CINDERELLA.
The room was dark, the fire was out and a little girl sat crying all alone in the ashes. "I want to go to the party too!" she sobbed. "I want to dance and wear a pretty dress, but my dress is ragged. My sisters have gone and left me. Nobody wants me. It's so dark here I'm afraid. Oh! I'm so cold." The tears ran down the face of this forlorn little girl and fell in the ashes at her feet. Poor child! Poor little maid! She had to wash and scrub and dust, while her sisters did nothing but wear pretty clothes and go to all the parties. They never thought of taking her with them. She was only fit to blacken their boots and to mend their dresses. Because her hands and her hair were sometimes gray and dusty from tending the fire and sweeping the hearth, they called her Cinderella. She had helped her sisters to dress that very night, smiling all the time, but now that they were gone, Cinderella could keep back the tears no longer. She was sobbing as if her heart would break, when suddenly she heard a noise, the room was filled with light and, right in front of her stood a curious little old woman, with a long stick in her hand. She had pointed shoes on her feet and a tassel in her cap.
"You shall go to the party!" said the queer little creature, stamping her foot on the floor. "You have always been a good child. You have as much right to go as your sisters. You shall go! and you shall wear a pretty dress and ride in a fine carriage too, so dry your eyes, my dear, and bring me the biggest yellow pumpkin you can find in the garden," said the fairy; for this little old woman was really a fairy.
The pumpkin was so large that Cinderella could hardly lift it. With a nod of her pointed cap, the old woman touched it with her curious stick and a carriage, a wonderful carriage, stood in its place. The cushion's were soft velvet ones, the windows were hung with curtains of silk and there were silver handles on both the doors.
"Now quickly," said the fairy, "bring me the traps from the cellar!" There were six little shivering mice in one trap and two plump gray rats in the other. "Open the doors!" said the old woman. As the six mice crept slowly out she touched them, one at a time, with her long stick, which was really a fairy wand, and in a minute each little mouse was turned into a prancing gray horse that sprang to his place in front of the carriage. Tap! Tap! went the wand, and the rats were nowhere to be seen. In their place stood two big, tall men with shiny boots on their feet and high hats on their heads. They jumped upon the box and one of them caught the reins in his hands.
"Now one thing more, my dear," said the fairy to Cinderella; "run into the garden again and bring the six lizards you will find under a big stone by the wall." When the lizards were brought, the fairy touched them too and, in a twinkling, they jumped up from the ground and stood beside the carriage doors, three on one side and three on the other,—six little footmen, with six little green coats on their backs and six little red hats in their hands, all ready to help Cinderella into her wonderful carriage.
Another touch of the old woman's wand and Cinderella herself stood dressed in a gown as blue as the blue sky above and all covered from top to toe with shining silver stars. She was just going to step into the carriage and drive away when, looking down, she saw that her feet were quite bare, she had no shoes on. The fairy saw too. She smiled and took a pair of little slippers from her pocket. They were all made of glass and they were such tiny, tiny slippers that, when Cinderella had put them on, she looked the most beautiful maiden in the whole wide world. "Take good care of them, my dear," said the old woman. "If you want to be happy be careful how you use those little shoes. Now go, child, but there is one thing you must remember,—when the clock strikes twelve you must be at home again in this very room. If you are not, all your beautiful things will vanish and you will be left alone just a poor little, ragged cinder-maid."
Cinderella promised to remember. She thanked the fairy and drove quickly away. At last she reached the big house where the Prince was giving the party. There was music and dancing in the great hall, but when Cinderella walked in, everybody stopped dancing and looked at her. They said, "What a pretty girl! Who is she? Where did she come from? She must be a princess to wear such wonderful clothes! She has on such a fine dress, she must surely be a princess!" When the Prince saw her, he asked her to dance with him and, after that, he would dance with no one else. But Cinderella remembered what the fairy had told her and, just before midnight, she slipped away and was safe in the kitchen at home when the clock struck twelve. No one had seen her leave the great hall. No one had seen her drive away, but the Prince missed her the moment she was gone and had the great house searched from top to bottom, but not a trace of the pretty maiden could be found.
On the second night of the great party all happened as on the first. Cinderella was made ready by the fairy and, when she reached the big house on the hill, the Prince ran to welcome her. He would dance with no one else as before and, when Cinderella vanished just before the clock struck twelve, he was so unhappy that no one could comfort him.
Now the third and last night of the party had come. The Prince could think of nothing but the pretty maid. "I must know who she is and where she comes from, or I shall never be happy again. I will keep fast hold of her hand to-night. She shall not slip away this time as she has always done before," said the Prince.
Never had Cinderella been as happy as on that evening, never had she danced as well, never had the lights shone brighter or the music sounded sweeter, never had the Prince been half as gay. Cinderella danced on and on. She forgot the fairy, she forgot her promise, she forgot the hour. The great clock in the hall ticked off the minutes. It was nearly twelve, still Cinderella danced on without a thought. The six gray horses pawed restlessly at the door. Louder and louder grew the music, faster and faster flew the dancers, and the gayest of them all was Cinderella as she whirled by on the arm of the happy Prince. But, hark! What's that? Above the noise of the dancing, above the music and laughter, a sound is heard. It is the great clock striking the hour of midnight.
Cinderella heard at last, at last she remembered. She snatched her hand from the hand of the Prince. She rushed to the doorway, but she tripped upon the mat and one of her little glass slippers fell off. The Prince ran after her, but he stopped to pick up her slipper, and when he reached the gateway the beautiful lady was nowhere to be seen. All was dark and still, only a ragged beggar-maid, sobbing as if her heart would break, went quickly away into the night. Poor, poor Cinderella! Her wonderful carriage had vanished, her beautiful dress was gone, nothing was left her but one tiny glass slipper. She stooped and taking it from her foot she put it carefully into the pocket of her ragged dress, and walked barefoot all the way home alone in the darkness.
Time passed, the poor Prince could not sleep by night and could not rest by day for he had lost his beautiful lady. He had her little slipper and that was his only comfort. At last he said, "Whoever can wear this slipper shall be my queen and queen of all my people."
He took the precious slipper and he traveled far and near through all the land. He stopped at every cottage and he stopped at every castle and he begged every maiden whom he met to try it on. But, alas! he found no one with foot small enough to wear it. At last, one day, he stopped before the only house that, in all his kingdom, he had not visited. Cinderella's sisters hurried to meet him for it was at their door he stood. They tried and tried to crowd their great feet into the tiny slipper, but it was of no use. The Prince was turning sadly away thinking, "I shall never see my beautiful lady again," when he caught sight of a face at the kitchen window. "Who is that?" he cried. "Oh, it is only Cinderella! a poor kitchen maid," said the sisters. "Let her be brought! She too shall try the slipper!" said the Prince. "No! no! She is too ragged and dirty to be seen. Do you think that a cinder-maid can wear your shoe when we cannot get it on?" But the Prince would have his way.
When Cinderella was brought, her dainty little foot slid into the glass shoe as easily as though she had worn it all her life. She smiled and took its mate from the pocket of her ragged dress. The Prince smiled too and, looking into Cinderella's face, he saw his long lost lady of the party. With a cry of joy he lifted her, all ragged as she was, upon his horse and the Prince and his chosen princess rode away.