he ashes. "I want to go to the party too!" she sobbed. "I
want to dance and wear a pretty dress, but my dress is ragged. My
sisters have gone and left me. Nobody wants me. It's so dark here I'm
afraid. Oh! I'm so cold." The tears ran down the face of this forlorn
little girl and fell in the ashes at her feet. Poor child! Poor
little maid! She had to wash and scrub and dust, while her sisters did
nothing but wear pretty clothes and go to all the parties. They never
thought of taking her with them. She was only fit to blacken their
boots and to mend their dresses. Because her hands and her hair were
sometimes gray and dusty from tending the fire and sweeping the hearth,
they called her Cinderella. She had helped her sisters to dress that
very night, smiling all the time, but now that they were gone,
Cinderella could keep back the tears no longer. She was sobbing as if
her heart would break, when suddenly she heard a noise, the room was
filled with light and, right in front of her stood a curious little old
woman, with a long stick in her hand. She had pointed shoes on her
feet and a tassel in her cap.

"You shall go to the party!" said the queer little creature, stamping
her foot on the floor. "You have always been a good child. You have
as much right to go as your sisters. You shall go! and you shall wear
a pretty dress and ride in a fine carriage too, so dry your eyes, my
dear, and bring me the biggest yellow pumpkin you can find in the
garden," said the fairy; for this little old woman was really a fairy.

The pumpkin was so large that Cinderella could hardly lift it. With a
nod of her pointed cap, the old woman touched it with her curious stick
and a carriage, a wonderful carriage, stood in its place. The
cushion's were soft velvet ones, the windows were hung with curtains of
silk and there were silver handles on both the doors.

"Now quickly," said the fairy, "bring me the traps from the cellar!"
There were six little shivering mice in one trap and two plump gray
rats in the other. "Open the doors!" said the old woman. As the six
mice crept slowly out she touched them, one at a time, with her long
stick, which was really a fairy wand, and in a minute each little mouse
was turned into a prancing gray horse that sprang to his place in front
of the carriage. Tap! Tap! went the wand, and the rats were nowhere
to be seen. In their place stood two big, tall men with shiny boots on
their feet and