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Updated: June 14, 2025
She couldn't help loving Avrillia, although she knew that Avrillia was not nearly so fond of her as the Plynck, or Schlorge, or even the Teacup. Yet she would have loved Avrillia, even if she had not been kind to her at all. Now she attracted her attention again by timidly touching her dress. "It it seems a waste," she murmured.
They're all dead, and Schlorge is going to make them into rules for you to break!" A shiver ran through the soft, rosy plumes of the Plynck; she opened her terrified eyes, and when she saw that the good tidings was indeed true, she began to shine and smile down upon them again like a convalescent rainbow.
The Echo of the Plynck might have been useful, only she was still frozen into the pool. The farther they got from the Garden the less blighted and the more natural everything looked; and by the time they reached the road, they would not have suspected, from the look of the country, that destruction was lurking so near.
However, Sara made a great effort, and settled herself to listen to the Toasts politely. The name of this Toast was "Sara's Day Because She is Older than the Snoodle," and the Plynck responded to it. And then she made a speech on the Toast's subject. Avrillia leaned over and Whispered, "Eat it, Sara," and then Sara did. And she didn't have any trouble keeping from being disappointed, after that.
The leaves hung limp and brown from the trees; the blue plush grass, and even the blue bark of the Gugollaph-tree, had turned a most sickly green. The water was frozen in the pool; and, imprisoned below it, she could see the Echo of the Plynck, perfectly stiff, and looking as if she were in some sort of awful trance.
The Plynck, on the other hand, drooped on her accustomed branch like the leaves on the trees, as if she hardly had strength to hold her loosened plumes together.
"I guess I've heard it." "Now, isn't that odd and interesting!" said the Echo to the Plynck. "The child says she has heard it, but never seen it. Here," she added, turning to Sara, and speaking in a louder tone, "we see a great deal of laughter but we never hear it." "Well, and are you going to stand there all day staring?" suddenly put in the wife of the Snimmy from the prose-bush.
The Plynck waked up from her first nap and rustled her fragrant plumes. "Was that Sara?" she asked of her Echo. "Of course," said the Echo. "You've been asleep." "Then it wasn't Sara this morning the strange child with the tears?" Her more practical Echo shrugged her wings. "Go explain to her," she said to the Teacup.
To be sure, it had the pool, and the fountain in the middle, and the moon-dial, like most gardens, and the Gugollaph-tree where the Plynck sat, and a good many prose-bushes besides the one with the hemmed doorknob where the Snimmy lived with his wife.
The Snimmy's wife set all the viands out on the grass, and the Plynck graciously drifted down and took her place at the head of the table. There was a trifle too much sand in the sandwiches, but everything else was perfect; and they all ate as immoderately as people do at picnics. Sara found herself seated next to the Brown Teddy-Bear.
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