The Little Prince and His Traveling Cloak

The Little Prince and
his Travelling Cloak

by Dinah Dolorez Mulock
Language Learning
Graded Reader
1000 Words
82 Minutes of Free Audio

www.soundpracticelanguagelearning.com
Language Learning
About this book
This story is about a little boy named

Dolor. He was a Prince. When he was just a
baby his mother and father died. Then his
uncle Tom became King. The poor Prince
was sent away to live in a tower for all his
days. Prince Dolor was all alone and just
wanted to have a friend. Then one day, an
old lady came with a magic travelling cloak.
Where is the Audio for the Book?
You can download all the audio here at

the Sound Practice Language Learning
website. You can also download each
chapter from the link at the beginning of
each chapter.
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Language Learning
Contents
About this book ................................ 2
Where is the Audio for the Book? ........ 2
Important Names and Words .............. 5
CHAPTER 1 ...................................... 9
CHAPTER 2 .................................... 18
CHAPTER 3 .................................... 29
CHAPTER 4 .................................... 43
CHAPTER 5 .................................... 53
CHAPTER 6 .................................... 65
CHAPTER 7 .................................... 81
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CHAPTER 8 .................................... 99
Who Wrote the Book? ..................... 113
How was this Graded Reader Made? . 113
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Important Names and Words
King
This is a King.
cloak
This man is
This is a
wearing a
cloak.
cloak.
A Prince is the son of a
Prince King.
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A queen is the mother of a

Prince.
queen A queen is the wife of the
King.
Prince Dolor is a little boy

who cannot walk. His legs
are too short, and he cannot
move them. Prince Dolor’s
Prince Dolor
mother and father die, and
his uncle Tom becomes
King.
Tom is Prince Dolor’s uncle

Tom
(Prince Dolor’s father’s
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brother). He is a bad man

who want to be King.
Nomansland is the name of

the country where Prince
Nomansland
Dolor lives.
This is Prince Dolor’s

Dolorez godmother. She helps
Prince Dolor
a tower
A tower is a tall building. In
this story, Prince Dolor must
live in a tower. There is no
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door and he cannot leave

the tower.
It is a window that opens to
a skylight
the sky.
A mute is a person who
a mute
cannot talk.
A woman who promises to
godmother take care of a child if
his/her parents die.
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CHAPTER 1
(Click here for the audio)
He was the most beautiful Prince that

ever was born. He was healthy. He had
round fat arms. His arms and legs were
straight. He was very healthy.
His father and mother, King and Queen
of Nomansland, and their people were
happy, having waited ten years for a son.
The only person not quite happy was the
King's brother. His name was Tom.
The Prince's name day was to be
important. All the people in the city were
having fun and preparing for the name day.
The rich gave dinners and food for the poor
in the city.
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The only quiet place in the King’s home

was the King’s room, which though the
Prince was six weeks old, his mother, the
Queen, had not left the room to have fun
with the people. Nobody thought she was ill
because she said nothing about it herself,
but lay still and didn't cry, giving no trouble
to anybody. She never told anyone when
she wasn’t feeling well.
The Prince’s name day came at last and

it was as lovely as the Prince himself. All the
people in the King’s home were beautifully
dressed in the clothes which the Queen had
given them.
By six in the morning all the King’s men
and women had dressed themselves in their
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very best clothes. And then the little Prince

was dressed in his best name day clothes,
which he did not like at all, but kicked and
cried. Later when he was feeling better,
they carried him to the bed where the
Queen lay.
She kissed him, and then she gave him
up with a gentle smile, saying she “hoped
he would be very good, that it would be a
very nice name day, and all the people
would enjoy themselves,” and turned
quietly over on her bed. The queen's name
was Dolorez.
Everything went on as if the Queen had
been present. But the Queen stayed in her
bed. All, even the King himself, had grown
used to her not being there, because she
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was not strong, and for years had not joined

in on the fun.
Everybody was happy except the little
Prince, who cried rather quietly under his
name day clothes because it was hard for
him to breath.
Though very few knew it, the Prince, in
coming to the church, had met with an
accident. An important young lady, who
always had to carry him to and from the
church had been so busy with her clothes
with one hand, that she made a mistake
and let him fall. He fell and hit his head. She
picked him up. It was such a small accident.
The baby’s face had turned white, but he
did not cry. No one knew that anything was
wrong. Even if he had cried, the sound of
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music was too loud. It would have been sad

to let anything trouble such a day.
Everyone was having fun.
“It is just like in the stories for children,”
said one little flower-girl to another, “and I
think the only thing the Prince wants now is
a godmother.”
“Does he?” said a soft and kind voice,
and a person no larger than a child was
seen. She was a pleasant little, old, grey-
haired, grey-eyed woman, dressed
all in grey.
“Take care and don't let the baby fall
again.”
The grand nurse jumped, and her face
turned red. “Old woman, you will be kind
enough not to say, 'the baby,' but 'the
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Prince.' Keep away; the Prince is just going

to sleep.”
“I must kiss him; I am his godmother.”

“You!” cried the lady-nurse.
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“You!” cried all the people and the music got

louder.
As everything returned to normal, the
old woman stood on the topmost step and
gave the little Prince three kisses.
“Take yourself out of the way,” cried the
nurse, “or the King will be told
immediately.”
“The King knows nothing of me,” replied
the old woman. “My friend is the King's
wife, the Queen. I know her well, and I love
her and her child. And because you dropped
him, I have chosen to take him for my own.
I am his godmother, ready to help him
whenever he wants me.”
“You help him!” cried the group
laughing. The little old woman paid no
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attention and her soft grey eyes were fixed

on the Prince, who smiled back at her.
“The King will hear of this,” said one of
the King’s men.
“The King will hear quite enough news in
a minute or two,” said the old woman sadly,
kissing the little Prince on the head. “Be
Prince Dolor, in memory of your mother
Dolorez.” Everybody started.
“Old woman, you are not very kind,”
cried a lady. “Even if you did know, why
would you say she is called Dolorez?”
“She was called Dolorez,” said the old
woman sadly. “The Queen is no longer
living. “
One of the King’s men raised a stick to
hit her, and all the rest of the people
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reached out their hands to catch her, but

the grey clothes fell from between their
fingers.
She was gone!
The great bell of the King’s home began
to ring. The bell was only ever heard on the
death of some of the King’s family.
Everyone listened.
The Queen was dead.
When everyone was having fun, she had
passed away. When the little Prince was
carried back to his mother's room, there
was no mother to kiss him.
As for his godmother, the little old
woman in grey, nobody knew what became
of her.
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CHAPTER 2
It could not be said that the Prince

missed his mother. Children of his age
cannot do that. But somehow, after she died
everything seemed to go wrong for him.
He became very white and sickly,
seeming to have almost stopped growing,
especially in his legs, which had been so fat
and strong. But after his name day they got
smaller, and when he was nearly a year old,
and his nurse tried to make him stand, he
would only fall.
This happened so many times that at
last people began to talk about it.
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A Prince? And he can’t stand on his legs!

What sad news for the country!
After a time, he became stronger and
his body grew, but his legs stayed very
small and never grew much. No one talked
of this to the King, for he was very sad.
The King wanted the Prince to keep the
name given him by the little old woman in
grey and so he was known as Dolor, Prince
Dolor.
Once a week, the Prince dressed
in his very best, was brought to the King,
his father, for half an hour, but the King was
too sad to pay much attention to the child.
Then one day the King saw that his son was
different from other boys. The King and his
brother Tom were sitting together, with
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Prince Dolor playing in a corner of the room,

moving himself about with his arms, rather
than his legs.
“How old is the Prince?” the King asked
the nurse.
“Two years, three months, and five
days.”
“I’m not happy at all to see my son like
this,” said the King sadly. Then the King
looked at his brother, Tom. “He ought to be
walking by now. Is there not something
wrong with him?”
“Oh, no,” said Tom. “Nothing to make
my King at all worry about. No doubt the
Prince will not be this way forever.”
“What are you talking about?” asked the
King.
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“The problem with his back. Maybe the

problem came from his mother?”
“Ah, her body was not as strong as the
body of most women; but she was the
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sweetest woman that ever lived. Come

here, my little son.”
The Prince turned to his father. Dolor's
face looked like his mother's, and the King
smiled and held out his arms. But when the
boy came to him, not running like a boy,
but moving along the floor with his arms,
the King didn’t know what to do.
“I should have been told of this. Send
for all the doctors in the country right now.”
Many doctors came, and agreed in what
had been well known before; that
the Prince must have been hurt when he
was a baby.
Did anybody remember?
No, nobody. All the nurses said that no
such accident had never happened.
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The King did not pay much attention to

his son. He could not walk. His legs were
useless to his body. But the body itself was
strong and sound, and his face was the
same as ever. It was just like his mother's
face, one of the sweetest in the world.
Even the King sometimes looked at the
little boy with sadness, noticing how quickly
he learned to move using only his arms. In
a strange way he was like most children his
age.
“Poor little man! He does his best, and
he is not unhappy,” said the King to his
brother, Tom. “Brother, if I die, you must be
King. You must take care of my son.”
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Soon after he said this, the King died, as

suddenly and quietly as the Queen had
done, and Prince Dolor was left without
either father or mother. This was the
saddest thing that could have happened,
even to a Prince.
He was more than that now, though. He
was a King. In Nomansland as in other
countries, the people were so sad one day
and became happy the next. “The King is
dead. Long live the King!” was what could
be heard in the city. Through the country
and almost before the King had been laid
beside the queen, big groups of people
came from all parts to the King’s home.
They wanted to see the new little King.
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They did see him, sitting on the floor of

the King's main room, drinking a bottle of
milk. And when one of the men lifted him up
and carried him to the King’s chair and put
the crown on his head, he shook it off again,
it was so heavy and uncomfortable. Moving
down to the foot of the King's chair, he
began playing with the foot of the chair and
laughing.
Everyone could see that the boy was not
like other children. Everyone could see that
the boy could not walk. The boy was
handicapped.
“It is very unfortunate,” said one of the
lords. “It is always bad for a country when
its King is a child. But such a child… a
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handicapped boy who can't even walk! It's

worse!
“Let us hope not worse,” said another
man sadly, and looking to the King’s
brother, Tom, who stood there quietly as if
he had heard nothing. “I have heard that
these kinds of children. Maybe he will never
be able to be our King. We will need
someone to be King for now…”
Then Prince Dolor's uncle Tom said, “I
promise to be a good King, to take care of
Prince Dolor until he becomes King, and I
will do my best for the country as the King.”
Everyone thought that this was a good
idea. And from that day Uncle Tom was now
King Tom.
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Whenever Tom and his sons appeared,

everyone said, “Long live the King!” and,
“Long live the King’s family!”
As for the other child, Prince Dolor…
somehow people soon stopped calling him
the King. The people probably thought that
Dolor was not really the best boy or man to
be King. His head was too big, and he had
no legs to speak of… he was hardly ever
seen by the people.
If anybody had said that Prince Dolor's
uncle, King Tom, was a bad man, he would
have said that what he did was for the good
of the country. So, one day King Tom told
the country that Prince Tom was sick and
not healthy, and that it would be best to
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send him for a time to the Beautiful

Mountains where his mother was born.
Soon after Prince Dolor was sent away
to get help from the best doctors in the
world.
Later the country learned, without much
surprise, that the poor little Prince had
fallen ill on the road and died within a few
hours. A small body was brought back and
buried with the King and the Queen.
The country was very sad for Prince
Dolor for a while. But soon everyone forgot
him. And King Tom continued being King.
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CHAPTER 3
And what of the little handicapped

Prince, whom everybody seemed so easily
to have forgotten?
Not everybody. There were a few kind
people who had known about his sweet
ways. They often said, “Poor Prince Dolor!”
Or, looking at the Beautiful Mountains,
which they could see all over Nomansland,
though few people ever visited them, “Well,
perhaps Prince Dolor is better where he is.”
They did not know that beyond the
mountains there was a secret land. The land
was between the mountains and the sea. It
was a flat grassy plain. There was a tower in
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the middle of the plain. It was about 30

meters tall.
No one ever came to the plain. No one
ever saw the tower. No one knew about the
tower. Years later people said that the King
had had evil men build the secret tower.
Then the King had the men killed. All the
men were killed so that the tower would
stay a secret.
Within 5 meters from the top there was
a house that was built inside of the tower. It
had windows and four rooms. The house
was about 20 meters from the ground.
Inside there was everything a child could
ever need or want. There were beds, toys,
and books.
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One winter night, when the big round

moon in the sky was white and it was easy
to see on the plain, a black horse came.
Riding the horse was a big man wearing
black clothes. In front of him sat an evil
woman. The man had a baby boy that he
was holding.
King Tom was going to kill the woman
because she had done many bad things. But
instead King Tom decided to send the
woman to take care of the little boy. If the
boy lived the woman could live. If the boy
ever died, the woman would die.
The boy that the man was carrying was
Prince Dolor. He was alive! His body was not
buried next to his mother and father. When
the whole country was sad with the news of
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Prince Dolor's death, the man in black took

the evil woman and Prince Dolor away. King
Tom chose the man because he was a mute.
The man could not hear and could not
speak. The mute would never be able to tell
anyone about Prince Dolor. The woman
would take care of Prince Dolor, but she
would never be free.
When they got to the tower, the mute
used a chain to climb the tower. Then he
put a chair on the chain so that the woman
could come up with Prince Dolor. The mute
helped the woman and boy up to the top of
the tower. Then the mute climbed back
down to his big black horse. He got on his
horse and the man in black rode over the
plain and was gone.
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Every month the mute came back to the

tower to see if Prince Dolor was still alive.
He brought food, drink, and toys each time.
Then he left and returned the next month.
Prince Dolor had everything that even a
Prince could need, but the one thing he
wanted was to be loved. His nurse was very
kind to him, though she was an evil woman.
Perhaps it made her better to be shut up
with a little child.
By-and-by he began to learn lessons,
not that his nurse had been ordered
to teach him, but she did it partly for fun.
She was not a stupid woman, and Prince
Dolor was by no means a stupid child. So,
they got on very well.
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When he grew older, he began reading

the books which the mute brought to
him. As they told him of the things in the
outside world, he wished even more to
see them.
From this time a change came over the
boy. He began to look sad and thin, and to
shut himself up for hours without speaking.
His nurse had been told to never tell him
anything about himself. He knew he was
Prince Dolor, because she always called him
“My Prince,” but he really didn't understand
what a Prince was.
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
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are dying from being hungry. He grew sad,

looking out of the windows.
Not a very cheerful view. It was 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
he could leave. His nurse had told him once
when he was angry that he would never
leave the tower until he died.
“And I wish I had somebody to tell me
all about the world, and about many other
things. I wish I had somebody that would
like me, like my poor white cat.”
Here the tears came into his eyes, for
the boy's one friend had been a little white
cat, which the mute had given him. For four
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weeks it was his true friend. Then one night

the cat climbed up to the window and fell
out of the tower. He was sure the cat was
alright and hadn't been hurt. He thought he
saw the cat get up and then run away. But
he never saw the cat again.
“Yes, I wish I had a person, a real live
person, who would like me and be kind to
me. Oh, I want somebody so badly. “ As he
spoke, there sounded behind him a slight
tap-tap-tap. And when he turned around,
what do you think he saw? A 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. She was carrying a walking
stick.
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“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.”
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“Thank you for coming,” said the Prince.

“May I ask you who you are? Perhaps my
mother?”
“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 think 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 looked sad and
then looked down at his legs and feet, which
he did not know were different from those
of other children, and then to his sweet,
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bright face. “I am sorry, My Prince,” said

she.
“Yes, I am a Prince, and my name is
Dolor. Will you tell me yours?”
The little old woman laughed. “I have so
many names that I don't know which to
choose. It was I who gave you your name,
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. Then the little old woman asked,
“are you very lonely here?”
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“Not particularly, thank you, godmother.

I have my lessons to do, and my books to
read.”
“And you want for nothing?”
“Nothing. But I’d like to have a friend to
play with.”
“That's one thing that I cannot give
you.” His godmother took him in her arms
and kissed him. By-and-by he kissed
her at first shyly, then with all his warm
little heart.
“Promise me that you will never go
away, godmother.”
“I must, but I will leave you a travelling
cloak that will take you wherever you want
to go and show you all that you wish to
see.”
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“I don't need a cloak, for I never go

out.”
“Be quiet! The nurse is coming.”
“It's my nurse, bringing my dinner, but I
don't want dinner. I only want you. Will her
coming drive you away, godmother?”
“Only for a while, only wish for me and I
will return.”
When the door opened, Prince Dolor
shut his eyes, opening them again, nobody
but his nurse was in the room, as his
godmother was gone
“So many books and things laying
around… and what's this rubbish?” said the
nurse, kicking some of the things on the
floor.
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“Give it to me,” cried the Prince; and

reaching after it, he hid it under his bed
It was, though she did not know this, his
wonderful travelling cloak.
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CHAPTER 4
The cloak didn't look very special. Dolor

touched it; it grew smaller, and he put it
into his pocket and kept it there until he had
a chance to look at it. It seemed like it was
just a piece of cloth, dark green in color,
being worn but not dirty.
Prince Dolor looked at it closely, spread
it out on the floor, then arranged it on his
shoulders. It felt comfortable, but was the
only old and dirty thing the Prince had ever
seen in his life.
“And what use will it be to me?” said the
Prince sadly, “and what in the world will I do
with it?” He folded it carefully and put it
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away in a safe corner of his toy box. After a

time, he nearly forgot the cloak and his
godmother.
Sometimes though, he remembered her
sweet pleasant face. But his godmother
never came. In time the Prince forgot about
her... until something happened which
made him remember her, and want her as
he had never wanted anything before.
Prince Dolor fell ill, and he didn't feel
very well for many days. It wasn’t really a
problem with his body. It was difficult to
study or find anything interesting to do. He
was very very bored.
“I wonder what my godmother meant
when she looked at my legs. Why can't I
walk like my nurse? It would be very nice to
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move about quickly or fly like a bird. How

nice it must be to be a bird. If legs are no
good, why can’t I have wings? I am so tired
and no one cares for me, except perhaps
my godmother. “Godmother, dear, have you
forgotten about me?” he thought.
He dropped his head upon his hands; as
he did so, he felt somebody kiss him on the
back of his neck, and turning, found that he
was resting on the warm shoulder of the
little old woman.
How glad he was to see her. He put both
his arms around her neck and
kissed her lovingly.
“Stop, stop!” she cried. “Only just let me
have breath to speak one word. Tell me
what has happened to you since I saw you.”
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“Nothing has happened,” answered the

Prince.
“And are you very unhappy, my boy?”
The Prince then said, “so unhappy, that I
was just thinking whether I could not jump
out the window to the bottom of the tower.”
“You must be happy with staying where
you are,” said the little old woman, “for you
are a Prince. Where is your travelling
cloak?”
“I…” Prince Dolor started, “I put it away
in the toy box. I suppose it is there still.”
“You have never used it? You dislike it?”
At first, he didn't say anything before he
said, “don't you think it's just a little old and
dirty for a Prince?”
The old woman laughed very sweetly.
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“Why, if all the Princes in the world

wanted it, they couldn't get it, unless I gave
it to them. Old and dirty! It's the most
wonderful thing imaginable! I thought I
would give it to you, because… because you
are different from other people.”
“Am I?” asked the Prince with tears in
his eyes.
She touched his poor little legs. “These
are not like the legs of other little boys.”
“What? My nurse never told me that.”
“I tell you, because I love you.”
“Tell me what, dear godmother?”
“That you will never be able to walk, or
run, or jump, but your life may be a very
happy life for all that. Do not be afraid.”
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“I am not afraid,” said the boy. He

fought back tears and did not cry.
Though he did not wholly understand, he
began to guess what his godmother meant.
He had never seen any real live boys, but
he had seen pictures of them; running and
jumping; which he had liked and tried hard
to do, but it never worked. Now, he began
to understand that we cannot always have
things as we want them.
She comforted him and quietly said, in
her sweet, strong, cheerful
voice: ”Never mind!”
“No, I don't think I do mind, that is, I
won't mind.”
“That is right, My Prince! Let us do our
best!”
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“Bring the cloak out of the rubbish toy

box, quick!” she said to Prince Dolor.
“Spread it out on the floor, and wait
until the opening of the cloak closes and the
edges turn up. Then open the skylight.
That's the highest window. Open the
skylight and say, 'Abracadabra, dum dum
dum,' and—see what will happen!”
The Prince started laughing. It all
seemed so very silly, and his godmother
laughed too.
“Believe me or not, it doesn't matter,”
she said. “Here is the cloak. When you want
to go travelling on it, say, Abracadabra dum
dum dum; when you want to come back
again, say, Abracadabra tum tum ti. That's
all, good-bye.”
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Suddenly his godmother was gone.

Then the nurse came in the room. She
said, “your face is so red! You seem to have
grown better.“
“I have,” replied the Prince--he felt like
he had become much friendlier even to his
nurse. “Let me have my dinner, and you go
to read your books.”
The instant the nurse was gone, Prince
Dolor jumped up and reached the toy box
where he kept his toys and looked
everywhere for his travelling cloak.
But it was not there. While he was ill, his
nurse had cleaned up all his “rubbish,” all
the toys of his baby days, which he could
not bear to part with. Though he almost
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never played with them now, he liked just

to feel they were there.
They were all gone! And with them the
travelling cloak. He sat down on the floor,
looking at his empty toy box, and where
some of the books had been, then started
crying as if his heart would break.
“And it is all because of me,” he cried. “I
ought to have taken better care of the
cloak. Oh, godmother, I'm so sorry! I'll
never be so careless again. I don't know
what the cloak is exactly, but I am sure it is
something important. Help me to find it
again. Oh, don't let it be stolen from me--
don't please.”
“Ha, ha, ha!” someone laughed. “Why,
that travelling cloak is the one thing in the
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world which nobody can steal. It is of no use

to anybody except the owner. Open your
eyes and see what you can see.”
His dear old godmother, he thought, and
turned around. But no, he only saw, lying in
a corner of the room, his travelling cloak.
Prince Dolor quickly went over to the
travelling cloak. Holding it, he kissed it.
Then he began unrolling it, wondering each
minute what would happen next.
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CHAPTER 5
When Prince Dolor started to open the

cloak, something happened. The cloak
started to move. The cloak lay itself down
on the floor. It was so flat. The sides of the
cloak started to come up. It got bigger. It
looked like a little boat.
The Prince watched the cloak moving.
He was tried not to be scared. Finally, he
said to himself, “How silly I am! As if my
dear godmother would ever have given me
anything to hurt me. Here goes!”
So, he used his arms and jumped into
the middle of the cloak, where he sat down,
with his arms tight around his knees. His
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heart was beating fast. But there he sat,

waiting for what might happen next.
But nothing did happen, and he began to
think nothing would happen. But then he
remembered the words. “Abracadabra,
dum, dum, dum!”
He repeated them, laughing all the
while, they seemed too silly. And then… and
then…
The cloak rose up into the air, slowly
and steadily at first. Slowly but surely the
cloak rose higher and higher, until it nearly
touched the skylight.
Then he suddenly remembered what his
godmother had said: ”Open the skylight!”
Without waiting he opened the skylight.
The minute the window was opened, the
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cloak flew out with the boy… right into the

clear fresh air, with nothing between himself
and the clear blue sky. Prince Dolor had
never felt such freedom before.
The Prince was very happy. When he got
out of the 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, no
mountains, no seas, no animals on the
ground, or birds in the air. But to him even
the level plain looked beautiful. And the
wind was so sweet and fresh. It kissed him
like his godmother's kisses. And by-and-by
a few stars came out, first two or three, and
then many more!
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By this time, however, the wind had

become as cold as he felt. He did not have
winter clothes. He was very cold, and his
body started to shiver.
“Perhaps I had better go home,” he
thought.
But how? For in his excitement the other
words which his godmother had told him to
use had been forgotten, and the cloak only
went faster and faster, flying on through the
dark, empty air.
The poor little Prince began to feel
frightened. What if his wonderful travelling
cloak should keep on travelling like this,
perhaps to the world's end, carrying with it
a poor, tired, hungry boy.
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“Dear godmother,” he cried sadly, “do

help me! Tell me just this once and I'll
never forget again.” And then the words
came to him and he remembered. He
repeated them. “Abracadabra, tum,
tum, ti!”
The cloak began to turn slowly, and
immediately started back, as fast as ever, in
the direction of the tower. The skylight he
found exactly as he had left it, and he
slipped in as easily as he had gotten out. He
had barely reached the floor when he heard
his nurse's voice outside.
“What are you doing? What has become
of my Prince all this time? To sit stupidly
here at the window until it is quite dark and
leave the skylight open too. Prince, what
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can you be thinking of? You are the silliest

boy I ever knew.”
But he did not mind what she said. The
instant Prince Dolor got off the cloak it
folded itself up into a little ball and rolled
itself into the farthest corner of the room. If
the nurse had seen it she would thought it
was just some old clothes on the floor. She
brought in the dinner, and he saw that her
face as unhappy as usual. But Prince Dolor
only saw, hidden in the corner where
nobody else would see it, his wonderful
travelling cloak. He ate with the nurse. She
was angry about something. Or at least she
didn't seem happy.
“My poor nurse!” he thought, “she
doesn't have a travelling cloak.”
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Later that night when he was in his little

bed, where he lay awake a good while
watching the stars, his first thought was, “I
must be up very early tomorrow morning
and get my lessons done, and then I'll go
travelling 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
lessons, which for the first time he found
boring, and the instant they were over, he
undid the little bag, climbed on a chair, and
after he climbed onto the table to open the
skylight window. He said the magic words,
and was away out of the window in a
minute.
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He was always used to sitting so quietly,

that his nurse, though only in the next room
did not miss him. She was always busy with
reading books.
And all this while the happy little boy
was away flying in the air on his magic
cloak, and seeing all sorts of wonderful
things… or they seemed wonderful to him,
who had up to now seen nothing at all but
his tower.
First, there were the flowers that grew
on the plain, which, whenever the cloak
came near enough, he tried hard to see
them. The flowers were small, but very
beautiful.
“I wonder,” he thought, “whether I could
see better through a pair of glasses like
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those my nurse reads with and takes such

care of. How I should take care of them too!
If only I had a pair of glasses!”
Immediately he felt a pair of the
prettiest gold glasses ever seen on his nose.
And looking downwards, he found that,
though ever so high above the ground, he
could see every flower in the grass.
“Thank you, thank you!” he cried to his
dear godmother. He enjoyed looking down
upon the grass. Everything was so
wonderful to see though the glasses.
Then, just to rest his eyes, he turned
them up to the sky, at which he had looked
so often and seen nothing. Now he saw a
long, black line, moving on in the distance.
Looking at it through his glasses, he
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discovered that it was a long line of birds,

flying one after the other, their wings
moving steadily and their heads pointed in
one direction, as steadily as if each were a
little ship.
“They must be those kinds of birds that
fly to the sea!” cried the boy, who had read
a little about them. “Oh! how I should like
to see them quite close, and to know where
they come from, and where they are going!”
The cloak suddenly moved forward, and
he found himself high up in the air, in the
very middle of the birds. “Oh, I wish I were
going with you, you lovely birds!” cried the
boy. “I'm getting so tired of this boring
plain, and the sad and lonely tower. I do so
want to see the world! Pretty birds, dear
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birds, tell me what it looks like… the

beautiful, wonderful world!”
But the birds flew past and the boy
looked after them wishing he could fly away
with them too. Then he settled himself
down in the center of the cloak, feeling
quite sad and lonely.
“I think I'll go home,” he said, and
repeated his “Abracadabra, tum tum, ti!”
with a rather heavy heart. The more he had,
the more he wanted.
He did not want to make his godmother
angry by calling for her, and telling her
how unhappy he was after all she'd helped
him. So, he just kept his trouble to himself.
He went back to his lonely tower, and spent
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three days there without going on another

journey with his travelling cloak.
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CHAPTER 6
On the fourth day the mute came and

paid his monthly visit. Prince Dolor became
happier. He always did when he got new
books, which the King of Nomansland often
sent. He paid no attention to the toys which
were brought, as he considered himself a
big boy.
Prince Dolor looked out of the window
and looked at the mute's horse which was
feeding at the foot of the tower and thought
how fun it must be to get upon its back and
ride away.
“Suppose I could walk and fight,” he
said to himself; “then I could ride out and
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see the world.” But he kept all these

thoughts to himself, and just sat still,
reading his new books until he had come to
end of them all.
“I wonder,” he would sometimes think,
“I wonder what it feels like to be on the
back of a horse, riding away, moving fast
over the country, or running 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.”
Soon Prince Dolor was flying out of the
skylight with his travelling cloak.
Before today he had never let himself go
out of sight of home, but now he felt sick of
the very look of his tower.
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“Off we go!” He cried to the cloak.

“Anywhere… anywhere, so that I am away
from here, and out into the world.” As he
spoke, the cloak flew forward through the
air, faster than the very fastest bird.
“Faster! Faster!” cried the Prince in great
excitement. “This is as good as riding a
horse,” and closed his eyes and felt the cool
wind. He felt the wind grow colder, colder
than anything he had ever known.
“What does it matter, though?” he said.
“I'm a boy, and boys ought not to mind
anything.”
Still, by-and-by he began to shiver from
the cold, as he had come away without
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his dinner and became frightfully hungry.

The sunshine changed to rain. All his clothes
got wet.
“Will I turn back?” he thought. “What
will happen if I say, 'Abracadabra?'“ Here he
stopped. “No… I can't go back! I must go
forward and see the world, but oh… If only I
had some clothes to keep me dry from the
rain, or the driest bread and cheese, just to
keep me from being hungry! Still, I don't
much mind, I'm a Prince and ought to be
able to stand anything. Hold on, cloak, we'll
make the best of it.”
No sooner had he said this than he felt
something warm and soft. He was wearing
new warm dry clothes now. Then in his
hand he also found some food. It wasn't
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cheese or bread, but it was the best food he

had ever had. He ate his dinner until he
grew so thirsty he did not know what to do.
“Couldn't I have just one drop of water,
if it wouldn't trouble you too much, kindest
of godmothers?
He forgot one thing… the rain. While he
spoke, it started to rain even more as if the
clouds were crying and wetting him. But
then he found a cup next to him sitting on
the cloak. And the cup was full of water.
And it was so fresh, so pure… as water from
the clouds always is. He drank it happily.
Also, as soon as the cup was empty, the
rain filled it again, so that he was
able to wash his face and hands. Then the
sun came out and dried him in no time.
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Then he lay down with his warm clothes.

The next minute he was sleeping.
When he awoke, he found himself flying

over a country that was very different from
anything he had ever seen before. Yet it
was nothing but what most people see
every day and never notice. It had nothing
in it that made it lovely. The country was
simply pretty, nothing more; yet to Prince
Dolor who had never seen anything beyond
the grassy plain, it appeared wonderful.
First, there was a river. It was a fast
river. “It is so fast! I like things that are
fast!” he cried and watched the water.
All this the boy saw, either with his own
eyes, or through his gold glasses. He saw
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also as in a picture, beautiful but quiet,

many other things which struck him with
wonder, especially the trees.
Just think for a moment what it was like
to be Prince Dolor. To have lived to his age
and never have seen trees! As he flew over
these trees, they looked very interesting.
They were very different to anything he had
ever seen.
“If I could only get nearer, so as to
touch them,” he said.
And the cloak flew down; Prince Dolor
tried to touch the leaves of tallest tree, and
caught some leaves in his hand. Just some
green leaves… such as we have seen many
times, yet how wonderful they were to him,
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and he looked at the leaves with the

greatest interest.
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“Still there must be many living things in

the world besides trees. I should like to see
a few of them.”
The cloak took him through the forest to
a place between the mountains. There were
many different plants and animals there.
Through his wonderful glasses the Prince
could see everything, but he was too high
up to hear anything.
“I wonder if my godmother would give
me a second pair of ears?” he said.
Hardly had he spoken, than he found
lying next to him on the cloak the strangest
little box. And it had a pair of gold ears,
which, when he tried them on, fitted so
exactly over his own ears, that he hardly
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felt them, except for the difference they

made in his hearing.
The sound which he heard is one which
we have heard many times, but Prince
Dolor, who had lived all his days in the dead
quiet of his Tower, heard it for the first
time. And oh! If you had seen his face.
He listened, and listened, and looked
and looked. The sight of the animals made
him excited: horses running races, birds
playing in the trees, they were a great treat
for him to watch.
“Godmother,” he said, having now
begun to believe that, whether he saw
her or not, she could hear him. He
continued to speak, ”Godmother, I should
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like better to see a person like myself.

Couldn't you show me just one little boy?”
Suddenly the Prince heard something
through his gold ears, and looking
downwards, he saw something that we have
all seen before...
This living thing didn't have four legs.
This living thing had only two legs; but they
were long, straight and strong. It was a boy
about the Prince's own age. But, oh! He was
so different. His face was almost as red as
his hands, and black. But he was a rather
friendly-looking boy; and seemed so bright
and healthy.
“Might he come and play with me? I
would drop down to the ground to him, or
get him to come up to me.”
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But the cloak did not listen to the Prince

now. There were some things which his
godmother could or would not give. The
cloak stayed high in the air and did not go
down to the boy. The boy looked up to
where the Prince was. The boy on the
ground thought it was just a bird in the air.
The boy had a dog who was laying in the
grass.
The boy called to the dog and they
started off together for a race in the fields.
Prince Dolor watched them with great
excitement, for a while, then his sweet,
white face grew whiter and he began to cry.
“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.
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The Prince would never run like that boy

could. “I think I had rather not look at him
again,” said the poor little Prince, drawing
himself back into the center of his cloak.
“You're no good to me,” he said to his
small thin legs sadly. “You never will be
good to me. I wonder why I have you at all;
I wonder why I was born at all, since I am
not to grow up like other little boys.”
Prince Dolor sat a good while like this,
and seemed to grow years older in a few
minutes. He had placed himself so he could
see nothing but the sky, and had taken off
his gold ears, as well as his gold glasses.
What was the use of either when he had no
legs to walk or run?
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Suddenly, coming up from below him

there rose a delicious sound. It was a
morning songbird.
“Oh, you beautiful, beautiful bird!” cried
he; “I should dearly like to take you in and
take care of you That is, if I might… if I
could.”
He was so excited that he forgot all
sadness and pain, forgot everything in the
world except the little morning songbird,
and he was just wondering if it would fly out
of sight, when it suddenly closed its wings,
as morning songbirds do when they mean to
drop to the ground. But, instead of dropping
to the ground, it dropped right into the little
boy's hands.
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When he came in sight of the Tower, he

remembered something. “My pretty bird,
what am I to do with you? If I take you into
my room and shut you up there, you will
surely die for I heard my nurse once say
that the nicest thing she ever ate in her life
was morning songbird pie!”
The little boy didn't like the thought, and
in another minute, he had made up his
mind. “No, my bird, nothing so horrible will
happen to you if I can help it. I would rather
you be free. Fly away, my darling! Good-
bye my beautiful bird!”
Opening his two hands, he let the
morning songbird go. It stayed a minute,
sat on the side of the cloak, and looked at
him. Then it flew away.
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But, sometime after, when Prince Dolor

had eaten his dinner, and gone to bed,
suddenly he heard outside the window a
song, even in the middle of the night. The
dear little morning songbird, it had not
flown away after all, but had stayed about
the tower and he listened to its singing and
went to sleep very happy.
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CHAPTER 7
After this journey which had given the

Prince so much pain, he didn't want to see
the world so much. He was happy with
reading his books, and looking out of the
tower windows, and listening to his little
morning songbird, which had come home
with him that day, and had never left him
again.
True, it kept out of the way. But though
his nurse sometimes heard it, and said,
“What is that horrible noise outside?” she
never got the chance to make the morning
songbird into a pie.
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All during the winter the little bird made

him happy. He hardly needed anything
more… not even his travelling cloak, which
lay unnoticed in a corner.
Prince Dolor was now a big boy. Not tall
though! He never would be tall with his poor
little legs. But he was strong, with great
wide shoulders, and strong arms. His face,
too, was very good-looking; and more
manly. But he still had the sweet face from
his mother.
The boy was not a stupid boy either. He
could learn almost anything he chose. And
he did choose to learn different things,
which was sometimes difficult. He never
gave up his lessons until he had learned
them all.
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“But,” he thought one day, “men work,

and it must be so nice to be a man. A Prince
too must work. And I think Princes work
harder than anybody. Except for Kings.
Kings must work harder. The Princes I read
about... they all turn into Kings. I wonder…”
The boy was always wondering. And one
day he scared the nurse with a sudden
question. ”Tell me, will I ever be a King?”
The woman stood there. She didn't know
what to say. So long a time had passed.
She had not thought about her old life or
what she had ever done wrong. She didn't
think about the bad things she had done
before. She had also forgotten that Prince
Dolor was really the son of the last King.
She was used to the tower. And the little
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Prince whom she at first hated, she had

learned to love—at least, enough to feel
sorry for him.
The Prince noticed that her feeling
toward him was changing and did not
turn away from her. “I don't mean to make
you angry. But tell me, what is a King? Will
I ever be one?”
Then the idea came to her... it wouldn't
be so bad if he knew his own history?
Perhaps he ought to know it… for there had
been many changes in Nomansland, as in
most other countries. Something might
happen… Who could tell? Possibly Prince
Dolor would be King one day? Perhaps...
She sat down, considering what King
Tom had told her many years before…
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“Never say a word to Prince Dolor about

himself.” She thought that her promise
would be broken if she spoke the truth to
Prince Dolor. But if she wrote it down for
the Prince to read... that would not really be
“saying a word.” It would be writing...
After long moment, she put her finger to
her lips, and wrote down the truth:
She wrote: “You are a King.”
Prince Dolor didn’t know what to think.
His face grew white. He straightened his
back and sat up. Handicapped as he was,
anybody could see he was born to be a
king.
“Hush!” said the nurse, as he was
beginning to speak. And then, terribly
frightened all the while, she wrote down
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some of his history. How his parents had

died, how his uncle Tom had become King,
and how his uncle had sent him to live all
his days in this tower.
“Me, too,” she said, starting to cry.
“Unless, indeed, you could get out into the
world, and fight for your rights like a man.
And fight for me also, My Prince, that I may
not die here in this sad tower.”
“Poor old nurse,” said the boy. For
somehow, boy as he was, when he heard he
was born to be a king, he felt like a man…
like a king. He felt like a king who was both
kind and strong.
He barely slept that night, and barely
listened to the singing of the morning
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songbird. Things more important were in his

mind.
“Maybe,” he thought, “I could go into
the world, no matter how it hurts me. The
people might only laugh at me, but still I
might show them I could do something.
Anyways, I might go and see if there was
anything for me to do. Godmother, help
me!”
It had been so long since he had asked
for help, that he was hardly surprised when
he got no answer. He jumped out of the
bed, dressed himself, and went to the
corner where lay his travelling cloak and
unrolled it. Then he jumped into the middle
of it, said his magic words, and was out
through the skylight the next moment.
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“Good-bye, pretty morning songbird!” he

shouted, as he passed it in the air. “You
have been my good friend. Now I must go
and work. Sing to old nurse until I come
back again. Good-bye!”
But as the cloak stayed still in air, he
suddenly remembered that he had not
made up his mind where to go. Indeed, he
did not know, and there was nobody to tell
him.
“Godmother,” he cried, “you know what
I want. Tell me where I should go. Show me
whatever I should see. It doesn’t matter
what I want to see.”
This journey was not for fun as before.
He was not a baby now, to do nothing but
play. Men work, this much Prince Dolor
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knew. As the cloak started off, over freezing

mountain tops, and lonely forests, a flat
plain and great lakes, he was often rather
frightened. But he sat down on the cloak
and waited for what would happen.
After some time, he heard a sound in
the distance, and looking down, Prince Dolor
saw something. With his gold glasses and
gold ears, he could see far below him a city.
What if you were to see a large city from
high up in the air; where, with our ears and
eyes open, you could see everything at
once. What would it look like? How would
you feel about it? I hardly know myself. Do
you?
He looked down on the city below him,
and then put his hand over his eyes. He
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couldn't believe his eyes. “I can't bear to

look at it, it is so beautiful… so scary. And I
don't understand it… not one bit. I wish I
had someone to tell me about it.”
“Do you want someone to tell you about
the city? Then please speak to me.” The
voice that spoke to him came from a great
black and white bird that flew to the cloak
and began walking round and round on the
edge of the cloak.
“Who are you?” the boy asked the bird.
“My name is Maggie and I will be happy
to tell you everything you want to know. My
family is very old; we have lived in the
King’s home for many years. I know the
King and Queen well. And there are little
princes and princesses. I know everyone in
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the city. I know I talk a lot, but I am always

right. I will be useful to a boy like you who
doesn't know much about the city.”
“I am a Prince,” said Prince Dolor. “What
kind of bird are you?”
“All right. I am a magpie.” She sat
herself on his arm and began to talk and
talk, pointing out with one foot everything
of interest.
Maggie said that it was the finest city in
Nomansland but there were a few things in
it that surprised Prince Dolor. One half the
people seemed so happy and the other half
were so poor.
“I would try to make it a little fairer for
everyone if I were King. Everyone should be
happy,” he said.
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“But you're not the King,” returned the

bird. “Do you want me to show you the
King’s home?”
“Yes.”
The King’s home was very big. But since
the Queen died the windows through which
she looked at the Beautiful Mountains, had
been closed. The room was so little that no
one cared to use it.
“I would like to see the King,” said
Prince Dolor, and as he spoke Maggie flew
down to the top of the King’s home, where
the cloak rested.
Then Maggie the magpie showed Prince
Dolor a hole. Through the hole they could
see inside the King's home and into the
room below.
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“Now come and have a look at the

King,” said Maggie.
The Prince looked down, into a large
room, the largest room he had ever seen,
with more wonderful things than anything
he could ever have imagined.
“Where is the King?” asked the boy, who
wasn't understanding.
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“There,” said Maggie, pointing with one foot

to a big bed, large enough to sleep six
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people. In the center of the bed was a small

old thin man. His skin was a yellow color
and his beard was so long that the Prince
couldn't see his mouth. He lay there not
moving. Flies were in the long hairs of his
beard and flying around his mouth. The only
thing that Prince Dolor and the magpie
could hear was the sound of the flies.
“Is that the King?” asked Prince Dolor.
“Yes,” replied the bird.
He had been angry ever since he learned
how his uncle had become King and sent
him away. Prince Dolor had wanted to hurt
his uncle… his evil uncle. Why, you might as
well hit a baby! How helpless the King lay!
With his eyes shut, and his small hands still,
they had no more work to do, bad or good.
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“What is wrong with him?” asked the

Prince.
“He is dead...”
No, there was not the least use in being
angry with his uncle now. Instead, the
Prince felt almost sorry for him.
“What will we do now?” asked the bird.
“There's nothing much more to be done with
the King. He is dead. Maybe we can fly up a
little higher to a safe distance. From up high
we can look down and be safe. There will be
a big fight in the city. The people have not
chosen a King.”
“What will happen?” asked the Prince.
“All of the people will fight. They will
fight until there is a new King.”
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As soon as the church bell began to ring

the people of the city started to come
together. They were shouting at each other.
Some people were shouting, “long live
the King!” Others were shouting, “the King
is dead! Down with the King! Down with the
King! We don't want a King!” Such were the
shouts that the Prince could hear.
And then began, the shooting. Men were
shooting down people by hundreds in the
streets, heads were being cut off, houses
burned, and women and children killed.
Prince Dolor saw it all. Things happened
so fast after one another that he nearly
forgot where he was.
“Oh, let me go home,” he cried at last,
stopping his ears and shutting his eyes,
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“only let me go home!” Because even his

lonely tower and its sadness and quietness
was much better than this.
Prince Dolor fell into a kind of dream.
When he was awake, he found himself in his
bed.
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CHAPTER 8
Next morning, when Prince Dolor awoke, his

room seemed empty. He was a little
frightened. Especially when he began to call
again and again, but nobody answered.
“Nurse! Dear nurse! Where are you? Please
come back!” he called out.
And when she did not come back, and
no one answered his call, he very nearly
began to cry.
“This won't do,” he said at last with the
tears in his eyes. “It's just like a baby, and
I'm a big boy… I will be a man someday.
What has happened, I wonder? I'll go and
see.”
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Language Learning
He jumped out of bed and went from

room to room on his arms and knees.
“What in the world am I to do?” he
thought, and sat down in the middle of the
floor. He was starting to believe that it
would be better to give up, lay himself down
and die.
This feeling, however, did not last long.
He jumped up and looked out of the
window. No help there. At first, he only saw
the grassy plain. But, by-and-by, on the
ground around the base of the tower he saw
clearly the marks of horse’s feet.
“Yes, that's it. The mute has come and
gone, taking the nurse with him. Poor
nurse! how glad she must have been to go!”
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That was Prince Dolor's first thought.

Then he felt angry about the nurse for
leaving. He decided that it would be easier
to die here alone than out in the world,
among the terrible doings which he had just
seen.
The Prince tried to think of what must
have happened when he was flying above
the city. The mute must have come. Then
he somehow made the nurse understand
that the King was dead, and that she didn’t
need to fear going back to the city.
“I hope she'll enjoy it,” said the Prince.
And then he started to feel very bad
about being angry at her. After all the years
she had taken care of him, even though it
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Language Learning
was not her choice. Still she had taken care

of him.
For the second time, he tried to dress
himself, and then to do everything he could
for himself. He even tried to clean the tower
by himself.
He then thought of his godmother. He
didn’t think about calling her or asking her
to help him... because she must have left
him. “She would have come back if she
cared,” he thought. He decided to try and
call his godmother. But she didn't come.
For a time, he was very sad and thought
that he couldn't continue living. Soon
though, he started to not be so sad and he
became comfortable and happy even though
he was so alone.
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But when it was time to go to bed, he

was very lonely, even his little morning
songbird didn't come or sing. As for his
travelling cloak, either he never thought
about it, or else it had been taken away by
the nurse. Because he made no use of the
cloak and he never tried to find it or use it.
On the sixth day, Prince Dolor had a

strange but happy look on his face. Get out
of the tower he could not. The chain that
the mute had used was gone. The food was
almost gone too. So, he decided in his mind
to die. Not that he wished to die. Truly he
didn't wish to die. There was a great many
things that he wished to live to do. Dying
did not seem so very bad though; not even
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Language Learning
to lie quietly like his uncle, King Tom, and

die. By now he was no longer angry with his
uncle Tom.
“What if I had grown to be 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 that
I was handicapped with short useless legs.
Then, it would have been nice to have lived,
I think.” Tears came into the little boy's
eyes.
Then he heard music. It was coming
from the people of Nomansland. Not
pleasant music, but very grand music.
Prince Dolor looked out of this tower
window and saw all the people of
Nomansland waiting outside of his tower.
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The poor woman had not been such a

bad woman after all. As soon as she heard
of the death of the King, she asked the
mute to take her away with him, and they
rode like the wind from city to city.
Everywhere they told the news to all the
people that Prince Dolor's death had never
happened. It was King Tom who had sent
Prince Dolor away. Prince Dolor was alive
and well, and the kindest young Prince who
had ever been born.
The poor woman's plan worked. People
jumped at the idea of this Prince, who was
the son of their late good King and Queen.
“Hurrah for Prince Dolor! Let him be our
King!” all the people said from end to end of
the country.
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They decided to have him be King.

As soon as the late King Tom was
buried, all the people turned all Tom's
family out of the King’s home, and left it
empty for Prince Dolor.
From the tower window, the Prince
looked down at the people. They were so
happy. All the people went down on their
knees and offered the King’s crown to put
on Prince Dolor’s head.
“Yes,” he said to all the people, “if you
want me to be King, I will be your King. And
I will do my best to make my people
happy.”
“Oh wait!” the Prince said, “if before I go, I
could only see my dear godmother.”
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He looked sadly up to the skylight. The

sunlight was coming in through the window.
Then his godmother came down through the
skylight. He held out his arms to meet his
godmother.
“Oh, godmother, you have not forgotten
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
anything I want to, you know.”
“Like a morning songbird?” cried Prince
Dolor.
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Language Learning
“Or a different kind of bird,” and for a

moment his godmother sounded just like
Maggie the Magpie.
“You will not leave me now that I am
King? If you do, I would rather not be
King at all,” he said.
The little old woman laughed happily.
“That is impossible. But now I must go.
Good-bye! Open the window and out I fly.”
Prince Dolor tried to hold his godmother
fast, but he couldn't. A knocking was heard
at the door, and the little woman was gone.
His godmother had always helped him
out of many difficulties because she had
always known what to do.
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He was very happy because even though

his legs were useless, he was very strong in
his mind. Because of this other people grew
to love him so well, that hundreds of his
people might have been ready to die for
their King.
King Dolor did many good things. First,
he pardoned the poor woman, who had
been his nurse. She lived happily for the
rest of her days.
His father, the late King, had one last
brother who was alive. His name was John.
John was the little brother of Tom. John was
very old, but kind. His oldest son was a very
quiet boy. King Dolor chose this boy to
become the next Prince.
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So, King Dolor taught the boy

everything he needed to know. He was a
very good Prince and was very kind.
In time, when the little Prince had grown

into a tall young man, King Dolor chose a
day when the people should come together
in the great square of the city to see the
young Prince become the new King.
King Dolor lifted his thin hand, and
everything was quiet as all the people
watched closely. King Dolor said the words
and the young Prince became the new King.
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Language Learning
“My people” Dolor said, “I am tired. I want

to rest; it is time for me to go and I do not
think I will come back.” He took something
out of his pocket. It happened so fast that
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no one could see what it was that Dolor

had. But it was really his cloak that he had
pulled out. Then Dolor was flying away.
He was flying right up in the air.
Dolor was gone…
No one could say where he went. And no
one could say who he went with.
But what do you believe, dear reader? I
believe that his godmother took him on his
travelling cloak to the Beautiful Mountains
to live happily for the rest of his days.
The End.
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Language Learning
Who Wrote the Book?
This book was written by Dina Dolorez

Mulock in 1875. The book was originally
called “The Little Lame Prince and his
Travelling Cloak.” The pictures were
illustrated by Hugo von Hofsten.
How was this Graded Reader Made?
The graded reader format of this book

was created by Mathew Armstrong in 2020
using data from the AntWordProfiler
program using word family lists based on
the British National Corpus and the Corpus
of Contemporary American English. The first
1,000 word families (including the additional
vocabulary on pages 5-8) cover 98% of the
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Language Learning
words in this book. 2% of the vocabulary in

this book are from the second 1,000 word
families and are repeated to maximize the
possibility of learning them.
Anthony, L. (2012). AntWordProfiler

(Version 1.4.0) [Computer Software].
Tokyo, Japan: Waseda University.
Available from
http://www.antlab.sci.waseda.ac.jp/
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The Little Prince and

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82 Minutes of Free Audio

About this book

This story is about a little boy named

Where is the Audio for the Book?

You can download all the audio here at

Where is the Audio for the Book? ........ 2

Important Names and Words .............. 5

Who Wrote the Book? ..................... 113

How was this Graded Reader Made? . 113

Important Names and Words

A queen is the mother of a

Prince Dolor is a little boy

Tom is Prince Dolor’s uncle

brother). He is a bad man

Nomansland is the name of

This is Prince Dolor’s

door and he cannot leave

He was the most beautiful Prince that

The only quiet place in the King’s home

The Prince’s name day came at last and

very best clothes. And then the little Prince

was not strong, and for years had not joined

music was too loud. It would have been sad

Prince.' Keep away; the Prince is just going

“I must kiss him; I am his godmother.”

“You!” cried all the people and the music got

attention and her soft grey eyes were fixed

reached out their hands to catch her, but

It could not be said that the Prince

A Prince? And he can’t stand on his legs!

Prince Dolor playing in a corner of the room,

“The problem with his back. Maybe the

sweetest woman that ever lived. Come

The King did not pay much attention to

Soon after he said this, the King died, as

They did see him, sitting on the floor of

handicapped boy who can't even walk! It's

Whenever Tom and his sons appeared,

send him for a time to the Beautiful

And what of the little handicapped

the middle of the plain. It was about 30

One winter night, when the big round

Prince Dolor's death, the man in black took

Every month the mute came back to the

When he grew older, he began reading

are dying from being hungry. He grew sad,

weeks it was his true friend. Then one night

“My own little boy,” she said, “I could

“Thank you for coming,” said the Prince.

bright face. “I am sorry, My Prince,” said

“Not particularly, thank you, godmother.

“I don't need a cloak, for I never go

“Give it to me,” cried the Prince; and

The cloak didn't look very special. Dolor

away in a safe corner of his toy box. After a