"What do you know about the cuckoo?" said Griselda.
"He called me," said Phil, "he called me lots of times; and to-day nurse was busy, so I
thought I'd come. And do you know," he added mysteriously, "I do believe the cuckoo's a fairy, and when I find him I'm going to ask him to show me the way to fairyland."
"He says we must all find the way ourselves," said Griselda, quite forgetting to whom she was speaking.
"Does he?" cried Phil, in great excitement. "Do you know him, then? and have you asked him? Oh, do tell me."
Griselda recollected herself. "You couldn't understand," she said. "Some day perhaps I'll tell you—I mean if ever I see you again."
"But I may see you again," said Phil, settling himself down comfortably beside Griselda on her mossy stone. "You'll let me come, won't you? I like to talk about fairies, and nurse doesn't understand. And if the cuckoo knows you, perhaps that's why he called me to come to play with you."
"How did he call you?" asked Griselda.