time he bowed the cold the Prince's heart grew worse. Now, of course, when one has a cold in one's head one sneezes and coughs and talks through one's nose. But when one has a cold in the heart, one growls and scolds and talks through one's hat, so to speak, and that is how the oldest, knowingest wise man in the palace came to discover the little Prince's affliction.
And really, the Prince was sneezing (pshaw, I mean scolding) in scandalous fashion. So this knowing old wise man bent himself double before his Royal Majesty the King and explained that the little Prince had a cold in his heart, which strange fact the King explained to the Queen, who explained it to all the Courtiers and they shook their heads and rubbed their hands together and remarked politely, "How odd!" and "How extraordin'ry!" and other things which I haven't time to repeat. But one could not expect such exalted folk to be interested in anything so small for so great a time and pretty soon they politely forgot it, all except the old wise man.
Every night he sat poring over musty old books, trying to find a cure for heart colds. He would shake his head and mutter away by the hour and at last one night he had a great idea.
Tiptoeing into the beautiful room where the little Prince lay sleeping on a solid gold bed he began waving his hands to and fro and droning in a sing-song voice,
"Abraine, Abracomp,
Abradonchi Abrapomp!"
There was more than this, but I dare not tell it, 'cause how do I know you'll not be trying it some day or other? Besides, I promised the old wise man not to tell!
After about so long a time and after touching the little Prince lightly on the forehead, the old man tiptoed out again and nobody was the wiser, for the gold and green attendant
