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 Nomansland--that the little
Prince watched him with great admiration.

"Might he come and play with me? I 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 evidently some things which his godmother 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 expressing his feelings. He
could not make the thing out exactly--it was a rather mysterious 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 delight.

"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