Griselda climbed up the bank, and as from there she could look down on the butterfly show, she saw it beautifully. The long strings of butterflies twisted in and out of each other in the most wonderful way, like ribbons of every hue plaiting themselves and then in an instant unplaiting themselves again. Then the king and queen placed themselves in the centre, and round and round in moving circles twisted and untwisted the brilliant bands of butterflies. "It's like a kaleidoscope," said Griselda; "and now it's like those twisty-twirly dissolving views that papa took me to see once. It's _just_ like them. Oh, how pretty! Cuckoo, are they doing it all on purpose to please me?" "A good deal," said the cuckoo. "Stand up and clap your hands loud three times, to show them you're pleased." Griselda obeyed. "Clap" number one--all the butterflies rose up into the air in a cloud; clap number two--they all fluttered and twirled and buzzed about, as if in the greatest excitement; clap number three--they all turned in Griselda's direction with a rush. "They're going to kiss you, Griselda," cried the cuckoo. Griselda felt her breath going. Up above her was the vast feathery cloud of butterflies, fluttering, _rushing_ down upon her. "Cuckoo, cuckoo," she screamed, "they'll suffocate me. Oh, cuckoo!" "Shut your eyes, and clap your hands loud, very loud," called out the cuckoo. And just as Griselda clapped her hands, holding her precious handkerchief between her teeth, she heard him give his usual cry, "Cuckoo, cuckoo." _Clap_--where were they all? Griselda opened her eyes--garden, butterflies, cuckoo, all had disappeared. She was in bed, and Dorcas was knocking at the door with the hot water. "Miss Grizzel said I was to wake you at your usual time this morning, missie," she said. "I hope you don't feel too tired to get up." "Tired! I should think not," replied Griselda. "I was awake this morning ages before you, I can tell you, my dear Dorcas. Come here for a minute, Dorcas, please," she went on. "There now, sniff my handkerchief. What do you think of that?" "It's beautiful," said Dorcas. "It's out of the big blue chinay bottle on your auntie's table, isn't it, missie?" "Stuff and nonsense," replied Griselda; "it's scent of my own, Dorcas. Aunt Grizzel never had any like it in her life. There now! Please give me my slippers, I want to get up and look over my lessons for Mr. Kneebreeches before he comes. Dear me," she added to herself, as she was putting on her slippers, "how pretty my feet did look with the blue butterfly shoes! It was very good of the cuckoo to take me there, but I don't think I shall ever wish to be a butterfly again, now I know how hard they work! But I'd like to do my lessons well to-day. I fancy it'll please the dear old cuckoo." [Illustration] VIII MASTER PHIL [Illustration]