"What is that for, Captain Drummond?" asked Daisy.
"These are the Alps — white, as they should be, for the snow
always lies on them."
"Is it so cold there?"
"No, — but the mountains are so high. Their tops are always
cold, but flowers grow down in the valleys. These are very
great mountains, Daisy."
"And what are those black ones, Captain Drummond?"
"This range is the Pyr?n?es — between France and Spain; — they
are great too, and beautiful. And here go the Carpathians —
and here the Ural mountains, — and these must stand for the
Apennines."
"Are they beautiful too?"
"I suppose so — but I can't say, never having been there. Now
what shall we do for the cities? As they are centres of
wealth, I think a three-cent piece must mark them. Hand over,
Gary; I have not thrips enough. There is St. Petersburg — here
is Constantinople — here is Rome — now here is Paris. Hallo!
we've no England! can't leave London out. Give me that spoon,
Daisy —" and the Captain, as he expressed it, went to work in
the trenches. England was duly marked out, the channel filled,
and a bit of silver planted for the metropolis of the world.
"Upon my word!" said Gary, — "I never knew geography before.
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