ge.

"He thinks he's dreaming, I suppose," she said to herself with a smile.
Then she whispered softly--

"Phil, dear, don't come to play with me to-morrow, for I can't come. But
come the day after. I'll be at the wood-path then."

"Welly well," murmured Phil. Then he put out his two arms towards
Griselda, all without opening his eyes, and she, bending down, kissed
him softly.

"Phil's so sleepy," he whispered, like a baby almost. Then he turned
over and went to sleep more soundly than before.

"That'll do," said the cuckoo. "Come along, Griselda."

Griselda obediently made her way to the place whence the cuckoo's voice
seemed to come.

"Shut your eyes and put your arms round my neck again," said the cuckoo.

She did not hesitate this time. It all happened just as before. There
came the same sort of rushy sound; then the cuckoo stopped, and Griselda
opened her eyes.

They were up in the air again--a good way up, too, for some grand old
elms that stood beside the farmhouse were gently waving their topmost
branches a yard or two from where the cuckoo was poising himself and
Griselda.

"Where shall we go to now?" he said. "Or would you rather go home? Are
you tired?"

"Tired!" exclaimed Griselda. "I should rather think not. How could I be
tired, cuckoo?"

"Very well, don't excite yourself about nothing, whatever you do," said
the cuckoo. "Say where you'd like to go."

"How can I?" said Griselda. "You know far more nice places than I do."

"You don't care to go back to the mandarins, or the butterflies, I
suppose?" asked the cuckoo.

"No, thank you," said Griselda; "I'd like something new. And I'm not
sure that I care for seeing any more countries of that kind, unless you
could take me to the _real_ fairyland."

"_I_ can't do that, you know," said the cuckoo.

Just then a faint "soughing" sound among the branches suggested another
idea to Griselda.

"Cuckoo," she exclaimed, "take me to the sea. It's _such_ a time since I
saw the sea. I can fancy I hear it; do take me to see it."

[Illustration]

X

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON

[Illustration]

"That after supper time has come,
And silver dews the meadow steep,
And all is silent in the home,
And even nurses are asleep,
That be it late, or be it soon,
Upon this lovely night in June
They both will step into the moon."

"Very well," said the cuckoo. "You would like to look about you a little
on the way,