THE LITTLE 
 LAME PRINCE 
 

 v 
 
51 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 00022085716 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/littlelameprinceOcrai 
 
Frontispiece — Little Lame Prince 
 
 "it was a bo v a shepheed-boy " 
 
!....<!:- 
 
8 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 in a new-born baby. His nose — there was 
 not mnch of it, certainly, but what there 
 was seemed an aquiline shape; his com- 
 plexion was a charming, healthy purple; 
 he was round and fat, straight-limbed and 
 long — in fact, a splendid baby, and every- 
 body was exceedingly proud of him, espe- 
 cially his father and mother, the King and 
 Queen of Nomansland, who had waited for 
 him during their happy reign of ten years — 
 now made happier than ever, to themselves 
 and their subjects, by the appearance of a 
 son and heir. 
 
 The only person who was not quite happy 
 was the King's brother, the heir-presump- 
 tive, who would have been king one day had 
 the baby not been born. But as his Majesty 
 was very kind to him, and even rather sorry 
 for him — insomuch that at the Queen's re- 
 quest he gave him a dukedom almost as 
 big as a county — the Crown-Prince, as he 
 
10 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 who each had to give him a name, and 
 promise to do their utmost for him. "When 
 he came of age, he himself had to choose 
 the name — and the godfather or godmother 
 — that he liked hest, for the rest of his days. 
 
 Meantime all was rejoicing. Subscrip- 
 tions were made among the rich to give 
 pleasure to the poor : dinners in town-halls 
 for the working-men ; tea-parties in the 
 streets for their wives ; and milk and bun 
 feasts for the children in the school-rooms. 
 For Nomansland, though I can not point it 
 out in any map, or read of it in any history, 
 was, I believe, much like our own or many 
 another country. 
 
 As for the Palace — which was no differ- 
 ent from other palaces — it was clean "turned 
 out of the windows," as people say, with 
 the preparations going on. The only quiet 
 place in it was the room which, though the 
 Prince was six weeks old, his mother the 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 11 
 
 Queen had never quitted. Nobody said 
 she was ill, however — it would have been 
 so inconvenient; and as she said nothing 
 about it herself, but lay pale and placid, 
 giving no trouble to any body, nobody 
 thought much about her. All the world 
 was absorbed in admiring the baby. 
 
 The christening-day came at last, and it 
 was as lovely as the Prince himself. All 
 the people in the Palace were lovely too — 
 or thought themselves so— in the elegant 
 new clothes which the Queen, who thought 
 of every body, had taken care to give them, 
 from the ladies-in-waiting clown to the poor 
 little kitchen-maid, who looked at herself in 
 her pink cotton gown, and thought, doubt- 
 less, that there never was such a pretty girl 
 as she. 
 
 By six in the morning all the royal house- 
 hold had dressed itself in its very best; 
 and then the little Prince was dressed in 
 
 Vr'^ 
 
12 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 his best — his magnificent christening-robe; 
 which proceeding his Royal Highness did 
 not like at all, but kicked and screamed 
 like any common baby. When he had a 
 little calmed down, they carried him to be 
 looked at by the Queen his mother, who, 
 though her royal robes had been brought and 
 laid upon the bed, was, as every body well 
 knew, quite unable to rise and put them on. 
 She admired her baby very much; kissed 
 and blessed him, and lay looking at him, as 
 she did for hours sometimes, when he was 
 placed beside her fast asleep ; then she gave 
 him up with a gentle smile, and, saying she 
 hoped he would be very good, that it would 
 be a very nice christening, and all the 
 guests would enjoy themselves, turned peace- 
 fully over on her bed, saying nothing more 
 to any body. She was a very uncomplain- 
 ing person, the Queen — and her name was 
 Dolorez. 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 13 
 
 
 Every thing went on exactly as if she had 
 been present. All, even the King himself, 
 had grown used to her absence ; for she 
 was not strong, and for years had not joined 
 in any gayeties. She always did her royal 
 duties, but as to pleasures, they could go on 
 quite well without her, or it seemed so. 
 The company arrived: great and notable 
 persons in this and neighboring countries ; 
 also the four-and-twenty godfathers and god- 
 mothers, who had been chosen with care, as 
 the people who would be most useful to his 
 Royal Highness should he ever want friends, 
 which did not seem likely. "What such 
 want could possibly happen to the heir of 
 the powerful monarch of [Nomansland ? 
 
 They came, walking two and two, with 
 their coronets on their heads — being dukes 
 and duchesses, princes and princesses, or 
 the like ; they all kissed the child, and pro- 
 nounced the name which each had given 
 
14 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 him, Then the four-and-twenty names were 
 shouted out with great energy by six her- 
 alds, one after the other, and afterward 
 written down, to be preserved in the state 
 records, in readiness for the next time they 
 were wanted, which would be either on his 
 Royal Highness's coronation or his funeral. 
 Soon the ceremony was over, and every 
 body satisfied; except, perhaps, the little 
 Prince himself, who moaned faintly under 
 his christening robes, which nearly smoth- 
 ered him. 
 
 In truth, though very few knew, the 
 Prince in coming to the chapel had met 
 with a slight disaster. His nurse — not his 
 ordinary one, but the state nurse-maid — an 
 elegant and fashionable young lady of rank, 
 whose duty it was to carry him to and from 
 the chapel, had been so occupied in arrang- 
 ing her train with one hand, while she held 
 the baby with the other, that she stumbled 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 15 
 
 and let him fall, just at the foot of the marble 
 staircase. To be sure, she contrived to 
 pick him up again the next minute ; and 
 the accident was so slight it seemed hardly 
 worth speaking of. Consequently nobody 
 did speak of it. The baby had turned 
 deadly pale, but did not cry, so no person a 
 step or two behind could discover any 
 thing wrong; afterward, even if he had 
 moaned, the silver trumpets were loud 
 enough to drown his voice. It would have 
 been a pity to let any thing trouble such a 
 day of felicity. 
 
 So, after a minute's pause, the procession 
 had moved on. Such a procession ! Her- 
 alds in blue and silver ; pages in crimson 
 and gold ; and a troop of little girls in daz- 
 zling white, carrying baskets of flowers, 
 which they strewed all the way before the 
 nurse and child — finally the four-and-twenty 
 godfathers and godmothers, as proud as 
 
 
16 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 possible, and so splendid to look at that they 
 would have quite extinguished their small 
 godson — merely a heap of lace and muslin 
 with a baby face inside — had it not been 
 for a canopy of white satin and ostrich 
 feathers which was held over him wherever 
 he was carried. 
 
 Thus, with the sun shining on them 
 through the painted windows, they stood; 
 the King and his train on one side, the 
 Prince and his attendants on the other, as 
 pretty a sight as ever was seen out of fairy- 
 land. 
 
 "It's just like fairyland," whispered the 
 eldest little girl to the next eldest, as she 
 shook the last rose out of her basket ; " and 
 I think the only thing the Prince wants 
 now is a fairy godmother." 
 
 " Does he ?" said a shrill but soft and not 
 unpleasant voice behind; and there was 
 seen among the group of children some- 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 17 
 
 body — not a child, yet no bigger than a 
 child — somebody whom nobody had seen 
 before, and who certainly had not been in- 
 vited, for she had no christening clothes on. 
 
 She was a little old woman dressed all in 
 gray : gray gown ; gray hooded cloak, of a 
 material excessively fine, and a tint that 
 seemed perpetually changing, like the gray 
 of an evening sky. Her hair was gray, and 
 her eyes also — even her complexion had a 
 soft gray shadow over it. But there was 
 nothing unpleasantly old about her, and 
 her smile was as sweet and childlike as the 
 Prince's own, which stole over his pale 
 little face the instant she came near enough 
 to touch him. 
 
 "Take care! Don't let the baby fall 
 
 The grand young lady nurse started, 
 flushing angrily. 
 
 "Who spoke to me? How did any 
 
18 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 body know? — I mean, what business has 
 any body — ?" Then, frightened, but still 
 speaking in a much sharper tone than I 
 hope young ladies of rank are in the habit 
 of speaking — " Old woman, you will be 
 kind enough not to say 'the baby,' but ' the 
 Prince.' Keep away; his Royal Highness 
 is just going to sleep." 
 
 "Nevertheless I must kiss him. I am 
 his godmother." 
 
 " You !" cried the elegant lady nurse. 
 
 " You ! !" repeated all the gentlemen and 
 ladies in waiting. 
 
 " You ! ! !" echoed the heralds and pages 
 — and they began to blow the silver trum- 
 pets in order to stop all further conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 The Prince's procession formed itself for 
 returning — the King and his train having 
 already moved off toward the palace — but 
 on the topmost step of the marble stairs 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 19 
 
 stood, right in front of all, the little old 
 woman clothed in gray. 
 
 She stretched herself on tip-toe by the 
 help of her stick, and gave the little Prince 
 three kisses. 
 
 " This is intolerable/' cried the young 
 lady nurse, wiping the kisses off rapidly 
 with her lace handkerchief. " Such an 
 insult to his Royal Highness ! Take your- 
 self out of the way, old woman, or the King 
 shall be informed immediately." 
 
 " The King knows nothing of me, more's 
 the pity," replied the old woman, with an 
 indifferent air, as if she thought the loss 
 was more on his Majesty's side than hers. 
 " My friend in the palace is the King's 
 wife." 
 
 "Kings have not wives, but queens," 
 said the lady nurse, with a contemptuous 
 air. 
 
 " You are right," replied the old woman. 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 "Nevertheless I know her Majesty well, 
 and I love her and her child. And — since 
 you dropped him on the marble stairs (this 
 she said in a mysterious whisper, which 
 made the young lady tremble in spite of 
 her anger) — I choose to take him for my 
 own, and be his godmother, ready to help 
 him whenever he wants me." 
 
 "You help him!" cried all the group, 
 breaking into shouts of laughter, to which 
 the little old woman paid not the slightest 
 attention. Her soft gray eyes were fixed 
 on the Prince, who seemed to answer to 
 the look, smiling again and again in the 
 causeless, aimless fashion that babies do 
 smile. 
 
 "His Majesty must hear of this," said a 
 gentlem an-in-waiting. 
 
 " His Majesty will hear quite enough news 
 in a minute or two," said the old woman, 
 sadly. And again stretching up to the 
 
22 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 Dolor, in memory of your mother Do- 
 lorez." 
 
 " In memory of!" Every body started 
 at the ominous phrase, and also at a most 
 terrible breach of etiquette which the old 
 woman had committed. In Eomansland, 
 neither the king nor the queen were sup- 
 posed to have any Christian name at all. 
 They dropped it on their coronation-day, 
 and it was never mentioned again till it was 
 engraved on their coffins when they died. 
 
 u Old woman, you are exceedingly ill- 
 bred," cried the eldest lady-in-waiting, much 
 horrified. " How you could know the fact 
 passes my comprehension. But even if 
 you did not know it, how dared you pre- 
 sume to hint that her most gracious Majesty 
 is called Dolorez ?" 
 
 " Was called Dolorez," said the old wo- 
 man, with a tender solemnity. 
 
 The first gentleman, called the Gold- 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 23 
 
 stick-in-waiting, raised it to strike her, and 
 all the rest stretched out their hands to 
 seize her ; but the gray mantle melted from 
 between their fingers like air ; and, before 
 any body had time to do any thing more, 
 there came a heavy, muffled, startling 
 sound. 
 
 The great bell of the palace — the bell 
 which was only heard on the death of some 
 one of the Royal family, and for as many 
 times as he or she was years old — began to 
 toll. They listened, mute and horror- 
 stricken. Some one counted: one — two — 
 three — four — up to nine-and-twenty — -just 
 the Queen's age. 
 
 It was, indeed, the Queen. Her Majesty 
 was dead ! In the midst of the festivities 
 she had slipped away, out of her new hap- 
 piness and her old sufferings, not few nor 
 small. Sending away all her women to see 
 the grand sight — at least they said after- 
 
24 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 ward, in excuse, that she had done so, and 
 it was very like her to do it — she had 
 turned with her face to the window, whence 
 one could just see the tops of the distant 
 mountains — the Beautiful Mountains, as 
 they were called — where she was born. 
 So gazing, she had quietly died. 
 
 "When the little Prince was carried back 
 to his mother's room, there was no mother 
 to kiss him. And, though he did not know 
 it, there would be for him no mother's kiss 
 any more. 
 
 As for his godmother — the little old 
 woman in gray who called herself so — 
 whether she melted into air, like her gown 
 when they touched it, or whether she flew 
 out of the chapel window, or slipped through 
 the doorway among the bewildered crowd, 
 nobody knew — nobody ever thought about 
 her. 
 
 Only the nurse, the ordinary homely one, 
 
The Little Lame Prince, 
 
 25 
 
 coming out of the Prince's nursery in the 
 middle of the night in search of a cordial 
 to quiet his continual moans, saw, sitting in 
 the doorway, something which she would 
 have thought a mere shadow, had she not 
 seen shining out of it two eyes, gray and 
 soft and sweet. She put her hand before 
 her own, screaming loudly. "When she 
 took them away, the old woman was gone. 
 
26 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 Every body was very kind to the poor 
 little Prince. I think people generally are 
 kind to motherless children, whether princes 
 or peasants. He had a magnificent nursery, 
 and a regular suite of attendants, and was 
 treated with the greatest respect and state. 
 Nobody was allowed to talk to him in silly 
 baby language, or dandle him, or, above all, 
 to kiss him, though perhaps some people 
 did it surreptitiously, for he was such a 
 sweet baby that it was difficult to help it. 
 
 It could not be said that the Prince missed 
 his mother — children of his age can not do 
 that; but somehow after she died every 
 thing seemed to go wrong with him. From 
 a beautiful baby he became sickly and pale, 
 seeming to have almost ceased growing, 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 27 
 
 especially in his legs, which had been so fat 
 and strong. But after the day of his chris- 
 tening they withered and shrank; he no 
 longer kicked them out either in passion or 
 play, and when, as he got to be nearly a 
 year old, his nurse tried to make him stand 
 upon them, he only tumbled down. 
 
 This happened so many times that at last 
 people began to talk about it. A prince, 
 and not able to stand on his own legs! 
 What a dreadful thing ! what a misfortune 
 for the country ! 
 
 Rather a misfortune to him also, poor 
 little boy ! but nobody seemed to think of 
 that. And when, after a while, his health 
 revived, and the old bright look came back 
 to his sweet little face, and his body grew 
 larger and stronger, though still his legs 
 remained the same, people continued to 
 speak of him in whispers, and with grave 
 shakes of the head. Every body knew, 
 
28 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 though nobody said it, that something, it 
 was impossible to guess what, was not quite 
 right with the poor little Prince. 
 
 Of course, nobody hinted this to the King 
 his father: it does not do to tell great people 
 any thing unpleasant. And besides, his 
 Majesty took very little notice of his son, or 
 of his other affairs, beyond the necessary 
 duties of his kingdom. People had said he 
 would not miss the Queen at all, she having 
 been so long an invalid, but he did. After 
 her death he never was quite the same. 
 He established himself in her empty rooms, 
 the only rooms in the palace whence one 
 could see the Beautiful Mountains, and was 
 often observed looking at them as if he 
 thought she had flown away thither, and 
 that his longing could bring her back again. 
 And by a curious coincidence, which nobody 
 dared inquire into, he desired that the Prince 
 might be called, not by any of the four-and- 
 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 29 
 
 twenty grand names given him by his god- 
 fathers and godmothers, but by the identical 
 name mentioned by the little old woman in 
 gray — Dolor, after his mother Dolorez. 
 
 Once a week, according to established 
 state custom, the Prince, dressed in his 
 very best, was brought to the King his 
 father for half an hour, but his Majesty was 
 generally too ill and too melancholy to pay 
 much heed to the child. 
 
 Only once, when he and the Crown- 
 Prince, who was exceedingly attentive to 
 his royal brother, were sitting together, 
 with Prince Dolor playing in a corner of 
 the room, dragging himself about with his 
 arms rather than his legs, and sometimes 
 trying feebly to crawl from one chair to 
 another, it seemed to strike the father that 
 all was not right with his son. 
 
 "How old is his Royal Highness ?" said 
 he suddenly to the nurse. 
 
 " %■* 
 

 30 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 " Two years, three months, and five days, 
 please your Majesty." 
 
 "It does not please me," said the King, 
 with a sigh. " He ought to be far more for- 
 ward than he is now — ought he not, brother? 
 You, who have so many children, must know. 
 Is there not something wrong about him ?" 
 
 " Oh, no," said the Crown-Prince, ex- 
 changing meaning looks with the nurse, 
 who did not understand at all, but stood 
 frightened and trembling with the tears in 
 her eyes. " Nothing to make your Majesty 
 at all uneasy. ISTo doubt his Koyal High- 
 ness will outgrow it in time." 
 
 " Outgrow — what ?" 
 
 "A slight delicacy — ahem ! — in the spine; 
 something inherited, perhaps, from his dear 
 mother." 
 
 "Ah, she was always delicate; but she 
 was the sweetest woman that ever lived. 
 Come here, my little son." 
 
K 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 31 
 
 And as the Prince turned round upon his 
 father a small, sweet, grave face — so like his 
 mother's — his Majesty the King smiled and 
 held out his arms. But when the hoy 
 came to him, not running like a hoy, hut 
 wriggling awkwardly along the floor, the 
 royal countenance clouded over. 
 
 " I ought to have heen told of this. It is 
 terrible — terrible ! And for a prince, too. 
 Send for all the doctors in my kingdom im- 
 mediately." 
 
 They came, and each gave a different 
 opinion, and ordered a different mode of 
 treatment. The only thing they agreed in 
 was what had heen pretty well known he- 
 fore, that the Prince must have heen hurt 
 when he was an infant — let fall, perhaps, so 
 as to injure his spine and lower limbs. Did 
 nobody remember ? 
 
 No, nobody. Indignantly, all the nurses 
 denied that any such accident had hap- 
 
 
32 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 pened, was possible to have happened, until 
 the faithful country nurse recollected that 
 it really had happened on the day of the 
 christening. For which unluckily good 
 memory all the others scolded her so se- 
 verely that she had no peace of her life, and 
 soon after, by the influence of the young 
 lady nurse who had carried the baby that 
 fatal day, and who was a sort of connection 
 of the Crown-Prince — being his wife's sec- 
 ond cousin once removed — the poor woman 
 was pensioned off, and sent to the Beautiful 
 Mountains, from whence she came, with or- 
 ders to remain there for the rest of her 
 days. 
 
 But of all this the King knew nothing, 
 for, indeed, after the first shock of finding 
 out that his son could not walk, and seemed 
 never likely to walk, he interfered very lit- 
 tle concerning him. The whole thing was 
 too painful, and his Majesty never liked 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 33 
 
 painful things. Sometimes he inquired 
 after Prince Dolor, and they told him his 
 Royal Highness was going on as well as 
 could be expected, which really was the 
 case. For, after worrying the poor child 
 and perplexing themselves with one remedy 
 
 "The doctors came, and each gave a different opinion, 
 and ordered a different mode of treatment." 
 
 after another, the Crown-Prince, not wish- 
 ing to offend any of the differing doctors, 
 had proposed leaving him to Nature; and 
 Nature, the safest doctor of all, had come 
 to his help, and done her best. He could 
 not walk, it is true; his limbs were mere 
 
34 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 useless appendages to his body; but the 
 body itself was strong and sound. And 
 his face was the same as ever — -just his 
 mother's face, one of the sweetest in the 
 world. 
 
 Even the King, indifferent as he was, 
 sometimes looked at the little fellow with 
 sad tenderness, noticing how cleverly he 
 learned to crawl and swing himself about 
 by his arms, so that in his own awkward 
 way he was as actiye in motion as most 
 children of his age. 
 
 " Poor little man ! he does his best, and 
 he is not unhappy — not half so unhappy as 
 I, brother," addressing the Crown-Prince, 
 who was more constant than ever in his at- 
 tendance upon the sick monarch. " If any- 
 thing should befall me, I have appointed 
 you as Regent. In case of my death, you 
 will take care of my poor little boy ?" 
 
 Certainly, certainly ; but do not let us im- 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 35 
 
 
 agine any such misfortune. I assure your 
 Majesty — everybody will assure you — that 
 it is not in the least likely." 
 
 He knew, however, and everybody knew, 
 that it was likely, and soon after it actually 
 did happen. The King died as suddenly 
 and quietly as the Queen had done- — indeed, 
 in her very room and bed ; and Prince Dolor 
 was left without either father or mother — - 
 as sad a thing as could happen, even to a 
 prince. 
 
 He was more than that now, though. He 
 was a king. In JSTomansland, as in other 
 countries, the people were struck with grief 
 one day and revived the next. " The king 
 is dead — long live the king!" was the cry 
 that rang through the nation, and almost 
 before his late Majesty had been laid beside 
 the Queen in their splendid mausoleum, 
 crowds came thronging from all parts to the 
 royal palace, eager to see the new monarch. 
 
36 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 They did see him — the Prince Pegent 
 took care they should — sitting on the floor 
 of the council-chamber, sucking his thumb! 
 And when one of the gentlemen-in-waiting 
 lifted him up and carried him — fancy carry- 
 ing a king ! — -to the chair of state, and put 
 the crown on his head, he shook it off again, 
 it was so heavy and uncomfortable. Sliding 
 down to the foot of the throne, he began 
 playing with the golden lions that supported 
 it, stroking their paws and putting his tiny 
 fingers into their eyes, and laughing — laugh- 
 ing as if he had at last found something to 
 amuse him. 
 
 " There's a fine king for you I" said the 
 first lord-in-waiting, a friend of the Prince 
 Regent's (the Crown-Prince that used to be, 
 who, in the deepest mourning, stood silently 
 beside the throne of his young nephew. 
 He was a handsome man, very grand and 
 l*f-jA clever-looking). " "What a king ! who can 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 37 
 
 never stand to receive his subjects, never 
 walk in processions, who to the last day of 
 his life will have to be carried about like a 
 baby. Very unfortunate !" 
 
 " Sliding down to the foot of the throne, he began play- 
 ing with the golden lions that supported it." 
 
 " Exceedingly unfortunate/' repeated the 
 second lord. " It is always bad for a na- 
 tion when its king is a child ; but such a 
 child — a permanent cripple, if not worse." 
 
 " Let us hope not worse," said the first lord 
 
38 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 in a very hopeless tone, and looking toward 
 the Regent, who stood erect and pretended 
 to hear nothing. " I have heard that these 
 sort of children with very large heads, and 
 great broad foreheads and staring eyes, are 
 — well, well, let us hope for the best and be 
 prepared for the worst. In the mean time — " 
 
 " I swear," said the Crown-Prince, com- 
 ing forward and kissing the hilt of his sword 
 — " I swear to perform my duties as Regent, 
 to take all care of his Royal Highness — 
 his Majesty, I mean," with a grand bow to 
 the little child, who laughed innocently 
 back again. " And I will do my humble 
 best to govern the country. Still, if the 
 country has the slightest objection — " 
 
 But the Crown-Prince being generalissi- 
 mo, and having the whole army at his beck 
 and call, so that he could have begun a civil 
 war in no time, the country had, of course, 
 not the slightest objection. 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 39 
 
 So the King and Queen slept together in 
 peace, and Prince Dolor reigned over the 
 land — that is, his uncle did; and every 
 body said what a fortunate thing it was for 
 the poor little Prince to have such a clever 
 uncle to take care of him. All things went 
 on as usual; indeed, after the Regent had 
 brought his wife and her seven sons, and es- 
 tablished them in the palace, rather better 
 than usual. For they gave such splendid 
 entertainments and made the capital so 
 lively that trade revived, and the country 
 was said to be more nourishing than it had 
 been for a century. 
 
 "Whenever the Regent and his sons ap- 
 peared, they were received with shouts — 
 "Long live the Crown-Prince!" "Long 
 live the Royal family!" And, in truth, 
 they were very fine children, the whole 
 seven of them, and made a great show 
 when they rode out together on seven beau- 
 
40 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 tiful norses, one height above another, down 
 to the youngest, on his tiny black pony, no 
 bigger than a large dog 
 
 As for the other child, his Royal High- 
 ness Prince Dolor — for somehow people 
 soon ceased to call him his Majesty, which 
 seemed such a ridiculous title for a poor 
 little fellow, a helpless cripple, with only 
 head and trunk, and no legs to speak of — 
 he was seen very seldom by any body. 
 
 Sometimes people daring enough to peer 
 over the high wall of the palace garden 
 noticed there, carried in a footman's arms, 
 or drawn in a chair, or left to play on the 
 grass, often with nobody to mind him, a 
 pretty little boy, with a bright, intelligent 
 face and large, melancholy eyes — no, not 
 exactly melancholy, for they were his mo- 
 ther's, and she was by no means sad-minded, 
 but thoughtful and dreamy. They rather 
 perplexed people, those childish eyes ; they 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
42 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 prise — the child never talked much — that 
 every naughty person in the palace was 
 rather afraid of Prince Dolor. 
 
 He could not help it, and perhaps he did 
 not even know it, being no better a child 
 than many other children, but there was 
 something about him which made bad peo- 
 ple sorry, and grumbling people ashamed 
 of themselves, and ill-natured people gentle 
 and kind. I suppose because they were 
 touched to see a poor little fellow who did 
 not in the least know what had befallen him 
 or what lay before him, living his baby 
 life as happy as the day was long. Thus, 
 whether or not he was good himself, the 
 sight of him and his affliction made other 
 people good, and, above all, made every 
 body love him — so much so, that his uncle 
 the Regent began to feel a little uncomfort- 
 able. 
 
 Now I have nothing to say against uncles 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 43 
 
 in general. They are usually very excellent 
 people, and very convenient to little boys 
 and girls. Even the " cruel uncle " of 
 " The Babes in the Wood " I believe to be 
 quite an exceptional character. And this 
 " cruel uncle " of whom I am telling was, I 
 hope, an exception too. 
 
 He did not mean to be cruel. If any 
 body had called him so, he would have re- 
 sented 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 con- 
 sider 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 peo- 
 ple like him very often do. Whether they 
 enjoy it when they have it is another ques- 
 tion. 
 
 Therefore he went one day to the council- 
 
44 
 
 The Little Lame Frince. 
 
 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 Moun- 
 tains. Whether he really meant to do this, 
 or whether it occurred to him afterward 
 that there would be an easier way of attain- 
 ing his great desire, the crown of Nomans- 
 lancl, is a point which I can not 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 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 45 
 
 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 Dole? 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. 
 
46 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 And what of the little lame Prince, whom 
 every body seemed so easily to have for- 
 gotten ? 
 
 Not every body. 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 E"omansland, though few people 
 ever visited them, " Well, perhaps his Royal 
 Highness is better where he is than even 
 there." 
 
 They did not know — indeed, hardly any 
 body did know — that beyond the moun- 
 tains, between them and the sea, lay a tract 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 47 
 
 of country, barren, level, bare,, except for 
 short, stunted grass, and here and there a 
 patch of tiny flowers. Not a bush — not a 
 tree — not a resting-place for bird or beast 
 was in that dreary plain. In summer, the 
 sunshine fell upon it hour after hour with a 
 blinding glare; in winter, the winds and 
 rains swept over it unhindered, and the 
 snow came down steadily, noiselessly, cover- 
 ing it from end to end in one great white 
 sheet, which lay for days and weeks un- 
 marked by a single footprint. 
 
 Not a pleasant place to live in — and no- 
 body did live there, apparently. The only 
 sign that human creatures had ever been 
 near the spot was one large round tower 
 which rose up in the centre of the plain, 
 and might be seen all over it — if there had 
 been any body to see, which there never 
 was. Rc^e right up out of the ground, as 
 if it had grown of itself, like a mushroom. 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 But it was not at all mushroom-like ; on the 
 contrary, it was very solidly built. In form 
 it resembled the Irish round towers, which 
 have puzzled people for so long, nobody be- 
 ing able to find out when, or by whom, or for 
 what purpose they were made; seemingly 
 for no use at all, like this tower. It was 
 circular, of very firm brickwork, with 
 neither doors nor windows, until neai the 
 top, when you could perceive some slits in 
 the wall through which one might possibly 
 creep in or look out. Its height was nearly 
 a hundred feet, and it had a battlemented 
 parapet, showing sharp against the sky. 
 
 As the plain was quite desolate — almost 
 like a desert, only without sand, and led to 
 nowhere except the still more desolate sea- 
 coast — nobody ever crossed it. Whatever 
 mystery there was about the tower, it and 
 the sky and the plain kept their secret to 
 themselves. 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 49 
 
 It was a very great secret indeed — a state 
 secret— which none but so clever a man as 
 the present King of ISTomansland would 
 ever have thought of. How he carried it 
 out, undiscovered, I can not tell. People 
 said, long afterward, that it was by means 
 of a gang of condemned criminals, who 
 were set to work, and executed immediately 
 after they had clone, so that nobody knew 
 anything, or in the least suspected the real 
 fact. 
 
 And what was the fact ? Why, that this 
 tower, which seemed a mere mass of ma- 
 sonry, utterly forsaken and uninhabited, 
 was not so at all. Within twenty feet 
 of the top some ingenious architect had 
 planned a perfect little house, divided into 
 four rooms — as by drawing a cross within a 
 circle you will see might easily be done. 
 By making sky-lights, and a few slits in the 
 walls for windows, and raising a peaked 
 
50 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 roof which was hidden by the parapet, here 
 was a dwelling complete, eighty feet from 
 the ground, and as inaccessible as a rook's 
 nest on the top of a tree. 
 
 A charming place to live in ! if you once 
 got up there, and never wanted to come 
 down again. 
 
 Inside — though nobody could have looked 
 inside except a bird, and hardly even a bird 
 flew past that lonely tower — inside it was 
 furnished with all the comfort and elegance 
 imaginable ; with lots of books and toys, 
 and every thing that the heart of a child 
 could desire. For its only inhabitant, ex- 
 cept a nurse, of course, was a poor solitary 
 child. 
 
 One winter night, when all the plain was 
 wHte with moonlight, there was seen cross- 
 ing it a great tall black horse, ridden by a 
 man also big and equally black, carrying 
 before him on the saddle a woman and a 
 
" Carrying before him a woman and child. 
 
 <tt> 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 53 
 
 child. The woman-— she had a sad, fierce 
 look, and no wonder, for she was a criminal 
 under sentence of death, but her sentence 
 had been changed to almost as severe a 
 punishment. She was to inhabit the lonely 
 tower with the child, and was allowed to 
 live as long as the child lived — no longer. 
 This, in order that she might take the utmost 
 care of him ; for those who put him there 
 were equally afraid of his dying and of his 
 living. And yet he was only a little gentle 
 boy, with a sweet, sleepy smile — he had 
 been very tired with his long journey — and 
 clinging arms, which held tight to the man's 
 neck, for he was rather frightened, and the 
 face, black as it was, looked kindly at him. 
 And he was very helpless, with his poor, 
 small, shriveled legs, which could neither 
 stand nor run away — for the little forlorn 
 boy was Prince Dolor. 
 
 He had not been dead at all — or buried 
 
64 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 ■7&T<L 
 
 $20 
 
 '££k 
 
 either. His grand funeral had been a mere 
 pretense : a wax figure having been put in 
 his place, while he himself was spirited 
 away under charge of these two, the con- 
 demned woman and the black man. The 
 latter was deaf and dumb, so could neither 
 tell nor repeat any thing. 
 
 When they reached the foot of the tower, 
 there was light enough to see a huge chain 
 dangling from the parapet, but dangling 
 only half way. The deaf-mute took from 
 his saddle-wallet a sort of ] adder, arranged 
 in pieces like a puzzle, fitted it together, 
 and lifted it up to meet the chain. Then 
 he mounted to the top of the tower, and 
 slung from it a sort of chair, in which the 
 woman and the child placed themselves and 
 were drawn up, never to come down again 
 as long as they lived. Leaving them there, 
 the man descended the ladder, took it to 
 pieces again and packed it in his pack, 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 55 
 
 j-71 
 
 mounted the horse, and disappeared across 
 the plain. 
 
 Every month they used to watch for him, 
 appearing like a speck in the distance. He 
 fastened his horse to the foot of the tower, 
 and climbed it, as before, laden with pro- 
 
 
 "His grand funeral had been a mere pretense." 
 
 visions and many other things. He always 
 saw the Prince, so as to make sure that the 
 child was alive and well, and then went 
 away until the following month. 
 
 "While his first childhood lasted, Prince 
 Dolor was happy enough. He had every 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 luxury that even a prince could need, and 
 the one thing wanting — love — never having 
 known, he did not mis? His nurse was 
 very kind to him, though she was a wicked 
 woman. But either she had not been quite 
 so wicked as people said, or she grew better 
 through being shut up continually with a 
 little innocent child, who was dependent 
 upon her for every comfort and pleasure of 
 his life. 
 
 It was not an unhappy life. There was 
 nobody to tease or ill-use him, and he was 
 never ill. He played about from room to 
 room — there were four rooms, parlor, 
 kitchen, his nurse's bedroom, and his own ; 
 learned to crawl like a fly, and to jump like 
 a frog, and to run about on all-fours almost 
 as fast as a puppy. In fact, he was very 
 much like a puppy or a kitten, as thought- 
 less and as merry- -scarcely ever cross, 
 though sometimes a little weary. 
 
"He mounted to the top of the tower." 
 
 (67) 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 As he grew older, he occasionally liked to 
 be quiet for a while, and then he would sit 
 at the slits of windows — which were, how- 
 ever, much bigger than they looked from 
 the bottom of the tower — and watch the 
 sky above and the ground below, with the 
 storms sweeping over and the sunshine 
 coming and going, and the shadows of the 
 clouds running races across the blank plain. 
 
 By and by he began to learn lessons — 
 not that his nurse had been ordered to 
 teach him, but she did it partly to amuse 
 herself. She was not a stupid woman, and 
 Prince Dolor was by no means a stupid 
 boy ; so they got on very well, and his con- 
 tinual entreaty, " What can I do ? what can 
 you find me to do ?" was stopped, at least 
 for an hour or two in the day. 
 
 It was a dull life, but he had never known 
 any other; anyhow, he remembered no 
 other, and he did not pity himself at all. 
 
60 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 Not for a long time, till he grew quite a 
 big little boy, and could read quite easily. 
 Then he suddenly took to books, which the 
 deaf-mute brought him from time to time — 
 books which, not being acquainted with the 
 literature of ISTomansland, I can not de- 
 scribe, but no doubt they were very inter- 
 esting; and they informed him of every 
 thing in the outside world, and filled him 
 with an intense longing to see it. 
 
 From this time a change came over the 
 boy. He began to look sad and thin, and 
 to shut himself up for hours without speak- 
 ing. For his nurse hardly spoke, and what- 
 ever questions he asked beyond their ordi- 
 nary daily life she never answered. She 
 had, indeed, been forbidden, on pain of 
 death, to tell him any thing about himself, 
 who he was, or what he might have been. 
 He knew he was Prince Dolor, because she 
 always addressed him as " My Prince," and 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 61 
 
 " Your Royal Highness/' but what a prince 
 was he had not the least idea. He had no 
 idea of any thing in the world, except what 
 he found in his books. 
 
 He sat one day surrounded by them, hav- 
 ing built them up round him like a little 
 castle wall. He had been reading them half 
 the day, but feeling all the while that to 
 read about things which you never can see is 
 like hearing about a beautiful dinner while 
 you are starving. For almost the first time 
 in his life he grew melancholy ; his hands 
 fell on his lap; he sat gazing out of the 
 window-slit upon the view outside — the 
 view he had looked at every day of his life, 
 and might look at for endless days more. 
 
 Not a very cheerful view — -just the plain 
 and the sky — but he liked it. He used to 
 think, if he could only fly out of that win- 
 dow, up to the sky or down to the plain, 
 how nice it would be ! Perhaps when he 
 
 cv** 
 
 b«\ 
 
62 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 died — his nurse had told him once in anger 
 that he would never leave the tower till he 
 died — he might be able to do this. "Not 
 that he understood much what dying 
 meant, but it must be a change, and any 
 change seemed to him a blessing. 
 
 " And I wish I had somebody to tell me 
 all about it — about that and many other 
 things ; somebody that would be fond of me, 
 like my poor white kitten." 
 
 Here the tears came into his eyes, for the 
 boy's one friend, tUe one interest of his life, 
 had been a little white kitten, which the 
 deaf-mute, kLidly smiling, once took out of 
 his pocket and gave him- — the only living 
 creature Prince Dolor had ever seen. For 
 four weeks it was his constant plaything 
 and companion, till one moonlight night it 
 took a fancy for wandering, climbed onto 
 the parapet of the tower, dropped over and 
 disappeared. It was not killed, he hoped, 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 for cats have nine lives; indeed, he al- 
 most fancied he saw it pick itself np and (3Jsfc2 
 scamper away ; but he never caught sight of 
 [sm7S$ ^ more. 
 
 " Oh, I want somebody — dreadfully, dreadfully I" 
 
 " Yes, I wish I had something better than 
 a kitten — a person, a real live person, who 
 would be fond of me and kind to me. Oh, 
 \n I want somebody — dreadfully, dreadfully !" 
 
 As he spoke, there sounded behind him |KJj 
 
64 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 a slight tap-tap-tap, as of a stick or a cane, 
 and twisting himself round, he saw — what 
 do you think he saw ? 
 
 Nothing either frightening or ugly, but 
 still exceedingly curious. A little woman, 
 no bigger than he might nimself have been 
 had his legs grown like those of other chil- 
 dren ; but she was not a child — she was an 
 old woman. Her hair was gray, and her 
 dress was gray, and there was a gray shadow 
 over her wherever she moved. But she 
 had the sweetest smile, the prettiest hands, 
 and when she spoke it was in the softest 
 voice imaginable. 
 
 " My dear little boy" — and dropping her 
 cane, the only bright and rich thing about 
 her, she laid those two tiny hands on his 
 shoulders — " my own little boy, I could not 
 come to you until you had said you wanted 
 me ; but now you do want me, here I am." 
 
 " And you are very welcome, madam," 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 65 
 
 replied the Prince, trying to speak politely, 
 
 as princes always did in books ; " and I am 
 
 exceedingly obliged to you. May I ask 
 
 $L who you are ? Perhaps my mother V For ^\ 
 
 Dropping her cane, she laid those two tiny hands on 
 his shoulders." 
 
 he knew that little boys usually had a mo- 
 ^£2$ ther, and had occasionally wondered what 
 
 had become of his own. 
 YM "No," said the visitor, with a tender, I^Jj 
 
66 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 half-sad smile, putting back the hair from 
 his forehead, and looking right into his 
 eyes — " No, I am not your mother, though 
 she was a dear friend of mine ; and you are 
 as like her as ever you ca,.: be." 
 
 " Will you tell her to come and see me, 
 then?" 
 
 " She can not; but I dare say she knows 
 about you. And she loves you very much 
 — and so do I ; and I want to help you all I 
 can, my poor little boy." 
 
 "Why do you call me poor?" asked 
 Prince Dolor, in surprise. 
 
 The little old woman glanced down on 
 his legs and feet, which he did not know 
 were different from those of other children, 
 and then at his sweet, bright face, which, 
 though he knew not that either, was ex- 
 ceedingly different from many children's 
 faces, which are often so fretful, cross, sul- 
 len. Looking at him, instead of sighing, 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 67 
 
 she smiled. " T beg your pardon, my 
 Prince," said she. 
 
 " Yes, I am a prince, and my name is 
 Dolor ; will you tell me yours, madam ?" 
 
 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 les- 
 
68 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 sons 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, which I can not give you. 
 My child, I can not 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 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 69 
 
 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 be- 
 hind 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. Some- 
 times nurse hoists me onto 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-*. Wk — " 
 
 " Hush ! — she's coming." 
 
70 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 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 i 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 wish for me, and I come." 
 
 " Thank you," said Prince Dolor, but 
 almost in a whisper, for he was very uneasy 
 at what might happen next. His nurse and 
 his godmother — what would they say to one 
 another ? how would they look at one an- 
 other ? — two such different faces : one harsh- 
 lined, sullen, cross, and sad ; the other 
 sweet and bright and calm as a summer 
 evening before the dark begins. 
 
The Little Lame Prince, 
 
 71 
 
 When the door was flung open, Prince 
 Dolor shut his eyes, trembling all over; 
 opening them again, he saw he need fear 
 nothing — his lovely old godmother had 
 
 "'What a muddle your Koyal Highness is sitting in,' 
 said she, sharply." 
 
 melted away just like the rainbow out of 
 
 7^ the sky, as he had watched it many a time. 
 
 $ Nobody but his nurse was in the room. 
 
 "What a muddle your Royal Highness 
 
 /W is sitting in," said she, sharply. " Such a 
 nJWt 5 
 
72 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 heap of untidy books ; and what's this rub- 
 bish ?" knocking a little bundle that lay 
 beside them. 
 
 " Oh, nothing, nothing — give it me !'* 
 cried the Prince, and, darting after it, he 
 hid it under his pinafore, and then pushed 
 it quickly into his pocket* Rubbish a& it 
 was, it was left in the place where she sat, 
 and might be something belonging to her — 
 his dear, kind godmother, whom already he 
 loved with all his lonely, tender, passionate 
 heart. 
 
 It was, though he did not know this, his 
 wonderful traveling-cloak. 
 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 73 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 And what of the traveling-cloak ? What 
 sort of cloak was it, and what good did it do 
 the Prince ? 
 
 Stay, and I'll tell you all about it. 
 
 Outside it was the commonest-looking 
 bundle imaginable — shabby and small; and 
 the instant Prince Dolor touched it, it grew 
 smaller still, dwindling down till he could 
 put it in his trousers pocket, like a hand- 
 kerchief rolled up into a ball. He did this 
 at once, for fear his nurse should see it, ar*d 
 kept it there all day — all night, too, Till 
 after his next morning's lessons he had no 
 opportunity of examining his treasure. 
 
 When he did, it seemed no treasure at 
 all; but a mere piece of cloth —circular in 
 form, dark green in color — that is, if it had 
 
74 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 any color at all, being so worn and shabby, 
 though not dirty. It had a split cut to the 
 centre, forming a round hole for the neck — 
 and that was all its shape; the shape, in 
 fact, of those cloaks which in South Amer- 
 ica are called ponchos — very simple, but 
 most graceful and convenient. 
 
 Prince Dolor had never seen any thing 
 like it. In spite of his disappointment, he 
 examined it curiously ; spread it out on the 
 floor, then arranged it on his shoulders. It 
 felt very warm and comfortable; but it was so 
 exceedingly shabby — the only shabby thing 
 that the Prince had ever seen in his life. 
 
 " And what use will it be to me T said 
 he, sadly. " I have no need of outdoor 
 clothes, as I never go out. Why was this 
 given me, I wonder ? and what in the world 
 am I to do with it ? She must be a rather 
 
 funny 
 mine.' 
 
 person, this dear godmother of 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 75 
 
 Nevertheless, because she was his god- 
 mother, and had given him the cloak, he 
 folded it carefully and put it away, poor 
 and shabby as it was, hiding it in a safe cor- 
 ner of his toy-cupboarcl, which his nurse 
 never meddled with. He did not want her to 
 find it, or to laugh at it or at his godmother 
 — as he felt sure she would if she knew all. 
 
 There it lay, and by and by he forgot all 
 about it ; nay, I am sorry to say that, being 
 but a child, and not seeing her again, he 
 almost forgot his sweet old godmother, or 
 thought of her only as he did of the angels 
 or fairies that he read of in his books, and 
 of her visit as if it had been a mere dream 
 of the night. 
 
 There were times, certainly, when he re- 
 called her: of early mornings, like that 
 morning when she appeared beside him, 
 and late evenings, when the gray twilight 
 reminded him of the color of her hair and 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 her pretty soft garments ; above all, when, 
 waking in the middle of the night, with the 
 stars peering in at his window, or the 
 moonlight shining across his little bed, he 
 would not have been surprised to see her 
 standing beside it, looking at him with 
 those beautiful tender eyes, which seemed 
 to have a pleasantness and comfort in them 
 different from any thing he had ever 
 known. 
 
 But she never came, and gradually she 
 slipped out of his memory — only a boy's 
 memory, after all; until something hap- 
 pened which made him remember her, and 
 want her as he had never wanted any thing 
 before. 
 
 Prince Dolor fell ill. He caught — his 
 nurse could not tell how — a complaint com- 
 mon to the people of Eomansland, called 
 the doldrums, as unpleasant as measles or 
 any other of our complaints ; and it made 
 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 77 
 
 him restless, cross, and disagreeable. Even 
 when a little better, he was too weak to en- 
 joy any thing, but lay all day long on his 
 sofa, fidgeting his nurse extremely — while, 
 in her intense terror lest he might die, she 
 fidgeted him still more. At last, seeing he 
 really was getting well, she left him to him- 
 self — which he was most glad of, in spite 
 of his dullness and dreariness. There he 
 lay, alone, quite alone. 
 
 ]N"ow and then an irritable fit came over 
 him, in which he longed to get up and do 
 something, or go somewhere — would have 
 liked to imitate his white kitten — -jump 
 down from the tower and run away, taking 
 the chance of whatever might happen. 
 
 Only one thing, alas! was likely to 
 happen ; for the kitten, he remembered, 
 had four active legs, while he — 
 
 " I wonder what my godmother meant 
 when she looked at my legs and sighed so 
 
78 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 bitterly ? I wonder why I can't walk straight 
 and steady like my nurse — only I wouldn't 
 like to have her great, noisy, clumping 
 shoes. Still it would he very nice to move 
 about quickly — perhaps to fly, like a bird, 
 like that string of birds I saw the other day 
 skimming across the sky, one after the 
 other." 
 
 These were the passage-birds — the only 
 living creatures that ever crossed the lonely 
 plain ; and he had been much interested in 
 
 them , * wondering whence 
 
 they came and 
 
 whither they were going. 
 
 " How nice it must be to be a bird ! If 
 legs are no good, why can not one have 
 wings ? People have wings when they die 
 — perhaps ; I wish I were dead, that I do. 
 I am so tired, so tired ; and nobody cares 
 for me. ISTobody ever did care for me, ex- 
 cept perhaps my godmother. Godmother, 
 dear, have you quite forsaken me ?" 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 79 
 
 He stretched himself wearily, gathered 
 himself up, and dropped his head upon his 
 hands ; as he did so, he felt somebody kiss 
 him at the back of his neck, and, turning, 
 found that he was resting, not on the sofa- 
 pillows, but on a warm shoulder — that of 
 the little old woman clothed in gray. 
 
 How glad he was to see her ! How he 
 looked into her kind eyes and felt her hands, 
 to see if she were all real and alive ! then put 
 both his arms round her neck, and kissed 
 her as if he would never have done kissing*. 
 
 " Stop, stop I" cried she, pretending to be 
 smothered. " I see you have not forgotten 
 my teachings. Kissing is a good thing — in 
 moderation. Only just let me have breath 
 to speak one word." 
 
 " A dozen !" he said. 
 
 " "Well, then, tell me all that has happened 
 to you since I saw you — or, rather, since you 
 saw me, which is quite a different thing." 
 
80 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 "Nothing has happened — nothing ever 
 does happen to me," answered the Prince, 
 dolefully. 
 
 " And are you very dull, my boy ?" 
 
 " So dull that I was just thinking whether 
 I could not jump down to the bottom of the 
 tower, like my white kitten." 
 
 " Don't do that, not being a white kitten." 
 
 " I wish I were ! — I wish I were any thing 
 but what I am." 
 
 " And you can't make yourself any differ- 
 ent, nor can I do it either. You must be 
 content to stay just what you are." 
 
 The little old woman said this — -very 
 firmly, but gently, too — with her arms round 
 his neck and her lips on his forehead. It 
 was the first time the boy had ever heard 
 any one talk like this, and he looked up in 
 surprise — but not in pain, for her sweet 
 manner softened the hardness of her words. 
 
 " !Now, my Prince — for you are a prince, 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 81 
 
 and must behave as such— let us see what 
 we can do ; how much I can do for you, or 
 show you how to do for yourself. Where is 
 your traveling-cloak ?" 
 
 Prince Dolor blushed extremely. " I — I 
 put it away in the cupboard ; I suppose it is 
 there still." 
 
 " You have never used it ; you dislike 
 it?" 
 
 He hesitated, not wishing to be impolite. 
 (i Don't you ^hink it's — -just a little old and 
 shabby for a prince V 
 
 The old woman laughed — long and loud, 
 though very sweetly. 
 
 " Prince, indeed ! Why, if all the princes 
 in the world craved for it, they couldn't get 
 it, unless I gave it them. Old and shabby J 
 It's the most valuable thing imaginable! 
 Very few ever have it; but I thought I 
 would give it to you, because — because you 
 are different from other people." 
 
82 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 m 
 
 " Am I V said the Prince, and looked 
 first with curiosity, then with a sort of 
 anxiety, into his godmother's face, which 
 was sad and grave, with slow tears begin- 
 ning to steal down. 
 
 She touched his poor little legs. " These 
 are not like those of other little boys." 
 
 " Indeed ! — my nurse never told me that." 
 
 "Very likely not. But it is time you 
 were told ; and I tell you, because I love 
 
 you." 
 
 " Tell me what, dear godmother ?" 
 " That you will never be able to walk or 
 run or jump or play — that your life will be 
 quite different to most people's lives ; but it 
 may be a very happy life for all that. Do 
 not be afraid." 
 
 "I am not afraid," said the boy; but he 
 turned very pale, and his lips began to 
 quiver, though he did not actually cry — he 
 was too old for that, and, perhaps, too proud. 
 
B 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 83 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 Though not wholly comprehending, he 
 began dimly to guess what his godmother 
 meant. He had never seen any real live 
 boys, but he had seen pictures of them run- 
 ning and jumping; which he had admired 
 and tried hard to imitate, but always failed. 
 Now he began to understand why he failed, 
 and that he always should fail — that, in 
 fact, he was not like other little boys ; and 
 it was of no use his wishing to do as they 
 did, and play as they played, even if he had 
 them to play with. His was a separate life, 
 in which he must find out new work and 
 new pleasures for himself. 
 
 The sense of the inevitable, as grown-up 
 people call it — that we can not have things 
 as we want them to be, but as they are, and 
 that we must learn to bear them and make 
 the best of them — this lesson, which every 
 body has to learn soon or late — came, alas ! 
 sadly soon, to the poor boy. He fought 
 
The Little Lame Prince 
 
 against it for a while, and then, quite over- 
 come, turned and sobbed bitterly in his 
 godmother's arms. 
 
 She comforted him — I do not know how> 
 except that love always comforts; and then 
 she whispered to him, in her sweet, strong, 
 cheerful voice — " Never mind !" 
 
 "No. I don't think I do mind — that is, I 
 wonH mind," replied he, catching the courage 
 of her tone and speaking like a man, though 
 he was still such a mere boy. 
 
 " That is right, my Prince ! — that is being 
 like a prince. N"ow we know exactly where 
 we are; let us put our shoulders to the 
 wheel and — " 
 
 " We are in Hopeless Tower" (this was 
 its name, if it had a name), " and there is 
 no wheel to put our shoulders to," said the 
 child, sadly. 
 
 You little matter-of-fact 
 
 e;oose 
 
 Well 
 
 for you that you have a godmother called- 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 85 
 
 " What ?" he eagerly asked. 
 
 " Stuff-and-nonsense." 
 
 " Stuff-and-nonsense ! "What a funny 
 name !" 
 
 " 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 I 
 have love me dearly, and find me the great- 
 est blessing in all the world." 
 
 "I can well believe it," cried the little 
 lame Prince, and forgot his troubles in look- 
 ing 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. 
 
88 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 **! 
 
 He could have looked at her forever 
 — half in love, half in awe ; but she sud- 
 denly 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 sky-light— mind, I say open the sky-light 
 —-set yourself down in the middle of it, like 
 a frog on a water-lily leaf; say i Abraca- 
 dabra, dum dum dum,' and — see what will 
 happen V 9 
 
 The Prince burst into a fit of laughing. 
 It all seemed so exceedingly silly ; he won- 
 dered that a wise old woman like his god- 
 mother should talk such nonsense. 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 87 
 
 " 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 childlike 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, 
 dam dum dum ; when you want to come back 
 again, say Abracadabra, turn turn ti. That's 
 all; good-by." 
 
 A puff of pleasant air passing by him, and 
 making him feel for the moment quite 
 strong and well, was all the Prince was con- 
 scious of. His most extraordinary god- 
 mother was gone. 
 
 

 88 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 tp$ 
 
 ft 
 
 K 
 
 @ 
 
 '3il» 
 
 W 
 
 ggs. 
 
 
 " Really now, how rosy your Royal High- 
 ness's cheeks have grown ! You seem to 
 have got well already," said the nurse, en- 
 tering 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, tak- 
 ing 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, not graceful, hut con- 
 venient, he 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 
 
The Little Lame Prince, 
 
 89 
 
 ^v 
 
 putting things to rights, had made a grand 
 •clearance of all his " rubbish " — as she con- 
 sidered 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, 
 locking 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 asrain. I 
 
90 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 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 any body 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. 
 
92 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 If any reader, big or little, should wonder 
 whether there is a meaning in this story 
 deeper than that of an ordinary fairy tale, I 
 will own that there is. But I have hidden 
 it so carefully that the smaller people, and 
 many larger folk, will never find it out, and 
 meantime the book may be read straight 
 on, like " Cinderella," or " Blue-Beard," or 
 " Hop-o'-my Thumb," for what interest it 
 has, or what amusement it may bring. 
 
 Having said this, I return to Prince Dolor, 
 that little lame boy whom many may think 
 so exceedingly to be pitied. But if you had 
 seen him as he sat patiently untying his 
 wonderful cloak, which was done up in a 
 very tight and perplexing parcel, using 
 skillfully his deft liftle hands, and knitting 
 
<<^7 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 93 
 
 "his brows with firm determination, while 
 his eyes glistened with pleasure and energy 
 and eager anticipation — if you had beheld 
 him thus, you might have changed your 
 opinion. 
 
 When we see people suffering or unfor- 
 tunate, we feel very sorry for them; but 
 when we see them bravely bearing their 
 sufferings, and making the best of their mis- 
 fortunes, it is quite a different feeling. "We 
 respect, we admire them. One can respect 
 and admire even a little child. 
 
 "When Prince Dolor had patiently untied 
 all the knots, a remarkable thing happened. 
 The cloak began to undo itself. Slowly un- 
 folding, it laid itself down on the carpet, as 
 flat as if it had been ironed ; the split joined 
 with a little sharp crick-crack, and the rim 
 turned up all round till it was breast-high ; 
 for meantime the cloak had grown and 
 grown, and become quite large enough for 
 
,v^7 
 
 94 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 tit 
 
 Mm 
 
 LI? 
 
 
 B 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 ■ 
 
 one person to sit in it as comfortable as if 
 in a boat. 
 
 The Prince matched it rather anxiously; 
 it was such an extraordinary, not to say a 
 frightening thing. However, he was no 
 coward, but a thorough boy, who, if he had 
 been like other boys, would doubtless have 
 grown up daring and adventurous — a sol- 
 dier, a sailor, or the like. As it was, he 
 could only show his courage morally, not 
 physically, by being afraid of nothing, and 
 by doing boldly all that it was in his narrow 
 powers to do. And I am not sure but that 
 in this way he showed more real valor than 
 if he had had six pairs of proper legs. 
 
 He said to himself, "What a goose I 
 am ! As if my dear godmother would ever 
 have given me anything to hurt me. Here 
 goes!" 
 
 So, with one of his active leaps, he sprang 
 right into the middle of the cloak, where he 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 95 
 
 lA 
 
 squatted down, wrapping his arms tight 
 round his knees, for they shook a little and 
 his heart beat fast. But there he sat, steady 
 and silent, waiting for what might happen 
 next. 
 
 Nothing did happen, and he began to 
 think nothing would, and to feel rather dis- 
 appointed, when he recollected the words 
 he had been told to repeat — "Abracadabra, 
 dum dum dum !" 
 
 He repeated them, laughing all the while, 
 they seemed such nonsense. And then — 
 and then — 
 
 Now I don't expect any body to believe 
 what I am going to relate, though a good 
 many wise people have believed a good 
 many sillier things. And as seeing's believ- 
 ing, and I never saw it, I can not be ex- 
 pected implicitly to believe it myself, except 
 in a sort of a way; and yet there is truth in 
 it — for some people. 
 
w 
 
 96 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 The cloak rose, slowly and steadily, at 
 first only a few inches, then gradually higher 
 and higher, till it nearly touched the sky- 
 light. Prince Dolor's head actually bumped 
 against the glass, or would have done so 
 had he not crouched down, crying, "Oh, 
 please don't hurt me!" in a most melancholy 
 voice. 
 
 Then he suddenly remembered his god- 
 mother's express command — " Open the sky- 
 light!" 
 
 Regaining his courage at once, without a 
 moment's delay he lifted up his head and 
 began searching for the bolt — the cloak 
 meanwhile remaining perfectly still, bal- 
 anced in the air. But the minute the win- 
 dow was opened, out it sailed — right out into 
 the clear, fresh air, with nothing between 
 it and the cloudless blue. 
 
 Prince Dolor had never felt any such 
 delicious sensation before. I can under- 
 
" The cloak rose slowly and steadily 
 
 (97) 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 99 
 
 stand it. Can not you? Did you never 
 think, in watching the rooks going home 
 singly or in pairs, oaring their way across 
 the calm evening sky till they vanish like 
 black dots in the misty gray, how pleasant 
 it must feel to be up there, quite out of the 
 noise and din of the world, able to hear and 
 see every thing down below, yet troubled 
 by nothing and teased by no one — all alone, 
 bur perfectly content ? 
 
 Something like this was the happiness of 
 the little lame Prince when he got out of 
 Hopeless Tower, and found himself for the 
 first time in the pure open air, with the sky 
 above him and the earth below. 
 
 True, there was nothing but earth and 
 sky; no houses, no trees, no rivers, moun- 
 tains, seas — not a beast on the ground, or a 
 bird in the air. But to him even the level 
 plain looked beautiful ; and then there was 
 the glorious arch of the sky, with a little 
 
100 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 
 young moon sitting in the west like a baby 
 queen. And the evening breeze was so 
 sweet and fresh — it kissed him like his god- 
 mother's kisses ; and by and by a few stars 
 came out — first two or three, and then quan- 
 tities — quantities! so that when he began 
 to count them he was utterly bewildered. 
 
 By this time, however, the cool breeze 
 had become cold ; the mist gathered ; and 
 as he had, as he said, no outdoor clothes, 
 poor Prince Dolor was not very comfortable. 
 The dews fell damp on his curls — he began 
 to shiver. 
 
 " Perhaps I had better go home," thought 
 he. 
 
 But how ? For in his excitement the 
 other words which his godmother had told 
 him to use had slipped his memory. They 
 were only a little different from the first, 
 but in that slight difference all the impor- 
 tance lay. As he repeated his " Abraca- 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 101 
 
 if 
 
 fa 
 
 dabra," trying ever so many other syllables 
 after it, the cloak only went faster and faster, 
 skimming on through the dusky, empty air. 
 
 The poor little Prince began to feel 
 frightened. What if this wonderful travel- 
 ing-cloak should keep on thus traveling, 
 perhaps to the world's end, carrying with it 
 a poor, tired, hungry boy, who, after all, 
 was beginning to think there was something 
 very pleasant in supper and bed ? 
 
 " Dear godmother," he cried pitifully, 
 " do help me ! Tell me just thia once and 
 I'll never forget again." 
 
 Instantly the words came rushing into 
 his head— " Abracadabra, turn turn ti !" 
 Was that it? Ah! yes — for the cloak be- 
 gan to turn slowly. He repeated the charm 
 again, more distinctly and firmly, when it 
 gave a gentle dip, like a nod of satisfaction, 
 and immediately started back, as fast as 
 ever, in the direction of the tower. 
 
102 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 He reached the sky-light, which he found 
 exactly as he had left it, and slipped in, 
 cloak and all, as easily as he had got out. 
 He had scarcely reached the floor, and 
 was still sitting in the middle of his travel- 
 ing-cloak — like a frog on a water-lily leaf, as 
 his godmother had expressed it — when he 
 heard his nurse's voice outside. 
 
 "Bless us! what has become of your 
 Royal Highness all this time ? To sit stu- 
 pidly here at the window till it is quite 
 dark, and leave the sky-light open, too. 
 Prince ! what can you be thinking of.* 
 You are the silliest boy I ever knew." 
 
 44 Am I?" said he, absently, and nevei 
 heeding her crossness ; for his only anxiety 
 was lest she might find out any thing. 
 
 She would have been a very clev per- 
 son to have done so. The instant Prince 
 Dolor got off it, the cloak folded itself up 
 into the tiniest possible parcel, tied all its 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 103 
 
 own knots, and rolled itself of its own ac- 
 cord into the farthest and darkest corner of 
 the room. If the nurse had seen it, which 
 she didn't, she would have taken it for a 
 mere bundle of rubbish not worth noticing. 
 
 Shutting the sky-light with an angry 
 bang, she brought in the supper and lit the 
 candles with her usual unhappy expression 
 of countenance. But Prince Dolor hardly 
 saw it ; he only saw, hid in the corner where 
 nobody else could see it, his wonderful 
 traveling-cloak. And though his supper 
 was not particularly ni ,e, he ate it heartily, 
 scarcely hearing a word of his nurse's 
 grumbling, which to-night seemed to have 
 taken the place of her sullen silence. 
 
 "Poor woman!" he thought, when he 
 paused a minute to listen and look at her 
 with those quiet, happy eyes, so like his 
 mother's. " Poor woman ! she hasn't got a 
 traveling-cloak!" 
 
r 
 
 104 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 And when he was left alone at last, and 
 crept into his little bed, where he lay awake 
 a good while, watching what he called his 
 " sky-garde. " all planted with stars, like 
 flowers, his chief thought was — " I must 
 be up very early to-morrow morning, and 
 get my lessons done, and then I'll go 
 traveling all over the world on my beautiful 
 cloak." 
 
 So next day he opened his eyes with the 
 sun, and went with a good heart to his les- 
 sons. They had hitherto been the chief 
 amusement of his dull life; now, I am 
 afraid, he found them also a little dull. 
 But he tried to be good — I don't say Prince 
 Dolor always was good, but he generally 
 tried to be — and when his mind went wan- 
 dering after the dark, dusty corner where 
 lay his precious treasure he resolutely called 
 it back again. 
 
 " For," he said, " how ashamed my god- 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 105 
 
 mother would be of me if I grew up a stupid 
 boy." 
 
 But the instant lessons were done, and 
 he was alone in the empty room, he crept 
 across the floor, undid the shabby little 
 bundle, his fingers trembling with eager- 
 ness, climbed on the chair, and thence to 
 the table, so as to unbar the sky-light — he 
 forgot nothing now — said his magic charm, 
 and was away out of the window, as chil- 
 dren say, " in a few minutes less than no 
 time." 
 
 Nobody missed him. He was accustomed 
 to sit so quietly always that his nurse, though 
 only in the next room, perceived no differ- 
 ence. And besides, she might have gone 
 in and out a dozen times, and it would have 
 been just the same; she never could have 
 found out his absence. 
 
 For what do you think the clever god- 
 mother did ? She took a quantity of moon- 
 
106 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 shine, or some equally convenient material, 
 and made an image, which she set on the 
 window-sill reading, or by the table draw- 
 ing, where it looked so like Prince Dolor 
 that any common observer would never 
 have guessed the deception; and even the 
 boy would have been puzzled to know 
 which was the image and which was him- 
 self. 
 
 And all this while the happy little fellow 
 was away, floating in the air on his magic 
 cloak, and seeing all sorts of wonderful 
 things — or they seemed wonderful to him, 
 who had hitherto seen nothing at all. 
 
 First, there were the flowers that grew 
 on the plain, which, whenever the cloak 
 came near enough, he strained his eyes to 
 look at; they were very tiny, but very beau- 
 tiful — white saxifrage, and yellow lotus, 
 and ground-thistles, purple and bright, with 
 many others the names of which I do not 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 107 
 
 know. "No more did Prince Dolor, though 
 he tried to find them out by recalling any 
 pictures he had seen of tb^m. But he was 
 too far off; and though it was pleasant 
 enough to admire them as brilliant patches 
 of color, still he would have liked to examine 
 them all. He wap, us a little girl I know once 
 said of a playfellow, " a very examining boy." 
 
 "I wonder.'* he thought, "whether I 
 could see better through a pair of glasses 
 like Hiose my nurse reads with, and takes 
 such care of. How I would tske care of 
 them, too, if I only had a pair!" 
 
 Immediately he felt something queer and 
 hard fixing itself to the bridge of his nose. 
 It was a pair of the prettiest gold spectacles 
 ever seen; and looking downward, he 
 found that, though ever so high above the 
 ground, he could see every minute blade of 
 grass, every tiny bud and flower — nay, even 
 the insects that walked over them. 
 
108 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 " Thank you, thank yon!" he cried, in a 
 gush of gratitude — to any body or every 
 body, but especially to his dear godmother, 
 whom he felt sure had given him this new 
 present. He amused himself with it for 
 ever so long, with his chin pressed on the 
 rim of the cloak, gazing down upon the 
 grass, every square foot of which was a mine 
 of wonders. 
 
 Then, just to rest his eyes, he turned 
 them up to the sky — the blue, bright, empty 
 sky, which he had looked at so often and 
 seen nothing. 
 
 JSTow surely there was something. A 
 long, black, wavy line, moving on in the 
 distance, not by chance, as the clouds move 
 apparently, but deliberately, as if it were 
 alive. He might have seen it before — he 
 almost thought he had; but then he could 
 not tell what it was. Looking at it through 
 his spectacles, he discovered that it really 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 109 
 
 was alive ; being a long string of birds, fly- 
 ing one after the other, their wings moving 
 *"-* steadily and their heads pointed in one di- 
 
 "He felt something queer and hard fixing itself to the 
 bridge of his nose." 
 
 rection, as steadily as if each were a little 
 
 j-jjj^ ship, guided invisibly by an unerring helm. 
 
 " They must be the passage-birds flying 
 
 seaward!" cried the boy, who had read a 
 
 
110 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 little about them, and had a great talent for 
 putting two and two together and finding 
 out all he could. " Oh, how I should like 
 to see them quite close, and to know where 
 they come from, and whither they are going! 
 How I wish I knew every thing in all the 
 world!" 
 
 A silly speech for even an " examining " 
 little boy to make; because, as we grow 
 older, the more we know the more w T e find 
 out there is to know. And Prince Dolor 
 blushed when he had said it, and hoped 
 nobody had heard him. 
 
 Apparently somebody had, however ; for 
 the cloak gave a sudden bound forward, and 
 presently he found himself high up in air, 
 in the very middle of that band of aerial 
 travelers, who had no magic cloak to travel 
 on — nothing except their wings. Yet there 
 they were, making their fearless way through, 
 the sky. 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Prince Dolor looked at them, as one after 
 the other they glided past him; and they 
 looked at him— those pretty swallows, with 
 their changing necks and bright eyes — as 
 if wondering to meet in mid-air such an 
 extraordinary sort of bird. 
 
 " Oh, I wish I were going with you, you 
 lovely creatures !" cried the boy. " I'm 
 getting so tired of this dull plain, and the 
 dreary and lonely tower. I do so want to 
 see the world ! Pretty swallows, dear swal- 
 lows ! tell me what it looks like — the beauti- 
 ful, wonderful world!" 
 
 But the swallows flew past him — steadily, 
 slowly, pursuing their course as if inside 
 each little head had been a mariner's com- 
 pass, to guide them safe over land and sea, 
 direct to the place where they desired to go. 
 
 The boy looked after them with envy. 
 For a long time he followed with his eyes 
 the faint, wavy, black line as it floated away, 
 
112 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 sometimes changing its curves a little, but 
 never deviating from its settled course, till 
 it vanished entirely out of sight. 
 
 Then he settled himself down in the 
 centre c f the cloak, feeling quite sad and 
 lonely. 
 
 "I think I'll go home," said he, and 
 repeated his " Abracadabra, turn turn ti!" 
 with a rather heavy heart. The more he 
 had, the more he wanted ; and it is not 
 always one can have every thing one wants 
 — at least, at the exact minute one craves 
 for it; not even though one is a prince, and 
 has a powerful and beneficent godmother. 
 
 He did not like to vex her by calling for 
 her and telling her how unhappy he was, 
 in spite of all her goodness ; so he just kept 
 his trouble to himself, went, back to his 
 lonely tower, and spent three days in silent 
 melancholy, without even attempting another 
 journey on his traveling-cloak. 
 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 113 
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 The fourth day it happened that the deaf- 
 mute paid his accustomed visit, after which 
 Prince Dolor's spirits rose. They always 
 did when he got the new books which, just to 
 relieve his conscience, the King of Romans- 
 land regularly sent to his nephew; with 
 many new toys also, though the latter were 
 disregarded now. 
 
 " Toys, indeed ! when I'm a big boy," 
 said the Prince, with disdain, and would 
 scarcely condescend to mount a rocking- 
 horse which had come, somehow or other — 
 I can't be expected to explain things very 
 exactly — packed on the back of the other, 
 the great black horse, which stood and fed 
 contentedly at the bottom of the tower. 
 
 Prince Dolor leaned over and looked 
 
114 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 at it, and thought how grand it must be to 
 get upon its back — this grand live steed — 
 and ride away, like the pictures of knights. 
 
 " Suppose I was a knight," he said to 
 himself; " then I should be obliged to ride 
 out and see the world." 
 
 But he kept all these thoughts to him- 
 self, and just sat still, devouring his new 
 books till he had come to the end of them 
 all. It was a repast not unlike the Barme- 
 cide's feast which you read of in the " Ara- 
 bian Nights," which consisted of very elegant 
 but empty dishes, or that supper of Sancho 
 Panza in " Don Quixote," where, the minute 
 the smoking dishes came on the table, the 
 physician waved his hand and they were ail 
 taken away. 
 
 Thus almost all the ordinary delights of 
 boy-life had been taken away from, or rather 
 never given to, this poor little Prince. 
 
 " I wonder," he would sometimes think — 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 115 
 
 " I wonder what it feels like to be on the 
 back of a horse, galloping away, or holding 
 the reins in a carriage, and tearing across 
 ^U the country, or jumping a ditch, or running 
 
 
 "A rocking-horse had come, packed on the back of the 
 other." 
 
 a race, such as I read of or see in pictures. 
 What a lot of things there are that I should 
 like to do ! But first I should like to go 
 and see the world. I'll try." 
 
 Apparently it was his godmother's plan 
 
116 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 always to let Kim try, and try hard, before 
 he gained any thing. This day the knots 
 that tied up his traveling-cloak were more 
 than usually troublesome, and he was a fall 
 half-hour before he got out into the open 
 air, and found himself floating merrily over 
 the top of the tower. 
 
 Hitherto, in all his journeys, he had never 
 let himself go out of sight of home, for 
 the dreary building, after all, was home 
 — he remembered no other; but now he 
 felt sick of the very look of his tower, 
 with 'its round smooth walls and level 
 battlements. 
 
 " Off we go !" cried he, when the cloak 
 stirred itself with a slight, slow motion, as 
 if waiting his orders. " Any where — any 
 where, so that I am away from here, and 
 out into the world." 
 
 As he spoke, the cloak, as if seized sud- 
 denly with a new idea, bounded forward 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 117 
 
 and went skimming through the air, faster 
 than the very fastest railway train. 
 
 " Gee-up, gee-up !" cried Prince Dolor, in 
 great excitement. " This is as good as 
 riding a race." 
 
 And he patted the cloak as if it had been 
 a horse — that is, in the way he supposed 
 horses ought to be patted — and tossed his 
 head back to meet the fresh breeze, and 
 pulled his coat-collar up and his hat down, 
 as he felt the wind grow keener and colder 
 — colder than any thing he had ever 
 
 viiown. 
 
 " What does it matter though ?" said he. 
 " I'm a boy, and boys ought not to mind 
 any thing." 
 
 Still, for all his good-will, by and by he 
 began to shiver exceedingly; also, he had 
 come away without his dinner, and he grew 
 frightfully hungry. And to add to every 
 thing, the sunshiny day changed into rain, 
 
 
118 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 and being high up, in the very midst of the 
 clouds, he got soaked through and through 
 in a very few minutes. 
 
 "Shall I turn back?" meditated he. 
 " Suppose I say < Abracadabra V " 
 
 Here he stopped, for already the cloak 
 gave an obedient lurch, as if it were expect- 
 ing to be sent home immediately. 
 
 " No — I can't — I can't go back ! I must 
 go forward and see the world ! But oh ! if 
 I had but the shabbiest old rug to shelter 
 me from the rain, or the driest morsel of 
 bread and cheese, just to keep me from 
 starving ! Still, I don't much mind ; I'm a 
 prince, and ought to be able to stand any 
 thing. Hold on, cloak, we'll make the best 
 of it." 
 
 It was a most curious circumstance, but 
 no sooner had he said this than he felt steal- 
 ing over his knees something warm and 
 soft; in fact, a most beautiful bearskin, 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 119 
 
 which folded itself round him quite natu- 
 rally> and cuddled him up as closely as if 
 he had been the cub of the kind old mother- 
 bear that once owned it. Then feeling in 
 his pocket, which suddenly stuck out in a 
 marvelous way, he found, not exactly bread 
 and cheese, nor even sandwiches, but a 
 packet of the most delicious food he had 
 ever tasted. It was not meat, nor pudding, 
 but a combination of both, and it served 
 him excellently for both. He ate his din- 
 ner with the greatest gusto imaginable, till 
 he grew so thirsty he did not know what to 
 do. 
 
 " Couldn't I have just one drop of water, 
 if it didn't trouble you too much, kindest 
 of godmothers?" 
 
 For he really thought this want was be- 
 yond her power to supply. All the water 
 which supplied Hopeless Tower was pumped 
 up with difficulty from a deep artesian well 
 
120 
 
 The Little Lame Prince- 
 
 — there were such things known in No- 
 mansland — which had been made at the foot 
 of it. But around, for miles upon miles, 
 the desolate plain was perfectly dry. And 
 above it, high in air, how could he expect 
 to find a well, or to get even a drop of 
 water ? 
 
 He forgot one thing — the rain. While he 
 spoke, it came on in another wild burst, as 
 if the clouds had poured themselves out in a 
 passion of crying, wetting him certainly, 
 but leaving behind, in a large glass vessel 
 which he had never noticed before, enough 
 water to quench the thirst of two or three 
 boys at least. And it was so fresh, so pure 
 — as water from the clouds always is when 
 it does not catch the soct from city chim- 
 neys and other defilements— that he drank 
 it, every drop, with the greatest delight and 
 content. 
 
 Also, as soon as it was empty the rain 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 121 
 
 filled it again, so that he was able to wash 
 his face and hands and refresh himself ex- 
 ceedingly. Then the sun came out and 
 dried him in no time. After that he curled 
 himself ud under the bearskin rusr- and 
 
 J- O / 
 
 though he determined to be the most wide- 
 awake boy imaginable, being so exceed- 
 ingly snug and warm and comfortable, 
 Prince Dolor condescended to shut his 
 eyes, just for one minute. The next min- 
 ute he was sound asleep. 
 
 When he awoke, he found himself float- 
 ing over a country quite unlike any thing 
 he had ever seen before. 
 
 Yet it was nothing but what most of you 
 children see every day and never notice it 
 — a pretty country landscape, like England, 
 Scotland, France, or any other land you 
 choose to name. It had no particular feat- 
 ures — nothing in it grand or lovely — was 
 simply pretty, nothing more ; yet to Prince 
 
122 
 
 The Little Lame Prince 
 
 Dolor, who had never gone beyond his 
 lonely tower and level plain, it appeared the 
 most charming sight imaginable. 
 
 First, there was a river. It came tumbling 
 down the hill-side, frothing and foaming, 
 playing at hide-and-seek among the rocks, 
 then bursting out in noisy fun like a child, 
 to bury itself, in deep, still pools. After- 
 ward it went steadily on for a while, like a 
 good grown-up person, till it came to an- 
 other big rock, where it misbehaved itself 
 extremely. It turned into a cataract, and 
 went tumbling over and over, after a fash- 
 ion that made the Prince — who had never 
 seen water before, except in his bath or his 
 drinking-cup — clap his hands with delight. 
 
 " It is so active, so alive ! I like things 
 active and alive !" cried he, and watched it 
 shimmering and dancing, whirling and leap- 
 ing, till, after a few windings and vagaries, 
 it settled into a respectable stream. After 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 123 
 
 that it went along, deep and quiet,but flowing 
 steadily on, till it reached a large lake, into 
 which it slipped, and so ended its course. 
 
 All this the boy saw, either with his own 
 naked eye or through his gold spectacles. 
 He saw also, as in a picture, beautiful but 
 silent, many other things which struck him 
 with wonder, especially a grove of trees. 
 
 Only think, to have lived to his age 
 (which he himself did not know, as he did 
 not know his own birthday) and never to 
 have seen trees ! As he floated over these 
 oaks, they seemed to him — trunk, branches, 
 and leaves — the most curious sight imagin- 
 able. 
 
 " If I could only get nearer, so as to 
 touch them," said he, and iirmediately the 
 obedient cloak ducked down ; Prince Dolor 
 made a snatch at the topmost twig of the 
 tallest tree, and caught a bunch of leaves in 
 his hand. 
 
124 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 Just a bunch of green leaves — such as we 
 see in myriads; watching them bud, grow ? 
 fall, and then kicking them along on th^ 
 ground as if they were worth nothing. 
 Yet, how wonderful they are — every one 
 of them a little different. I don't suppose 
 you could ever find two leaves exactly alike 
 in form, color, and size — no more than 
 you could find two faces alike, or two char- 
 acters exactly the same. The plan of this 
 world is infinite similarity and yet infinite 
 variety. 
 
 Prince Dolor examined his leaves with 
 the greatest, curiosity — and also a little 
 caterpillar that he found walking over one 
 of them. He coaxed it to take an additional 
 walk over his finger, which it did with the 
 greatest dignity and decorum, as if it, Mr. 
 Caterpillar, were the most important indi- 
 vidual in existence. It amused him for a 
 long time ; and when a sudden s^ust of wind 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 125 
 
 blew it overboard, leaves and all, he felt 
 quite disconsolate. 
 
 " Still there must be many live creatures 
 in the world besides caterpillars. I should 
 like to see a few of them." 
 
 " Prince Dolor made a snatch at the topmost twig of the 
 tallest tree. ' ' 
 
 The cloak gave a little dip down, as if to 
 say " All right, my Prince," and bore him 
 across the oak forest to a long fertile valley 
 — called in Scotland a strath, and in Eng- 
 
 
126 
 
 The Little Lame Prince 
 
 land a weald, but what they call it in the 
 tongue of ^Tomansland I do not know. It 
 was made up of corn-fields, pasture-fields, 
 lanes, hedges, brooks, and ponds. Also, 
 in it Avere what the Prince desired to see — 
 a quantity of living creatures, wild and 
 tame. Cows and horses, lambs and sheep, 
 fed in the meadows ; pigs and fowls walked 
 about the farm-yards; and, in lonelier 
 places, hares scudded, rabbits burrowed, and 
 pheasants and partridges, with many other 
 smaller birds, inhabited the fields and woods. 
 
 Through his wonderful spectacles the 
 Prince could see every thing ; but, as I said, 
 it was a silent picture ; he was too high up 
 to catch any thing except a faint murmur, 
 which only aroused his anxiety to hear 
 more. 
 
 " I have as good as two pair of eyes," 
 he thought. " I wonder if my godmother 
 would give me a second pair of ears." 
 
The Little Lame Prince, 
 
 127 
 
 Scarcely had he spoken than he found 
 lying on his lap the most curious little par- 
 cel, all done up in silvery paper. And it 
 contained — what do you think ? Actually 
 a pair of silver ears, which, when he tried 
 them on, fitted so exactly over his own that 
 he hardly felt them, except for the differ- 
 ence they made in his hearing. 
 
 There is something which we listen to 
 daily and never notice. I mean the sounds 
 of the visible world, animate and inanimate. 
 Winds blowing, waters flowing, trees stir- 
 ring, insects whirring (dear me ! I am quite 
 unconsciously writing rhyme), with the va- 
 rious cries of birds and beasts — lowing cat- 
 tle, bleating sheep, grunting pigs, and cack- 
 ling hens — all the infinite discords that 
 somehow or other make a beautiful har- 
 
 mony. 
 
 We hear this, and are so accustomed to it 
 that we think nothing of it; but Prince 
 
 xS 
 
 
 ■ *»2 
 
 
 
 ^mHZ 
 
 
 a^M; 
 
128 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 Dolor, who had lived all his days in the 
 dead silence of Hopeless Tower, heard it for 
 the first time. And oh ! if you had seen his 
 face. 
 
 He listened, listened, as if he could never 
 have done listening. And he looked and 
 looked, as if he could not gaze enough. 
 Above all, the motion of the animals de- 
 lighted him ; cows walking, horses gallop- 
 ing, little lambs and calves running races 
 across the meadows, were such a treat for 
 him to watch — -he that was always so quiet. 
 But, these creatures having four legs, and 
 he only two, the difference did not strike 
 him painfully. 
 
 Still, by and by, after the fashion of chil- 
 dren — and, I fear, of many big people too — 
 he began to want something more than he 
 had, something that would be quite fresh 
 and new. 
 
 " Godmother," he said, having now begun 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 129 
 
 to believe that, whether he saw her or not, 
 he could always speak to her with full con- 
 fidence that she would hear him — " God- 
 mother, all these creatures I like exceed- 
 ingly; but I should like better to see a 
 creature like myself. Couldn't you show 
 me just one little boy ?" 
 
 There was a sigh behind him — it might 
 have been only the wind — and the cloak re- 
 mained so long balanced motionless in air 
 that he was half afraid his godmother had 
 forgotten him, or was otFended with him for 
 asking too much. Suddenly a shrill whistle 
 startled him, even through his silver ears, 
 and looking downward, he saw start up 
 from behind a bush on a common, some- 
 thing- — 
 
 Neither a sheep nor a horse nor a cow — 
 nothing upon four legs. This creature had 
 only two ; but they were long, straight, and 
 strong. And it had a lithe, active body, 
 
130 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 and a curly head of black hair set upon its 
 shoulders. It was a boy, a shepherd-boy, 
 about the Prince's own age — but oh ! so dif- 
 ferent. 
 
 Not that he was an ugly boy — though his 
 face was almost as red as his hands, and his 
 shaggy hair matted like the backs of his 
 own sheep. He was rather a nice-looking 
 lad; and seemed so bright and healthy 
 and good-tempered— " jolly " would be the 
 word, only I am not sure if they have such 
 a one in the elegant language of !N"omans- 
 land — that the little Prince watched him 
 with great admiration. 
 
 " Might he come and play with me ? 2 
 would drop down to the ground to him, or 
 fetch him up to me here. Oh, how nice it 
 would be if I only had a little boy to play 
 with me !" 
 
 But the cloak, usually so obedient to his 
 wishes, disobeyed him now. There were 
 
It was a boy, a shepherd-boy." 
 
 < 131 ) 
 

 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 133 
 
 14 
 
 evidently some things which his godmo- 
 ther either could not or would not give. 
 The cloak hung stationary, high in air, 
 never attempting to descend. The shepherd- 
 lad evidently took it for a large bird, and, 
 shading his eyes, looked up at it, making 
 the Prince's heart beat fast. 
 
 However, nothing ensued. The boy 
 turned round, with a long, loud whistle — 
 seemingly his usual and only way of ex- 
 pressing his feelings. He could not make 
 the thing out exactly — it was a rather mys- 
 terious affair, but it did not trouble him 
 much — he was not an " examining " boy. 
 
 Then, stretching himself, for he had been 
 evidently half asleep, he began flopping his 
 shoulders with his arms, to wake and warm 
 himself; while his dog, a rough collie, who 
 had been guarding the sheep meanwhile, 
 began to jump upon him, barking with de- 
 light. 
 
134 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 " Down, Snap, down ! Stop that, or I'll 
 thrash you," the Prince heard him say; 
 though with such a rough, hard voice and 
 queer pronunciation that it was difficult to 
 make the words out. " Hollo ! Let's warm 
 ourselves by a race." 
 
 They started off together, boy and dog — 
 barking and shouting, till it was doubtful 
 which made the most noise or ran the fast- 
 est. A regular steeple-chase it was : first 
 across the level common, greatly disturbing 
 the quiet sheep; and then tearing away 
 across country, scrambling through hedges, 
 and leaping ditches, and tumbling up and 
 down over plowed fields. They did not 
 seem to have any thing to run for— but as 
 if they did it, both of them, for the mere 
 pleasure of motion. 
 
 And what a pleasure that seemed ! To 
 the dog of course, but scarcely less so to the 
 boy. How he skimmed along over the 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 135 
 
 ground — his cheeks glowing, and his hair 
 flying, and his legs- — oh, what a pair of legs 
 he had ! 
 
 Prince Dolor watched him with great in- 
 tentness, and in a state of excitement almost 
 equal to that of the runner himself — for a 
 while. Then the sweet, pale face grew a 
 trifle paler, the lips began to quiver, and the 
 eyes to fill. 
 
 " How nice it must be to run like that !" 
 he said softly, thinking that never — no, 
 never in this world — would he be able to 
 do the same. 
 
 Now he understood what his godmother 
 had meant when she gave him his traveling- 
 cloak, and why he had heard that sigh — he 
 was sure it was hers — when he had asked 
 to see "just one little boy." 
 
 " I think I had rather not look at him 
 again," said the poor little Prince, drawing 
 himself back into the centre of his cloak, 
 
 9 
 
136 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 and resuming his favorite posture, sitting 
 like a Turk, with his arms wrapped round 
 his feeble, useless legs. 
 
 " You're no good to me," he said, patting 
 them mournfully. " You never will be any 
 good to me. I wonder why I had you at 
 all ; I wonder why I was born at all, since J 
 was not to grow up like other little boys 
 Why not ?" 
 
 A question so strange, so sad, yet so often 
 occurring in some form or other in this 
 world — as you will find, my children, when 
 you are older — that even if he had put it to 
 his mother she could only have answered 
 it, as we have to answer many as difficult 
 things, by simply saying, " I don't know." 
 There is much that we do not know, and 
 can not understand — we big folks no more 
 than you little ones. We have to accept it 
 all just as you have to accept any thing 
 which your parents may tell you, even 
 
 :(/ 
 
 l* 
 V"*?--^ 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 137 
 
 though you don't as yet see the reason of it. 
 You may some time, if you do exactly as 
 they tell you, and are content to wait. 
 
 Prince Dolor sat a good while thus, or it 
 appeared to him a good while, so many 
 thoughts came and went through his poor 
 young mind — thoughts of great bitterness, 
 which, little though he was, seemed to make 
 him grow years older in a few minutes. 
 
 Then he fancied the cloak began to rock 
 gently to and fro, with a soothing kind of 
 motion, as if he were in somebody's arms: 
 somebody who did not speak, but loved him 
 and comforted him without need of words; 
 not by deceiving him with false encourage- 
 ment or hope, but by making him see the 
 plain, hard truth in all its hardness, and 
 thus letting him quietly face it, till it grew 
 softened down, and did not seem nearly so 
 dreadful after all. 
 
 Through the drearv silence and blank- 
 
138 
 
 The Little Lame Prince, 
 
 ness, for he had placed himself so that he 
 could see nothing but the sky, and had 
 taken off his silver ears as well as his gold 
 spectacles — what was the use of either when 
 he had no legs with which to walk or run ? 
 — up from below there rose a delicious 
 sound. 
 
 You have heard it hundreds of times, my 
 children, and so have I. When I was a 
 child I thought there was nothing so sweet ; 
 and I think so still. It was just the song 
 of a skylark, mounting higher and higher 
 from the ground, till it came so close thai 
 Prince Dolor could distinguish his quiver- 
 ing wings and tiny body, almost too tiny to 
 contain such a gush of music. 
 
 " Oh, you beautiful, beautiful bird !" cried 
 he ; "I should dearly like to take you in 
 and cuddle you. That is, if I could— if I 
 dared." 
 
 But he hesitated. The little brown creat- 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 139 
 
 ure with its loud heavenly voice almost made 
 him afraid. Nevertheless it also made him 
 happy; and he watched and listened — so 
 absorbed that he forgot all regret and pain, 
 forgot every thing in the world except the 
 little lark. 
 
 It soared and soared, and he was just 
 wondering if it would soar out of sight, and 
 what in the world he should do when it was 
 gone, when it suddenly closed its wings, as 
 larks do when they mean to drop to the 
 ground. But, instead of dropping to the 
 ground, it dropped right into the little boy's 
 breast. 
 
 What felicity ! If it would only stay ! A 
 tiny, soft thing to fondle and kiss, to sing 
 to him all day long, and be his playfellow 
 and companion, tame and tender, while to 
 the rest of the world it was a wild bird of 
 the air. What a pride, what a delight ! To 
 have something that nobody else had — some- 
 
140 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 thing all his own. As the traveling-cloak 
 traveled on, he little heeded where, and the 
 lark still stayed, nestled down in his bosom, 
 hopped from his hand to his shoulder, and 
 kissed him with its dainty beak, as if it 
 loved him, Prince Dolor forgot all his grief, 
 and was entirely happy. 
 
 But when he got in sight of Hopeless 
 Tower a painful thought struck him. 
 
 " My pretty bird, what am I to do with 
 you ? If I take you into my room and shut 
 you up there, you, a wild skylark of the air, 
 what will become of you? I am used to 
 this, but you are not. You will be so 
 miserable; and suppose my nurse should 
 find you — she who can't bear the sound of 
 singing? Besides, I remember her once 
 telling me that the nicest thing she ever ate 
 in her life was lark pie !" 
 
 The little boy shivered all over at the 
 thought. And though the merry lark im- 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 141 
 
 mediately broke into the loudest carol, as 
 if saying derisively that he defied any body 
 to eat him, still Prince Dolor was very un- 
 easy. In another minute he had made up 
 his mind. 
 
 " !No, my bird, nothing so dreadful shall 
 happen to you if I can help it; I would 
 rather do without you altogether. Yes, I'll 
 try. Fly away, my darling, my beautiful ! 
 Good-by, my merry, merry bird." 
 
 Opening his two caressing hands, in 
 which, as if for protection, he had folded it 
 he let the lark go. It lingered a minute, 
 perching on the rim of the cloak, and look- 
 ing at him with eyes of almost human ten- 
 derness ; then away it flew, far up into the 
 blue sky. It was only a bird. 
 
 But some time after, when Prince Dolor 
 had eaten his supper — somewhat drearily, 
 except for the thought that he could not 
 possibly sup off lark pie now — and gone 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 quietly to bed, the old familiar little bed, 
 where he was accustomed to sleep, or lie 
 awake contentedly thinking — suddenly he 
 heard outside the window a little faint carol 
 - — faint but cheerful — cheerful, even though 
 ifc was the middle of the night. 
 
 The dear little lark ! it had not flown 
 away after all. And it was truly the most 
 extraordinary bird, for, unlike ordinary 
 larks, it kept hovering about the tower in 
 the silence and darkness of the night, out- 
 side the window or over the roof. When- 
 ever he listened for a moment, he heard it 
 singing still. 
 
 He went to sleep as happy as a king. 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 143 
 
 CHAPTER VXL 
 
 "Happy as a king.". How far kings are 
 happy I cannot say, no more than could 
 Prince Dolor, though he had once been a 
 king himself. But he remembered nothing 
 about it, and there was nobody to tell him, 
 except his nurse, who had been forbidden 
 upon pain of death to let him know any thing 
 about his dead parents, or the king his 
 uncle, or indeed any part of his own history. 
 
 Sometimes be speculated about himself, 
 whether he had had a father and mother as 
 other little boys had, what they had been 
 like, and why he had never seen them. 
 But, knowing nothing about them, he did 
 not miss them — only once or twice, reading 
 pretty stories about little children and their 
 mothers, who helped them when they were 
 
144 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 In difficulty, and comforted them when they 
 were sick, he, feeling ill and dull and lonely, 
 wondered what had become of his mother, 
 and why she never came to see him> 
 
 Then, in his history lessons, of course he 
 read about kings and princes, and the gov- 
 ernments of different countries, and the 
 events that happened there. And though 
 he but faintly took in all this, still he did 
 take it in a little, and worried his young 
 brain about it, and perplexed his nurse with 
 questions, to which she returned sharp and 
 mysterious answers, which only set him 
 thinking the more. 
 
 He had plenty of time for thinking. 
 After his last journey in the traveling-cloak, 
 the journey which had given him so much 
 pain, his desire to see the world had some- 
 how faded away. He contented himself 
 with reading his books, and looking out of 
 the tower windows, and listening to his be- 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 145 
 
 loved little lark, which had come home 
 with him that day, and never left him again. 
 
 True, it kept out of the way ; and though 
 his nurse sometimes dimly heard it, and 
 said, " What is that horrid noise outside ?" 
 she never got the faintest chance of making 
 in into a lark pie. Prince Dolor had his 
 pet all to himself, and though he seldom 
 saw it, he knew it was near him, and he 
 caught continually, at odd hours of the day, 
 and even in the night, fragments of its de- 
 licious song. 
 
 All during the winter — so far as there 
 ever was any difference between summer 
 and winter in Hopeless Tower — the little 
 bird cheered and amused him. He scarcely 
 needed any thing more — not even his travel- 
 ing-cloak, which lay bundled up unnoticed 
 in a corner, tied up in its innumerable knots. 
 Nor did his godmother come near him. It 
 seemed as if she had given these treasures 
 
146 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 and left him alone — to use them or lose 
 them, apply them or misapply them, according 
 to his own choice. That is all we can do with 
 children when they grow into big children old 
 enough to distinguish between right and 
 wrong, and too old to be forced to do either, 
 
 Prince Dolor was now quite a big hoy. 
 Not tall — alas ! he never could be that, with 
 his poor little shrunken legs, which were of 
 no use, only an encumbrance. But he was 
 stout and strong, with great sturdy shoul- 
 ders, and muscular arms, upon which he 
 could swing himself about almost like a 
 monkey. As if in compensation for his 
 useless lower limbs, Nature had given to 
 these extra strength and activity. His face, 
 too, was very handsome; thinner, firmer, 
 more manly ; but still the sweet face of his 
 childhood — his mother's own face. 
 
 How his mother would have liked to look 
 at him ! Perhaps she did — who knows ? 
 
 ;^~ 
 
 m 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 147 
 
 The boy was not a stupid boy, either. He 
 could learn almost any thing he chose — and 
 he did choose, which was more than half 
 the battle. He never gave up his lessons 
 till he had learned them all — never thought 
 it a punishment that he had to work at 
 them, and that they cost him a deal of 
 trouble sometimes. 
 
 "But," thought he, "men work, and it 
 must be so grand to be a man — a prince, 
 too; and I fancy princes work harder than 
 any body — except kings. The princes I 
 read about generally turn into kings. I 
 wonder" — the boy Was always wondering 
 — a Nurse" — and one day he startled her 
 with a sudden question — " tell me — shall I 
 ever be a king?" 
 
 The woman stood, perplexed beyond ex- 
 pression. So long a time had passed by 
 since her crime — if it were a crime — and 
 her sentence, that she now seldom thought 
 
 I 
 
 1Af 
 
 L>V'vsi 
 
148 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 £~^ 
 
 of either. Even her punishment — to be 
 shut up for life in Hopeless Tower — she had 
 gradually got used to. Used also to the 
 little lame Prince, her charge — whom at 
 first she had hated, though she carefully did 
 every thing to keep him alive, since upon 
 him her own life hung. But latterly she 
 had ceased to hate him, and, in a sort of 
 way, almost loved him — at least, enough to 
 be sorry for him — an innocent child, im- 
 prisoned here till he grew into an old man, 
 and became a dull, worn-out creature like 
 herself. Sometimes, watching him, she felt 
 more sorry for him than even for herself; 
 and then, seeing she looked a less miserable 
 and ugly woman, he did not shrink from 
 her as usual. 
 
 He did not now. " Nurse — dear nurse," 
 said he, " I don't mean to vex you, but tell 
 me — what is a king? shall I ever be one?" 
 
 When she began to think less of herself 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 149 
 
 and more of the child, the woman's courage 
 increased. The idea came to her — what 
 harm would it be, even if he did know his 
 own history ? Perhaps he ought to know 
 it — for there had been various ups and 
 downs, usurpations, revolutions, and restora- 
 tions in Nomansland, as in most other coun- 
 tries. Something might happen — who could 
 tell ? Changes might occur. Possibly a 
 crown would even yet be set upon those 
 pretty, fair curls — which she began to think 
 prettier than ever when she saw the imagi- 
 nary coronet upon them. 
 
 She sat down, considering whether her 
 oath, never to " say a word " to Prince 
 Dolor about himself, would be broken if she 
 were to take a pencil and write what was 
 to be told. A mere quibble — a mean, mis- 
 erable quibble. But then she was a miser- 
 able woman, more to be pitied than scorned. 
 
 After long doubt, and with great trepida- 
 
150 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 tion, she put her finger to her lips, and 
 taking the Prince's slate — with the sponge 
 tied to it, ready to rub out the writing in a 
 minute — she wrote— 
 
 " You are a king." 
 
 Prince Dolor started. His face grew 
 pale, and then flushed all over; his eyes 
 glistened $ he held himself erect. Lame as 
 he was, any body could see he was born to 
 be a king. 
 
 " Hush !" said his nurse, as he was begin- 
 ning to speak. And then, terribly fright- 
 ened all the while — people who have done 
 wrong always are frightened — she wrote 
 down in a few hurried sentences his history. 
 How his parents had died — his uncle had 
 usurped his throne, and sent him to end his 
 days in this lonely tower. 
 
 " I, too," added she, bursting into tears. 
 " Unless, indeed, you could get out into the 
 world, and fight for your rights like a man. 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 151 
 
 m 
 
 And fight for me also, my Prince, that I J/^ 
 may not die in this desolate place." 
 
 " Poor old nurse !" said the boy, compag- 
 |U^ sionately. For somehow, boy as he was, kPjM 
 
 " Taking the Prince's slate, she wrote, 'You are a 
 king."' 
 
 when he heard he was born to be a king, he 
 
 felt like a man — like a king — who could 
 
 afford to be tender because he was strong. 
 
 He scarcely slept that night, and even 
 
 though he heard his little lark singing in 
 10 
 
 
152 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 the sunrise, he barely listened to it. Things 
 more serious and important had taken pos- 
 session of his mind. 
 
 " Suppose," thought he, " I were to do as 
 she says and go out into the world, no mat- 
 ter how it hurts me — the world of people^ 
 active people, as active as that boy I saw. 
 They might only laugh at me — poor help- 
 less creature that I am; but still I might 
 show them I could do something. At any 
 rate, I might go and see if there were 
 any thing for me to do. Godmother, help 
 me!" 
 
 It was so long since he had asked her 
 help that he was hardly surprised when he 
 got no answer — only the little lark outside 
 the window sang louder and louder, and the 
 sun rose, flooding the room with light. 
 
 Prince Dolor sprang out of bed, and be- 
 gan dressing himself, which was hard work, 
 for he was not used to it — he had always 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 153 
 
 been accustomed to depend upon his nurse 
 for every thing. 
 
 "J3ut I must now learn to be independ- 
 ent," thought he. "Fancy a king being 
 dressed like a baby!" 
 
 So he did the best be could — awkwardly 
 but cheerily — and then he leaped to the 
 corner where lay bis traveling-cloak, untied 
 it as before, and watched it unrolling itself 
 —which it did rapidly, with a hearty good- 
 will, as if quite tired of idleness. So was 
 Prince Dolor — or felt as if he were. He 
 jumped into the middle of it, said his charm, 
 and was out through the sky-light imme- 
 diately. 
 
 " Good-by, pretty lark!" he shouted, as 
 he passed it on the wing, still warbling its 
 carol to the newly risen sun. " You have 
 been my pleasure, my delight; now I must 
 go and work. Sing to old nurse till I come 
 back again. Perhaps she'll hear you — per- 
 
154 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 haps she won't — but it will do her good all 
 the same. Good-by!" 
 
 But, as the cloak hung irresolute in air, 
 he suddenly remembered that he had not 
 determined where to go — indeed, he did not 
 know, and there was nobody to tell him. 
 
 " Godmother," he cried, in much per- 
 plexity, " you know what I want — at least, 
 I hope you do, for I hardly do myself — take 
 me where I ought to go; show me what- 
 ever I ought to see — never mind what I like 
 to see," as a sudden idea came into his mind 
 that he might see many painful and dis- 
 agreeable things. But this journey was not 
 for pleasure — as before. He was not a baby 
 now, to do nothing but play— big boys do 
 not always play. Nor men neither — they 
 work. Thus much Prince Dolor knew — 
 though very little more. And as the cloak 
 started off, traveling faster than he had ever 
 known it to do — through sky-land and 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 155 
 
 A 
 
 a 
 
 -•H 
 
 cloud-land, over freezing mountain-tops, and 
 desolate stretches of forest, and smiling cul- 
 tivated plains., and great lakes that seemed 
 to him almott as shoreless as the sea — 
 he was often rather frightened. But he 
 crouched down, silent and quiet; what was 
 the use of making a fuss 1 and. wrapping 
 himself up in his bearskin, waited for what 
 was to happen. 
 
 After some time he heard a murmur in. 
 the distance, increasing more and more till 
 it grew like the hum of a gigantic hive of 
 beeSc And, stretching his chin over the 
 rmi of his cloak, Prince Dolor saw— far, far 
 below him, yet, with his gold spectacles and 
 silver ears on, he could distinctly hear and 
 see— What ? 
 
 Most of us have some time or other visited 
 a great metropolis — have wandered through 
 its net-work ot streets — lost ourselves in its 
 crowds of people — looked up at its tall rows 
 
 5?*^=^ 
 
156 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 of houses, its grand public buildings, 
 churches, and squares. Also, perhaps, we 
 have peeped into its miserable little back 
 alleys, where dirty children play in gutters 
 all day and half the night — or where men 
 reel tipsy and women fight — where even 
 young boys go about picking pockets, with 
 nobody to tell them it is wrong except the 
 policeman, and he simply takes them off to 
 prison. And all this wretchedness is close 
 behind the grandeur — like the two sides of 
 the leaf of a book. 
 
 An awful sight is a large city, seen any 
 how, from any where. But, suppose you 
 were to see it from the upper air, where, 
 with your eyes and ears open, you could 
 take in every thing at once ? What would 
 it look like ? How would you feel about 
 it ? I hardly know myself. Do you ? 
 
 Prince Dolor had need to be a king— -that 
 is, a bo;y with a singly nature— to 'be able 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 157 
 
 to stand such a sight without being utterly 
 overcome. But he was very much bewil- 
 dered — as bewildered as a blind person who 
 is suddenly made to see. 
 
 He gazed down on the city below him, 
 and then put his hand over his eyes. 
 
 " I can't bear to look at it, it is so beauti- 
 ful — -so dreadful. And I don't understand 
 it — not one bit. There is nobody to tell me 
 about it. I wish I had somebody to speak 
 to." 
 
 "Do you? Then pray speak to me. I 
 was always considered good at conversa- 
 tion." 
 
 The voice that squeaked out this reply 
 was an excellent imitation of the human 
 one, though it came only from a bird. No 
 lark this time, however, but a great black 
 and white creature that new into the cloak, 
 and began walking round and round on the 
 edge of it with a dignified stride, one foot 
 
158 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 before the other, like any unfeathered biped 
 you could name. 
 
 "I haven't the honor of your acquaint- 
 ance, sir," said the boy politely. 
 
 " Ma'am, if you please. I am a mother- 
 bird, and my name is Mag, and I shall be 
 happy to tell you every thing you want to 
 know. For I know a great deal; and I 
 enjoy talking. My family is of great an- 
 tiquity ; we have built in this palace for hun- 
 dreds — that is to say, dozens of years. I 
 am intimately acquainted with the King, 
 the Queen, and the little princes and prin- 
 cesses — also the maids of honor, and all the 
 inhabitants of the city. I talk a good deal, 
 but I always talk sense, and I dare say I 
 should be exceedingly useful to a poor lit- 
 tle ignorant boy like you." 
 
 " I am a prince," said the other gently. 
 
 " All right. And I am a magpie. You 
 will find me a most respectable bird." 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 159 
 
 " I have no doubt of it," was the polite 
 answer — though he thought in his own mind 
 that Mag must have a very good opinion of 
 herself. But she was a lady and a stranger, 
 so of course he was civil to her. 
 
 She settled herself at his elbow, and 
 began to chatter away, pointing out with 
 one skinny claw, while she balanced herself 
 on the other, every object of interest — evi- 
 dently believing, as no doubt all its inhab- 
 itants did, that there was no capital in the 
 world like the great metropolis of Romans- 
 land. 
 
 I have not seen it, and therefore cannot 
 describe it, so we will just take it upon 
 trust, and suppose it to be, like every other 
 fine city, the finest city that ever was built. 
 " Mag " said so — and of course she knew. 
 
 Nevertheless, there were a few things in 
 it which surprised Prince Dolor — and, as he 
 had said, he could not understand them at 
 
160 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 all. One half the people seemed so happy 
 and busy — hurrying up and down the full 
 streets, or driving lazily along the parks in 
 their grand carriages, while the other half 
 were so wretched and miserable. 
 
 " Can't the world be made a little more 
 level ? I would try to do it if I were the 
 king." 
 
 "But you're not the king; only a little 
 goose of a boy," returned the Magpie loftily. 
 " And I'm here not to explain things, only 
 to show them. Shall I show you the royal 
 palace?" 
 
 It was a very magnificent palace. It had 
 terraces and gardens, battlements and tow- 
 ers. It extended over acres of ground, and 
 had in it rooms enough to accommodate 
 half the city. Its windows looked in all 
 directions, but none of them had any par- 
 ticular view — except a small one, high up 
 toward the roof, which looked onto the 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 161 
 
 Beautiful Mountains. But since the Queen 
 died there it had been closed, boarded up, 
 indeed, the Magpie said. It was so little 
 and inconvenient that nobody cared to live 
 in it. Besides, the lower apartments, which 
 had no view, were magnificent — worthy of 
 being inhabited by his Majesty the King. 
 
 " I should like to see the King," said 
 Prince Dolor. 
 
 But what followed was so important that 
 I must take another chapter to tell it in. 
 
162 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "What, I wonder, would be most people's 
 idea of a king ? T^hat was Prince Dolor's ? 
 Perhaps a very splendid personage, with a 
 crown on his head and a sceptre in his 
 hand, sitting on a throne and judging the 
 people. Always doing right, and never 
 wrong — " The king can do no wrong" was 
 a law laid down in olden times. !Kever 
 cross or tired or sick or suffering; per- 
 fectly handsome and well-dressed, calm and 
 good-tempered, ready to see and hear every 
 body, and discourteous to nobody ; all things 
 always going well with him, and nothing 
 unpleasant ever happening. 
 
 This, probably, was what Prince Dolor 
 expected to see. And what did he see? 
 But I must tell you how he saw it. 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 163 
 
 "Ah," said the Magpie, "no levee to- 
 day. The King is ill, though his Majesty 
 does not wish it to be generally known — -it 
 would be so very inconvenient. He can't 
 see you, but perhaps you might like to go 
 and take a look at him in a way I often do ? 
 It is so very amusing." 
 
 Amusing, indeed] 
 
 The Prince was just now too much ex- 
 cited to talk much. Was he not going to 
 see the King his uncle, who had succeeded 
 his father and dethroned himself 5 had 
 stepped into all the pleasant things that he, 
 Prince Dolor, ought to have hac!, and shut 
 him up in a desolate tower ? "What was he 
 like, this great, bad, clever man ? Had he 
 got all the things he wanted, which another 
 ought to have had? And did he enjoy 
 them? 
 
 " Nobody knows," answered tbe Magpie, 
 just as if she had been sitting inside the 
 
 m: 
 
164 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 Prince's heart, instead of on the top of his 
 shoulder. " He is a king, and that's enough. 
 For the rest, nobody knows." 
 
 As she spoke, Mag flew down onto the 
 palace roof, where the cloak had rested, set- 
 tling down between the great stacks of 
 chimneys as comfortably as if on the ground. 
 She pecked at the tiles with her beak — 
 truly she was a wonderful bird — and imme- 
 diately a little hole opened, a sort of door, 
 through which conld be seen distinctly the 
 chamber below. 
 
 " Now look in, my Prince. Make haste, 
 for I must soon eflut it up again." 
 
 But the boy hesitated. " Isn't it rude ? 
 — won't they think us intruding ?" 
 
 " Oh dear no ! there's a hole like this 
 in every palace ; dozens of hoies. .naeec 
 Every body knows it, but nobody speaks of 
 it. Intrusion! Why, though the royal 
 family are supposed to live shut up behind 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 165 
 
 stone walls ever so thick, all the world 
 knows that they live in a glass honse where 
 every body can see them and throw a stone 
 at them. Now, pop down on your knees, 
 and take a peep at his Majesty !" 
 
 His Majesty ! 
 
 The Prince gazed eagerly down into a 
 large room, the largest room he had ever 
 beheld, with furniture and hangings 
 grander than any thing he could have ever 
 imagined. A stray sunbeam, coming 
 through a crevice of the darkened win- 
 dows, struck across the carpet, and it was 
 the loveliest carpet ever woven — just like a 
 bed of flowers to walk over; only nobody 
 walked over it, the room being perfectly 
 empty and silent. 
 
 " Where is the King ?" asked the puzzled 
 boy. 
 
 " There," said Mag, pointing with one 
 wrinkled claw to a magnificent bed, large 
 
166 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 enough to contain six people. In the centre 
 of it, just visible under the silken counter- 
 pane — quite straight and still — with its 
 head on the lace pillow, lay a small figure, 
 something like wax-work, fast asleep — very 
 fast asleep ! There was a number of spark- 
 ling rings on the tiny yellow hands, that 
 were curled a little, helplessly, like a baby's, 
 outside the coverlet; the eyes were shut, 
 the nose looked sharp and thin, and the 
 long gray beard hid the mouth and lay over 
 the breast. A sight not ugly nor frighten- 
 ing, only solemn and quiet. And so very 
 silent — two little flies buzzing about the 
 curtains of the bed making the only audible 
 sound. 
 
 " Is that the King ?" whispered Prince 
 Dolor. 
 
 " Yes," replied the bird. 
 
 He had been angry — furiously angry — 
 ever since he knew how his uncle had taken 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 167 
 
 the crown, and sent him, a poor little help- 
 less child, to he shut up for life, just as if 
 he had "been dead. Many times the hoy 
 had felt as if, king as he was, he should like 
 to strike him, this great, strong, wicked man. 
 
 The eyes were shut, and the long gray beard lay over 
 the breast." 
 
 Why, you might as well have struck a 
 
 haby ! How helpless he lay, with his eyes 
 
 shut, and his idle hands folded ; they had 
 
 no more work to do, had or good, 
 ii 
 
168 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 " What is the matter with him ?" asked 
 the Prince again. 
 
 " He is dead," said the Magpie, with a 
 croak. 
 
 ISTo, there was not the least use in being 
 angry with him now. On the contrary, the 
 Prince felt almost sorry for him, except that 
 he looked so peaceful, with all his cares at 
 rest. And this was being dead ? So even 
 kings died? 
 
 " Well, well, he hadn't an easy life, folk 
 say, for all his grandeur. Perhaps he is 
 glad it is over. Good-by, your Majesty." 
 
 With another cheerful tap of her beak, 
 Mistress Mag shut down the little door in 
 the tiles, and Prince Dolor's first and last 
 sight of his uncle was ended. 
 
 He sat in the centre of his traveling-cloak, 
 silent and thoughtful. 
 
 " What shall we do now ?" said the Mag- 
 pie. " There's nothing much more to be 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 169 
 
 done with his Majesty, except a fine funeral, 
 which I shall certainly go and see. All the 
 world will. He interested the world ex- 
 ceedingly when he was alive, and he ought 
 to do it now he's dead — just once more. 
 And since he can't hear me, I may as well 
 say that, on the whole, his Majesty is much 
 "better dead than alive — if we can only get 
 some hody in his place. There'll be such a 
 row in the city presently. Suppose we float 
 up again, and see it all — at a safe distance, 
 though. It will he such fun." 
 
 « What will be fun ?" 
 
 " A revolution." 
 
 Whether any body except a magpie would 
 have called it " fun " I don't know, but it 
 certainly was a remarkable scene. 
 
 As soon as the cathedral bell began to 
 toll and the minute guns to fire, announcing 
 to the kingdom that it was without a king, 
 the people gathered in crowds, stopping at 
 
170 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 street corners to talk together. The mur- 
 mur now and then rose into a shout, and 
 the shout into a roar. When Prince Dolor, 
 quietly floating in upper air, caught the 
 sound of their different and opposite cries, 
 it seemed to him as if the whole city had 
 gone mad together. 
 
 "Long live the King!" "The King is 
 dead — down with the King !" " Down with 
 the crown, and the King, too!" "Hurrah 
 for the Republic!" "Hurrah for no gov- 
 ernment at all !" 
 
 Such were the shouts which traveled up 
 to the traveling-cloak. And then began — 
 oh, what a scene ! 
 
 When you children are grown men and 
 women — or before — you will hear and read 
 in books about what are called revolutions 
 — earnestly I trust that neither I nor you 
 may ever see one. But they have hap- 
 pened, and may happen again, in other 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 171 
 
 countries besides Nomansland, when wicked 
 kings have helped to make their people 
 wicked too, or out of an unrighteous nation 
 have sprung rulers equally bad ; or, without 
 either of these causes, when a restless coun- 
 try has fancied any change better than no 
 change at all. 
 
 For me, I don't like changes, unless pretty 
 sure that they are -for good. And how good 
 can come out of absolute evil — the horrible 
 evil that went on this night under Prince 
 Dolor's very eyes — soldiers shooting people 
 down by hundreds in the streets, scaffolds 
 erected, and heads dropping off — houses 
 burned, and women and children mur- 
 dered — this is more than I can under- 
 stand. 
 
 But all these things you will find in his- 
 tory, my children, and must by and by 
 judge for yourselves the right and wrong 
 of them, as far as any body ever can judge. 
 
 
172 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 Or* 
 
 Prince Dolor saw it all. Things hap- 
 pened so fast one after another that they 
 quite confused his faculties. 
 
 " Oh, let me go home," he cried at last, 
 stopping his ears and shutting his eyes; 
 "only let me go home!" for even his lonely 
 tower seemed home, and its dreariness and 
 silence absolute paradise after all this. 
 
 " Good-by, then," said the Magpie, flap- 
 ping her wings. She had been chatting in- 
 cessantly all day and all night, for it was ac- 
 tually thus long that Prince Dolor had been 
 hovering over the city, neither eating nor 
 sleeping, with all these terrible things hap- 
 pening under his very v.yes. " You've had 
 enough, I suppose, of seeaig the world?" 
 
 " Oh, I have — I have !" cried the Prince, 
 with a shudder. 
 
 " That is, till next time. All right, your 
 Royal Highness. You don't know me, but I 
 know you. "We may meet again some time." 
 
 &>:. 
 
 \m\ 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 173 
 
 She looked at him with her clear, pierc- 
 ing eyes, sharp enough to see through every 
 thing, and it seemed as if they changed 
 from bird's eyes to human eyes — the very 
 eyes of his godmother, whom he had not 
 seen for ever so long. But the minute 
 afterward she became only a bird, and with 
 a screech and a chatter, spread her wings 
 and flew away. 
 
 Prince Dolor fell into a kind of swoon, 
 of utter misery, bewilderment, and ex- 
 haustion, and when he awoke he found 
 himself in his own room — alone and quiet 
 — with the dawn just breaking, and the 
 long rim of yellow light in the horizon 
 glimmering through the window-panes. 
 
174 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 When Prince Dolor sat up in bed, trying 
 fco remember where he was, whither he had 
 been, and what he had seen the day before, 
 he perceived that his room was empty. 
 
 Generally his nurse rather worried him 
 by breaking his slumbers, coming in and 
 " setting things to rights," as she called it 
 Now the dust lay thick upon chairs and 
 tables; there was no harsh voice heard to 
 scold him for not getting up immediately — 
 which, I am sorry to say, this boy did not al- 
 ways do. For he so enjoyed lying still, and 
 thinking lazily about every thing or nothing, 
 that, if he had not tried hard against it, he 
 would certainly have become like those 
 celebrated 
 
 "Two little men 
 Who lay in their bed till the clock struck ten." 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 175 
 
 It was striking ten now, and still no nurse 
 was to be seen. He was rather relieved at 
 first, for he felt so tired ; and besides, when 
 he stretched out his arm, he found to his 
 dismay that he had gone to bed in his 
 clothes. 
 
 Very uncomfortable he felt, of course ; 
 and just a little frightened. Especially when 
 he began to call and call again, but nobody 
 answered. Often he used to think how nice 
 it would be to get rid of his nurse and live 
 in this tower all by himself — like a sort 
 of monarch, able to do every thing he 
 liked, and leave undone all that he did 
 not want to do ; but now that this seemed 
 really to have happened, he did not like it 
 at all. 
 
 " l^urse — dear nurse — please come back !" 
 he called out. " Come back, and I will be 
 the best boy in all the land." 
 
 And when she did not come back, and 
 
176 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 nothing but silence answered his lamentable 
 call, he very nearly began to cry. 
 
 " This won't do," he said at last, dashing 
 the tears from his eyes. " It's just like a 
 baby, and I'm a big boy — shall be a man 
 some day. What has happened, I wonder ? 
 I'll go and see." 
 
 He sprang out of bed — not to his feet, 
 alas ! but to his poor little weak knees, and 
 crawled on them from room to room. All 
 the four chambers were deserted — not for- 
 lorn or untidy, for every thing seemed to 
 have been done for his comfort — the break- 
 fast and dinner things were laid, the food 
 spread in order. He might live " like a 
 prince," as the proverb is, for several days. 
 But the place was entirely forsaken — there 
 was evidently not a creature but himself in 
 the solitary tower. 
 
 A great fear came upon the poor boy. 
 Lonely as his life had been, he had never 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 177 
 
 known what it was to be absolutely alone. 
 A kind of despair seized him — no violent 
 anger or terror, but a sort of patient desola- 
 tion. 
 
 " What in the world am I to do ?" thought 
 he, and sat down in the middle of the floor, 
 half inclined to believe that it would be 
 better to give up entirely, lay himself down, 
 and die. 
 
 This feeling, however, did not last long, 
 for he was young and strong, and, I said 
 before, by nature a very courageous boy. 
 There came into his head, somehow or other, 
 a proverb that his nurse had taught him — 
 the people of ISFomansland were very fond 
 of proverbs — 
 
 " For every evil under the sun 
 There is a remedy, or there's none ; 
 If there is one, try to find it — 
 If there isn't, never mind it." 
 
 "I wonder is there a remedy now, and 
 
 m. 
 
178 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 *-1*i 
 
 could I find it?" cried the Prince, jumping 
 up and looking out of the window. 
 
 ~No help there. He only saw the broad, 
 bleak, sunshiny plain — that is, at first. But 
 by and by, in the circle of mud that sur- 
 rounded the base of the tower, he perceived 
 distinctly the marks of a horse's feet, and 
 just in the spot where the deaf-mute was 
 accustomed to tie up his great black charger, 
 while he himself ascended, there lay the 
 remains of a bundle of hay and a feed of 
 corn. 
 
 " Yes, that's it. He has come and gone, 
 taking nurse away with him. Poor nurse ! 
 how glad she would be to go !" 
 
 That was Prince Dolor's first thought. 
 His second — wasn't it natural ? — was a pas- 
 sionate indignation at her cruelty — at the 
 cruelty of all the world toward him, a poor 
 little helpless boy. Then he determined, 
 forsaken as he was, to try and hold on to 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 179 
 
 the last, and not to die as long as he could 
 possibly help it. 
 
 Anyhow, it would be easier to die here 
 than out in the world, among the terrible 
 doings which he had just beheld — from the 
 
 "There was a grand revolution." 
 
 midst of which, it suddenly struck him, the 
 deaf-mute had come, contriving somehow to 
 make the nurse understand that the king 
 was dead, and she need have no fear in 
 going back to the capital, where there was 
 
 mi 
 
 \V'**£ 
 
 ist'7 
 
180 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 a grand revolution, and every thing turned 
 upside down. So, of course, she had gone. 
 
 " I hope she'll enjoy it, miserable woman 
 — if they don't cut off her nsad too." 
 
 And then a kind of remorse smote him 
 for feeling so bitterly toward her, after all 
 the years she had taken care of him — 
 grudgingly, perhaps, and coldly; still she 
 had taken care of him, and that even to the 
 last ; for, as I have said, all his four rooms 
 were as tidy as possible, and his meals laid 
 out, that he might have no more trouble 
 than could be helped. 
 
 " Possibly she did not mean to be cruel. 
 I won't judge her," said he. And after- 
 ward he was very glad that he had so deter- 
 mined. 
 
 For the second time he tried to dress 
 himself, and then to do every thing he 
 could for himself — even to sweeping up the 
 hearth and putting on more coals. " It's a 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 181 
 
 funny thing for a prince to have to do," said 
 he, laughing. " But my godmother once 
 said princes need -never mind doing any 
 thing." 
 
 And then he thought a little of his god- 
 mother. Not of summoning her, or asking 
 her to help him — she had evidently left him 
 to help himself, and he was determined to try 
 his best to do it, being a very proud and in- 
 dependent boy — but he remembered her 
 tenderly and regretfully, as if even she had 
 been a little hard upon him — poor, forlorn 
 boy that he was. But he seemed to have 
 seen and learned so much within the last 
 few days that he scarcely felt like a boy, but 
 a man — until he went to bed at night. 
 
 When I was a child, T used often to think 
 how nice it would be to live in a little house 
 all by my own self — a house built high up 
 in a tree, or far away in a forest, or half-way 
 up a hill-side — so deliciously alone and hide- 
 
182 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 ;* 
 
 pendent. ISTot a lesson to learn — but no ! I 
 always liked learning my lessons. Any 
 how, to choose the lessons I liked best, to 
 have as many books to read and dolls to 
 play with as ever I wanted : above all, to be 
 free and at rest, with nobody to tease or 
 trouble or scold me, would be charming. 
 For I was a lonely little thing, who liked 
 quietness — as many children do; which 
 other children, and sometimes grown-up 
 people even, can not understand. And so 
 I can understand Prince Dolor. 
 
 After his first despair, he was not merely 
 comfortable , but actually happy in his solitude, 
 doing every thing for himself, and enjoying 
 every thing by himself — until bed-time. 
 
 Then he did not like it at all. No more, 
 I suppose, than other children would have 
 liked my imaginary house in a tree, when 
 they had had sufficient of their own com- 
 pany. 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 183 
 
 But the Piince had to bear it — and he 
 did bear it, like a prince— for fully five 
 days. All that time he got up in the morn- 
 ing and went to bed at night without having 
 spoken to a creature, or, indeed, heard a 
 single sound, For even his little lark was 
 silent; and as for his traveling-cloak, either 
 he never thought about it, or else it had 
 been spirited away — for he made no use of 
 it, nor attempted to do so. 
 
 A very strange existence it was, those five 
 lonely days. He never entirely forgot it. 
 It threw him back upon himself, and into 
 himself — in a way that all of us have to 
 learn when we grow up, and are the better 
 for it ; but it is somewhat hard learning. 
 
 On the sixth day Prince Dolor had a 
 
 strange composure in his look, but he was 
 
 very grave and thin and white. He had 
 
 nearly come to the end of his provisions — 
 
 and what was to happen next ? Get out of 
 12 
 
184 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 the tower he could not : the ladder the deaf- 
 mute used was always carried away again; 
 and if it had not been, how could the poor 
 boy have used it ? And even if he slung or 
 flung himself down, and by miraculous 
 chance came alive to the foot of the tower, 
 how could he run away ? 
 
 Fate had been very hard to him, or so it 
 seemed. 
 
 He made up his mind to die. ISTot that 
 he wished to die ; on the contrary, there was 
 a great deal that he wished to live to do; 
 but if he must die, he must. Dying did not 
 seem so very dreadful ; not even to lie quiet 
 like his uncle, whom he had entirely for- 
 given now, and neither be miserable nor 
 naughty any more, and escape all those hor- 
 rible things that he had seen going on out- 
 side the palace, in that awful place which 
 was called " the world." 
 
 " It's a great deal nicer here," said the 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 185 
 
 *♦&» 
 
 [\}» 
 
 
 poor little Prince, and collected all his pretty 
 things round him : his favorite pictures, 
 which he thought he should like to have 
 near him when he died ; his books and toys 
 — no, he had ceased to care for toys now; 
 he only liked them because he had done so 
 as a child. And there he sat very calm 
 and patient, like a king in his castle, waiting 
 for the end. 
 
 " Still, I wish I had done something first 
 — something worth doing, that somebody 
 might remember me by," thought he. 
 " Suppose I had grown a man, and had had 
 work to do, and people to care for, and was 
 so useful and busy that they liked me, and 
 perhaps even forgot I was lame ? Then it 
 would have been nice to live, I think." 
 
 A tear came into the little fellow's eyes, 
 and he listened intently through the dead 
 silence for some hopeful sound. 
 
 Was there one? — was it his little lark, 
 
186 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 whom he had almost forgotten ? No, 
 nothing half so sweet. But it really was 
 something — something which came nearer 
 and nearer, so that there was no mistaking 
 it. It was the sound of a trumpet, one of 
 the great silver trumpets so admired in No- 
 mansland. Not pleasant music, but very 
 bold, grand, and inspiring. 
 
 As he listened to it the boy seemed to re- 
 call many things which had slipped his 
 memory for years, and to nerve himself for 
 whatever might be going to happer 
 
 What had happened was this. 
 
 The poor condemned woman haa not 
 been such a wicked woman after all. Per- 
 haps her courage was not wholly disinter- 
 ested, but she had done a very heroic thing. 
 As soon as she heard of the death and bur- 
 ial of the King, and of the changes that 
 were taking place in the country, a daring 
 idea came into her head — to set upon the 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 187 
 
 throne of Nomansland its rightful heir. 
 Thereupon she persuaded the deaf-mute to 
 take her away with him, and they galloped 
 like the wind from city to city, spreading 
 every where the news that Prince Dolor's 
 death and burial had been an invention con- 
 cocted by his wicked uncle — that he was 
 alive and well, and the noblest young 
 Prince that ever was born. 
 
 It was a bold stroke, but it succeeded. 
 The country, weary perhaps of the late 
 King's harsh rule, and yet glad to save it- 
 self from the horrors of the last few days, 
 and the still further horrors of no rule at 
 all, and having no particular interest in the 
 other young princes, jumped at the idea of 
 this Prince, who was the son of their late 
 good King and the beloved Queen Dolorez. 
 
 " Hurrah for Prince Dolor ! Let Prince 
 Dolor be our sovereign !" rang from end to 
 end of the kingdom. Every body tried to 
 
188 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 remember what a dear baby he once was — 
 how like his mother, who had been so sweet 
 and kind, and his father, the finest-looking 
 king that ever reigned. Nobody remem- 
 bered his lameness — or, if they did, they 
 passed it over as a matter of no conse- 
 quence. They were determined to have 
 him to reign over them, boy as he was — 
 perhaps just because he was a boy, since in 
 that case the great nobles thought they 
 should be able to do as they liked with the 
 country. 
 
 Accordingly, with a fickleness not con- 
 fined to the people of Nomansland, no 
 sooner was the late King laid in his grave 
 than they pronounced him to have been a 
 usurper; turned all his family out of the 
 palace, and left it empty for the reception 
 of the new sovereign, whom they went to 
 fetch with great rejoicing, a select body of 
 lords, gentlemen, and soldiers traveling 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 189 
 
 night and day in solemn procession through 
 the country until they reached Hopeless 
 Tower. 
 
 There they found the Prince, sitting 
 calmly on the floor — deadly pale, indeed, 
 for he expected a quite different end from 
 this, and was resolved, if he had to die, to 
 die courageously, like a Prince and a King. 
 
 But when they hailed him as Prince and 
 King, and explained to him how matters 
 stood, and went down on their knees before 
 him, offering the crown (on a velvet cush- 
 ion, with four golden tassels, each nearly as 
 big as his head) — small though he was and 
 lame, which lameness the courtiers pre- 
 tended not to notice — there came such a 
 glow into his face, such a dignity into his de- 
 meanor, that he became beautiful, king-like. 
 
 " Yes," he* said, " if you desire it, I will 
 be your king. And I will do my best to 
 make my people happy." 
 
190 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 Then there arose, from inside and outside 
 the tower, such a shout as never yet was 
 heard across the lonely plain. 
 
 Prince Dolor shrank a little from the 
 deafening sound. " How shall I be able to 
 rule all this great people ? You forget, my 
 lords, that I am only a little boy still." 
 
 " Not so very little," was the respectful 
 answer. " We have searched in the records, 
 and found that your Royal Highness — your 
 Majesty, I mean — is precisely fifteen years 
 old." 
 
 " Am I ?" said Prince Dolor ; and his first 
 thought was a thoroughly childish pleasure 
 that he should now have a birthday, with a 
 whole nation to keep it. Then he remem- 
 bered that his childish days were done. He 
 was a monarch now. Even his nurse, to 
 whom, the moment he saw her, he had held 
 out his hand, kissed it reverently, and called 
 him ceremoniously " his Majesty the King." 
 
"They went down on their knees before him, offering him the crown 
 on a velvet cushion," 
 
 (191) 
 
i 
 
 35 
 
 fp 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 193 
 
 " A king must be always a king, I sup- 
 pose," said he half sadly, when, the cere- 
 monies over, he had been left to himself for 
 just ten minutes, to put off his boy's clothes 
 and be reattired in magnificent robes, be- 
 fore he was conveyed away from his tower 
 to the royal palace. 
 
 He could take nothing with him ; indeed, 
 he soon saw that, however politely they 
 spoke, they would not allow him to take 
 any thing. If he was to be their king, he 
 must give up his old life forever. So he 
 looked w T ith tender farewell on his old 
 books, old toys, the furniture he knew so 
 well, and the familiar plain in all its level- 
 ness — ugly yet pleasant, simply because it 
 was familiar. 
 
 " It will be a new life in a new world," 
 said he to himself; " but I'll remember the 
 old things still. And, oh ! if before I go I 
 could but once see my dear old godmother." 
 
194 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 While he spoke he had laid himself down 
 on the bed for a minute or two, rather tired 
 fidth his grandeur, and confused by the noise 
 of the trumpets which kept playing inces- 
 santly down below. He gazed, half sadly, 
 up to the sky-light, whence there came pour- 
 ing a stream of sun-rays, with innumerable 
 motes floating there, like a bridge thrown 
 between heaven and earth. Sliding down 
 it, as if she had been made of air, came the 
 little old woman in gray. 
 
 So beautiful looked she — old as she was 
 — that Prince Dolor was at first quite 
 startled by the apparition. Then he held 
 out his arms in eager delight. 
 
 " Oh, godmother, you have not forsaken 
 me!" 
 
 " Not at all, my son. You may not have 
 seen me, but I have seen you many a time." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " Oh, never mind. I can turn into any 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 195 
 
 thing I please, you know. And I have 
 been a bearskin rug, and a crystal goblet — 
 and sometimes I have changed from inani- 
 mate to animate nature, put on feathers, and 
 made myself very comfortable as a bird." 
 
 " Ha !" laughed the Prince, a new light 
 breaking in upon him 5 as he caught the 
 infection of her tone, lively and mischievous, 
 " Ha, ha ! a lark, for instance ?" 
 
 " Or a magpie/' answered she, with a 
 capital imitation of Mistress Mag's croakj 
 voice. " Do you suppose I am always 
 sentimental, and never funny? If any 
 thing makes you happy, gay, or grave, don't 
 you think it is more than likely to come 
 through your old godmother ?" 
 
 " I believe that," said the boy tenderly, 
 holding out his arms. They clasped one 
 another in a close embrace. 
 
 Suddenly Prince Dolor looked very anx- 
 ious. " You will not leave me, now that I 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 am a king ? Otherwise I had rather not be 
 a king at all. Promise never to forsake 
 me!" 
 
 The little old woman laughed gayly. 
 " Forsake you ? that is impossible. But it 
 is just possible you may forsake me. Not 
 probable, though. Your mother never did, 
 and she was a queen. The sweetest queen 
 in all the world was the Lady Dolorez." 
 
 " Tell me about her," said the boy eagerly. 
 " As I get older I think I can understand 
 more. Do tell me." 
 
 " Not now. You couldn't hear me for 
 the trumpets and the shouting. But when 
 you are come to the palace, ask for a long- 
 closed upper room, which looks out upon 
 the Beautiful Mountains ; open it and take 
 it for your own. Whenever you go there 
 you will always find me, and we will talk 
 together about all sorts of things." 
 
 " And about my mother?" 
 

 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 197 
 
 ?A 
 
 The little old woman nodded — and kept 
 nodding and smiling to herself many times, 
 as the boy repeated over and over again the 
 sweet words he had never known or under- 
 stood — " my mother — my mother." 
 
 " Now I must go," said she, as the trum- 
 pets blared louder and louder, and the 
 shouts of the people showed that they 
 would not endure any delay. " Good-by, 
 Good-by ! Open the window and out I 
 
 fly-" 
 
 Prince Dolor repeated gayly the musical 
 rhyme — but all the while tried to hold his 
 godmother fast. 
 
 Vain, vain ! for the moment that a knock- 
 ing was heard at his door the sun went be- 
 hind a cloud, the bright stream of dancing 
 motes vanished, and the little old woman 
 with them — he knew not where. 
 
 So Prince Dolor quitted his tower — 
 which he had entered so mournfully and 
 
198 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 ignominiously as a little helpless baby car- 
 ried in the deaf-mute's arms — quitted it as 
 the great king of Nomansland. 
 
 The only thing he took away with him 
 was something so insignificant that none of 
 the lords, gentlemen, and soldiers who es- 
 corted him with such triumphant splendor 
 could possibly notice it — a tiny bundle, 
 which he had found lying on the floor just 
 where the bridge of sunbeams had rested. 
 At once he had pounced upon it, and thrust 
 it secretly into his bosom, where it dwindled 
 into such small proportions that it might 
 have been taken for a mere chest-comforter, 
 a bit of flannel, or an old pocket-handker- 
 chief. 
 
 It was his traveling-cloak ! 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 199 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 Did Prince Dolor become a great king ? 
 Was he, though little more than a boy, " the 
 father of his people," as all kings ought to 
 be? Did his reign last long — long and 
 happy ? and what were the principal events 
 of it, as chronicled in the history of Nb- 
 mansland ? 
 
 "Why, if I were to answer all these ques- 
 tions I should have to write another book. 
 And I'm tired, children, tired — as grown-up 
 people sometimes are, though not always 
 with play. (Besides, I have a small person 
 belonging to me, who, though she likes ex- 
 tremely to listen to the word-of-mouth story 
 of this book, grumbles much at the writing 
 of it, and has run about the house clapping 
 
 her hands with joy when mamma told her 
 13 
 
200 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 that it was nearly finished. But that is 
 neither here nor there.) 
 
 I have related, as well as I could, the his- 
 tory of Prince Dolor, but with the history 
 of Nomansland I am as yet unacquainted. 
 If any body knows it, perhaps he or she will 
 kindly write it all down in another book. 
 But mine is done. 
 
 However, of this I am sure, that Prince 
 Dolor made an excellent king. Nobody 
 ever does any thing less well, not even the 
 commonest duty of common daily life, for 
 having such a godmother as the little old 
 woman clothed in gray, whose name is — 
 well, I leave you to guess. Nor, I think, is 
 any body less good, less capable of both 
 work and enjoyment in after-life, for having 
 been a little unhappy in his youth, as the 
 Prince had been. 
 
 I can not take upon myself to say that he 
 was always happy now — who is? — or that 
 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 201 
 
 he had no cares; just show me the person 
 who is quite free from them ! But when- 
 ever people worried and bothered him — as 
 they did sometimes, with state etiquette, 
 state squabbles, and the like, setting up 
 themselves and pulling down their neigh- 
 bors — he would take refuge in that upper 
 room which looked out on the Beautiful 
 Mountains, and, laying his head on his 
 godmother's shoulder, become calmed and 
 at rest. 
 
 Also, she helped him out of any difficulty 
 which now and then occurred — for there 
 never was such a wise old woman. When 
 the people of Nomansland raised the alarm 
 — as sometimes they did — for what people 
 can exist without a little fault-finding? — 
 and began to cry out, " Unhappy is the na- 
 tion whose king is a child," she would say 
 to him gently, " You are a child. Accept 
 the fact. Be humble — be teachable. Lean 
 
20J 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 upon the wisdom of others till you have 
 gained jour own." 
 
 He did so. He learned how to take ad- 
 vice before attempting to give it, to obey 
 before he could righteously command. He 
 assembled round him all the good and wise 
 of his kingdom — laid ail its affairs before 
 them, and was guided by their opinions 
 until he had maturely formed his own. 
 
 This he did sooner than any body would 
 have imagined who did not know of his 
 godmother and his traveling-cloak — two 
 secret blessings, which, though many 
 guessed at, nobody quite understood. Nor 
 did they understand why he loved so the 
 little upper room, except that it had been 
 his mother's room, from the window of 
 which, as people remembered now, she had 
 used to sit for hours watching the Beautiful 
 Mountains. 
 
 Out of that window he used to fly — not 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 203 
 
 very often; as he grew older, the labors of 
 state prevented the frequent use of his 
 traveling-cloak; still he did use it some- 
 times. Only now it was less for his own 
 pleasure and amusement than to see some- 
 thing or investigate something for the good 
 of the country. But he prized his god- 
 mother's gift as dearly as ever. It was a 
 comfort to him in all his vexations ; an en- 
 hancement of all his joys. It made him 
 almost forget his lameness — which was 
 never cured. 
 
 However, the cruel things which had 
 been once foreboded of him did not happen. 
 His misfortune was not such a heavy one 
 after all. It proved to be of much less in- 
 convenience, even to himself, than had been 
 feared. A council of eminent surgeons and 
 mechanicians invented for him a wonderful 
 pair of crutches, with the help of which, 
 though he never walked easily or grace- 
 
204 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 fully, lie did manage to walk so as to be quite 
 independent. And such was the love his 
 people bore him that they never heard the 
 sound of his crutches on the marble palace- 
 floors without a leap of the heart, for they 
 knew that good was coming to them, when- 
 ever he approached them. 
 
 Thus, though he never walked in proces- 
 sions, never reviewed his troops mounted 
 on a magnificent charger, nor did any of the 
 things which make a show monarch so 
 much appreciated, he was able for all the 
 duties and a great many of the pleasures of 
 his rank. When he held his levees, not 
 standing, but seated on a throne ingeni- 
 ously contrived to hide his infirmity, the 
 people thronged to greet him; when he 
 drove out through the city streets, shouts 
 followed him wherever he went — every 
 countenance brightened as he passed, and 
 his own, perhaps, was the brightest of all. 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 205 
 
 First, because, accepting his affliction as 
 inevitable, he took it patiently; second, 
 because, being a brave man, he bore it 
 bravely, trying to forget himself, and live 
 out of himself, and in and for other people. 
 Therefore other people grew to love him so 
 well that I think hundreds of his subjects 
 might have been found who were almost 
 ready to die for their poor lame King. 
 
 He never gave them a queen. When 
 they implored him to choose one, he replied 
 that his country was his bride, and he de- 
 sired no other. But, perhaps, the real reason 
 was that he shrank from any change ; and 
 that no wife in all the world would have 
 been found so perfect, so lovable, so tender 
 to him in all his weaknesses, as his beautiful 
 old godmother. 
 
 His four-and-twenty other godfathers and 
 godmothers, or as many of them as were 
 still alive, crowded around him as soon as 
 
r 
 
 206 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 lie ascended the throne. He was very civil 
 to them all, but adopted none of the names 
 they had given him, keeping to the one by 
 which he had been always known, though 
 it had now almost lost its meaning; for 
 King Dolor was one of the happiest and 
 cheerfulest men alive. 
 
 He did a good many things, however, un- 
 like most men and most kings, which a little 
 astonished his subjects. First, he pardoned 
 the condemned woman who had been his 
 nurse, and ordained that from henceforward 
 there should be no such thing as the punish- 
 ment of death in JSTomansland. All capital 
 criminals were to be sent to perpetual im- 
 prisonment in Hopeless Tower and the plain 
 round about it, where they could do no 
 harm to any body, and might in time do a 
 little good, as the woman had done. 
 
 Another surprise he shortly afterward 
 gave the nation. He recalled his uncle's 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 207 
 
 family, who had fled away in terror to 
 another country, and restored them to all 
 their honors in their own. By and hy he 
 chose the eldest son of his eldest cousin 
 (who had been dead a year), and had him 
 educated in the royal palace, as the heir to 
 the throne. This little prince was a quiet, 
 unobtrusive boy, so that every body won- 
 dered at the King's choosing him when 
 there were so many more; but as he grew 
 into a line young fellow, good and brave, 
 thry agreed that the King judged more 
 wisely than they. 
 
 "Not a lame prince, either," his Majesty 
 observed one day, watching him affection- 
 ately ; for he was the best runner, the high- 
 est leaper, the keenest and most active 
 sportsman in the country. " One can not 
 make one's self, but one can sometimes help 
 a little in the making of somebody else. It 
 is well." 
 
208 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 This was said, not to any of his great 
 lords and ladies, but to a good old woman — 
 his first homely nurse — whom he had sought 
 for far and wide, and at last found in her 
 cottage among the Beautiful Mountains. 
 He sent for her to visit him once a year, 
 and treated her with great honor until she 
 died. He was equally kind, though some- 
 what less tender, to his other nurse, who, 
 after receiving her pardon, returned to her 
 native town and grew into a great lady, and 
 I hope a good one. But as she was so 
 grand a personage now, any little faults she 
 had did not show. 
 
 Thus King Dolor's reign passed, year 
 after year, long and prosperous. Whether 
 he were happy — " as happy as a king" — is 
 a question no human being can decide. 
 But I think he was, because he had the 
 power of making every body about him 
 happy, and did it too ; also because he was 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 209 
 
 his godmother's godson, and could shut 
 himself up with her whenever he liked, in 
 that quiet little room in view of the Beauti- 
 ful Mountains, which nobody else ever saw 
 or cared to see. They were too far off, and 
 the city lay so low. But there they were, 
 all the time. No change ever came to 
 them ; and I think, at any day throughout 
 his long reign, the King would sooner have 
 lost his crown than have lost sight of the 
 Beautiful Mountains. 
 
 In course of time, when the little Prince, 
 his cousin, was grown into a tall young 
 man, capable of all the duties of a man, his 
 Majesty did one of the most extraordinary 
 acts ever known in a sovereign beloved by 
 his people and prosperous in his reign. He 
 announced that he wished to invest his heir 
 with the royal purple— at any rate, for a time 
 — while he himself went away on a distant 
 journey, whither he had long desired to go. 
 
210 
 
 The Littie Lame Prince. 
 
 Every body marveled, but nobody op- 
 posed him. Who could oppose the good 
 King, who was not a young king now ? 
 And besides, the nation had a great ad- 
 miration for the young Regent — and, pos- 
 sibly, a lurking pleasure in change. 
 
 So there was fixed a day when all the 
 people whom it would hold assembled in 
 the great square of the capital, to see the 
 young Prince installed solemnly in his new 
 duties, and undertaking his new vows. He 
 was a very fine young fellow: tall and 
 straight as a poplar-tree, with a %tnk, hand- 
 some face — a great deal handsomer than 
 the King, some people said, but others 
 thought differently. However, as his Ma- 
 jesty sat on his throno, with his gray hair 
 falling from underneath his crown, and a 
 few wrinkles showing in spite of his smile, 
 there was something about his countenance 
 which made his people, even while they 
 
 

 rf€^ 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 211 
 
 1 
 
 H 
 
 
 Wfm 
 
 shouted, regard him with a tenderness mixed 
 with awe. He lifted up his thin, slender hand, 
 and there came a silence over the vast crowd 
 immediately. Then he spoke, vol his own 
 accustomed way, using no grand words, but 
 saying what he had to say in the simplest 
 fashion, though with a clearness that struck 
 their ears like the first song of a bird in the 
 dusk of the morning. 
 
 " My people, I am tired : I want to rest. 
 I have had a long reign, and done much 
 work — at least, as much as I was able to 
 do. Many might have done it better than 
 I — but none with a better will. .Now I 
 leave it to others ; I am tired, very tired. 
 Let me go home." 
 
 There arose a murmur — of content or dis- 
 content none could well tell; then it died 
 down again, and the assembly listened 
 silently once more. 
 
 " I am not anxious about you, my people 
 
212 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 — my children," continued the King. "You 
 are prosperous and at peace. I leave you 
 in good hands. The Prince Kegent will be 
 a fitter king for you than I." 
 
 " No, no, no !" rose the universal shout — 
 and those who had sometimes found fault 
 with him shouted louder than any body. 
 But he seemed as if he heard them not. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said he, as soon as the tumult 
 had a little subsided : and his voice sounded 
 firm and clear ; and some very old people, 
 who boasted of having seen him as a child, 
 declared that his face took a sudden change, 
 and grew as young and sweet as that of the 
 little Prince Dolor. " Yes, I must go. It 
 is time for me to go. Remember me some- 
 times, my people, for I have loved you well. 
 And I am going a long way, and I do not 
 think I shall come back any more." 
 
 He drew a little bundle out of his breast 
 pocket — a bundle that nobody had ever 
 
The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 213 
 
 seen before. It was small and shabby- 
 looking, and tied up with many knots, 
 which untied themselves in an instant. 
 With a joyful countenance, he muttered 
 over it a few half-intelligible words. Then, 
 so suddenly that even those nearest to his 
 Majesty could not tell how it came about, 
 the King was away — away — floating right 
 up in the air — upon something, they knew 
 not what, except that it appeared to be as 
 safe and pleasant as the wings of a bird. 
 
 And after him sprang a bird — a dear little 
 lark, rising from whence no one could say, 
 since larks do not usually build their nests 
 in the pavement of city squares. But there 
 it was, a real lark, singing far over their 
 heads, louder and clearer, and more joyful 
 as it vanished further into the blue sky. 
 
 Shading their eyes, and straining their 
 ears, the astonished people stood until the 
 whole vision disappeared like a speck in the 
 
2I 4 
 
 The Little Lame Prince. 
 
 clouds — the rosy clouds that overhung the 
 Beautiful Mountains. Then they guessed that 
 they should see their beloved King no more. 
 Well-beloved as he was, he had always been 
 somewhat of a mystery to them, and such he 
 remained. But they went home, and, accept- 
 ing their new monarch, obeyed him faithfully 
 for his cousin's sake. King Dolor was never 
 again beheld or heard of in his country. But 
 the good he had done there lasted for years ; 
 he was long missed and deeply mourned — 
 at least, so far as any body could mourn 
 one who was gone on such a happy journey 
 
 "Whither he went, or who went with him, 
 it is impossible to say. But I myself believe 
 that his godmother took him on his travel- 
 ing-cloak to the Beautiful Mountains. What 
 he did there, or where he is now, who can tell? 
 I can not. But one thing I am quite sure of, 
 that, wherever he is, he is perfectly happy. 
 
 And so, when I think of him, am I. 
 
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 DICKENS' CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 80 illustra- 
 tions. 
 
 ALFRED THE GREAT, OF ENGLAND. By Jacob Abbott. 40 
 illustrations. 
 
 WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR, OF ENGLAND. By Jacob 
 
 Abbott. 43 illustrations. 
 
4 HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS AND THE DISCOVERY OP 
 AMERICA. 70 illustrations. 
 
 HERNANDO CORTEZ, THE CONQUEROR OF MEXICO. By 
 Jacob Abbott. 30 illustrations. 
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH, OF ENGLAND. By Jacob Abbott. 49 
 illustrations. 
 
 MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS. By Jacob Abbott. 45 illustrations. 
 
 GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR. By Nathaniel Hawthorne. 68 il- 
 lustrations. 
 
 KING CHARLES THE FIRST, OF ENGLAND. By Jacob Ab- 
 bott. 41 illustrations. 
 
 KING CHARLES THE SECOND, OF ENGLAND. By Jacob 
 Abbott. 28 illustrations. 
 
 MADAME ROLAND, A HEROINE OF THE FRENCH REVO- 
 LUTION. By Jacob Abbott. 42 illustrations. 
 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE, QUEEN OF FRANCE. By John S. C. 
 Abbott. 41 illustrations. 
 
 JOSEPHINE, EMPRESS OF FRANCE. By Jacob Abbott. 40 
 illustrations. 
 
 BATTLES OF THE WAR FOR INDEPENDENCE. By Pres^ 
 cott Holmes. 70 illustrations. 
 
 MILITARY HEROES OF THE UNITED STATES. 60 illustra^ 
 tions. 
 
 HEROES OF THE UNITED STATES NAVY. 60 illustrations. 
 
 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 With portraits and illustrations. 
 
 BATTLES OF THE WAR FOR THE UNION. By Prescott 
 Holmes. 80 illustrations. 
 
 FOUNG PEOPLE'S HISTORY OF THE WAR WITH SPAIN. 
 
 50 illustrations. 
 
HENKY ALTEMUS COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. 5 
 
 Altemus' Illustrated 
 
 Mother Goose Series 
 
 series of entirely new editions of the most popular books 
 for young people. Handsomely printed from large, clear 
 type, on choice paper; each volume containing about one 
 hundred illustrations. Half vellum, with illuminated sides 
 (6 7 /s x 8 3 A inches). Price, 50 cents each. 
 
 Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp. — Our Animal Friends. — 
 Beauty and the Beast. — Bird Stories for Little People. 
 — Cinderella; or, The Little Glass Slipper. — The House 
 that Jack Built. — Jack and the Bean-Stalk. — Jack the 
 Giant-Killer. — Little Red Riding Hood. — Puss in Boots. — 
 The Sleeping Beauty. — Who Killed Cock Robin? 
 
 Altemus' Illustrated 
 
 Little Men and Women Series 
 
 A new series for young people, by the best known English 
 and American authors. Profusely illustrated, and with 
 handsome and appropriate bindings. Cloth, 12mo. Price, 
 50 cts. each. 
 
 Black Beauty. By Anna Sewell. 
 
 Hiawatha. By Henry W. Longfellow. 
 
 Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. By 
 
 Lewis Carroll. 
 
 Paul and Virginia. By Sainte Pierre. 
 
6 HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 Altemus' Illustrated Little Men and Women Series, Continued 
 Galopoff, the Talking Pony. By Tudor Jenks. 
 Gypsy, the Talking Dog. By Tudor Jenks. 
 Caps and Capers. By Gabrielle E. Jackson. 
 Doughnuts and Diplomas. By Gabrielle E. Jackson. 
 For Prey and Spoils. By Frederick A. Ober. 
 Tommy Foster's Adventures. By Frederick A. Ober. 
 Tales from Shakespeare. By Charles and Mary Lamb. 
 A Little Rough Rider. By Tudor Jenks. 
 Another Year with Denise and Ned Toodles. By Gabrielle 
 
 E. Jackson. 
 Poor Boys' Chances. By John Habberton. 
 Sea Kings and Naval Heroes. By Hartwell James. 
 Polly Perkins's Adventures. By E. Louise Liddell. 
 Folly in Fairyland. By Carolyn Wells. 
 Folly in the Forest. By Carolyn Wells. 
 The Boy Geologist. By Prof. E. J. Houston. 
 Helen's Babies. By John Habberton. 
 
HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. 7 
 
 Altemus' Illustrated 
 
 Wee Books for Wee Folks 
 
 Filled with charming stories, beautifully illustrated with pic- 
 tures in colors and black and white. Daintily, yet durably 
 bound. Price, 50 cents each. 
 
 Nursery Tales. — Nursery Rhymes. — The Story of Peter Rab- 
 bit. — The Foolish Fox. — Three Little Pigs. — The Robber 
 Kitten. 
 
 Children's Gift Series 
 
 A new series of the most famous children's classics, in new 
 and attractive bindings with full page illustrations in color 
 and black and white. Cloth, 4to, 75 cents each. 
 
 Alice's Adventures ix Wonderland. — Through the Lookixg 
 Glass axd What Alice Fouxd There. — A Child's Garden 
 of Yerses. — Mother Goose's Rhymes, Jixgles and Fairy 
 Tales. — Swiss Family Robixsox. — The Advextures of 
 Robixsox Crusoe. — Grimm's Fairy Tales. — Andersex's 
 Fairy Tales. — Bible Pictures axd Stories. — Animal Sto- 
 ries for Little People. 
 
 One-Syllable Series 
 
 For Young Readers 
 
 Embracing popular works arranged for the young folks in 
 words of one syllable. With numerous illustrations by 
 the best artists. Handsomely bound, with illuminated 
 covers. Price, 50 cents each. 
 
 iEsop's Fables. — A Child's Life of Christ. — The Adventures 
 of Robixsox Crusoe. — Buxyan's Pilgrim's Progress. — 
 Swiss Family Robixsox. — Gulliver's Travels. — A Child's 
 Story of the Old Testamext. — A Child 's Story of the 
 New Testamext. — Bible Stories for Little Childrex.— 
 The Story of Jesus. 
 
8 HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 Altemus , Illustrated 
 
 Dainty Series of Choice Gift Books 
 
 Bound in half-white vellum, illuminated sides, unique designs 
 in gold and colors, with numerous half-tone illustrations. 
 Price, 50 cents each. 
 
 The Silver Buckle. By M. Nataline Crumpton 
 
 Charles Dickens' Children Stories. 
 
 The Children's Shakespeare. 
 
 Young Robin Hood. By G. Manville Fenn. 
 
 Honor Bright. By Mary C. Bowsell. 
 
 The Voyage of the Mary Adair. By Frances E. Crompton. 
 
 The Kingfisher's Egg. By L. T. Meade. 
 
 Tattine. By Buth Ogden. 
 
 The Doings of a Dear Little Couple. By Mary D. Brine. 
 
 Our Soldier Boy. By G. Manville Fenn. 
 
 The Little Skipper. By G. Manville Fenn. 
 
 Little Gervaise and Other Stories. 
 
 The Christmas Fairy. By John Strange Winter. 
 
 Molly the Drummer Boy. By Harriet T. Comstoek. 
 
 How a "Dear Little Couple" Went Abroad. By Mary D. 
 
 Brine. 
 The Eose-Carnation. By Frances E. Crompton. 
 Mother's Little Man. By Mary D. Brine. 
 Little Swan Maidens. By Frances E. Crompton. 
 Little Lady Val. By Evelyn Everett Green. 
 A Young Hero. By G. Manville Fenn. 
 Queen of the Day. By L. T. Meade. 
 That Little French Baby. By John Strange Winter. 
 The Powder Monkey. By G. Manville Fenn. 
 The Doll that Talked. By Tudor Jenks. 
 What Charlie Found to Do. By Amanda M. Douglas. 
 
. HENEY ALTEMUS COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. 9 
 
 Altemus' 
 
 Young Folks Puzzle Pictures' Series 
 
 A new series for young people, including numerous Puzzle 
 Pictures by the best artists. Full cloth, illuminated cover 
 design. Price, 50 cents each. 
 
 Mother Goose's Puzzle Pictures. 
 
 The Tale of Peter Eabbit, with Puzzle Pictures. 
 
 Animal Tales, with Puzzle Pictures. 
 
 The Night Before Christmas, with Puzzle Pictures. 
 
 Dog Tales, Cat Tales and Other Tales, with Puzzle Picturfs* 
 
 Altemus' Illustrated 
 
 Mother Stories Series 
 
 An entirely new series, including the best stories that mothers 
 can tell their children. Handsomely printed and profusely 
 illustrated. Ornamental cloth. Price, 50 cents each. 
 
 Mother Stories. 89 illustrations. 
 
 Mother Nursery Ehtmes and Tales. 135 illustrations. 
 
 Mother Fairy Tales. 117 illustrations. 
 
 Mother Nature Stories. 97 illustrations. 
 
 Mother Stories from the Old Testament. 45 illustrations. 
 
 Mother Stories from the New Testament. 45 illustrations. 
 
 Mother Bedtime Stories. 86 illustrations. 
 
 Mother Animal Stories. 92 illustrations. 
 
 Mother Bird Stories. 131 illustrations. 
 
 Mother Santa Claus Stories. 91 illustrations. 
 
The Motor Boat Club Series 
 
 By H. IRVING HANCOCK 
 
 The keynote of these books is manliness. The stories are wonder- 
 fully entertaining, and they are at the same time sound and whole- 
 some. No boy will willingly lay down an unfinished book in this 
 series. 
 
 i THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB OF THE KENNEBEC; Or, The 
 Secret of Smugglers' Island. 
 
 2 THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB AT NANTUCKET; Or, The Mys- 
 
 tery of the Dunstan Heir. 
 
 3 THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB OFF LONG ISLAND; Or, A Dar- 
 
 ing Marine Game at Racing Speed. 
 
 4 THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB AND THE WIRELESS; Or, The 
 
 Dot. Dash and Dare Cruise. 
 
 5 THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB IN FLORIDA; Or, Laying the 
 
 Ghost of Alligator Swamp. 
 
 6 THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB AT THE GOLDEN £ATE ; Or, A 
 
 Thrilling Capture in the Great Fog. 
 
 7 THE MOTOR BOAT CLUB ON THE GREAT LAKES; Or, 
 
 The Flying Dutchman of the Big Fresh Water. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
 The Range and Grange Hustlers 
 
 By FRANK GEE PATCHIN 
 
 Have you any idea of the excitements, the glories of life on great 
 ranches in the West? Any bright boy will "devour" the books of 
 this series, once he has made a start with the first volume. 
 
 1 THE RANGE AND GRANGE HUSTLERS ON THE RANCH ; 
 Or, The Boy Shepherds of the Great Divide. 
 
 a THE RANGE AND GRANGE HUSTLERS' GREATEST 
 ROUND-UP; Or, Pitting Their Wits Against a Packers' 
 Combine. 
 
 3 THE RANGE AND GRANGE HUSTLERS ON THE PLAINS; 
 
 Or, Following the Steam Plows Across the Prairie. 
 
 4 THE RANGE AND GRANGE HUSTLERS AT CHICAGO; 
 
 Or, The Conspiracy of the Wheat Pit. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
Submarine Boys Series 
 
 By VICTOR G. DURHAM 
 
 These splendid books for boys and girls deal with life aboard sub- 
 marine torpedo boats, and with the adventures of the young crew, 
 and possess, in addition to the author's surpassing knack of story- 
 telling, a great educational value for all young readers. 
 
 i THE SUBMARINE BOYS ON DUTY; Or, Life on a Diving 
 Torpedo Boat. 
 
 2 THE SUBMARINE BOYS' TRIAL TRIP; Or, "Making Good" 
 
 as Young Experts. 
 
 3 THE SUBMARINE BOYS AND THE MIDDIES; Or, The 
 
 Prize Detail at Annapolis. 
 
 4 THE SUBMARINE BOYS AND THE SPIES; Or, Dodging 
 
 the Sharks of the Deep. 
 
 5 THE SUBMARINE BOYS' LIGHTNING CRUISE; Or, The 
 
 Young Kings of the Deep. 
 
 6 THE SUBMARINE BOYS FOR THE FLAG; Or, Deeding 
 
 Their Lives to Uncle Sam. 
 
 7 THE SUBMARINE BOYS AND THE SMUGGLERS; Or ; 
 
 Breaking Up the New Jersey Customs Frauds. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
 The Square Dollar Boys Series 
 
 By H. IRVING HANCOCK 
 
 The reading boy will be a voter within a few years ; these books 
 are bound to make him think, and when he casts his vote he will 
 do it more intelligently for having read these volumes. 
 
 1 THE SQUARE DOLLAR BOYS WAKE UP ; Or, Fighting the 
 
 Trolley Franchise Steal. 
 
 2 THE SQUARE DOLLAR BOYS SMASH THE RING; Or, In 
 
 the Lists Against the Crooked Land Deal. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
 Ben Lightbody Series 
 
 By WALTER BENHAM 
 
 1 BEN LIGHTBODY, SPECIAL; Or, Seizing His First Chance 
 
 to Make Good. 
 
 2 BEN LIGHTBODY'S BIGGEST PUZZLE; Or, Running the 
 
 Double Ghost to Earth. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
Pony Rider Boys Series 
 
 By FRANK GEE PATCHIN 
 
 These tales may be aptly described as those of a new Cooper. In 
 every sense they belong to the best class of books for boys and girls. 
 
 i THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE ROCKIES ; Or, The Secret 
 of the Lost Claim. 
 
 2 THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN TEXAS; Or, The Veiled Riddle 
 
 of the Plains. 
 
 3 THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN MONTANA; Or, The Mystery 
 
 of the Old Custer Trail. 
 
 I THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE OZARKS ; Or, The Secret 
 of Ruby Mountain. 
 
 5 THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE ALKALI ; Or, Finding a 
 
 Key to the Desert Maze. 
 
 6 THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN NEW MEXICO; Or, The End 
 
 of the Silver Trail. 
 
 7 THE PONY RIDER BOYS IN THE GRAND CANYON; Or, 
 
 The Mystery of Bright Angel Gulch. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
 The Boys of Steel Series 
 
 By JAMES R. MEARS 
 
 The author has made of these volumes a series of romances with 
 scenes laid in the iron and steel world. Each book presents a vivid 
 picture of some phase of this great industry. The information given 
 is exact and truthful ; above all, each story is full of adventure and 
 fascination. 
 
 1 THE IRON BOYS IN THE MINES ; Or, Starting at the Bot- 
 
 tom of the Shaft. 
 
 2 THE IRON BOYS AS FOREMEN ; Or, Heading the Diamond 
 
 Drill Shift. 
 
 3 THE IRON BOYS ON THE ORE BOATS ; Or, Roughing It on 
 
 the Great Lakes. 
 
 4 THE IRON BOYS IN THE STEEL MILLS; Or, Beginning 
 
 Anew in the Cinder Pits. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
West Point Series 
 
 By H. IRVING HANCOCK 
 
 The principal characters in these narratives are manly, young 
 Americans whose doings will inspire all boy readers, 
 i DICK PRESCOTT'S FIRST YEAR AT WEST POINT; Or, 
 
 Two Chums in the Cadet Gray. 
 2. DICK PRESCOTT'S SECOND YEAR AT WEST POINT ; Or, 
 
 Finding the Glory of the Soldier's Life. 
 
 3 DICK PRESCOTT'S THIRD YEAR AT WEST POINT; Or, 
 
 Standing Firm for Flag and Honor. 
 
 4 DICK PRESCOTT'S FOURTH YEAR AT WEST POINT ; Or, 
 
 Ready to Drop the Gray for Shoulder Straps. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
 Annapolis Series 
 
 By H. IRVING HANCOCK 
 
 The Spirit of the new Navy is delightfully and truthfully depicted 
 in these volumes. 
 
 1 DAVE DARRIN'S FIRST YEAR AT ANNAPOLIS; Or, Two 
 
 Plebe Midshipmen at the U. S. Naval Academy. 
 
 2 DAVE DARRIN'S SECOND YEAR AT ANNAPOLIS; Or, 
 
 Two Midshipmen as Naval Academv "Youngsters." 
 
 3 DAVE DARRIN'S THIRD YEAR AT ANNAPOLIS; Or, Lead- 
 
 ers of the Second Class Midshipmen. 
 
 4 DAVE DARRIN'S FOURTH YEAR AT ANNAPOLIS; Or, 
 
 Headed for Graduation and the Big Cruise. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
 The Young Engineers Series 
 
 By H. IRVING HANCOCK 
 
 The heroes of these stories are known to readers of the High 
 School Boys Series. In this new series Tom Reade and Harry 
 Hazelton prove worthy of all the traditions of Dick &. Co. 
 
 1 THE YOUNG ENGINEERS IN COLORADO ; Or, At Railroad 
 
 Building in Earnest. 
 
 2 THE YOUNG ENGINEERS IN ARIZONA; Or, Laying Tracks 
 
 on the "Man-Killer" Ouicksand. 
 
 3 THE YOUNG ENGINEERS IN NEVADA; Or, Seeking For- 
 
 tune on the Turn of a Pick. 
 
 4 THE YOUNG ENGINEERS IN MEXICO; Or, Fighting the 
 
 Mine Swindlers. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c, 
 
Boys of the Army Series 
 
 By H. IRVING HANCOCK 
 
 These books breathe the life and spirit of the United States Army 
 of to-day, and the life, just as it is, is described by a master pen. 
 i UNCLE SAM'S EOYS IN THE RANKS; Or, Two Recruits in 
 the United States Army. 
 
 2 UNCLE SAM'S BOYS ON FIELD DUTY; Or, Winning Cor- 
 
 poral's Chevrons. 
 
 3 UNCLE SAM'S BOYS AS SERGEANTS; Or, Handling Their 
 
 First Real Commands. 
 
 4 UNCLE SAM'S BOYS IN THE PHILIPPINES; Or, Follow- 
 
 ing the Flag Against the Moros. 
 
 {Other volumes to follow rapidly.) 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
 Battleship Boys Series 
 
 By FRANK GEE PATCHIN 
 
 These stories throb with the life of young Americans on to-day's 
 huge drab Dreadnaughts. 
 
 1 THE BATTLESHIP BOYS AT SEA; Or, Two Apprentices in 
 
 Uncle Sam's Navy. 
 
 2 THE BATTLESHIP BOYS FIRST STEP UPWARD; Or, 
 
 Winning 1 heir Grades as Petty Officers. 
 
 3 THE BATTLESHIP BOYS IN FOREIGN SERVICE; Or, 
 
 Earning New Ratings in European Seas. 
 
 4 THE BATTLESHIP BOYS IN THE TROPICS; Or, Uphold- 
 
 ing the American Flag in a Honduras Revolution. 
 {Other volumes to follozv rapidly.) 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
 The Meadow-Brook Girls Series 
 
 By JANET ALDRIDGE 
 
 Real live stories pulsing with the vibrant atmosphere of outdoor 
 life. 
 
 1 THE MEADOW-BROOK GIRLS UNDER CANVAS; Or, Fun 
 
 and Frolic in the Summer Camp. 
 
 2 THE MEADOW-BROOK GIRLS ACROSS COUNTRY; Or, 
 
 The Young Pathfinders on a Summer Hike. 
 
 3 THE MEADOW-BROOK GIRLS AFLOAT; Or, The Stormy 
 
 Cruise of the Red Rover. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
High School Boys Series 
 
 By H. IRVING HANCOCK 
 
 In this series of bright, crisp books a new note has been struck. 
 
 Boys of every age under sixty will be interested in these fascinat- 
 ing volumes. 
 
 i THE HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMEN; Or, Dick & Co.'s First 
 Year Pranks and Sports. 
 
 2 THE HIGH _ SCHOOL PITCHER; Or, Dick & Co. on the 
 
 Gridlev Diamond. 
 
 3 THE HIGH SCHOOL LEFT END; Or, Dick & Co. Grilling on 
 
 the Football Gridiron. 
 
 4 THE HIGH SCHOOL CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM; Or, Dick & 
 
 Co. Leading the Athletic Vanguard. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c, 
 
 Grammar School Boys Series 
 
 By H. IRVING HANCOCK 
 
 This series of stories, based on the actual doings of grammar 
 school bovs, comes near to the heart of the average American bov. 
 
 1 THE GRAMMAR SCHOOL BOYS OF GRIDLEY ; Or, Dick 
 
 & Co. Start Things Moving. 
 
 2 THE GRAMMAR SCHOOL BOYS SNOWBOUND; Or, Dick 
 
 & Co. at Winter Sports. 
 
 3 THE GRAMMAR SCHOOL BOYS IN THE WOODS; Or, 
 
 Dick & Co. Trail Fun and Knowledge. 
 
 4 THE GRAMMAR SCHOOL BOYS IN SUMMER ATHLETICS; 
 
 Or. Dick & Co. Make Their Fame Secure. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
 HighSchoolBoys'Vacation Series 
 
 By H. IRVING HANCOCK 
 
 "Give us more Dick Prescott books !" 
 
 This has been the burden of the cry from young readers of the 
 country over. Almost numberless letters have been received by the 
 publishers, making this eager demand ; for Dick Prescott, Dave Dar- 
 rin, Tom Reade, and the other members of Dick & Co. are the most 
 popular high school boys in the land. Boys will alternately thrill 
 and chuckle when reading these splendid narratives. 
 
 1 THE HIGH SCHOOL BOYS' CANOE CLUB ; Or, Dick & Co.'s 
 
 Rivals on Lake Pleasant. 
 
 2 THE HIGH SCHOOL BOYS IN SUMMER CAMP; Or, The 
 
 Dick Prescott Six Training for the Gridlev Eleven. 
 
 3 THE HIGH SCHOOL BOYS 1 FISHING TRIP; Or, Dick & Co. 
 
 in the Wilderness. 
 
 4 THE HIGH SCHOOL BOYS' TRAINING HIKE; Or, Dick & 
 
 Co. Making Themselves "Hard as Nails." 
 
 Goth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
The Circus Boys Series 
 
 By EDGAR B. P. DARLINGTON 
 
 Mr. Darlington's books breathe forth every phase of an intensely 
 interesting and exciting life. 
 
 i THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE FLYING RINGS; Or, Making 
 the Start in the Sawdust Life. • 
 
 2 THE CIRCUS BOYS ACROSS THE CONTINENT; Or, Win- 
 
 ning New Laurels on the Tanbark. 
 
 3 THE CIRCUS BOYS IN -DIXIE LAND; Or, Winning the 
 
 Plaudits of the Sunny South. 
 
 4 THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE MISSISSIPPI; Or, Afloat with 
 
 the Big Show on the Big River. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
 The High School Girls Series 
 
 By JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A. M. 
 
 These 1 breezy stories of the x\merican High School Girl take the 
 reader fairly by storm. 
 
 1 GRACE HARLOWE'S PLEBE YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL; 
 
 Or, The Merry Doings of the Oakdale Freshman Girls. 
 
 2 GRACE HARLOWE'S SOPHOMORE YEAR AT HIGH 
 
 SCHOOL; Or, The Record of the Girl Chums in Work and 
 Athletics. 
 
 3 GRACE HARLOWE'S JUNIOR YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL; 
 
 Or, Fast Friends in the Sororities. 
 
 4 GRACE HARLOWE'S SENIOR YEAR AT HIGH SCHOOL; 
 
 Or, The Parting of the Ways. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c. 
 
 The Automobile Girls Series 
 
 By LAURA DENT CRANE 
 
 No girl's library — no family book-case can be' considered at all 
 complete unless it contains these sparkling twentieth-century books. 
 
 1 THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS AT NEWPORT; Or, Watching 
 
 the Summer Parade. 
 
 2 THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS IN THE BERKSHIRES ; Or, 
 
 The Ghost of Lost Man's Trail. 
 
 3 THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS ALONG THE HUDSON; Or, 
 
 Fighting Fire in Sleepy Hollow. 
 
 4 THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS AT CHICAGO ; Or, Winning Out 
 
 Against Heavy Odds. 
 
 5 THE AUTOMOBILE GIRLS AT PALM BEACH ; Or, Proviner 
 
 Their Mettle Under Southern Skies. 
 
 Cloth, Illustrated Price, per Volume, 50c.