Her father and mother were poor, and could not give her many things. Rosamond would have utterly¹ despised the rude, simple playthings she had. Yet in one respect they were of more value far than hers: the king bought Rosamond’s with his money; Agnes’s father made hers with his hands.

 

And while Agnes had but few things—not seeing many things about her, and not even knowing that there were many things anywhere, she did not wish for many things, and was therefore neither covetous² nor avaricious³.

 

She played with the toys her father made her, and thought them the most wonderful things in the world—windmills, and little crooks⁴, and water-wheels, and sometimes lambs made all of wool, and dolls made out of the leg-bones of sheep, which her mother dressed for her; and of such playthings she was never tired. Sometimes, however, she preferred playing with stones, which were plentiful⁵, and flowers, which were few, or the brooks⁶ that ran down the hill, of which, although they were many, she could only play with one at a time, and that, indeed, troubled her a little—or live lambs that were not all wool, or the sheep-dogs, which were very friendly with her, and the best of playfellows, as she thought, for she had no human ones to compare them with. Neither was she greedy after nice things, but content, as well she might be, with the homely⁷ food provided for her. Nor was she by nature particularly self-willed or disobedient; she generally did what her father and mother wished, and believed what they told her. But by degrees they had spoiled her; and this was the way: they were so proud of her that they always repeated every thing she said, and told every thing she did, even when she was present; and so full of

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