She looked up at the clock.
"I don't know even what to wish for," she said to herself. "I don't feel
the least inclined to play at anything, and I shouldn't care to go to
the mandarins again. Oh, cuckoo, cuckoo, I am so dull; couldn't you
think of anything to amuse me?"
It was not near "any o'clock." But after waiting a minute or two, it
seemed to Griselda that she heard the soft sound of "coming" that always
preceded the cuckoo's appearance. She was right. In another moment she
heard his usual greeting, "Cuckoo, cuckoo!"
"Oh, cuckoo!" she exclaimed, "I am so glad you have come at last. I _am_
so dull, and it has nothing to do with lessons this time. It's that I've
got such a bad cold, and my head's aching, and I'm so tired of reading,
all by myself."
"What would you like to do?" said the cuckoo. "You don't want to go to
see the mandarins again?"
"Oh no; I couldn't dance."
"Or the mermaids down under the sea?"
"Oh, dear, no," said Griselda, with a little shiver, "it would be far
too cold. I would just like to stay where I am, if some one would tell
me stories. I'm not even sure that I could listen to stories.
Pages:
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84