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.
Then came a merry, merry voice singing something about
[Illustration: 'Ah! Cecco, Cecco!' cried the little girl, pausing as she beat her tambourine.
'Ah! Cecco, Cecco!' cried the little girl, pausing as she beat her tambourine, 'here's a stranger who has no grapes; give them here!'
'But,' said Lucy, 'aren't they your Mamma's grapes; may you give them away?'
'Ah, ah! 'tis the
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 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.
'To the wine-press! to the press!' shouted the children, who were politeness itself and wanted to show her everything.
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.
'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.'
'But you must take off your shoes and stockings,' said his sister, Nunziata; 'we never wear them but on Sundays and holidays.'
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.
CHAPTER IV. GREENLAND.
'SUPPOSE and suppose I tried what the very cold countries are like!'
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 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.
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.
[Illustration: 'Is that the way you get fish?' she asked.
'Is that the way you get fish?' she asked.
'Yes, and seals; Father gets them,' he said.
'Oh, what's that, swimming out there?'
'That's a white bear,' he said, coolly; 'we had better get home.'
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 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.
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! 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!
CHAPTER V. TYROL.
'SUPPOSE 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?'
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 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 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.'
[Illustration: 'Help me, I'm afraid,' said Lucy.
'Help me. I'm afraid,' said Lucy.
