On the next day all the ladies and gentlemen who were staying in the castle were to go out riding in the early morning.
The prince had slept late, and he stood for a moment at his window looking down on the courtyard, where there was a great bustling and prancing and making ready.
Through the midst of all this an old peasant woman was making her way.
She had a basket of eggs on her arm, and carefully laid on the top of it was a round flat cake, brown and spicy-looking, with a sugar heart in the middle of it, surrounded by pink and white sugar roses.
She had made it for a birthday gift for the King’s son. But she was a little confused by all the bustle in the courtyard, and scurried hither and thither among the horses and people like a frightened hen.
Presently one of the King’s servants pushed her out of the way. Her foot caught on the edge of a stone; she tripped and fell.
The eggs rolled out of the basket. Plop! Plop! they went on the stones.
There was a fine mess, and the beautiful cake lay in the midst of it, in fragments.
The old woman was so vexed and upset that she forgot everything but the misfortune that had befallen her, and she stood in the middle of the courtyard surrounded by her broken eggs, scolding away at the top of her voice and shaking her old umbrella at the whole gay crowd.
Everybody laughed; and indeed she was a rather comical sight as she stood there shouting and storming. Somebody threw her a gold piece, which was kindly meant. But a gold piece wouldn’t make her beautiful cake whole again.