this announcement of the havoc she had wrought by her carelessness;
and now to have brought down upon herself a word like that! She was
almost ready to cry; and to keep from being quite ready, she suggested,
tremulously, "Do you suppose I could go after the onions?"

The Plynck looked at her in surprise. "Why, didn't you bring them with
you?" she said. Then, suddenly, she noticed how threateningly the
Snimmy was dancing and squeaking around Sara's feet, and how Sara was
shrinking away from him.

"He won't hurt you," she began. "He's perfectly kind and harmless,
aside from his mania for dimples. He still smells the piece under the
Teacup." Then, all at once, she grew rigid, and her golden eyes began
to leap up and down like frightened flames.

"It's the ones in your hand!" she shrieked. "In your hand! Sit down
for your life!"

Sara at first thought she had said, "Run for your life," and had
indeed taken two-elevenths of a step; but when she realized that the
Plynck had said, "Sit down for your life," she sat down precisely
where she was, as if Jimmy had pulled a chair out from under her, on
the very ice-cream brick her feet stood on. She realized that in a
crisis like this obedience was the only safe thing. And the instant
she touched the pavement, the Snimmy gave a great gulping sob and hid
his face in his hands; and small, grainy tears the size of gum-drops
began to trickle through them and fall into his vest-pocket.

The Echo of the Plynck in the water gave a rippling laugh of relief.
"Well," she said, "it's a mercy you remembered that. Perhaps you don't