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.