Now the best way for Vi to have done was to have gone up to one of the houses and asked where her Aunt Jo's home was. But the funny thing about it was that Vi wasn't quite sure what her aunt's name was. Her own name, she knew, was Violet Bunker, but she never spoke of Aunt Jo except just by that name, never using the last part and, while it was the same name as her own, Vi didn't know it. She felt she couldn't very well go up to a house and say: "Where does my Aunt Jo live?" The person in the house would be sure to ask: "What is your aunt's last name, my dear, and on what street does she live?" But Vi didn't know that. So you see she was quite badly lost, though she had only been away from her aunt's home a little while. And then, as the little girl stood there, the tears coming into her eyes faster than ever, along came a rather tall girl with a pleasant face, who, as soon as she saw Vi, went up to her and asked kindly: "What is the matter? Did you lose your money?" "Oh, no," Vi answered, "I didn't lose my money, but I've lost myself. I spent the money for bread for Aunt Jo, but I came on the wrong street, I guess, and I don't know where she lives." "Where who lives?" "Aunt Jo. I'm one of the six little Bunkers and we're staying at Aunt Jo's, but I don't know where she lives." Then this tall, pleasant-faced girl asked, just as any one else would have done: "What's Aunt Jo's other name?" And Vi didn't know! Then the girl tried to get Vi to tell in what sort of house Aunt Jo lived, and near what other houses or big buildings it was. But Vi was only six years old, and she hadn't noticed much about houses. She had been too busy playing. "But Aunt Jo has a big dog," said Vi. "He's an awful big dog, and he almost knocks you down when he plays with you. If I could find him he'd take me home." "What's the dog's name?" asked the girl. "Alexis," answered Vi, "and he----" "Oh, now I know where your aunt lives!" cried the tall girl. "I often see that big dog, and I have heard the chauffeur call him Alexis. I remember it because it's a sort of Russian name, and I like to read about Russia. Now I can take you home." "Can you--really?" asked Vi eagerly. "Surely. I know the very house where Alexis lives, and if you live there with your Aunt Jo I can take you home. It isn't far; come on. My name is Mary Turner, and my mother used to sew for a lady on the same street where your aunt lives. I know the way; come on." Taking hold of Vi's hand, the kind girl led her along the street, around a corner and down another block and then Vi cried: "Oh, now I'm all right. I know where I am now. That's Mr. North's house and I see Aunt Jo's house and here comes Daddy to meet me!" And surely enough, along came Mr. Bunker, looking up and down the street for a sight of his little girl, who had been gone so long for the loaf of bread that he knew she must be lost.