s and dishes was heard.

"It's my nurse, bringing my dinner; but I don't want dinner. I only want
you. Will her coming drive you away, godmother?"

"Only for a while, only wish for me and I will return."

When the door opened, Prince Dolor shut his eyes; opening them again,
nobody but his nurse was in the room, as his godmother had melted away.

"Such a heap of untidy books; and what's this rubbish?" said she,
kicking a little bundle that lay beside them.

"Give it to me," cried the Prince; and reaching after it, he hid it
under his pinafore.

It was, though she did not know this, his wonderful travelling-cloak.

CHAPTER IV.

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