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Baker, Karle Wilson, 1878-1960

"The Garden of the Plynck"


And just then they saw one of the Gunki rushing off down the road as
fast as his feet could carry him.
The Plynck drew a sobbing breath of relief. "Don't cry, dear--stand
still," she said, finding time at last to feel sorry for Sara. "We'll
soon have it out now, when Schlorge gets here."
Sara stood as still as she could, for the tickling. "What is it?" she
ventured to ask, tremulously.
"It's a Zizz, dear," said the Plynck, soothingly. "He flew into your
dimple and got stuck in the sugar left there from your last smile. You
should have wiped it off," she added, very gently. "Standing so close
to the pool has made it sticky, and now the poor little Zizz--"
"I meant to take off my dimples entirely," said Sara, her lip
beginning to tremble again.
"Never mind, dear," said the Plynck. "It will be all right now. I see
Schlorge coming with his forceps."
And sure enough, in a moment Schlorge came panting up, with his
forceps in his hair, as usual. Very deftly he extricated the poor
little Zizz, and held it out for Sara to see, still buzzing its wings
as furiously as it could, with so much syrup on them.
The Teacup fluttered down, and they all looked at it with mingled
sympathy and curiosity. The mixture seemed to agree with it, too, for
the familiar faint, pale-blue "zizzing" sound began to come from its
wings.


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