Sleep Story: A Little Princess Ch 19

Enjoy this sleep story to help you drift off into a peaceful slumber. Tonight we read Chapter 19 of the timeless classic, A Little Princess, by Frances Hodgson Burnett. This final chapter describes all the good Sara does right after finding out her dream had come true. This audio is perfect for children or adults who want to relax, discover magic or find adventure before a great night's sleep. | This beautiful photo was captured in Colorado by Oliver Pierce.

Transcript

A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett Tonight,

I'll be reading the last few pages of chapter 18 and all of 19 to conclude our story.

So when you're ready,

Settle in.

And let's begin.

That evening,

When the pupils were gathered before the fire,

As was their custom before going to bed,

Ermine Gard came in with a letter in her hand and a queer expression on her round face.

It was queer because,

While it was an expression of delighted excitement,

It was combined with such amazement as seemed to belong to a kind of shock just received.

What is the matter?

Cried two or three voices at once.

Is it anything to do with the row that has been going on?

Said Lavinia eagerly.

There has been such a row in Miss Minchin's room.

Miss Amelia has had something like hysterics and has had to go to bed.

Ermine Gard answered them slowly,

As if she were half stunned.

I have just had this letter from Sarah,

She said,

Holding it out to let them see what a long letter it was.

From Sarah?

Every voice joined in that exclamation.

Where is she?

Almost shrieked Jessie.

Next door,

Said Ermine Gard,

With the Indian gentleman.

Where?

Where?

Has she been sent away?

Does Miss Minchin know?

Was the row about that?

Why did she write?

Oh,

Tell us,

Tell us.

There was a perfect babble,

And Lottie began to cry plaintively.

Ermine Gard answered them slowly,

As if she were half plunged out into what,

At the moment,

Seemed the most important and self-explaining thing.

There were diamond mines,

She said stoutly.

There were.

Open mouths and open eyes confronted her.

They were real.

They were real diamond mines,

She said stoutly.

It was all a mistake about them.

Something happened for a time,

And Mr.

Carisford thought they were ruined.

Who is Mr.

Carisford?

Shouted Jessie.

The Indian gentleman.

Indian Captain Crew thought so,

Too.

And he died.

And Mr.

Carisford had brain fever and ran away,

And he almost died.

And he did not know where Sarah was.

And it turned out that there were millions and millions of diamonds in the mines.

And half of them belonged to Sarah.

And they belonged to her,

When she was living in the attic,

With no one but Malkesedik for a friend and the cook ordering her about.

And Mr.

Carisford found her this afternoon.

And he has got her in his home.

And she will never come back.

And she will be more a princess than she ever was.

A hundred and fifty thousand times more.

And I am going to see her tomorrow afternoon,

There.

Even Miss Minchin herself could scarcely have controlled the uproar after this.

And though she heard the noise,

She did not try.

She was not in the mood to face anything more than she was facing in her room,

While Miss Amelia was weeping in bed.

She knew that the news had penetrated the walls in some mysterious manner,

And that every servant and every child would go to bed talking about it.

So until almost midnight,

The entire seminary,

Realizing somehow that all rules were laid aside,

Crowded round Ermengard in the schoolroom,

And heard read and re-read the letter containing a story which was quite as wonderful as any Sarah herself could have invented,

And which had the amazing charm of having happened to Sarah herself and the mystic Indian gentleman in the very next house.

Becky,

Who had heard it also,

Managed to creep upstairs earlier than usual.

She wanted to get away from people and go and look at the little magic room once more.

She did not know what would happen to it.

It was not likely that it would be left to Miss Minchin.

It would be taken away,

And the attic would be bare and empty again.

Glad as she was for Sarah's sake,

She went up the last flight of stairs,

With a lump in her throat and tears blurring her sight.

There would be no fire tonight,

And no rosy lamp,

No supper,

And no princess sitting in the glow reading or telling stories.

No princess.

She choked down a sob as she pushed the attic door open,

And then she broke into a low cry.

The lamp was flushing the room,

The flier was blazing,

The supper was waiting,

And Ram Das was standing smiling into her startled face.

Missy Sahib remembered,

He said.

She told the Sahib all.

She wished you to know the good fortune which has befallen her.

Behold,

A letter on the tray she has written.

She did not wish that you should go to sleep unhappy.

The Sahib commands you to come to him tomorrow.

You are to be the attendant of Missy Sahib.

Tonight,

I take these things back over the roof.

And having said this with a beaming face,

He made a little salam and slipped through the skylight with an agile silentness of movement,

Which showed Becky how easily he had done it before.

Chapter 19.

Anne Never had such joy reigned in the nursery of the large family.

Never had they dreamed of such delights as resulted from an intimate acquaintance with the little girl who was not a beggar.

The mere fact of her sufferings and adventures made her a priceless possession.

Everybody wanted to be told over and over again the things which had happened to her.

When one was sitting by a fire,

In a big glowing room,

It was quite delightful to hear how cold it could be in an attic.

It must be admitted that the attic was rather delighted in,

And that its coldness and bareness quite sank into insignificance when Melchizedek was remembered.

And one heard about the sparrows and things one could see if one climbed on the table and stuck one's head and shoulders out of the skylight.

Of course,

The thing loved best was the story of the banquet and the dream which was true.

Sarah told it for the first time the day after she'd been found.

Several members of the large family came to take tea with her,

And as they sat or curled up on the hearth rug,

She told the story in her own way.

And the Indian gentleman listened and watched her.

When she had finished,

She looked up at him and put her hand on his knee.

That is my part,

She said.

Now,

Won't you tell your part of it,

Uncle Tom?

He had asked her to call him always Uncle Tom.

I don't know your part yet,

And it must be beautiful.

So he told them how when he sat alone,

Ill and dull and irritable.

Ram Dass had tried to distract him by describing the passers-by,

And there was one child who passed offner than anyone else.

He had begun to be interested in her,

Partly perhaps because he was thinking a great deal of a little girl,

And partly because Ram Dass had been able to relate the incident of his visit to the attic in chase of the monkey.

He had described its cheerless look and the bearing of a child who seemed as if she was not of the class of those who were treated as drudges and servants.

Bit by bit,

Ram Dass had made discoveries concerning the wretchedness of her life.

He had found out how easy a matter it was to climb across the few yards of roof to the skylight,

And this fact had been the beginning of all that followed.

Sahib,

He had said one day,

I could cross the slates and make the child of fire when she is out on some errand.

When she returned wet and cold to find it blazing,

She would think a magician had done it.

The idea had been so fanciful that Mr.

Carrisford's sad face had lighted up with a smile,

And Ram Dass had been so filled with rapture that he had enlarged upon it and explained to his master how simple it would be to accomplish numbers of things.

He had shown a childlike pleasure and invention,

And the preparations for the carrying out of the plan had filled many a day with interest,

Which would otherwise have dragged warily.

On the night of the frustrated banquet,

Ram Dass had kept watch.

All his packages being in readiness in the attic,

Which was his own,

And the person who was to help him had waited with him,

As interested as himself in the odd adventure.

Ram Dass had been lying flat upon the slates,

Looking in at the skylight.

When the banquet had come to its disastrous conclusion,

He had been sure of the profoundness of Ceri's wearied sleep,

And then,

With a dark lantern,

He had crept into the room while his companion remained outside and handed the things to him.

When Sarah had stirred ever so faintly,

Ram Dass had closed the lantern slide and lain flat upon the floor.

These and many other exciting things the children found out by asking a thousand questions.

I am so glad,

Sarah said,

I am so glad it was you who were my friend.

There were never such friends as these two became.

Somehow,

They seemed to suit each other in a wonderful way.

The Indian gentleman had never had a companion he liked quite as much as he liked Sarah.

In a month's time he was,

As Mr.

Carmichael had prophesied,

He would be a new man.

He was always amused and interested,

And he began to find an actual pleasure in the possession of the wealth he had imagined that he loathed the burden of.

There were so many charming things to plan for Sarah.

There was a little joke between them that he was a magician,

And it was one of his private pleasures to invent things to surprise her.

She found beautiful new flowers growing in her room,

Whimsical little gifts tucked under pillows,

And once,

As they sat together in the evening,

They heard the scratch of a heavy paw on the door.

And when Sarah went to find out what it was,

There stood a great dog,

A splendid Russian boarhound,

With a grand silver and gold collar,

Bearing an inscription.

I am Boris,

It read,

I serve the Princess Sarah.

There was nothing the Indian gentleman loved more than the recollection of the little princess in rags and tatters,

The afternoons in which the large family,

Or Ermengarde and Lottie,

Gathered to rejoice together.

Those were very delightful.

But the hours when Sarah and the Indian gentleman sat alone and read,

Or talked,

Had a special charm of their own.

During their passing,

Many interesting things occurred.

One evening,

Mr.

Carysford,

Looking up from his book,

Noticed that his companion had not stirred for some time,

But sat gazing into the fire.

What are you supposing,

Sarah?

He asked.

Sarah looked up,

With a bright colour on her cheek.

I was supposing,

She said,

I was remembering that hungry day,

And a child I saw.

But there were a great many hungry days,

Says the Indian gentleman,

With rather a sad tone in his voice.

Which hungry day was it?

I forgot you didn't know,

Said Sarah.

It was the day the dream came true.

Then she told him the story of the bun shop,

And the fourpence she picked up out of the sloppy mud,

And the child who was hungrier than herself.

She told it quite simply,

And in as few words as possible.

But somehow the Indian gentleman found it necessary to shade his eyes with his hand,

And look down at the carpet.

And I was supposing a kind of plan,

She said,

When she had finished.

I was thinking I should like to do something.

What was it,

Said Mr.

Carosford,

In a low tone.

You may do anything you like to do,

Princess.

I was wondering,

Rather hesitated Sarah.

You know,

You say I have so much money.

I was wondering if I could go see the bun woman,

And tell her that if,

When hungry children,

Particularly on those dreadful days,

Come and sit on the steps,

Or look in at the window,

She could just call them in and give them something to eat.

She might send me the bills.

Could I do that?

You shall do it tomorrow morning,

Said the Indian gentleman.

Thank you,

Said Sarah.

You see,

I know what it is to be hungry,

And it is very hard when one cannot even pretend it away.

Yes,

Yes,

My dear,

Said the Indian gentleman.

Yes,

Yes,

It must be.

Try to forget it.

Come and sit on this footstool near my knee,

And only remember you are a princess.

Yes,

Said Sarah,

Smiling,

And I can give buns and bread to the populace.

And she went and sat on the stool,

And the Indian gentleman,

He used to like her to call him that too sometimes,

Drew her small dark head down on his knee,

And stroked her hair.

The next morning Miss Minchin,

In looking out of her window,

Saw the things she perhaps least enjoyed seeing.

The Indian gentleman's carriage,

With its tall horses,

Drew up before the door of the next house,

And its owner,

And a little figure,

Warm with soft,

Rich furs,

Descended the steps to get into it.

The little figure was a familiar one,

And reminded Miss Minchin of days in the past.

It was followed by another as familiar,

The sight of which she found very irritating.

It was Becky,

Who in the character of delighted attendant,

Always accompanied her young mistress to her carriage,

Carrying wraps and belongings.

Already,

Becky had a pink,

Round face.

A little later the carriage drew up before the doors of the baker's shop,

And its occupants got out,

Loudly enough,

Just as the bun woman was putting a tray of smoking hot buns into the window.

When Sarah entered the shop,

The woman turned and looked at her,

And leaving the buns came and stood behind the counter.

For a moment she looked at Sarah very hard indeed,

And then her good-natured face lighted up.

"'I'm sure that I remember you,

Miss,

' she said,

And yet—'Yes,

' said Sarah,

"'once you gave me six buns for four pence,

And—' "'And you gave five of them to a beggar child,

' the woman broke in on her.

I've always remembered.

I couldn't make it out at first.

' She turned round to the Indian gentleman and spoke her next words to him.

"'I beg your pardon,

Sir,

But there's not many young people that notices a hungry face in that way,

And I've thought of it many a time.

Excuse the liberty,

Miss,

' to Sarah,

But you look rosier,

And well,

Better than you did that—that day.

' I am better,

Thank you,

' said Sarah,

"'and I am much happier,

And I have come to ask you to do something for me.

' "'Me,

Miss?

' exclaimed the bun woman,

Smiling cheerfully.

"'Why,

Bless you!

Yes,

Miss,

What can I do?

' And then Sarah,

Leaning on the counter,

Made her little proposal concerning the dreadful days and the hungry waifs and the buns.

The woman watched her and listened with an astonished face.

"'Why,

Bless me,

' she said again,

When she had heard it all.

"'It'll be my pleasure to me to do it.

I am a working woman myself and cannot afford to do much on my own account,

And there's sights of trouble on every side.

But if you'll excuse me,

I'm bound to say I've given away many a bit of bread since that wet afternoon,

Just along thinking of you,

And how wet and cold you was,

And how hungry you looked,

And yet you gave away your hot buns,

As if you were a princess.

' The Indian gentleman smiled involuntarily at this,

And Sarah smiled a little too,

Remembering what she had said to herself when she put the buns down on the ravenous child's ragged lap.

"'She looks so hungry,

' she said.

"'She was even hungrier than I was.

' "'She was starving,

' said the woman.

"'Many's the time she's told me of it since,

How she sat there in the wet,

And felt as if a wolf was tearing at her poor young insides.

' "'Oh,

Have you seen her since,

Then?

' exclaimed Sarah.

"'Do you know where she is?

' "'Yes,

I do,

' answered the woman,

Smiling more good-naturedly than ever.

"'Why,

She's in that back room,

Miss,

And has been there a month.

And a decent,

Well-meaning girl she's going to turn out,

And such a help to me in the shop and in the kitchen,

As you'd scarce believe,

Knowing how she'd lived.

' She stepped to the door of the little back parlor and spoke,

And the next minute a girl came out and followed her behind the counter.

And actually it was the beggar child,

Clean and neatly clothed,

And looking as if she had not been hungry for a long time.

She looked shy,

But she had a nice face,

Now that she was no longer a savage,

And the wild look had gone from her eyes.

She knew Sarah in an instant,

And stood and looked at her as if she could never look enough.

"'You see,

' said the woman.

"'I told her to come when she was hungry,

And when she'd come I'd give her odd jobs to do.

And I found she was willing,

And somehow I got to like her.

And the end of it was,

I've given her a place and a home,

And she helps me and behaves well,

And is as thankful as a girl can be.

Her name's Anne.

She has no other.

' The children stood and looked at each other for a few minutes,

And then Sarah took her hand out of her muff and held it across the counter,

And Anne took it,

And they looked straight into each other's eyes.

"'I am so glad,

' Sarah said.

"'And I have just thought of something.

Perhaps Miss Brown will let you be the girl who gives the buns out and the bread to the children.

Perhaps you would like to do it because you know what it is to be hungry,

Too.

' "'Yes,

Miss,

' said the girl.

And somehow Sarah felt as if she understood her,

Though she said so little,

And only stood still and looked and looked after her as she went out in the shop with the Indian gentleman.

And they got into the carriage and drove away.

" That's the end of our story for this evening.

Thank you for enjoying this book with me.

I look forward to the next book to come.

Until next time.

Sweet dreams.

Reviews

What a fantastic story! And told so very well too 🙂 Lots of valuable lessons contained within - I'll probably be listening to it all again, just in case I missed something!
Thank you so much for bringing this story to us 🙏

Thank you! I really appreciate your sharing this story! 🙏😀

Thank you Hillary for such an incredibly beautiful Journey .
I was wishing it would never end.

Thank you, Hillary Lafone, for such a beautiful story ❤️ As I listened night after night I began to recall this story made into a movie 🎬 with Shirley Temple. The atic magic and the monkey 🐒 were such fun. I couldn't stop listening from that point on. For I had gathered all the chapters into a folder before I began. Imagination is such a powerful tool for coping during hard times.❤️💖❤️

Beautifully read. Thank you so much.

Not only did your lovely voice lull me to sleep, but I found myself trying to stay awake to hear this wonderful and heartwarming story! Fortunately I was able to rewind and pick up where I left off and enjoy it all. Look forward to the next book! ❤️

Thanks Hilary, I have enjoyed every word and gained many extra hours of sleep 🛌. 🙏🏼❤️

Thank you very much for reading this beautiful story!

Just lovely!

Lovely! I’m looking forward to Little Women, it’s a fabulous story! 🙏🏻💖💖

So fabulous it help me go to sleep every single night thank you I’m going to miss it can’t wait for the next book

Thank you Hilary for this delightful treat of an experience! Your story telling is a gift and I’m looking forward to your next one. And remember to watch the Shirley Temple movie!
🙏🦋🥰

Loved this book and looking forward to the next. Thank you 🙏🏻