?"

The Plynck looked at her in surprise. "Why, didn't you bring them with
you?" she said. Then, suddenly, she noticed how threateningly the
Snimmy was dancing and squeaking around Sara's feet, and how Sara was
shrinking away from him.

"He won't hurt you," she began. "He's perfectly kind and harmless,
aside from his mania for dimples. He still smells the piece under the
Teacup." Then, all at once, she grew rigid, and her golden eyes began
to leap up and down like frightened flames.

"It's the ones in your hand!" she shrieked. "In your hand! Sit down
for your life!"

Sara at first thought she had said, "Run for your life," and had
indeed taken two-elevenths of a step; but when she realized that the
Plynck had said, "Sit down for your life," she sat down precisely
where she was, as if Jimmy had pulled a chair out from under her, on
the very ice-cream brick her feet stood on. She realized that in a
crisis like this obedience was the only safe thing. And the instant
she touched the pavement, the Snimmy gave a great gulping sob and hid
his face in his hands; and small, grainy tears the size of gum-drops
began to trickle through them and fall into his vest-pocket.

The Echo of the Plynck in the water gave a rippling laugh of relief.
"Well," she said, "it's a mercy you remembered that. Perhaps you don't
know, my dear," she said, turning to Sara, "that no Snimmy can endure
to see a mortal sit down. It simply breaks their hearts. See, he's
even forgotten about the dimples."

And indeed, the Snimmy was standing before her, overcome by remorse.
He was holding his shoe in his hand in the most gentlemanly manner,
and Sara forgave him at once when she saw how sorry and ashamed he
was.

"I--hope you'll try to--to--to excuse me, Miss," he sobbed, humbly
offering her a handful of gum-drops. "Them dimples--" here, for a
moment, his nose began to wink and his feet pranced a little, but he
looked closely to see that she was still sitting down, and controlled
himself. "Them dimples--" he began again; but he could say no more.
The gum-drops began falling all around like hail-stones, so fast that
Sara felt that she ought to help him all she could--without getting
up--to get them into his vest-pocket.

The clatter of the gum-drops again attracted the attention of the
Plynck's Echo, who said, kindly, "Go and take a nap, now, Snimmy, and
you'll feel better."

The Snimmy lifted his shoe and tried to reply, but he only gave a
respect