, here and there, but Sara felt sure she would know the right
one when she saw it. And sure enough, there it was, with the smithy in
the shade of it, and the Koopf blowing up the fire in his forge with a
pair of puff-ball bellows. She knew now why he had hurried home so
fast: it was to put on his apron. It was of the finest mouse-hide, and
he was plainly very proud of it.

He took the dimples from Sara at once, and showed a keen professional
interest in them. He assured her that he had never seen a finer pair.
"But you must take better care of them," he said.

He seemed so kind and interested that Sara thought perhaps he would
help her with a problem she had been revolving in her mind ever since
the accident. (She had fastened the problem on a little stick with a
pin, like the paper windmills Jimmy made, so that she could turn it
around very easily, and so see all sides of it.) So she asked the
Koopf, quite respectfully,

"What ought I to do with them, when I shut the doors and come in?"

"Well," said the Koopf, judiciously, "the Plynck's Echo should have
seen to that, first thing. Ought to have had a dimple-holder at the
gate. Ought to know the Snimmy, by this time. A good fellow--can't
help his failing. We used to keep a dimple-holder there all the time,
but it's been so long, as I told you, since we've had anybody come
along that was dimpliferous, to speak of. We've got sort of careless,
I guess. I've got a very nice stock, here; I'll put one up before you
go, so you'll know where to find it next time." As he spoke he took
down from a shelf behind him a sort of receptacle which looked rather
like a soap-bubble, rather like a gazing-globe; except that it had a
tiny opening at the top, and a cushion of whipped cream in the bottom.
Then he picked up from his bench the dimples, which he had been
mending as he talked.

"It's a good thing the Snimmy can't see 'em now," he said, holding
them off at arm's length and looking at them with frank admiration.
"They're as good as new. Now let me show you what to do with 'em next
time you come."

So saying, he dropped them into the holder, where they looked very
pretty sparkling on the whipped cream cushion.

"Now," he said, "you carry them, and I'll bring the pedestal."

He tucked the pedestal under his arm, and they started back down the
road together. It was very lovely to be trudging along under the late
clear sky, through the sweet-smelling pollen-dust, and now and th