"So it is," returned Bungle, in a grumpy tone of
voice; and then, as the phonograph overtook them,
the Glass Cat added sternly: "What are you doing
here, anyhow?"

"I've run away," said the music thing. "After
you left, old Dr. Pipt and I had a dreadful
quarrel and he threatened to smash me to pieces if
I didn't keep quiet. Of course I wouldn't do that,
because a talking-machine is supposed to talk and
make a noise--and sometimes music. So I slipped out
of the house while the Magician was stirring his
four kettles and I've been running after you all
night. Now that I've found such pleasant company,
I can talk and play tunes all I want to."

Ojo was greatly annoyed by this unwelcome
addition to their party. At first he did not know
what to say to the newcomer, but a little thought
decided him not to make friends.

"We are traveling on important business," he
declared, "and you'll excuse me if I say we can't
be bothered."

"How very impolite!" exclaimed the phonograph.

"I'm sorry; but it's true," said the boy. "You'll
have to go somewhere else."