Why won't you come out, cuckoo ?" "Tick-tick" said the clock, but there was no other reply.
Griselda felt ready to cry.
"Cuckoo," she said reproachfully, "I didn't think you were so hard-hearted.

I have been _so_ unhappy about you, and I was so pleased to hear your voice again, for I thought I had killed you, or hurt you very badly; and I didn't _mean_ to hurt you, cuckoo.

I was sorry the moment I had done it, _dreadfully_ sorry.

Dear cuckoo, won't you forgive me ?" There was a little sound at last--a faint _coming_ sound, and by the moonlight Griselda saw the doors open, and out flew the cuckoo.

He stood still for a moment, looked round him as it were, then gently flapped his wings, and uttered his usual note--"Cuckoo." Griselda stood in breathless expectation, but in her delight she could not help very softly clapping her hands.
The cuckoo cleared his throat.