The woman paid no attention to him whatever. She carefully selected a new needle, threaded it after several attempts, and began anew to stitch the patch.
“Twenty!” she mumbled in a low voice; “twenty-one—”
But now Zixi snatched the work from her hands and exclaimed;
“If you do not answer at once I will give you a good beating!”
“That is all right,” said the dame, looking up at them through her spectacles; “the patches take twenty-one stitches on each side, and if I lose my count I get mixed up. But it’s all right now. What do you want?”
“The cloak the old shepherd gave you,” replied the queen, sharply.
“The pretty cloak with the bright colors?” asked the dame, calmly.
“Yes! Yes!” answered the three, excitedly.
“Why, that very patch I was sewing was cut from that cloak,” said Dame Dingle. “Isn’t it lovely? And it brightens the rest of the crazy-quilt beautifully.”
“Do you mean that you have cut up my magic cloak?” asked Fluff, in amazement, while the others were too horrified to speak.