Cinderellis and the Glass Hill

Cinderellis and the Glass Hill

4.8 14
by Gail Carson Levine, Mark Elliott
     
 

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Ralph said, "Rain tomorrow."
Burt said, "Barley needs it. You're covered with cinders, Ellis."
Ralph thought that was funny. "That's funny." He laughed. "That's what we should call him— Cinderellis."
Burt guffawed.

In this unusual spin on an old favorite, Cinderlla is a boy! He's Cinderellis, and he has two

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Overview

Ralph said, "Rain tomorrow."
Burt said, "Barley needs it. You're covered with cinders, Ellis."
Ralph thought that was funny. "That's funny." He laughed. "That's what we should call him— Cinderellis."
Burt guffawed.

In this unusual spin on an old favorite, Cinderlla is a boy! He's Cinderellis, and he has two unfriendly brothers and no fairy godmother to help him out. Luckily, he does have magical powders, and he intends to use them to win the hand of his Princess Charming— that is, Marigold. The only problem is— Marigold thinks Cinderellis is a monster!

Gail Carson Levine is the author of Ella Enchanted, a spirited retelling of the "real" Cinderella fairy tale and a 1998 Newberry Honor Book. In this fourth of her Princess Tales, Levine brings new life and new fun into a little-known tale and proves that determination, imagination, and kindness can carry the day.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780060283360
Publisher:
HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date:
02/28/2000
Series:
Princess Tales Series
Pages:
112
Sales rank:
896,847
Product dimensions:
4.00(w) x 7.00(h) x 0.62(d)
Age Range:
8 - 12 Years

Read an Excerpt

One

Ellis was always lonely.

He lived with his older brothers, Ralph and Burt, on a farm that was across the moat from Biddle Castle. Ralph and Burt were best friends as well as brothers, but they wouldn’t let Ellis be a best friend too.

When he was six years old, Ellis invented flying powder. He sprinkled the powder on his tin cup, and the cup began to rise up the chimney. He stuck his head into the fireplace to see how far up it would go. (The fire was out, of course.)

The cup didn’t fly straight up. It zoomed from side to side instead, knocking soot and cinders down on Ellis’ head.

Ralph and Burt came in from the farm. Ellis ducked out of the fireplace. "I made my cup fly!" he yelled. The cup fell back down the chimney and tumbled out into the parlor. "Look! It just landed."

Ralph didn’t even turn his head. He said, "Rain tomorrow."

Burt said, "Barley needs it. You’re covered with cinders, Ellis."

Ralph thought that was funny. "That’s funny." He laughed. "That’s what we should call him--Cinderellis."

Burt guffawed. "You have a new name, Ellis--I mean Cinderellis."

"All right," Cinderellis said. "Watch! I can make my cup fly again." He sprinkled more powder on the cup, and it rose up the chimney again.

Ralph said, "Beans need weeding."

Burt said, "Hayneeds cutting."

Cinderellis thought, Maybe they’d be interested if the cup flew straight. What if I grind up my ruler and add it to the powder? That should do it.

But when the cup did fly straight, Ralph and Burt still wouldn’t watch.

They weren’t interested either when Cinderellis was seven and invented shrinking powder. Or when he was eight and invented growing powder and made his tin cup big enough to drink from again.

They wouldn’t even try his warm-slipper powder, which Cinderellis had invented just for them--to keep their feet warm on cold winter nights.

"Don’t want it," Ralph said.

"Don’t like it," Burt said.

Cinderellis sighed. Being an inventor was great, but it wasn’t everything.

In Biddle Castle Princess Marigold was lonely too. Her mother, Queen Hermione III, had died when Marigold was two years old. And her father, King Humphrey III, was usually away from home, on a quest for some magical object or wondrous creature. And the castle children were too shy to be friendly.

When Marigold turned seven, King Humphrey III returned from his latest quest. He had been searching for a dog tiny enough to live in a walnut shell. But instead of the dog, he’d found a normal-size kitten and a flea big enough to fill a teacup. He gave the kitten to Marigold and sent the flea to the Royal Museum of Quest Souvenirs.

Marigold loved the kitten. His fur was stripes of honey and orange, and his nose was pink. She named him Apricot and played with him all day in the throne room, throwing a small wooden ball for him to chase. The kitten enjoyed the game and loved this gentle lass who’d rescued him from being cooped up with that disgusting, hungry flea.

King Humphrey III watched his daughter play. What an adorable, sweet child she was! Soon she’d be an adorable, sweet maiden, and someone would want to marry her.

The king sat up straighter on his throne. It couldn’t be just anyone. The lad would have to be perfect, which didn’t necessarily mean rich or handsome. Perfect meant perfect--courageous, determined, a brilliant horseman. In other words, perfect.

When the time was right, he, King Humphrey III, would go on a quest for the lad.

Cinderellis and the Glass Hill. Copyright � by Gail Levine. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

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