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.
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