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Baker, Karle Wilson, 1878-1960

"The Garden of the Plynck"

Besides, it must be confessed that she had caught glimpses of
parcels here and there. The Plynck, she was sure, had one under her
right wing; and there was no doubt that one was sticking out from
under the coat-tails of the First Gunkus.
"We are to celebrate all day in your honor, Sara," added Pirlaps. "And
this evening, when you are ready to go home, Schlorge will made you an
address of welcome. But what can be keeping Avrillia?"
They all looked down the pathway, but no Avrillia was in sight.
Suddenly the Echo of the Plynck spoke from the pool.
"The guest of honor always goes and fetches anybody who doesn't come,"
she said.
"Does she?" asked Sara, opening her eyes wide; but Pirlaps said, "To
be sure! I had forgotten. Come on, Sara. Let's go bring Avrillia."
Sara was always glad to go to Avrillia's lovely house, though she
couldn't help thinking as she ran that this was one manner Mother
failed to remind her of, whenever she was overhauling her manners for
any especial use.
All was still about the beautiful little house where Avrillia lived,
and Sara looked at it lovingly, for she had a sort of feeling
somewhere deep under her little apron that she would not see it again
for a long while. Pirlaps, who knew Avrillia pretty well, did not look
in the pink bed-room, or the kitchen, or the sitting-room; no, he went
straight to the balcony.


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