The two sisters began immediately to be very busy in preparing for the happy day.  Nothing could exceed their joy.  Every moment of their time was spent in fancying such gowns, shoes, and head-dresses as would set them off to the greatest advantage.  All this was new vexation to poor Cinderella, for it was she who ironed and plaited her sisters’ linen.  They talked of nothing but how they should be dressed:  “I,” said the eldest, “will wear my scarlet velvet with French trimming.”  “And I,” said the youngest, “shall wear the same petticoat I had made for the last ball.  But then, to make amends for that, I shall put on my gold muslin train, and wear my diamonds in my hair; with these I must certainly look well.”  They sent several miles for the best hair dresser that was to be had, and all their ornaments were bought at the most fashionable shops.  On the morning of the ball, they called up Cinderella to consult with her about their dress, for they knew she had a great deal of taste.  Cinderella gave them the best advice she could, and even offered to assist in adjusting their head-dresses; which was exactly what they wanted, and they accordingly accepted her proposal.  While Cinderella was busily engaged in dressing her sisters, they said to her, “Should you not like, Cinderella, to go to the ball?” “Ah!” replied Cinderella, “you are only laughing at me, it is not for such as I am to think of going to balls.”  “You are in the right,” said they, “folks might laugh indeed, to see a Cinderbreech dancing in a ball room.”  Any other than Cinderella would have tried to make the haughty creatures look as ugly as she could; but the sweet tempered girl on the contrary, did every thing she could think of to make them look well.  The sisters had scarcely eaten any thing for two days, so great was their joy as the happy day drew near.  More than a dozen laces were broken in endeavouring to give them a fine slender shape, and they were always before the looking glass.  At length the much wished for moment arrived; the proud misses stepped into a beautiful carriage, and, followed by servants in rich liveries, drove towards the palace.  Cinderella followed them with her eyes as far as she could; and when they were out of sight, she sat down in a corner and began to cry.  Her godmother, who saw her in tears, asked her what ailed her.  “I wish——­I w-i-s-h—­” sobbed poor Cinderella, without being able to say another word.  The godmother, who was a fairy, said to her, “You wish to go to the ball, Cinderella, is not this the truth?” “Alas! yes,” replied the poor child, sobbing still more than before.  “Well, well, be a good girl,” said the godmother, “and you shall go.”  She then led Cinderella to her bedchamber, and said to her:  “Run into the garden and bring me a pumpkin.”  Cinderella flew like lightning, and brought the finest she could lay hold of.  Her godmother scooped out the inside, leaving nothing but the rind; she then struck it with her wand, and the pumpkin instantly became a fine coach gilded all