Comparing Characters: Rabbit and Cinderella

One moonlit night, Rabbit snuck into a farmer’s garden. There he found an abundance of carrots. He grabbed a bunch to bring to his burrow. At dawn, the farmer woke up to find his garden half empty and Rabbit’s footprints leading away. The farmer came up with an idea to catch the pesky little thief.

The next night, Rabbit returned to the garden for what he hoped would be more easy pickings. He spied a figure standing in the garden. Thinking it was the farmer, Rabbit approached.

“Can I have some carrots?” Rabbit asked.

Silence.

“I tried some last night. They tasted better than any I’ve had before.”

Silence again.

Rabbit figured the farmer was asleep and tried to shake him awake. But his paws stuck fast to the farmer. Rabbit, the biggest trickster in town, had been tricked! The figure was a scarecrow coated in beeswax.

That morning, the farmer went out to the garden and found Rabbit stuck to the beeswax. He put Rabbit inside a box and closed the lid. Then he left him there. “I have to do my morning chores, but when I’m done I will come back and deal with you,” he said angrily.

A while later, Coyote walked by the garden. He saw that the box was moving and decided to investigate.

“Rabbit, what are you doing in here?” asked a surprised Coyote.

Rabbit thought quickly and replied with a sigh. “I am here waiting for my family. They are making me a great feast—with a special hot chocolate for dessert. I don’t know how to tell them that I already ate. I can’t possibly eat even a single bite, but they’ve worked the hardest they ever have to prepare it for me. If only there was someone to take my place.”

Coyote, who was always hungry, gladly volunteered. He jumped inside the box. Rabbit made sure the lid was on tight before fleeing into the fields.

This has been the worst morning ever! My stepsisters have been meaner than a mule today! I woke when the rooster crowed and lit a fire in the downstairs hearth, as usual. Soot and ashes from the fire covered me, as usual.

Next, I ran to add kindling to the fires in their rooms. I would not have heard the end of it if my stepsisters’ large, ugly feet touched a cold floor. There was no kindling in either room, so I had to run to the backyard to gather up twigs and sticks. Thorns cut my fingers and briars stuck in my hair.

My older stepsister demanded soft-boiled eggs. My younger stepsister yelled for medium-boiled eggs. I flew to the kitchen to make their breakfasts. I toil around the clock.

While picking strawberries, I forgot that they give me a rash. I was soon covered with the biggest red blotches. Still, I served the porridge. “Too hot!” cried the older stepsister. “Too cold!” shrieked the younger one. Neither wanted strawberries, so, naturally, they threw away their bowls. The strawberries landed on me. Now my blotches had blotches.

Meanwhile, dear diary, my stepmother keeps screaming for me. She is louder than thunder! This is going to be the hardest day of my life!