No doubt you think Prince Dolor was unhappy. If you had seen him as he sat patiently untying his wonderful cloak, which was done up in a very tight parcel, using his deft little hands, and knitting his brows with determination, while his eyes glistened with pleasure, you might have changed your opinion.

When Prince Dolor had carefully untied all the knots, the cloak began to undo itself. Slowly unfolding, it laid itself down on the carpet, as flat as if it had been ironed; the split joined with a little sharp crick-crack, and the rim turned up all round till it was breast-high; for the meantime the cloak had grown and grown, and become quite large enough for one person to sit in it, as comfortable as if in a boat.

The Prince watched it rather anxiously; it was such an extraordinary thing. However, he was no coward, but a thorough boy, who, if he had been like other boys, would doubtless have grown up daring and adventurous—a soldier—a sailor, or the like. As it was, he could only show his courage by being afraid of nothing, and by doing boldly all that was in his power. And I am not sure but that in this way he showed more real valor than if he had had six pairs of proper legs.

He said to himself, "What a goose I am! As if my dear godmother would ever have given me anything to hurt me. Here goes!"

So, with one of his active leaps, he sprang right into the middle of the cloak, where he squatted down, wrapping his arms tight round his knees, for they shook a little and his heart beat fast. But there he sat, waiting for what might happen next.

Nothing did happen, and he began to think nothing would when he recollected the words. "Abracadabra, dum, dum, dum!"

He repeated them, laughing all the while, they seemed such nonsense. And then—and then—

The cloak rose, slowly and steadily at first, only a few inches, then gradually higher and higher, till it nearly touched the skylight. Prince Dolor's head actually bumped against the glass.

Then he suddenly remembered his godmother's command—"Open the skylight!"

Without a moment's delay he began searching for the bolt, the cloak remaining balanced in the air. The minute the window was opened, out it sailed—right into the clear fresh air, with nothing between it and the cloudless blue. Prince Dolor had never felt such delicious sensation before.

The happiness of the Prince cannot be described, when he got out of Hopeless Tower, and found himself for the first time in the pure open air, with the sky above him and the earth below.

True, there was nothing but earth and sky; no houses, no trees, no rivers, mountains, seas—not a beast on the ground, or a bird in the air. But to him even the level plain looked beautiful; and then there was the glorious arch of the sky, with a little young moon sitting in the west like a baby queen. And the evening breeze was so sweet and fresh, it kissed him like his godmother's kisses; and by-and-by a few stars came out, first two or three, and then quantities—quantities! so that when he began to count them, he was utterly bewildered.

By this time, however, the breeze had become cold and as he had, as he said, no outdoor clothes, poor Prince Dolor began to shiver.

"Perhaps I had better go home," thought he.

But how—for in his excitement the other words which his godmother had told him to use had slipped his memory, and the cloak only went faster and faster, skimming on through the dusky, empty air.

The poor little Prince began to feel frightened. What if his wonderful traveling-cloak should keep on thus traveling, perhaps to the world's end, carrying with it a poor, tired, hungry boy.

"Dear godmother," he cried pitifully, "do help me! Tell me just this once and I'll never forget again."

Instantly the words came to him and he repeated them. "Abracadabra, tum, tum, ti!" The cloak began to turn slowly, and immediately started back, as fast as ever, in the direction of the tower.

The skylight he found exactly as he had left it, and he slipped in as easily as he had gotten out. He had scarcely reached the floor when he heard his nurse's voice outside.

"Bless us! what has become of your Royal Highness all this time? To sit stupidly here at the window until it is quite dark and leave the skylight open too. Prince, what can you be thinking of? You are the silliest boy I ever knew."

But he did not mind what she said.

The instant Prince Dolor got off the cloak it folded itself up into a tiny parcel and rolled itself into the farthest corner of the room. If the nurse had seen it she would have taken it for a mere bundle of rubbish. She brought in the supper and lit the candles, her face as unhappy as usual. But Prince Dolor only saw, hidden in the corner where nobody else would see it, his wonderful traveling-cloak. He ate heartily, scarcely hearing his nurse's grumbling.

"Poor woman!" he thought, "she hasn't a traveling-cloak!"

And when he crept into his little bed, where he lay awake a good while watching the stars, his chief thought was, "I must be up very early to-morrow morning and get my lessons done, and then I'll go traveling all over the world on my beautiful cloak."

So, next day, he opened his eyes with the sun, and went with a good heart to his lessons, which for the first time he found dull, and the instant they were over he crept across the floor, undid the shabby little bundle, climbed on a chair, and thence to the table so as to unbar the skylight; said his magic charm, and was away out of the window in a minute.

He was accustomed to sit so quietly always, that his nurse, though only in the next room did not miss him, and she could not have missed him anyway for the clever godmother made an image, which she set on the window-sill reading and which looked so like Prince Dolor that any common observer would never have guessed the difference.

And all this while the happy little fellow was away floating in the air on his magic cloak, and seeing all sorts of wonderful things—or they seemed wonderful to him, who had hitherto seen nothing at all.

First, there were the flowers that grew on the plain, which, whenever the cloak came near enough, he strained his eyes to look at; they were tiny, but very beautiful.

"I wonder," he thought, "whether I could see better through a pair of glasses like those my nurse reads with, and takes such care of. How I should take care of them too! if only I had a pair!"

Immediately he felt a pair of the prettiest gold spectacles ever seen; and looking downwards, he found that, though ever so high above the ground, he could see every blade of grass, every tiny bud and flower—nay, even the insects that walked over them.

"Thank you, thank you!" he cried to his dear godmother, whom he felt sure had sent them. He amused himself for ever so long, gazing down upon the grass, every square foot of which was a mine of wonders.Then, just to rest his eyes, he turned them up to the sky, at which he had looked so often and seen nothing.

Now he saw a long, black wavy line, moving on in the distance. Looking at it through his spectacles, he discovered that it was a long string of birds, flying one after the other, their wings moving steadily and their heads pointed in one direction, as steadily as if each were a little ship.

"They must be the passage-birds flying seaward!" cried the boy, who had read a little about them. "Oh! how I should like to see them quite close, and to know where they come from, and where they are going!"

The cloak gave a sudden bound forward, and he found himself high up in the air, in the very midst of the birds.

"Oh I wish I were going with you, you lovely creatures!" cried the boy. "I'm getting so tired of this dull plain, and the dreary and lonely tower. I do so want to see the world! Pretty swallows, dear swallows, tell me what it looks like—the beautiful, wonderful world!"

But the birds flew past and the boy looked after them with envy. Then he settled himself down in the centre of the cloak, feeling quite sad and lonely.

"I think I'll go home," said he, and repeated his "Abracadabra, tum tum, ti!" with a rather heavy heart. The more he had, the more he wanted.

He did not like to vex his godmother by calling for her, and telling her how unhappy he was, in spite of all her goodness; so he just kept his trouble to himself, went back to his lonely tower, and spent three days there without attempting another journey on his traveling-cloak.

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