After that everything went wrong. The new mother was very cross and unkind; and she had two daughters of her own who were as cross and unkind as herself. They were harsh and cruel to our fair young girl and made her do all the hard work about the house.

She swept the floors and scrubbed the stairs and washed the dishes and cleaned the grates, while her two sisters sat in the parlor or lay asleep on their soft beds. They slept in fine rooms where there were long looking-glasses in which they could see themselves from head to foot; but she was sent to lie on an old pile of straw in the attic where there was only one chair, and no looking-glass at all.

When her day's work was done, they did not allow her to come into the parlor, but made her sit in the chimney corner in the kitchen among the ashes and cinders. This is why they nicknamed her Cinderella, or the cinder maid. But, for all her shabby clothes, she was handsomer by half than they could ever be.

Now it happened that the King's son gave a ball, and he invited all the fine rich people in the city to come to it. Of course, Cinderella's sisters were to go; and they were very proud and happy, for they thought that perhaps the Prince would dance with them. As for Cinderella, it only meant more work for her; she must help her sisters get their fine dresses ready, and she must iron their laces and ribbons, and starch their linen, and put their ruffles in order. For days and days they talked of nothing but clothes.

"I am going to wear my blue velvet dress, and trim it with point lace," said the elder.

"And I am going to wear my pink satin, with diamonds and pearls," said the younger.

And then they began to quarrel; and they would have fought, I do believe, if Cinderella had not tried to make peace between them.

In the evening, while she was helping them with their hair, the elder said:

"Cinderella, don't you wish you were going to the ball to-night?"

"Ah, you are only laughing at me," she said. "It is not for me to go to so fine a place as that."

"You are right," said her sister. "Folks would think it very funny to see such a creature as you at a ball. The best place for you is among the ashes."

The sisters had laced themselves very tightly, for they wanted to look thin and slender; and they had eaten scarcely anything for two days. It is no wonder, then, that they were more ill-tempered that night than they had been before; and they scolded and fretted and frowned until there was no getting along with them at all. But Cinderella was as sweet and kind as ever, and seemed to take all the more pains to make them look handsome.

At last the coach stopped at the door; they hurried out, and climbed into it; and then they were whirled away to the ball.

As for Cinderella, she sat down by the kitchen fire and cried.

All at once a fairy stood before her and asked her what was the matter.

"I wish I could—I wish I could—" and that was all that Cinderella could say for weeping and sobbing.

"I know," said the fairy. "You want to go to the ball, don't you?"

"Y-yes," cried Cinderella; and then she sobbed harder than ever.

"Well," said the fairy, "I know you are a good girl, and I think we can manage it." Then she said, "Run into the garden and fetch me a pumpkin."

Cinderella did not stop to ask why, but ran out and soon brought in the finest pumpkin that she could find. The fairy scooped out the inside of it, and then struck it with her wand.

What a strange thing happened then! Before you could snap your fingers, the pumpkin was changed into a fine coach gilded all over and lined with red satin.

"Now fetch me the mouse trap from the pantry," said the fairy.

Cinderella did so; there were six fat mice in it. The fairy lifted the trap door, and, as the mice came out one by one, she touched them with her wand. You would have laughed to see how quickly they were changed into fine black horses.

"But what shall we do for a coachman, my Cinderella?" said the fairy.

"Maybe there is a rat in the rat trap," said Cinderella. "We might make a coachman of him."

"You are right," said the fairy; "go and see!"

Cinderella soon brought the rat trap, and in it there were three big rats. The fairy chose the finest one among them and touched him with her wand; and, quick as a flash, he became the fattest, jolliest coachman that you ever saw.

"Now, go into the garden," said the fairy, "and you will find six gray lizards behind the watering pot. Bring them to me."

She had no sooner done so than the fairy touched them with her wand and turned them into six foot-men, who stood in waiting behind the coach as if they had been footmen all their lives.

"Now then, my Cinderella," said the fairy, "now you can go to the ball."

"What! In these clothes?" said Cinderella; and she looked down at her ragged frock and began to sob again.

The fairy laughed, and touched her with her wand. You should have seen what happened then. Her clothes were turned into the finest cloth of gold and silver, all beset with rich jewels; and on her feet were glass slippers, the prettiest that ever were seen.

"Now, my Cinderella," said the fairy, "you must be off at once. But remember that if you stay a moment after midnight, your carriage will be a pumpkin again, and your coachman a rat, and your horses mice, and your footmen lizards, and yourself a ragged little cinder maid."

Then Cinderella stepped into her coach, the coachman cracked his whip, and away she was whirled to the ball.