ndeed I do!" said Cinderella, with a sigh.
"Well, then, if you will be a good girl, you shall go," said her
godmother. "Now fetch me a pumpkin from the garden," added she.
Cinderella flew to gather the finest pumpkin she could find, though she
could not understand how it was to help her to go to the ball. But, her
godmother having scooped it quite hollow, touched it with her wand, when
it was immediately changed into a gilt coach. She then went to the
mousetrap, where she found six live mice, and bidding Cinderella let
them out one by one, she changed each mouse into a fine dapple-grey
horse by a stroke of her wand. She next considered what she should do
for a coachman, when Cinderella proposed to look for a rat in the
rat-trap. "That's a good thought," quoth her godmother, "so go and see."
Sure enough, Cinderella returned with the rat-trap, in which were three
large rats. The fairy chose one who had a tremendous pair of whiskers,
and forthwith changed him into a coachman with the finest moustachios
ever seen. She then said: "Now go into the garden, and bring me six
lizards, which you will find behind the watering-pot." These were no
sooner brought, than they were turned into six footmen, with laced
liveries, who got up behind the coach just as naturally as if they had
done nothing else all their lives. The fairy then said to Cinderella:
"Now here are all the means for going to the ball; are you not pleased?"
"But must I go in these dirty clothes?" said Cinderella, timidly. Her
godmother merely touched her with her wand, and her shabby clothes were
changed to a dress of gold and silver tissue, all ornamented with
precious stones. She next gave her the prettiest pair of glass slippers
ever seen. She now got into the carriage, after having been warned by
her godmother upon no account to prolong her stay beyond midnight, as,
should she remain a moment longer at the ball, her coach would again
become a pumpkin, her horses mice, her footmen lizards, while her
clothes would return to their former shabby condition. Cinderella
promised she would not fail to leave the ball before midnight, and set
off in an ecstacy of delight. The king's son, on being informed that
some great princess, unknown at court, had just arrived, went to hand
her out of her carriage, and brought her into the hall where the company
was assembled. The moment she appeared, all conversation was hushed,
the violins ceased playing, and the dancing stopped short,