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Andwhatofthetraveling-cloak?Whatsortofcloakwasit,andwhatgooddiditdothePrince?
Stay,andI’lltellyouallaboutit.Outsideitwasthecommonest-lookingbundleimaginable—shabbyandsmall;andtheinstantPrinceDolortouchedit,itgrewsmallerstill,dwindlingdowntillhecouldputitinhistrouserspocket,likeahandkerchiefrolledupintoaball.
Hedidthisatonce,forfearhisnurseshouldseeit,andkeptitthereallday—allnight,too.
Tillafterhisnextmorning’slessonshehadnoopportunityofexamininghistreasure.
Whenhedid,itseemednotreasureatall;butamerepieceofcloth—circularinform,darkgreenincolor—thatis,ifithadanycoloratall,beingsowornandshabby,thoughnotdirty.
Ithadasplitcuttothecenter,formingaroundholefortheneck—andthatwasallitsshape;theshape,infact,ofthosecloakswhichinSouthAmericaarecalledponchos—verysimple,butmostgracefulandconvenient.
PrinceDolorhadneverseenanythinglikeit.
Inspiteofhisdisappointment,heexamineditcuriously;spreaditoutonthedoor,thenarrangeditonhisshoulders.
Itfeltverywarmandcomfortable;butitwassoexceedinglyshabby—theonlyshabbythingthatthePrincehadeverseeninhislife.
“Andwhatusewillitbetome?”saidhesadly.
“Ihavenoneedofoutdoorclothes,asInevergoout.Whywasthisgivenme,Iwonder?
andwhatintheworldamItodowithit?
Shemustbearatherfunnyperson,thisdeargodmotherofmine.”
Nevertheless,becauseshewashisgodmother,andhadgivenhimthecloak,hefoldeditcarefullyandputitaway,poorandshabbyasitwas,hidingitinasafecornerofhistopcupboard,whichhisnursenevermeddledwith.
Hedidnotwanthertofindit,ortolaughatitorathisgodmother—ashefeltsureshewould,ifsheknewall.
Thereitlay,andbyandbyheforgotallaboutit;nay,Iamsorrytosaythat,beingbutachild,andnotseeingheragain,healmostforgothissweetoldgodmother,orthoughtofheronlyashedidoftheangelsorfairiesthathereadofinhisbooks,andofhervisitasifithadbeenameredreamofthenight.
Thereweretimes,certainly,whenherecalledher:ofearlymornings,likethatmorningwhensheappearedbesidehim,andlateevenings,whenthegraytwilightremindedhimofthecolorofherhairandherprettysoftgarments;aboveall,when,wakinginthemiddleofthenight,withthestarspeeringinathiswindow,orthemoonlightshiningacrosshislittlebed,hewouldnothavebeensurprisedtoseeherstandingbesideit,lookingathimwiththosebeautifultendereyes,whichseemedtohaveapleasantnessandcomfortinthemdifferentfromanythinghehadeverknown.
Butshenevercame,andgraduallysheslippedoutofhismemory—onlyaboy’smemory,afterall;untilsomethinghappenedwhichmadehimrememberher,andwantherashehadneverwantedanythingbefore.
PrinceDolorfellill.Hecaught—hisnursecouldnottellhow—acomplaintcommontothepeopleofNomansland,calledthedoldrums,asunpleasantasmeaslesoranyotherofourcomplaints;anditmadehimrestless,cross,anddisagreeable.
Evenwhenalittlebetter,hewastooweaktoenjoyanything,butlayalldaylongonhissofa,fidgetinghisnurseextremely—while,inherintenseterrorlesthemightdie,shefidgetedhimstillmore.
Atlast,seeinghereallywasgettingwell,shelefthimtohimself—whichhewasmostgladof,inspiteofhisdullnessanddreariness.Therehelay,alone,quitealone.
Nowandthenanirritablefitcameoverhim,inwhichhelongedtogetupanddosomething,ortogosomewhere—wouldhavelikedtoimitatehiswhitekitten—jumpdownfromthetowerandrunaway,takingthechanceofwhatevermighthappen.
Onlyonething,alas!waslikelytohappen;forthekitten,heremembered,hadfouractivelegs,whilehe——
“Iwonderwhatmygodmothermeantwhenshelookedatmylegsandsighedsobitterly?
IwonderwhyIcan’twalkstraightandsteadylikemynurseonlyIwouldn’tliketohavehergreat,noisy,clumpingshoes.
Stillitwouldbeverynicetomoveaboutquickly—perhapstofly,likeabird,likethatstringofbirdsIsawtheotherdayskimmingacrossthesky,oneaftertheother.”
Thesewerethepassage-birds—theonlylivingcreaturesthatevercrossedthelonelyplain;andhehadbeenmuchinterestedinthem,wonder-ingwhencetheycameandwhithertheyweregoing.
“Howniceitmustbetobeabird!Iflegsarenogood,whycannotonehavewings?
Peoplehavewingswhentheydie—perhaps;IwishIweredead,thatIdo.
Iamsotired,sotired;andnobodycaresforme.
Nobodyeverdidcareforme,exceptperhapsmygodmother.
Godmother,dear,haveyouquiteforsakenme?”
Hestretchedhimselfwearily,gatheredhimselfup,anddroppedhisheaduponhishands;ashedidso,hefeltsomebodykisshimatthebackofhisneck,and,turning,foundthathewasresting,notonthesofapillows,butonawarmshoulder—thatofthelittleoldwomanclothedingray.
Howgladhewastoseeher!Howhelookedintoherkindeyesandfeltherhands,toseeifshewereallrealandalive!
thenputbothhisarmsroundherneck,andkissedherasifhewouldneverhavedonekissing.
“Stop,stop!”criedshe,pretendingtobesmothered.“Iseeyouhavenotforgottenmyteachings.Kissingisagoodthing—inmoderation.Onlyjustletmehavebreathtospeakoneword.”
“Adozen!”hesaid.
“Well,then,tellmeallthathashappenedtoyousinceIsawyou—or,rather,sinceyousawme,whichisquiteadifferentthing.”
“Nothinghashappened—nothingeverdoeshappentome,”answeredthePrincedolefully.
“Andareyouverydull,myboy?”
“SodullthatIwasjustthinkingwhetherIcouldnotjumpdowntothebottomofthetower,likemywhitekitten.”
“Don’tdothat,notbeingawhitekitten.”
“IwishIwere—IwishIwereanythingbutwhatIam.”
“Andyoucan’tmakeyourselfanydifferent,norcanIdoiteither.Youmustbecontenttostayjustwhatyouare.”
Thelittleoldwomansaidthis—veryfirmly,butgently,too—withherarmsroundhisneckandherlipsonhisforehead.
Itwasthefirsttimetheboyhadeverheardanyonetalklikethis,andhelookedupinsurprise—butnotinpain,forhersweetmannersoftenedthehardnessofherwords.
“Now,myPrince,—foryouareaprince,andmustbehaveassuch,—letusseewhatwecando;howmuchIcandoforyou,orshowyouhowtodoforyourself.Whereisyourtraveling-cloak?”
PrinceDolorblushedextremely.“I—Iputitawayinthecupboard;Isupposeitistherestill.”
“Youhaveneverusedit;youdislikeit?”
Hehesitated,notwishingtobeimpolite.“Don’tyouthinkit’s—justalittleoldandshabbyforaprince?”
Theoldwomanlaughed—longandloud,thoughverysweetly.
“Prince,indeed!Why,ifalltheprincesintheworldcravedforit,theycouldn’tgetit,unlessIgaveitthem.Oldandshabby!
It’sthemostvaluablethingimaginable!
Veryfeweverhaveit;butIthoughtIwouldgiveittoyou,because—becauseyouaredifferentfromotherpeople.”
“AmI?”saidthePrince,andlookedfirstwithcuriosity,thenwithasortofanxiety,intohisgodmother’sface,whichwassadandgrave,withslowtearsbeginningtostealdown.
Shetouchedhispoorlittlelegs.“Thesearenotlikethoseofotherlittleboys.”
“Indeed!—mynursenevertoldmethat.”
“Verylikelynot.Butitistimeyouweretold;andItellyou,becauseIloveyou.”
“Tellmewhat,deargodmother?”
“Thatyouwillneverbeabletowalkorrunorjumporplay—thatyourlifewillbequitedifferentfrommostpeople’slives;butitmaybeaveryhappylifeforallthat.Donotbeafraid.”
“Iamnotafraid,”saidtheboy;butheturnedverypale,andhislipsbegantoquiver,thoughhedidnotactuallycry—hewastoooldforthat,and,perhaps,tooproud.
Thoughnotwhollycomprehending,hebegandimlytoguesswhathisgodmothermeant.
Hehadneverseenanyrealliveboys,buthehadseenpicturesofthemrunningandjumping;whichhehadadmiredandtriedhardtoimitatebutalwaysfailed.
Nowhebegantounderstandwhyhefailed,andthathealwaysshouldfail—that,infact,hewasnotlikeotherlittleboys;anditwasofnousehiswishingtodoastheydid,andplayastheyplayed,evenifhehadhadthemtoplaywith.
Hiswasaseparatelife,inwhichhemustfindoutnewworkandnewpleasuresforhimself.
ThesenseofTHEINEVITABLE,asgrown-uppeoplecallit—thatwecannothavethingsaswewantthemtobe,butastheyare,andthatwemustlearntobearthemandmakethebestofthem—thislesson,whicheverybodyhastolearnsoonorlate—came,alas!sadlysoon,tothepoorboy.
Hefoughtagainstitforawhile,andthen,quiteovercome,turnedandsobbedbitterlyinhisgodmother’sarms.
Shecomfortedhim—Idonotknowhow,exceptthatlovealwayscomforts;andthenshewhisperedtohim,inhersweet,strong,cheerfulvoice:“Nevermind!”
“No,Idon’tthinkIdomind—thatis,IWON’Tmind,”repliedhe,catchingthecourageofhertoneandspeakinglikeaman,thoughhewasstillsuchamereboy.
“Thatisright,myPrince!—thatisbeinglikeaprince.Nowweknowexactlywhereweare;letusputourshoulderstothewheeland——”
“WeareinHopelessTower”(thiswasitsname,ifithadaname),“andthereisnowheeltoputourshouldersto,”saidthechildsadly.
“Youlittlematter-of-factgoose!Wellforyouthatyouhaveagodmothercalled——”
“What?”heeagerlyasked.
“Stuff-and-nonsense.”
“Stuff-and-nonsense!Whatafunnyname!”
“Somepeoplegiveitme,buttheyarenotmymostintimatefriends.
Thesecallme—nevermindwhat,”addedtheoldwoman,withasofttwinkleinhereyes.
“Soasyouknowme,andknowmewell,youmaygivemeanynameyouplease;itdoesn’tmatter.ButIamyourgodmother,child.
Ihavefewgodchildren;thoseIhavelovemedearly,andfindmethegreatestblessinginalltheworld.”
“Icanwellbelieveit,”criedthelittlelamePrince,andforgothistroublesinlookingather—asherfiguredilated,hereyesgrewlustrousasstars,herveryraimentbrightened,andthewholeroomseemedfilledwithherbeautifulandbeneficentpresencelikelight.
Hecouldhavelookedatherforever—halfinlove,halfinawe;butshesuddenlydwindleddownintothelittleoldwomanallingray,and,withamalicioustwinkleinhereyes,askedforthetraveling-cloak.
“Bringitoutoftherubbishcupboard,andshakethedustoffit,quick!”
saidshetoPrinceDolor,whohunghishead,ratherashamed.
“Spreaditoutonthefloor,andwaittillthesplitclosesandtheedgesturnuplikearimallround.
Thengoandopentheskylight,—mind,IsayOPENTHESKYLIGHT,—setyourselfdowninthemiddleofit,likeafrogonawater-lilyleaf;say‘Abracadabra,dumdumdum,’and—seewhatwillhappen!”
ThePrinceburstintoafitoflaughing.Itallseemedsoexceedinglysilly;hewonderedthatawiseoldwomanlikehisgodmothershouldtalksuchnonsense.
“Stuff-and-nonsense,youmean,”saidshe,answering,tohisgreatalarm,hisunspokenthoughts.“DidInottellyousomepeoplecalledmebythatname?Nevermind;itdoesn’tharmme.”
Andshelaughed—hermerrylaugh—aschild-likeasifshewerethePrince’sageinsteadofherown,whateverthatmightbe.Shecertainlywasamostextraordinaryoldwoman.
“Believemeornot,itdoesn’tmatter,”saidshe.
“Hereisthecloak:whenyouwanttogotravelingonit,say‘Abracadabra,dum,dum,dum’;whenyouwanttocomebackagain,say‘Abracadabra,tumtumti.’That’sall;good-by.”
Apuffofmostpleasantairpassingbyhim,andmakinghimfeelforthemomentquitestrongandwell,wasallthePrincewasconsciousof.Hismostextraordinarygodmotherwasgone.
“Reallynow,howrosyyourRoyalHighness’cheekshavegrown!Youseemtohavegotwellalready,”saidthenurse,enteringtheroom.
“IthinkIhave,”repliedthePrinceverygently—hefeltgentlyandkindlyeventohisgrimnurse.“Andnowletmehavemydinner,andgoyoutoyoursewingasusual.”
Theinstantshewasgone,however,takingwithhertheplatesanddishes,whichforthefirsttimesincehisillnesshehadsatisfactorilycleared,PrinceDolorsprangdownfromhissofa,andwithoneortwoofhisfrog-likejumpsreachedthecupboardwherehekepthistoys,andlookedeverywhereforhistraveling-cloak.
Alas!itwasnotthere.
Whilehewasillofthedoldrums,hisnurse,thinkingitagoodopportunityforputtingthingstorights,hadmadeagrandclearanceofallhis“rubbish”—assheconsideredit:hisbelovedheadlesshorses,brokencarts,sheepwithoutfeet,andbirdswithoutwings—allthetreasuresofhisbabydays,whichhecouldnotbeartopartwith.
Thoughheseldomplayedwiththemnow,helikedjusttofeeltheywerethere.
Theywereallgoneandwiththemthetraveling-cloak.Hesatdownonthefloor,lookingattheemptyshelves,sobeautifullycleanandtidy,thenburstoutsobbingasifhisheartwouldbreak.
Butquietly—alwaysquietly.Heneverlethisnursehearhimcry.Sheonlylaughedathim,ashefeltshewouldlaughnow.
“Anditisallmyownfault!”hecried.
“Ioughttohavetakenbettercareofmygodmother’sgift.Oh,godmother,forgiveme!I’llneverbesocarelessagain.
Idon’tknowwhatthecloakisexactly,butIamsureitissomethingprecious.Helpmetofinditagain.
Oh,don’tletitbestolenfromme—don’t,please!”
“Ha,ha,ha!”laughedasilveryvoice.
“Why,thattraveling-cloakistheonethingintheworldwhichnobodycansteal.
Itisofnousetoanybodyexcepttheowner.
Openyoureyes,myPrince,andseewhatyoushallsee.”
Hisdearoldgodmother,hethought,andturnedeagerlyround.Butno;heonlybeheld,lyinginacorneroftheroom,alldustandcobwebs,hisprecioustraveling-cloak.
PrinceDolordartedtowardit,tumblingseveraltimesontheway,asheoftendidtumble,poorboy!
andpickhimselfupagain,nevercomplaining.
Snatchingittohisbreast,hehuggedandkissedit,cobwebsandall,asifithadbeensomethingalive.
Thenhebeganunrollingit,wonderingeachminutewhatwouldhappen.
WhatdidhappenwassocuriousthatImustleaveitforanotherchapter.
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