The sisters had scarcely eaten for two days, and had broken a dozen staylaces a day, in trying to make themselves slender; but to-night they broke a dozen more, and lost their tempers over and over again before they had completed their toilet. When at last the happy moment arrived, Cinderella followed them to the coach; after it had whirled them away, she sat down by the kitchen fire and cried. Immediately her godmother, who was a fairy, appeared beside her. “What are you crying for, my little maid?” “Oh, I wish—I wish—” Her sobs stopped her. “You wish to go to the ball; isn’t it so?” Cinderella nodded. “Well then, be a good girl, and you shall go. First run into the garden and fetch me the largest pumpkin you can find.” Cinderella did not comprehend what this had to do with her going to the ball, but being obedient and obliging, she went. Her godmother took the pumpkin, and having scooped out all its inside, struck it with her wand; it became a splendid gilt coach, lined with rose-colored satin. “Now fetch me the mousetrap out of the pantry, my dear.” Cinderella brought it; it contained six of the fattest, sleekest mice. The fairy lifted up the wire door, and as each mouse ran out she struck it and changed it into a beautiful black horse. “But what shall I do for your coachman, Cinderella?” Cinderella suggested that she had seen a large black rat in the rat trap, and he might do for want of better. “You are right; go and look again for him.” He was found; and the fairy made him into a most respectable coachman, with the finest whiskers imaginable. She afterward took six lizards from behind the pumpkin frame, and changed them into six footmen, all in splendid livery, who immediately jumped up behind the carriage, as if they had been footmen all their days. “Well, Cinderella, now you can go to the ball.” “What, in these clothes?” said Cinderella piteously, looking down on her ragged frock. Her godmother laughed, and touched her also with the wand; at which her wretched threadbare jacket became stiff with gold, and sparkling with jewels; her woolen petticoat lengthened into a gown of sweeping satin, from underneath which peeped out her little feet, no longer bare, but covered with silk stockings, and the prettiest glass slippers in the world. “Now, Cinderella, depart; but remember, if you stay one instant after midnight, your carriage will become a pumpkin, your coachman a rat, your horses mice, and your footmen lizards; while you, yourself, will be the little cinder wench you were an hour ago.” Cinderella promised without fear, her heart was so full of joy.