They hardly heard her. One is not always heard when one speaks of justice. She tried in every way to favor the weaker ones, and encourage the timid, but she did not succeed with them. No matter how she tried she fed the fat at the expense of the thin. It made her very sorry: simple child that she was, she did not know it was the way of the world.
Crumb by crumb the slice of bread all went to the little singers, and Fanny went into her grandmother’s house again quite pleased.
III
At evening the grandmother took the basket in which Fanny had brought the cake to her, and filling it with plums and raisins put the handle over her arm, and said:
“Now, Fanny, run straight home, and don’t stop to amuse yourself and play with any of the village scamps. Be a good girl always. Good-bye.”
She kissed her, but Fanny stood a while very thoughtful at the threshold.
“Grandmother,” said she.
“Yes, Fanny dear.”
“I should like so much to know,” said Fanny, “if there were any fine princes among the birds that ate my bread.”