9 What Would a Princess Do

CHAPTER 9 What Would a Princess Do? The winter days grew shorter and so chilly that Sara became stiffer and more tired every day. Becky was faring no better. "If it weren't fer you, miss," she said one morning, before they began their day, "the prisoner in the next cell, I think I should die." And with that, the girls set off downstairs, to do their drudge work. Sara had to accomplish many things that

day. And because the cook had been in an awful mood that morning, it seemed she would have to do them on an empty stomach. The streets were soaked in a damp, cold mist, and Sara's raggedy clothes were quickly wet right through to the skin. The icy cold water went squish in her holey shoes, and the wind seemed to cut like a knife through her outgrown, flimsy jacket. "Oh Becky," she thought, "perhaps I might die today as well." Suddenly, Sara saw a shiny object just beneath her feet, in the muddy gutter. Bending down to take a closer look, she saw that it was really a few coins. They had probably fallen out of a hole in someone's pocket. She scooped them up with her cold, reddened hands. "Oh," she gasped, "it is true!" Just down the street was a bakery, in

which a cheerful, stout woman was putting a tray of delicious, newly baked hot buns in a lit-up window. More than anything, Sara wanted to take the coins and buy some fresh buns. Doing some math in her head, she might be able to pay for as many as four. But then she frowned. She felt that it was wrong to use money that someone else had lost and might need. She looked around for someone to ask about the money, but there was nobody. And so she decided that she would at least ask the woman in the bakery if she had lost it. The woman looked at Sara strangely. "Bless us! No," she answered. "Did you find it?" "Yes," Sara said, "in the gutter." "Well then, keep it," said the woman. "It's a busy street. You'll never find out who lost

it." "I know," Sara said, "but I thought I would just ask you." "Not many would," the woman said, looking at Sara with respect. "Do you want to buy something?" "Yes, thank you," Sara said. "Four buns, if you please." The woman could see that Sara was staring at the buns with hunger, as though she could eat one hundred in one big bite. So she kindly put six buns in the bag instead of four. "Oh," Sara said, looking into the bag and noticing the mistake. "I said four, if you please. I can only pay for four." "I threw in two for free," the woman said. "A baker's half dozen. I daresay you will be able to eat them all. Aren't you hungry?" A mist rose before Sara's eyes. "I am very hungry. Thank you so much!"

On her way out of the bakery, however, something—or rather, someone—stopped Sara in her tracks. It was a little figure more pitiful even than herself—a figure that was not much more than a bundle of rags, from which small, bare, muddy red feet peeped out, because her rags were not long enough to cover them. Above the rags, Sara could see a dirty face with big, saucer-like, hungry eyes and a head of tangled hair that made her look like a wild animal. "This girl," Sara thought, "is even worse off than I am." As Sara came near, the little girl turned her head away, as though Sara was going to yell at her or shoo her out of the way, like everyone else did. "Are you hungry?" Sara asked. The little girl looked up in surprise. "I am," she said. She told Sara that she had not eaten in days.

Sara couldn't believe she was going to do what she was about to do. "But after all," she thought, "what would a princess do?" She reached into her bag, took out one of the buns, and gave it to the other little girl. The girl sat up straight, then grabbed it and crammed it into her mouth in one big, wolfish bite. "Oh my," Sara heard her say in wild delight. "Oh my! Oh my!" With shaking hands, Sara took out three more buns and handed them over, only to watch them be devoured in the same way. She thought she might faint when she handed over the fifth bun. But, tightly