Once upon a time a little girl was standing at the window of a large and
beautiful room. She was a Princess; she had a crown on her head, and she
was dressed in the grandest clothes that could be bought, but she looked
very cross.
Presently a Fairy flew in at the window, and sat down on the ledge. The
Princess was not at all surprised, as there were a good many fairies
about in those days, and she had seen several before.
“A penny for your thoughts,” said the Fairy.
“If you mean that you will give me a penny if I tell you what I am
thinking about,” said the Princess, “I don’t want it. I have a purse full
of sovereigns in the ivory cabinet where I keep my toys.”
“Oh, that must be nice,” said the Fairy; “how glad that child would be
who lives in the cottage over the road if she had some of your money.”
The Princess looked quite interested at this. “How funny that you should
say that,” she said; “I was just thinking about her when you came in. I
do so wish that I were she.”
“Indeed!” said the Fairy.
“Yes,” said the Princess, “I watch her every day, and you can’t think
what a fine time she has. She can run out to play in the street whenever
she likes, and there is a dear baby for her to have games with. I mayn’t
run about out of doors for fear of spoiling my clothes, and I have no one
but grown-up people to keep me company. Then she sits on the door-step to
eat her dinner, while I have to sit on a chair covered with red velvet,
and have to be so careful not to spill anything, because the tablecloth
is made of the finest damask. And nobody scolds her when she gets dirty,
and she may kiss her mother whenever she likes. My mother says, ‘Don’t
touch me now, Josephine; can’t you see that I have just been powdered?’
And there are lots and lots of other things that make me wish that I were
that little girl. Couldn’t you make us change places?”
The Fairy looked rather grave, and said:
“Yes, my little Princess, I could make you change places, but I am not
going to do so. I quite see that your life is not so pleasant as it might
be, but I happen to know that little girl very well, and I am afraid
that you would be no happier if you were in her place.”
“Why?” asked the Princess.
“Well,” said the Fairy, “for one thing, she hardly ever gets enough to
eat, and even the little she does have, is nothing like the dainty food
that is given you every day. In the winter the wind blows right through
her poor thin clothes; she has no bed, but has to lie on the bare floor
with a few old shawls and rags to cover her, and it is very cold and
damp, as there are holes in the roof through which the rain comes. Her
only toys are those that she picked up in the gutter. I could tell you
more things about her, but I mustn’t stop any longer, as I have to go
and amuse a child who has hurt its back and has to lie still all day.
Good-bye!”
And then the Fairy spread her wings and flew away over the roofs and
chimney-pots.
Though at first the Princess was disappointed that the Fairy would not
let her change places with the poor child whom she had envied so much,
she was very interested in what she had heard. As she grew older she
found out more about the poor folk who lived in that country, and when
she became Queen she did many things to help them. She never painted or
powdered her face, so that her own children could kiss her whenever they
liked. They only wore crowns on state occasions, and the clothes in which
they played, were ones which would not spoil easily. They had a garden
where they could dig and romp without being scolded; and when they in
turn grew up, they brought up their children in the same way.
And perhaps that is why, now-a-days, the children of Kings and Queens
look just like ordinary boys and girls, and not like the ones in
picture-books.