"It will take a few minutes for this powder todo its work," remarked the Magician, sprinklingthe body up and down with much care.

But suddenly the Patchwork Girl threw up onearm, which knocked the bottle of powder from thecrooked man's hand and sent it flying across theroom. Unc Nunkie and Margolotte were so startledthat they both leaped backward and bumpedtogether, and Unc's head joggled the shelf abovethem and upset the bottle containing the Liquid ofPetrifaction.

The Magician uttered such a wild cry that Ojojumped away and the Patchwork Girl sprang afterhim and clasped her stuffed arms around him interror. The Glass Cat snarled and hid under thetable, and so it was that when the powerful Liquidof Petrifaction was spilled it fell only upon thewife of the Magician and the uncle of Ojo. Withthese two the charm worked promptly. They stoodmotionless and stiff as marble statues, in exactlythe positions they were in when the Liquid struckthem.

Ojo pushed the Patchwork Girl away andran to Unc Nunkie, filled with a terrible fearfor the only friend and protector he had everknown. When he grasped Unc's hand it wascold and hard. Even the long gray beard wassolid marble. The Crooked Magician wasdancing around the room in a frenzy of despair,calling upon his wife to forgive him, to speakto him, to come to life again!

The Patchwork Girl, quickly recovering from herfright, now came nearer and looked from one toanother of the people with deep interest. Then shelooked at herself and laughed. Noticing themirror, she stood before it and examined herextraordinary features with amazement--her buttoneyes, pearl bead teeth and puffy nose. Then,addressing her reflection in the glass, she exclaimed:

"Whee, but there's a gaudy dame!Makes a paint-box blush with shame.Razzle-dazzle, fizzle-fazzle!Howdy-do, Miss What's-your-name?"

She bowed, and the reflection bowed. Thenshe laughed again, long and merrily, and theGlass Cat crept out from under the table and said:

"I don't blame you for laughing at yourself.Aren't you horrid?"

"Horrid?" she replied. "Why, I'm thoroughlydelightful. I'm an Original, if you please, andtherefore incomparable. Of all the comic, absurd,rare and amusing creatures the world contains, Imust be the supreme freak. Who but poor Margolottecould have managed to invent such an unreasonablebeing as I? But I'm glad--I'm awfully glad!--thatI'm just what I am, and nothing else."

"Be quiet, will you?" cried the franticMagician; "be quiet and let me think! If I don'tthink I shall go mad."

"Think ahead," said the Patchwork Girl, seatingherself in a chair. "Think all you want to. Idon't mind."

"Gee! but I'm fired playing that tune," calledthe phonograph, speaking through its horn ina brazen, scratchy voice. "If you don't mind,Pipt, old boy, I'll cut it out and take a rest."

The Magician looked gloomily at the music-machine.

"What dreadful luck!" he wailed, despondently."The Powder of Life must have fallen on thephonograph."

He went up to it and found that the gold bottlethat contained the precious powder had droppedupon the stand and scattered its life-givinggrains over the machine. The phonograph was verymuch alive, and began dancing a jig with the legsof the table to which it was attached, and thisdance so annoyed Dr. Pipt that he kicked the thinginto a corner and pushed a bench against it, tohold it quiet.

"You were bad enough before," said the Magician,resentfully; "but a live phonograph is enough todrive every sane person in the Land of Oz starkcrazy."

"No insults, please," answered the phonograph ina surly, tone. "You did it, my boy; don't blameme. "

"You've bungled everything, Dr. Pipt," addedthe Glass Cat, contemptuously.

"Except me," said the Patchwork Girl, jumping upto whirl merrily around the room.

"I think," said Ojo, almost ready to crythrough grief over Unc Nunkie's sad fate, "itmust all be my fault, in some way. I'm calledOjo the Unlucky, you know."

"That's nonsense, kiddie," retorted thePatchwork Girl cheerfully. "No one can be unluckywho has the intelligence to direct his ownactions. The unlucky ones are those who beg for achance to think, like poor Dr. Pipt here. What'sthe row about, anyway, Mr. Magic-maker?"

"The Liquid of Petrifaction has accidentallyfallen upon my dear wife and Unc Nunkie andturned them into marble," he sadly replied.

"Well, why don't you sprinkle some of thatpowder on them and bring them to life again?"asked the Patchwork Girl.

The Magician gave a jump.

"Why, I hadn't thought of that!" he joyfullycried, and grabbed up the golden bottle, withwhich he ran to Margolotte.

Said the Patchwork Girl:

"Higgledy, piggledy, dee-What fools magicians be!His head's so thickHe can't think quick,So he takes advice from me."

Standing upon the bench, for he was socrooked he could not reach the top of his wife'shead in any other way, Dr. Pipt began shakingthe bottle. But not a grain of powder came out.He pulled off the cover, glanced within, andthen threw the bottle from him with a wail ofdespair.

"Gone-gone! Every bit gone," he cried."Wasted on that miserable phonograph whenit might have saved my dear wife!"

Then the Magician bowed his head on hiscrooked arms and began to cry.

Ojo was sorry for him. He went up to thesorrowful man and said softly:

"You can make more Powder of Life, Dr. Pipt."

"Yes; but it will take me six years--six long,weary years of stirring four kettles with bothfeet and both hands," was the agonized reply. "Sixyears! while poor Margolotte stands watching me asa marble image. "

"Can't anything else be done?" asked thePatchwork Girl.

The Magician shook his head. Then he seemed toremember something and looked up.

"There is one other compound that would destroythe magic spell of the Liquid of Petrifaction andrestore my wife and Unc Nunkie to life," said he."It may be hard to find the things I need to makethis magic compound, but if they were found Icould do in an instant what will otherwise takesix long, weary years of stirring kettles withboth hands and both feet."

"All right; let's find the things, then,"suggested the Patchwork Girl. "That seems a lotmore sensible than those stirring times with thekettles."

"That's the idea, Scraps," said the Glass Cat,approvingly. "I'm glad to find you have decentbrains. Mine are exceptionally good. You cansee em work; they're pink."

"Scraps?" repeated the girl. "Did you call me'Scraps'? Is that my name?"

"I--I believe my poor wife had intended toname you 'Angeline,'" said the Magician.

"But I like 'Scraps' best," she replied with alaugh. "It fits me better, for my patchwork isall scraps, and nothing else. Thank you fornaming me, Miss Cat. Have you any name ofyour own?"

"I have a foolish name that Margolotte oncegave me, but which is quite undignified forone of my importance," answered the cat. "Shecalled me 'Bungle.'"

"Yes," sighed the Magician; "you were a sadbungle, taken all in all. I was wrong to makeyou as I did, for a more useless, conceited andbrittle thing never before existed."

"I'm not so brittle as you think," retorted thecat. "I've been alive a good many years, forDr. Pipt experimented on me with the firstmagic Powder of Life he ever made, and sofar I've never broken or cracked or chipped anypart of me."

"You seem to have a chip on your shoulder,"laughed the Patchwork Girl, and the cat wentto the mirror to see.

"Tell me," pleaded Ojo, speaking to theCrooked Magician, "what must we find to makethe compound that will save Unc Nunkie?"

"First," was the reply, "I must have a six-leaved clover. That can only be found in the greencountry around the Emerald City, and six-leavedclovers are very scarce, even there."

"I'll find it for you," promised Ojo.

"The next thing," continued the Magician,"is the left wing of a yellow butterfly. Thatcolor can only be found in the yellow countryof the Winkies, West of the Emerald City."

"I'll find it," declared Ojo. "Is that all?"

"Oh, no; I'll get my Book of Recipes and seewhat comes next."

Saying this, the Magician unlocked a drawerof his cabinet and drew out a small book coveredwith blue leather. Looking through the pageshe found the recipe he wanted and said: "Imust have a gill of water from a dark well."

"What kind of a well is that, sir?" asked theboy.

"One where the light of day never penetrates.The water must be put in a gold bottle and broughtto me without any light ever reaching it.

"I'll get the water from the dark well," saidOjo.

"Then I must have three hairs from the tipof a Woozy's tail, and a drop of oil from a liveman's body."

Ojo looked grave at this.

"What is a Woozy, please?" he inquired.

"Some sort of an animal. I've never seen one,so I can't describe it," replied the Magician.

"If I can find a Woozy, I'll get the hairs fromits tail," said Ojo. "But is there ever any oil in aman's body?"

The Magician looked in the book again, to makesure.

"That's what the recipe calls for," he replied,"and of course we must get everything that iscalled for, or the charm won't work. The bookdoesn't say 'blood'; it says 'oil,' and there mustbe oil somewhere in a live man's body or thebook wouldn't ask for it."

"All right," returned Ojo, trying not to feeldiscouraged; "I'll try to find it."

The Magician looked at the little Munchkinboy in a doubtful way and said:

"All this will mean a long journey for you;perhaps several long journeys; for you must searchthrough several of the different countries of Ozin order to get the things I need."

"I know it, sir; but I must do my best to saveUnc Nunkie."

"And also my poor wife Margolotte. If you saveone you will save the other, for both stand theretogether and the same compound will restore themboth to life. Do the best you can, Ojo, and whileyou are gone I shall begin the six years job ofmaking a new batch of the Powder of Life. Then, ifyou should unluckily fail to secure any one of thethings needed, I will have lost no time. But ifyou succeed you must return here as quickly as youcan, and that will save me much tiresome stirringof four kettles with both feet and both hands."

"I will start on my journey at once, sir," saidthe boy.

"And I will go with you," declared the PatchworkGirl.

"No, no!" exclaimed the Magician. "You have noright to leave this house. You are only a servantand have not been discharged."

Scraps, who had been dancing up and downthe room, stopped and looked at him.

"What is a servant?" she asked.

"One who serves. A--a Sort of slave," heexplained.

"Very well," said the Patchwork Girl, "I'm goingto serve you and your wife by helping Ojo find thethings you need. You need a lot, you know, such asare not easily found."

"It is true," sighed Dr. Pipt. "I am well awarethat Ojo has undertaken a serious task."

Scraps laughed, and resuming her dance she said:

"Here's a job for a boy of brains:A drop of oil from a live man's veins;A six-leaved clover; three nice hairsFrom a Woozy's tail, the book declaresAre needed for the magic spell,And water from a pitch-dark well.The yellow wing of a butterflyTo find must Ojo also try,And if he gets them without harm,Doc Pipt will make the magic charm;But if he doesn't get 'em, UncWill always stand a marble chunk."

The Magician looked at her thoughtfully.

"Poor Margolotte must have given you some of thequality of poesy, by mistake," he said. "And, ifthat is true, I didn't make a very good articlewhen I prepared it, or else you got an overdose oran underdose. However, I believe I shall let yougo with Ojo, for my poor wife will not need yourservices until she is restored to life. Also Ithink you may be able to help the boy, for yourhead seems to contain some thoughts I did notexpect to find in it. But be very careful ofyourself, for you're a souvenir of my dearMargolotte. Try not to get ripped, or yourstuffing may fall out. One of your eyes seemsloose, and you may have to sew it on tighter. Ifyou talk too much you'll wear out your scarletplush tongue, which ought to have been hemmed onthe edges. And remember you belong to me and mustreturn here as soon as your mission isaccomplished."

"I'm going with Scraps and Ojo," announcedthe Glass Cat.

"You can't," said the Magician.

"Why not?"

"You'd get broken in no time, and youcouldn't be a bit of use to the boy and thePatchwork Girl."

"I beg to differ with you," returned the cat,in a haughty tone. "Three heads are betterthan two, and my pink brains are beautiful.You can see em work."

"Well, go along," said the Magician, irritably."You're only an annoyance, anyhow, and I'm glad toget rid of you."

"Thank you for nothing, then," answered the cat,stiffly.

Dr. Pipt took a small basket from a cupboardand packed several things in it. Then he handedit to Ojo.

"Here is some food and a bundle of charms," hesaid. "It is all I can give you, but I am sure youwill find friends on your journey who will assistyou in your search. Take care of the PatchworkGirl and bring her safely back, for she ought toprove useful to my wife. As for the Glass Cat--properly named Bungle--if she bothers you I nowgive you my permission to break her in two, forshe is not respectful and does not obey me. I madea mistake in giving her the pink brains, you see.

Then Ojo went to Unc Nunkie and kissed the oldman's marble face very tenderly.

"I'm going to try to save you, Unc," he said,just as if the marble image could hear him; andthen he shook the crooked hand of the CrookedMagician, who was already busy hanging the fourkettles in the fireplace, and picking up hisbasket left the house.

The Patchwork Girl followed him, and afterthem came the Glass Cat.