"You have the mantle on--you're not cold ?" "No," said Griselda, "I'm not cold; but somehow, cuckoo, I feel a little frightened.

The sea is so strange, and so dreadfully big; and the light is so queer, too.

What is the light, cuckoo?
It isn't moonlight, is it ?" "Not exactly," said the cuckoo.

"You can't both have your cake and eat it, Griselda.

Look up at the sky.