And there at her elbow, as luck would have it, stood a Koopf. Up to
this time, Sara had not been able to tell a Koopf from a Gunkus. To be
sure, there isn't any difference, really; but you would think that any
fairly imaginative child ought to be able to tell one. However, Sara
now saw that the ground was swarming with Gunki.

"Do you know who Schlorge is?" asked Sara, rather timidly.

At first the Koopf only grinned. "Guess I do," he managed to say at
last. Then he surprised and rather startled her by winking his left
ear at her. "He's the best dimplesmith ever," he said at last.
"He's--he's--" he began looking all about him, vaguely and a little
wildly. But, just as Sara was growing a little afraid of him, his
attention suddenly came back to her with a kind, businesslike
interest. "Need some repairs?" he asked. "Some fractured dimples,
maybe?"

"Yes, sir," said Sara, earnestly. "I have most of them here in my
hand." She opened her hand and showed him the pretty little pieces.

"Where's the rest?" he inquired, with another grin. "Your plump friend,
here, sitting on 'em?"

Sara nodded.

The Koopf stooped and picked up one of the gum-drops that had rolled
out of the Snimmy's vest-pocket. "Thought so," he said. "Happens every
now and then. Only lately there ain't been anybody here that was
dimpliferous, to speak of."