pickup on mean street - 9. the woogle woman

by bofa xesjum

part nine of 16

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the hut of the woogle woman was further down the road than her new allies had indicated, and full night had fallen before the princess came to it. the hut was back from the road and down an incline and almost hidden by the overhanging branches of a great tree, and the princess might havre passed it if a light had not suddenly appeared in its one small window just as she approached it. was the woogle woman expecting her? the princess made her way carefully down the incline and approached the hut. she could not make out a door in the hut but one suddenly opened as she reached it. the woogle woman had seen her, at least, even if she had not been expecting her. but the greatest surprise was yet to come. a figure stood in the door of the hut. the princess recognized her! it was one of her old tutors, mademoiselle duval, whom she thought must have perished in the most recent apocalyptic chaos, as she had been turned out of the castle doors by the king and queen as a result of some dreadful scandal the exact nature the innocent young princess had only dimly understood. so madamoiselle duval was the woogle woman! the princess was now more curious than ever to learn exactly what a woogle woman was. good heavens, sophonisba, madamoiselle cried. what a surprise to see you here, under these distressing circumstances. and how you have grown! you are quite a grown up young lady! but, please, come in, as the night is growing quite chilly. sophonisba, for that was indeed the princess’s most commonly used name (she had a dozen), entered the hut and mademoiselle duval closed the door behind them. the hut was only slightly warmer than the road and woods outside. a single candle stood on a single table and shed an uncertain light on the interior. the only other items of furniture were two hard looking wooden chairs. a small kettle stood on a tripod in the corner, but was not in use. a tiny fireplace, barely visible, was also unlit. straw, by no means the cleanest, covered a dirt floor. sophonisba noticed that mademoiselle was wearing what appeared to be several layers of clothing, with a thick shawl over her shoiuders. she thought this did not bode well for the prospect of even a small fire. mademoiselle duval directed sophonisba to take one of the hard chairs, and sat down in the other herself. well, sophonisba, the erstwhile tutor began, you must have had some stirring adventures to have arrived here like this. you must tell me all about them. oh no, mademoiselle, the princess replied. i am sure the stories you have to tell would put mine to shame. you must tell me yours first. well, as you are the guest, i will humor your wishes. just sit back and relax and i will regale you with my sad tale. thank you. sophonisba was by no means a blushing violet and added, i could relax a bit more if i had something to abet my thirst, which is somewhat considerable after my long walk to get here. oh, cried mademiselle duval, what was i thinking! i am being a terrible hostess! she quickly produced a bottle and two small cups from the folds of her voluminous skirt and placed them on the little table. next