for it I shall wear my cloak with the golden flowers and my necklace of
diamonds, which are not so bad.'
They sent for a good hairdresser to arrange their double-frilled caps,
and bought patches at the best shop.
They summoned Cinderella and asked her advice, for she had good taste.
Cinderella gave them the best possible suggestions, and even offered to
dress their hair, to which they gladly agreed.
While she was thus occupied they said:
'Cinderella, would you not like to go to the ball?'
'Ah, but you fine young ladies are laughing at me. It would be no place
for me.'
[Illustration: '_The haughtiest, proudest woman that had ever been
seen_']
'That is very true, people would laugh to see a cinder-slut in the
ballroom.'
Any one else but Cinderella would have done their hair amiss, but she
was good-natured, and she finished them off to perfection. They were so
excited in their glee that for nearly two days they ate nothing. They
broke more than a dozen laces through drawing their stays tight in order
to make their waists more slender, and they were perpetually in front of
a mirror.
At last the happy day arrived. Away they went, Cinderella watching them
as long as she could keep them in sight. When she could no longer see
them she began to cry. Her godmother found her in tears, and asked what
was troubling her.
'I should like--I should like----'
She was crying so bitterly that she could not finish the sentence.
Said her godmother, who was a fairy:
'You would like to go to the ball, would you not?'
'Ah, yes,' said Cinderella, sighing.
'Well, well,' said her godmother, 'promise to be a good girl and I will
arrange for you to go.'
She took Cinderella into her room and said:
'Go into the garden and bring me a pumpkin.'
Cinderella went at once and gathered the finest that she could find.
This she brought to her godmother, wondering how a pumpkin could help in
taking her to the ball.
Her godmother scooped it out, and when only the rind was left, struck it
with her wand. Instantly the pumpkin was changed into a beautiful coach,
gilded all over.
Then she went and looked in the mouse-trap, where she found six mice
all alive. She told Cinderella to lift the door of the mouse-trap a
little, and as each mouse came out she gave it a tap with her wand,
whereupon it was transformed into a fine horse. So that here was a fine
team of six dappled mouse-grey horses.
But she was puzzled to know how to provide a coachman.
'I will go and see,' said Cinderella, 'if there is not a rat in the
rat-trap. We could make a coachman of him.'
'Quite right,' said her godmother, 'go and see.'
Cinderella brought in the rat-trap, which contained three big rats. The
fairy chose one specially on account of his elegant whiskers.
As soon as she had touched him he turned into a fat coachman with the
finest moustachios that ever were seen.
'Now go into the garden and bring me the six lizards which you will find
behind the water-butt.'
No sooner had they been brought than the godmother turned them into six
lackeys, who at once climbed up behind the coach in their braided
liveries, and hung on there as if they had never done anything else all
their lives.
Then said the fairy godmother:
'Well, there you have the means of going to the ball. Are you
satisfied?'
'Oh, yes, but am I to go like this in my ugly clothes?'
Her godmother merely touched her with her wand, and on the instant her
clothes were changed into garments of gold and silver cloth, bedecked
with jewels. After that her godmother gave her a pair of glass slippers,
the prettiest in the world.
[Illustration: '_Her godmother found her in tears_']
Thus altered, she entered the coach. Her godmother bade her not to stay
beyond midnight whatever happened, warning her that if she remained
at the ball a moment longer, her coach would again become a pumpkin, her
horses mice, and her lackeys lizards, while her old clothes would
reappear upon her once more.
She promised her godmother that she would not fail to leave the ball
before midnight, and away she went, beside herself with delight.
[Illustration: '_Away she went_']
The king's son, when he was told of the arrival of a great princess whom
nobody knew, went forth to receive her. He handed her down from the
coach, and led her into the hall where the company was assembled. At
once there fell a great silence. The dancers stopped, the violins played
no more, so rapt was the attention which everybody bestowed upon the
superb beauty of the unknown guest. Everywhere could be heard in
confused whispers:
'Oh, how beautiful she is!'
The king, old man as he was, could not take his eyes off her, and
whispered to the queen that it was many a long day since he had seen any
one so beautiful and charming.
All the ladies were eager to scrutinise her clothes and the dressing of
her hair, being determined to copy them on the morrow, provided they
could find materials so fine, and tailors so clever.
The king's son placed her in the seat of honour, and at once begged the
privilege of being her partner in a dance. Such was the grace with which
she danced that the admiration of all was increased.
A magnificent supper was served, but the young prince could eat nothing,
so taken up was he with watching her. She went and sat beside her
sisters, and bestowed numberless attentions upon them. She made them
share with her the oranges and lemons which the king had given
her--greatly to their astonishment, for they did not recognise her.
While they were talking, Cinderella heard the clock strike a quarter to
twelve. She at once made a profound curtsey to the company, and departed
as quickly as she could.
As soon as she was home again she sought out her godmother, and having
thanked her, declared that she wished to go upon the morrow once more to
the ball, because the king's son had invited her.
While she was busy telling her godmother all that had happened at the
ball, her two sisters knocked at the door. Cinderella let them in.
'What a long time you have been in coming!' she declared, rubbing her
eyes and stretching herself as if she had only just awakened. In real
truth she had not for a moment wished to sleep since they had left.
[Illustration: '_She rose and fled as nimbly as a fawn_']
'If you had been at the ball,' said one of the sisters, 'you would not
be feeling weary. There came a most beautiful princess, the most
beautiful that has ever been seen, and she bestowed numberless
attentions upon us, and gave us her oranges and lemons.'
Cinderella was overjoyed. She asked them the name of the princess, but
they replied that no one knew it, and that the king's son was so
distressed that he would give anything in the world to know who she was.
Cinderella smiled, and said she must have been beautiful indeed.
'Oh, how lucky you are. Could I not manage to see her? Oh, please,
Javotte, lend me the yellow dress which you wear every day.'
'Indeed!' said Javotte, 'that is a fine idea. Lend my dress to a grubby
cinder-slut like you--you must think me mad!'
Cinderella had expected this refusal. She was in no way upset, for she
would have been very greatly embarrassed had her sister been willing to
lend the dress.
The next day the two sisters went to the ball, and so did Cinderella,
even more splendidly attired than the first time.
The king's son was always at her elbow, and paid her endless
compliments.
The young girl enjoyed herself so much that she forgot her godmother's
bidding completely, and when the first stroke of midnight fell upon her
ears, she thought it was no more than eleven o'clock.
She rose and fled as nimbly as a fawn. The prince followed her, but
could not catch her. She let fall one of her glass slippers, however,
and this the prince picked up with tender care.
When Cinderella reached home she was out of breath, without coach,
without lackeys, and in her shabby clothes. Nothing remained of all her
splendid clothes save one of the little slippers, the fellow to the one
which she had let fall.
Inquiries were made of the palace doorkeepers as to whether they had
seen a princess go out, but they declared they had seen no one leave
except a young girl, very ill-clad, who looked more like a peasant than
a young lady.
When her two sisters returned from the ball, Cinderella asked them if
they had again enjoyed themselves, and if the beautiful lady had been
there. They told her that she was present, but had fled away when
midnight sounded, and in such haste that she had let fall one of her
little glass slippers, the prettiest thing in the world. They added that
the king's son, who picked it up, had done nothing but gaze at it for
the rest of the ball, from which it was plain that he was deeply in love
with its beautiful owner.
They spoke the truth. A few days later, the king's son caused a
proclamation to be made by trumpeters, that he would take for wife the
owner of the foot which the slipper would fit.
They tried it first on the princesses, then on the duchesses and the
whole of the Court, but in vain. Presently they brought it to the home
of the two sisters, who did all they could to squeeze a foot into the
slipper. This, however, they could not manage.
Cinderella was looking on and recognised her slipper:
'Let me see,' she cried, laughingly, 'if it will not fit me.'
[Illustration: '_They tried it first on the princesses_']
Her sisters burst out laughing, and began to gibe at her, but the
equerry who was trying on the slipper looked closely at Cinderella.
Observing that she was very beautiful he declared that the claim was
quite a fair one, and that his orders were to try the slipper on every
maiden. He bade Cinderella sit down, and on putting the slipper to her
little foot he perceived that the latter slid in without trouble, and
was moulded to its shape like wax.
Great was the astonishment of the two sisters at this, and greater still
when Cinderella drew from her pocket the other little slipper. This she
likewise drew on.
At that very moment her godmother appeared on the scene. She gave a tap
with her wand to Cinderella's clothes, and transformed them into a dress
even more magnificent than her previous ones.
The two sisters recognised her for the beautiful person whom they had
seen at the ball, and threw themselves at her feet, begging her pardon
for all the ill-treatment she had suffered at their hands.
Cinderella raised them, and declaring as she embraced them that she
pardoned them with all her heart, bade them to love her well in future.
She was taken to the palace of the young prince in all her new array. He
found her more beautiful than ever, and was married to her a few days
afterwards.
Cinderella was as good as she was beautiful. She set aside apartments in
the palace for her two sisters, and married them the very same day to
two gentlemen of high rank about the Court.
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD
Once upon a time there was a little village girl, the prettiest that had
ever been seen. Her mother doted on her. Her grandmother was even
fonder, and made her a little red hood, which became her so well that
everywhere she went by the name of Little Red Riding Hood.
One day her mother, who had just made and baked some cakes, said to her:
'Go and see how your grandmother is, for I have been told that she is
ill. Take her a cake and this little pot of butter.'
Little Red Riding Hood set off at once for the house of her grandmother,
who lived in another village.
On her way through a wood she met old Father Wolf. He would have very
much liked to eat her, but dared not do so on account of some
wood-cutters who were in the forest. He asked her where she was going.
The poor child, not knowing that it was dangerous to stop and listen to
a wolf, said:
'I am going to see my grandmother, and am taking her a cake and a pot of
butter which my mother has sent to her.'
'Does she live far away?' asked the Wolf.
'Oh yes,' replied Little Red Riding Hood; 'it is yonder by the mill
which you can see right below there, and it is the first house in the
village.'
[Illustration: _Little Red Riding Hood_]
'Well now,' said the Wolf, 'I think I shall go and see her too. I will
go by this path, and you by that path, and we will see who gets there
first.'
[Illustration: '_She met old Father Wolf_']
The Wolf set off running with all his might by the shorter road, and the
little girl continued on her way by the longer road. As she went she
amused herself by gathering nuts, running after the butterflies, and
making nosegays of the wild flowers which she found.
The Wolf was not long in reaching the grandmother's house.
He knocked. _Toc Toc._
'Who is there?'
'It is your little daughter, Red Riding Hood,' said the Wolf, disguising
his voice, 'and I bring you a cake and a little pot of butter as a
present from my mother.'
[Illustration: '_Making nosegays of the wild flowers_']
The worthy grandmother was in bed, not being very well, and cried out to
him:
'Pull out the peg and the latch will fall.'
The Wolf drew out the peg and the door flew open. Then he sprang upon
the poor old lady and ate her up in less than no time, for he had been
more than three days without food.
After that he shut the door, lay down in the grandmother's bed, and
waited for Little Red Riding Hood.
Presently she came and knocked. _Toc Toc._
'Who is there?'
Now Little Red Riding Hood on hearing the Wolf's gruff voice was at
first frightened, but thinking that her grandmother had a bad cold, she
replied:
'It is your little daughter, Red Riding Hood, and I bring you a cake and
a little pot of butter from my mother.'
[Illustration: '_Come up on the bed with me_']
Softening his voice, the Wolf called out to her:
'Pull out the peg and the latch will fall.'
Little Red Riding Hood drew out the peg and the door flew open.
When he saw her enter, the Wolf hid himself in the bed beneath the
counterpane.
'Put the cake and the little pot of butter on the bin,' he said, 'and
come up on the bed with me.'
Little Red Riding Hood took off her clothes, but when she climbed up on
the bed she was astonished to see how her grandmother looked in her
nightgown.
'Grandmother dear!' she exclaimed, 'what big arms you have!'
'The better to embrace you, my child!'
'Grandmother dear, what big legs you have!'
'The better to run with, my child!'
'Grandmother dear, what big ears you have!'
'The better to hear with, my child!'
'Grandmother dear, what big eyes you have!'
'The better to see with, my child!'
'Grandmother dear, what big teeth you have!'
'The better to eat you with!'
With these words the wicked Wolf leapt upon Little Red Riding Hood and
gobbled her up.
[Illustration: "'YOU MUST DIE, MADAM,' HE SAID."]
BLUE BEARD
Once upon a time there was a man who owned splendid town and country
houses, gold and silver plate, tapestries and coaches gilt all over. But
the poor fellow had a blue beard, and this made him so ugly and
frightful that there was not a woman or girl who did not run away at
sight of him.
Amongst his neighbours was a lady of high degree who had two
surpassingly beautiful daughters. He asked for the hand of one of these
in marriage, leaving it to their mother to choose which should be
bestowed upon him. Both girls, however, raised objections, and his offer
was bandied from one to the other, neither being able to bring herself
to accept a man with a blue beard. Another reason for their distaste was
the fact that he had already married several wives, and no one knew what
had become of them.
In order that they might become better acquainted, Blue Beard invited
the two girls, with their mother and three or four of their best
friends, to meet a party of young men from the neighbourhood at one of
his country houses. Here they spent eight whole days, and throughout
their stay there was a constant round of picnics, hunting and fishing
expeditions, dances, dinners, and luncheons; and they never slept at
all, through spending all the night in playing merry pranks upon each
other. In short, everything went so gaily that the younger daughter
began to think the master of the house had not so very blue a beard
after all, and that he was an exceedingly agreeable man. As soon as the
party returned to town their marriage took place.
At the end of a month Blue Beard informed his wife that important
business obliged him to make a journey into a distant part of the
country, which would occupy at least six weeks. He begged her to amuse
herself well during his absence, and suggested that she should invite
some of her friends and take them, if she liked, to the country. He was
particularly anxious that she should enjoy herself thoroughly.
'Here,' he said, 'are the keys of the two large storerooms, and here is
the one that locks up the gold and silver plate which is not in everyday
use. This key belongs to the strong-boxes where my gold and silver is
kept, this to the caskets containing my jewels; while here you have the
master-key which gives admittance to all the apartments. As regards this
little key, it is the key of the small room at the end of the long
passage on the lower floor. You may open everything, you may go
everywhere, but I forbid you to enter this little room. And I forbid you
so seriously that if you were indeed to open the door, I should be so
angry that I might do anything.'
She promised to follow out these instructions exactly, and after
embracing her, Blue Beard steps into his coach and is off upon his
journey.
[Illustration: _Blue Beard_]
Her neighbours and friends did not wait to be invited before coming to
call upon the young bride, so great was their eagerness to see the
splendours of her house. They had not dared to venture while her
husband was there, for his blue beard frightened them. But in less than
no time there they were, running in and out of the rooms, the closets,
and the wardrobes, each of which was finer than the last. Presently they
went upstairs to the storerooms, and there they could not admire enough
the profusion and magnificence of the tapestries, beds, sofas, cabinets,
tables, and stands. There were mirrors in which they could view
themselves from top to toe, some with frames of plate glass, others with
frames of silver and gilt lacquer, that were the most superb and
beautiful things that had ever been seen. They were loud and persistent
in their envy of their friend's good fortune. She, on the other hand,
derived little amusement from the sight of all these riches, the reason
being that she was impatient to go and inspect the little room on the
lower floor.
So overcome with curiosity was she that, without reflecting upon the
discourtesy of leaving her guests, she ran down a private staircase, so
precipitately that twice or thrice she nearly broke her neck, and so
reached the door of the little room. There she paused for a while,
thinking of the prohibition which her husband had made, and reflecting
that harm might come to her as a result of disobedience. But the
temptation was so great that she could not conquer it. Taking the little
key, with a trembling hand she opened the door of the room.
At first she saw nothing, for the windows were closed, but after a few
moments she perceived dimly that the floor was entirely covered with
clotted blood, and that in this were reflected the dead bodies of
several women that hung along the walls. These were all the wives of
Blue Beard, whose throats he had cut, one after another.
She thought to die of terror, and the key of the room, which she had
just withdrawn from the lock, fell from her hand.
When she had somewhat regained her senses, she picked up the key, closed
the door, and went up to her chamber to compose herself a little. But
this she could not do, for her nerves were too shaken. Noticing that the
key of the little room was stained with blood, she wiped it two or three
times. But the blood did not go. She washed it well, and even rubbed it
with sand and grit. Always the blood remained. For the key was
bewitched, and there was no means of cleaning it completely. When the
blood was removed from one side, it reappeared on the other.
[Illustration: '_She washed it well_']
Blue Beard returned from his journey that very evening. He had received
some letters on the way, he said, from which he learned that the
business upon which he had set forth had just been concluded to his
satisfaction. His wife did everything she could to make it appear
that she was delighted by his speedy return.
[Illustration: _Sister Anne_]
On the morrow he demanded the keys. She gave them to him, but with so
trembling a hand that he guessed at once what had happened.
'How comes it,' he said to her, 'that the key of the little room is not
with the others?'
'I must have left it upstairs upon my table,' she said.
'Do not fail to bring it to me presently,' said Blue Beard.
After several delays the key had to be brought. Blue Beard examined it,
and addressed his wife.
'Why is there blood on this key?'
'I do not know at all,' replied the poor woman, paler than death.
'You do not know at all?' exclaimed Blue Beard; 'I know well enough. You
wanted to enter the little room! Well, madam, enter it you shall--you
shall go and take your place among the ladies you have seen there.'
She threw herself at her husband's feet, asking his pardon with tears,
and with all the signs of a true repentance for her disobedience. She
would have softened a rock, in her beauty and distress, but Blue Beard
had a heart harder than any stone.
'You must die, madam,' he said; 'and at once.'
'Since I must die,' she replied, gazing at him with eyes that were wet
with tears, 'give me a little time to say my prayers.'
'I give you one quarter of an hour,' replied Blue Beard, 'but not a
moment longer.'
When the poor girl was alone, she called her sister to her and said:
'Sister Anne'--for that was her name--'go up, I implore you, to the top
of the tower, and see if my brothers are not approaching. They promised
that they would come and visit me to-day. If you see them, make signs to
them to hasten.'
Sister Anne went up to the top of the tower, and the poor unhappy girl
cried out to her from time to time:
'Anne, Sister Anne, do you see nothing coming?'
And Sister Anne replied:
'I see nought but dust in the sun and the green grass growing.'
Presently Blue Beard, grasping a great cutlass, cried out at the top of
his voice:
'Come down quickly, or I shall come upstairs myself.'
'Oh please, one moment more,' called out his wife.
And at the same moment she cried in a whisper:
'Anne, Sister Anne, do you see nothing coming?'
'I see nought but dust in the sun and the green grass growing.'
'Come down at once, I say,' shouted Blue Beard, 'or I will come upstairs
myself.'
'I am coming,' replied his wife.
Then she called:
'Anne, Sister Anne, do you see nothing coming?'
'I see,' replied Sister Anne, 'a great cloud of dust which comes this
way.'
'Is it my brothers?'
'Alas, sister, no; it is but a flock of sheep.'
'Do you refuse to come down?' roared Blue Beard.
[Illustration: '_Brandishing the cutlass aloft_']
'One little moment more,' exclaimed his wife.
Once more she cried:
'Anne, Sister Anne, do you see nothing coming?'
'I see,' replied her sister, 'two horsemen who come this way, but they
are as yet a long way off.... Heaven be praised,' she exclaimed a moment
later, 'they are my brothers.... I am signalling to them all I can to
hasten.'
Blue Beard let forth so mighty a shout that the whole house shook. The
poor wife went down and cast herself at his feet, all dishevelled and in
tears.
'That avails you nothing,' said Blue Beard; 'you must die.'
Seizing her by the hair with one hand, and with the other brandishing
the cutlass aloft, he made as if to cut off her head.
The poor woman, turning towards him and fixing a dying gaze upon him,
begged for a brief moment in which to collect her thoughts.
'No! no!' he cried; 'commend your soul to Heaven.' And raising his
arm----
At this very moment there came so loud a knocking at the gate that Blue
Beard stopped short. The gate was opened, and two horsemen dashed in,
who drew their swords and rode straight at Blue Beard. The latter
recognised them as the brothers of his wife--one of them a dragoon, and
the other a musketeer--and fled instantly in an effort to escape. But
the two brothers were so close upon him that they caught him ere he
could gain the first flight of steps. They plunged their swords through
his body and left him dead. The poor woman was nearly as dead as her
husband, and had not the strength to rise and embrace her brothers.