“Oh, please take back the one you gave them,” pleaded the mother.
“Do you mean Isabella’s gift, too?” asked the fairy.
“Oh, no,” the mother said. “Let her have her gift--but please, please take away the awful gift of my daughters!”
“Let me see,” said the fairy, “what Isabella says about that. Shall I take back the gift of your stepsisters, my dear?”
“Oh, please, please do!” cried Isabella. “I am so sorry that they are unhappy.”
“Very well, then,” said the fairy. “For Isabella’s sake, I shall take their gifts back, but only on one condition--that they promise to be kind and polite from now on.”
“Oh, we promise! We promise!” cried both stepsisters at once.
“Unless you keep your promise,” said the fairy, “the snakes and toads will come from your mouths again.” And the fairy disappeared as suddenly as she had come.
But the snakes and toads did not come again, for the stepsisters and their mother were very kind to every one ever after, and Isabella lived a happy life from that day.
“They just had to keep their promise, didn’t they?” commented Mary Frances. “I am glad they did, for I do not like people to break promises.”
“Neither do I,” agreed the Story Lady; “and that reminds me of one of our favorite stories--Coralie and the Magic Necklace.”
“Oh,” said Mary Frances, “but I like a story with magic in it.”
“Very well,” said the Story Lady, “I will tell you the story.”
ONCE there was a girl whose name was Coralie. She was a very pretty girl, and very clever. She was so bright in her lessons at school that all she needed to do was to read them over once, and she knew them.
She lived in a pretty home, and was a great pet. Her parents loved her dearly, and although they were not well off, they gave Coralie everything she wished for that they could afford. So, you see, she had all the comforts of life, if not the luxuries.
You would think she would have been a very happy child, wouldn’t you? Well, she would have been if she had not had one very dreadful fault. Sometimes she told only half the truth; sometimes she told only quarter the truth; sometimes she stretched the truth so far that she broke it.
Her parents did everything they could to cure her of her dreadful fault, but everything failed. Even being in her room for a whole day with only bread and butter and milk did not help her. At last they became almost desperate.