He could have looked at her forever--half in love, half in awe; but she
suddenly 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
skylight,--mind, I say OPEN THE SKYLIGHT,--set yourself down in the
middle of it, like a frog on a water-lily leaf; say 'Abracadabra, dum
dum dum,' and--see what will happen!"

The Prince burst into a fit of laughing. It all seemed so exceedingly
silly; he wondered that a wise old woman like his godmother should talk
such nonsense.

"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 child-like 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, dum, dum, dum';
when you want to come back again, say 'Abracadabra, tum tum ti.' That's
all; good-by."