{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_24053/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_24053","id":"gutenberg_24053","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/24053","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Novels","Children's Instructional Books","Children's Literature","Fairy tales","People with disabilities -- Juvenile fiction","Princes -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"Produced by Mark C. Orton, Jacqueline Jeremy, Ian Deane\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at\nhttp://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE LAME PRINCE.\n\n\n[Illustration: \"I SWEAR TO PERFORM MY DUTIES AS REGENT, AND TO TAKE\nCARE OF HIS MAJESTY.\" [PAGE 11.]]\n\n\n    THE\n    PLEASANT HOUR SERIES\n\n\n    THE\n    LITTLE LAME PRINCE\n\n    _By_ DINAH MARIA MULOCK\n\n\n    REWRITTEN FOR YOUNG READERS BY\n    MARGARET WATERS\n\n    ILLUSTRATED BY\n    HUGO VON HOFSTEN\n\n\n    NEW YORK\n    BARSE & HOPKINS\n    PUBLISHERS\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n                                                                    Page\n    I SWEAR TO PERFORM MY DUTIES AS REGENT, AND TO TAKE\n    CARE OF HIS MAJESTY                                     Frontispiece\n\n    \"I MUST KISS HIM, I AM HIS GOD MOTHER\"                            8\n\n    AND TWISTING HIMSELF AROUND, WHAT DO YOU THINK HE SAW?           16\n\n    PRINCE DOLOR MADE A SNATCH AT THE TOPMOST TWIG OF\n    THE TALLEST TREE                                                 24\n\n    THE PRINCE GAZED EARNESTLY DOWN INTO THE LARGEST\n    ROOM HE HAD EVER BEHELD                                          32\n\n    HE LIFTED UP HIS THIN, SLENDER HAND, AND THERE CAME\n    A SILENCE OVER THE VAST CROWD IMMEDIATELY                        40\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE LAME PRINCE\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n\nHe was the most beautiful prince that ever was born.\n\nBeing a prince, people said this; and it was true. When he looked at the\ncandle, his eyes had an earnest expression quite startling in a new-born\nbaby. His nose was aquiline; his complexion was healthy; he was round,\nfat, and straight-limbed--a splendid baby.\n\nHis father and mother, King and Queen of Nomansland, and their subjects\nwere proud and happy, having waited ten years for an heir. The only\nperson not quite happy was the king's brother, who would have been king\nhad the baby not been born, but his Majesty was very kind to him, and\ngave him a Dukedom as large as a country.\n\nThe Prince's christening was to be a grand affair; there were chosen for\nhim four and twenty godfathers and godmothers, who each had to give him\na name, and promise to do their utmost for him. When he came of age, he\nhimself had to choose the name--and the godfather or godmother--that he\nliked best.\n\nAll was rejoicing and the rich gave dinners and feasts for the poor.\n\nThe only quiet place in the Palace was the room, which though the prince\nwas six weeks old, his mother, the Queen, had not quitted. Nobody\nthought she was ill as she said nothing about it herself, but lay pale\nand placid, giving no trouble to anybody.\n\nChristening day came at last and it was as lovely as the Prince himself.\nAll the people in the Palace were beautifully dressed in the clothes\nwhich the Queen had given them.\n\nBy six in the morning all the royal household had dressed itself in its\nvery best; and then the little Prince was dressed in his magnificent\nchristening robe; which he did not like at all, but kicked and screamed\nlike any common baby. When he had calmed down, they carried him to the\nbed where the Queen lay.\n\nShe kissed and blessed him, and then she gave him up with a gentle\nsmile, saying she \"hoped he would be very good, that it would be a very\nnice christening, and all the guests would enjoy themselves,\" and turned\npeacefully over on her bed. She was a very uncomplaining person--the\nQueen, and her name was Dolorez.\n\nEverything went on as if she had been present. All, even the King\nhimself, had grown used to her absence, for she was not strong, and for\nyears had not joined in the gaieties. The noble company arrived from\nmany countries; also the four-and-twenty godfathers and godmothers, who\nhad been chosen with care, as the people who would be most useful to his\nRoyal Highness should he ever want friends.\n\nThey came, walking two and two, with their coronets on their\nheads--dukes and duchesses, princes and princesses; they all kissed the\nchild and pronounced the name which each had given him. Then the\nfour-and-twenty names were shouted out, one after another, and written\ndown, to be kept in the state records.\n\nEverybody was satisfied except the little Prince, who moaned faintly\nunder his christening robes, which nearly smothered him.\n\nThough very few knew it, the Prince in coming to the chapel had met with\nan accident. A young lady of rank, whose duty it was to carry him to and\nfrom the chapel, had been so busy arranging her train with one hand,\nthat she stumbled and let him fall. She picked him up--the accident was\nso slight it seemed hardly worth speaking of. The baby had turned pale,\nbut did not cry. No one knew that anything was wrong. Even if he had\nmoaned, the silver trumpets were loud enough to drown his voice. It\nwould have been a pity to let anything trouble such a day.\n\nSuch a procession! Heralds in blue and silver; pages in crimson and\ngold; and a troop of little girls in dazzling white, carrying baskets of\nflowers, which they strewed all the way before the child and the\nnurse,--finally the four and twenty godfathers and godmothers, splendid\nto look at.\n\nThe prince was a mere heap of lace and muslin, and had it not been for a\ncanopy of white satin and ostrich feathers, which was held over him\nwhenever he was carried, his presence would have been unnoticed.\n\n\"It is just like fairyland,\" said one little flower-girl to another,\n\"and I think the only thing the Prince wants now is a fairy godmother.\"\n\n\"Does he?\" said a shrill, but soft and not unpleasant voice, and a\nperson no larger than a child was seen.\n\nShe was a pleasant little, old, grey-haired, grey-eyed woman, dressed\nall in grey.\n\n\"Take care and don't let the baby fall again.\"\n\nThe grand nurse started, flushing angrily.\n\n\"Old woman, you will be kind enough not to say, 'the baby,' but 'the\nPrince.' Keep away; his Royal Highness is just going to sleep.\"\n\n\"I must kiss him, I am his godmother.\"\n\n\"You!\" cried the elegant lady-nurse.\n\n\"You!!\" cried all the Court and the heralds began to blow the silver\ntrumpets, to stop the conversation.\n\nAs the procession formed to return, the old woman stood on the topmost\nstep, and stretched herself on tiptoe by the help of her stick, and gave\nthe little Prince three kisses.\n\n\"Take yourself out of the way,\" cried the nurse, \"or the king shall be\ninformed immediately.\"\n\n\"The King knows nothing of me,\" replied the old woman, with an\nindifferent air. \"My friend in the palace is the King's wife. I know her\nMajesty well, and I love her and her child. And since you dropped him on\nthe marble stairs I choose to take him for my own. I am his godmother,\nready to help him whenever he wants me.\"\n\n\"You help him!\" cried the group laughing. The little old woman paid no\nattention and her soft grey eyes were fixed on the Prince, who smiled\nback at her.\n\n\"His Majesty shall hear of this,\" said a gentleman-in-waiting.\n\n\"His Majesty will hear quite enough news in a minute or two,\" said the\nold woman sadly, kissing the little Prince on the forehead. \"Be Prince\nDolor, in memory of your mother Dolorez.\" Everybody started.\n\n\"Old woman, you are exceedingly ill-bred,\" cried a lady-in-waiting.\n\"Even if you did know, how dared you presume to hint that her most\ngracious Majesty is called Dolorez?\"\n\n\"Was called Dolorez,\" said the old woman with a tender solemnity.\n\nThe first gentleman, called the Gold-stick-in-waiting, raised the stick\nto strike her, and all the rest stretched out their hands to seize her;\nbut the gray mantle melted from between their fingers; and there came a\nheavy, muffled sound.\n\nThe great bell of the palace--the bell which was only heard on the\ndeath of some of the Royal family, and for as many times as he or\nshe was years old--began to toll. They listened. Some one counted:\n\"one-two-three-four\"--up to nine and twenty--just the Queen's age.\n\nThe Queen, her Majesty, was dead. In the midst of the festivities she\nhad passed away. When the little prince was carried back to his mother's\nroom, there was no mother to kiss him.\n\nAs for his godmother--the little old woman in grey, nobody knew what\nbecame of her.\n\n[Illustration: \"I MUST KISS HIM, I AM HIS GODMOTHER.\" [PAGE 7.]]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n\nIt could not be said that the Prince missed his mother; children of his\nage cannot do that; but somehow, after she died everything seemed to go\nwrong with him. From a beautiful baby he became pale and sickly, seeming\nto have almost ceased growing, especially in his legs, which had been so\nfat and strong. But after the day of his christening they withered, and\nwhen he was nearly a year old, and his nurse tried to make him stand, he\nonly tumbled down.\n\nThis happened so many times that at last people began to talk about it.\nA prince, and not able to stand on his legs! What a misfortune to the\ncountry!\n\nAfter a time he became stronger and his body grew, but his limbs\nremained shrunken. No one talked of this to the King, for he was very\nsad.\n\nThe King desired that the Prince should keep the name given him by the\nlittle old woman in grey and so he was known as Dolor.\n\nOnce a week, according to established state custom, the Prince, dressed\nin his very best, was brought to the King, his father, for half an hour,\nbut his Majesty was too melancholy to pay much attention to the child.\n\nOnly once, when the King and his brother were sitting together, with\nPrince Dolor playing in a corner of the room, dragging himself about\nwith his arms, rather than his legs, it seemed to strike the father that\nall was not right with his son.\n\n\"How old is his Royal Highness?\" said he, suddenly, to the nurse.\n\n\"Two years, three months, and five days, please your Majesty.\"\n\n\"It does not please me,\" said the King with a sigh. \"He ought to be far\nmore forward than he is. Is there not something wrong about him?\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" said the King's brother, exchanging meaning looks with the\nnurse. \"Nothing to make your Majesty at all uneasy. No doubt his Royal\nHighness will outgrow it in time.\"\n\n\"Out-grow what?\"\n\n\"A slight delicacy--ahem!--in the spine--something inherited, perhaps,\nfrom his dear mother.\"\n\n\"Ah, she was always delicate; but she was the sweetest woman that ever\nlived. Come here, my little son.\"\n\nThe Prince turned to his father a small, sweet, grave face--like his\nmother's, and the King smiled and held out his arms. But when the boy\ncame to him, not running like a boy, but wriggling awkwardly along the\nfloor, the royal countenance clouded.\n\n\"I ought to have been told of this. Send for all the doctors in my\nkingdom immediately.\"\n\nThey came, and agreed in what had been pretty well known before; that\nthe prince must have been hurt when he was an infant. Did anybody\nremember?\n\nNo, nobody. Indignantly, all the nurses denied that any such accident\nhad happened.\n\nBut of all this the King knew nothing, for, indeed, after the first\nshock of finding out that his son could not walk, and seemed never\nlikely to walk, he interfered very little concerning him. He could not\nwalk; his limbs were mere useless additions to his body, but the body\nitself was strong and sound, and his face was the same as ever--just\nlike his mother's face, one of the sweetest in the world!\n\nEven the King, indifferent as he was, sometimes looked at the little\nfellow with sad tenderness, noticing how cleverly he learned to crawl,\nand swing himself about by his arms, so that in his own awkward way he\nwas as active as most children of his age.\n\n\"Poor little man! he does his best, and he is not unhappy,\" said the\nKing to his brother. \"I have appointed you as Regent. In case of my\ndeath, you will take care of my poor little boy?\"\n\nSoon after he said this, the King died, as suddenly and quietly as the\nQueen had done, and Prince Dolor was left without either father or\nmother--as sad a thing as could happen, even to a Prince.\n\nHe was more than that now, though. He was a king. In Nomansland as in\nother countries, the people were struck with grief one day and revived\nthe next. \"The king is dead--long live the king!\" was the cry that rang\nthrough the nation, and almost before his late Majesty had been laid\nbeside the queen, crowds came thronging from all parts to the royal\npalace, eager to see the new monarch.\n\nThey did see him--sitting on the floor of the council-chamber, sucking\nhis thumb! And when one of the gentlemen-in-waiting lifted him up and\ncarried him to the chair of state, and put the crown on his head, he\nshook it off again, it was so heavy and uncomfortable. Sliding down to\nthe foot of the throne, he began playing with the gold lions that\nsupported it;--laughing as if he had at last found something to amuse\nhim.\n\n\"It is very unfortunate,\" said one of the lords. \"It is always bad for a\nnation when its king is a child; but such a child--a permanent cripple,\nif not worse.\"\n\n\"Let us hope not worse,\" said another lord in a very hopeless tone, and\nlooking towards the Regent, who stood erect and pretended to hear\nnothing. \"I have heard that these kind of children with very large heads\nand great broad foreheads and staring eyes, are--well, well, let us hope\nfor the best and be prepared for the worst. In the meantime--\"\n\n\"Come forth and kiss the hilt of his sword,\" said the Regent--\"I swear\nto perform my duties as Regent, to take care of his Majesty, and I shall\ndo my humble best to govern the country.\"\n\nWhenever the Regent and his sons appeared, they were received with\nshouts--\"Long live the Regent!\" \"Long live the Royal family!\"\n\nAs for the other child, his Royal Highness Prince Dolor--somehow people\nsoon ceased to call him his Majesty, which seemed such a ridiculous\ntitle for a poor little fellow, a helpless cripple, with only head and\ntrunk, and no legs to speak of--he was seen very seldom by anybody.\n\nSometimes people daring to peer over the high wall of the palace garden\nnoticed there a pretty little crippled boy with large dreamy, thoughtful\neyes, beneath the grave glance of which wrongdoers felt uneasy, and,\nalthough they did not know it then, the sight of him bearing his\naffliction made them better.\n\nIf anybody had said that Prince Dolor's uncle was cruel, he would have\nsaid that what he did was for the good of the country.\n\nTherefore he went one day to the council-chamber, informed the ministers\nand the country that the young King was in failing health, and that it\nwould be best to send him for a time to the Beautiful Mountains where\nhis mother was born.\n\nSoon after he obtained an order to send the King away--which was done in\ngreat state. The nation learned, without much surprise, that the poor\nlittle Prince--had fallen ill on the road and died within a few hours;\nso declared the physician in attendance, and the nurse who had been sent\nto take care of him. They brought the coffin back in great state, and\nburied him with his parents.\n\nThe country went into deep mourning for him, and then forgot him, and\nhis uncle reigned in his stead.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n\nAnd what of the little lame prince, whom everybody seemed so easily to\nhave forgotten?\n\nNot everybody. There were a few kind souls, mothers of families, who had\nheard his sad story, and some servants about the palace, who had been\nfamiliar with his sweet ways--these many a time sighed and said, \"Poor\nPrince Dolor!\" Or, looking at the Beautiful Mountains, which were\nvisible all over Nomansland, though few people ever visited them, \"Well,\nperhaps his Royal Highness is better where he is.\"\n\nThey did not know that beyond the mountains, between them and the sea,\nlay a tract of country, level, barren, except for a short stunted grass,\nand here and there a patch of tiny flowers. Not a bush--not a tree--not\na resting place for bird or beast in that dreary plain. It was not a\npleasant place to live.\n\nThe only sign that human creatures had ever been near the spot was a\nlarge round tower which rose up in the centre of the plain. In form it\nresembled the Irish round towers, which have puzzled people for so long,\nnobody being able to find out when, or by whom they were made. It was\ncircular, of very firm brickwork, with neither doors nor windows, until\nnear the top, when you could perceive some slits in the wall, through\nwhich one could not possibly creep in or look out. Its height was nearly\na hundred feet.\n\nThe plain was desolate, like a desert, only without sand, and led to\nnowhere except the still more desolate sea-coast; nobody ever crossed\nit. Whatever mystery there was about the tower, it and the sky and the\nplain kept to themselves.\n\nIt was a very great secret indeed, a state secret, which none but so\nclever a man as the present king of Nomansland would ever have thought\nof. How he carried it out, undiscovered, I cannot tell. People said,\nlong afterwards, that it was by means of a gang of condemned criminals,\nwho were set to work, and executed immediately after they had done, so\nthat nobody knew anything, or in the least suspected the real fact.\n\nWithin twenty feet of the top, some ingenious architect had planned a\nperfect little house, divided into four rooms. By making skylights, and\na few slits in the walls for windows, and raising a peaked roof which\nwas hidden by the parapet, here was a dwelling complete; eighty feet\nfrom the ground and hard to reach.\n\nInside it was furnished with all the comfort and elegance imaginable;\nwith lots of books and toys, and everything that the heart of a child\ncould desire.\n\nOne winter night, when all the plain was white with moonlight, there was\nseen crossing it, a great tall, black horse, ridden by a man also big\nand equally black, carrying before him on the saddle a woman and a\nchild. The sad fierce-looking woman was a criminal under sentence of\ndeath, but her sentence had been changed. She was to inhabit the lonely\ntower with the child; she was to live as long as the child lived--no\nlonger. This, in order that she might take the utmost care of him; for\nthose who put him there were equally afraid of his dying and of his\nliving. And yet he was only a little gentle boy, with a sweet smile. He\nwas very tired with his long journey and was clinging to the man's neck,\nfor he was rather frightened.\n\nThe tired little boy was Prince Dolor. He was not dead at all. His grand\nfuneral had been a pretence; a wax figure having been put in his place,\nwhile he was spirited away by the condemned woman and the black man. The\nlatter was deaf and dumb, so could tell nothing.\n\nWhen they reached the foot of the tower, there was light enough to see\na huge chain dangling half way from the parapet. The deaf mute took from\nhis saddle-wallet a sort of ladder, arranged in pieces like a puzzle,\nfitted it together, and lifted it up to meet the chain. Then he mounted\nto the top of the tower, and slung from it a chair, in which the woman\nand child placed themselves and were drawn up, never to come down again.\nThe man descended the ladder, took it to pieces and disappeared across\nthe plain. Every month he came and fastened his horse to the foot of the\ntower and climbed it as before, laden with provisions and many other\nthings. He always saw the Prince, so as to make sure that the child was\nalive and well, and then went away until the following month.\n\nPrince Dolor had every luxury that even a Prince could need, and the one\nthing wanting--love, never having known, he did not miss. His nurse was\nvery kind to him, though she was a wicked woman. Perhaps it made her\nbetter to be shut up with an innocent child.\n\nBy-and-by he began to learn lessons--not that his nurse had been ordered\nto teach him, but she did it partly to amuse herself. She was not a\nstupid woman, and Prince Dolor was by no means a stupid child; so they\ngot on very well.\n\nWhen he grew older he began reading the books which the mute brought to\nhim. As they told him of the things in the outside world he longed to\nsee them.\n\nFrom this time a change came over the boy. He began to look sad and\nthin, and to shut himself up for hours without speaking. His nurse had\nbeen forbidden, on pain of death, to tell him anything about himself. He\nknew he was Prince Dolor, because she always addressed him as \"My\nprince\" and \"your Royal Highness,\" but what a prince was, he had not the\nleast idea.\n\nHe had been reading one day, but feeling all the while that to read\nabout things which you never can see is like hearing about a beautiful\ndinner while you are starving. He grew melancholy, gazing out of the\nwindow-slit.\n\nNot a very cheerful view--just the plain and the sky--but he liked it.\nHe used to think, if he could only fly out of that window, up to the sky\nor down to the plain, how nice it would be! Perhaps when he died--his\nnurse had told him once in anger that he would never leave the tower\ntill he died--he might be able to do this.\n\n\"And I wish I had somebody to tell me all about it; about that and many\nother things; somebody that would be fond of me, like my poor white\nkitten.\"\n\nHere the tears came into his eyes, for the boy's one friend had been a\nlittle white kitten, which the deaf mute, kindly smiling, once took out\nof his pocket and gave him. For four weeks it was his constant companion\nand plaything, till one moonlight night it took a fancy for wandering,\nclimbed on to the parapet of the tower, dropped over and disappeared. It\nwas not killed, he hoped; indeed, he almost fancied he saw it pick\nitself up and scamper away, but he never caught sight of it again.\n\n\"Yes, I wish I had a person, a real live person, who would be fond of me\nand kind to me. Oh, I want somebody--dreadfully, dreadfully!\"\n\nAs he spoke, there sounded behind him a slight tap-tap-tap, as of a\ncane, and twisting himself around, what do you think he saw? A curious\nlittle woman, no bigger than he might himself have been, had his legs\ngrown, but she was not a child--she was an old woman with a sweet smile\nand a soft voice, and was carrying a cane.\n\n\"My own little boy,\" she said, \"I could not come to you until you had\nsaid you wanted me, but now you do want me, here I am.\"\n\n\"And you are very welcome, madam,\" replied the Prince. \"May I ask you\nwho you are? Perhaps my mother?\"\n\n[Illustration: AND TWISTING HIMSELF AROUND, WHAT DO YOU THINK HE SAW?\n[PAGE 16.]]\n\n\"No, I am not your mother, though she was a dear friend of mine.\"\n\n\"Will you tell her to come and see me then?\"\n\n\"She cannot; but I daresay she knows all about you and loves you. I love\nyou, too, and I want to help you, my poor little boy.\"\n\n\"Why do you call me poor?\" asked Prince Dolor in surprise.\n\nThe little old woman sighed and glanced down at his legs and feet, which\nhe did not know were different from those of other children, and then to\nhis sweet, bright face.\n\n\"I beg your pardon, My Prince,\" said she.\n\n\"Yes, I am a prince, and my name is Dolor; will you tell me yours,\nmadam?\"\n\nThe little old woman laughed like a chime of silver bells.\n\n\"I have so many that I don't know which to choose. It was I who gave you\nyours, and you will belong to me all your days. I am your godmother.\"\n\n\"Hurrah!\" cried the little prince; \"I am glad I belong to you, for I\nlike you very much.\"\n\nSo they sat down and played and talked together.\n\n\"Are you very lonesome here?\" asked the little old woman.\n\n\"Not particularly, thank you, godmother. I have my lessons to do, and my\nbooks to read.\"\n\n\"And you want for nothing?\"\n\n\"Nothing. Yes, godmother, please bring me a little boy to play with?\"\n\n\"Just the thing, alas, which I cannot give you.\"\n\nHis godmother took him in her arms and kissed him. By-and-by he kissed\nher at first awkwardly and shyly, then with all the strength of his warm\nlittle heart.\n\n\"Promise me that you will never go away, godmother.\"\n\n\"I must, but I will leave you a travelling cloak that will take you\nwherever you want to go, and show you all that you wish to see.\"\n\n\"I don't need a cloak, for I never go out.\"\n\n\"Hush! the nurse is coming.\"\n\nA grumpy voice and a rattle of plates and dishes was heard.\n\n\"It's my nurse, bringing my dinner; but I don't want dinner. I only want\nyou. Will her coming drive you away, godmother?\"\n\n\"Only for a while, only wish for me and I will return.\"\n\nWhen the door opened, Prince Dolor shut his eyes; opening them again,\nnobody but his nurse was in the room, as his godmother had melted away.\n\n\"Such a heap of untidy books; and what's this rubbish?\" said she,\nkicking a little bundle that lay beside them.\n\n\"Give it to me,\" cried the Prince; and reaching after it, he hid it\nunder his pinafore.\n\nIt was, though she did not know this, his wonderful travelling-cloak.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n\nThe cloak outside, was the commonest looking bundle imaginable--Dolor\ntouched it; it grew smaller, and he put it into his trouser's pocket and\nkept it there until he had a chance to look at it.\n\nIt seemed but a mere piece of cloth, dark green in color, being worn and\nshabby, though not dirty.\n\nPrince Dolor examined it curiously; spread it out on the floor, then\narranged it on his shoulders. It felt comfortable; but was the only\nshabby thing the Prince had ever seen in his life.\n\n\"And what use will it be to me?\" said he sadly, \"and what in the world\nshall I do with it?\"\n\nHe folded it carefully and put it away in a safe corner of his\ntoy-cupboard. After a time he nearly forgot the cloak and his godmother.\nSometimes though, he recalled her sweet pleasant face; but as she never\ncame, she gradually slipped out of his memory, until something happened\nwhich made him remember her, and want her as he had never wanted\nanything before.\n\nPrince Dolor fell ill. He caught a complaint common to the people of\nNomansland, called the doldrums, which made him restless, cross and\ndisagreeable. Even when a little better, he was too weak to enjoy\nanything, but lay all day alone.\n\n\"I wonder what my godmother meant when she looked at my legs and sighed\nso bitterly? Why can't I walk like my nurse. It would be very nice to\nmove about quickly or fly like a bird. How nice it must be to be a bird.\nIf legs are no good, why can one not have wings? I am so tired and no\none cares for me, except perhaps my godmother. Godmother, dear, have you\nforsaken me?\"\n\nHe stretched himself wearily, gathered himself up, and dropped his head\nupon his hands; as he did so, he felt somebody kiss him on the back of\nhis neck, and turning, found that he was resting on the warm shoulder of\nthe little old woman.\n\nHow glad he was to see her. He put both his arms around her neck and\nkissed her lovingly.\n\n\"Stop, stop!\" cried she, pretending to be smothered. \"Only just let me\nhave breath to speak one word. Tell me what has happened to you since I\nsaw you.\"\n\n\"Nothing has happened,\" answered the Prince somewhat dolefully.\n\n\"And are you very unhappy, my boy?\"\n\n\"So unhappy, that I was just thinking whether I could not jump down to\nthe bottom of the tower.\"\n\n\"You must be content to stay where you are,\" said the little old woman,\n\"for you are a prince, and must behave as such--where is your\ntraveling-cloak?\"\n\nPrince Dolor blushed. \"I--I put it away in the cupboard; I suppose it is\nthere still.\"\n\n\"You have never used it; you dislike it?\"\n\nHe hesitated, not wishing to be impolite. \"Don't you think it's just a\nlittle old and shabby for a prince?\"\n\nThe old woman laughed very sweetly.\n\n\"Why, if all the princes in the world craved for it, they couldn't get\nit, unless I gave it to them. Old and shabby! It's the most valuable\nthing imaginable! I thought I would give it to you, because--because you\nare different from other people.\"\n\n\"Am I?\" asked the prince with tears in his eyes.\n\nShe touched his poor little legs. \"These are not like the legs of other\nlittle boys.\"\n\n\"Indeed!--my nurse never told me that.\"\n\n\"I tell you, because I love you.\"\n\n\"Tell me what, dear godmother?\"\n\n\"That you will never be able to walk, or run, or jump, but your life\nmay be a very happy life for all that. Do not be afraid.\"\n\n\"I am not afraid,\" said the boy, and his lip began to quiver, though he\ndid not cry.\n\nThough he did not wholly understand, he began to guess what his\ngodmother meant. He had never seen any real live boys, but he had seen\npictures of them; running and jumping; which he had admired and tried\nhard to imitate, but always failed. Now, he began to understand that we\ncannot always have things as we want them, but as they are, and that we\nmust learn to bear them and make the best of them.\n\nShe comforted him and whispered in her sweet, strong, cheerful\nvoice--\"Never mind!\"\n\n\"No, I don't think I do mind, that is, I won't mind.\"\n\n\"That is right, My Prince! Let us put our shoulders to the wheel--\"\n\n\"We are in Hopeless Tower and there is no wheel to put our shoulders\nto,\" said the child sadly.\n\n\"You little matter-of-fact goose! Well for you that you have a godmother\ncalled--'Stuff and Nonsense.'\"\n\n\"Stuff and Nonsense! What a funny name!\"\n\n\"Some people give it to me, but they are not my most intimate friends.\nYou may give me any name you please; but I am your godmother. I have few\ngodchildren; those I have love me dearly, and find me the greatest\nblessing in all the world.\"\n\n\"I can well believe it,\" cried the little lame Prince.\n\n\"Bring the cloak out of the rubbish cupboard, and shake the dust off it,\nquick!\" said she to Prince Dolor. \"Spread it out on the floor, and wait\ntill the split closes and the edges turn up. Then open the skylight, set\nyourself on the cloak, and say, 'Abracadabra, dum dum dum,' and--see\nwhat will happen!\"\n\nThe Prince burst into a fit of laughing. It all seemed so exceedingly\nsilly, and his godmother laughed too.\n\n\"Believe me or not, it doesn't matter,\" said she. \"Here is the cloak;\nwhen you want to go travelling on it, say, Abracadabra dum dum dum; when\nyou want to come back again, say, Abracadabra tum tum ti. That's all,\ngood-bye.\"\n\nA puff of pleasant air and his godmother was gone.\n\n\"How rosy your Royal Highness's cheeks are! You seem to have grown\nbetter,\" said the nurse entering the room.\n\n\"I have,\" replied the Prince--he felt kindly, even to his grim nurse.\n\"Let me have my dinner, and you go to your sewing.\"\n\nThe instant she was gone, Prince Dolor sprang from his sofa, and with\none or two of his frog-like jumps, he reached the cupboard where he kept\nhis toys, and looked everywhere for his traveling-cloak.\n\nAlas! It was not there.\n\nWhile he was ill, his nurse, had made a grand clearance of all his\n\"rubbish,\" all the treasures of his baby days, which he could not bear\nto part with. Though he seldom played with them now, he liked just to\nfeel they were there.\n\nThey were all gone! and with them the traveling cloak. He sat down on\nthe floor, looking at the empty shelves, then burst out sobbing as if\nhis heart would break.\n\n\"And it is all my own fault,\" he cried. \"I ought to have taken better\ncare of my godmother's gift. Oh, godmother, forgive me! I'll never be so\ncareless again. I'll never be so careless again. I don't know what the\ncloak is exactly, but I am sure it is something precious. Help me to\nfind it again. Oh, don't let it be stolen from me--don't please.\"\n\n\"Ha, ha, ha!\" laughed a silvery voice. \"Why, that traveling-cloak is the\none thing in the world which nobody can steal. It is of no use to\nanybody except the owner. Open your eyes, and see what you can see.\"\n\nHis dear old godmother, he thought, and turned eagerly round. But no;\nhe only beheld, lying in a corner of the room, his precious\ntraveling-cloak.\n\nPrince Dolor darted towards it, tumbling several times on the way.\nSnatching it to his breast, he hugged and kissed it. Then he began\nunrolling it, wondering each minute what would happen.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n\nNo doubt you think Prince Dolor was unhappy. If you had seen him as he\nsat patiently untying his wonderful cloak, which was done up in a very\ntight parcel, using his deft little hands, and knitting his brows with\ndetermination, while his eyes glistened with pleasure, you might have\nchanged your opinion.\n\nWhen Prince Dolor had carefully untied all the knots, the cloak began\nto undo itself. Slowly unfolding, it laid itself down on the carpet,\nas flat as if it had been ironed; the split joined with a little sharp\ncrick-crack, and the rim turned up all round till it was breast-high;\nfor the meantime the cloak had grown and grown, and become quite large\nenough for one person to sit in it, as comfortable as if in a boat.\n\nThe Prince watched it rather anxiously; it was such an extraordinary\nthing. However, he was no coward, but a thorough boy, who, if he had\nbeen like other boys, would doubtless have grown up daring and\nadventurous--a soldier--a sailor, or the like. As it was, he could\nonly show his courage by being afraid of nothing, and by doing boldly\nall that was in his power. And I am not sure but that in this way he\nshowed more real valor than if he had had six pairs of proper legs.\n\nHe said to himself, \"What a goose I am! As if my dear godmother would\never have given me anything to hurt me. Here goes!\"\n\nSo, with one of his active leaps, he sprang right into the middle of the\ncloak, where he squatted down, wrapping his arms tight round his knees,\nfor they shook a little and his heart beat fast. But there he sat,\nwaiting for what might happen next.\n\n[Illustration: PRINCE DOLOR MADE A SNATCH AT THE TOPMOST TWIG OF THE\nTALLEST TREE. [PAGE 32.]]\n\nNothing did happen, and he began to think nothing would when he\nrecollected the words. \"Abracadabra, dum, dum, dum!\"\n\nHe repeated them, laughing all the while, they seemed such nonsense.\nAnd then--and then--\n\nThe cloak rose, slowly and steadily at first, only a few inches, then\ngradually higher and higher, till it nearly touched the skylight. Prince\nDolor's head actually bumped against the glass.\n\nThen he suddenly remembered his godmother's command--\"Open the\nskylight!\"\n\nWithout a moment's delay he began searching for the bolt, the cloak\nremaining balanced in the air. The minute the window was opened, out it\nsailed--right into the clear fresh air, with nothing between it and the\ncloudless blue. Prince Dolor had never felt such delicious sensation\nbefore.\n\nThe happiness of the Prince cannot be described, when he got out of\nHopeless Tower, and found himself for the first time in the pure open\nair, with the sky above him and the earth below.\n\nTrue, there was nothing but earth and sky; no houses, no trees, no\nrivers, mountains, seas--not a beast on the ground, or a bird in the\nair. But to him even the level plain looked beautiful; and then there\nwas the glorious arch of the sky, with a little young moon sitting in\nthe west like a baby queen. And the evening breeze was so sweet and\nfresh, it kissed him like his godmother's kisses; and by-and-by a few\nstars came out, first two or three, and then quantities--quantities! so\nthat when he began to count them, he was utterly bewildered.\n\nBy this time, however, the breeze had become cold and as he had, as he\nsaid, no outdoor clothes, poor Prince Dolor began to shiver.\n\n\"Perhaps I had better go home,\" thought he.\n\nBut how--for in his excitement the other words which his godmother had\ntold him to use had slipped his memory, and the cloak only went faster\nand faster, skimming on through the dusky, empty air.\n\nThe poor little Prince began to feel frightened. What if his wonderful\ntraveling-cloak should keep on thus traveling, perhaps to the world's\nend, carrying with it a poor, tired, hungry boy.\n\n\"Dear godmother,\" he cried pitifully, \"do help me! Tell me just this\nonce and I'll never forget again.\"\n\nInstantly the words came to him and he repeated them. \"Abracadabra, tum,\ntum, ti!\" The cloak began to turn slowly, and immediately started back,\nas fast as ever, in the direction of the tower.\n\nThe skylight he found exactly as he had left it, and he slipped in as\neasily as he had gotten out. He had scarcely reached the floor when he\nheard his nurse's voice outside.\n\n\"Bless us! what has become of your Royal Highness all this time? To sit\nstupidly here at the window until it is quite dark and leave the\nskylight open too. Prince, what can you be thinking of? You are the\nsilliest boy I ever knew.\"\n\nBut he did not mind what she said.\n\nThe instant Prince Dolor got off the cloak it folded itself up into a\ntiny parcel and rolled itself into the farthest corner of the room. If\nthe nurse had seen it she would have taken it for a mere bundle of\nrubbish. She brought in the supper and lit the candles, her face as\nunhappy as usual. But Prince Dolor only saw, hidden in the corner where\nnobody else would see it, his wonderful traveling-cloak. He ate\nheartily, scarcely hearing his nurse's grumbling.\n\n\"Poor woman!\" he thought, \"_she_ hasn't a traveling-cloak!\"\n\nAnd when he crept into his little bed, where he lay awake a good while\nwatching the stars, his chief thought was, \"I must be up very early\nto-morrow morning and get my lessons done, and then I'll go traveling\nall over the world on my beautiful cloak.\"\n\nSo, next day, he opened his eyes with the sun, and went with a good\nheart to his lessons, which for the first time he found dull, and the\ninstant they were over he crept across the floor, undid the shabby\nlittle bundle, climbed on a chair, and thence to the table so as to\nunbar the skylight; said his magic charm, and was away out of the window\nin a minute.\n\nHe was accustomed to sit so quietly always, that his nurse, though only\nin the next room did not miss him, and she could not have missed him\nanyway for the clever godmother made an image, which she set on the\nwindow-sill reading and which looked so like Prince Dolor that any\ncommon observer would never have guessed the difference.\n\nAnd all this while the happy little fellow was away floating in the air\non his magic cloak, and seeing all sorts of wonderful things--or they\nseemed wonderful to him, who had hitherto seen nothing at all.\n\nFirst, there were the flowers that grew on the plain, which, whenever\nthe cloak came near enough, he strained his eyes to look at; they were\ntiny, but very beautiful.\n\n\"I wonder,\" he thought, \"whether I could see better through a pair of\nglasses like those my nurse reads with, and takes such care of. How I\nshould take care of them too! if only I had a pair!\"\n\nImmediately he felt a pair of the prettiest gold spectacles ever seen;\nand looking downwards, he found that, though ever so high above the\nground, he could see every blade of grass, every tiny bud and\nflower--nay, even the insects that walked over them.\n\n\"Thank you, thank you!\" he cried to his dear godmother, whom he felt\nsure had sent them. He amused himself for ever so long, gazing down upon\nthe grass, every square foot of which was a mine of wonders.\n\nThen, just to rest his eyes, he turned them up to the sky, at which he\nhad looked so often and seen nothing.\n\nNow he saw a long, black wavy line, moving on in the distance. Looking\nat it through his spectacles, he discovered that it was a long string of\nbirds, flying one after the other, their wings moving steadily and their\nheads pointed in one direction, as steadily as if each were a little\nship.\n\n\"They must be the passage-birds flying seaward!\" cried the boy, who had\nread a little about them. \"Oh! how I should like to see them quite\nclose, and to know where they come from, and where they are going!\"\n\nThe cloak gave a sudden bound forward, and he found himself high up in\nthe air, in the very midst of the birds.\n\n\"Oh I wish I were going with you, you lovely creatures!\" cried the boy.\n\"I'm getting so tired of this dull plain, and the dreary and lonely\ntower. I do so want to see the world! Pretty swallows, dear swallows,\ntell me what it looks like--the beautiful, wonderful world!\"\n\nBut the birds flew past and the boy looked after them with envy. Then he\nsettled himself down in the centre of the cloak, feeling quite sad and\nlonely.\n\n\"I think I'll go home,\" said he, and repeated his \"Abracadabra, tum tum,\nti!\" with a rather heavy heart. The more he had, the more he wanted.\n\nHe did not like to vex his godmother by calling for her, and telling her\nhow unhappy he was, in spite of all her goodness; so he just kept his\ntrouble to himself, went back to his lonely tower, and spent three days\nthere without attempting another journey on his traveling-cloak.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n\nThe fourth day it happened that the deaf mute paid his accustomed visit,\nafter which Prince Dolor's spirits rose. They always did, when he got\nthe new books, which the King of Nomansland regularly sent to his\nnephew. He paid no attention to the toys which were brought, as he\nconsidered himself a big boy.\n\nPrince Dolor leaned over and looked at the mute's horse which was\nfeeding at the foot of the tower and thought how grand it must be to get\nupon its back and ride away.\n\n\"Suppose I was a knight,\" he said to himself; \"then I should be obliged\nto ride out and see the world.\"\n\nBut he kept all these thoughts to himself, and just sat still, devouring\nhis new books until he had come to end of them all.\n\n\"I wonder,\" he would sometimes think,--\"I wonder what it feels like to\nbe on the back of a horse, galloping away, or holding the reins in a\ncarriage, and tearing across the country, or jumping a ditch, or running\na race, such as I read of or see in pictures. What a lot of things there\nare that I should like to do! But first, I should like to go and see the\nworld. I'll try.\"\n\nApparently it was his godmother's plan always to let him try, and try\nhard, before he gained anything. This day the knots that tied up his\ntraveling-cloak were more than usually troublesome, and it was a full\nhalf hour before he got out into the open air, and found himself\nfloating merrily over the top of the tower.\n\nHitherto, in all his journeys he had never let himself go out of sight\nof home, but now he felt sick of the very look of his tower with its\nround smooth walls.\n\n\"Off we go!\" cried he, when the cloak stirred itself with a slight slow\nmotion, as if waiting his orders. \"Anywhere--anywhere, so that I am away\nfrom here, and out into the world.\"\n\nAs he spoke, the cloak bounded forward and went skimming through the\nair, faster than the very fastest railway train.\n\n\"Gee-up, gee-up!\" cried Prince Dolor in great excitement. \"This is as\ngood as riding a horse,\" and tossed his head back to meet the fresh\nbreeze, and pulled his coat-collar up and his hat down, as he felt the\nwind grow keener and colder, colder than anything he had ever known.\n\n\"What does it matter, though?\" said he. \"I'm a boy, and boys ought not\nto mind anything.\"\n\nStill, by-and-by he began to shiver, and, as he had come away without\nhis dinner, grew frightfully hungry. The sunshine changed to rain, and\nhe got soaked through and through in a very few minutes.\n\n\"Shall I turn back?\" meditated he. \"Suppose I say, 'Abracadabra?'\"\n\nHere he stopped, for already the cloak gave a lurch as if it were\nexpecting to be sent home.\n\n\"No--I can't go back! I must go forward and see the world, but oh! if I\nhad but the shabbiest old rug to shelter me from the rain, or the driest\nmorsel of bread and cheese, just to keep me from starving! Still, I\ndon't much mind, I'm a prince and ought to be able to stand anything.\nHold on, cloak, we'll make the best of it.\"\n\nNo sooner had he said this than he felt stealing over his knees\nsomething warm and soft; in fact, a most beautiful bearskin, which\nfolded itself round him and cuddled him up as closely as if he had been\nthe cub of the kind old mother-bear that once owned it. Then feeling in\nhis pocket, which suddenly stuck out in a marvelous way, he found, not\nexactly bread and cheese, nor even sandwiches, but a packet of the most\ndelicious food he had ever tasted. He ate his dinner until he grew so\nthirsty he did not know what to do.\n\n\"Couldn't I have just one drop of water, if it wouldn't trouble you too\nmuch, kindest of godmothers?\"\n\nHe considered this a difficult request to grant for he was so far from\nthe ground that he could not expect to find a well. He forgot one\nthing--the rain. While he spoke, it came on in another wild burst, as if\nthe clouds had poured themselves out in a passion of crying, wetting him\ncertainly, but leaving behind in a large glass vessel which he had never\nnoticed before, enough water to quench the thirst of two or three boys\nat least. And it was so fresh, so pure--as water from the clouds always\nis, that he drank it with the greatest delight.\n\nAlso, as soon as it was empty, the rain filled it again, so that he was\nable to wash his face and hands. Then the sun came out and dried him in\nno time. After that he curled himself up under the bearskin rug and shut\nhis eyes just for one minute. The next minute he was sound asleep.\n\nWhen he awoke, he found himself floating over a country quite unlike\nanything he had ever seen before.\n\nYet it was nothing but what most of you children see every day and never\nnotice--a pretty country landscape. It had nothing in it grand or\nlovely--was simply pretty, nothing more; yet to Prince Dolor who had\nnever seen beyond the level plain, it appeared wonderful.\n\nFirst, there was a river, which came tumbling down the hillside.\n\n\"It is so active, so alive! I like things active and alive!\" cried he,\nand watched it shimmering and dancing, whirling and leaping.\n\nAll this the boy saw, either with his own naked eye, or through his gold\nspectacles. He saw also as in a picture, beautiful but silent, many\nother things which struck him with wonder, especially a grove of trees.\n\nOnly think, to have lived to his age and never have seen trees! As he\nfloated over these oaks, they seemed to him the most curious sight\nimaginable.\n\n\"If I could only get nearer, so as to touch them,\" said he, and\nimmediately the obedient cloak ducked down; Prince Dolor made a snatch\nat the topmost twig of the tallest tree, and caught a bunch of leaves in\nhis hand. Just a bunch of green leaves--such as we have seen many times,\nyet how wonderful they were to him, and he examined the leaves with the\ngreatest curiosity, and also a little caterpillar that he found walking\nover one of them. He coaxed it to take a walk over his finger. It amused\nhim for a long time; and when a sudden gust of wind blew it overboard,\nleaves and all, he felt quite disconsolate.\n\n\"Still there must be many live creatures in the world besides\ncaterpillars. I should like to see a few of them.\"\n\nThe cloak gave a little slip down, as if to say, \"All right, My Prince,\"\nand bore him across the oak forest to a long fertile valley. It was made\nup of cornfields, pasture fields, brooks, and ponds, and in it were a\nquantity of living creatures, wild and tame. Cows, horses, lambs and\nsheep fed in the meadows, pigs and fowls walked about the barnyards. In\nlonelier places were rabbits, wild birds inhabited the fields and woods.\n\nThrough his wonderful spectacles the Prince could see everything, but he\nwas too high up to hear anything except a faint murmur, which only\naroused his anxiety to hear more.\n\n\"I wonder if my godmother would give me a second pair of ears?\" he said.\n\nScarcely had he spoken, than he found lying on his lap the most curious\nlittle parcel, all done up in silver paper. And it contained a pair of\nsilver ears, which, when he tried them on, fitted so exactly over his\nown, that he hardly felt them, except for the difference they made in\nhis hearing.\n\n[Illustration: THE PRINCE GAZED EAGERLY DOWN INTO THE LARGEST ROOM HE\nHAD EVER BEHELD. [PAGE 40.]]\n\nThe sound which greeted his ears is one which we have heard many times,\nbut Prince Dolor, who had lived all his days in the dead silence of\nHopeless Tower, heard it for the first time. And oh! If you had seen his\nface.\n\nHe listened, and listened, and looked and looked. The motion of the\nanimals delighted him; cows walking, horses galloping, little lambs and\ncalves running races across the meadows, were a great treat for him to\nwatch.\n\n\"Godmother,\" he said, having now begun to believe that, whether he saw\nher or not, she could hear him--\"Godmother, I should like better to see\na creature like myself. Couldn't you show me just one little boy?\"\n\nSuddenly, a shrill whistle startled him, even through his silver ears,\nand looking downwards, he saw start up from behind a bush on a common,\nsomething--\n\nNeither a sheep, nor a horse, nor a cow--nothing upon four legs. This\ncreature had only two; but they were long, straight and strong. And it\nhad a lithe active body, and a curly head of black hair. It was a boy\nabout the Prince's own age--but, oh! so different. His face was almost\nas red as his hands, and his shaggy hair was matted like the backs of\nthe sheep he was tending. But he was a rather nice-looking lad; and\nseemed so bright and healthy and \"jolly,\" that the little Prince watched\nhim with great admiration.\n\n\"Might he come and play with me? I would drop down to the ground to him,\nor fetch him up to me.\"\n\nBut the cloak, usually so obedient, disobeyed him now. There was\nevidently some things which his godmother could or would not give. The\ncloak hung high in air, never attempting to descend. The shepherd lad\ntook it for a large bird, and shading his eyes, looked up at it, then\nturned round and stretched himself, for he had been half asleep, and his\ndog had been guarding the sheep.\n\nThe boy called to the dog and they started off together for a race\nacross the fields. Prince Dolor watched them with great excitement, for\na while, then the sweet, pale face grew a trifle paler, the lips began\nto quiver and the eyes to fill.\n\n\"How nice it must be to run like that!\" he said softly, thinking that\nnever--no, never in this world--would he be able to do the same.\n\n\"I think I had rather not look at him again,\" said the poor little\nPrince, drawing himself back into the centre of his cloak, and resuming\nhis favorite posture, sitting like a Turk, with his arms wrapped around\nhis feeble useless legs.\n\n\"You're no good to me,\" he said, patting them mournfully. \"You never\nwill be any good to me. I wonder why I have you at all; I wonder why I\nwas born at all, since I was not to grow up like other little boys.\"\n\nPrince Dolor sat a good while thus, and seemed to grow years older in a\nfew minutes.\n\nThen he fancied the cloak began to rock gently to and fro, with a\nsoothing kind of motion, as if he were in somebody's arms; somebody who\ndid not speak, but loved and comforted him without need of words.\n\nHe had placed himself so he could see nothing but the sky, and had taken\noff his silver ears, as well as his gold spectacles--what was the use of\neither when he had no legs to walk or run?--Up from below there rose a\ndelicious sound.\n\nYou have heard it hundreds of times, my children, and so have I. When I\nwas a child I thought there was nothing so sweet; and I think so still.\nIt was just the song of a lark, mounting higher and higher, until it\ncame so close that Prince Dolor could distinguish its quivering wings\nand tiny body, almost too tiny to contain such a gush of music.\n\n\"Oh, you beautiful, beautiful bird!\" cried he; \"I should dearly like to\ntake you in and cuddle you. That is, if I might--if I dared.\"\n\nHe was so absorbed that he forget all regret and pain, forgot everything\nin the world except the little lark, and he was just wondering if it\nwould soar out of sight, when it suddenly closed its wings, as larks do\nwhen they mean to drop to the ground. But, instead of dropping to the\nground, it dropped right into the little boy's breast.\n\nWhen he came in sight of Hopeless Tower, a painful thought struck him.\n\n\"My pretty bird, what am I to do with you? If I take you into my room\nand shut you up there, you will surely die for I heard my nurse once say\nthat the nicest thing she ever ate in her life was lark pie!\"\n\nThe little boy shivered all over at the thought, and in another minute\nhe had made up his mind.\n\n\"No, my bird, nothing so dreadful shall happen to you if I can help it;\nI would rather do without you altogether. Fly away, my darling! Good-bye\nmy merry, merry bird.\"\n\nOpening his two caressing hands, in which, as for protection, he had\nfolded it, he let the lark go. It lingered a minute, perched on the rim\nof the cloak, and looked at him with eyes of almost human tenderness;\nthen away it flew.\n\nBut, sometime after, when Prince Dolor had eaten his supper, and gone to\nbed, suddenly he heard outside the window a little faint carol--faint\nbut cheerful--even though it was the middle of the night.\n\nThe dear little lark, it had not flown away after all, but had remained\nabout the tower and he listened to its singing and went to sleep very\nhappy.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n\nAfter this journey which had given the Prince so much pain, his desire\nto see the world had somehow faded away. He contented himself with\nreading his books, and looking out of the tower windows, and listening\nto his beloved little lark, which had come home with him that day, and\nhad never left him again.\n\nTrue, it kept out of the way; but though his nurse sometimes faintly\nheard it, and said, \"What is that horrid noise outside?\" she never got\nthe faintest chance to make the lark into a pie.\n\nAll during the winter the little bird cheered and amused him. He\nscarcely needed anything more--not even his traveling cloak, which lay\nbundled unnoticed in a corner, tied up in its many knots.\n\nPrince Dolor was now a big boy. Not tall--alas! he never could be that,\nwith his poor little shrunken legs. But he was stout and strong, with\ngreat sturdy shoulders, and muscular arms, upon which he could swing\nhimself about almost as well as a monkey. His face, too, was very\nhandsome; thinner, firmer, more manly; but still the sweet face of his\nchildhood--his mother's own face.\n\nThe boy was not a stupid boy either. He could learn almost anything he\nchose--and he did choose, which was more than half the battle. He never\ngave up his lessons until he had learned them all--never thought it a\npunishment that he had to work at them, and that they cost him a deal of\ntrouble sometimes.\n\n\"But,\" thought he, \"men work, and it must be so grand to be a man;--a\nprince too; and I fancy princes work harder than anybody--except kings.\nThe princes I read about generally turn into kings. I wonder\"--the boy\nwas always wondering--\"Nurse\"--and one day he startled her with a sudden\nquestion--\"tell me--shall I ever be a king?\"\n\nThe woman stood, perplexed beyond expression. So long a time had passed\nby since her crime--if it were a crime--and her sentence, that she now\nseldom thought of either. She had even grown used to her punishment. And\nthe little prince whom she at first hated, she had learned to love--at\nleast, enough to feel sorry for him.\n\nThe Prince noticed that her feeling toward him was changing and did not\nshrink from her.\n\n\"Nurse--dear nurse,\" said he, one day, \"I don't mean to vex you, but\ntell me--what is a king? Shall I ever be one?\"\n\nThen the idea came to her--what harm would it be, even if he did know\nhis own history? Perhaps he ought to know it--for there had been many\nchanges in Nomansland, as in most other countries. Something might\nhappen--who could tell? Possibly a crown would yet be set upon those\npretty, fair curls--which she began to think prettier than ever when she\nsaw the imaginary crown upon them.\n\nShe sat down, considering whether her oath, \"never to say a word to\nPrince Dolor about himself,\" would be broken, if she were to take a\npencil and write, what was to be told. It was a miserable deception. But\nthen, she was an unhappy woman, more to be pitied than scorned.\n\nAfter long doubt, she put her finger to her lips, and taking the\nPrince's slate--with a sponge tied to it, ready to rub out the writing\nin a minute--she wrote:\n\n\"You are a king.\"\n\nPrince Dolor started. His face grew pale and then flushed all over; his\neyes glistened; he held himself erect. Lame as he was, anybody could see\nhe was born to be a king.\n\n\"Hush!\" said the nurse, as he was beginning to speak. And then,\nterribly frightened all the while, she wrote down in a few sentences,\nhis history. How his parents had died, how his uncle had stolen the\nthrone, and sent him to end his days in this lonely tower.\n\n\"I, too,\" added she, bursting into tears. \"Unless, indeed, you could get\nout into the world, and fight for your rights like a man. And fight for\nme also, My Prince, that I may not die in this desolate place.\"\n\n\"Poor old nurse,\" said the boy tenderly. For somehow, boy as he was,\nwhen he heard he was born to be a king, he felt like a man--like a\nking--who could afford to be tender because he was strong.\n\nHe scarcely slept that night, and barely listened to the singing of the\nlark. Things more important were in his mind.\n\n\"Suppose,\" thought he, \"I were to go into the world, no matter how it\nhurts me. The people might only laugh at me, but still I might show them\nI could do something. At any rate, I might go and see if there was\nanything for me to do. Godmother, help me!\"\n\nIt was so long since he had asked for help, that he was hardly surprised\nwhen he got no answer. He sprang out of bed, dressed himself, and leaped\nto the corner where lay his traveling-cloak and unrolled it.\n\nThen he jumped into the middle of it, said his charm, and was out\nthrough the skylight immediately.\n\n\"Good-bye, pretty lark!\" he shouted, as he passed it on the wing. \"You\nhave been my pleasure, now I must go and work. Sing to old nurse until I\ncome back again. Good-bye!\"\n\nBut as the cloak hung motionless in air, he suddenly remembered that he\nhad not made up his mind where to go--indeed, he did not know, and there\nwas nobody to tell him.\n\n\"Godmother,\" he cried, \"you know what I want. Tell me where I ought to\ngo; show me whatever I ought to see--never mind what I like.\"\n\nThis journey was not for pleasure as before. He was not a baby now, to\ndo nothing but play. Men work, this much Prince Dolor knew. As the cloak\nstarted off, over freezing mountain tops, and desolate forests, smiling\nplains and great lakes, he was often rather frightened. But he crouched\ndown, and wrapping himself up in his bearskin waited for what was to\nhappen.\n\nAfter some time he heard a murmur in the distance, and stretching his\nchin over the edge of the cloak, Prince Dolor saw--far, far below him,\nyet with his gold spectacles and silver ears on he could distinctly hear\nand see--a great city!\n\nSuppose you were to see a large city from the upper air; where, with\nyour ears and eyes open, you could take in everything at once. What\nwould it look like? How would you feel about it? I hardly know myself.\nDo you?\n\nPrince Dolor was as bewildered as a blind person who is suddenly made to\nsee.\n\nHe gazed down on the city below him, and then put his hand over his\neyes.\n\n\"I can't bear to look at it, it is so beautiful--so dreadful. And I\ndon't understand it--not one bit. I wish I had some one to tell me about\nit.\"\n\n\"Do you? Then pray speak to me.\"\n\nThe voice that squeaked out this reply came from a great black and white\nbird that flew into the cloak and began walking round and round on the\nedge of it with a dignified stride.\n\n\"I haven't the honor of your acquaintance,\" said the boy politely.\n\n\"My name is Mag and I shall be happy to tell you everything you want to\nknow. My family is very old; we have builded in this palace for many\nyears. I am well acquainted with the King, the Queen, and the little\nprinces and princesses--also the maids of honor, and all the\ninhabitants of the city. I talk a great deal, but I always talk sense,\nand I dare say I shall be very useful to a poor, little, ignorant boy\nlike you.\"\n\n\"I am a prince,\" said the other gently.\n\n\"All right. And I am a magpie.\"\n\nShe settled herself at his elbow and began to chatter away, pointing out\nwith one skinny claw every object of interest, evidently believing, as\nno doubt all its inhabitants did, that there was no city in the world\nlike the great capital of Nomansland.\n\nMag said that it was the finest city in the world but there were a few\nthings in it that surprised Prince Dolor. One half the people seemed so\nhappy and contented and the other half were so poor and miserable. \"I\nwould try to make it a little more equal if I were king,\" he said.\n\n\"But you're not the king,\" returned the magpie loftily. \"Shall I show\nyou the royal palace?\"\n\nIt was a magnificent palace covering many acres of ground. It had\nterraces and gardens; battlements and towers. But since the Queen died\nthe windows through which she looked at the Beautiful Mountains, had\nbeen closed and boarded up. The room was so little that no one cared to\nuse it.\n\n\"I should like to see the King,\" said Prince Dolor, and as he spoke Mag\nflew down to the palace roof, where the cloak rested, settling down\nbetween the great stocks of chimneys as comfortably as if on the ground.\nMag pecked at the tiles with her beak and immediately a little hole\nopened, a sort of door, through which could be seen distinctly the\nchamber below.\n\n\"Now pop down on your knees and take a peep at his Majesty.\"\n\n[Illustration: HE LIFTED UP HIS THIN, SLENDER HAND, AND THERE CAME A\nSILENCE OVER THE VAST CROWD IMMEDIATELY. [PAGE 47.]]\n\nThe Prince gazed eagerly down, into a large room, the largest room he\nhad ever beheld, with furniture and hangings grander than anything he\ncould have ever imagined. A sunbeam struck across the carpet and it\nlooked like a bed of flowers.\n\n\"Where is the King?\" asked the puzzled boy.\n\n\"There,\" said Mag, pointing with one wrinkled claw to a magnificent bed,\nlarge enough to contain six people. In the centre of it quite straight\nand still with its head on the lace pillow lay a small figure, something\nlike waxwork, fast asleep. There were a number of sparkling rings on the\ntiny yellow hands; the eyes were shut, and the nose looked sharp and\nthin, and the long grey beard hid the mouth, and lay over the breast.\nTwo little flies buzzing about the curtains of the bed was the only\naudible sound.\n\n\"Is that the King?\" whispered Prince Dolor.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the bird.\n\nHe had been angry ever since he learned how his uncle had taken the\ncrown and had felt as if, king as he was, he should like to strike him,\nthis great, strong wicked man.\n\nWhy, you might as well have struck a baby! How helpless he lay! with his\neyes shut, and his idle hands folded; they had no more work to do, bad\nor good.\n\n\"What is the matter with him?\" asked the Prince.\n\n\"He is dead,\" said the magpie with a croak.\n\nNo, there was not the least use in being angry with him now. On the\ncontrary, the Prince felt almost sorry for him.\n\n\"What shall we do now?\" asked the magpie. \"There's nothing much more to\nbe done with his Majesty, except a funeral. Suppose we float up again at\na safe distance and see it all. It will be such fun. There will be a\ngreat row in the city and I wonder who we shall have in his place?\"\n\n\"What will be fun?\"\n\n\"A Revolution.\"\n\nAs soon as the Cathedral bell began to toll, and the minute guns to\nfire, announcing to the Kingdom that it was without a king, the people\ngathered in crowds. The murmur now and then rose into a shout, and the\nshout into a roar. When Prince Dolor, quietly floating in the upper air,\ncaught the sound of their different and opposite cries, it seemed to him\nas if the whole city had gone mad together.\n\n\"Long live the King!\" \"The King is dead--down with the King!\" \"Down with\nthe crown and the King too!\" \"Hurrah for the Republic!\" \"Hurrah for no\ngovernment at all.\"\n\nSuch were the shouts which came up to him and then began, oh! what a\nscene! The country was in a revolution. Soldiers were shooting down\npeople by hundreds in the streets, scaffolds were being erected, heads\ndropping off, houses burned, and women and children murdered.\n\nPrince Dolor saw it all. Things happened so fast after one another that\nhe nearly lost his senses.\n\n\"Oh, let me go home,\" he cried at last, stopping his ears and shutting\nhis eyes, \"only let me go home!\" for even his lonely tower and its\ndreariness and silence, was absolute paradise after this.\n\nPrince Dolor fell into a kind of swoon and when he awoke he found\nhimself in his own room.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n\nNext morning when Prince Dolor awoke he perceived that his room was\nempty.\n\nVery uncomfortable he felt, of course; and just a little frightened.\nEspecially when he began to call again and again, but nobody answered.\n\n\"Nurse--dear nurse--please come back!\" he called out. \"Come back, and I\nwill be the best boy in all the land.\"\n\nAnd when she did not come back, and nothing but silence answered his\nlamentable call, he very nearly began to cry.\n\n\"This won't do,\" he said at last, dashing the tears from his eyes. \"It's\njust like a baby, and I'm a big boy--shall be a man some day. What has\nhappened, I wonder? I'll go and see.\"\n\nHe sprang out of bed and crawled from room to room on his knees.\n\n\"What in the world am I to do?\" thought he, and sat down in the middle\nof the floor, half inclined to believe that it would be better to give\nup entirely, lay himself down and die.\n\nThis feeling, however, did not last long. He jumped up and looked out of\nthe window. No help there. At first he only saw the broad bleak sunshiny\nplain. But, by-and-by, in the mud around the base of the tower he saw\nclearly the marks of horses' feet, and just in the spot where the deaf\nmute always tied his great black charger, there lay the remains of a\nbundle of hay.\n\n\"Yes, that's it. He has come and gone, taking nurse with him. Poor\nnurse! how glad she must have been to go!\"\n\nThat was Prince Dolor's first thought. His second was one of\nindignation at her cruelty.\n\nHe decided that it would be easier to die here alone than out in the\nworld, among the terrible doings which he had just beheld.\n\nThe deaf mute had come--contrived somehow to make the nurse understand\nthat the king was dead, and that she need have no fear in going back to\nthe capital.\n\n\"I hope she'll enjoy it,\" said the Prince.\n\nAnd then a kind of remorse smote him for feeling so bitterly towards\nher, after all the years she had taken care of him--grudgingly, perhaps,\nstill, she had taken care of him.\n\nFor the second time he tried to dress himself, and then to do everything\nhe could for himself--even to sweeping the hearth and putting on more\ncoals.\n\nHe then thought of his godmother. Not of calling her or asking her to\nhelp him--she had evidently left him to help himself, and he was\ndetermined to try his best to do it, being a very proud and independent\nboy--but he remembered her tenderly.\n\nAfter his first despair, he was comfortable and happy in his solitude,\nbut when it was time to go to bed, he was very lonely, even his little\nlark was silent and as for his traveling cloak, either he never thought\nabout it, or else it had been spirited away--for he made no use of it,\nnor attempted to do so.\n\nOn the sixth day, Prince Dolor had a strange contented look in his face.\nGet out of the tower he could not; the ladder the deaf mute used was\nalways carried away again and his food was nearly gone. So he made up\nhis mind to die. Not that he wished to die; on the contrary, there was a\ngreat deal that he wished to live to do. Dying did not seem so very\ndreadful; not even to lie quietly like his uncle, whom he had entirely\nforgiven now.\n\n\"Suppose I had grown to be a man, and had had work to do, and people to\ncare for, and was so useful and busy that they liked me, and perhaps\neven forgot that I was lame. Then, it would have been nice to have\nlived, I think,\" and tears came into the little fellow's eyes. Then he\nheard a trumpet, one of the great silver trumpets so admired in\nNomansland. Not pleasant music, but very bold and grand.\n\nThe poor condemned woman had not been such a wicked woman after all. As\nsoon as she heard of the death of the King, she persuaded the deaf-mute\nto take her away with him, and they galloped like the wind from city to\ncity, spreading everywhere the news that Prince Dolor's death and burial\nhad been an invention concocted by his wicked uncle--that he was alive\nand well, and the noblest young Prince that ever was born.\n\nIt was a bold stroke, but it succeeded. People jumped at the idea of\nthis Prince, who was the son of their late good King and Queen.\n\n\"Hurrah for Prince Dolor! Let him be our king!\" rang from end to end of\nthe kingdom. They were determined to have him reign over them.\nAccordingly no sooner was the late king laid in his grave than they\npronounced him a usurper; turned all his family out of the palace, and\nleft it empty for the reception of the new sovereign, whom they went to\nfetch with great rejoicing.\n\nThey hailed him with delight, as prince and king and went down on their\nknees before him, offering the crown to him.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, \"if you desire it, I will be your king. And I will do my\nbest to make my people happy.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" said he, \"if before I go, I could only see my dear godmother.\" He\ngazed sadly up to the skylight, whence there came pouring a stream of\nsunrays like a bridge between heaven and earth. Sliding down it, came\nthe little woman in grey.\n\nHe held out his arms in eager delight.\n\n\"Oh, godmother, you have not forsaken me!\"\n\n\"Not at all my son. You may not have seen me, but I have seen you many\na time.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"Oh, never mind. I can turn into anything I please you know.\"\n\n\"A lark, for instance,\" cried Prince Dolor.\n\n\"Or a Magpie,\" answered she with a capital imitation of Mag's croaky\nvoice.\n\n\"You will not leave me now that I am king? Otherwise I had rather not be\na king at all,\" said he.\n\nThe little old woman laughed gaily. \"Forsake you? That is impossible.\nBut now I must go. Good-bye! Open the window and out I fly.\"\n\nPrince Dolor tried to hold his godmother fast, but in vain. A knocking\nwas heard at the door, and the little woman vanished.\n\nHis godmother helped him out of many difficulties for there was never\nsuch a wise old woman.\n\nHe was very happy and contented; first, because he took his affliction\npatiently; second, because being a brave man, he bore it bravely.\nTherefore other people grew to love him so well, that I think hundreds\nof his subjects might have been found who were almost ready to die for\ntheir poor lame king.\n\nHe did a good many things, however, which a little astonished his\nsubjects. First, he pardoned the condemned woman, who had been his nurse\nand ordered that there should be no such thing as the death punishment\nin Nomansland.\n\nThen he chose the eldest son of his eldest cousin, a quiet, unobtrusive\nboy, to be educated as heir to the throne.\n\nIn course of time, when the little prince had grown into a tall young\nman, King Dolor fixed a day when the people should assemble in the great\nsquare of the capital to see the young prince installed solemnly in his\nnew duties.\n\nThe king lifted up his thin slender hand and there came a silence over\nthe vast crowd immediately as he pronounced the vows which made the\nyoung prince king.\n\nMy people he said, I am tired; I want to rest; it is time for me to go\nand I do not think I shall come back any more. He drew a little bundle\nout of his breast pocket. Then, so suddenly that even those nearest to\nhis Majesty could not tell how, the king was away--floating right up in\nthe air--upon something they knew not what. Whither he went or who went\nwith him it is impossible to say, but I myself believe that his\ngodmother took him on his traveling cloak to the Beautiful Mountains.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\n\n\nCHARACTER BOOK\n\n    Arranged by\n    JOSEPHINE L. ADAMS\n\n\nThis book is prepared for and dedicated to \"the girls.\" It is for their\ngirl friends to write in, being left with many inviting blank spaces for\nthe answer to interesting questions about their favorite people, songs,\namusements, plays, books and other things one naturally wants to know\nabout. The sum total of all these queries not only furnishes lots of fun\nat the time of writing, but also gives a good character study of the\nwriter and a souvenir of one's friends, which every girl will be glad to\ntreasure.\n\nIt is said that life is made up of little things. Certainly, as we look\nback, these trifles often seem of most interest and value to us. And it\nis in order to preserve some of these stray bits of gold dust that this\nCHARACTER BOOK has been prepared--at the suggestion of one clever girl.\n\n        Cloth, 12mo, 75c.\n    Persian ooze, boxed, $1.25.\n\n\n\n\nHOLIDAY AND SOCIAL HAPPENINGS\n\n    Arranged by\n    MINNIE E. SALISBURY\n\n    Illustrated by\n    HORACE KINNEY CRANMER\n\n\nThis unique volume is an exceedingly attractive and practical gift book\nin which one may keep a record of social and holiday happenings and\nincidents of interest to one's self. Under the various headings, such as\n\"Christmas,\" \"New Year's Day,\" \"Parties and Entertainments,\" etc.,\ndescriptions may be written which will assist one to avoid or repeat the\ndetails of a similar event in the future. Under the headings, \"Special\nOccasions,\" \"Miscellaneous,\" \"Trips,\" etc., many happy and interesting\nevents may be recorded, and as time goes on this chronicle of happenings\nmay prove a pleasure and solace, dispelling the shadow of age with the\nsunshine of youth. Handsomely illustrated throughout and printed in\nthree colors on a superior grade of paper having a good writing surface.\n\n    Cloth, size 6-1/2 x 8-3/4 inches, boxed, $1.25.\n                Paste grain, boxed, $2.50.\n                Velvet ooze, boxed, $2.50.\n\n\n\n\nCARD CLUB RECORD\n\n\nEvery person who attends card parties wants to refer at some time or\nanother to what happened at or who attended a certain gathering and here\nis a book specially designed for that purpose. Blank spaces are provided\nin which to record: The Date, Hostess, Game Played, Scores, Prizes,\nWinners, Refreshments, Guests, and General Remarks. The book is printed\nin two colors with handsome border designs, and includes concise card\nrules of latest revision. Both bindings put in a handsome box.\n\n    Cloth binding, cover stamped in gold, boxed,  $1.00\n    Full leather binding, full gilt edges, boxed, $2.00\n\n    NOTE  THIS BOOK MAKES THE VERY BEST\n          KIND OF A =CARD PARTY PRIZE=\n\n\n\n\nEverybody should save their\n\n    T H E A T R E   P R O G R A M S\n\n\nIn after years many of them become historic and increase wonderfully in\nvalue as souvenirs of the great plays and actors you have seen. Nearly\nevery one takes home their theatre program, and =is at a loss afterwards\nwhat to do with it=, or where to put it so it can be found when wanted\nin the future. Here is a book that solves the problem:\n\n    PLAYS AND PLAYERS\n    A Theatre-Goer's Record\n\nin which one may keep a record of the plays seen, the date, play,\ntheatre, in whose company, coupon of seats, comment on the play and\nplayers, synopsis of scenes, cast of characters, pictures, scenes and\nclippings pertaining to the play.\n\nThe paper (India Tint) is of fine quality; the printing is in colors;\nthe binding is cloth with an appropriate cover design in colors; the\nwhole making a very attractive book for gift purposes, or for one's\nown use, and is put up in a handsome box.\n\n    8-3/4 x 6-3/4 inches, cloth binding (boxed) =$1.50=\n    Full limp leather, gilt edges (boxed)        =3.00=\n\n\n\n\nDINNERS AND LUNCHEONS\n\nCompiled by PAUL PIERCE\n\n\nThe busy housewife is ever seeking for something new--for unique\nideas for these occasions. This book is full of suggestions--\"Ice\nBreakers, for Getting the Company Started Right,\" \"Sentiments and\nQuotations for Dinner Menus,\" \"Dinners for Patriotic and Special\nOccasions and appropriate table stories and toasts,\" \"Favors and\nPlace Cards,\" \"Helps Over Hard Places,\" \"Don'ts for the Table,\"\n\"Passing the Loving Cup,\" are some of the many hints.\n\nAppropriate cover design in colors. Size 6-1/4 x 4-1/2 in. =50c=\n\n\n\n\nPARTIES AND ENTERTAINMENTS\n\nCompiled by PAUL PIERCE\n\n\n\"_What shall I do to entertain my friends?_\" is always the question\nthat confronts the hostess. It is answered here. This little book is\nmade up of new and novel suggestions for all kinds of occasions,\nsomething to replace the thread-worn ideas of old time social usage.\nHere are some of the chapter headings: \"A Rainbow Bridge,\" \"A German\nWhist,\" \"Golf Euchre,\" \"Valentine's Day,\" \"St. Patrick's Day,\" \"April\nFool's Day,\" \"Easter,\" \"Decoration Day,\" \"Fourth of July,\" \"Hallowe'en,\"\n\"Thanksgiving Day,\" \"Christmas,\" \"New Year's,\" \"Birthday,\" \"Colonial\nBall,\" \"Lawn Parties,\" \"Children's Parties,\" etc.\n\nAppropriate cover design in colors. Size 6-1/4 x 4-1/2 in. =50c=\n\n\n\n\nGAMES FOR ALL OCCASIONS\n\nBy MARY E. BLAIN\n\n\nA most complete book of games for young and old--games for tiny\ntots--games for children and games for adults. Also games for\nspecial occasions such as\n\n    HALLOWE'EN\n    CHRISTMAS\n    EASTER\n    MAY DAY\n    ST. VALENTINE'S DAY\n    LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY\n    FOURTH OF JULY\n    NEW YEAR'S DAY\n    WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY, ETC.\n\nA great many new and novel suggestions are given as to how to decorate\nthe house and what to serve on these special occasions.\n\nCloth binding, size 5-1/4 in. x 7-3/4 in., net 50c.\n\n\n\n\nTOASTS AND AFTER-DINNER STORIES\n\n\nBeing a careful selection of the best toasts and sentiments, new and\nold, gleaned from the writings of standard and popular authors and\nconveniently arranged for reference. The scope of the subjects is\nwide and the variety such that this book is all that could be desired\nin a book of toasts. The latter half of the book is a collection of\nside-splitting and clever stories as told by the great humorists and\nwell-known after-dinner speakers. Here again the wide range of subjects\nmakes this book especially useful and withal highly entertaining. The\nidea of a combination of toasts and stories (two-books-in-one) is\nattractive.\n\nCloth binding. Cover design in five colors from appropriate drawing.\nSize 6-1/4 x 4-1/2 in. =50c=\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFor sale at all book stores, or sent (postage paid) on receipt of price,\nby the publishers\n\n    BARSE & HOPKINS\n    526 West 26th Street      NEW YORK","title":"The Little Lame Prince: Rewritten for Young Readers by Margaret Waters","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":14106}