Маленькая принцесса
One of the Populace
Shepickedherwayascarefullyasshecould,butshecouldnotsaveherselfmuch;only,inpickingherway,shehadtolookdownatherfeetandthemud,andinlookingdown—justasshereachedthepavement—shesawsomethingshininginthegutter.Itwasactuallyapieceofsilver—atinypiecetroddenuponbymanyfeet,butstillwithspiritenoughlefttoshinealittle.Notquiteasixpence,butthenextthingtoit—afourpennypiece.
Inoneseconditwasinhercoldlittlered-and-bluehand.
"Oh,"shegasped,"itistrue!Itistrue!"
Andthen,ifyouwillbelieveme,shelookedstraightattheshopdirectlyfacingher.Anditwasabaker’sshop,andacheerful,stout,motherlywomanwithrosycheekswasputtingintothewindowatrayofdeliciousnewlybakedhotbuns,freshfromtheoven—large,plump,shinybuns,withcurrantsinthem.
ItalmostmadeSarafeelfaintforafewseconds—theshock,andthesightofthebuns,andthedelightfulodorsofwarmbreadfloatingupthroughthebaker’scellarwindow.
Sheknewsheneednothesitatetousethelittlepieceofmoney.Ithadevidentlybeenlyinginthemudforsometime,anditsownerwascompletelylostinthestreamofpassingpeoplewhocrowdedandjostledeachotheralldaylong.
"ButI’llgoandaskthebakerwomanifshehaslostanything,"shesaidtoherself,ratherfaintly.Soshecrossedthepavementandputherwetfootonthestep.Asshedidsoshesawsomethingthatmadeherstop.
