beverage marked “Cardinal.”  It was so heady that it even had a topknot, and it served admirably to counteract the depressing effect of the Snimmy’s speech.  The next Toast was responded to by the First and Second Gunki; and its subject was, “Sara’s Tears—­May There Be No Mad and Few Sad.”  The speech was in the form of a duet, rendered by the Gunki with deep feeling, and accompanied by the Plynck and her Echo with liquid-sounding arpeggios on their lyres, that were most appropriate.  The Toast was old-fashioned jelly-cake, with Robinsong wine.  Avrillia responded to a thin slice, whose subject was “Nothing”; everybody clapped when this subject was announced, for they felt that the subject was in the hands of an authority, and would be handled in a masterly manner.  Nor were they disappointed; Avrillia’s speech was in the form of a long poem, which she recited from memory, looking very wild and lovely.  The Toast was silver-cake, with Veerie wine.  Pirlaps himself, although he was toastmaster, responded to a Toast called “Sara’s Questions—­Bless Their Hearts!” and his Toast was chocolate-cake, with Wren wine.  The Snoodle was too young to make a speech, but they had taught him to respond to a simple little Toast, “On Being Older than Snoodles,” and it was very charming to hear him lisp, “How do you do, Toast?” like the others.  His Toast was a plum-cake; and you should have seen how pleased he was when Sara took out the little silver plum-extractor, and used it like an adept!  And the Teacup, having responded to a Toast with the subject, “If Only My Saucer Could Have Known Sara,” made a very graceful but agitated little speech that brought out many cobweb pocket-handkerchiefs.

Of course that is not all the Toasts, nor even half of them; they kept it up until it was growing quite late, and at last Pirlaps said,

“Sara, Schlorge did not bring you a present or respond to a Toast, because he has made you an address of welcome.  You have spent many happy days with us, and will soon be leaving.  The time has come at last for us to bid you welcome.  We will not dwell on the natural sadness of the occasion; rather, let us rejoice in the delights we have enjoyed together, and hope for a recurrence of these fair and memorable days.  Sehlorge!”

Schlorge, overcome with pride and embarrassment, rose from his seat.  He started around the pool with much dignity; then his composure suddenly gave way.  “Where’s the stump?” he began to shout wildly.  “Where’s the—­where’s the—­”

“There, there, Schlorge, you’re walking right to it,” said Pirlaps, soothingly, hastening after him and laying a hand upon his arm.  Then, as Schlorge scrambled upon it, Pirlaps raised his hand to command attention.

“Schlorge wishes me to state,” he said, in his pleasant, clear voice, “that the gesture he will now make goes with the first line of his address.  He cannot make it at that point because his hands will be already arranged.  But I will request that you all observe it carefully, and hold it in mind until it is needed.”