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"If some of you would only think of something to make me frown I can't even think of any disagreeable things today!" "You're frowning now!" suddenly cried the First Gunkus, waving his shoe; and they all forgave him his lack of respectfulness, because he was plainly so excited. "Hold her up, Schlorge!" cried Pirlaps, running forward. "There Sara hold that expression just a moment.
Schlorge was quite sure it couldn't break the net; still, he thought it best to accept the Brown Teddy-Bear's suggestion that they put it, net and all, into the Snimmy's wife's basket, and tie the lid securely. "'Specially since we have to go around by the Smithy," he added, "and patch up our brittle friend, here." So they made the little laugh secure in the basket, and went on toward the Smithy.
Schlorge had already dragged down from a shelf three extra pairs of bellows one brand-new one and two old ones; and he was busy at his forge mending and putting them in order. All the while, however, he was listening anxiously to Pirlaps.
"What is it?" she cried, jumping up and down. "Oh, what is it?" "It's one of the Zizzes!" cried the Plynck. "Where are the forceps? Run for Schlorge won't somebody please run for Schlorge?" She sat fluttering her lovely pink plumes and gazing around with her sweet, wild, golden eyes in such acute distress that the sight of her grieved and terrified Sara even more than the awful tickling.
Besides, it must be confessed that she had caught glimpses of parcels here and there. The Plynck, she was sure, had one under her right wing; and there was no doubt that one was sticking out from under the coat-tails of the First Gunkus. "We are to celebrate all day in your honor, Sara," added Pirlaps. "And this evening, when you are ready to go home, Schlorge will made you an address of welcome.
"Sara, Schlorge did not bring you a present or respond to a Toast, because he has made you an address of welcome. You have spent many happy days with us, and will soon be leaving. The time has come at last for us to bid you welcome.
She looked quite imperturbable again, and quite cerulean. "Oh, I have ways of doing things," she answered, preening her feathers. And the Plynck was so mystified that she did not say another word. Really, she didn't have time, for Schlorge strolled back into their midst at that moment, carrying a butterfly net he had just finished.
Usually Sara was very shy of strangers; but this gentleman looked so pleasant that she had almost made up her mind to speak to him when she saw Schlorge running wildly back up the path. "Where's a stump?" he panted. "I forgot where's a stump?" He spoke so loudly that the gentleman in tennis-flannels heard him and looked around. "Oh, it's you, Schlorge," he said.
But Schlorge looked at it doubtfully; and, indeed, Sara saw that it was of chocolate, and rather soft where the gentleman had been sitting on it. "I don't want to soil my soul," mumbled Schlorge, standing on one foot and looking down at the sole of the other, very much agitated and embarrassed. "That's true," said the gentleman politely; "I never stand on it."
Very quietly then, while the Fractions were busy drinking, Schlorge and Pirlaps and Avrillia and Sara and the Snimmy and the Snimmy's wife slipped out of the Garden and down the path to the Dimplesmithy. They didn't think it necessary to tell the Plynck, who was too much crushed to be of use, or the Teacup, for whom they dreaded the slightest shock.
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