would be a figure of speech only, would it not? He shook his head gently.
"No, Griselda," he said kindly; "this is only butterfly-land."
"Butterfly-land!" repeated Griselda, with a little disappointment in her tone.
"Well," said the cuckoo, "it's where you were wishing to be yesterday, isn't it?"
Griselda did not particularly like these allusions to "yesterday." She thought it would be as well to change the subject.
"It's a beautiful place, whatever it is," she said, "and I'm sure, cuckoo, I'm very much obliged to you for bringing me here. Now may I run about and look at everything? How delicious it is to feel the warm sunshine again! I didn't know how cold I was. Look, cuckoo, my toes and fingers are quite blue; they're only just beginning to come right again. I suppose the sun always shines here. How nice it must be to be a butterfly; don't
