"Up the chimney first," said the cuckoo.
"But there'll never be room," said Griselda. "I might perhaps crawl up like a sweep, hands and knees, you know, like going up a ladder. But stretched out like this—it's just as if I were lying on a sofa—I couldn't go up the chimney."
"Couldn't you?" said the cuckoo. "We'll see. I intend to go, any way, and to take you with me. Shut your eyes—one, two, three—here goes—we'll be up the chimney before you know."
It was quite true. Griselda shut her eyes tight. She felt nothing but a pleasant sort of rush. Then she heard the cuckoo's voice, saying—
"Well, wasn't that well done? Open your eyes and look about you."
Griselda did so. Where were they?
They were floating about above the top of the house, which Griselda saw down below them, looking dark and vast. She felt confused and bewildered.
