Once upon a time there lived a noble gentleman who had one dear little
daughter. Poor child! her own kind mother was dead, and her father,
who loved her very dearly, was afraid that his little girl was
sometimes lonely. So he married a grand lady who had two daughters
of her own, and who, he thought, would be kind and good to his little
one. But no sooner did the stepmother enter her new home than she
began to show her true character. Her stepdaughter was so much
prettier and sweeter than her own children, that she was jealous of
her, and gave her all the hard work of the house to do, whilst the two
proud sisters spent their time at pleasant parties and entertainments.
The only pleasure the poor child had was to spend her evenings sitting
in the chimney-corner, resting her weary limbs, and for this reason
her sisters mockingly nicknamed her "Cinderella." The sisters' fine
clothes made Cinderella feel very shabby; but, in her little torn
frock and ragged shoes, she was a thousand times more lovely than
they.
Now, it chanced that the King's son gave a grand ball, to which he
invited all the lords and ladies in the country, and, amongst the
rest, Cinderella's two sisters were asked. How pleased and excited
they were when the invitation arrived! For days they could talk of
nothing but the clothes they should wear and the grand folk they hoped
to meet.
When at last the great day arrived, Cinderella was kept running about
from early till late, decking the sisters, and dressing their hair.
"Don't you wish you were going to the ball?" said one of them.
"Indeed I do," sighed the poor little maid. The sisters burst out
laughing. "A pretty spectacle _you_ would be," they said rudely. "Go
back to your cinders--they are fit company for rags." Then, stepping
carefully into their carriage so that they might not crush their fine
clothes, they drove away to the ball.
Cinderella went back to her chimney-corner, and tried not to feel
envious, but the tears _would_ gather in the pretty eyes, and trickle
down the sorrowful little face.
"What are you crying for, child?" cried a silvery voice.
Cinderella started, and raised her eyes. Who could it be? Then in a
moment she knew--it was her fairy Godmother!
"I do so want----" began Cinderella; then her sobs stopped her.
"To go to the ball," finished the Godmother. Cinderella nodded. "Well,
leave off crying--be a good girl, and you shall go. Run quickly into
the garden, and bring the largest pumpkin you can find."
Cinderella could not imagine how a pumpkin could help her to go to the
ball, but her only thought was to obey her Godmother. In a few moments
she was back again, with a splendid pumpkin. Her Godmother scooped out
the inside--one touch of the wand, and the pumpkin was a golden coach,
lined with white satin.
"Now, godchild, quick--the mouse-trap from the pantry!"
"Here it is, Godmother," said Cinderella breathlessly.
One by one six fat sleek mice passed through the trap door. As each
appeared, a touch of the wand transformed it into a cream-colored
horse, fit for a queen.
"Now, Cinderella, can you find a coachman?"
"There is a large gray rat in the rat-trap--would he do, Godmother?"
"Run and fetch him, child, and then I can judge," So Cinderella ran to
fetch the rat, and her Godmother said he was just made for a coachman;
and I think you would have agreed with her had you seen him a moment
later, with his powdered wig and silk stockings.
Six lizards from behind the pumpkin-frame became six footmen in
splendid liveries--you would have thought they had been footmen all
their lives. Cinderella was so excited that she could scarcely speak.
"Oh! Godmother," she cried, "it is all so lovely!" Then suddenly she
thought of her shabby frock. "There is my white muslin," she said
wistfully, "if--do you think----"
But before Cinderella could realize what was happening, her
Godmother's wand tapped her lightly on the shoulder, and in place of
the shabby frock, there was a gleam of satin, silver, and pearls.
Ah! who can describe a robe made by the fairies? It was white as snow,
and as dazzling; round the hem hung a fringe of diamonds, sparkling
like dew-drops in the sunshine. The lace about the throat and arms
could only have been spun by fairy spiders. Surely it was a dream!
Cinderella put her daintily-gloved hand to her throat, and softly
touched the pearls that encircled her neck.
"Come, child," said the Godmother, "or you will be late."
As Cinderella moved, the firelight shone upon her dainty shoes.
"They are of diamonds," she said.
"No," answered her Godmother, smiling; "they are better than
that--they are of glass, made by the fairies. And now, child, go, and
enjoy yourself to your heart's content. Only remember, if you stay at
the palace one instant after midnight, your coach and servants will
vanish, and you will be the little gray Cinderella once more!"
A few moments later, the coach dashed into the royal courtyard, the
door was flung open, and Cinderella alighted. As she walked slowly up
the richly-carpeted staircase, there was a murmur of admiration, and
the King's son hastened to meet her. "Never," said he to himself,
"have I seen anyone so lovely!" He led her into the ball-room, where
the King, who was much taken with her sweet face and pretty, modest
manners, whispered to the Queen that she must surely be a foreign
Princess.
The evening passed away in a dream of delight, Cinderella dancing with
no one but the handsome young Prince, and being waited on by his own
hands at supper-time. The two sisters could not recognize their ragged
little sister in the beautiful and graceful lady to whom the Prince
paid so much attention, and felt quite pleased and flattered when she
addressed a few words to them.
Presently a clock chimed the three quarters past eleven, and,
remembering her Godmother's warning, Cinderella at once took leave of
the Prince, and, jumping into her coach, was driven rapidly home. Here
she found her Godmother waiting to hear all about the ball. "It was
_lovely_," said Cinderella; "and oh! Godmother, there is to be another
to-morrow night, and I _should_ so much like to go to it!"
"Then you shall," replied the kind fairy, and, kissing her godchild
tenderly, she vanished. When the sisters returned from the ball, they
found a sleepy little maiden sitting in the chimney-corner, waiting
for them.
"How late you are!" cried Cinderella, yawning. "Are you not very
tired?"
"Not in the least," they answered, and then they told her what a
delightful ball it had been, and how the loveliest Princess in the
world had been there, and had spoken to them, and admired their pretty
dresses.
"Who was she?" asked Cinderella slyly.
"That we cannot say," answered the sisters. "She would not tell her
name, though the Prince begged her to do so on bended knee."
"Dear sister," said Cinderella, "I, too, should like to see the
beautiful Princess. Will you not lend me your old yellow gown, that I
may go to the ball to-morrow with you?"
"What!" cried her sister angrily; "lend one of my dresses to a little
cinder-maid? Don't talk nonsense, child!"
The next night, the sisters were more particular than ever about their
attire, but at last they were dressed, and as soon as their carriage
had driven away, the Godmother appeared. Once more she touched her
godchild with her wand, and in a moment she was arrayed in a beautiful
dress that seemed as though it had been woven of moon-beams and
sunshine, so radiantly did it gleam and shimmer. She put her arms
round her Godmother's neck and kissed and thanked her. "Goodbye,
childie; enjoy yourself, but whatever you do, remember to leave
the ball before the clock strikes twelve," the Godmother said, and
Cinderella promised.
But the hours flew by so happily and so swiftly that Cinderella forgot
her promise, until she happened to look at a clock and saw that it was
on the stroke of twelve. With a cry of alarm she fled from the room,
dropping, in her haste, one of the little glass slippers; but, with
the sound of the clock strokes in her ears, she dared not wait to pick
it up. The Prince hurried after her in alarm, but when he reached the
entrance hall, the beautiful Princess had vanished, and there was no
one to be seen but a forlorn little beggar-maid creeping away into the
darkness.
Poor little Cinderella!--she hurried home through the dark streets,
weary, and overwhelmed with shame.
The fire was out when she reached her home, and there was no Godmother
waiting to receive her; but she sat down in the chimney-corner to wait
her sisters' return. When they came in they could speak of nothing but
the wonderful things that had happened at the ball.
The beautiful Princess had been there again, they said, but had
disappeared just as the clock struck twelve, and though the Prince had
searched everywhere for her, he had been unable to find her. "He was
quite beside himself with grief," said the elder sister, "for there is
no doubt he hoped to make her his bride."
Cinderella listened in silence to all they had to say, and, slipping
her hand into her pocket, felt that the one remaining glass slipper
was safe, for it was the only thing of all her grand apparel that
remained to her.
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 for ever, 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.
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