Miss Minchin's Furniture
When Sara arrives at Miss Minchin's school, the headmistress treats her with a near-reverent attitude, since she knows she stands to benefit from Sara's father's wealth. But even though Miss Minchin puts on a smile, her furniture gives her away. It is described as ugly, inflexible, and uncomfortable. These images paint a picture of Miss Minchin's personality, merely displacing her characteristics slightly onto her possessions. Sara notices that "the very armchairs seemed to have hard bones in them. In the hall everything was hard and polished—even the red cheeks of the moon face on the tall clock in the corner had a severe varnished look. The drawing room into which they were ushered was covered by a carpet with a square pattern upon it, the chairs were square, and a heavy marble timepiece stood upon the heavy marble mantel." Even while still giving the headmistress the benefit of the doubt, Sara senses that something is very wrong with this school: its leadership and atmosphere are indeed heavy, hard, and severe, with only a slight varnish of kindness.
Sara's Gifts
Some of the novel's most enjoyable images occur in the early chapters before Sara's father dies, when she receives lovely gifts of clothes, dolls, and even clothes for dolls. Burnett lovingly describes her protagonist's "velvet coats and sable muffs... combined with drooping ostrich feathers," and her "frock the color of a rose." Most magnificent of all are Burnett's descriptions of the "Last Doll" and her wardrobe. "There were lace collars and silk stockings and handkerchiefs; there was a jewel case containing a necklace and a tiara which looked quite as if they were made of real diamonds; there was a long sealskin and muff, there were ball dresses and walking dresses and visiting dresses; there were hats and tea gowns and fans," Burnett writes. Moreover, these visual images are accompanied by sound imagery depicting the rapturous noise in the schoolroom as Sara unwraps her gifts before her classmates. These opulent images build to a fever pitch and then disappear almost at once when Captain Crewe dies, creating an emotionally charged contrast.
Sunset
When all of Sara's toys and other objects of delight are taken from her, she finds beauty in something that costs no money at all: sunsets. From a certain spot in her attic, Sara can see "the piles of red or gold clouds in the west; or the purple ones edged with dazzling brightness; or the little fleecy, floating ones, tinged with rose-color and looking like flights of pink doves scurrying across the blue in a great hurry if there was a wind." Sara particularly delights in the way these clouds "Sometimes... made islands or great mountains enclosing lakes of deep turquoise-blue, or liquid amber, or chrysoprase-green; sometimes dark headlands jutted into strange, lost seas; sometimes slender strips of wonderful lands joined other wonderful lands together. There were places where it seemed that one could run or climb or stand and wait to see what next was coming—until, perhaps, as it all melted, one could float away." These are not only beautiful, colorful images—they also subtly describe the clouds as a landscape unto themselves, giving the sense that Sara might have great freedom, if only she were able to reach them. Sara, imagining the clouds as a separate realm just out of reach, derives comfort as well as aesthetic pleasure from them.
Sara's Attic
One of the most vivid sound-based images of the book occurs during Sara's first night in her new attic bedroom. Her new situation is made utterly clear by "certain scufflings and scratchings and squeakings in the walls and behind the skirting boards," which Sara knows comes from rats and mice. The other elements of Sara's new bedroom aren't much better: there's a hard mattress, the "darkness seemed more intense than any she had ever known, and... the wind howled over the roof among the chimneys like something which wailed aloud." Sara's imagination helps her only a little. When Lottie comes to visit, Sara, for the child's sake, imagines how the room might be improved. “There could be a thick, soft blue Indian rug on the floor; and in that corner there could be a soft little sofa, with cushions to curl up on... and there could be a lamp with a deep rose-colored shade; and a table in the middle, with things to have tea with; and a little fat copper kettle singing on the hob..." she suggests. These are images of softness and warmth, in contrast to the attic's current state of hardness and unbearable cold. For the reader as well as Sara, these comforting and warm images only serve to highlight the attic's depressing bareness.
Ram Dass's Surprise
When Ram Dass decorates Sara's room, she finds that it really is full of softness, warmth, and comfort. Burnett describes these changes in great detail, partly to allow readers to delight in them and partly to demonstrate Sara's skeptical, disbelieving survey of the changes around her. "In the grate there was a glowing, blazing fire," Burnett describes, "on the hob was a little brass kettle hissing and boiling; spread upon the floor was a thick, warm crimson rug; before the fire a folding-chair, unfolded, and with cushions on it; by the chair a small folding-table, unfolded, covered with a white cloth, and upon it spread small covered dishes, a cup, a saucer, a teapot; on the bed were new warm coverings and a satin-covered down quilt; at the foot a curious wadded silk robe, a pair of quilted slippers, and some books. The room of her dream seemed changed into fairyland—and it was flooded with warm light, for a bright lamp stood on the table covered with a rosy shade." These descriptions even include taste imagery: the soup Ram Dass leaves is "rich, hot," and "savory," and the tea is "delicious." By this point in the novel, both Sara and the book's readers are feeling somewhat deprived. These descriptions soothe and reenergize audiences as much as the gifts revive Sara.
