The cloak outside, was the commonest looking bundle imaginable—Dolor touched it; it grew smaller, and he put it into his trouser's pocket and kept it there until he had a chance to look at it.

It seemed but a mere piece of cloth, dark green in color, being worn and shabby, though not dirty.

Prince Dolor examined it curiously; spread it out on the floor, then arranged it on his shoulders. It felt comfortable; but was the only shabby thing the Prince had ever seen in his life.

"And what use will it be to me?" said he sadly, "and what in the world shall I do with it?"

He folded it carefully and put it away in a safe corner of his toy-cupboard. After a time he nearly forgot the cloak and his godmother. Sometimes though, he recalled her sweet pleasant face; but as she never came, she gradually slipped out of his memory, until something happened which made him remember her, and want her as he had never wanted anything before.

Prince Dolor fell ill. He caught a complaint common to the people of Nomansland, called the doldrums, which made him restless, cross and disagreeable. Even when a little better, he was too weak to enjoy anything, but lay all day alone.

"I wonder what my godmother meant when she looked at my legs and sighed so bitterly? Why can't I walk like my nurse. It would be very nice to move about quickly or fly like a bird. How nice it must be to be a bird. If legs are no good, why can one not have wings? I am so tired and no one cares for me, except perhaps my godmother. Godmother, dear, have you forsaken me?"He stretched himself wearily, gathered himself up, and dropped his head upon his hands; as he did so, he felt somebody kiss him on the back of his neck, and turning, found that he was resting on the warm shoulder of the little old woman.

How glad he was to see her. He put both his arms around her neck and kissed her lovingly.

"Stop, stop!" cried she, pretending to be smothered. "Only just let me have breath to speak one word. Tell me what has happened to you since I saw you."

"Nothing has happened," answered the Prince somewhat dolefully.

"And are you very unhappy, my boy?"

"So unhappy, that I was just thinking whether I could not jump down to the bottom of the tower."

"You must be content to stay where you are," said the little old woman, "for you are a prince, and must behave as such—where is your traveling-cloak?"

Prince Dolor blushed. "I—I put it away in the cupboard; I suppose it is there still."

"You have never used it; you dislike it?"

He hesitated, not wishing to be impolite. "Don't you think it's just a little old and shabby for a prince?"

The old woman laughed very sweetly.

"Why, if all the princes in the world craved for it, they couldn't get it, unless I gave it to them. Old and shabby! It's the most valuable thing imaginable! I thought I would give it to you, because—because you are different from other people."

"Am I?" asked the prince with tears in his eyes.

She touched his poor little legs. "These are not like the legs of other little boys."

"Indeed!—my nurse never told me that."

"I tell you, because I love you."

"Tell me what, dear godmother?"

"That you will never be able to walk, or run, or jump, but your life may be a very happy life for all that. Do not be afraid."

"I am not afraid," said the boy, and his lip began to quiver, though he did not cry.

Though he did not wholly understand, he began to guess what his godmother meant. He had never seen any real live boys, but he had seen pictures of them; running and jumping; which he had admired and tried hard to imitate, but always failed. Now, he began to understand that we cannot always have things as we want them, but as they are, and that we must learn to bear them and make the best of them.

She comforted him and whispered in her sweet, strong, cheerful voice—"Never mind!"

"No, I don't think I do mind, that is, I won't mind."

"That is right, My Prince! Let us put our shoulders to the wheel—"

"We are in Hopeless Tower and there is no wheel to put our shoulders to," said the child sadly.

"You little matter-of-fact goose! Well for you that you have a godmother called—'Stuff and Nonsense.'"

"Stuff and Nonsense! What a funny name!"

"Some people give it to me, but they are not my most intimate friends. You may give me any name you please; but I am your godmother. I have few godchildren; those I have love me dearly, and find me the greatest blessing in all the world."

"I can well believe it," cried the little lame Prince.

"Bring the cloak out of the rubbish cupboard, and shake the dust off it, quick!" said she to Prince Dolor. "Spread it out on the floor, and wait till the split closes and the edges turn up. Then open the skylight, set yourself on the cloak, and say, 'Abracadabra, dum dum dum,' and—see what will happen!"

The Prince burst into a fit of laughing. It all seemed so exceedingly silly, and his godmother laughed too."Believe me or not, it doesn't matter," said she. "Here is the cloak; when you want to go travelling on it, say, Abracadabra dum dum dum; when you want to come back again, say, Abracadabra tum tum ti. That's all, good-bye."

A puff of pleasant air and his godmother was gone.

"How rosy your Royal Highness's cheeks are! You seem to have grown better," said the nurse entering the room.

"I have," replied the Prince—he felt kindly, even to his grim nurse. "Let me have my dinner, and you go to your sewing."

The instant she was gone, Prince Dolor sprang from his sofa, and with one or two of his frog-like jumps, he reached the cupboard where he kept his toys, and looked everywhere for his traveling-cloak.

Alas! It was not there.

While he was ill, his nurse, had made a grand clearance of all his "rubbish," all the treasures of his baby days, which he could not bear to part with. Though he seldom played with them now, he liked just to feel they were there.

They were all gone! and with them the traveling cloak. He sat down on the floor, looking at the empty shelves, then burst out sobbing as if his heart would break.

"And it is all my own fault," he cried. "I ought to have taken better care of my godmother's gift. Oh, godmother, forgive me! I'll never be so careless again. I'll never be so careless again. I don't know what the cloak is exactly, but I am sure it is something precious. Help me to find it again. Oh, don't let it be stolen from me—don't please."

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed a silvery voice. "Why, that traveling-cloak is the one thing in the world which nobody can steal. It is of no use to anybody except the owner. Open your eyes, and see what you can see."His dear old godmother, he thought, and turned eagerly round. But no; he only beheld, lying in a corner of the room, his precious traveling-cloak.

Prince Dolor darted towards it, tumbling several times on the way. Snatching it to his breast, he hugged and kissed it. Then he began unrolling it, wondering each minute what would happen.

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