"What sort of thing!"

"A little boy to play with."

The old woman looked very sad. "Just the thing, alas I which I cannot
give you. My child, I cannot 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 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 behind 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."