Cinderella

Part 1

Produced by Dianne Bean

CINDERELLA OR, THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER AND OTHER STORIES

By Anonymous Authors

Cinderella; or, The Little Glass Slipper Fanny’s Telephone Order The Raindrops’ New Dresses Sir Gobble What is It? John’s Bright Idea A Sad Thanksgiving Party Guy and the Bee Mean Boy Naughty Pumpkin’s Fate Something About Fires The lee-King’s Reign. Malmo, the Wounded Rat Mama’s Happy Christmas Cured of Carelessness A Visit from a Prince Stringing Cranberries Christmas in California A Troublesome Call Bertie’s Corn-Popper Fire! Fire! Fire! The Dolls and the Other Dolls Why Did Mamma Change Her Mind? Clara’s Funeral. The Chickadee-Dee. The Children’s Party Brave Tomasso Tommy Frost Sees a Bear Myself Two Strange Sights A Cat’s Instincts Diliah’s New Year’s Presents Night Flowers The First Snow Storm Fred’s Stolen Ride A Valentine Party The Venturesome Rat The Bear’s Feast Babie’s Curls. The Red Apples Bubbles A Horse Who Wore Snow Shoes The Angry Bobolink How Hiram Spent His Shrimp Money The Ant’s House The Foolish Pug The Silhouette Party The Snow Birds A Kind Heart Towser Talks Just as She Pleased

CINDERELLA; OR THE LITTLE GLASS SLIPPER.

Once there was a gentleman who married for his second wife the proudest and most haughty woman that was ever seen. She had by a former husband two daughters of her own humor, who were, indeed, exactly like her in all things. He had likewise, by another wife, a young daughter, but of unparalleled goodness and sweetness of temper, which she took from her mother, who was the best creature in the world.

No sooner were the ceremonies of the wedding over but the mother-in-law began to show herself in her true colors. She could not bear the good qualities of this pretty girl, and the less because they made her own daughters appear the more odious. She employed her in meanest work of the house: she scoured the dishes, tables, etc., and scrubbed madam’s chamber and those of misses, her daughters; she lay up in a sorry garret, upon a wretched straw bed, while her sisters lay in fine rooms, with floors all inlaid, upon beds of the very newest fashion, and where they had looking-glasses so large that they might see themselves at their full length from head to foot.

The poor girl bore all patiently and dared not tell her father, who would have rattled her off; for his wife governed him entirely. When she had done her work she used to go into the chimney-corner and sit down among cinders and ashes, which made her commonly be called a cinder maid; but the youngest, who was not so rude and uncivil as the eldest, called her Cinderella. However, Cinderella, notwithstanding her mean apparel, was a hundred times handsomer than her sisters, though they were always dressed very richly.

It happened that the King’s son gave a ball and invited all persons, of fashion to it. Our young misses were also invited, for they cut a very grand figure among the quality. They were mightily delighted at this invitation, and wonderfully busy in choosing out such gowns, petticoats, and head-clothes as might become them. This was a new trouble to Cinderella, for it was she who ironed her sisters’ linen and plaited their ruffles. They talked all day long of nothing but how they should be dressed.

“For my part,” said the eldest, “I will wear my red velvet suit with French trimming.”

“And I,” said the youngest, “shall have my usual petticoat; but then, to make amends for that, I will put on my gold-flowered manteau and my diamond stomacher, which is far from being the most ordinary one in the world.”

They sent for the best tire-woman they could get to make up their head-dresses and adjust their double pinners, and they had their red brushes and patches from Mademoiselle de la Poche.

Cinderella was likewise called up to them to be consulted in all these matters, for she had excellent notions and advised them always for the best, nay, and offered her services to dress their heads, which they were very willing she should do. As she was doing this they said to her:

“Cinderella, would you not be glad to go to the ball?”

“Alas!” said she, “you only jeer me. It is not for such as I am to go thither.”

“Thou art in the right of it,” replied they. “It would make the people laugh to see a cinder wench at a ball.”

Any one but Cinderella would have dressed their heads awry, but she was very good and dressed them perfectly well. They were almost two days without eating, so much they were transported with joy. They broke above a dozen of laces in trying to be laced up close, that they might have a fine, slender shape, and they were continually at their looking-glass. At last the happy day came. They went to Court, and Cinderella followed them with her eyes as long as she could, and when she had lost sight of them she fell a-crying.

Her Godmother, who saw her all in tears, asked her what was the matter.

“I wish I could--I wish I could--”

She was not able to speak the rest being interrupted by her tears and sobbing.

This Godmother of hers, who was a fairy, said to her: “Thou wishest thou could’st go to the ball. Is it not so?”

“Y--es,” cried Cinderella, with a great sigh.

“Well,” said her Godmother, “be but a good girl, and I will contrive that thou shalt go.” Then she took her into her chamber and said to her: “Run into the garden and bring me a pumpkin.”

Cinderella went immediately to gather the finest she could get and brought it to her Godmother, not being able to imagine how this pumpkin could make her go to the ball. Her Godmother scooped out all the inside of it, having left nothing but the rind; which done, she struck it with her wand, and the pumpkin was instantly turned into a fine coach, gilded all over with gold.

She then went to look into her mousetrap, where she found six mice all alive, and ordered Cinderella to lift up a little the trapdoor, when, giving each mouse as it went out a little tap with her wand, the mouse was that moment turned into a fine horse, which altogether made a very fine set of six horses of a beautiful mouse-colored dapple-gray. Being at a loss for a coachman, Cinderella said:

“I will go and see if there is never a rat in the rattrap--we may make a coachman of him.”

“Thou art in the right,” replied her Godmother. “Go and look.”

Cinderella brought the trap to her, and in it there were three huge rats. The fairy made choice of one of the three which had the largest beard, and having touched him with her wand he was turned into a fat, jolly coachman, who had the smartest whiskers eyes ever beheld. After that she said to her:

Part 2

“Go again into the garden, and you will find six lizards behind the watering-pot. Bring them to me.”

She had no sooner done so but her Godmother turned them into six footmen, who skipped up immediately behind the coach, with their liveries all bedaubed with gold and silver, and clung as close behind each other as if they had done nothing else their whole lives. The fairy then said to Cinderella:

“Well, you see here an equipage fit to go to the ball with. Are you not pleased with it?”

“Oh! yes,” cried she; “but must I go thither as I am, in these dirty rags?”

Her Godmother only just touched her with her wand, and at the same instant her clothes were turned into cloth-of-gold and silver, all beset with jewels. 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 dewdrops 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.”

But her Godmother, above all things, commanded her not to stay till after midnight, telling her at the same time that if she stayed one moment longer the coach would be a pumpkin again, her horses mice, her coachman a rat, her footmen lizards, and her clothes become just as they were before.

She promised her Godmother she would not fail of leaving the ball before midnight, and then away she drives, scarce able to contain herself for joy. The King’s son, who was told that a great Princess, whom nobody knew, was come, ran out to receive her. He gave her his hand as she alighted out of the coach; and led her into the hall among all the company. There was immediately a profound silence, they left off dancing, and the violins ceased to play, so attentive was every one to contemplate the singular beauties of the unknown newcomer. Nothing was then heard but a confused noise of “Ha! how handsome she is! Ha! how handsome she is!”

Continue reading Cinderella free in the Wunder reader →