“How do you like them slippers?” asked the old dame.
“Great!” says Cinderella. “I wished you had of made the rest of my garments of the same material.”
“Now, listen,” says the godmother: “don’t stay no later than midnight because just as soon as the clock strikes twelve, your dress will fall off and your chauffeur and so forth will change back into vermin.”
Well, Cinderella clumb in the car and they was about to start when the chauffeur got out and went around back of the tonneau.
“What’s the matter?” says Cinderella.
“I wanted to be sure my taillight was on,” says the rat.
Finally they come to Webster Hall and when Cinderella entered the ballroom everybody stopped dancing and looked at her pop-eyed. The Prince went nuts and wouldn’t dance with nobody else and when it come time for supper he got her two helpings of stewed rhubarb and liver and he also had her laughing herself sick at the different wows he pulled. Like for instance they was one occasion when he looked at her feet and asked her what was her shoes made of.
“Plate glass,” says Cinderella.
“Don’t you feel no pane?” asked the Prince.
Other guests heard this one and the laughter was general.
But finally it got to be pretty near twelve o’clock and Cinderella went home in her car and pretty soon Pat and Mike blowed in and found her in the ashcan and told her about the ball and how the strange gal had come and stole the show.
“We may see her again tomorrow night,” says Pat.
“Oh,” says Cinderella, “is they going to be another ball?”
“Why, no, you poor sap!” says Mike. “It’s a Marathon.”
“I wished I could go,” says Cinderella. “I could if you would leave me take your yellow dress.”
The two stepsisters both razzed her, little wreaking that it was all as she could do to help from laughing outright.
Anyway they both went back to the dance the next night and Cinderella followed them again, but this time the gin made her drowsy and before she realized it, the clock was striking twelve. So in her hurry to get out she threw a shoe and everybody scrambled for it, but the Prince got it. Meanw’ile on account of it being after midnight, the touring car had disappeared and Cindy had to walk home and her former chauffeur kept nibbling at her exposed foot and annoying her in many other ways.
Well, the Prince run a display ad the next morning that he would marry the gal who could wear the shoe and he sent a trumpeter and a shoe clerk to make a house to house canvass of Greater New York and try the shoe on all the dames they could find and finally they come to the clubman’s house and the trumpeter woke up the two stepsisters for a fitting. Well, Pat took one look at the shoe and seen they was no use. Mike was game and tried her best to squeeze into it, but flopped, as her dogs was also mastiffs. She got sore and asked the trumpeter why hadn’t he broughten a shoe horn instead of that bugle. He just laughed.
All of a sudden him and the shoe clerk catched a glimpse of Cinderella and seen that she had small feet and sure enough, the slipper fitted her and they run back to the Prince’s apartment to tell him the news.
“Listen, Scott,” they says, for that was the Prince’s name: “we have found the gal!”
So Cinderella and the Prince got married and Cinderella forgive her two stepsisters for how they had treated her and she paid a high-price dentist to fix Mike up with a removable bridge and staked Pat to a surgeon that advertised a new, safe method of exterminating wens.
That is all of the story, but it strikes me like the plot—with the poor, ragged little gal finally getting all the best of it—could be changed around and fixed up so as it would make a good idear for a play.
Red Riding Hood
Well, children, here is the story of little Red Riding Hood like I tell it to my little ones when they wake up in the morning with a headache after a tough night.
Well, one or two times they was a little gal that lived in the suburbs who they called her little Red Riding Hood because she always wore a red riding hood in the hopes that sometime a fresh guy in a high power roadster would pick her up and take her riding. But the rumor had spread the neighborhood that she was a perfectly nice gal, so she had to walk.
Red had a grandmother that lived over near the golf course and got in on most of the parties and one noon she got up and found that they wasn’t no gin in the house for her breakfast so she called up her daughter and told her to send Red over with a bottle of gin as she was dying.
So Red starts out with a quart under her arm but had not went far when she met a police dog. A good many people has police dogs, and brags about them and how nice they are for children and etc. but personly I would just as leaf have my kids spend their weekend swimming in the State Shark Hatchery.
Well, this special police dog was like the most of them and hated everybody. When he seen Red he spoke to her and she answered him. Even a dog was better than nothing. She told him where she was going and he pertended like he wasn’t paying no tension but no sooner had not she left him when he beat it up a alley and got to her grandmother’s joint ahead of
