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From: Lingbeek <>
Subject: [HI-FOOTSTEPS] Id Griselda, "this isn't the way we came." "Isn't it?"
Date: Fri, 19 Mar 2010 13:51:32 -0300

one little hand tossed over his head, the other tight clasping a little basket which
he had insisted on taking to bed with him, meaning as soon as he was dressed the next morning to run out and fill it with flowers for the little girl he had made friends with. Griselda stepped up to the side of the bed on tiptoe. The cuckoo had disappeared, but Griselda heard his voice. It seemed
to come from a little way up the chimney. "Don't
wake him," said

the cuckoo, "but whisper what

you want to say

into his ear,
as soon as I have called him. He'll understand; he's accustomed to my ways." Then came the old note, soft and musical as ever-- "Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo. Listen, Phil," said the cuckoo,
and without opening his eyes a change passed over the little
boy's face. Griselda could see that he was listening to hear her message. "He thinks he's dreaming, I suppose," she said to herself with a smile. Then she whispered softly--

"Phil, dear, don't
come to play with me to-morrow, for I can't come. But come the day after. I'll be at the wood-path then." "Welly well," murmured Phil. Then he put out his two arms towards Griselda, all without opening his eyes, and she, bending down, kissed him softly. "Phil's so sleepy," he whispered, like a baby almost. Then

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• [HI-FOOTSTEPS] Id Griselda, "this isn't the way we came." "Isn't it?" by Lingbeek <>