Shut them, and I will brush them with a little daisy dew, to strengthen them." Griselda did as she was told.

She felt the tip of the cuckoo's softest feather pass gently two or three times over her eyelids, and a delicious scent seemed immediately to float before her.
"I didn't know _daisies_ had any scent," she remarked.
"Perhaps you didn't.

You forget, Griselda, that you have a great----" "Oh, please don't, cuckoo.

Please, please don't, _dear_ cuckoo," she exclaimed, dancing about with her hands clasped in entreaty, but her eyes still firmly closed.

"Don't say that, and I'll promise to believe whatever you tell me.