So Sara gave the faithful creatures two kisses apiece, which left them beaming.
"Do—do you like them as well as dimples?" she asked. "Because, if you'd like dimples, I'll give you some of the Snimmy's."
But the Gunki felt themselves honored beyond any Snimmy who had ever sniffed. They stuck their noses into the air and strutted along like drum-majors.
"Dimples is for folks with tails," said the First Gunkus.
It was blue dusk and starlight when they reentered the Garden. Sara, with her friends standing a little apart to enjoy the fun, slipped unseen quite close to the prose-bush, where the Snimmy lay with his long debilitating nose on his paws, looking up at the stars. Sara waited until the nose began to quiver and twitch; and then she suddenly emptied her whole handkerchief full of dimples out before him.
Sniff-gobble-gulp! Was there ever such haste and excitement? Sara jumped up and down with delight, and everybody in the Garden laughed. As for the Snimmy, he was quite overcome, and began to shed gum-drops of joy.
"For once he's had a full meal," said his wife, grimly indulgent. As for Sara, she ran off, laughing, to tell Jimmy how funny he had looked.
The Plynck waked up from her first nap and rustled her fragrant plumes.
"Was that Sara?" she asked of her Echo.
"Of course," said the Echo. "You've been asleep."