And back into the cinder dress

Was changed the gold brocade!

The prince secured the slipper,

And this proclamation made:

That the country should be searched,

And any lady, far or wide,

Who could get the slipper on her foot,

Should straightway be his bride.

So every lady tried it,

With her “Mys!” and “Ahs!” and “Ohs!”

And Cinderella’s sisters pared

Their heels, and pared their toes,—

But all in vain! Nobody’s foot

Was small enough for it,

Till Cinderella tried it,

And it was a perfect fit.

Then the royal heralds hardly

Knew what it was best to do,

When from out her tattered pocket

Forth she drew the other shoe,

While the eyelids on the larkspur eyes

Dropped down a snowy vail,

And the sisters turned from pale to red,

And then from red to pale,

And in hateful anger cried, and stormed,

And scolded, and all that,

And a courtier, without thinking,

Tittered out behind his hat.

For here was all the evidence

The Prince had asked, complete,

Two little slippers made of glass,

Fitting two little feet.

So the Prince, with all his retinue,

Came there to claim his wife;

And he promised he would love her

With devotion all his life.

At the marriage there was splendid

Music, dancing, wedding cake;

And he kept the slipper as a treasure

Ever, for her sake.

[THUMB]
[PAGE]

[ DICK WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT.]

DICK WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT.

VERSIFIED BY MRS. CLARA DOTY BATES.
Dick, as a little lad, was told That the London streets were paved with gold. He never, in all his life, had seen A place more grand than the village green; So his thoughts by day, and his dreams by night, Pictured this city of delight, Till whatever he did, wherever he went, His mind was filled with discontent.
There was bitter taste to the peasant bread, And a restless hardness to his bed; So, after a while, one summer day, Little Dick Whittington ran away. Yes—ran away to London city! Poor little lad! he needs your pity; For there, instead of a golden street, The hot, sharp stones abused his feet. So tired he was he was fit to fall,— Yet nobody cared for him at all; He wandered here, and he wandered there, With a heavy heart, for many a square. And at last, when he could walk no more, He sank down faint at a merchant’s door. And the cook—for once compassionate— Took him in at the area-gate.