The next thing was to decide how to get their captive home. 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. It kept them all amused by the happy, ridiculous little
sounds it made, giggling and scuttling and fluttering about in the
basket. Even the Brown Teddy-Bear smiled once or twice.

Toward sundown they reached the Smithy, and Schlorge had soon turned
his anvil into an operating table, on which they laid the
uncomplaining little sufferer. The Snimmy's wife said there were
plenty of onions at home in the sugar-bowl, and Schlorge offered to
send a Gunkus after them; but the Kewpie would not hear of it, so
Schlorge mended him quite quickly and neatly without an anaesthetic at
all. He declared himself able to walk, at once, but they persuaded him
to let the Gunki carry him to the gate on the stretcher. And so they
all escorted Sara and her dolls back to the dimple-holder in state.

The Snoodle was awake, and howling lonesomely; but he was soon
frisking happily about their feet. The Plynck flew at once to her
branch and looked into the pool, and there sat her Echo.

"Have a pleasant day?" the latter asked, inscrutably.