THE CINDERELLA FROCK. 45

her brothers had nicknamed it ‘the tribu-
nal,’’ and played at ‘‘ Judgment”’ in it,) she
actually clapped her hands with delight.

What a metamorphosis! It was now a
stately picture gallery, and grander than any
thing the little country-bred girl had ever
dreamed of. Here was a brave lady in a stiff
antique dress, and there a pretty little maiden,
and faces of old people were there, and
glimpses of far off scenes, side by side with
their own home-hills and valleys, all so real,
and so life-like, Rovina almost believed her-
self under some fabled spell.

But there was one bright, beautiful thing in
a gilt frame, so placed, that just now the
sunshine streamed full upon it, that drew
Rovina’s attention, more than all the rest.
Cinderella! the very book she had been
reading. Yes, indeed, it was, Cinderella in
her mean garments, with the good fairy in the