hope, an exception, too.

He did not mean to be cruel. If anybody had called him so, he would
have resented it extremely: he would have said that what he did was done
entirely for the good of the country. But he was a man who had always
been accustomed to consider himself first and foremost, believing that
whatever he wanted was sure to be right, and therefore he ought to have
it. So he tried to get it, and got it too, as people like him very often
do. Whether they enjoy it when they have it is another question.

Therefore he went one day to the council chamber, determined on making
a speech, and informing the ministers and the country at large that the
young King was in failing health, and that it would be advisable to send
him for a time to the Beautiful Mountains. Whether he really meant to
do this, or whether it occurred to him afterward that there would be an
easier way of attaining his great desire, the crown of Nomansland, is a
point which I cannot decide.

But soon after, when he had obtained an order in council to send the
King away, which was done in great state, with a guard of honor composed
of two whole regiments of soldiers,--the nation learned, without much
surprise, that the poor little Prince--nobody ever called him king
now--had gone a much longer journey than to the Beautiful Mountains.

He had fallen ill on the road and died within a few hours; at least so
declared the physician in attendance and the nurse who had been sent
to take care of him. They brought his coffin back in great state, and
buried it in the mausoleum with his parents.

So Prince Dolor was seen no more. The country went into deep mourning
for him, and then forgot him, and his uncle reigned in his stead. That
illustrious personage accepted his crown with great decorum, and wore it
with great dignity to the last. But whether he enjoyed it or not there
is no evidence to show.

CHAPTER III

And what of the little lame Prince, whom everybody seemed so easily to
have forgotten?

Not everybody. There were a few kind souls, mothers of families, who had
heard his sad story, and some servants about the palace, who had been
familiar with his sweet ways--these many a time sighed and said, "Poor
Prince Dolor!" Or, looking at the Beautiful Mountains, which were
visible all over Nomansland, though few people ever visited them, "Well,
perhaps his Royal Highness is better where he is than even there."

They did not know--indeed, hardl