The Confessions of Crawfie

THE LITTLE PRINCESSES (314 pp.) --Marion Crawford-- Harcourt, Brace ($3.50).

It was bedtime when the new governess arrived. The little girl sat up in her bed, looked the lady over, and spoke her mind: "Why have you no hair?" Miss Crawford had hair and proved it by taking off her hat. She also had tact, wit and a will beneath the hat, and proved it thereafter in one of the toughest assignments in the British Empire. For the next 16 years (until 1949), "Crawfie's" job was to teach the outspoken little girl and her tart-tongued sister their respective places -- as royal princesses of the world's greatest monarchy.

In-The Little Princesses, Governess Crawford tells the story of her long visit with Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret Rose. She tells it cozily, as might an old servant chatting over the teacups. She also tells it a bit breathlessly, as might a woman whose secrets have been burning a hole in her tongue for 16 years. Yet she tells it on the whole discreetly, as befits one who knows that what she says is certain to get back to the people she's talking about.

Quick with a Hook. In short, The Little Princesses has only slightly more human interest and gossip value than a Court Circular. But it is written in a much more affable style, and since the book concerns one of the world's best-loved families it is almost certain to become a bestseller. The best of the book is a small body of anecdote that Author Crawford retails with all the backstairs skill of an experienced court attendant. Items:

When Governess Crawford first met gruff King George V, he stared at her a moment, then blurted: "For goodness sake, teach Margaret and Lilibet to write a decent hand, that's all I ask you." And stomped off.

Once, when a French lesson got Lilibet's English up, the now matronly heiress apparent to Britain's throne impetuously crowned herself with an ornamental inkpot, and for a time had blue hair to match her blood.

Lilibet, says Crawfie, was "quick with her left hook," and Margaret was "known to bite on occasions." The result: "a hand bearing the royal teeth marks."

After the exhausting coronation, when photographers kept the royal family posing for picture after picture, the new Queen remarked sadly: "We aren't supposed to be human."

Grace & Favour. Author Crawford has but two moments of rashness in the entire book: 1) she suggests that the royal family did not entirely approve of Mrs. Simpson; 2) she reports that Queen Victoria's bedroom chinaware was emblazoned with the letters VR.

Such loyal discretion and faithful service deserve their reward, and Crawfie has gotten it. She and her husband, whom she wed in 1947, now have free lodging in one of the King's Grace and Favour Houses, royal properties which the King traditionally may turn over on a lifetime lease to deserving subjects.

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