d be without, and him
subject to such fits?"

And so saying, she replaced the doorknob, which was now neatly hemmed,
on the front door of the prose-bush, and came down the steps to Sara,
carrying three large onions. She was not a bad-looking person, though
an amnicolist.

She then proceeded to slice the onions very deftly with a tuning-fork,
after which she rubbed the ice-cream of the pavement with the slices,
making a circle all around the Teacup, and another all around Sara,
somewhat like the ring they used to burn about a fire in the grass, to
keep it from spreading. All this time she was talking to them
grumblingly, though she never once looked up.

"I should think anybody'd know better than to bring dimples around
where he is," she said, "and I have my opinion of such. A poor,
hardworking man like him, that tries to act moral. I should think--"

She kept on saying things like this, that made Sara feel very
uncomfortable. But at last she finished her work, and looking
watchfully back over her shoulder at the sleeping Snimmy, she said
grudgingly to them both, "Now get up careful."

Sara rose to her feet, and the Teacup lifted her dainty little skirt
ever so slightly. The minute the perfume from the dimples reached the
Snimmy (he couldn't smell those in Sara's hand, of course, so long as
she was sitting down), he sprang to his feet, quivering; but almost
immediately he caught a whiff of the onions, and sank down again,
entirely overcome, into a deep sleep.

The Teacup arose and shook out her skirts. She picked up the tiny,
sparkling piece of dimple she had been protecting so long, and handed
it prettily to Sara. "Now, my dear," she said, "I think I shall return
to my mistress. I would suggest that you take your dimples to the shop
immediately." So saying, she hopped up into the tree and settled
quietly down beside the dreaming Plynck, taking great care not to
disturb her. And Sara started down the path toward the Dimplesmithy.

The path turned presently into a wide road, very pleasant and
peaceful-looking, and so deep with pollen-dust that Sara's shoes soon
looked as if they were powdered with gold. Sunset sheep came wandering
down the road now and then, and lines of white geese, and once she
passed a little pond where green ducks were quacking and paddling; the
road was so pretty, indeed, that it was hard for her to keep her mind
on finding the Dimplesmithy. There were tall Gugollaph-trees all along
the road