"Horrid!" said Griselda, with a shudder. "Don't let's talk about it any more, cuckoo; tell me your own opinion about what there really is on the other side of the moon."
The cuckoo was silent for a moment. Then suddenly he stopped short in the middle of his flight.
"Would you like to see for yourself, Griselda?" he said. "There would be about time to do it," he added to himself, "and it would fulfil her other wish, too."
"See the moon for myself, do you mean?" cried Griselda, clasping her hands. "I should rather think I would. Will you really take me there, cuckoo?"
"To the other side," said the cuckoo. "I couldn't take you to this side."
"Why not? Not that I'd care to go to this side as much as to the other; for, of course, we can see this side from here. But I'd like to know why you couldn't take me there."
"For reasons," said the cuckoo drily. "I'll give you one if you like. If I took you to this side of the moon you wouldn't be yourself when you got there."
"Who would I be, then?"
"Griselda," said the cuckoo, "I told you
once that there are a great many things you don't know. Now, I'll tell you something more. There are a great many things you're not intended to know."