“Certainly,” said the woman. “The cloak was too fine for me to wear, and I needed something bright in my crazy-quilt. So I cut up half of the cloak and made patches of it.”
The witch-queen gave a gasp, and sat down suddenly upon a rickety bench. Princess Fluff walked to the door and stood looking out, that the others might not see the tears of disappointment in her eyes. Bud alone stood scowling in front of the old dame, and presently he said to her, in a harsh tone:
“You ought to be smothered with your own crazy-quilt for daring to cut up the fairy cloak!”
“The fairy cloak!” echoed Dame Dingle. “What do you mean?”
“That cloak was a gift to my sister from the fairies,” said Bud; “and it had a magic charm. Aren’t you afraid the fairies will punish you for what you have done?”
“‘WHERE IS THE CLOAK?’ CRIED THE THREE, IN A BREATH.”
Dame Dingle was greatly disturbed.
“How could I know it?” she asked, anxiously; “how could I know it was a magic cloak that old Edi gave to me?”
“Well, it was; and woven by the fairies themselves,” retorted the boy. “And a whole nation is in danger because you have wickedly cut it up.”