"Cuckoo," she said gently, "is that you?"
A moment's pause, then came the answer—the pretty greeting she expected.
"Cuckoo, cuckoo," soft and musical. Then the cuckoo spoke.
"Well, Griselda," he said, "and how are you? It's a good while since we have had any fun together."
"That's not my fault," said Griselda sharply. She was not yet feeling quite as amiable as might have been desired, you see. "That's certainly not my fault," she repeated.
"I never said it was," replied the cuckoo. "Why will you jump at conclusions so? It's a very bad habit, for very often you jump over them, you see, and go too far. One should always walk up to conclusions, very slowly and evenly, right foot first, then left, one with another—that's the way to get where you want to go, and feel sure of your ground. Do you see?"
