On the other side of the room was a round table on which breakfast was already placed, smoking hot. Only one chair was drawn up to the table, where a place was set for one person. No one seemed to be in the room except the boy and Bungle.
Ojo got up and put on his shoes. Finding a toilet stand at the head of his bed he washed his face and hands and brushed his hair. Then he went to the table and said:
"I wonder if this is my breakfast?"
"Eat it!" commanded a Voice at his side, so near that Ojo jumped. But no person could he see.
He was hungry, and the breakfast looked good; so he sat down and ate all he wanted. Then, rising, he took his hat and wakened the Glass Cat.
"Come on, Bungle," said he; "we must go."
He cast another glance about the room and, speaking to the air, he said: "Whoever lives here has been kind to me, and I'm much obliged."
There was no answer, so he took his basket and went out the door, the cat following him. In the middle of the path sat the Patchwork Girl, playing with pebbles she had picked up.
"Oh, there you are!" she exclaimed cheerfully. "I thought you were never coming out. It has been daylight a long time."
"What did you do all night?" asked the boy.
"Sat here and watched the stars and the moon," she replied. "They're interesting. I never saw them before, you know."
"Of course not," said Ojo.
"You were crazy to act so badly and get thrown outdoors," remarked Bungle, as they renewed their journey.
"That's all right," said Scraps. "If I hadn't been thrown out I wouldn't have seen the stars, nor the big gray wolf."
"What wolf?" inquired Ojo.
"The one that came to the door of the house three times during the night."
"I don't see why that should be," said the boy, thoughtfully; "there was plenty to eat in that house, for I had a fine breakfast, and I slept in a nice bed."
"Don't you feel tired?" asked the Patchwork Girl, noticing that the boy yawned.
"Why, yes; I'm as tired as I was last night; and yet I slept very well."
"And aren't you hungry?"
"It's strange," replied Ojo. "I had a good breakfast, and yet I think I'll now eat some of my crackers and cheese."
Scraps danced up and down the path. Then she sang:
"Kizzle-kazzle-kore; The wolf is at the door, There's nothing to eat but a bone without meat, And a bill from the grocery store."
"What does that mean?" asked Ojo.
"Don't ask me," replied Scraps. "I say what comes into my head, but of course I know nothing of a grocery store or bones without meat or-- very much else."
"No," said the cat; "she's stark, staring, raving crazy, and her brains can't be pink, for they don't work properly."
"Bother the brains!" cried Scraps. "Who cares for 'em, anyhow? Have you noticed how beautiful my patches are in this sunlight?"
Just then they heard a sound as of footsteps pattering along the path behind them and all three turned to see what was coming. To their astonishment they beheld a small round table running as fast as its four spindle legs could carry it, and to the top was screwed fast a phonograph with a big gold horn.
"Hold on!" shouted the phonograph. "Wait for me!"
"Goodness me; it's that music thing which the Crooked Magician scattered the Powder of Life over," said Ojo.
"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.