"It leads," replied the cuckoo, "it leads to the country of the Nodding Mandarins."
"What fun!" exclaimed Griselda, clapping her hands. "Cuckoo, do let us go there. How can we get down? You can fly, but must I slide down the chain again?"
"Oh dear, no," said the cuckoo, "by no means. You have only to stretch out your feather mantle, flap it as if it was wings—so"—he flapped his own wings encouragingly—"wish, and there you'll be."
"Where?" said Griselda bewilderedly.
"Wherever you wish to be, of course," said the cuckoo. "Are you ready? Here goes."
"Wait—wait a moment," cried Griselda. "Where am I to wish to be?"
"Bless the child!" exclaimed the cuckoo. "Where do you wish to be? You said you wanted to visit the country of the Nodding Mandarins."
"Yes; but am I to wish first to be in the palace in the great saloon?"
