Yes said the prince but what is the true test of delicate.
Why said the old man who was probably the king if she is delicate why she probably can’t sleep over 49 eiderdown quilts and 28 mattresses provided they’s a pea parked under same which might disturb her. So they made her bed this day in these regards. They put a single green pea annext the spring and then piled 28 mattresses and 49 eider quilts on top of same and says if she can sleep on this quantity of bed clothing and not feel disturbed, why she can’t possibly be delicate and is therefore not a princess.
Well the princess went to bed at 10 o’clock on acct. of having called up everybody and nobody would come over and play double Canfield with her and finely she give up and went to bed and hadn’t been asleep more than 3 hrs. when she woke up and says I am very uncomfortable, they must be a pea under all these quilts. So they looked it up and sure enough they was a green pea under the quilts and mattresses. It made her miserable. She was practally helpless.
But the next day when she woke up they didn’t know if she was a princess or the reverse. Because lots of people had slept under those conditions and maybe it was the mattress or the springs that had made them miserable. So finely the king suggested why not give her a modern trial.
So the next evening but one they sent her to bed under these conditions:
The counterpane was concrete and right under it was 30 layers of tin plate and then come 4 bales of cotton and beneath that 50 ft. of solid rock and under the entire layout a canary’s feather.
“Now Princess,” they said to her in a friendly way, “if you can tell us the name of the bird which you are sleeping on under all these condiments, why then we will know you are a true princess and worthy to marry the prince.”
“Prince!” she said. “Is that the name of a dog?”
They all laughed at her in a friendly way.
“Why yes,” she said, “I can tell you the name of that bird. His name is Dickie.”
This turned the laugh on them and at the same time proved she was a true princess.
Tomorrow night I will try to tell you the story of how 6 men travelled through the wide world and the story will begin at 6:30 and I hope it won’t keep nobody up.
Cinderella
Once upon a time they was a prominent clubman that killed his wife after a party where she doubled a bid of four diamonds and the other side made four odd, giving them game and a $26.00 rubber. Well, she left him a daughter who was beginning to run absolutely hog wild and he couldn’t do nothing with her, so he married again, this time drawing a widow with two gals of her own, Patricia and Micaela.
These two gals was terrible. Pat had a wen, besides which they couldn’t nobody tell where her chin started and her neck left off. The other one, Mike, got into a brawl the night she come out and several of her teeth had came out with her. These two gals was impossible.
Well, the guy’s own daughter was a pip, so both her stepmother and the two stepsisters hated her and made her sleep in the ashcan. Her name was Zelda, but they called her Cinderella on account of how the ashes and clinkers clang to her when she got up noons.
Well, they was a young fella in the town that to see him throw his money around, you would of thought he was the Red Sox infield trying to make a double play. So everybody called him a Prince. Finally he sent out invitations to a dance for just people that had dress suits. Pat and Mike was invited, but not Cinderella, as her best clothes looked like they worked in a garage. The other two gals made her help them doll up and they kidded her about not going, but she got partly even by garnisheeing their hair with eau de garlic.
Well, Pat and Mike started for Webster Hall in a bonded taxi and they hadn’t much sooner than went when a little bit of an old dame stepped out of the kitchen sink and stood in front of Cinderella and says she was her fairy godmother.
“Listen,” says Cinderella: “don’t mention mother to me! I’ve tried two different kinds and they’ve both been a flop!”
“Yes, but listen yourself,” says the godmother: “wouldn’t you like to go to this here dance?”
“Who and the h⸺l wouldn’t!” says Cinderella.
“Well, then,” says the godmother, “go out in the garden and pick me a pumpkin.”
“You’re pie-eyed,” was Cinderella’s criticism, but anyway she went out and got a pumpkin and give it to the old dame and the last named touched it with her wand and it turned into a big, black touring car like murderers rides in.
Then the old lady made Cinderella go to the mousetrap and fetch her six mice and she prodded them with her wand and they each became a cylinder. Next she had her bring a rat from the rat trap and she turned him into a big city chauffeur, which wasn’t hardly any trouble.
“Now,” says the godmother, “fetch me a couple lizards.”
So Cinderella says, “What do you think this is, the zoo?” But she went in the living-room and choose a couple lizards off the lounge and the old lady turned them into footmen.
The next
