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

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

"I think," said Ojo, almost ready to cry
through grief over Unc Nunkie's sad fate, "it
must all be my fault, in some way. I'm called
Ojo the Unlucky, you know."

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

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

"Well, why don't you sprinkle some of that
powder 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 joyfully