
          by 
            L. Frank Baum 
          (excerpts 
            from Chapters Four & Five, pp. 55-60)
          "a live phonograph is 
            enough to drive every sane person in the Land of Oz stark crazy."
           
           
            
            
            
           
            
           
          As soon as breakfast 
            was over they all went into the Magician's big workshop, where the 
            Glass Cat was lying before the mirror and the Patchwork Girl lay limp 
            and lifeless upon the bench. 
            
            "Now, then," said Dr. Pipt, in a brisk tone, "we shall perform one 
            of the greatest feats of magic possible to man, even in this marvelous 
            Land of Oz. In no other country could it be done at all. I think we 
            ought to have a little music while the Patchwork Girl comes to life. 
            It is pleasant to reflect that the first sounds her golden ears will 
            hear will be delicious music." 
            
            As he spoke he went to a phonograph, which was screwed fast to a small 
            table, and wound up the spring of the instrument and adjusted the 
            big gold horn. 
            
            "The music my servant will usually hear," remarked Margolotte, "will 
            be my orders to do her work. But I see no harm in allowing her to 
            listen to this unseen band while she wakens to her first realization 
            of life. My orders will beat the band, afterward." 
            
            The phonograph was now playing a stirring march tune and the Magician 
            unlocked his cabinet and took out the gold bottle containing the Powder 
            of Life. 
            
            They all bent over the bench on which the Patchwork Girl reclined. 
            Unc Nunkie and Margolotte stood behind, near the windows, Ojo at one 
            side and the Magician in front, where he would have freedom to sprinkle 
            the powder. The Glass Cat came near, too, curious to watch the important 
            scene. 
            
            "All ready?" asked Dr. Pipt. 
            
            "All is ready," answered his wife. 
            
            So the Magician leaned over and shook from the bottle some grains 
            of the wonderful Powder, and they fell directly on the Patchwork Girl's 
            head and arms. 
          
           
           
           
           
           
          
          CHAPTER FIVE 
            - A TERRIBLE ACCIDENT
          "IT will take a few minutes 
            for this powder to do its work," remarked the Magician, sprinkling 
            the body up and down with much care. 
            
            
          But suddenly the Patchwork 
            Girl threw up one arm, which knocked the bottle of powder from the 
            crooked man's hand and sent it flying across the room. Unc Nunkie 
            and Margolotte were so startled that they both leaped backward and 
            bumped together, and Unc's head joggled the shelf above them and upset 
            the bottle containing the Liquid of Petrifaction. 
          
             The Magician uttered such a wild cry that Ojo jumped 
            away and the Patchwork Girl sprang after him and clasped her stuffed 
            arms around him in terror. The Glass Cat snarled and hid under the 
            table, and so it was that when the powerful Liquid of Petrifaction 
            was spilled it fell only upon the wife of the Magician and the uncle 
            of Ojo. With these two the charm worked promptly. They stood motionless 
            and stiff as marble statues, in exactly the positions they were in 
            when the Liquid struck them. 
            
            Ojo pushed the Patchwork Girl away and ran to Unc Nunkie, filled with 
            a terrible fear for the only friend and protector he had ever known. 
            When he grasped Unc's hand it was cold and hard. Even the long gray 
            beard was solid marble. The Crooked Magician was dancing around the 
            room in a frenzy of despair, calling upon his wife to forgive him, 
            to speak to him, to come to life again! 
            
            The Patchwork Girl, quickly recovering from her fright, now came nearer 
            and looked from one to another of the people with deep interest. Then 
            she looked at herself and laughed. Noticing the mirror, she stood 
            before it and examined her extraordinary features with amazement—her 
            button eyes, 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. Then she laughed again, long and merrily, and the Glass 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 thoroughly delightful. I'm an Original, 
            if you please, and therefore incomparable. Of all the comic, absurd, 
            rare and amusing creatures the world contains, I must be the supreme 
            freak. Who but poor Margolotte could have managed to invent such an 
            unreasonable being as I? But I'm glad—I'm awfully glad!—that I'm just 
            what I am, and nothing else." 
            
            "Be quiet, will you?" cried the frantic Magician; "be quiet and let 
            me think! If I don't think I shall go mad." 
            
            "Think ahead," said the Patchwork Girl, seating herself in a chair. 
            "Think all you want to. I don't mind." 
            
            "Gee! but I'm tired playing that tune," called the phonograph, speaking 
            through its horn in a 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 the phonograph." 
            
            He went up to it and found that the gold bottle that contained the 
            precious powder had dropped upon the stand and scattered its life-giving 
            grains over the machine. The phonograph was very much alive, and began 
            dancing a jig with the legs of the table to which it was attached, 
            and this dance so annoyed Dr. Pipt that he kicked the thing into a 
            corner and pushed a bench against it, to hold it quiet. 
            
            "You were bad enough before," said the Magician, resentfully; "but 
            a live phonograph is enough to drive every sane person in the Land 
            of Oz stark crazy." 
           
          
           
          "No insults, please," 
            answered the phonograph in a surly tone. "You did it, my boy; don't 
            blame me." 
            
            "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 cried, and grabbed up 
            the golden bottle, with which he ran to Margolotte. 
            
            Said the Patchwork Girl:
          "Higgledy, piggledy, 
            dee— 
          What fools magicians 
            be! 
          His head's so thick 
            
          He can't think quick, 
            
          So he takes advice 
            from me." 
           
          Standing upon the bench, for he was 
            so crooked he could not reach the top of his wife's head in any other 
            way, Dr. Pipt began shaking the bottle. But not a grain of powder 
            came out.60 He pulled off the cover, glanced within, and then threw 
            the bottle from him with a wail of despair. 
            
            "Gone—gone! Every bit gone," he cried. "Wasted on that miserable phonograph 
            when it might have saved my dear wife!" 
            
            Then the Magician bowed his head on his crooked arms and began to 
            cry. Ojo was sorry for him. He went up to the sorrowful 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 both feet and both hands," was the agonized reply. 
            "Six years! while poor Margolotte stands watching me as a marble image." 
            
            
            "Can't anything else be done?" asked the Patchwork Girl. The Magician 
            shook his head. Then he seemed to remember something and looked up. 
            
            
            "There is one other compound that would destroy the magic spell of 
            the Liquid of Petrifaction and restore my wife and Unc Nunkie to life," 
            said he. "It may be hard to find the things I need to make this magic 
            compound, but if they were found I could do in an instant what will 
            otherwise take six long, weary years of stirring kettles with both 
            hands and both feet." 
            
            "All right; let's find the things, then," suggested the Patchwork 
            Girl. "That seems a lot more sensible than those stirring times with 
            the kettles."