shoe in his hand out of respect for her; so he caught the tear in his
shoe with the greatest presence of mind, and ran down here with it
before any actual harm was done. What the child was crying about I
can't imagine; though, for that matter, why any nice child should
bring tears into the Garden--"

"Would it be worse than the Fractions?" asked Sara, hastily.

"It would," said the First Gunkus, in bass.

"It would," said the Second Gunkus, in the solemnest second bass.

"Much, much worse," said the Teacup, in her soft, anxious tremolo.
"One snow remedied that, you see; but if a tear fell--but oh, dear,
let's don't talk about it! My handle is so consanguineous, and I
forgot to ask the Plynck--and--and--"

The poor old lady was evidently growing hysterical herself; so the
faithful Gunki hastily put up their hatbands, seized Sara by the arm,
and again began hurrying toward the Rainbow Gate. The Teacup, having
again to put her mind on the task of keeping up with them, regained
her composure--at least as much of it as she had ever had since her
Saucer was broken.

Once inside the little arch, the Gunki stopped and relaxed their hold
on Sara's arm. "Now you can cry, Miss," they said, with evident
relief.

"But I don't want to, now," said Sara, wonderingly.