"I doubt it," said the cuckoo. "_Some_ may have been, but not lots. And some may have thought they had been there who hadn't really been there at all. And as to those who have been there, you may be sure of one thing--they were not _taken_, they found their own way. No one ever was _taken_ to fairyland--to the real fairyland. They may have been taken to the neighbouring countries, but not to fairyland itself." "And how is one ever to find one's own way there?" asked Griselda. "That I cannot tell you either," replied the cuckoo. "There are many roads there; you may find yours some day. And if ever you do find it, be sure you keep what you see of it well swept and clean, and then you may see further after a while. Ah, yes, there are many roads and many doors into fairyland!" "Doors!" cried Griselda. "Are there any doors into fairyland in this house?" "Several," said the cuckoo; "but don't waste your time looking for them at present. It would be no use." "Then how will you amuse me?" inquired Griselda, in a rather disappointed tone. "Don't you care to go anywhere except to fairyland?" said the cuckoo. "Oh yes, there are lots of places I wouldn't mind seeing. Not geography sort of places--it would be just like lessons to go to India and Africa and all those places--but _queer_ places, like the mines where the goblins make diamonds and precious stones, and the caves down under the sea where the mermaids live. And--oh, I've just thought--now I'm so nice and little, I _would_ like to go all over the mandarins' palace in the great saloon." "That can be easily managed," said the cuckoo; "but--excuse me for an instant," he exclaimed suddenly. He gave a spring forward and disappeared. Then Griselda heard his voice outside the doors, "Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo." It was three o'clock. The doors opened again to let him through, and he re-settled himself on his chair. "As I was saying," he went on, "nothing could be easier. But that palace, as you call it, has an entrance on the other side, as well as the one you know." "Another door, do you mean?" said Griselda. "How funny! Does it go through the wall? And where does it lead to?" "It leads," replied the cuckoo, "it leads to the country of the Nodding Mandarins." "_What_ fun!" exclaimed Griselda, clapping her hands. "Cuckoo, do let us go there. How can we get down? You can fly, but must I slide down the chain again?" "Oh dear, no," said the cuckoo, "by no means. You have only to stretch out your feather mantle, flap it as if it was wings--so"--he flapped his own wings encouragingly--"wish, and there you'll be." "Where?" said Griselda bewilderedly. "Wherever you wish to be, of course," said the cuckoo. "Are you ready? Here goes." "Wait--wait a moment," cried Griselda. "Where am I to wish to be?" "Bless the child!" exclaimed the cuckoo. "Where _do_ you wish to be? You said you wanted to visit the country of the Nodding Mandarins."