Louisa May Alcott doc A Modern Cinderella: or The Little Old Show and Other Stories

This book contains four short stories by Louisa May Alcott: A Modern Cinderella, Debby's Debut, The Brothers, and Nelly's Hospital.A short story published in 1860 considered "modern"? Louisa May Alcott bestows a truly amusing and thoroughly modern retelling of The Brothers Grimm's Cinderella. Little Women is certainly Louisa May Alcott's best known book, but don't miss her refreshing version of this classic fairy tale, A Modern Cinderella. Alcott pokes fun throughout, describing a "cool blonde" as "having many cares those happy little housewives never know." What modern gal doesn't appreciate that those old, worn out shoes are dependable and will take you far--forget impractical glass slipper or stilettos! Decide which version you prefer. Extract: A MODERN CINDERELLA OR, THE LITTLE OLD SHOEHOW IT WAS LOST Among green New England hills stood an ancient house, many-gabled, mossy-roofed, and quaintly built, but picturesque and pleasant to the eye for a brook ran babbling through the orchard that encompassed it about, a garden-plat stretched upward to the whispering birches on the slope, and patriarchal elms stood sentinel upon the lawn, as they had stood almost a century ago, when the Revolution rolled that way and found them young.One summer morning, when the air was full of country sounds, of mowers in the meadow, black-birds by the brook, and the low of kine upon the hill-side, the old house wore its cheeriest aspect, and a certain humble history began."Nan!""Yes, Di."And a head, brown-locked, blue-eyed, soft-featured, looked in at the open door in answer to the call.Just bring me the third volume of 'Wilhelm Meister, ' there's a dear. It's hardly worth while to rouse such a restless ghost as I, when I'm once fairly laid."As she spoke, Di pulled up her black braids, thumped the pillow of the couch where she was lying, and with eager eyes went down the last page of her book."Nan!""Yes, Laura," replied the girl, coming back with the third volume for the literary cormorant, who took it with a nod, still too content upon the "Confessions of a Fair Saint" to remember the failings of a certain plain sinner."Don't forget the Italian cream for dinner. I depend upon it for it's the only thing fit for me this hot weather."And Laura, the cool blonde, disposed the folds of her white gown more gracefully about her, and touched up the eyebrow of the Minerva she was drawing."Little daughter!""Yes, father.""Let me have plenty of clean collars in my bag, for I must go at once and some of you bring me a glass of cider in about an hour --I shall be in the lower garden."The old man went away into his imaginary paradise, and Nan into that domestic purgatory on a summer day, -- the kitchen. There were vines about the windows, sunshine on the floor, and order everywhere but it was haunted by a cooking-stove, that family altar whence such varied incense rises to appease the appetite of household gods, before which such dire incantations are pronounced to ease the wrath and woe of the priestess of the fire, and about which often linger saddest memories of wasted temper, time, and toil.