for being back so late. "I am sorry, mother," said she, "to have been
out so long," and as she spoke, there fell from her mouth two roses, two
pearls, and two large diamonds. The mother gazed at her in astonishment.
"What do I see!" she exclaimed, "Pearls and diamonds seem to be dropping
from her mouth! How is this, my daughter?"--it was the first time she
had called her _daughter_. The poor child related in all simplicity what
had happened, letting fall quantities of diamonds in the course of her
narrative. "I must certainly send my other daughter there," said the
mother. "Look, Fanchon, see what falls from your sister's mouth when she
speaks! Would you not be glad to receive a similar gift? All you have to
do, is to go and fetch water from the spring, and if an old woman asks
you for some to drink, to give it her nicely and politely." "I should
like to see myself going to the spring," answered the rude, cross girl.
"I insist on your going," rejoined the mother, "and that at once."
[Illustration: '_She gave it to the Woman._']
The elder girl went off, still grumbling; with her she took the
handsomest silver bottle she could find in the house.
She had no sooner arrived at the spring, than she saw a lady
magnificently dressed walking towards her from the wood, who approached
and asked for some water to drink. It was the same fairy who had
appeared to the sister, but she had now put on the airs and apparel of a
princess, as she wished to see how far this girl's rudeness would go.
"Do you think I came here just to draw water for you?" answered the
arrogant and unmannerly girl; "I have, of course, brought this silver
bottle on purpose for madam to drink from! Well, all I have to say
is--drink from it if you like."
"You are scarcely polite," said the fairy, without losing her temper;
"however, as you are so disobliging, I confer this gift upon you, that
with every word you speak, a snake or a toad shall fall from your
mouth."
Directly her mother caught sight of her, she called out, "Well, my
daughter!" "Well, my mother!" replied the ill-tempered girl, throwing
out as she spoke two vipers and two toads. "Alack!" cried the mother,
"what do I see? This is her sister's doing, but I will pay her out for
it," and, so saying, she ran towards the younger girl with intent to
beat her. The unhappy girl fled from the house, and went and hid herself
in a neighbouring forest. The King's son, who was returning from
hunting, met her, and seeing how beautiful she was, asked her what she
was doing there all alone, and why she was crying. "Alas! sir, my
mother has driven me from home." The King's son, seeing five or six
pearls and as many diamonds, falling from her mouth as she spoke, asked
her to explain how this was, and she told him all her tale. The King's
son fell in love with her, and thinking that such a gift as she
possessed was worth more than any ordinary dower brought by another, he
carried her off to his father's palace, and there married her.
As for her sister, she made herself so hated, that her own mother drove
her from the house. The miserable girl, having gone about in vain trying
to find someone who would take her in, crept away into the corner of a
wood, and there died.
Of higher worth are gentle words
Than diamonds or gold,
And even o'er the minds of men
A great power they hold.
* * * * *
It costs some pains to be polite,
And needs some kindly thought,
But soon or late, as here you see,
Reward will come unsought.
CINDERELLA; OR, THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER
Once upon a time there was a nobleman, who took for a second wife the
haughtiest and proudest woman that had ever been seen. She had two
daughters of the same temper, and who resembled her in everything. The
husband, on his side, had a daughter, of unexampled gentleness and
goodness. She inherited these qualities from her mother, who had been
the best creature in the world.
The wedding was hardly over before the stepmother's ill-humour broke
out. She could not endure the young girl, whose good qualities made her
own daughters appear still more detestable. She put her to do all the
most menial work in the house. It was she who washed up the plates and
dishes, and cleaned the stairs; who scrubbed the stepmother's room, and
those of her daughters. She slept in a garret at the top of the house,
on a wretched straw mattress, while her sisters occupied rooms with
inlaid floors, and had the latest fashioned beds, and mirrors in which
they could see themselves from head to foot. The poor girl bore
everything with patience, and did not dare complain to her father, who
would only have scolded her, as he was entirely governed by his wife.
When she had done her work, she was in the habit of going into the
chimney-corner and sitting down amongst the cinders, which caused her to
be nicknamed Cindertail by the household in general. The second
daughter, however, who was not quite so rude as her sister, called her
Cinderella. Nevertheless, Cinderella in her shabby clothes, still looked
a thousand times more beautiful than her sisters, although so
magnificently dressed.
It happened that the King's son gave a ball, to which he invited
everyone of position. Our two fine ladies were among those who received
an invitation, for they made a great show in the neighbourhood. They
were now in great delight, and very busy choosing the most becoming
gowns and head-dresses. A new mortification for poor Cinderella, for it
was she who had to iron her sisters' fine linen, and goffer their
ruffles. No one talked of anything but of the style in which they were
to be dressed. "I," said the eldest, "will wear my red velvet dress, and
my English point-lace trimmings." "I," said the youngest, "shall only
wear my usual petticoat; but, to make up for that, I shall put on my
gold-flowered cloak, and my clasp of diamonds, which are none of the
least valuable." They sent for a first-rate milliner, that their caps
might be made to fashion, and they bought their patches from the best
maker. They called Cinderella to give them her opinion, for her taste
was excellent. Cinderella gave them the best advice in the world, and
even offered to dress their hair for them, which they were very willing
she should do.
Whilst she was busy with the hairdressing, they said to her,
"Cinderella, should you be very glad to go to the ball?"
"Alas! you only make fun of me; such a thing would not be suitable for
me at all."
"You are right; they would indeed laugh to see a Cindertail at the
ball!"
Any other than Cinderella would have dressed their hair awry, but she
had a good disposition, and arranged it for both of them to perfection.
They could eat nothing for nearly two days, so transported were they
with joy. More than a dozen laces were broken in making their waists as
small as possible, and they were continually before their
looking-glasses. At last the happy day arrived. They set off, and
Cinderella followed them with her eyes as long as she could. When they
were out of sight she began to cry. Her godmother, who saw her all in
tears, asked her what was the matter. "I should so like--I should so
like--" she sobbed so violently that she could not finish the sentence.
"You would so like to go to the ball, is not that it?"
"Alas! yes," said Cinderella, sighing.
"Well, if you will be a good girl, I will undertake that you shall go."
She took her into her room, and said to her, "Go into the garden and
bring me a pumpkin." Cinderella went at once, gathered the finest she
could find, and brought it to her godmother, wondering the while how a
pumpkin could enable her to go to the ball. Her godmother scooped it
out, and, having left nothing but the rind, struck it with her wand,
and the pumpkin was immediately changed into a beautiful coach, gilt all
over. She then went and looked into the mouse-trap, where she found six
mice, all alive. She told Cinderella to lift the door of the mouse-trap
a little, and to each mouse, as it ran out, she gave a tap with her
wand, and the mouse was immediately changed into a fine horse, so that
at last there stood ready a handsome train of six horses, of a beautiful
dappled mouse-grey colour. As she was in some difficulty as to what she
could take to turn into a coachman, Cinderella said, "I will go and see
if there is not a rat in the rat-trap; we will make a coachman of him."
"You are right," said her godmother, "go and see."
Cinderella brought her the rat-trap, in which there were three large
rats. The fairy chose one from the three on account of its ample beard,
and having touched it, it was changed into a fat coachman, with the
finest whiskers that ever were seen. She then said, "Go into the garden,
and there, behind the watering-pot, you will find six lizards, bring
them to me." Cinderella had no sooner brought them than the godmother
changed them into six footmen, with their liveries all covered with
lace, who immediately jumped up behind the coach, and hung on to it as
if they had done nothing else all their lives. The fairy then said to
Cinderella, "Well, there is something in which to go to the ball; are
you not well pleased?"
[Illustration: '_The King's son gave her his hand._' _Cinderella._]
"Yes, but am I to go in these dirty old clothes?" Her godmother touched
her lightly with her wand, and in the same instant her dress was changed
into one of gold and silver, covered with precious stones. She then gave
her a pair of glass slippers, the prettiest in the world. When she was
thus attired, she got into the coach; but her godmother told her, above
all things, not to stay past midnight--warning her, that if she remained
at the ball a minute longer, her coach would again become a pumpkin, her
horses, mice, her footmen, lizards, and her clothes turn again into her
old ones. She promised her godmother that she would not fail to leave
the ball before midnight, and drove off, almost out of her mind with
joy.
The King's son, who was informed that a grand Princess had arrived whom
nobody knew, ran to receive her. He handed her out of the coach and led
her into the hall, where the guests were assembled. There was
immediately a dead silence; the dancing stopped, and the fiddlers ceased
to play, so engaged did everyone become in gazing upon the wonderful
beauty of the unknown lady. Nothing was heard but a general murmur of
"Oh! how lovely she is!" The King himself, old as he was, could not take
his eyes from her, and observed to the Queen, that it was a long time
since he had seen so lovely and amiable a person. All the ladies were
intently occupied in examining her head-dress and her clothes, that they
might order some like them the very next day, provided that they might
be able to find materials as costly, and work-people sufficiently clever
to make them up.
The King's son conducted her to the most honourable seat, and then led
her out to dance. She danced so gracefully that everybody's admiration
of her was increased. A very grand supper was served, of which the
Prince ate not a morsel, so absorbed was he in the contemplation of her
beauty. She seated herself beside her sisters, and showed them a
thousand civilities. She shared with them the oranges and citrons which
the Prince had given her, at which they were greatly surprised, for she
appeared a perfect stranger to them. While they were thus talking
together, Cinderella heard the clock strike the three quarters past
eleven; she at once made a profound curtsey to the company, and left as
quickly as she could. As soon as she had reached home, she went to find
her godmother, and after having thanked her, said she much wished to go
to the ball again next day, because the King's son had invited her. She
was telling her godmother all that had passed at the ball, when the two
sisters knocked at the door. Cinderella went and opened it. "How late
you are!" said she to them, yawning, rubbing her eyes, and then
stretching herself as if she had but just awoke, although she had had no
inclination to sleep since she parted from them. "If you had been at the
ball," said one of her sisters to her, "you would not have been weary of
it. There came to it the most beautiful princess--the most beautiful
that ever was seen; she paid us many attentions, and gave us oranges and
citrons." Cinderella was beside herself with delight. She asked them the
name of the Princess, but they replied that nobody knew her, that the
King's son was much puzzled about it, and that he would give everything
in the world to know who she was. Cinderella smiled, and said, "She was
very lovely, then? How fortunate you are! Could not I get a sight of
her? Alas! Miss Javotte, lend me the yellow gown you wear every day."
"Truly," said Miss Javotte, "I like that! Lend one's gown to a dirty
Cindertail like you! I should be mad indeed!" Cinderella fully expected
this refusal, and was rejoiced at it, for she would not have known what
to do if her sister had lent her the gown.
The next day the sisters went again to the ball, and Cinderella also,
but still more splendidly dressed than before. The King's son never left
her side, or ceased saying tender things to her. Cinderella found the
evening pass very pleasantly, and forgot her godmother's warning, so
that she heard the clock begin to strike twelve while still thinking
that it was not yet eleven. She rose and fled as lightly as a fawn. The
Prince followed her, but could not overtake her. She dropped one of her
glass slippers, which the Prince carefully picked up. Cinderella reached
home almost breathless, without coach or footmen, and in her shabby
clothes, with nothing remaining of her finery but one of her little
slippers, the fellow of that which she had dropped. The guards at the
palace gate were asked if they had not seen a Princess pass out; they
answered that they had seen no one pass but a poorly-dressed girl, who
had more the appearance of a peasant than of a lady. When the two
sisters returned from the ball, Cinderella asked them if they had been
as much entertained as before, and if the beautiful lady had been
present. They said yes, but that she had fled as soon as it had struck
twelve, and in such haste, that she had dropped one of her little glass
slippers, the prettiest in the world; that the King's son had picked it
up, and had done nothing but gaze upon it during the remainder of the
evening; and that, undoubtedly, he was very much in love with the
beautiful person to whom the little slipper belonged. They spoke the
truth; for a few days afterwards the King's son caused it to be
proclaimed by sound of trumpet that he would marry her whose foot would
exactly fit the slipper. They began by trying it on the princesses, then
on the duchesses, and so on throughout the Court; but in vain. It was
taken to the two sisters, who did their utmost to force one of their
feet into the slipper, but they could not manage to do so. Cinderella,
who was looking on, and who recognised the slipper, said laughingly,
"Let me see if it will not fit me." Her sisters began to laugh and
ridicule her. The gentleman of the Court who had been entrusted to try
the slipper, having looked attentively at Cinderella, and seeing that
she was very beautiful, said that it was only fair that her request
should be granted, as he had received orders to try the slipper on all
maidens, without exception. He made Cinderella sit down, and putting the
slipper to her little foot, he saw it slip on easily and fit like wax.
Great was the astonishment of the two sisters, but it was still greater
when Cinderella took the other little slipper out of her pocket and put
it on her other foot. At that moment the godmother appeared, who giving
a tap with her wand to Cinderella's clothes, they became still more
magnificent than those she had worn before.
The two sisters then recognised in her the beautiful person they had
seen at the ball. They threw themselves at her feet to beg for
forgiveness for all the ill-treatment she had suffered from them.
Cinderella raised and embraced them, said that she forgave them with all
her heart, and begged them to love her dearly for the future. She was
conducted, dressed as she was, to the young Prince. He found her more
charming than ever, and a few days afterwards he married her.
Cinderella, who was as kind as she was beautiful, gave her sisters
apartments in the palace, and married them the very same day to two
great lords of the Court.
Beauty in woman is a treasure rare
Which we are never weary of admiring;
But a sweet temper is a gift more fair
And better worth the youthful maid's desiring.
That was the boon bestowed on Cinderella
By her wise godmother--her truest glory.
The rest was "nought but leather and prunella."
Such is the moral of this little story--
Beauties, that charm, become you more than dress,
And win a heart with far greater facility.
In short, in all things to ensure success,
The real Fairy Gift is amiability!
* * * * *
Talent, courage, wit, and worth,
Are rare gifts to own on earth;
But if you want to thrive at Court--
So, at least, the wise report--
You will find you need some others,
Such as godfathers or mothers.
RIQUET WITH THE TUFT
Once upon a time there was a Queen who had a son, so ugly and misshapen,
that it was doubted for a long time whether his form was really human. A
fairy, who was present at his birth, affirmed, nevertheless, that he
would be worthy to be loved, as he would have an excellent wit; she
added, moreover, that by virtue of the gift she had bestowed upon him,
he would be able to impart equal intelligence to the one whom he loved
best. All this was some consolation to the poor Queen, who was much
distressed at having brought so ugly a little monkey into the world. It
is true that the child was no sooner able to speak than he said a
thousand pretty things, and that in all his ways there was a certain air
of intelligence, with which everyone was charmed. I had forgotten to say
that he was born with a little tuft of hair on his head, and so he came
to be called Riquet with the Tuft; for Riquet was the family name.
About seven or eight years later, the Queen of a neighbouring kingdom
had two daughters. The elder was fairer than the day, and the Queen was
so delighted, that it was feared some harm might come to her from her
great joy. The same fairy who had assisted at the birth of little
Riquet, was present upon this occasion, and in order to moderate the joy
of the Queen, she told her that this little Princess would have no gifts
of mind at all, and that she would be as stupid as she was beautiful.
The Queen was greatly mortified on hearing this, but, shortly after, she
was even more annoyed, when her second little daughter was born and
proved to be extremely ugly. "Do not distress yourself, madam," said the
fairy to her, "your daughter will find compensation, for she will have
so much intelligence, that her lack of beauty will scarcely be
perceived."
"Heaven send it may be so," replied the Queen; "but are there no means
whereby a little more understanding might be given to the elder, who is
so lovely?" "I can do nothing for her in the way of intelligence,
madam," said the fairy, "but everything in the way of beauty; as,
however, there is nothing in my power I would not do to give you
comfort, I will bestow on her the power of conferring beauty on any man
or woman who shall please her." As these two Princesses grew up, their
endowments also became more perfect, and nothing was talked of anywhere
but the beauty of the elder, and the intelligence of the younger. It is
true that their defects also greatly increased with their years. The
younger became uglier every moment, and the elder more stupid every day.
She either made no answer when she was spoken to, or else said something
foolish. With this she was so clumsy, that she could not even place four
pieces of china on a mantelshelf, without breaking one of them, or
drink a glass of water, without spilling half of it on her dress.
Notwithstanding the attraction of beauty, the younger, in whatever
society they might be, nearly always bore away the palm from her sister.
At first everyone went up to the more beautiful, to gaze at and admire
her; but they soon left her for the cleverer one, to listen to her many
pleasant and amusing sayings; and people were astonished to find that in
less than a quarter of an hour, the elder had not a soul near her, while
all the company had gathered round the younger. The elder, though very
stupid, noticed this, and would have given, without regret, all her
beauty, for half the sense of her sister. Discreet as she was, the Queen
could not help often reproaching her with her stupidity, which made the
poor Princess ready to die of grief.
One day, when she had gone by herself into a wood, to weep over her
misfortune, she saw approaching her, a little man of very ugly and
unpleasant appearance, but magnificently dressed. It was the young
Prince Riquet with the Tuft, who, having fallen in love with her from
seeing her portraits, which were sent all over the world, had left his
father's kingdom that he might have the pleasure of beholding her and
speaking to her. Enchanted at meeting her thus alone, he addressed her
with all the respect and politeness imaginable. Having remarked, after
paying her the usual compliments, that she was very melancholy, he said
to her, "I cannot understand, madam, how a person so beautiful as you
are can be so unhappy as you appear; for, although I can boast of having
seen an infinite number of beautiful people, I can say with truth that
I have never seen one whose beauty could be compared with yours."
"You are pleased to say so, sir," replied the Princess, and there she
stopped.
"Beauty," continued Riquet, "is so great an advantage, that it ought to
take the place of every other, and, possessed of it, I see nothing that
can have power to afflict one."
"I would rather," said the Princess, "be as ugly as you are, and have
intelligence, than possess the beauty I do, and be so stupid as I am."
"There is no greater proof of intelligence, madam, than the belief that
we have it not; it is the nature of that gift, that the more we have,
the more we believe ourselves to be without it."
"I do not know how that may be," said the Princess, "but I know well
enough that I am very stupid, and that is the cause of the grief that is
killing me."
"If that is all that troubles you, madam, I can easily put an end to
your sorrow."
"And how would you do that?" said the Princess.
"I have the power, madam," said Riquet with the Tuft, "to give as much
intelligence as it is possible to possess, to the person whom I love
best; as you, madam, are that person, it will depend entirely upon
yourself, whether or not you become gifted with this amount of
intelligence, provided that you are willing to marry me."
The Princess was struck dumb with astonishment, and replied not a word.
"I see," said Riquet with the Tuft, "that this proposal troubles you,
and I am not surprised, but I will give you a full year to consider it."
The Princess had so little sense, and at the same time was so anxious to
have a great deal, that she thought the end of that year would never
come; so she at once accepted the offer that was made her. She had no
sooner promised Riquet with the Tuft that she would marry him that day
twelve months, than she felt herself quite another person to what she
had previously been. She found she was able to say whatever she pleased,
with a readiness past belief, and of saying it in a clever, but easy and
natural manner. She immediately began a sprightly and well-sustained
conversation with Riquet with the Tuft, and was so brilliant in her
talk, that Riquet with the Tuft began to think he had given her more wit
than he had reserved for himself. On her return to the palace, the whole
Court was puzzled to account for a change so sudden and extraordinary;
for the number of foolish things which they had been accustomed to hear
from her, she now made as many sensible and exceedingly witty remarks.
All the Court was in a state of joy not to be described. The younger
sister alone was not altogether pleased, for, having lost her
superiority over her sister in the way of intelligence, she now only
appeared by her side as a very unpleasing-looking person.
The King now began to be guided by his elder daughter's advice, and at
times even held his Council in her apartments. The news of the change of
affairs was spread abroad, and all the young princes of the
neighbouring kingdoms exerted themselves to gain her affection, and
nearly all of them asked her hand in marriage. She found none of them,
however, intelligent enough to please her, and she listened to all of
them, without engaging herself to one.
At length arrived a Prince, so rich and powerful, so clever and so
handsome, that she could not help listening willingly to his addresses.
Her father, having perceived this, told her that he left her at perfect
liberty to choose a husband for herself, and that she had only to make
known her decision. As the more intelligence we possess, the more
difficulty we find in making up our mind on such a matter as this, she
begged her father, after having thanked him, to allow her time to think
about it.