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Sara clapped her hands, and drew the Teacup aside.  “I’d like to take some to the Snimmy,” she explained.  “He wanted mine so.  Do you think I might?”

“Why, bless the child!” cried the Teacup.  She looked pleased and flustered and doubtful, all at once; for she wasn’t used to taking so much responsibility.  “That’s very dear and generous of you, I’m sure.  It’s never been done, has it?” she asked, turing to the Gunki, who, for their part, were so surprised that they only blinked.  “No, I’m sure it’s never been done; but I don’t see how it can do the least harm.  Why, yes, my dear—­I wouldn’t refuse you the pleasure.”

So Sara picked out a dozen of the largest dimples, and paid gladly with two kisses.  Then, though she could hardly bear to leave the pretty village, with the laughter always echoing over it like bells, she grew all at once terribly impatient to take the Snimmy his dimples.

“It will be such fun to feed him,” she said.

For a while Sara was too much absorbed in anticipation to notice that something was the matter with the Gunki.  Then, all of a sudden, she noticed that they were looking crestfallen and chagrined.

Sara was sorry to notice this because they had been very kind to her all through this rather trying day.  She began to feel sure that she had in some way hurt or offended them; and while she was wondering how she could have done it, and how she might make amends, the First Gunkus saw her looking at him.

“I’d be willing to do anything I could for you, Miss,” he blurted out, turning his shoe awkwardly round and round in his hand.

“What’s more, we done all we could,” said the Second Gunkus, looking deeply hurt.

“Oh!” said Sara, who now understood.  “Why-why!  You’ve been so kind to me!  I’d love to repay you in some way!  I haven’t any money with me,” she went on doubtfully,—­“or any postage stamps,—­or any ginger-snaps—­ Do you—­do you like kisses?”

The First Gunkus drew the back of his hand across his mouth and giggled.

The Second Gunkus dropped his shoe, and fumbled about trying to pick it up.

“Don’t we, though!” said both of them, at last.

So Sara gave the faithful creatures two kisses apiece, which left them beaming.

“Do—­do you like them as well as dimples?” she asked.  “Because, if you’d like dimples, I’ll give you some of the Snimmy’s.”

But the Gunki felt themselves honored beyond any Snimmy who had ever sniffed.  They stuck their noses into the air and strutted along like drum-majors.

“Dimples is for folks with tails,” said the First Gunkus.

It was blue dusk and starlight when they reentered the Garden.  Sara, with her friends standing a little apart to enjoy the fun, slipped unseen quite close to the prose-bush, where the Snimmy lay with his long debilitating nose on his paws, looking up at the stars.  Sara waited until the nose began to quiver and twitch; and then she suddenly emptied her whole handkerchief full of dimples out before him.

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