Charles Edward Carryl

“ The rain had stopped, and the moon was shining through the breaking clouds, and as Dorothy looked up at the little stone house she saw that it had an archway through it with “ferry” in large letters on the wall above it. Of course she had no idea of going by herself over a strange ferry ”

“ It seemed like listening to an enormous cuckoo-clock “I don’t think I know exactly what it was for,” she said, rather confusedly.
“Well, it’s got to be for something, you know, or it won’t be fair,” said the Stork. “I suppose you don’t want to go over the ferry?” he added, cocking his head on one side, and looking down at her, inquiringly.
“Oh, no indeed!” said Dorothy, very earnestly.
“That’s lucky,” said the Stork. “It doesn’t go anywhere that it ever gets to. Perhaps you’d like to hear about it. It’s in poetry, you know.”
“Thank you,” said Dorothy politely. “I’d like it very much.” ”

“ There was a corner cupboard full of crockery, and two spinning-wheels, and a spindle-legged table set out with a blue-and-white tea-set and some cups and saucers, and finally a carved sideboard which made two or three clumsy attempts to get through the doorway broadside on, and then took a fresh start, and came through endwise with a great flourish. ”