"You _do_ look nice now," said the cuckoo, hopping back a few steps and
looking up at Griselda approvingly; "but it's time for the feast to
begin, as it won't do for us to be late."
The king and queen appeared to understand. They floated away from
Griselda's hands and settled themselves, this time, at one end of a
beautiful little grass plot or lawn, just below the terrace where grew
the large-leaved plant. This was evidently their dining-room, for no
sooner were they in their place than butterflies of every kind and
colour came pouring in, in masses, from all directions. Butterflies
small and butterflies large; butterflies light and butterflies dark;
butterflies blue, pink, crimson, green, gold-colour--_every_ colour, and
far, far more colours than you could possibly imagine.
They all settled down, round the sides of the grassy dining-table, and
in another minute a number of small white butterflies appeared, carrying
among them flower petals carefully rolled up, each containing a drop of
liquid. One of these was presented to the king, and then one to the
queen, who each sniffed at their petal for an instant, and then passed
it on to the butterfly next them, whereupon fresh petals were handed to
them, which they again passed on.
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