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Sara Crewe Chapter 2 · The Frances Hodgson Burnett Library

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  Speaker 1: This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in
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  Speaker 1: the public domain. For more information and to find out
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  Speaker 1: how you can volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Sarah
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  Speaker 1: Crewe or What Happened at Miss Minchin's by Frances Hodgson Burnett,
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  Speaker 1: Part two. None of Miss Minchin's young ladies were very
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  Speaker 1: remarkable for being brilliant. They were select, but some of
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  Speaker 1: them were very dull, and some of them were fond
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  Speaker 1: of applying themselves to their lessons. Sarah, who snatched her
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  Speaker 1: lessons at all sorts of untimely hours from tattered and
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  Speaker 1: discarded books, and who had a hungry craving for everything readable,
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  Speaker 1: was often severe upon them in her small mind. They
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  Speaker 1: had books they never read. She had no books at all.
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  Speaker 1: If she had always had something to read, she would
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  Speaker 1: not have been so lonely. She liked romances and history
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  Speaker 1: and poetry. She would read anything. There was a sentimental
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  Speaker 1: housemaid in the establishment who bought the weekly penny papers
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  Speaker 1: and subscribed to a circulating library from which she got
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  Speaker 1: greasy volumes containing stories of marquise and dukes, who invariably
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  Speaker 1: fall in love with orange girls and gypsies. And servant
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  Speaker 1: maids and made them the proud brides of coronets, and
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  Speaker 1: Sarah often did parts of this maid's work so that
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  Speaker 1: she might earn the privilege of reading these romantic histories.
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  Speaker 1: There was also a fat, dull pupil whose name was
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  Speaker 1: Ermengarde Saint John, who was one of her resources. Ermengarde
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  Speaker 1: had an intellectual father who, in his despairing desire to
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  Speaker 1: encourage his daughter, constantly sent her valuable and interesting books,
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  Speaker 1: which were a continual source of grief to her. Sarah
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  Speaker 1: had once actually found her crying over a big package
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  Speaker 1: of them. What is the matter with you? She asked her,
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  Speaker 1: perhaps rather disdainfully, And it is just possible she would
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  Speaker 1: not have spoken to her if she had not seen
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  Speaker 1: the books. The sight of books always gave Sarah a
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  Speaker 1: hungry feeling, and she could not help drawing near to them,
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  Speaker 1: if only to read their titles. What is the matter
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  Speaker 1: with you, she asked. My papa has sent me some
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  Speaker 1: more books, answered Ermengarde woefully, and he expects me to
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  Speaker 1: read them. Don't you like reading, said Sarah. I hate it,
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  Speaker 1: replied missus Ermengarde Saint John. And he will ask me
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  Speaker 1: questions when he sees me. He will want to know
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  Speaker 1: how much I remember. How would you like to have
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  Speaker 1: read all those I'd like it better than anything else
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  Speaker 1: in the world, said Sarah. Ermengarde wiped her eyes to
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  Speaker 1: look at such a prodigy. Oh gracious, she exclaimed. Sarah
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  Speaker 1: returned the look with interest. A sudden plan formed itself
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  Speaker 1: in her sharp mind. Look here, she said, If you'll
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  Speaker 1: lend me those books, I'll read them and tell you
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  Speaker 1: everything that's in them afterward, and I'll tell it to
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  Speaker 1: you so that you will remember it. I know I can.
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  Speaker 1: The ABC children always remember what I tell them. Oh goodness,
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  Speaker 1: said Ermengarde. Do you think you could. I know I could,
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  Speaker 1: answered Sarah. I like to read, and I always remember.
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  Speaker 1: I'll take care of the books too. They will look
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  Speaker 1: just as new as they do now when I give
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  Speaker 1: them back to you. Ermengarde put her handkerchief in her pocket.
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  Speaker 1: If you'll do that, she said, and if you'll make
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  Speaker 1: me remember, I'll give you. I'll give you some money.
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  Speaker 1: I don't want your money, said Sarah. I want your books.
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  Speaker 1: I want them, and her eyes grew big and queer,
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  Speaker 1: and her chest heaved. Once take them, then, said Ermengarde.
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  Speaker 1: I wish I wanted them, but I am not clever,
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  Speaker 1: and my father is, and he thinks I ought to be.
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  Speaker 1: Sarah picked up the books and marched off with them,
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  Speaker 1: but when she was at the door, she stopped and
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  Speaker 1: turned around. What are you going to tell your father,
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  Speaker 1: she asked, Oh, said Ermengarde. He needn't know. He'll think
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  Speaker 1: I've read them. Sarah looked down at the books. Her
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  Speaker 1: heart really began to beat fast. I won't do it,
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  Speaker 1: she said, rather slowly. If you are going to tell
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  Speaker 1: him lies about it, I don't like lies. Why can't
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  Speaker 1: you tell him that I read them and then told
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  Speaker 1: you about them. But he wants me to read them,
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  Speaker 1: said Ermengarde. He wants you to know what is in them,
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  Speaker 1: said Sarah. And if I can tell it to you
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  Speaker 1: in an easy way and make you remember, I should
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  Speaker 1: think he would like that. He would like it better
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  Speaker 1: if I read them myself, replied Ermengarde. He will like it.
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  Speaker 1: I dare say if you learn anything in any way,
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  Speaker 1: said Sarah, I should if I were your father. And
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  Speaker 1: though this was not a flattering way of stating the case,
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  Speaker 1: Ermengarde was obliged to admit it was true, and after
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  Speaker 1: a little more argument, gave in, and so she used
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  Speaker 1: afterward always to hand over her books to Sarah, and
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  Speaker 1: Sara would carry them to her garret and devour them,
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  Speaker 1: and after she had read each volume, she would return
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  Speaker 1: it and tell Ermengarde about it in a way of
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  Speaker 1: her own. She had a gift for making things interesting.
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  Speaker 1: Her imagination helped her make everything rather like a story,
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  Speaker 1: and she managed this matter so well that Miss Saint
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  Speaker 1: John gained more information from her books than she would
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  Speaker 1: have gained if she had read them three times over
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  Speaker 1: by her poor, stupid little self. When Sara sat down
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  Speaker 1: by her and began to tell some story of travel
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  Speaker 1: or history, she made the travels and historical people seem real,
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  Speaker 1: and Ermengarde used to sit and regard her dramatic gestulations,
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  Speaker 1: her thin, little flushed cheeks, and her shining odd eyes
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  Speaker 1: with amazement. It sounds nicer than it seems in the books.
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  Speaker 1: She would say. I never cared about Mary, Queen of
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  Speaker 1: Scot's before, and I always hated the French Revolution. But
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  Speaker 1: you make it sound like a story. It is a story,
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  Speaker 1: Sarah would answer. They are all stories. Everything is a story.
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  Speaker 1: Everything in this world. You are a story. I am
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  Speaker 1: a story. Miss Minchin is a story. You can make
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  Speaker 1: a story out of anything. I can't, said Ermengarde. Sarah
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  Speaker 1: stared at her a minute reflectively. No, she said, at last,
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  Speaker 1: I suppose you couldn't. You are a little like Emily.
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  Speaker 1: Who is Emily? Sarah recollected herself. She knew she was
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  Speaker 1: sometimes rather impolite in the candor of her remarks, and
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  Speaker 1: she did not want to be impolite to a girl
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  Speaker 1: who was not unkind, only stupid. Notwithstanding all her sharp
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  Speaker 1: little ways, she had the sense to wish to be
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  Speaker 1: just to everybody. In the hours she spent alone, she
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  Speaker 1: used to argue out a great many curious questions with herself.
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  Speaker 1: One thing she had decided upon was that a person
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  Speaker 1: who was clever ought to be clever enough not to
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  Speaker 1: be unjust or deliberately unkind to anyone. Miss Minchin was
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  Speaker 1: unjust and cruel. Miss Amelia was unkind and spiteful. The
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  Speaker 1: cook was malicious and hasty tempered. They were all stupid
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  Speaker 1: and made her despise them, and she desired to be
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  Speaker 1: as unlike them as possible, so she would be as
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  Speaker 1: polite as she could to people who in the least
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  Speaker 1: deserved politeness. Emily is a person I know, she replied.
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  Speaker 1: Do you like her, asked Ermengarde. Yes, I do, said Sarah.
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  Speaker 1: Ermengarde examined her queer little face and figure. Again she
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  Speaker 1: did look odd. She had on that day a faded
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  Speaker 1: blue plush skirt which barely covered her knees, a brown
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  Speaker 1: cloth sack, and a pair of olive green stockings, which
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  Speaker 1: Miss Minchin had made her peace out with black ones
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  Speaker 1: so that they would be long enough to be kept on.
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  Speaker 1: And yet Ermengarde was beginning slowly to admire her, such
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  Speaker 1: a forlorn, thin, neglected little thing as that, who could
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  Speaker 1: read and read and remember to tell you things so
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  Speaker 1: that they did not tire you all out, a child
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  Speaker 1: who could speak French and who had learned German. No
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  Speaker 1: one knew how one could not help staring at her
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  Speaker 1: and feeling interested, particularly one to whom the simplest lesson
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  Speaker 1: was a trouble and a woe. Do you like me,
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  Speaker 1: said Ermengarde, finally, at the end of her scrutiny. Sarah
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  Speaker 1: hesitated one second, then she answered, I like you because
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  Speaker 1: you are not ill natured. I like you for letting
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  Speaker 1: me read your books. I like you because you don't
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  Speaker 1: make spiteful fun of me for what I can't help.
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  Speaker 1: It's not your fault that she pulled herself up quickly.
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  Speaker 1: She had been going to say that you are stupid.
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  Speaker 1: That what, asked Ermengarde. That you can't learn things quickly?
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  Speaker 1: If you can't, you can't, If I can't, Why I can't?
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  Speaker 1: That's all. She paused a minute, looking at the plump
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  Speaker 1: face before her, and then other Slowly, one of her wise,
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  Speaker 1: old fashioned thoughts came to her. Perhaps, she said, to
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  Speaker 1: be able to learn things quickly, isn't everything? To be
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  Speaker 1: kind is worth a good deal to other people. If
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  Speaker 1: miss Minchin knew everything on earth, which she doesn't, and
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  Speaker 1: if she was like what she is now, she'd still
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  Speaker 1: be a detestable thing, and everybody would hate her. Lots
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  Speaker 1: of clever people have done harm and been wicked. Look
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  Speaker 1: at Robespierre. She stopped again and examined her companion's countenance.
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  Speaker 1: Do you remember about him? She demanded, I believe you
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  Speaker 1: have forgotten. Well, I don't remember all of it, admitted Ermengarde. Well,
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  Speaker 1: said Sarah, with courage and determination, I'll tell it to
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  Speaker 1: you over again, And she plunged once more into the
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  Speaker 1: gory records. Of the French Revolution, and told such stories
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  Speaker 1: of it, and made such vivid pictures of its horrors
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  Speaker 1: that Miss Saint John was afraid to go to bed afterward,
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  Speaker 1: and hid her head under the blankets when she did go,
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  Speaker 1: and shivered until she fell asleep. But afterwards she preserved
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  Speaker 1: lively recollections of the character of Robespierre, and did not
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  Speaker 1: even forget Marie Antoinette and the Princess de Lombald. You know,
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  Speaker 1: they put her head on a pike and danced around it,
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  Speaker 1: Sarah had said, And she had beautiful blonde hair. And
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  Speaker 1: when I think of her, I never see her head
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  Speaker 1: on her body, but always on a pike with those
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  Speaker 1: furious people dancing and howling. Yes, it was true. To
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  Speaker 1: this imaginative child, everything was a story, and the more
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  Speaker 1: books she read, the more imaginative she became. One of
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  Speaker 1: her chief entertainments was to sit in her garret or
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  Speaker 1: walk about it and suppose things. On a cold night,
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  Speaker 1: when she had not had enough to eat, she would
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  Speaker 1: draw the red footstool up before the empty grate and say,
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  Speaker 1: in the most intense voice, suppose there was a grate,
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  Speaker 1: wide steel grate here, and a great glowing fire, a
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  Speaker 1: glowing fire with beds of red hot coal and lots
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  Speaker 1: of little dancing, flickering flames. Suppose there was a soft,
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  Speaker 1: deep rug, and this was a comfortable cheer all cushions
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  Speaker 1: and crimson velvet. And suppose I had a crimson velvet
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  Speaker 1: frock on and a deep lace collar, like a child
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  Speaker 1: in a picture. And suppose all the rest of the
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  Speaker 1: room was furnished in lovely colors, and there were bookshelves
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  Speaker 1: full of books which changed by magic as soon as
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  Speaker 1: you had read them. And suppose there was a little
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  Speaker 1: table here with a snow white cover on it, and
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  Speaker 1: little silver dishes, And in one there was hot hot soup,
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  Speaker 1: and in another a roast chicken, and in another some
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  Speaker 1: raspberry jam tarts with crisscross on them, and in another
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  Speaker 1: some grapes. And suppose Emily could speak, and we could
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  Speaker 1: sit and eat or supper, and then talk and read.
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  Speaker 1: And then suppose there was a soft, warm bed in
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  Speaker 1: the corner, and when we were tired, we could go
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  Speaker 1: to sleep and sleep as long as we liked. Sometimes,
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  Speaker 1: after she had supposed things like these for half an hour,
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  Speaker 1: she would feel almost warm, and would creep into bed
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  Speaker 1: with Emily and fall asleep with a smile on her face.
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  Speaker 1: What large, downy pillows, She would whisper, What white sheets
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  Speaker 1: and fleecy blankets, And she all almost forgot that her
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  Speaker 1: real pillows had scarcely any feathers in them at all
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  Speaker 1: and smelled musty, and that her blankets and cover lid
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  Speaker 1: were thin and full of holes. At another time, she
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  Speaker 1: would suppose that she was a princess, and then she
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  Speaker 1: would go about the house with an expression on her face,
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  Speaker 1: which was a source of great secret annoyance to Miss Minchin,
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  Speaker 1: because it seemed as if the child scarcely heard the spiteful,
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  Speaker 1: insulting things said to her, or if she heard them,
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  Speaker 1: did not care for them at all. Sometimes, while she
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  Speaker 1: was in the midst of some harsh and cruel speech,
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  Speaker 1: Miss Minchin would find the odd, unchildish eyes fixed upon
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  Speaker 1: her with something like a proud smile in them. At
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  Speaker 1: such times, she did not know that Sarah was saying
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  Speaker 1: to herself, you don't know that you are saying these
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  Speaker 1: things to a princess, and that if I chose I
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  Speaker 1: could wave my hand and order you to execution, I
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  Speaker 1: only spare you because I am a princess and you
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  Speaker 1: are a poor stupid, old, vulgar thing, and don't know
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  Speaker 1: any better. This used to please and amuse her more
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  Speaker 1: than anything else. And queer and fanciful as it was,
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  Speaker 1: she found comfort in it, and it was not a
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  Speaker 1: bad thing for her. It really kept her from being
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  Speaker 1: made rude and malicious by the rudeness and malice of
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  Speaker 1: those about her. A princess must be polite, she said
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  Speaker 1: to herself. And so when the servants who took their
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  Speaker 1: tone from their mistress were insolent and ordered her about,
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  Speaker 1: she would hold her head erect and reply to them,
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  Speaker 1: sometimes in a way which made them stare at her.
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  Speaker 1: It was so quaintly civil. I am a princess in
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  Speaker 1: rags and tatters, she think, But I am a princess inside.
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  Speaker 1: It would be easy to be a princess if I
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  Speaker 1: were dressed in cloth of gold. It is a great
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  Speaker 1: deal more of a triumph to be won all the
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  Speaker 1: time when no one knows it. There was Marie Antoinette,
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  Speaker 1: when she was in prison and her throne was gone,
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  Speaker 1: and she had only a black gown on, and her
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  Speaker 1: hair was white, and they insulted her and called her
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  Speaker 1: the widow cape. She was a great deal more like
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  Speaker 1: a queen than when she was so gay and had
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  Speaker 1: everything grand I like her best. Then those howling mobs
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  Speaker 1: of people did not frighten her. She was stronger than
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  Speaker 1: they were, even when they cut her head off. Once,
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  Speaker 1: when such thoughts were passing through her mind, the look
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  Speaker 1: in her eyes so enraged mismnched that she flew at
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  Speaker 1: Sarah and boxed her ears. Sarah, awakened from her dream,
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  Speaker 1: started a little, and then broke out into a laugh.
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  Speaker 1: What are you laughing at, you bold impudent child, exclaimed
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  Speaker 1: miss Minchin. It took Sarah a few seconds to remember
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  Speaker 1: she was a princess. Her cheeks were red and smarting
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  Speaker 1: from the blows she had received. I was thinking, she said,
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  Speaker 1: beg my pardon, immediately said miss Minchin. I will beg
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  Speaker 1: your pardon for laughing if it was rude, said Sarah.
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  Speaker 1: But I won't beg your pardon for thinking. What were
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  Speaker 1: you thinking? Demanded Miss Minchin? How dare you think? What
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  Speaker 1: were you thinking? This occurred in the schoolroom, and all
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  Speaker 1: the girls looked up from their books to listen. It
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  Speaker 1: always interested them when Miss Minchin flew at Sarah, because
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  Speaker 1: Sarah always said something queer and seemed in the least frightened.
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  Speaker 1: She was not in the least frightened now, though her
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  Speaker 1: boxed ears were scarlet and her eyes were as bright
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  Speaker 1: as stars. I was thinking, she answered, gravely and quite politely,
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  Speaker 1: that you did not know what you were doing. That
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  Speaker 1: I did not know what I was doing. Miss Minchin
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  Speaker 1: fairly gasped yes, said Sarah. And I was thinking what
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  Speaker 1: would happen if I were a princess and you boxed
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  Speaker 1: my ears? What I should do to you? And I
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  Speaker 1: was thinking that if I were one, you would never
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  Speaker 1: dare to do it whatever I said or did. And
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  Speaker 1: I was thinking how surprised and frightened you would be
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  Speaker 1: if you suddenly found out she had the imagined pictures
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  Speaker 1: so clearly before her eyes that she spoke in a
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  Speaker 1: manner which had an effect even on Mismnchin. It almost seemed,
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  Speaker 1: for the moment to her narrow, unimaginative mind, that there
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  Speaker 1: must be some real power behind this candid daring what
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  Speaker 1: she exclaimed. Found out what that I really was a princess,
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  Speaker 1: said Sarah, and could do anything anything I liked. Go
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  Speaker 1: to your room, cried Miss Minchin breathlessly, this instant leave
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  Speaker 1: the schoolroom. I'll tend your lessons, young ladies. Sarah made
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  Speaker 1: a little bow. Excuse me for laughing, if it was impolite,
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  Speaker 1: she said, and walked out of the room, leaving Miss
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  Speaker 1: Minchin in a rage and the girls whispering over their books.
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  Speaker 1: I shouldn't be at all surprised if she did turn
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  Speaker 1: out to be something, said one of them. Suppose she
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  Speaker 1: should end of Part two.