[4] This film was the third of three in which Shirley Temple and Cesar Romero appeared together, following Wee Willie Winkie (1937) and Ali Baba Goes to Town (1937).

[5] Although it maintained the novel's Victorian London setting, the film introduced several new characters and storylines and used the Second Boer War and the siege of Mafeking as a backdrop to the action.

[6] Captain Crewe, called to fight in the Second Boer War, has to leave his daughter Sara (Shirley Temple) with her pony at Miss Minchin's School for Girls.

Sara has him to tea before he ships out, using the excuse to convince Miss Minchin but she catches Geoffrey and Rose together, not allowing them to say a proper goodbye.

In her new role, Sara gets hungrier and more tired from her arduous duties and sneaks off to veterans' hospitals, convinced her father is not dead.

After a string of episodes, including a performance of the film's most well-known song "Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road" with Bertie, Sara is at her wits end.

Things start to worsen, when Sara gets into an argument with Miss Minchin, who cannot tolerate her faith in believing her father is still alive and tries forcing her to face reality.

She discovers blankets, food and other items that Ram Dass and Lord Wickham left Sara, assumes they are stolen and locks her in the attic, calling the police.

Source:[7] After filming was completed, Daryl Zanuck of Fox requested additional scenes shot totalling $300,000 pushing the cost over $1 million.

[1] As part of the preparation for the film, great pains were taken to make sure every aspect of it was true to 1899 and England, the time period and setting of the story.

Temple, however, who was angry about the attention received by Sybil Jason in a previous scene, wanted to repeat it after the first take, likely just to "let off steam", but when she asked director Lang for a second ash-dump take, he said it was not necessary.

[3] Benjamin R. Crisler, who reviewed the film when it opened in New York City at Roxy Theatre, said: "With any other child on earth, it is amazing to reflect, The Little Princess would stand out as one of the most glaring exhibits of pure hokum in screen history; with Mistress Temple, it may very well be, as Mr. Zanuck unflinchingly proclaims, the greatest picture with which Mr. Zanuck has ever been associated".Janet Maslin, writing for The New York Times 44 years later, on the occasion of its VHS release by Media Home Entertainment, called it "antiquated enough to seem charming" and concludes that "[t]he movie's music, its corny but likable histrionics and its rousing patriotism (it was made in 1939) culminate in a happy ending sure to make even grown-up viewers cry".