"Some people give it me, but they are not my most intimate friends. These call me--never mind what," added the old woman, with a soft twinkle in her eyes. "So as you know me, and know me well, you may give me any name you please; it doesn't matter. But I am your godmother, child. I have few godchildren; those Ihave love me dearly, and find me the greatest blessing in all the world.""I can well believe it," cried the little lame Prince, and forgot his troubles in looking at her--as her figure dilated, her eyes grew lustrous as stars, her very raiment brightened, and the whole room seemed filled with her beautiful and beneficent presence like light.
He could have looked at her forever--half in love, half in awe; but she suddenly dwindled down into the little old woman all in gray, and, with a malicious twinkle in her eyes, asked for the traveling-cloak.
"Bring it out of the rubbish cupboard, and shake the dust off it, quick!" said she to Prince Dolor, who hung his head, rather ashamed.
"Spread it out on the floor, and wait till the split closes and the edges turn up like a rim all round. Then go and open the skylight,--mind, I say OPEN THE SKYLIGHT,--set yourself down in the middle of it, like a frog on a water-lily leaf;say `Abracadabra, dum dum dum,' and--see what will happen!"The Prince burst into a fit of laughing. It all seemed so exceedingly silly; he wondered that a wise old woman like his godmother should talk such nonsense.
"Stuff-and-nonsense, you mean," said she, answering, to his great alarm, his unspoken thoughts. "Did I not tell you some people called me by that name? Never mind; it doesn't harm me."And she laughed--her merry laugh--as child-like as if she were the Prince's age instead of her own, whatever that might be. She certainly was a most extraordinary old woman.
"Believe me or not, it doesn't matter," said she. "Here is the cloak: when you want to go traveling on it, say `Abracadabra, dum, dum, dum'; when you want to come back again, say `Abracadabra, tum tum ti.' That's all; good-by."A puff of most pleasant air passing by him. and making him feel for the moment quite strong and well, was all the Prince was conscious of. His most extraordinary godmother was gone.
"Really now, how rosy your Royal Highness' cheeks have grown! You seem to have got well already," said the nurse, entering the room.
"I think I have," replied the Prince very gently--he felt gently and kindly even to his grim nurse. "And now let me have my dinner, and go you to your sewing as usual."The instant she was gone, however, taking with her the plates and dishes, which for the first time since his illness he had satisfactorily cleared, Prince Dolor sprang down from his sofa, and with one or two of his frog-like jumps reached the cupboard where he kept his toys, and looked everywhere for his traveling-cloak.
Alas! it was not there.
While he was ill of the doldrums, his nurse, thinking it a good opportunity for putting things to rights, had made a grand clearance of all his "rubbish"--as she considered it: his beloved headless horses, broken carts, sheep without feet, and birds without wings--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, so beautifully clean and tidy, then burst out sobbing as if his heart would break.
But quietly--always quietly. He never let his nurse hear him cry. She only laughed at him, as he felt she would laugh now.
"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 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, my Prince, and see what you shall see."His dear old godmother, he thought, and turned eagerly round. But no; he only beheld, lying in a corner of the room, all dust and cobwebs, his precious traveling-cloak.
Prince Dolor darted toward it, tumbling several times on the way, as he often did tumble, poor boy! and pick himself up again, never complaining. Snatching it to his breast, he hugged and kissed it, cobwebs and all, as if it had been something alive. Then he began unrolling it, wondering each minute what would happen. What did happen was so curious that I must leave it for another chapter.
