By Catulle Mendes
There was once a kingdom where mirrors were unknown.
They had all been broken and reduced to fragments by orderof the queen， and if the tiniest bit of looking-glass had beenfound in any house， she would not have hesitated to put all theinmates to death with the most frightful tortures.
Now for the secret of this extraordinary caprice. The queenwas dreadfully ugly， and she did not wish to be exposed tothe risk of meeting her own image； and， knowing herself tobe hideous， it was a consolation to know that other women atleast could not see that they were pretty.
You may imagine that the young girls of the country werenot at all satisfied. What was the use of being beautiful if youcould not admire yourself？
They might have used the brooks and lakes for mirrors； butthe queen had foreseen that， and had hidden all of them underclosely joined flagstones. Water was drawn from wells so deepthat it was impossible to see the liquid surface， and shallowbasins must be used instead of buckets， because in the latterthere might be reflections.
Such a dismal state of affairs， especially for the prettycoquettes， who were no more rare in this country than in others.
The queen had no compassion， being well content that hersubjects should suffer as much annoyance from the lack of amirror as she felt at the sight of one.
However， in a suburb of the city there lived a young girlcalled Jacinta， who was a little better off than the rest， thanksto her sweetheart， Valentin. For if someone thinks you arebeautiful， and loses no chance to tell you so， he is almost asgood as a mirror.
“Tell me the truth，” she would say； “what is the color of myeyes？”
“They are like dewy forget-me-nots.”
“And my skin is not quite black？”
“You know that your forehead is whiter than freshly fallensnow， and your cheeks are like blush roses.”
“How about my lips？”
“Cherries are pale beside them.”
“And my teeth， if you please？”
“Grains of rice are not as white.”
“But my ears， should I be ashamed of them？”
“Yes， if you would be ashamed of two little pink shellsamong your pretty curls.”
And so on endlessly； she delighted， he still more charmed，for his words came from the depth of his heart and she had thepleasure of hearing herself praised， he the delight of seeing her. Sotheir love grew more deep and tender every hour， and the day thathe asked her to marry him she blushed certainly， but it was notwith anger. But， unluckily， the news of their happiness reachedthe wicked queen， whose only pleasure was to torment others， andJacinta more than anyone else， on account of her beauty.
A little while before the marriage Jacinta was walking in theorchard one evening， when an old crone approached， askingfor alms， but suddenly jumped back with a shriek as if she hadstepped on a toad， crying： “Heavens， what do I see？”
“What is the matter， my good woman？ What is it you see？
Tell me.”
“The ugliest creature I ever beheld.”
“Then you are not looking at me，” said Jacinta， withinnocent vanity.
“Oh！ Alas！ yes， my poor child， it is you. I have been a long timeon this earth， but never have I met anyone so hideous as you！”
“What！ am I ugly？”
“A hundred times uglier than I can tell you.”
“But my eyes—”
“They are a sort of dirty gray； but that would be nothing ifyou had not such an outrageous squint！”
“My complexion—”
“It looks as if you had rubbed coal-dust on your foreheadand cheeks.”
“My mouth—”
“It is pale and withered， like a faded flower.”
“My teeth—”
“If the beauty of teeth is to be large and yellow， I never sawany so beautiful as yours.”
“But， at least， my ears—”