes as they could carry, came leaping and singing after
them; their black hair loose, or sometimes twisted with vine-leaves;
their big black eyes dancing with merriment, and their bare, brown legs
with glee.
"Ah! Cecco, Cecco! cried the little girl, pausing as she beat her
tambourine, "here's a stranger who has no grapes; bring them here!"
"But," said Lucy, "aren't they your mamma's grapes; may you give
them away?"
"Ah, ah! 'tis the _vendemmia!_ all may eat grapes; as much as they will.

See,