“ALMOST BEFORE SHE KNEW IT, AUNT RIVETTE HAD DESCENDED TO THE ROOF OF THE ROYAL STABLES.”
So old Rivette, feeling very proud and anxious to spend her money, left the palace and walked as fast as her tottering legs would carry her down the street in the direction of the shops. “I’ll buy a yellow silk,” she mumbled to herself, half aloud, “and a white velvet, and a purple brocade, and a sky-blue bonnet with crimson plumes! And won’t the neighbors stare then? Oh, dear! If I could only walk faster! And the shops are so far! I wish I could fly!”
Now she was wearing the magic cloak when she expressed this wish, and no sooner had she spoken than two great feathery wings appeared, fastened to her shoulders.
The old woman stopped short, turned her head, and saw the wings; and then she gave a scream and a jump and began waving her arms frantically.
The wings flopped at the same time, raising her slowly from the ground, and she began to soar gracefully above the heads of the astonished people, who thronged the streets below.
“Stop! Help! Murder!” shrieked Rivette, kicking her feet in great agitation, and at the same time flopping nervously her new wings. “Save me, some one! Save me!”
“Why don’t you save yourself?” asked a man below. “Stop flying, if you want to reach the earth again!”
This struck old Rivette as a sensible suggestion. She was quite a distance in the air by this time; but she tried to hold her wings steady and not flop them, and the result was that she began to float slowly downward. Then, with horror, she saw she was sinking directly upon the branches of a prickly-pear tree; so she screamed and began flying again, and the swift movement of her wings sent her high into the air.
So great was her terror that she nearly fainted; but she shut her eyes so that she might not see how high up she was, and held her wings rigid and began gracefully to float downward again.