Fairy Tales for Young Readers Read Free

ever seen.
    The Prince danced with her, and took her in to supper, and as the evening went on he began to talk of other things than the weather. He told her that her eyes were stars, and her mouth a flower, and things like that—quite silly things, because, of course, no one’s eyes are like stars or their mouths like flowers—quite silly, but still she liked to hear them. And at last he said in that blunt, downright manner which is permitted to princes, “There is no one like you in the world. Will you marry me?”
    She was just going to say, “Yes, please,” for, indeed, she thought there was no one like him in the world, when the palace clock struck the half after eleven. She turned in a flash and ran down the corridor—and the magic glass slippers that had made her dancing the wonder of all the Court now made her running as swift as the wind’s going, so that she had reached her coach and jumped in before the Prince, pursuing her, had turned the first corner in the grand staircase.
    She got home just as the clock struck twelve, and at the last stroke coach and horses, coachman and footman, turned into what they had been before, and she herself was once more the shabby, dusty little Cinderella who had sat and cried into the ashes.
    When her sisters came home she had to listen to their tales of the ball, and of the strange Princess who was sobeautiful that she took everybody’s breath away, and as she listened, yawning, she could hardly believe that she herself had really been that lovely lady.
    She dreamed all night of the Prince. And next day the herald came round with the King’s compliments, and would every one who had been at the ball last night kindly come round to the Palace again that evening?
    And everything happened as before. The others drove off early, the fairy godmother came and waved her wand, and the Prince, anxiously watching at the head of the grand staircase, saw his Princess threading her way through the crowd like a moonbeam through dark water.
    That night every one saw that it was going to be a match. The King and Queen were as pleased with Cinderella’s pretty manners as Prince Charming was with her pretty face and the dear self that looked out of her eyes.
    â€œTell me your name, loveliest and dearest,” he said. “Give me your hand and tell me the name of my bride.”
    And Cinderella, pale with happiness, and with eyes that really did look rather starry, gave him her hand and said:
    â€œDear Prince, my name is——” And then, boom, boom, boom!—the great clock in the palace tower began to strike midnight.
    â€œLet me go—let me go!” cried Cinderella, and tore her hands from the Prince’s, and ran, the magic slippers helping her all they could. But they could not help enough. Before she could get out of the palace grounds her beautiful dress had turned to rags, and as she reached the gate the only traces left of her grand coach and six and her fine servants were six scampering mice, six furtive lizards, a fat old running rat, and a big yellow pumpkin bowling along the road as hard as it could go, all by itself.
    The night had changed its mind and turned out wet, and she had to run all the way home in the mud; and it was very difficult, because she had dropped one of her glass slippers in her haste to get away, and:

    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  “ You know how hard it is to run
With one shoe off and one shoe on. ”
    When the Prince, wild with anxiety and disappointment, rushed out to ask the sentries about the magnificent Princess who had driven away, they told him that no one had passed out except a ragged beggar girl, running like a mad thing. So he went back to the palace with despair in his heart, and his dancing shoes wet through.
    He did not sleep a wink all night, and next morning he sent for the herald, who was a very good fellow, and rather clever in his way.
    â€œMy