yes, please, cuckoo?"

"Turn round slowly, three times. That will give the dew time to take
effect," said the cuckoo. "Here goes--one--two--three. There, now."

Griselda opened her eyes.

CHAPTER VII.

BUTTERFLY-LAND.

"I'd be a butterfly."

Griselda opened her eyes.

What did she see?

The loveliest, loveliest garden that ever or never a little girl's eyes
saw. As for describing it, I cannot. I must leave a good deal to your
fancy. It was just a _delicious_ garden. There was a charming mixture of
all that is needed to make a garden perfect--grass, velvety lawn rather;
water, for a little brook ran tinkling in and out, playing bo-peep among
the bushes; trees, of course, and flowers, of course, flowers of every
shade and shape. But all these beautiful things Griselda did not at
first give as much attention to as they deserved; her eyes were so
occupied with a quite unusual sight that met them.

This was butterflies! Not that butterflies are so very uncommon; but
butterflies, as Griselda saw them, I am quite sure, children, none of
you ever saw, or are likely to see. There were such enormous numbers of
them, and the variety of their colours and sizes was so great. They were
fluttering about everywhere; the garden seemed actually alive with them.

Griselda stood for a moment in silent delight, feasting her eyes on the
lovely things before her, enjoying the delicious sunshine which kissed
her poor little bare feet, and seemed to wrap her all up in its warm
embrace. Then she turned to her little friend.

"Cuckoo," she said, "I thank you _so_ much. This _is_ fairyland, at
last!"

The cuckoo smiled, I was going to say, but that would be a figure of
speech only, would it not? He shook his head gently.

"No, Griselda," he said kindly; "this is only butterfly-land."

"_Butterfly_-land!" repeated Griselda, with a little disappointment in
her tone.

"Well," said the cuckoo, "it's where you were wishing to be yesterday,
isn't it?"

Griselda did not particularly like these allusions to "yesterday." She
thought it would be as well to change the subject.

"It's a beautiful place, whatever it is," she said, "and I'm sure,
cuckoo, I'm _very_ much obliged to you for bringing me here. Now may I
run about and look at everything? How delicious it is to feel the warm
sunshine again! I didn't know how cold I was. Look, cuckoo, my toes and
fingers are quite blue; they're only just beginning to come right agai