ts undoing had been carried away by the wind.
Malvolia herself had disappeared.

The Prince became a handsome little boy. Accomplished teachers taught
him history, music, drawing, dancing, and all the other things that a
prince ought to know. But of real life he knew almost nothing at all.

His most faithful friend during these lonely years was a French poodle,
who spoke both French and English exceedingly well. Of course, he had a
marked canine accent, rather growling his g's and howling the aw's and
the ow's, but his words were well chosen and his vocabulary extensive.
Never was seen a more friendly, wise, and devoted animal.

When the King decided to have him sent away for a while, for he feared
that his son was getting a touch of Poldo's barky manner of speaking,
from too close an association, the little Prince became really ill from
grief, and the King was forced to alter his decision.

During his imprisonment in the tower, in spite of all precautions, the
Prince sneezed three times. At the first sneeze, all the dogs in the
kingdom except Poldo changed into cats, and all the cats into dogs.
Though this was not a serious trouble, the change was certainly
inconvenient. All the dog-cats came out meowing at people as the dogs
used to bark at them, and they chased people down the street; the
cat-dogs, on the other hand, stayed in the kitchen under the stove, and
watched for mice in the pantry. Great St. Bernards might be seen licking
their paws and rubbing them over their foreheads, and fat, old
cat-lap-dogs used to try to purr.

At the second sneeze, all the elderly gentlemen over seventy changed
into elm trees, a proceeding that caused a terrible lot of trouble.

At the third sneeze, all the people in the pictures at the Art Museum
became alive, and for a week the soldiers of the royal guard spent most
of their time rescuing poor, bewildered fauns, satyrs, nymphs, Roman
senators, and long dead celebrities and historical personages from the
worst destitution. The King finally had to build a special castle for
them.

As the Prince's twenty-first birthday drew near, he began to feel very
sad at the idea of having to stay shut up in the tower all his life.
Though he was a very brave and very manly young man, he lay down on his
couch and wept in sorrow.

Suddenly, standing with his forepaws on the coverlet, "Why do you weep,
dear master?" said the little dog.

"At my fate," replied the poor Prince. "I cannot bear