Cinderella; or, The Little Glass SlipperFrance (Charles Perrault) – 1697

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, 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 stepmother 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 the meanest work of the house. She scoured the dishes, tables, etc., and cleaned madam's chamber, and those of misses, her daughters. She slept in a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed, while her sisters slept in fine rooms, with floors all inlaid, on beds of the very newest fashion, and where they had looking glasses so large that they could see themselves at their full length from head to foot.

The poor girl bore it all patiently, and dared not tell her father, who would have scolded her; for his wife governed him entirely. When she had done her work, she used to go to the chimney corner, and sit down there in the cinders and ashes, which caused her to be called Cinderwench. Only the younger sister, who was not so rude and uncivil as the older one, called her Cinderella. However, Cinderella, notwithstanding her coarse apparel, was a hundred times more beautiful than her sisters, although 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 those of quality. They were mightily delighted at this invitation, and wonderfully busy in selecting the gowns, petticoats, and hair dressing that would best become them. This was a new difficulty for Cinderella; for it was she who ironed her sister's linen and pleated 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 cloak, and my diamond stomacher, which is far from being the most ordinary one in the world." They sent for the best hairdresser they could get to make up their headpieces and adjust their hairdos, and they had

their red brushes and patches from Mademoiselle de la Poche. They also consulted Cinderella in all these matters, for she had excellent ideas, and her advice was always good.

Indeed, she even offered her services to fix their hair, which they very willingly accepted. As she was doing this, they said to her, "Cinderella, would you not like to go to the ball?"

"Alas!" said she, "you only jeer me; it is not for such as I am to go to such a place." "You are quite right," they replied. "It would make the people laugh to see a Cinderwench at a ball." Anyone but Cinderella would have fixed their hair awry, but she was very good, and dressed them perfectly well. They

were so excited that they hadn't eaten a thing for almost two days. Then they broke more than a dozen laces trying to have themselves laced up tightly enough to give them a fine slender shape. They were continually in front of 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. When she lost sight of them, she started to cry.

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, "You wish that you could go to the ball; is it not so?" "Yes," cried Cinderella, with a great sigh. "Well," said her godmother, "be but a good girl, and I will contrive that you shall 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 help her go to the ball. Her godmother scooped out all the inside of it, leaving nothing but the rind. Having done this, she struck the pumpkin with her wand, and it 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. She gave each mouse, as it went out, a little tap with her wand, and 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 not a rat in the rat trap that we can turn into a coachman."

"You are right," replied her godmother, "Go and look." Cinderella brought the trap to her, and in it there were three huge rats. The fairy chose the one which had the largest

beard, touched him with her wand, and turned him into a fat, jolly coachman, who had the smartest whiskers that eyes ever beheld.

After that, she said to her, "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," she cried; "but must I go in these nasty rags?" Her godmother then touched her with her wand, and, at the same instant, her clothes turned into cloth of gold and

silver, all beset with jewels. This done, she gave her a pair of glass slippers, the prettiest in the whole world. Being thus decked out, she got up into her coach; but her godmother, above all things, commanded her not to stay past 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 that her clothes would become just as they were before.

She promised her godmother to leave the ball before midnight; and then drove away, scarcely able to contain herself for joy. The king's son, who was told that a great princess, whom nobody knew, had arrived, ran out to receive her. He gave her his hand as she alighted from the coach, and led her into the hall, among all the company. There was immediately a profound silence. Everyone stopped dancing, and the violins ceased to play, so entranced was everyone with the singular beauties of the unknown newcomer. Nothing was then heard but a confused noise of, "How beautiful she is! How beautiful she is!"

The king himself, old as he was, could not help watching her, and telling the queen softly that it was a long time since he had seen so beautiful and lovely a creature. All the ladies were busied in considering her clothes and headdress, hoping to have some made next day after the same pattern, provided they could find such fine materials and as able hands to make them. The king's son led her to the most honorable seat, and afterwards took her out to dance with him. She danced so very gracefully that they all more and more admired her. A fine meal was served up, but the young prince ate not a morsel, so intently was he busied in gazing on her.

She went and sat down by her sisters, showing them a thousand civilities, giving them part of the oranges and citrons which the prince had presented her with, which very much surprised them, for they did not know her. While Cinderella was thus amusing her sisters, she heard the clock strike eleven and three-quarters, whereupon she immediately made a courtesy to the company and hurried away as fast as she could.

Arriving home, she ran to seek out her godmother, and, after having thanked her, she said she could not but heartily wish she might go to the ball the next day as well, because the king's son had invited her. As she was eagerly telling her godmother everything that had happened at the ball, her two sisters knocked at the door, which Cinderella ran and opened.

"You stayed such a long time!" she cried, gaping, rubbing her eyes and stretching herself as if she had been sleeping; she had not, however, had any manner of inclination to sleep while they were away from home.

"If you had been at the ball," said one of her sisters, "you would not have been tired with it. The finest princess was there, the most beautiful that mortal eyes have ever seen. She showed us a thousand civilities, and gave us oranges and citrons."

Cinderella seemed very indifferent in the matter. Indeed, she asked them the name of that princess; but they told her they did not know it, and that the king's son was very uneasy on her account and would give all the world to know who she was. At this Cinderella, smiling, replied, "She must, then, be very beautiful indeed; how happy you have been! Could not I see her? Ah, dear Charlotte, do lend me your yellow dress which you wear every day."

"Yes, to be sure!" cried Charlotte; "lend my clothes to such a dirty Cinderwench as you are! I should be such a fool." Cinderella, indeed, well expected such an answer, and was very glad of the refusal; for she would have been sadly put to it, if her sister had lent her what she asked for jestingly.

The next day the two sisters were at the ball, and so was Cinderella, but dressed even more magnificently than before. The king's son was always by her, and never ceased his compliments and kind speeches to her. All this was so far from being tiresome to her, and, indeed, she quite forgot what her godmother had told her. She thought that it was no later than eleven when she counted the clock striking twelve. She jumped up and fled, as nimble as a deer. The prince followed, but could not overtake her. She left behind one of her glass slippers, which the prince picked up most carefully. She reached home, but quite out of breath, and in her nasty old clothes, having nothing left of all her finery but one of the little slippers, the mate to the one that she had dropped.

The guards at the palace gate were asked if they had not seen a princess go out. They replied that they had seen nobody leave but a young girl, very shabbily dressed, and who had more the air of a poor country wench than a gentlewoman. When the two sisters returned from the ball Cinderella asked them if they had been well entertained, and if the fine lady had been there. They told her, yes, but that she hurried away immediately when it struck twelve, and with so much haste that she dropped one of her little glass slippers, the prettiest in the world, which the king's son had picked up; that he had done nothing but look at her all the time at the ball, and that most certainly he was very much in love with the beautiful person who owned the glass slipper.

What they said was very true; for a few days later, the king's son had it proclaimed, by sound of trumpet, that he would marry her whose foot this slipper would just fit. They began to try it on the princesses, then the duchesses and all the court, but in vain; it was brought to the two sisters, who did all they possibly could to force their foot into the slipper, but they did not succeed.

Cinderella, who saw all this, and knew that it was her slipper, said to them, laughing, "Let me see if it will not fit me." Her sisters burst out laughing, and began to banter with her. The gentleman who was sent to try the slipper looked earnestly at Cinderella, and, finding her very handsome, said that it was only just that she should try as well, and that he had orders to let everyone try.

He had Cinderella sit down, and, putting the slipper to her foot, he found that it went on very easily, fitting her as if it had been made of wax. Her two sisters were greatly astonished, but then even more so, when Cinderella pulled out of her pocket the other slipper, and put it on her other foot. Then in came her godmother and touched her wand to Cinderella's clothes, making them richer and more magnificent than any of those she had worn before.

And now her two sisters found her to be that fine, beautiful lady whom they had seen at the ball. They threw themselves at her feet to beg pardon for all the ill treatment they had made her undergo. Cinderella took them up, and, as she embraced them, said that she forgave them with all her heart, and wanted them always to love her.

She was taken to the young prince, dressed as she was. He thought she was more charming than before, and, a few days after, married her. Cinderella, who was no less good than beautiful, gave her two sisters lodgings in the palace, and that very same day matched them with two great lords of the court.

CinderellaJacob and Wilhelm Grimm – 1812 (Germany)

A rich man's wife became sick, and when she felt that her end was drawing near, she called her only daughter to her bedside and said, "Dear child, remain pious and good, and then our dear God will always protect you, and I will look down on you from heaven and be near you." With this she closed her eyes and died.

The girl went out to her mother's grave every day and wept, and she remained pious and good. When winter came the snow spread a white cloth over the grave, and when the spring sun had removed it again, the man took himself another wife. This wife brought two daughters into the house with her. They were beautiful, with fair faces, but evil and dark hearts. Times soon grew very bad for the poor stepchild.

"Why should that stupid goose sit in the parlor with us?" they said. "If she wants to eat bread, then she will have to earn it. Out with this kitchen maid!"

They took her beautiful clothes away from her, dressed her in an old gray smock, and gave her wooden shoes. "Just look at the proud princess! How decked out she is!" they shouted and laughed as they led her into the kitchen.

There she had to do hard work from morning until evening, get up before daybreak, carry water, make the fires, cook, and wash. Besides this, the sisters did everything imaginable to hurt her. They made fun of her, scattered peas and lentils into the ashes for her, so that she had to sit and pick them out again. In the evening when she had worked herself weary, there was no bed for her. Instead she had to sleep by the hearth in the ashes. And because she always looked dusty and dirty, they called her Cinderella.

One day it happened that the father was going to the fair, and he asked his two stepdaughters what he should bring back for them.

"Beautiful dresses," said the one. "Pearls and jewels," said the other. "And you, Cinderella," he said, "what do you want?" "Father, break off for me the first twig that brushes against your hat on your way home." So he bought beautiful dresses, pearls, and jewels for his two stepdaughters. On his way home, as he was riding

through a green thicket, a hazel twig brushed against him and knocked off his hat. Then he broke off the twig and took it with him. Arriving home, he gave his stepdaughters the things that they had asked for, and he gave Cinderella the twig from the hazel bush.

Cinderella thanked him, went to her mother's grave, and planted the branch on it, and she wept so much that her tears fell upon it and watered it. It grew and became a beautiful tree.

Cinderella went to this tree three times every day, and beneath it she wept and prayed. A white bird came to the tree every time, and whenever she expressed a wish, the bird would throw down to her what she had wished for. Now it happened that the king proclaimed a festival that was to last three days. All the beautiful young girls in the land were invited, so that his son could select a bride for himself. When the two stepsisters heard that they too had been invited, they were in high spirits.

They called Cinderella, saying, "Comb our hair for us. Brush our shoes and fasten our buckles. We are going to the festival at the king's castle."

Cinderella obeyed, but wept, because she too would have liked to go to the dance with them. She begged her stepmother to allow her to go.

"You, Cinderella?" she said. "You, all covered with dust and dirt, and you want to go to the festival?. You have neither clothes nor shoes, and yet you want to dance!"

However, because Cinderella kept asking, the stepmother finally said, "I have scattered a bowl of lentils into the ashes for you. If you can pick them out again in two hours, then you may go with us."

The girl went through the back door into the garden, and called out, "You tame pigeons, you turtledoves, and all you birds beneath the sky, come and help me to gather:

The good ones go into the pot, The bad ones go into your crop." Two white pigeons came in through the kitchen window, and then the turtledoves, and finally all the birds beneath the

sky came whirring and swarming in, and lit around the ashes. The pigeons nodded their heads and began to pick, pick, pick,

pick. And the others also began to pick, pick, pick, pick. They gathered all the good grains into the bowl. Hardly one hour had passed before they were finished, and they all flew out again.

The girl took the bowl to her stepmother, and was happy, thinking that now she would be allowed to go to the festival with them.

But the stepmother said, "No, Cinderella, you have no clothes, and you don't know how to dance. Everyone would only laugh at you."

Cinderella began to cry, and then the stepmother said, "You may go if you are able to pick two bowls of lentils out of the ashes for me in one hour," thinking to herself, "She will never be able to do that."

The girl went through the back door into the garden, and called out, "You tame pigeons, you turtledoves, and all you birds beneath the sky, come and help me to gather:

The good ones go into the pot, The bad ones go into your crop." Two white pigeons came in through the kitchen window, and then the turtledoves, and finally all the birds beneath the

sky came whirring and swarming in, and lit around the ashes. The pigeons nodded their heads and began to pick, pick, pick, pick. And the others also began to pick, pick, pick, pick. They gathered all the good grains into the bowls. Before a half hour had passed they were finished, and they all flew out again.

The girl took the bowls to her stepmother, and was happy, thinking that now she would be allowed to go to the festival with them.

But the stepmother said, "It's no use. You are not coming with us, for you have no clothes, and you don't know how to dance. We would be ashamed of you." With this she turned her back on Cinderella, and hurried away with her two proud daughters.

Now that no one else was at home, Cinderella went to her mother's grave beneath the hazel tree, and cried out: Shake and quiver, little tree,Throw gold and silver down to me. Then the bird threw a gold and silver dress down to her, and slippers embroidered with silk and silver. She quickly put

on the dress and went to the festival. Her stepsisters and her stepmother did not recognize her. They thought she must be a foreign princess, for she looked

so beautiful in the golden dress. They never once thought it was Cinderella, for they thought that she was sitting at home in the dirt, looking for lentils in the ashes.

The prince approached her, took her by the hand, and danced with her. Furthermore, he would dance with no one else. He never let go of her hand, and whenever anyone else came and asked her to dance, he would say, "She is my dance partner." She danced until evening, and then she wanted to go home. But the prince said, "I will go along and escort you," for he wanted to see to whom the beautiful girl belonged. However, she eluded him and jumped into the pigeon coop. The prince waited until her father came, and then he told him that the unknown girl had jumped into the pigeon coop.

The old man thought, "Could it be Cinderella?" He had them bring him an ax and a pick so that he could break the pigeon coop apart, but no one was inside. When

they got home Cinderella was lying in the ashes, dressed in her dirty clothes. A dim little oil-lamp was burning in the fireplace. Cinderella had quickly jumped down from the back of the pigeon coop and had run to the hazel tree. There she had taken off her beautiful clothes and laid them on the grave, and the bird had taken them away again. Then, dressed in her gray smock, she had returned to the ashes in the kitchen.

The next day when the festival began anew, and her parents and her stepsisters had gone again, Cinderella went to the hazel tree and said:

Shake and quiver, little tree,Throw gold and silver down to me. Then the bird threw down an even more magnificent dress than on the preceding day. When Cinderella appeared at

the festival in this dress, everyone was astonished at her beauty. The prince had waited until she came, then immediately took her by the hand, and danced only with her. When others came and asked her to dance with them, he said, "She is my dance partner."

When evening came she wanted to leave, and the prince followed her, wanting to see into which house she went. But she ran away from him and into the garden behind the house. A beautiful tall tree stood there, on which hung the most magnificent pears. She climbed as nimbly as a squirrel into the branches, and the prince did not know where she had gone. He waited until her father came, then said to him, "The unknown girl has eluded me, and I believe she has climbed up the pear tree. The father thought, "Could it be Cinderella?" He had an ax brought to him and cut down the tree, but no one was in it. When they came to the kitchen, Cinderella was lying there in the ashes as usual, for she had jumped down from the other side of the tree, had taken the beautiful dress back to the bird in the hazel tree, and had put on her gray smock.

On the third day, when her parents and sisters had gone away, Cinderella went again to her mother's grave and said to the tree:

Shake and quiver, little tree,Throw gold and silver down to me.

This time the bird threw down to her a dress that was more splendid and magnificent than any she had yet had, and the slippers were of pure gold. When she arrived at the festival in this dress, everyone was so astonished that they did not know what to say. The prince danced only with her, and whenever anyone else asked her to dance, he would say, "She is my dance partner."

When evening came Cinderella wanted to leave, and the prince tried to escort her, but she ran away from him so quickly that he could not follow her. The prince, however, had set a trap. He had had the entire stairway smeared with pitch. When she ran down the stairs, her left slipper stuck in the pitch. The prince picked it up. It was small and dainty, and of pure gold.

The next morning, he went with it to the man, and said to him, "No one shall be my wife except for the one whose foot fits this golden shoe."

The two sisters were happy to hear this, for they had pretty feet. With her mother standing by, the older one took the shoe into her bedroom to try it on. She could not get her big toe into it, for the shoe was too small for her. Then her mother gave her a knife and said, "Cut off your toe. When you are queen you will no longer have to go on foot."

The girl cut off her toe, forced her foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain, and went out to the prince. He took her on his horse as his bride and rode away with her. However, they had to ride past the grave, and there, on the hazel tree, sat the two pigeons, crying out:

Rook di goo, rook di goo!There's blood in the shoe.The shoe is too tight,This bride is not right!Then he looked at her foot and saw how the blood was running from it. He turned his horse around and took the false

bride home again, saying that she was not the right one, and that the other sister should try on the shoe. She went into her bedroom, and got her toes into the shoe all right, but her heel was too large. Then her mother gave her a knife, and said, "Cut a piece off your heel. When you are queen you will no longer have to go on foot."

The girl cut a piece off her heel, forced her foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain, and went out to the prince. He took her on his horse as his bride and rode away with her. When they passed the hazel tree, the two pigeons were sitting in it, and they cried out:

Rook di goo, rook di goo!There's blood in the shoe.The shoe is too tight,This bride is not right!He looked down at her foot and saw how the blood was running out of her shoe, and how it had stained her white

stocking all red. Then he turned his horse around and took the false bride home again. "This is not the right one, either," he said. "Don't you have another daughter?" "No," said the man. "There is only a deformed little Cinderella from my first wife, but she cannot possibly be the bride." The prince told him to send her to him, but the mother answered, "Oh, no, she is much too dirty. She cannot be seen."

But the prince insisted on it, and they had to call Cinderella. She first washed her hands and face clean, and then went and bowed down before the prince, who gave her the golden shoe. She sat down on a stool, pulled her foot out of the heavy wooden shoe, and put it into the slipper, and it fitted her perfectly.

When she stood up the prince looked into her face, and he recognized the beautiful girl who had danced with him. He cried out, "She is my true bride."

The stepmother and the two sisters were horrified and turned pale with anger. The prince, however, took Cinderella onto his horse and rode away with her. As they passed by the hazel tree, the two white pigeons cried out:

Rook di goo, rook di goo!No blood's in the shoe.The shoe's not too tight,This bride is right!!After they had cried this out, they both flew down and lit on Cinderella's shoulders, one on the right, the other on the

left, and remained sitting there. When the wedding with the prince was to be held, the two false sisters came, wanting to gain favor with Cinderella and

to share her good fortune. When the bridal couple walked into the church, the older sister walked on their right side and the younger on their left side, and the pigeons pecked out one eye from each of them. Afterwards, as they came out of the church, the older one was on the left side, and the younger one on the right side, and then the pigeons pecked out the other eye from each of them. And thus, for their wickedness and falsehood, they were punished with blindness as long as they lived.

Yeh-ShenThe Chinese Cinderella – 850 AD

During the time of the Ch’in and Han dynasties, a cave chief named Wu married two wives and each gave birth to baby girls. Before long Chief Wu and one wife died leaving one baby, Yeh-Shen, to be reared by her stepmother. The stepmother didn’t like Yeh-Shen for she was more beautiful and kinder than her own daughter so she treated her poorly.

Yeh-Shen was given the worst jobs and the only friend she had was a beautiful fish with big golden eyes. Each day the fish came out of the water onto the bank to be fed by Yeh-Shen. Now Yen-Shen had little food for herself but she was willing to share with the fish. Her stepmother hearing about the fish disguised herself as Yen-Shen and enticed the fish from the water. She stabbed it with a dagger, and cooked the fish for dinner.

Yeh-Shen was distraught when she learned of the fish’s death. As she sat crying she heard a voice and looked up to see a wise old man wearing the coarsest of clothes and with hair hanging down over his shoulders. He told her that the bones of the fish were filled with a powerful spirit, and that when she was in serious need she was to kneel before the bones and tell them of her heart’s desires. She was warned not to waste their gifts.

Yeh-Shen retrieved the bones from the trash heap and hid them in a safe place. Time passed and the spring festival was nearing. This was a time when the young people gathered in the village to meet one another and to find husbands and wives. Yen-Shen longed to go to the festival but her stepmother wouldn’t allow it because she feared that someone would pick Yeh-Shen rather than her own daughter.

The stepmother and the daughter left for the festival leaving Yeh-Shen behind. Yeh-Shen wanting desperately to go asked the bones for clothes to wear to the festival. Suddenly she was wearing a beautiful gown of azure blue with a cloak of kingfisher feathers draped around her shoulders. On her feet were beautiful slippers. They were woven of golden threads in a pattern of a scaled fish and the soles were made of solid gold. When she walked she felt lighter than air. She was warned not to lose the slippers.

Yeh-Shen arrived at the festival and soon all were looking her way. The daughter and step-mother moved closer to her for they seemed to recognize this beautiful person. Seeing that she would be found out, Yeh-Shen dashed out of the village leaving behind one of the golden slippers.

When she arrived home she was dressed again in her rags. She spoke again to the bones, but they were now silent. Saddened she put the one golden slipper in her bedstraw. After a time a merchant found the lost slipper, and seeing the value in the golden slipper sold it to a merchant who gave it to the king of the island kingdom of T’o Han.

Now the king wanted to find the owner of this tiny beautiful slipper. He sent his people to search the kingdom but no one’s foot would fit in the tiny golden slipper. He had the slipper placed on display in a pavilion on the side of the road where the slipper had been found with an announcement that the shoe was to be returned to the owner.

The king’s men waited out of sight. All the women came to try on the shoe. One dark night Yeh-Shen slipped quietly across the pavilion, took the tiny golden slipper and turned to leave, but the king’s men rushed out and arrested her. She was taken to the king who was furious for he couldn’t believe that any one in rags could possibly own a golden slipper. As he looked closer at her face he was struck by her beauty and he noticed she had the tiniest feet.The king and his men returned home with her where she produced the other slipper. As she slipped on the two slippers her rags turned into the beautiful gown and cloak she had worn to the festival. The king realized that she was the one for him. They married and lived happily ever after.

However, the stepmother and daughter were never allowed to visit Yeh-Shen and were forced to continue to live in their cave until the day they were crushed to death in a shower of flying stones.

Egyptian CinderellaBy Shirley Climo

Once upon a time, there was a girl who got kidnapped from Greece. Her name was Rhodopis. It meant "rosy cheeked." The people who kidnapped Rhodopis were pirates, and she was taken across the Nile River. When she reached Egypt she was sold as a slave.

When she saw the house-girl servants, she felt different and she was. She had pale skin and her cheeks were rosy. Her hair was gold and blew when the wind was windy, and their hair was black and stayed straight. Her eyes were green and theirs are brown. They would tease her and make fun of her. They made sure that she did all the work, like washing clothes, weeding the garden, and making their food for them. But her master was kind and old. When the days were hot, he would sleep underneath a fig tree.

Rhodopis found friends with the animals. But one day her master awakened and saw her dance and said, "No goddess is more quiet!" Then he said, "Such a gift deserves a reward." Then he demanded a pair of red-rose gold slippers. When the servant girls saw Rhodopis' slippers they were very jealous.

Then one afternoon, the master of the servant girls learned that the pharaoh was holding court. There would be music, dancing, and lots of food. "Sorry, Rhodopis. You can't go," said Kipa. "You have to wash the linen, grind the grain, and weed the garden." So the next day they left to go to the court. Kipa was wearing blue beads, the second was wearing colored bracelets, and the third wore a colored sash. But one of Rhodopis' friends was the hippopotamus. When Rhodopis sang to him he would usually enjoy it, and when the servant girls left she sang to him. He soon got tired of her singing the same song over and over. Then he splashed her new slippers and she scolded him.

After she cleaned her shoe, she put it behind her and did the rest of her chores. The god Horus came down from the sky as a falcon and took her slipper. Then she started to cry. When the falcon reached the pharaoh, he gave the pharaoh the

slipper, since it was bright he thought it was scrap of the sun. Then he realized that it was a gift and said, "All the gods and goddesses give us pharaohs something so we know who the perfect wife for us."

He immediately set out to find whoever could find fit the slipper. A lot of the girls wanted to try on the slipper but no one’s foot could fit in the slipper. So he set out to go by the Nile River, and finally found the last little house. He raised the slipper and the servant girls knew whose it was, but they tried it on anyway. Neither one’s foot could fit. Then the pharaoh saw Rhodopis and asked if she would try on the slipper. She did and it fit. Then she became the queen.

The Wicked StepmotherIndia

One day a Brahman adjured his wife not to eat anything without him lest she should become a she goat. In reply the Brahman's wife begged him not to eat anything without her, lest he should be changed into a tiger. A long time passed by and neither of them broke their word, until one day the Brahman's wife, while giving food to her children, herself took a little to taste; and her husband was not present. That very moment she was changed into a goat.

When the Brahman came home and saw the she goat running about the house he was intensely grieved, because he knew that it was none other than his own beloved wife. He kept the goat tied up in the yard of his house, and tended it very carefully.

In a few years he married again, but this wife was not kind to the children. She at once took a dislike to them, and treated them unkindly and gave them little food. Their mother, the she goat, heard their complaints, and noticed that they were getting thin, and therefore called one of them to her secretly, and bade the child tell the others to strike her horns with a stick whenever they were very hungry, and some food would fall down for them. They did so, and instead of getting weaker and thinner, as their stepmother had expected, they became stronger and stronger. She was surprised to see them getting so fat and strong while she was giving them so little food.

In course of time a one-eyed daughter was born to this wicked woman. She loved the girl with all her heart, and grudged not any expense or attention that she thought the child required. One day, when the girl had grown quite big and could walk and talk well, her mother sent her to play with the other children, and ordered her to notice how and whence they obtained anything to eat. The girl promised to do so, and most rigidly stayed by them the whole day, and saw all that happened.

On hearing that the goat supplied her stepchildren with food the woman got very angry, and determined to kill the beast as soon as possible. She pretended to be very ill, and sending for the hakim, bribed him to prescribe some goat's flesh for her. The Brahman was very anxious about his wife's state, and although he grieved to have to slay the goat (for he was obliged to kill the goat, not having money to purchase another), yet he did not mind if his wife really recovered. But the little children wept when they heard this, and went to their mother, the she goat, in great distress, and told her everything.

"Do not weep, my darlings," she said. "It is much better for me to die than to live such a life as this. Do not weep. I have no fear concerning you. Food will be provided for you, if you will attend to my instructions. Be sure to gather my bones, and bury them all together in some secret place, and whenever you are very hungry go to that place and ask for food. Food will then be given you."

The poor she goat gave this advice only just in time. Scarcely had it finished these words and the children had departed than the butcher came with a knife and slew it. Its body was cut into pieces and cooked, and the stepmother had the meat, but the stepchildren got the bones. They did with them as they had been directed, and thus got food regularly and in abundance.

Some time after the death of the she goat one morning one of the stepdaughters was washing her face in the stream that ran by the house, when her nose ring unfastened and fell into the water. A fish happened to see it and swallowed it, and this fish was caught by a man and sold to the king's cook for his majesty's dinner. Great was the surprise of the cook when, on opening the fish to clean it, he found the nose ring. He took it to the king, who was so interested in it that he issued a proclamation and set it to every town and village in his dominions, that whosoever had missed a nose ring should apply to him. Within a few days the brother of the girl reported to the king that the nose ring belonged to his sister, who had lost it one day while bathing her face in the river. The king ordered the girl to appear before him, and was so fascinated by her pretty face and nice manner that he married her, and provided amply for the support of her family.

The Little Red Fish and the Golden ClogIraqi

Not here, not there, there lived a fisherman. His wife had drowned in the Great River and left him alone with his daughter, a pretty little girl of two years old. Nearby there lived a widow and her daughter. This woman began to come to the fisherman's house to care for the little girl and every time she did so she said to the child, "Am I not like a mother to you?" The fisherman said he would never re-marry for stepmothers always hate their husband's children; but when his daughter grew older she began to say, "Why don't you marry our neighbour, Father? There is no evil in her and she loves me as much as her own daughter."

They say that water will wear away stone, and in the end, the fisherman married the widow. The wedding week was hardly over when she began to feel jealous of her husband's daughter. She saw how much her father loved the child, and she saw that she was fair, and quick, while her own daughter was thin and pale and so clumsy she could not sew the seam of her gown.

As soon as she was mistress of the house the stepmother began to leave all the work for the fisherman's daughter to do. She would not give her stepchild soap to wash her hair and feet, and she fed her nothing but crusts and crumbs. The girl bore this patiently, saying not a word, but she thought "I picked up the scorpion with my own hand so I'll save myself with my own mind."

Besides all her other tasks, the fisherman's daughter had to go down to the river each day to bring home her father's catch. One day a little red fish spoke to her

Child with such patience to endure,I beg you now, my life secure. Throw me back into the water, And now and always be my daughter.

The girl listened, half in wonder and half in fear. Then she threw the fish into the river. The fish called out

Your kindness is not in vain A new mother do you gain.Come to me when you are sad,And I shall help to make you glad.

The girl went back to the house and gave the three remaining fishes to her stepmother. When the fisherman returned and asked about the fourth she told him, "Father, the little red fish dropped from my basket and I couldn't find it again." "Never mind," he said, "it was a very small fish." But her stepmother began to scold, "You didn't tell me there were four fishes. Go and look for it, before I curse you!"

It was past sunset and the girl had to walk back to the river in the dark. With tears in her eyes she stood on the water's edge and called out,

Red fish, my mother and nurse,Come quickly, and save me from a curse.

The little red fish appeared and gave her a gold piece. The girl gave it to her stepmother who soon forgot all about the missing fish.

The years came and the years went, and life in the fisherman's house continued as before. Nothing changed except that the two little girls became young women.

One day a great man, the Master of the Merchants' Guild, announced that his daughter was to be married. It was the custom for the women to gather at the bride's house on the 'Day of the Bride's Henna' to celebrate and sing as the girls' feet, palms, and arms were decorated with red henna stain for the wedding. Every mother brought their unmarried daughters to be seen by the mothers of sons and thus many a girl's future was decided on such a day. The fisherman's wife rubbed and scrubbed her daughter and dressed her in her finest gown and hurried her off to the merchant's house with the rest. The fisherman's daughter was left at home to fill the water jar and sweep the yard.

As soon as the two women were out of sight the fisherman's daughter gathered up her gown and ran down to the river to tell the little red fish of her sorrow. "You shall go to the bride's Henna and sit on the cushions in the centre of the hall" said the little red fish. She gave the girl a small bundle. "Here is everything you need to wear and a comb of pearl for your hair and clogs of gold for your feet" it said. "But one thing you must remember, be sure to leave before your stepmother rises to go."

Quickly the fisherman's daughter washed and dressed herself and tucked the comb of pearl into her hair and slipped the golden clogs on to her feet and went off to the feast. Women from every house in the town were there. They admired her face and her grace, and they thought, "Surely this must be the Governor's daughter!" They brought her sherbet and cakes made with almonds and honey and they sat her in the place of honour in the middle of the hall. She looked for her stepmother with her daughter and saw them far off, near the door where the peasants were sitting with the wives of weavers and pedlars.

Her stepmother stared at her but did not recognise her own husband's daughter! Before the rest of the women stood to leave the fisherman's daughter went to the mother of the bride and said "May it be with God's blessings and bounty, O my aunt" and hurried out. The sun had set and darkness was falling. On her way home the girl had to cross a bridge over the stream that flowed into the king's garden and, by fate, as she ran over the bridge, one of her golden clogs fell off into the river below. It was too far to climb down to the water and search in the dusk so the girl took off her other shoe and, pulling her cloak around her, dashed on her way.

When she reached the house she took off her fine clothes, rolled the pearly comb and golden clog inside them, and hid them under the woodpile. She rubbed her head and hands and feet with earth to make them dirty and was standing leaning on her broom when her stepmother arrived home.

Meanwhile, the current carried the golden clog into the king's garden and rolled it into the pool where the king's son led his stallion to drink. Next day as the prince was watering the horse something made it shy and step back. He called to the groom, and from the mud the man brought him the shining clog of gold.

When the prince held the beautiful thing in his hand, he began to imagine the beautiful little foot that had worn it. He walked back to the palace with his heart busy and his mind full of the girl who owned so precious a shoe. The queen saw him lost in thought and said, "May Allah send us good news; why so care-worn, my son?" "Mother, I want you to find me a wife!" said the prince. "So much thought over one wife?" said the queen. "I'll find you a thousand wives!" "I want to marry only the girl who owns this clog," replied the prince.

The very next day the queen went to work. She went to the houses of nobles and merchants and goldsmiths. She saw the daughters of craftsmen and traders. She went into the huts of the water carriers and street sweepers. But she could not find the girl whose foot fitted into the golden clog.

When the fisherfolk were told that the queen was coming to visit their houses, the fisherman's wife bathed her daughter and dressed her in her best, she rinsed her hair with henna and rimmed her eyes with kohl and rubbed her cheeks till they glowed red. But still when the girl stood beside the fisherman's daughter it was like a candle in the sun.

The stepmother pushed her stepdaughter into the bakehouse and covered its mouth with the round clay tray on which she spread her dough. "Don't you dare move until I come for you!" she said.

Just then the queen arrived with the golden clog but a cock flew into the yard crowing

Cock-doodle-dowLet the king's wife knowThey put the ugly one on showAnd hide the beauty down below!

The stepmother raced out and flapped her arms to chase the cock away but the queen had heard the words and she sent her servants to search the yard. When they pushed aside the cover from the mouth of the oven they found a girl as fair as the moon in the midst of the ashes. They brought her to the queen and the golden clog fitted her foot as if it had been the mould from which her foot was cast.

The queen was satisfied. She said, "From this hour that daughter of yours is betrothed to my son. Make ready for the wedding. God willing, the procession shall come for her on Friday." And she gave the stepmother a purse filled with gold.When the woman realised that her plans had failed, that her husband's daughter was to marry the prince while her own was to remain in the house, she was filled with anger and rage. "I'll see that he sends her back before the wedding night is out" she said. She took the purse of gold, ran to the bazaar, and asked for a purge so strong that it would shred the bowels to tatters. At the sight of the gold the perfumer began to mix the powders in his tray. Then she asked for arsenic and lime, which weaken hair and make it fall out, and an ointment that smelled like carrion.

Now the stepmother began to prepare the bride for her wedding. She washed her hair with henna mixed with the arsenic and lime, and spread the foul ointment over it. Then she held the girl by the ear and poured the purge down her throat. Soon the wedding procession arrived, with horses and drums, fluttering bright clothes, and the sounds of celebration. They lifted the bride onto the litter and took her away. She came to the palace and entered the chamber. The prince lifted the veil and she shone like a full moon. A scent of amber and roses made the prince press his face to her hair. He ran his fingers over her locks and it was like a man playing with cloth-of-gold. Now the bride began to feel a heaviness in her belly and from under the hem of her gown there fell gold pieces till the carpet and the cushions were covered with them.

Meanwhile the stepmother waited in her doorway expecting the bride to be brought back in disgrace. But nothing happened and news of the prince's beautiful wife began to fill the town. A merchant's son heard the story and said to his mother, "They say that the prince's bride has a sister, I want her for my bride." Going to the fisherman's hut his mother gave the fisherman's wife a purse of gold and told her to prepare the bride. The fisherman's wife said to herself, "If what I did for my husband's daughter turned her hair to threads of gold and her belly to a fountain of coins I shall do the same for my own child." She hastened to the perfumer and asked for the same powders and drugs, but stronger than before. Then she prepared her child. The wedding procession came and carried the bride off to the merchant's house but when the merchant's son lifted her veil it was like lifting the cover off a grave, the stink was so strong that it choked him and her hair came away in his hands. They wrapped the poor bride in her filthy clothes and carried her back to her mother.

As for the prince, he lived with the fisherman's daughter in great happiness and joy, and God blessed them with seven children like seven golden birds.

Mulberry, mulberrySo ends my story.If my house were not so farI'd bring you figs and raisins in a jar.

Little Gold StarBy Joe Hayes, from his book, The Day It Snowed Tortillas

A long time ago there was a man whose wife had died. He had just one daughter, and her name was Arcia. Their neighbor was a woman whose husband had died. And she had two daughters.

Every day as Arcia walked down the street past the woman's house, the woman came out and gave her something good to eat. She gave her sweet little cookies called biscochitos, or sopaipillas with honey, and sometimes milk to drink. One day Arcia said to her father, "Papa, why don't you marry that woman? She's so good to me! She gives me sopaipillas almost every day."

But her father didn't want to. He said: "No, Mi 'jita … Si hoy nos da sopaipillas con miel, manana nos dara sopaipillas con hiel!"-"No, Daughter … If today she gives us sopaipillas with honey, tomorrow she'll give us sopaipillas with gall!"

But Arcia protested, "No, Papa! She's a nice woman. You should marry her." And she talked her father into it! For a while everything was fine. But before long the girls started quarreling among themselves, and the woman no

longer liked Arcia and began to be very unkind to her. She bought all sorts of fine things for her own daughters-pretty dresses and jewels for them to wear. But when Arcia's shoes wore out, she wouldn't even buy new ones. So Arcia had to go around barefoot.

Finally the bedroom was so full of the beautiful things that belonged to the stepsisters that there wasn't room for Arcia to sleep there. She had to move down to the kitchen and sleep next to the stove. This went on for some time.

Then one day the man went to his ranch in the mountains, and when he returned he brought with him three young sheep. He gave one sheep to each girl. "Tend your sheep carefully," he told each girl. "When it is full-grown, you can sell it and keep the money. Or if you prefer, I'll butcher it and the family can eat the meat-whichever you wish."

So the girls began raising their sheep. Arcia took the best care of hers. Before long, it was the fattest of the three. One day she told her father, "Papa, I want you to kill my sheep and butcher it. I'm going to roast it and invite the whole village for a big supper."

So her father took the sheep and killed it. And back in those days, people were very poor. They couldn't afford to waste any part of an animal they had killed. They would even use the intestines-the tripitas they called them. So when the man had cleaned out the sheep, he told Arcia to take the tripitas down to the river to wash them.

Well, for a child nowadays, that would be a very unpleasant task. But in those times they thought nothing of it. Arcia picked up the insides of her sheep and went down to the river to wash them off. Suddenly a big hawk swooped down out of the sky and snatched the tripitas from her hand.

Arcia called out to the hawk, "Senor Gavilan, bring those things back to me, please." The hawk called down to her: "Look … where … I … flyyyy …"

So she did. She looked up to see where the bird had gone. And when she looked up, down from the sky came a little gold star, and it fastened itself right on her forehead.

She went running home, and when her stepsisters saw her, they were jealous. "Oh!" they whispered. "Why shouldn't we have a gold star on our foreheads too?" So they went looking for their stepfather to have him butcher their sheep.The first one found him and ordered him to kill her sheep. She went down to the river with the insides and began to wash them off. For a second time the hawk swooped down and snatched them away. "Gavilan malvido!" she screamed. "You rotten bird, bring those things back to me!"

The hawk called down to her: "Look…where…I… flyyyy…" But the girl replied: "Don't tell me where to look. I'll look wherever I please. Bring back my things this minute!"

But finally she did have to look up, to see where the hawk had gone. When she did, down from the sky came a long, floppy donkey ear, and it fastened itself to her forehead!

She ran home crying, and her mother gasped, "Bring me the scissors!" She took the scissors and snipped off the donkey ear. But a longer and floppier one grew in its place.

From that day on, everyone in the village called out "Oreja de Burro!" whenever the girl walked by. And that became her name-Donkey Ear!

But her sister hadn't heard what happened, and was already on her way to the river with the tripitas from her sheep. She knelt to wash them, and the hawk snatched them away.

"You good-for-nothing bird! Bring those back!" "Look, … where … I … flyyyy …" "I don't have to obey you. Bring back my things this instant!"

But she too had to look up to see where the hawk had gone. When she did, down from the sky came a long, green cow horn, fastening itself on her forehead. Her mother cried, "Bring me the saw!' She tried to saw the horn off, but the more she cut, the longer and greener it grew. From that day on, everyone called that girl Cuerno Verde-Green Horn!

Now it just so happened that right about this time the Prince of that land decided that he would like to get married. But he couldn't think of a single girl in his village who he might fall in love with. Then he got an idea. He decided to give a big party and invite the girls from all the villages throughout the mountains, so he could find one to be his bride.

The day of the party arrived, and Arcia helped her stepsisters get dressed in their fine gowns. She fixed their hair and tried to cover those strange things on their foreheads. Then she waved goodbye as they went off to the party. Arcia didn't even have pair of shoes, let alone a party dress, so she had to stay home.

But all by herself at home that night, she felt lonely. She thought, "It won't do any harm if I just go to the palace and peek in the window and see what a grand party is like." So she went and crept up to the palace window. When she peeked in, the gold star on her forehead started to shine more brightly than the sun! It caught everyone's attention.

The Prince said, "Bring that girl with the gold star in here!" His servants ran to get Arcia. But when she saw them coming she was frightened, and ran home as fast as she could.

The next day, the Prince and his servants started going from house to house, looking for the girl with the gold star. They arrived at Arcia's house, but her stepmother made her hide under the trough in the kitchen, and wouldn't even let her come out. Instead, the woman introduced her own daughters. "Your Majesty, perhaps these are the girls you are looking for. Aren't they lovely young women?"

The Prince looked and saw the donkey ear and the cow horn on the girls' foreheads. "No! I don't think these are the girls I had in mind," he said, backing toward the door. But just as he reached it, the cat came and rubbed against his ankle. "Naaauuu, naaauuu. Arcia debajo de la artesa esta."

"What?" demanded the Prince. "Did the cat say someone is under the trough?" "No," laughed the woman. "The cat's just hungry." She picked it up and threw it outside.

But the cat came back and rubbed against his other ankle. "Naaauuu. Arcia debajo de la artesa esta." The Prince insisted, "The cat says someone is under the trough. Who is it?"

He sent his servants to find out. When Arcia saw them approach, she stood up. And when she did, her ugly, dirty old clothes turned into a beautiful gown. The prince fell in love with her immediately, and asked her to marry him. Arcia said she would.

A few days later the wedding celebration began. It lasted nine days and nine nights-and the last day was better than the first. And everyone was invited-even the mean old stepmother and her two daughters, Cuerno Verde and Oreja de Burro.

The Story of Tam and CamVietnam

Long, long ago there was a man who lost his wife and lived with his little girl named Tam. Then he married again a wicked woman. The little girl found this out on the first day after the wedding. There was a big banquet in the house, but Tam was shut up in a room all by herself instead of being allowed to welcome the guests and attend the feast.

Moreover, she had to go to bed without any supper. Things grew worse when a new baby girl was born in the house. The step-mother adored Cam--for Cam was the name

of the baby girl--and she told her husband so many lies about poor Tam that he would not have anything more to do with the latter.

"Go and stay away in the kitchen and take care of yourself, you naughty child," said the wicked woman to Tam. And she gave the little girl a dirty wretched place in the kitchen, and it was there that Tam was to live and work. At night, she was given a torn mat and a ragged sheet as bed and coverlet. She had to rub the floors, cut the wood, feed the animals, do all the cooking, the washing up and many other things. Her poor little soft hands had large blisters, but she bore the pain without complaint. Her step-mother also sent her to deep forests to gather wood with the secret hope that the wild beasts might carry her off. She asked Tam to draw water from dangerously deep wells so that she might get drowned one day. The poor little Tam worked and worked all day till her skin became swarthy and her hair entangled. But Sometimes she went to the well to draw water, looked at herself in it, and was frightened to realize how dark and ugly she was. She then got some water in the hollow of her hand, washed her face and combed her long smooth hair with her fingers, and the soft white skin appeared again, and she looked very pretty indeed.

When the step-mother realized how pretty Tam could look, she hated her more than ever, and wished to do her more harm. One day, she asked Tam and her own daughter Cam to go fishing in the village pond.

"Try to get as many as you can," she said. "If you come back with only a few of them, you will get flogged and will be sent to bed without supper." Tam knew that these words were meant for her because the step-mother would never beat Cam, who was the apple of her eyes, while she always flogged Tam as hard as she could.

Tam tried to fish hard and by the end of the day, got a basket full of fish. In the meantime, Cam spent her time rolling herself in the tender grass, basking in the warm sunshine, picking up wild flowers, dancing and singing. The sun set before Cam had even started her fishing. She looked at her empty basket and had a bright idea. "Sister, sister," she said to Tam, "your hair is full of mud. Why don't you step into the fresh water and get a good wash to get rid of it? Otherwise mother is going to scold you."

Tam listened to the advice, and had a good wash. But, in the meantime, Cam poured her sister's fish into her own basket and went home as quickly as she could. When Tam realized that her fish were stolen away, her heart sank and she began to cry bitterly. Certainly, her step-mother would punish her severely tonight!

Suddenly, a fresh and balmy wind blew, the sky looked purer and the clouds whiter and in front of her stood the smiling blue-robed Goddess of Mercy, carrying a lovely green willow branch with her. "What is the matter, dear child?" asked the Goddess in a sweet voice.

Tam gave her an account of her misfortune and added: "Most Noble Lady, what am I to do tonight when I go home? I am frightened to death, for my step-mother will not believe me, and will flog me very, very hard."

The Goddess of Mercy consoled her. "Your misfortune will be over soon. Have confidence in me and cheer up. Now, look at your basket to see whether there is anything left there."

Tam looked and saw a lovely small fish with red fins and golden eyes, and uttered a little cry of surprise. The Goddess told her to take the fish home, put it in the well at the back of the house, and feed it three times a day with what she could save from her own food.

Tam thanked the Goddess most gratefully and did exactly as she was told. Whenever she went to the well, the fish would appear on the surface to greet her. But should anyone else come, the fish would never show itself. Tam's strange behavior was noticed by her step-mother who spied on her, and went to the well to look for the fish which hid itself in the deep water. She decided to ask Tam to go to a faraway spring to fetch some water, and taking advantage of the absence, she put on the latter's ragged clothes, went to call the fish, killed it and cooked it.

When Tam came back, she went to the well, called and called, but there was no fish to be seen except the surface of the water stained with blood. She leaned her head against the well and wept in the most miserable way. The Goddess of Mercy appeared again, with a face as sweet as a loving mother, and comforted her: "Do not cry, my child. Your step-mother has killed the fish, but you must try to find its bones and bury them in the ground under your mat. Whatever you may wish to possess, pray to them, and your wish will be granted."

Tam followed the advice and looked for the fish bones everywhere but could find none. "Cluck! cluck!" said a hen, "Give me some paddy and I will show you the bones.

Tam gave her a handful of paddy and the hen said, "Cluck! cluck! Follow me and I will take you to the place." When they came to the poultry yard, the hen scratched a heap of young leaves, uncovered the fish bones which Tam gladly gathered and buried accordingly. It was not long before she got gold and jewelry and dresses of such wonderful materials that they would have rejoiced the heart of any young girl.

When the Autumn Festival came, Tam was told to stay home and sort out the two big baskets of black and green beans that her wicked step-mother had mixed up.

"Try to get the work done," she was told, "before you can go to attend the Festival." Then the step-mother and Cam put on their most beautiful dresses and went out by themselves.

After they had gone a long way Tam lifted her tearful face and prayed: "O, benevolent Goddess of Mercy, please help me." At once, the soft-eyed Goddess appeared and with her magic green willow branch, turned little flies into sparrows which sorted the beans out for the young girl. In a short time, the work was done. Tam dried up her tears, arrayed herself in a glittering blue and silver dress. She now looked as beautiful as a princess, and went to the Festival.

Cam was very surprised to see her, and whispered to her mother: "Is that rich lady not strangely like my sister Tam?" When Tam realized that her step-mother and Cam were staring curiously at her, she ran away, but in such a hurry that she dropped one of her fine slippers which the soldiers picked up and took to the King.

The King examined it carefully and declared he had never seen such a work of art before. He made the ladies of the palace try it on, but the slipper was too small even for those who had the smallest feet. Then he ordered all the noblewomen of the kingdom to try it, but the slipper would fit none of them. In the end, word was sent that the woman who could wear the slipper would become Queen, that is, the King's First Wife.

Finally, Tam had a try and the slipper fitted her perfectly. She then wore both slippers, and appeared in her glittering blue and silver dress, looking extremely beautiful. She was then taken to Court with a big escort, became Queen and had an unbelievably brilliant and happy life. The step-mother and Cam could not bear to see her happy and would have killed her most willingly, but they were too afraid of the King to do so.

One day, at her father's anniversary, Tam went home to celebrate it with her family. At the time, it was the custom that, however great and important one might be, one was always expected by one's parents to behave exactly like a young and obedient child. The cunning step-mother had this in her mind and asked Tam to climb an areca tree to get some nuts for the guests. As Tam was now Queen, she could of course refuse, but she was a very pious and dutiful daughter, and was only glad to help. But while she was up on the tree, she felt that it was swaying to and fro in the strangest and most alarming manner.

"What are you doing?" She asked her step-mother. "I am only trying to scare away the ants which might bite you, my dear child," was the reply. But in fact, the wicked

step-mother was holding a sickle and cutting the tree which fell down in a crash, killing the poor Queen at once. "Now we are rid of her," said the woman with a hateful and ugly laugh, "and she will never come back again. We shall

report to the King that she has died in an accident and my beloved daughter Cam will become Queen in her stead!" Things happened exactly the way she had planned, and Cam became now the King's first wife. But Tam's pure and

innocent soul could not find any rest. It was turned into the shape of a nightingale which dwelt in the King's garden and sang sweet and melodious songs.

One day, one of the maids-of-honor in the Palace exposed the dragon-embroidered gown of the King to the sun, and the nightingale sang in her own gentle way: "0, sweet maid-of-honor, be careful with my Imperial Husband's gown and do not tear it by putting it on a thorny hedge." She then sang on so sadly that tears came into the King's eyes. The nightingale sang more sweetly still and moved the hearts of all who heard her.

At last, the King said: "Most delightful nightingale, if you were the soul of my beloved Queen, be pleased to settle in my wide sleeves."

Then the gentle bird went straight into the King's sleeves and rubbed her smooth head against the King's hand. The bird was now put in a golden cage near the King's bedroom. The King was so fond of her that he would stay all day long near the cage, listening to her melancholy and beautiful songs. As she sang her melodies to him, his eyes became wet with tears, and she sang more charmingly than ever.

Cam became jealous of the bird, and sought her mother's advice about it. One day, while the King was holding a council with his ministers, Cam killed the nightingale, cooked it and threw the feathers in the Imperial Garden.

"What is the meaning of this?" said the King when he came back to the Palace and saw the empty cage. There was great confusion and everybody looked for the nightingale but could not find it.

"Perhaps she was bored and has flown away to the woods," said Cam. The King was very sad but there was nothing he could do about it, and resigned himself to his fate. But once more,

Tam's restless soul was transformed into big, magnificent tree, which only bore a single fruit, but what a fruit! It was round, big and golden and had a very sweet smell.

An old woman passing by the tree and seeing the beautiful fruit, said: "Golden fruit, golden fruit, drop into the bag of this old woman. This one will keep you and enjoy your smell, but will never eat you." The fruit at once dropped into the old woman's bag. She brought it home, put it on the table to enjoy its sweet-scented smell. But the next day, to her great surprise, she found her house clean and tidy, and a delicious hot meal waiting for her when she came back from her errands as though some magic hand had done all this during her absence.

She then pretended to go out the following morning, but stealthily came back, hid herself behind the door and observed the house. She beheld a fair and slender lady coming out of the golden fruit and starting to tidy the house. She rushed in, tore the fruit peel up so that the fair lady could no longer hide herself in it. The young lady could not help but stay there and consider the old woman her own mother.

One day the King went on a hunting party and lost his way. The evening drew on, the clouds gathered and it was pitch dark when he saw the old woman's house and went in it for shelter. According to custom, the latter offered him some tea and betel. The King examined the delicate way the betel was prepared and asked: "Who is the person who made this betel, which looks exactly like the one prepared by my late beloved Queen?"

The old woman said in a trembling voice: "Son of Heaven, it is only my unworthy daughter." The King then ordered the daughter to be brought to him and when she came and bowed to him, he realized, like in a

dream, that it was Tam, his deeply regretted Queen. Both of them wept after such a separation and so much unhappiness. The Queen was then taken back to the Imperial City, where she took her former rank, while Cam was completely neglected by the King.

Cam then thought: "If I were as beautiful as my sister, I would win the King's heart." She asked the Queen: "Dearest Sister, how could I become as white as you?" "It is very easy," answered the Queen. "You have only to jump into a big basin of boiling water to get beautifully white."

Cam believed her and did as suggested. Naturally she died without being able to utter a word! When the step-mother heard about this she wept until she became blind. Soon, she died of a broken heart. The Queen survived both of them, and lived happily ever after, for she certainly deserved it.

Mufaro's Beautiful DaughtersZimbabwe

A LONG TIME AGO, in a certain place in Africa, a small village lay across a river and half a day's journey from a city where a great king lived. A man named Mufaro lived in this village with his two daughters, who were called Manyara and Nyasha. Everyone agreed that Manyara and Nyasha were very beautiful.

Manyara was almost always in a bad temper. She teased her sister whenever their father's back was turned, and she had been heard to say, "Someday, Nyasha, I will be a queen, and you will be a servant in my household."

"If that should come to pass," Nyasha responded, "I will be pleased to serve you. But why do you say such things? You are clever and strong and beautiful. Why are you so unhappy?"

"Because everyone talks about how kind you are, and they praise everything you do," Manyara replied. "I'm certain that Father loves you best. But when I am a queen, everyone will know that your silly kindness is only weakness."

Nyasha was sad that Manyara felt this way, but she ignored her sister's words and went about her chores. Nyasha kept a small plot of land, on which she grew millet, sunflowers, yams, and vegetables. She always sang as she worked, and some said it was her singing that made her crops more bountiful than anyone else's.

One day, Nyasha noticed a small garden snake resting beneath a yam vine. "Good day, little Nyoka," she called to him. "You are welcome here. You will keep away any creatures who might spoil my vegetables." She bent forward, gave the little snake a loving pat on the head, and then returned to her work. From that day on, Nyoka was always at Nyasha's side when she tended her garden. It was said that she sang all the more sweetly when he was there.

Mufaro knew nothing of how Manyara treated Nyasha. Nyasha was too considerate of her father's feelings to complain, and Manyara was always careful to behave herself when Mufaro was around. Early one morning, a messenger from the city arrived. The Great King wanted a wife. "The Most Worthy and Beautiful Daughters in the Land are invited to appear before the King, and he will choose one to become Queen!" the messenger proclaimed.

Mufaro called Manyara and Nyasha to him. "It would be a great honor to have one of you chosen," he said. "Prepare yourselves to journey to the city. I will call together all our friends to make a wedding party. We will leave tomorrow as the sun rises.

"But, my father," Manyara said sweetly, "it would be painful for either of us to leave you, even to be wife to the king. I know Nyasha would grieve to death if she were parted from you. I am strong. Send me to the city, and let poor Nyasha be happy here with you." Mufaro beamed with pride. "The king has asked for the most worthy and the most beautiful. No, Manyara, I cannot send you alone. Only a king can choose between two such worthy daughters. Both of you must go!"

That night, when everyone was asleep, Manyara stole quietly out of the village. She had never been in the forest at night before, and she was frightened, but her greed to be the first to appear before the king drove her on. In her hurry, she almost stumbled over a small boy who suddenly appeared, standing in the path.

"Please," said the boy. "I am hungry. Will you give me something to eat?""I have brought only enough for myself," Manyara replied."But, please!" said the boy. "I am so very hungry.""Out of my way, boy! Tomorrow I will become your queen. How dare you stand in my path?"After traveling for what seemed to be a great distance, Manyara came to a small clearing. There, silhouetted against

the moonlight, was an old woman seated on a large stone. The old woman spoke. "I will give you some advice, Manyara. Soon after you pass the place where two paths cross, you will see a grove of trees. They will laugh at you. You must not laugh in return. Later, you will meet a man with his head under his arm. You must be polite to him."

"How do you know my name? How dare you advise your future queen? Stand aside, you ugly old woman!" Manyara scolded, and then rushed on her way without looking back.

Just as the old woman had foretold, Manyara came to a grove of trees, and they did indeed seem to be laughing at her. "I must be calm," Manyara thought. "I will not be frightened." She looked up at the trees and laughed out loud. "I laugh at you, trees!" she shouted, and she hurried on. It was not yet dawn when Manyara heard the sound of rushing water. "The river must be up ahead," she thought. "The great city is just on the other side." But there, on the rise, she saw a man with his head tucked under his arm. Manyara ran past him without speaking. "A queen acknowledges only those who please her," she said to herself. "I will be queen. I will be queen," she chanted, as she hurried on toward the city.

Nyasha woke at the first light of dawn. As she put on her finest garments, she thought how her life might be changed forever beyond this day. "I'd much prefer to live here," she admitted to herself "I'd hate to leave this village and never see my father or sing to little Nyoka again."

Her thoughts were interrupted by loud shouts and a commotion from the wedding party assembled outside. Manyara was missing! Everyone bustled about, searching and calling for her. When they found her footprints on the path that led to the city, they decided to go on as planned. As the wedding party moved through the forest, brightly plumed birds darted about in the cool green shadows beneath the trees. Though anxious about her sister Nyasha was soon filled with excitement about all there was to see.

They were deep in the forest when she saw the small boy standing by the side of the path. "You must be hungry," she said, and handed him a yam she had brought for her lunch. The boy smiled and

disappeared as quietly as he had come.Later, as they were approaching the place where the two paths crossed, the old woman appeared and silently pointed

the way to the city. Nyasha thanked her and gave her a small pouch filled with sunflower seeds.The sun was high in the sky when the party came to the grove of towering trees. Their uppermost branches seemed to

bow down to Nyasha as she passed beneath them. At last, someone announced that they were near their destination.Nyasha ran ahead and topped the rise before the others could catch up with her. She stood transfixed at her first sight

of the city. "Oh, my father," she called. "A great spirit must stand guard here! Just look at what lies before us. I never in all my life dreamed there could be anything so beautiful!"

Arm in arm, Nyasha and her father descended the hill, crossed the river, and approached the city gate. Just as they entered through the great doors, the air was rent by piercing cries, and Manyara ran wildly out of a chamber at the center of the enclosure. When she saw Nyasha, she fell upon her, sobbing. "Do not go to the king, my sister. Oh, please, Father, do not let her go!" she cried hysterically. "There's a great monster there, a snake with five heads! He said that he knew all my faults and that I displeased him. He would have swallowed me alive if I had not run. Oh, my sister, please do not go inside that place." It frightened Nyasha to see her sister so upset. But, leaving her father to comfort Manyara, she bravely made her way to the chamber and opened the door.

On the seat of the great chiefs stool lay the little garden snake. Nyasha laughed with relief and joy. "My little friend!" she exclaimed. "It's such a pleasure to see you, but why are you here?"

"I am the king," Nyoka replied. And there, before Nyasha's eyes, the garden snake changed shape."I am the king. I am also the hungry boy with whom you shared a yam in the forest and the old woman to whom you

made a gift of sunflower seeds. But you know me best as Nyoka. Because I have been all of these, I know you to be the Most Worthy and Most Beautiful Daughter in the Land. It would make me very happy if you would be my wife."

And so it was that, a long time ago, Nyasha agreed to be married. The king's mother and sisters took Nyasha to their house, and the wedding preparations began. The best weavers in the land laid out their finest cloth for her wedding garments.

Villagers from all around were invited to the celebration, and a great feast was held. Nyasha prepared the bread for the wedding feast from millet that had been brought from her village.

Mufaro proclaimed to all who would hear him that he was the happiest father in all the land, for he was blessed with two beautiful and worthy daughters-Nyasha, the queen; and Manyara, a servant in the queen's household.