"

The little old woman laughed like a chime of silver bells.

"I have not got a name--or, rather, I have so many names that I don't
know which to choose. However, it was I who gave you yours, and you will
belong to me all your days. I am your godmother."

"Hurrah!" cried the little Prince; "I am glad I belong to you, for I
like you very much. Will you come and play with me?"

So they sat down together and played. By and by they began to talk.

"Are you very dull here?" asked the little old woman.

"Not particularly, thank you, godmother. I have plenty to eat and drink,
and my lessons to do, and my books to read--lots of books."

"And you want nothing?"

"Nothing. Yes--perhaps----If you please, godmother, could you bring me
just one more thing?"

"What sort of thing!"

"A little boy to play with."

The old woman looked very sad. "Just the thing, alas I which I cannot
give you. My child, I cannot alter your lot in any way, but I can help
you to bear it."

"Thank you. But why do you talk of bearing it? I have nothing to bear."

"My poor little man!" said the old woman in the very tenderest tone of
her tender voice. "Kiss me!"

"What is kissing?" asked the wondering child.

His godmother took him in her arms and embraced him many times. By and
by he kissed her back again--at first awkwardly and shyly, then with all
the strength of his warm little heart.

"You are better to cuddle than even my white kitten, I think. Promise me
that you will never go away."

"I must; but I will leave a present behind me,--something as good as
myself to amuse you,--something that will take you wherever you want to
go, and show you all that you wish to see."

"What is it?"

"A traveling-cloak."

The Prince's countenance fell. "I don't want a cloak, for I never go
out. Sometimes nurse hoists me on to the roof, and carries me round by
the parapet; but that is all. I can't walk, you know, as she does."

"The more reason why you should ride; and besides, this
traveling-cloak----"

"Hush!--she's coming."

There sounded outside the room door a heavy step and a grumpy voice, and
a rattle of plates and dishes.

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

"Perhaps; but only for a little while. Never mind; all the bolts and
bars in the world couldn't keep me out. I'd fly in at the window, or
down through the chimney. Only wis