In this chapter, Sara learns how to milk a cow, and discovers a new favorite story.
The Morris family typically woke up before dawn, as one must do living on a farm. The day already was quite warm, so breakfast was not cooked on the fire, instead a simple breakfast of bread, cheese, and milk was served. Mrs. Morris kept the milk from the day before in a cool place in the cupboard.
It was Becky's usual chore to get Teddy and Martha washed and dressed. Sara helped eagerly, admitting to herself the two are much better behaved than Lottie.
After breakfast, chores were assigned: Teddy was to tend the horses, Martha to tend the pigs, little Maudie (who had just turned three and was eager to help) would gather eggs, while Becky and Sara were to milk the cows.
Being inexperienced with farm life, Becky started the first milking, as she showed Sara the best way to milk a cow to get the most amount of milk.
"You won't get as much milk at first, but you just gotta practice." With one wringing squeeze, almost like she wrung a dishrag, the cow's udder released a stream of milk, then Sara's other hand made similar motions on the other teat she grabbed, continuing to milk the cow until the bucket was about half full.
"You did good, Sara! When I first started, I couldn't even get half of what you got." They continued to milk the other cows, getting about three buckets between them. When Sara lamented they could have gotten more, Becky was quick to reassure her, "don't worry none, we milk the cows twice a day."
"What do you do with all the milk?" Sara carried her one bucket, as Becky carried two
"We keep about half to drink, and Ma and Gran make butter and cheese with the other half, sometimes to keep, sometimes to sell at the market" Becky smiled proudly.
"Oh, Becky, it's just like the Hameau de la Reine!" Sara exclaimed excitedly.
"The Ham in the Rain?" Becky still did not understand French, which is quite alright, as she never even started lessons. The girls started to walk back to the house as they chatted.
"It means 'The Queen's Hamlet'. It was Marie Antoinette's little village inside the Versailles palace. She and the ladies of her court would go there and could pretend to be milkmaids. It was a real, functional farm, Becky."
"But why'd she want a farm inside a palace? She had servants by the hundreds, didn't she? If I had that many servants, I'd never work again." On the last note, Becky sighed dreamily.
"Yes, she did, but even living in splendor is tiring sometimes. Of course, I'm no Marie Antoinette, but sometimes I wish I could be someone other than Sara Crewe, the Diamond Princess." She looked up at Becky, "It's not that I'm ungrateful, it's..." Sara grunted softly as she struggled to come up with the right words as she stopped right in the doorway. "It's hard to explain, but sometimes, Becky, I feel as If I want to be someone else. Have you ever felt like that?"
"Of course, Sara. When I first started working at Miss Minchin's, and saw all your pretty things, and wished I was you." She smiled.
"Oh, I knew you'd understand." Sara gave out a sigh of relief as they walked inside, and Granny was in her chair at her knitting, when she saw the girls come in "oh, girls, how was Sara's first time milking a cow?"
"Better than mine, Gran. She has some talent," Becky bragged on her friend as Sara flushed scarlet.
"Well, set the buckets down and take a quick break. I suspect your ma will be back soon enough." She gave them a thick slice of bread each and poured them both cups of milk as the girls set the buckets in the cupboard.
When Sara looked up a bit worried, Gran was quick to assure her, "the little ones will come in soon enough, no one goes hungry here." She smiled a little, remembering her own hungry days.
Just as Granny Morris predicted, soon enough the other children came in, Maudie carrying her egg basket carefully before Becky helped her set it on the table.
They all ate a good, wholesome lunch before Mother came back from the market, holding a basket full of fresh summer fruit: strawberries, blackberries, gooseberries, raspberries, and currants. She had apparently spent her morning at the market. The children stared wide-eyed and each took a small handful of favored berries; the rest were to be saved for desserts or jams.
After lunch, Sara and Becky decided to take a trip into town, something that Clara decided was definitely earned, though on the condition they sell some eggs at the general store. They both had a bit of pocket money, so they decided to buy themselves a treat.
They looked in various small shops, but the primary shop for treats was the general store. The man at the counter, Mr. Smith, greeted Becky warmly, "Hullo there, Miss. Becky. Who's this pretty girl you're with?"
"This is Sara. She's staying with me for a month or so."
"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Sara," he held out his hand, and she took it, "Pleasure is all mine, sir. You have a lovely shop."
"Thank you, Missy." While Sara went to look around, Becky sold the eggs to Mr. Smith. "A fine basket of eggs, Miss Becky. I'd say about 5 shillings and 10 pence." Becky nodded. It was such a fair price. Becky pocketed the coins and went to join Sara, who was in the store's book section. It wasn't too expansive, but it had a few choice selections, all with such lovely covers: A Pictorial Pilgrim's Progress, Little Lord Fauntleroy, Alice in Wonderland, Elsie's Holidays at Roselands...
"So many choices..." Sara mused until she saw one book, bright red, on it a girl with short black hair. Shorter than my own! Sara thought. It certainly was a pretty cover...
"Find anything, Sara?" Beck was already holding her treasure, a small sewing kit of her own. Sara nodded and picked up the book, reading the side of the spine, Heidi.
Sara picked her prize and they both paid for their new treasures, walking home together happily as they chatted, congratulating each other on finding such lovely treasures.
When they reached the Morris family cottage, seeing as no more chores needed to be done, Sara dove headfirst into the adventures of the little Swiss girl living in the alps. Before she realized it, it was suppertime.
Supper was also, like yesterday's, wholesome and nourishing. Becky, not much of a confident reader, asked Sara after supper, "could you read that new book to me, Sara? It must be something, you've read it for hours." Sara nodded, "of course, Becky. I'll start from the beginning."
They went into their corner of the room, sitting close together as Sara read out loud from the book, "From the old and pleasantly situated village of Mayenfeld, a footpath winds through green and shady meadows to the foot of the mountains, which on this side look down from their stern and lofty heights upon the valley below. The land grows gradually wilder as the path ascends, and the climber has not gone far before he begins to inhale the fragrance of the short grass and sturdy mountain-plants, for the way is steep and leads directly up to the summits above..."
The other children heard Sara's voice and sat enthralled, never hearing anyone read so beautifully. Soon, the entire family was listening, gathering around Sara as the sun set on another day.