He had been reading one 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. He grew melancholy, gazing out of the window-slit. 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 window, up to the sky or down to the plain, how nice it would be! Perhaps when he 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. "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 had been a little white kitten, which the deaf mute, kindly smiling, once took out of his pocket and gave him. For four weeks it was his constant companion and plaything, till one moonlight night it took a fancy for wandering, climbed on to the parapet of the tower, dropped over and disappeared. It was not killed, he hoped; indeed, he almost fancied he saw it pick itself up and scamper away, but he never caught sight of it again. "Yes, I wish I had a person, a real live person, who would be fond of me and kind to me. Oh, I want somebody--dreadfully, dreadfully!" As he spoke, there sounded behind him a slight tap-tap-tap, as of a cane, and twisting himself around, what do you think he saw? A curious little woman, no bigger than he might himself have been, had his legs grown, but she was not a child--she was an old woman with a sweet smile and a soft voice, and was carrying a cane. "My own little boy," she said, "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," replied the Prince. "May I ask you who you are? Perhaps my mother?" [Illustration: AND TWISTING HIMSELF AROUND, WHAT DO YOU THINK HE SAW? [PAGE 16.]] "No, I am not your mother, though she was a dear friend of mine." "Will you tell her to come and see me then?" "She cannot; but I daresay she knows all about you and loves you. I love you, too, and I want to help you, my poor little boy." "Why do you call me poor?" asked Prince Dolor in surprise. The little old woman sighed and glanced down at his legs and feet, which he did not know were different from those of other children, and then to his sweet, bright face. "I 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 so many that I don't know which to choose. 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." So they sat down and played and talked together. "Are you very lonesome here?" asked the little old woman.