"Perhaps so. I'll try it, after I've brought the
Patchwork Girl to life," he said.

The cat walked up to the bench on which
the Patchwork Girl reclined and looked at her
attentively.

"Are you going to make that dreadful thing
live?" she asked.

The Magician nodded.

"It is intended to be my wife's servant maid,"
he said. "When she is alive she will do all our
work and mind the house. But you are not to
order her around, Bungle, as you do us. You
must treat the Patchwork Girl respectfully."

"I won't. I couldn't respect such a bundle
of scraps under any circumstances."

"If you don't, there will be more scraps than
you will like," cried Margolotte, angrily.

"Why didn't you make her pretty to look at?"
asked the cat. "You made me pretty--very pretty,
indeed--and I love to watch my pink brains roll
around when they're working, and to see my
precious red heart beat." She went to a long