Chapter IV: The Rabbit Sends In a Little Bill

"It was much pleasanter at home," thought poor Alice, "when one wasn't always
growing larger and smaller, and being ordered about by mice and rabbits. I almost
wish I hadn't gone down that rabbit-hole - and yet - it's rather curious, you know,
this sort of life! I do wonder what can have happened to me! When I used to read
fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the
middle of one!

Russian immigrant, Anzia Yezierska, poured out her heart to her diary:

Again the shadow fell over me. In America were rooms without sunlight; rooms to
sleep in, to eat in, to cook in, but without sunshine. .Could I be satisfied with just
a place to sleep in and eat in, and a door to shut people out, to take the place of
sunlight? Or would I always need the sunlight to be happy? And where was there a
place in America for me to play? I looked out into the alley below and saw pale-
faced children scrambling in the gutter. Where is America? cried my heart.

A young Sicilian immigrant had vivid recollections of long days and evenings

Wed work until midnight but never after one. At least I wouldnt, for I had to go
to school in the morning. Yet sometimes I would hear my mother get up because
she could not sleep. And then my father would holler at her, Bimbabita, you will kill
yourself. and my mother would answer Sh-hhh, the children are sleeping.

In many countries, oppressive governments had eliminated freedom of speech,
freedom of religion, and other time-honored legal rights. Many of these
governments had begun to carry out massacres called pogroms, designed to
eliminate minority groups, particularly Jews.

We had taken shelter in the attic of a house because a pogrom was raging in our
town, and we were hiding, young Sophie Trupin later wrote. My father at that
time was in the cheese business and he had a long cheese knife. He decided that
before he and his family were killed he would kill as many of the attackers as he
possibly could. It was up in the attic, surrounded by his terrified family, that my
father vowed that he would leave this accursed Russia and make a new life for
himself and his family in America.

In other European countries, years of drought led to similar conditions.

We lived through a famine [so] we came to America, explained one young boy.
My mother said she wanted to see a loaf of bread on the table and then she was
ready to die.

The vast majority of immigrantswere far too poor to afford first- or
second-class tickets. They were herded together in the dim, damp section
called steerage that was far below the decks. The accommodations there were
horrendous.

The unattended vomit of the seasick, the odors of not-too-clean bodies, the reek
of food, and the awful stench of the nearby toilet rooms make the atmosphere in
steerage such that it is a marvel that human flesh can endure it, exclaimed one
government report. Most immigrants lie in their berths for most of the voyage, in
a stupor caused by the foul air. The food often repels them.It is almost
impossible to keep personally clean. All of these conditions are naturally aggravated
by the crowding.

Louis Sage recalls his feelings after leaving the inspection hall on Ellis Island:

I wish I had the words to describe exactly how I felt when I went through those
doors and was at last out of that inspection hall. I recall going down a set of stairs
to the floor below, and all the time I was remembering that other set of stairs I
climbed when we first got to this building and how frightened I was. I had my
landing card in my pocket with my hand clutched around it. I never took my hand
out of that pocket until the ferry that took us off the island landed in New York. I
still didnt know what was ahead for me. But one thing was for sure. I had made it
through Ellis Island.

Chapter VI: Pig and Pepper
"Cheshire Puss," she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it
would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. "Come, it's pleased so
far," thought Alice, and she went on. "Would you tell me, please, which way I ought
to go from here?" "That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said
the Cat. "I don't much care where - " said Alice. "Then it doesn't matter which
way you go," said the Cat. " - so long as I get somewhere," Alice added as an
explanation. "Oh, you're sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long
enough." Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another question.
"What sort of people live about here?" "In that direction," the Cat said, waving its
right paw round, "lives a Hatter: and in that direction," waving the other paw, "lives
a March Hare. Visit either you like: the're both mad." "But I don't want to go
among mad people," Alice remarked. "Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're
all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad." "How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.
"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."