Cinderella; Or, The Little Glass Slipper, and Other Stories. Unknown
and afterward took her out to dance with him. She danced so very gracefully that they all more and more admired her. A fine collation was served up, whereof the young Prince ate not a morsel, so intently was he busied in gazing on her.
She went and sat down by her sisters, showing them a thousand civilities, giving them part of the oranges and citrons which the Prince had presented her with, which very much surprised them, for they did not know her. While Cinderella was thus amusing her sisters, she heard the clock strike eleven and three-quarters, whereupon she immediately made a courtesy to the company and hastened away as fast as she could.
Being got home, she ran to seek out her Godmother, and after having thanked her she said she could not but heartily wish she might go next day to the ball, because the King’s son had desired her.
As she was eagerly telling her Godmother what had passed at the ball her two sisters knocked at the door, which Cinderella ran and opened.
“How long you have stayed!” cried she, gaping, rubbing her eyes, and stretching herself as if she had been just waked out of her sleep. She had not, however, had any manner of inclination to sleep since they went from home.
“If thou hadst been at the ball,” said one of her sisters, “thou would’st not have been tired with it. There came thither the finest Princess, the most beautiful ever was seen with mortal eyes. She showed us a thousand civilities and gave us oranges and citrons.”
Cinderella seemed very indifferent in the matter. Indeed, she asked them the name of that Princess, but they told her they did not know it, and that the King’s son was very uneasy on her account, and would give all the world to know who she was. At this Cinderella, smiling, replied:
“She must, then, be very beautiful indeed. How happy you have been! Could not I see her? Ah! dear Miss Charlotte, do lend me your yellow suit of clothes which you wear every day.”
“Ay, to be sure,” cried Miss Charlotte; “lend my clothes to such it dirty cinder maid as thou art! I should be a fool.”
Cinderella expected well such answer and was very glad of the refusal, for she would have been sadly put to it if her sister had lent her what she asked for jestingly.
The next day the two sisters were at the ball, and so was Cinderella, but dressed more magnificently than before. The King’s son was always by her, and never ceased his compliments and kind speeches to her, to whom all this was so far from being tiresome that she quite forgot what her Godmother had recommended to her, so that she at last counted the clock striking twelve when she took it to be no more than eleven. She then rose up and fled as nimble as a deer. The Prince followed, but could not overtake her. She left behind one of her glass slippers, which the Prince took up most carefully. She got home, but quite out of breath, and in her old clothes, having nothing left her of all her finery but one of the little slippers, fellow to that she dropped. The guards at the palace gate were asked if they had not seen a Princess go out.
They said they had seen nobody go out but a young girl, very meanly dressed, and who had more of the air of a poor country girl than a gentlewoman.
When the two sisters returned from the ball Cinderella asked them if they had been well diverted and if the beautiful Princess had been there.
They told her yes, but that she hurried away immediately when the clock struck twelve, and with so much haste that she dropped one of her little glass slippers, the prettiest in the world, which the King’s son had taken up; that he had done nothing but look at her all the time at the ball, and that most certainly he was very much in love with the beautiful person who owned the glass slipper.
What they said was very true, for a few days after the King’s son caused it to be proclaimed, by sound of trumpet, that he would marry her whose foot this slipper would just fit. They whom he employed began to try it upon the Princesses, then the Duchesses and all the Court, but in vain. It was brought to the two sisters, who did all they possibly could to thrust their feet into the slipper, but they could not effect it.
On the following morning there was a great noise of trumpets and drums, and a procession passed through the town, at the head of which rode the King’s son. Behind him came a herald, bearing a velvet cushion, upon which rested a little glass slipper. The herald blew a blast upon the trumpet, and then read a proclamation saying that the King’s son would wed any lady in the land who could fit the slipper upon her foot, if she could produce another to match it.
Of course, the sisters tried to squeeze their feet into the slipper, but it was of no use—they were much too large. Then Cinderella shyly begged that she might try. How the sisters laughed with scorn when the Prince knelt to fit the slipper on the cinder maid’s foot; but what was their surprise when it slipped on with the greatest ease, and the next moment Cinderella produced the other from her pocket! Once more she stood in the slippers, and once more the sisters saw before them the lovely Princess who was to be the Prince’s bride. For at the touch of the magic shoes the little gray frock disappeared forever, and in place of it she wore the beautiful robe the fairy Godmother had given to her.
The sisters hung their heads with sorrow and vexation; but kind little Cinderella put her arms round their necks, kissed them, and forgave them for all their unkindness, so that they could not help but love her.
The Prince could not bear to part from his little love again, so he carried her back to the palace in his grand coach, and they were married that very day. Cinderella’s stepsisters were present at the feast, but in the place of honor sat the fairy Godmother.
So the poor little cinder maid married the Prince, and in time they came to be King and Queen, and lived happily ever after.
FANNY’S TELEPHONE ORDER
Little Fanny Desmond was a dear child, and, like a good many other little children, she liked to do whatever she saw the grown people do.
She would listen with great interest when she saw her mother use the telephone. She was especially surprised when her mother ordered things, and later in the day they would be brought to the house.
“I wish I had a telephone of my own,” she said to her papa. “Mama just puts her mouth up to that funny thing, and gets whatever she asks for. Yesterday she asked somebody to send us ice-cream for dinner, and sure enough, it came.”
Papa laughed. “It does seem a very convenient thing,” he said. “I will try to arrange one for you.” So papa took a horn which had been put away in a closet and hung it up where Fanny could talk into it. “There, that shall be your own private telephone,” he said.
“Now, shall I get whatever I ask for?” said Fanny.
“Not if you ask for impossible things,” replied her papa.
“But what are impossible things?” asked Fanny.
“Well,” laughed papa, “I think if you should ask for the moon you would not get it.”
“But I don’t want the moon,” said Fanny.
“Ask for something before I go down-town,” said papa.
Fanny thought a moment, and then spoke up quite distinctly:
“Please send me some peppermints, and some new shoes for my doll, and a bunch of pansies for my mama, and a new bicycle for my papa, and—and—that’s all this time. Good-bye.”
“That’s a very good order,” said her papa, “but kiss me good-bye, for I must be off.”
About half an hour later the front door-bell rang. Very soon the maid appeared with a package directed to Miss Fanny Desmond. In great excitement, Fanny opened it. It was a box of peppermints. The child’s delight was great, but when, in another half hour, there came a bundle which proved to be a new pair of shoes for her doll, she was too happy for words. But that surprise was hardly over when another package was brought her. She opened it in great excitement, and behold there was a bunch of beautiful pansies.
“They are for you, mama,” she cried, “and now everything has come but papa’s new bicycle.”
Just then she looked out of the window, and there was her papa coming up the drive on a fine new wheel.