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.
"Poor little thing!" said the Echo of the Plynck. "Why will they persist in doing it? Flying right into the syrup like that!"
"It's on account of the bitterness of their tails," explained Schlorge absently, without looking up from his work.