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HDR LINESINBOOK = 003660Alice                         000024                                        --------------------------------------------------------------------------                          books\carrol\alice\*                                                                                --------------------                                                                                Alice's Adventures In Wonderland                                                                    By                                                                                                  Lewis Carroll                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND                                                                                                                                                                                  Lewis Carroll                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             CHAPTER I                                                                                                                                                                                         Down the Rabbit-Hole                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister                                    on the bank, and of having nothing to do:  once or twice she had                                    peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no                                          pictures or conversations in it, `and what is the use of a book,'                                   thought Alice `without pictures or conversation?'                                                                                                                                                         So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could,                                     for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether                                      the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble                                     of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White                                        Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.                                                                                                                                                                   There was nothing so VERY remarkable in that; nor did Alice                                       think it so VERY much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to                                      itself, `Oh dear!  Oh dear!  I shall be late!'  (when she thought                                   it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have                                       wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural);                                     but when the Rabbit actually TOOK A WATCH OUT OF ITS WAISTCOAT-                                     POCKET, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to                                     her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never                                         before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to                                  take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the                                      field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop                                      down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.                                                                                                                                                                 In another moment down went Alice after it, never once                                            considering how in the world she was to get out again.                                                                                                                                                    The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way,                                      and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a                                     moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself                                     falling down a very deep well.                                                                                                                                                                            Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she                                   had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to                                        wonder what was going to happen next.  First, she tried to look                                     down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to                                    see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and                                         noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves;                                      here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs.  She                                       took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was                                       labelled `ORANGE MARMALADE', but to her great disappointment it                                     was empty:  she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing                                    somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she                                     fell past it.                                                                                                                                                                                             `Well!' thought Alice to herself, `after such a fall as this, I                                   shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs!  How brave they'll                                     all think me at home!  Why, I wouldn't say anything about it,                                       even if I fell off the top of the house!' (Which was very likely                                    true.)                                                                                                                                                                                                    Down, down, down.  Would the fall NEVER come to an end!  `I                                       wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud.                                    `I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth.  Let                                     me see:  that would be four thousand miles down, I think--' (for,                                   you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her                                        lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a VERY good                                      opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to                                   listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) `--yes,                                   that's about the right distance--but then I wonder what Latitude                                    or Longitude I've got to?'  (Alice had no idea what Latitude was,                                   or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to                                      say.)                                                                                                                                                                                                     Presently she began again.  `I wonder if I shall fall right                                       THROUGH the earth!  How funny it'll seem to come out among the                                      people that walk with their heads downward!  The Antipathies, I                                     think--' (she was rather glad there WAS no one listening, this                                      time, as it didn't sound at all the right word) `--but I shall                                      have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know.                                         Please, Ma'am, is this New Zealand or Australia?' (and she tried                                    to curtsey as she spoke--fancy CURTSEYING as you're falling                                         through the air!  Do you think you could manage it?)  `And what                                     an ignorant little girl she'll think me for asking!  No, it'll                                      never do to ask:  perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.'                                                                                                                                           Down, down, down.  There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon                                    began talking again.  `Dinah'll miss me very much to-night, I                                       should think!'  (Dinah was the cat.)  `I hope they'll remember                                      her saucer of milk at tea-time.  Dinah my dear!  I wish you were                                    down here with me!  There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but                                   you might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, you know.                                      But do cats eat bats, I wonder?'  And here Alice began to get                                       rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of                                   way, `Do cats eat bats?  Do cats eat bats?' and sometimes, `Do                                      bats eat cats?' for, you see, as she couldn't answer either                                         question, it didn't much matter which way she put it.  She felt                                     that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she                                       was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very                                         earnestly, `Now, Dinah, tell me the truth:  did you ever eat a                                      bat?' when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of                                     sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.                                                                                                                                                             Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a                                   moment:  she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her                                    was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in                                         sight, hurrying down it.  There was not a moment to be lost:                                        away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it                                      say, as it turned a corner, `Oh my ears and whiskers, how late                                      it's getting!'  She was close behind it when she turned the                                         corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen:  she found                                         herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps                                     hanging from the roof.                                                                                                                                                                                    There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked;                                    and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the                                        other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle,                                         wondering how she was ever to get out again.                                                                                                                                                              Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of                                   solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key,                                      and Alice's first thought was that it might belong to one of the                                    doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or                                   the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of                                     them.  However, on the second time round, she came upon a low                                       curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little                                      door about fifteen inches high:  she tried the little golden key                                    in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!                                                                                                                                                          Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small                                          passage, not much larger than a rat-hole:  she knelt down and                                       looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw.                                    How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about                                       among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but                                    she could not even get her head though the doorway; `and even if                                    my head would go through,' thought poor Alice, `it would be of                                      very little use without my shoulders.  Oh, how I wish                                               I could shut up like a telescope!  I think I could, if I only                                       know how to begin.'  For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things                                    had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few                                    things indeed were really impossible.                                                                                                                                                                     There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she                                   went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on                                   it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like                                      telescopes:  this time she found a little bottle on it, (`which                                     certainly was not here before,' said Alice,) and round the neck                                     of the bottle was a paper label, with the words `DRINK ME'                                          beautifully printed on it in large letters.                                                                                                                                                               It was all very well to say `Drink me,' but the wise little                                       Alice was not going to do THAT in a hurry.  `No, I'll look                                          first,' she said, `and see whether it's marked "poison" or not';                                    for she had read several nice little histories about children who                                   had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant                                     things, all because they WOULD not remember the simple rules                                        their friends had taught them:  such as, that a red-hot poker                                       will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your                                     finger VERY deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had                                     never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked                                        `poison,' it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or                                      later.                                                                                                                                                                                                    However, this bottle was NOT marked `poison,' so Alice ventured                                   to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort                                     of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast                                         turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished                                     it off.                                                                                                                                                                                                      *       *       *       *       *       *       *                                                                                                                                                           *       *       *       *       *       *                                                                                                                                                           *       *       *       *       *       *       *                                                                                                                                                    `What a curious feeling!' said Alice; `I must be shutting up                                      like a telescope.'                                                                                                                                                                                        And so it was indeed:  she was now only ten inches high, and                                      her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right                                    size for going though the little door into that lovely garden.                                      First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was                                      going to shrink any further:  she felt a little nervous about                                       this; `for it might end, you know,' said Alice to herself, `in my                                   going out altogether, like a candle.  I wonder what I should be                                     like then?'  And she tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is                                   like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember                                      ever having seen such a thing.                                                                                                                                                                            After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided                                    on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when                                    she got to the door, she found he had forgotten the little golden                                   key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she                                      could not possibly reach it:  she could see it quite plainly                                        through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the                                    legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had                                        tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and                                   cried.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `Come, there's no use in crying like that!' said Alice to                                         herself, rather sharply; `I advise you to leave off this minute!'                                   She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very                                       seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so                                           severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered                                   trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game                                     of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious                                        child was very fond of pretending to be two people.  `But it's no                                   use now,' thought poor Alice, `to pretend to be two people!  Why,                                   there's hardly enough of me left to make ONE respectable                                            person!'                                                                                                                                                                                                  Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under                                      the table:  she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on                                    which the words `EAT ME' were beautifully marked in currants.                                       `Well, I'll eat it,' said Alice, `and if it makes me grow larger,                                   I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep                                   under the door; so either way I'll get into the garden, and I                                       don't care which happens!'                                                                                                                                                                                She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, `Which                                       way?  Which way?', holding her hand on the top of her head to                                       feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to                                       find that she remained the same size:  to be sure, this generally                                   happens when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much into the                                      way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen,                                       that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the                                       common way.                                                                                                                                                                                               So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.                                                                                                                                                   *       *       *       *       *       *       *                                                                                                                                                           *       *       *       *       *       *                                                                                                                                                           *       *       *       *       *       *       *                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         CHAPTER II                                                                                                                                                                                           The Pool of Tears                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     `Curiouser and curiouser!' cried Alice (she was so much                                           surprised, that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good                                   English); `now I'm opening out like the largest telescope that                                      ever was!  Good-bye, feet!' (for when she looked down at her                                        feet, they seemed to be almost out of sight, they were getting so                                   far off).  `Oh, my poor little feet, I wonder who will put on                                       your shoes and stockings for you now, dears?  I'm sure _I_ shan't                                   be able!  I shall be a great deal too far off to trouble myself                                     about you:  you must manage the best way you can; --but I must be                                   kind to them,' thought Alice, `or perhaps they won't walk the                                       way I want to go!  Let me see:  I'll give them a new pair of                                        boots every Christmas.'                                                                                                                                                                                   And she went on planning to herself how she would manage it.                                      `They must go by the carrier,' she thought; `and how funny it'll                                    seem, sending presents to one's own feet!  And how odd the                                          directions will look!                                                                                                                                                                                               ALICE'S RIGHT FOOT, ESQ.                                                                                HEARTHRUG,                                                                                              NEAR THE FENDER,                                                                                        (WITH ALICE'S LOVE).                                                                                                                                                            Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking!'                                                                                                                                                                      Just then her head struck against the roof of the hall:  in                                       fact she was now more than nine feet high, and she at once took                                     up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door.                                                                                                                                              Poor Alice!  It was as much as she could do, lying down on one                                    side, to look through into the garden with one eye; but to get                                      through was more hopeless than ever:  she sat down and began to                                     cry again.                                                                                                                                                                                                `You ought to be ashamed of yourself,' said Alice, `a great                                       girl like you,' (she might well say this), `to go on crying in                                      this way!  Stop this moment, I tell you!'  But she went on all                                      the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool                                   all round her, about four inches deep and reaching half down the                                    hall.                                                                                                                                                                                                     After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the                                          distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming.                                    It was the White Rabbit returning, splendidly dressed, with a                                       pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the                                         other:  he came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to                                       himself as he came, `Oh! the Duchess, the Duchess! Oh! won't she                                    be savage if I've kept her waiting!'  Alice felt so desperate                                       that she was ready to ask help of any one; so, when the Rabbit                                      came near her, she began, in a low, timid voice, `If you please,                                    sir--'  The Rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid                                         gloves and the fan, and skurried away into the darkness as hard                                     as he could go.                                                                                                                                                                                           Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was very                                       hot, she kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking:                                     `Dear, dear!  How queer everything is to-day!  And yesterday                                        things went on just as usual.  I wonder if I've been changed in                                     the night?  Let me think:  was I the same when I got up this                                        morning?  I almost think I can remember feeling a little                                            different.  But if I'm not the same, the next question is, Who in                                   the world am I?  Ah, THAT'S the great puzzle!'  And she began                                       thinking over all the children she knew that were of the same age                                   as herself, to see if she could have been changed for any of                                        them.                                                                                                                                                                                                     `I'm sure I'm not Ada,' she said, `for her hair goes in such                                      long ringlets, and mine doesn't go in ringlets at all; and I'm                                      sure I can't be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things, and she,                                     oh! she knows such a very little!  Besides, SHE'S she, and I'm I,                                   and--oh dear, how puzzling it all is!  I'll try if I know all the                                   things I used to know.  Let me see:  four times five is twelve,                                     and four times six is thirteen, and four times seven is--oh dear!                                   I shall never get to twenty at that rate!  However, the                                             Multiplication Table doesn't signify:  let's try Geography.                                         London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital of Rome,                                   and Rome--no, THAT'S all wrong, I'm certain!  I must have been                                      changed for Mabel!  I'll try and say "How doth the little--"'                                       and she crossed her hands on her lap as if she were saying lessons,                                 and began to repeat it, but her voice sounded hoarse and                                            strange, and the words did not come the same as they used to do:--                                                                                                                                                  `How doth the little crocodile                                                                        Improve his shining tail,                                                                         And pour the waters of the Nile                                                                       On every golden scale!                                                                                                                                                                                `How cheerfully he seems to grin,                                                                     How neatly spread his claws,                                                                      And welcome little fishes in                                                                          With gently smiling jaws!'                                                                                                                                                                  `I'm sure those are not the right words,' said poor Alice, and                                    her eyes filled with tears again as she went on, `I must be Mabel                                   after all, and I shall have to go and live in that poky little                                      house, and have next to no toys to play with, and oh! ever so                                       many lessons to learn!  No, I've made up my mind about it; if I'm                                   Mabel, I'll stay down here!  It'll be no use their putting their                                    heads down and saying "Come up again, dear!"  I shall only look                                     up and say "Who am I then?  Tell me that first, and then, if I                                      like being that person, I'll come up:  if not, I'll stay down                                       here till I'm somebody else"--but, oh dear!' cried Alice, with a                                    sudden burst of tears, `I do wish they WOULD put their heads                                        down!  I am so VERY tired of being all alone here!'                                                                                                                                                       As she said this she looked down at her hands, and was                                            surprised to see that she had put on one of the Rabbit's little                                     white kid gloves while she was talking.  `How CAN I have done                                       that?' she thought.  `I must be growing small again.'  She got up                                   and went to the table to measure herself by it, and found that,                                     as nearly as she could guess, she was now about two feet high,                                      and was going on shrinking rapidly:  she soon found out that the                                    cause of this was the fan she was holding, and she dropped it                                       hastily, just in time to avoid shrinking away altogether.                                                                                                                                               `That WAS a narrow escape!' said Alice, a good deal frightened at                                   the sudden change, but very glad to find herself still in                                           existence; `and now for the garden!' and she ran with all speed                                     back to the little door:  but, alas! the little door was shut                                       again, and the little golden key was lying on the glass table as                                    before, `and things are worse than ever,' thought the poor child,                                   `for I never was so small as this before, never!  And I declare                                     it's too bad, that it is!'                                                                                                                                                                                As she said these words her foot slipped, and in another                                          moment, splash! she was up to her chin in salt water.  He first                                     idea was that she had somehow fallen into the sea, `and in that                                     case I can go back by railway,' she said to herself.  (Alice had                                    been to the seaside once in her life, and had come to the general                                   conclusion, that wherever you go to on the English coast you find                                   a number of bathing machines in the sea, some children digging in                                   the sand with wooden spades, then a row of lodging houses, and                                      behind them a railway station.)  However, she soon made out that                                    she was in the pool of tears which she had wept when she was nine                                   feet high.                                                                                                                                                                                                `I wish I hadn't cried so much!' said Alice, as she swam about,                                   trying to find her way out.  `I shall be punished for it now, I                                     suppose, by being drowned in my own tears!  That WILL be a queer                                    thing, to be sure!  However, everything is queer to-day.'                                                                                                                                                 Just then she heard something splashing about in the pool a                                       little way off, and she swam nearer to make out what it was:  at                                    first she thought it must be a walrus or hippopotamus, but then                                     she remembered how small she was now, and she soon made out that                                    it was only a mouse that had slipped in like herself.                                                                                                                                                     `Would it be of any use, now,' thought Alice, `to speak to this                                   mouse?  Everything is so out-of-the-way down here, that I should                                    think very likely it can talk:  at any rate, there's no harm in                                     trying.'  So she began:  `O Mouse, do you know the way out of                                       this pool?  I am very tired of swimming about here, O Mouse!'                                       (Alice thought this must be the right way of speaking to a mouse:                                   she had never done such a thing before, but she remembered having                                   seen in her brother's Latin Grammar, `A mouse--of a mouse--to a                                     mouse--a mouse--O mouse!'  The Mouse looked at her rather                                           inquisitively, and seemed to her to wink with one of its little                                     eyes, but it said nothing.                                                                                                                                                                                `Perhaps it doesn't understand English,' thought Alice; `I                                        daresay it's a French mouse, come over with William the                                             Conqueror.'  (For, with all her knowledge of history, Alice had                                     no very clear notion how long ago anything had happened.)  So she                                   began again:  `Ou est ma chatte?' which was the first sentence in                                   her French lesson-book.  The Mouse gave a sudden leap out of the                                    water, and seemed to quiver all over with fright.  `Oh, I beg                                       your pardon!' cried Alice hastily, afraid that she had hurt the                                     poor animal's feelings.  `I quite forgot you didn't like cats.'                                                                                                                                           `Not like cats!' cried the Mouse, in a shrill, passionate                                         voice.  `Would YOU like cats if you were me?'                                                                                                                                                             `Well, perhaps not,' said Alice in a soothing tone:  `don't be                                    angry about it.  And yet I wish I could show you our cat Dinah:                                     I think you'd take a fancy to cats if you could only see her.                                       She is such a dear quiet thing,' Alice went on, half to herself,                                    as she swam lazily about in the pool, `and she sits purring so                                      nicely by the fire, licking her paws and washing her face--and                                      she is such a nice soft thing to nurse--and she's such a capital                                    one for catching mice--oh, I beg your pardon!' cried Alice again,                                   for this time the Mouse was bristling all over, and she felt                                        certain it must be really offended.  `We won't talk about her any                                   more if you'd rather not.'                                                                                                                                                                                `We indeed!' cried the Mouse, who was trembling down to the end                                   of his tail.  `As if I would talk on such a subject!  Our family                                    always HATED cats:  nasty, low, vulgar things!  Don't let me hear                                   the name again!'                                                                                                                                                                                          `I won't indeed!' said Alice, in a great hurry to change the                                      subject of conversation.  `Are you--are you fond--of--of dogs?'                                     The Mouse did not answer, so Alice went on eagerly:  `There is                                      such a nice little dog near our house I should like to show you!                                    A little bright-eyed terrier, you know, with oh, such long curly                                    brown hair!  And it'll fetch things when you throw them, and                                        it'll sit up and beg for its dinner, and all sorts of things--I                                     can't remember half of them--and it belongs to a farmer, you                                        know, and he says it's so useful, it's worth a hundred pounds!                                      He says it kills all the rats and--oh dear!' cried Alice in a                                       sorrowful tone, `I'm afraid I've offended it again!'  For the                                       Mouse was swimming away from her as hard as it could go, and                                        making quite a commotion in the pool as it went.                                                                                                                                                          So she called softly after it, `Mouse dear!  Do come back                                         again, and we won't talk about cats or dogs either, if you don't                                    like them!'  When the Mouse heard this, it turned round and swam                                    slowly back to her:  its face was quite pale (with passion, Alice                                   thought), and it said in a low trembling voice, `Let us get to                                      the shore, and then I'll tell you my history, and you'll                                            understand why it is I hate cats and dogs.'                                                                                                                                                               It was high time to go, for the pool was getting quite crowded                                    with the birds and animals that had fallen into it:  there were a                                   Duck and a Dodo, a Lory and an Eaglet, and several other curious                                    creatures.  Alice led the way, and the whole party swam to the                                      shore.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     CHAPTER III                                                                                                                                                                                    A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               They were indeed a queer-looking party that assembled on the                                      bank--the birds with draggled feathers, the animals with their                                      fur clinging close to them, and all dripping wet, cross, and                                        uncomfortable.                                                                                                                                                                                            The first question of course was, how to get dry again:  they                                     had a consultation about this, and after a few minutes it seemed                                    quite natural to Alice to find herself talking familiarly with                                      them, as if she had known them all her life.  Indeed, she had                                       quite a long argument with the Lory, who at last turned sulky,                                      and would only say, `I am older than you, and must know better';                                    and this Alice would not allow without knowing how old it was,                                      and, as the Lory positively refused to tell its age, there was no                                   more to be said.                                                                                                                                                                                          At last the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of authority among                                   them, called out, `Sit down, all of you, and listen to me!  I'LL                                    soon make you dry enough!'  They all sat down at once, in a large                                   ring, with the Mouse in the middle.  Alice kept her eyes                                            anxiously fixed on it, for she felt sure she would catch a bad                                      cold if she did not get dry very soon.                                                                                                                                                                    `Ahem!' said the Mouse with an important air, `are you all ready?                                 This is the driest thing I know.  Silence all round, if you please!                                 "William the Conqueror, whose cause was favoured by the pope, was                                   soon submitted to by the English, who wanted leaders, and had been                                  of late much accustomed to usurpation and conquest.  Edwin and                                      Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria--"'                                                                                                                                                           `Ugh!' said the Lory, with a shiver.                                                                                                                                                                    `I beg your pardon!' said the Mouse, frowning, but very                                           politely:  `Did you speak?'                                                                                                                                                                               `Not I!' said the Lory hastily.                                                                                                                                                                         `I thought you did,' said the Mouse.  `--I proceed.  "Edwin and                                   Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria, declared for him:                                      and even Stigand, the patriotic archbishop of Canterbury, found                                     it advisable--"'                                                                                                                                                                                          `Found WHAT?' said the Duck.                                                                                                                                                                            `Found IT,' the Mouse replied rather crossly:  `of course you                                     know what "it" means.'                                                                                                                                                                                    `I know what "it" means well enough, when I find a thing,' said                                   the Duck:  `it's generally a frog or a worm.  The question is,                                      what did the archbishop find?'                                                                                                                                                                            The Mouse did not notice this question, but hurriedly went on,                                    `"--found it advisable to go with Edgar Atheling to meet William                                    and offer him the crown.  William's conduct at first was                                            moderate.  But the insolence of his Normans--"  How are you                                         getting on now, my dear?' it continued, turning to Alice as it                                      spoke.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `As wet as ever,' said Alice in a melancholy tone:  `it doesn't                                   seem to dry me at all.'                                                                                                                                                                                   `In that case,' said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its feet, `I                                    move that the meeting adjourn, for the immediate adoption of more                                   energetic remedies--'                                                                                                                                                                                     `Speak English!' said the Eaglet.  `I don't know the meaning of                                   half those long words, and, what's more, I don't believe you do                                     either!'  And the Eaglet bent down its head to hide a smile:                                        some of the other birds tittered audibly.                                                                                                                                                                 `What I was going to say,' said the Dodo in an offended tone,                                     `was, that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race.'                                                                                                                                          `What IS a Caucus-race?' said Alice; not that she wanted much                                     to know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that SOMEBODY                                     ought to speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything.                                                                                                                                          `Why,' said the Dodo, `the best way to explain it is to do it.'                                   (And, as you might like to try the thing yourself, some winter                                      day, I will tell you how the Dodo managed it.)                                                                                                                                                            First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle, (`the                                     exact shape doesn't matter,' it said,) and then all the party                                       were placed along the course, here and there.  There was no `One,                                   two, three, and away,' but they began running when they liked,                                      and left off when they liked, so that it was not easy to know                                       when the race was over.  However, when they had been running half                                   an hour or so, and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly called                                   out `The race is over!' and they all crowded round it, panting,                                     and asking, `But who has won?'                                                                                                                                                                            This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of                                   thought, and it sat for a long time with one finger pressed upon                                    its forehead (the position in which you usually see Shakespeare,                                    in the pictures of him), while the rest waited in silence.  At                                      last the Dodo said, `EVERYBODY has won, and all must have                                           prizes.'                                                                                                                                                                                                  `But who is to give the prizes?' quite a chorus of voices                                         asked.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `Why, SHE, of course,' said the Dodo, pointing to Alice with                                      one finger; and the whole party at once crowded round her,                                          calling out in a confused way, `Prizes! Prizes!'                                                                                                                                                          Alice had no idea what to do, and in despair she put her hand                                     in her pocket, and pulled out a box of comfits, (luckily the salt                                   water had not got into it), and handed them round as prizes.                                        There was exactly one a-piece all round.                                                                                                                                                                  `But she must have a prize herself, you know,' said the Mouse.                                                                                                                                          `Of course,' the Dodo replied very gravely.  `What else have                                      you got in your pocket?' he went on, turning to Alice.                                                                                                                                                    `Only a thimble,' said Alice sadly.                                                                                                                                                                     `Hand it over here,' said the Dodo.                                                                                                                                                                     Then they all crowded round her once more, while the Dodo                                         solemnly presented the thimble, saying `We beg your acceptance of                                   this elegant thimble'; and, when it had finished this short                                         speech, they all cheered.                                                                                                                                                                                 Alice thought the whole thing very absurd, but they all looked                                    so grave that she did not dare to laugh; and, as she could not                                      think of anything to say, she simply bowed, and took the thimble,                                   looking as solemn as she could.                                                                                                                                                                           The next thing was to eat the comfits:  this caused some noise                                    and confusion, as the large birds complained that they could not                                    taste theirs, and the small ones choked and had to be patted on                                     the back.  However, it was over at last, and they sat down again                                    in a ring, and begged the Mouse to tell them something more.                                                                                                                                              `You promised to tell me your history, you know,' said Alice,                                     `and why it is you hate--C and D,' she added in a whisper, half                                     afraid that it would be offended again.                                                                                                                                                                   `Mine is a long and a sad tale!' said the Mouse, turning to                                       Alice, and sighing.                                                                                                                                                                                       `It IS a long tail, certainly,' said Alice, looking down with                                     wonder at the Mouse's tail; `but why do you call it sad?'  And                                      she kept on puzzling about it while the Mouse was speaking, so                                      that her idea of the tale was something like this:--                                                                                                                                                                        `Fury said to a                                                                                    mouse, That he                                                                                    met in the                                                                                        house,                                                                                           "Let us                                                                                               both go to                                                                                            law:  I will                                                                                          prosecute                                                                                             YOU.  --Come,                                                                                          I'll take no                                                                                         denial; We                                                                                       must have a                                                                                     trial:  For                                                                                      really this                                                                                      morning I've                                                                                       nothing                                                                                            to do."                                                                                               Said the                                                                                              mouse to the                                                                                          cur, "Such                                                                                            a trial,                                                                                              dear Sir,                                                                                                 With                                                                                            no jury                                                                                          or judge,                                                                                         would be                                                                                          wasting                                                                                            our                                                                                                  breath."                                                                                             "I'll be                                                                                              judge, I'll                                                                                           be jury,"                                                                                                 Said                                                                                           cunning                                                                                               old Fury:                                                                                          "I'll                                                                                                try the                                                                                                whole                                                                                                cause,                                                                                                 and                                                                                            condemn                                                                                            you                                                                                                to                                                                                                   death."'                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               `You are not attending!' said the Mouse to Alice severely.                                        `What are you thinking of?'                                                                                                                                                                               `I beg your pardon,' said Alice very humbly:  `you had got to                                     the fifth bend, I think?'                                                                                                                                                                                 `I had NOT!' cried the Mouse, sharply and very angrily.                                                                                                                                                 `A knot!' said Alice, always ready to make herself useful, and                                    looking anxiously about her.  `Oh, do let me help to undo it!'                                                                                                                                            `I shall do nothing of the sort,' said the Mouse, getting up                                      and walking away.  `You insult me by talking such nonsense!'                                                                                                                                              `I didn't mean it!' pleaded poor Alice.  `But you're so easily                                    offended, you know!'                                                                                                                                                                                      The Mouse only growled in reply.                                                                                                                                                                        `Please come back and finish your story!' Alice called after                                      it; and the others all joined in chorus, `Yes, please do!' but                                      the Mouse only shook its head impatiently, and walked a little                                      quicker.                                                                                                                                                                                                  `What a pity it wouldn't stay!' sighed the Lory, as soon as it                                    was quite out of sight; and an old Crab took the opportunity of                                     saying to her daughter `Ah, my dear!  Let this be a lesson to you                                   never to lose YOUR temper!'  `Hold your tongue, Ma!' said the                                       young Crab, a little snappishly.  `You're enough to try the                                         patience of an oyster!'                                                                                                                                                                                   `I wish I had our Dinah here, I know I do!' said Alice aloud,                                     addressing nobody in particular.  `She'd soon fetch it back!'                                                                                                                                             `And who is Dinah, if I might venture to ask the question?'                                       said the Lory.                                                                                                                                                                                            Alice replied eagerly, for she was always ready to talk about                                     her pet:  `Dinah's our cat.  And she's such a capital one for                                       catching mice you can't think!  And oh, I wish you could see her                                    after the birds!  Why, she'll eat a little bird as soon as look                                     at it!'                                                                                                                                                                                                   This speech caused a remarkable sensation among the party.                                        Some of the birds hurried off at once:  one the old Magpie began                                    wrapping itself up very carefully, remarking, `I really must be                                     getting home; the night-air doesn't suit my throat!' and a Canary                                   called out in a trembling voice to its children, `Come away, my                                     dears!  It's high time you were all in bed!'  On various pretexts                                   they all moved off, and Alice was soon left alone.                                                                                                                                                        `I wish I hadn't mentioned Dinah!' she said to herself in a                                       melancholy tone.  `Nobody seems to like her, down here, and I'm                                     sure she's the best cat in the world!  Oh, my dear Dinah!  I                                        wonder if I shall ever see you any more!'  And here poor Alice                                      began to cry again, for she felt very lonely and low-spirited.                                      In a little while, however, she again heard a little pattering of                                   footsteps in the distance, and she looked up eagerly, half hoping                                   that the Mouse had changed his mind, and was coming back to                                         finish his story.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          CHAPTER IV                                                                                                                                                                                   The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             It was the White Rabbit, trotting slowly back again, and                                          looking anxiously about as it went, as if it had lost something;                                    and she heard it muttering to itself `The Duchess!  The Duchess!                                    Oh my dear paws!  Oh my fur and whiskers!  She'll get me                                            executed, as sure as ferrets are ferrets!  Where CAN I have                                         dropped them, I wonder?'  Alice guessed in a moment that it was                                     looking for the fan and the pair of white kid gloves, and she                                       very good-naturedly began hunting about for them, but they were                                     nowhere to be seen--everything seemed to have changed since her                                     swim in the pool, and the great hall, with the glass table and                                      the little door, had vanished completely.                                                                                                                                                                 Very soon the Rabbit noticed Alice, as she went hunting about,                                    and called out to her in an angry tone, `Why, Mary Ann, what ARE                                    you doing out here?  Run home this moment, and fetch me a pair of                                   gloves and a fan!  Quick, now!'  And Alice was so much frightened                                   that she ran off at once in the direction it pointed to, without                                    trying to explain the mistake it had made.                                                                                                                                                                `He took me for his housemaid,' she said to herself as she ran.                                   `How surprised he'll be when he finds out who I am!  But I'd                                        better take him his fan and gloves--that is, if I can find them.'                                   As she said this, she came upon a neat little house, on the door                                    of which was a bright brass plate with the name `W. RABBIT'                                         engraved upon it.  She went in without knocking, and hurried                                        upstairs, in great fear lest she should meet the real Mary Ann,                                     and be turned out of the house before she had found the fan and                                     gloves.                                                                                                                                                                                                   `How queer it seems,' Alice said to herself, `to be going                                         messages for a rabbit!  I suppose Dinah'll be sending me on                                         messages next!'  And she began fancying the sort of thing that                                      would happen:  `"Miss Alice!  Come here directly, and get ready                                     for your walk!" "Coming in a minute, nurse!  But I've got to see                                    that the mouse doesn't get out."  Only I don't think,' Alice went                                   on, `that they'd let Dinah stop in the house if it began ordering                                   people about like that!'                                                                                                                                                                                  By this time she had found her way into a tidy little room with                                   a table in the window, and on it (as she had hoped) a fan and two                                   or three pairs of tiny white kid gloves:  she took up the fan and                                   a pair of the gloves, and was just going to leave the room, when                                    her eye fell upon a little bottle that stood near the looking-                                      glass.  There was no label this time with the words `DRINK ME,'                                     but nevertheless she uncorked it and put it to her lips.  `I know                                   SOMETHING interesting is sure to happen,' she said to herself,                                      `whenever I eat or drink anything; so I'll just see what this                                       bottle does.  I do hope it'll make me grow large again, for                                         really I'm quite tired of being such a tiny little thing!'                                                                                                                                                It did so indeed, and much sooner than she had expected:                                          before she had drunk half the bottle, she found her head pressing                                   against the ceiling, and had to stoop to save her neck from being                                   broken.  She hastily put down the bottle, saying to herself                                         `That's quite enough--I hope I shan't grow any more--As it is, I                                    can't get out at the door--I do wish I hadn't drunk quite so                                        much!'                                                                                                                                                                                                    Alas! it was too late to wish that!  She went on growing, and                                     growing, and very soon had to kneel down on the floor:  in                                          another minute there was not even room for this, and she tried                                      the effect of lying down with one elbow against the door, and the                                   other arm curled round her head.  Still she went on growing, and,                                   as a last resource, she put one arm out of the window, and one                                      foot up the chimney, and said to herself `Now I can do no more,                                     whatever happens.  What WILL become of me?'                                                                                                                                                               Luckily for Alice, the little magic bottle had now had its full                                   effect, and she grew no larger:  still it was very uncomfortable,                                   and, as there seemed to be no sort of chance of her ever getting                                    out of the room again, no wonder she felt unhappy.                                                                                                                                                        `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--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!  There                                      ought to be a book written about me, that there ought!  And when                                    I grow up, I'll write one--but I'm grown up now,' she added in a                                    sorrowful tone; `at least there's no room to grow up any more                                       HERE.'                                                                                                                                                                                                    `But then,' thought Alice, `shall I NEVER get any older than I                                    am now?  That'll be a comfort, one way--never to be an old woman-                                   -but then--always to have lessons to learn!  Oh, I shouldn't like                                   THAT!'                                                                                                                                                                                                    `Oh, you foolish Alice!' she answered herself.  `How can you                                      learn lessons in here?  Why, there's hardly room for YOU, and no                                    room at all for any lesson-books!'                                                                                                                                                                        And so she went on, taking first one side and then the other,                                     and making quite a conversation of it altogether; but after a few                                   minutes she heard a voice outside, and stopped to listen.                                                                                                                                                 `Mary Ann!  Mary Ann!' said the voice.  `Fetch me my gloves                                       this moment!'  Then came a little pattering of feet on the                                          stairs.  Alice knew it was the Rabbit coming to look for her, and                                   she trembled till she shook the house, quite forgetting that she                                    was now about a thousand times as large as the Rabbit, and had no                                   reason to be afraid of it.                                                                                                                                                                                Presently the Rabbit came up to the door, and tried to open it;                                   but, as the door opened inwards, and Alice's elbow was pressed                                      hard against it, that attempt proved a failure.  Alice heard it                                     say to itself `Then I'll go round and get in at the window.'                                                                                                                                              `THAT you won't' thought Alice, and, after waiting till she                                       fancied she heard the Rabbit just under the window, she suddenly                                    spread out her hand, and made a snatch in the air.  She did not                                     get hold of anything, but she heard a little shriek and a fall,                                     and a crash of broken glass, from which she concluded that it was                                   just possible it had fallen into a cucumber-frame, or something                                     of the sort.                                                                                                                                                                                              Next came an angry voice--the Rabbit's--`Pat! Pat!  Where are                                     you?'  And then a voice she had never heard before, `Sure then                                      I'm here!  Digging for apples, yer honour!'                                                                                                                                                               `Digging for apples, indeed!' said the Rabbit angrily.  `Here!                                    Come and help me out of THIS!'  (Sounds of more broken glass.)                                                                                                                                            `Now tell me, Pat, what's that in the window?'                                                                                                                                                          `Sure, it's an arm, yer honour!'  (He pronounced it `arrum.')                                                                                                                                           `An arm, you goose!   Who ever saw one that size?  Why, it                                        fills the whole window!'                                                                                                                                                                                  `Sure, it does, yer honour:  but it's an arm for all that.'                                                                                                                                             `Well, it's got no business there, at any rate:  go and take it                                   away!'                                                                                                                                                                                                    There was a long silence after this, and Alice could only hear                                    whispers now and then; such as, `Sure, I don't like it, yer                                         honour, at all, at all!'  `Do as I tell you, you coward!' and at                                    last she spread out her hand again, and made another snatch in                                      the air.  This time there were TWO little shrieks, and more                                         sounds of broken glass.  `What a number of cucumber-frames there                                    must be!' thought Alice.  `I wonder what they'll do next!  As for                                   pulling me out of the window, I only wish they COULD!  I'm sure I                                   don't want to stay in here any longer!'                                                                                                                                                                   She waited for some time without hearing anything more:  at                                       last came a rumbling of little cartwheels, and the sound of a                                       good many voice all talking together:  she made out the words:                                      `Where's the other ladder?--Why, I hadn't to bring but one;                                         Bill's got the other--Bill! fetch it here, lad!--Here, put 'em up                                   at this corner--No, tie 'em together first--they don't reach half                                   high enough yet--Oh! they'll do well enough; don't be particular-                                   -Here, Bill! catch hold of this rope--Will the roof bear?--Mind                                     that loose slate--Oh, it's coming down!  Heads below!' (a loud                                      crash)--`Now, who did that?--It was Bill, I fancy--Who's to go                                      down the chimney?--Nay, I shan't! YOU do it!--That I won't,                                         then!--Bill's to go down--Here, Bill! the master says you're to                                     go down the chimney!'                                                                                                                                                                                     `Oh! So Bill's got to come down the chimney, has he?' said                                        Alice to herself.  `Shy, they seem to put everything upon Bill!                                     I wouldn't be in Bill's place for a good deal:  this fireplace is                                   narrow, to be sure; but I THINK I can kick a little!'                                                                                                                                                     She drew her foot as far down the chimney as she could, and                                       waited till she heard a little animal (she couldn't guess of what                                   sort it was) scratching and scrambling about in the chimney close                                   above her:  then, saying to herself `This is Bill,' she gave one                                    sharp kick, and waited to see what would happen next.                                                                                                                                                     The first thing she heard was a general chorus of `There goes                                     Bill!' then the Rabbit's voice along--`Catch him, you by the                                        hedge!' then silence, and then another confusion of voices--`Hold                                   up his head--Brandy now--Don't choke him--How was it, old fellow?                                   What happened to you?  Tell us all about it!'                                                                                                                                                             Last came a little feeble, squeaking voice, (`That's Bill,'                                       thought Alice,) `Well, I hardly know--No more, thank ye; I'm                                        better now--but I'm a deal too flustered to tell you--all I know                                    is, something comes at me like a Jack-in-the-box, and up I goes                                     like a sky-rocket!'                                                                                                                                                                                       `So you did, old fellow!' said the others.                                                                                                                                                              `We must burn the house down!' said the Rabbit's voice; and                                       Alice called out as loud as she could, `If you do.  I'll set                                        Dinah at you!'                                                                                                                                                                                            There was a dead silence instantly, and Alice thought to                                          herself, `I wonder what they WILL do next!  If they had any                                         sense, they'd take the roof off.'  After a minute or two, they                                      began moving about again, and Alice heard the Rabbit say, `A                                        barrowful will do, to begin with.'                                                                                                                                                                        `A barrowful of WHAT?' thought Alice; but she had not long to                                     doubt, for the next moment a shower of little pebbles came                                          rattling in at the window, and some of them hit her in the face.                                    `I'll put a stop to this,' she said to herself, and shouted out,                                    `You'd better not do that again!' which produced another dead                                       silence.                                                                                                                                                                                                  Alice noticed with some surprise that the pebbles were all                                        turning into little cakes as they lay on the floor, and a bright                                    idea came into her head.  `If I eat one of these cakes,' she                                        thought, `it's sure to make SOME change in my size; and as it                                       can't possibly make me larger, it must make me smaller, I                                           suppose.'                                                                                                                                                                                                 So she swallowed one of the cakes, and was delighted to find                                      that she began shrinking directly.  As soon as she was small                                        enough to get through the door, she ran out of the house, and                                       found quite a crowd of little animals and birds waiting outside.                                    The poor little Lizard, Bill, was in the middle, being held up by                                   two guinea-pigs, who were giving it something out of a bottle.                                      They all made a rush at Alice the moment she appeared; but she                                      ran off as hard as she could, and soon found herself safe in a                                      thick wood.                                                                                                                                                                                               `The first thing I've got to do,' said Alice to herself, as she                                   wandered about in the wood, `is to grow to my right size again;                                     and the second thing is to find my way into that lovely garden.                                     I think that will be the best plan.'                                                                                                                                                                      It sounded an excellent plan, no doubt, and very neatly and                                       simply arranged; the only difficulty was, that she had not the                                      smallest idea how to set about it; and while she was peering                                        about anxiously among the trees, a little sharp bark just over                                      her head made her look up in a great hurry.                                                                                                                                                               An enormous puppy was looking down at her with large round                                        eyes, and feebly stretching out one paw, trying to touch her.                                       `Poor little thing!' said Alice, in a coaxing tone, and she tried                                   hard to whistle to it; but she was terribly frightened all the                                      time at the thought that it might be hungry, in which case it                                       would be very likely to eat her up in spite of all her coaxing.                                                                                                                                           Hardly knowing what she did, she picked up a little bit of                                        stick, and held it out to the puppy; whereupon the puppy jumped                                     into the air off all its feet at once, with a yelp of delight,                                      and rushed at the stick, and made believe to worry it; then Alice                                   dodged behind a great thistle, to keep herself from being run                                       over; and the moment she appeared on the other side, the puppy                                      made another rush at the stick, and tumbled head over heels in                                      its hurry to get hold of it; then Alice, thinking it was very                                       like having a game of play with a cart-horse, and expecting every                                   moment to be trampled under its feet, ran round the thistle                                         again; then the puppy began a series of short charges at the                                        stick, running a very little way forwards each time and a long                                      way back, and barking hoarsely all the while, till at last it sat                                   down a good way off, panting, with its tongue hanging out of its                                    mouth, and its great eyes half shut.                                                                                                                                                                      This seemed to Alice a good opportunity for making her escape;                                    so she set off at once, and ran till she was quite tired and out                                    of breath, and till the puppy's bark sounded quite faint in the                                     distance.                                                                                                                                                                                                 `And yet what a dear little puppy it was!' said Alice, as she                                     leant against a buttercup to rest herself, and fanned herself                                       with one of the leaves:  `I should have liked teaching it tricks                                    very much, if--if I'd only been the right size to do it!  Oh                                        dear!  I'd nearly forgotten that I've got to grow up again!  Let                                    me see--how IS it to be managed?  I suppose I ought to eat or                                       drink something or other; but the great question is, what?'                                                                                                                                               The great question certainly was, what?  Alice looked all round                                   her at the flowers and the blades of grass, but she did not see                                     anything that looked like the right thing to eat or drink under                                     the circumstances.  There was a large mushroom growing near her,                                    about the same height as herself; and when she had looked under                                     it, and on both sides of it, and behind it, it occurred to her                                      that she might as well look and see what was on the top of it.                                                                                                                                            She stretched herself up on tiptoe, and peeped over the edge of                                   the mushroom, and her eyes immediately met those of a large                                         caterpillar, that was sitting on the top with its arms folded,                                      quietly smoking a long hookah, and taking not the smallest notice                                   of her or of anything else.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 CHAPTER V                                                                                                                                                                                       Advice from a Caterpillar                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in                                   silence:  at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its                                        mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.                                                                                                                                                      `Who are YOU?' said the Caterpillar.                                                                                                                                                                    This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation.  Alice                                    replied, rather shyly, `I--I hardly know, sir, just at present--                                    at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think                                   I must have been changed several times since then.'                                                                                                                                                       `What do you mean by that?' said the Caterpillar sternly.                                         `Explain yourself!'                                                                                                                                                                                       `I can't explain MYSELF, I'm afraid, sir' said Alice, `because                                    I'm not myself, you see.'                                                                                                                                                                                 `I don't see,' said the Caterpillar.                                                                                                                                                                    `I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly,' Alice replied very                                      politely, `for I can't understand it myself to begin with; and                                      being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.'                                                                                                                                                `It isn't,' said the Caterpillar.                                                                                                                                                                       `Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet,' said Alice; `but                                     when you have to turn into a chrysalis--you will some day, you                                      know--and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you'll                                   feel it a little queer, won't you?'                                                                                                                                                                       `Not a bit,' said the Caterpillar.                                                                                                                                                                      `Well, perhaps your feelings may be different,' said Alice;                                       `all I know is, it would feel very queer to ME.'                                                                                                                                                          `You!' said the Caterpillar contemptuously.  `Who are YOU?'                                                                                                                                             Which brought them back again to the beginning of the                                             conversation.  Alice felt a little irritated at the Caterpillar's                                   making such VERY short remarks, and she drew herself up and said,                                   very gravely, `I think, you ought to tell me who YOU are, first.'                                                                                                                                         `Why?' said the Caterpillar.                                                                                                                                                                            Here was another puzzling question; and as Alice could not                                        think of any good reason, and as the Caterpillar seemed to be in                                    a VERY unpleasant state of mind, she turned away.                                                                                                                                                         `Come back!' the Caterpillar called after her.  `I've something                                   important to say!'                                                                                                                                                                                        This sounded promising, certainly:  Alice turned and came back                                    again.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `Keep your temper,' said the Caterpillar.                                                                                                                                                               `Is that all?' said Alice, swallowing down her anger as well as                                   she could.                                                                                                                                                                                                `No,' said the Caterpillar.                                                                                                                                                                             Alice thought she might as well wait, as she had nothing else                                     to do, and perhaps after all it might tell her something worth                                      hearing.  For some minutes it puffed away without speaking, but                                     at last it unfolded its arms, took the hookah out of its mouth                                      again, and said, `So you think you're changed, do you?'                                                                                                                                                   `I'm afraid I am, sir,' said Alice; `I can't remember things as                                   I used--and I don't keep the same size for ten minutes together!'                                                                                                                                         `Can't remember WHAT things?' said the Caterpillar.                                                                                                                                                     `Well, I've tried to say "HOW DOTH THE LITTLE BUSY BEE," but it                                   all came different!' Alice replied in a very melancholy voice.                                                                                                                                            `Repeat, "YOU ARE OLD, FATHER WILLIAM,"' said the Caterpillar.                                                                                                                                          Alice folded her hands, and began:--                                                                                                                                                                      `You are old, Father William,' the young man said,                                                    `And your hair has become very white;                                                             And yet you incessantly stand on your head--                                                          Do you think, at your age, it is right?'                                                                                                                                                              `In my youth,' Father William replied to his son,                                                     `I feared it might injure the brain;                                                              But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,                                                         Why, I do it again and again.'                                                                                                                                                                        `You are old,' said the youth, `as I mentioned before,                                                And have grown most uncommonly fat;                                                               Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door--                                                     Pray, what is the reason of that?'                                                                                                                                                                    `In my youth,' said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,                                             `I kept all my limbs very supple                                                                  By the use of this ointment--one shilling the box--                                                   Allow me to sell you a couple?'                                                                                                                                                                       `You are old,' said the youth, `and your jaws are too weak                                            For anything tougher than suet;                                                                   Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak--                                             Pray how did you manage to do it?'                                                                                                                                                                    `In my youth,' said his father, `I took to the law,                                                   And argued each case with my wife;                                                                And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,                                                   Has lasted the rest of my life.'                                                                                                                                                                      `You are old,' said the youth, `one would hardly suppose                                              That your eye was as steady as ever;                                                              Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose--                                                     What made you so awfully clever?'                                                                                                                                                                     `I have answered three questions, and that is enough,'                                                Said his father; `don't give yourself airs!                                                       Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?                                                      Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!'                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  `That is not said right,' said the Caterpillar.                                                                                                                                                         `Not QUITE right, I'm afraid,' said Alice, timidly; `some of the                                  words have got altered.'                                                                                                                                                                                  `It is wrong from beginning to end,' said the Caterpillar                                         decidedly, and there was silence for some minutes.                                                                                                                                                        The Caterpillar was the first to speak.                                                                                                                                                                 `What size do you want to be?' it asked.                                                                                                                                                                `Oh, I'm not particular as to size,' Alice hastily replied;                                       `only one doesn't like changing so often, you know.'                                                                                                                                                      `I DON'T know,' said the Caterpillar.                                                                                                                                                                   Alice said nothing:  she had never been so much contradicted in                                   her life before, and she felt that she was losing her temper.                                                                                                                                             `Are you content now?' said the Caterpillar.                                                                                                                                                            `Well, I should like to be a LITTLE larger, sir, if you                                           wouldn't mind,' said Alice:  `three inches is such a wretched                                       height to be.'                                                                                                                                                                                            `It is a very good height indeed!' said the Caterpillar                                           angrily, rearing itself upright as it spoke (it was exactly three                                   inches high).                                                                                                                                                                                             `But I'm not used to it!' pleaded poor Alice in a piteous tone.                                   And she thought of herself, `I wish the creatures wouldn't be so                                    easily offended!'                                                                                                                                                                                         `You'll get used to it in time,' said the Caterpillar; and it                                     put the hookah into its mouth and began smoking again.                                                                                                                                                    This time Alice waited patiently until it chose to speak again.                                   In a minute or two the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its                                       mouth and yawned once or twice, and shook itself.  Then it got                                      down off the mushroom, and crawled away in the grass, merely                                        remarking as it went, `One side will make you grow taller, and                                      the other side will make you grow shorter.'                                                                                                                                                               `One side of WHAT?  The other side of WHAT?' thought Alice to                                     herself.                                                                                                                                                                                                  `Of the mushroom,' said the Caterpillar, just as if she had                                       asked it aloud; and in another moment it was out of sight.                                                                                                                                                Alice remained looking thoughtfully at the mushroom for a                                         minute, trying to make out which were the two sides of it; and as                                   it was perfectly round, she found this a very difficult question.                                   However, at last she stretched her arms round it as far as they                                     would go, and broke off a bit of the edge with each hand.                                                                                                                                                 `And now which is which?' she said to herself, and nibbled a                                      little of the right-hand bit to try the effect:  the next moment                                    she felt a violent blow underneath her chin:  it had struck her                                     foot!                                                                                                                                                                                                     She was a good deal frightened by this very sudden change, but                                    she felt that there was no time to be lost, as she was shrinking                                    rapidly; so she set to work at once to eat some of the other bit.                                   Her chin was pressed so closely against her foot, that there was                                    hardly room to open her mouth; but she did it at last, and                                          managed to swallow a morsel of the lefthand bit.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 *       *       *       *       *       *       *                                                                                                                                                           *       *       *       *       *       *                                                                                                                                                           *       *       *       *       *       *       *                                                                                                                                                    `Come, my head's free at last!' said Alice in a tone of                                           delight, which changed into alarm in another moment, when she                                       found that her shoulders were nowhere to be found:  all she could                                   see, when she looked down, was an immense length of neck, which                                     seemed to rise like a stalk out of a sea of green leaves that lay                                   far below her.                                                                                                                                                                                            `What CAN all that green stuff be?' said Alice.  `And where                                       HAVE my shoulders got to?  And oh, my poor hands, how is it I                                       can't see you?'  She was moving them about as she spoke, but no                                     result seemed to follow, except a little shaking among the                                          distant green leaves.                                                                                                                                                                                     As there seemed to be no chance of getting her hands up to her                                    head, she tried to get her head down to them, and was delighted                                     to find that her neck would bend about easily in any direction,                                     like a serpent.  She had just succeeded in curving it down into a                                   graceful zigzag, and was going to dive in among the leaves, which                                   she found to be nothing but the tops of the trees under which she                                   had been wandering, when a sharp hiss made her draw back in a                                       hurry:  a large pigeon had flown into her face, and was beating                                     her violently with its wings.                                                                                                                                                                             `Serpent!' screamed the Pigeon.                                                                                                                                                                         `I'm NOT a serpent!' said Alice indignantly.  `Let me alone!'                                                                                                                                           `Serpent, I say again!' repeated the Pigeon, but in a more                                        subdued tone, and added with a kind of sob, `I've tried every                                       way, and nothing seems to suit them!'                                                                                                                                                                     `I haven't the least idea what you're talking about,' said                                        Alice.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `I've tried the roots of trees, and I've tried banks, and I've                                    tried hedges,' the Pigeon went on, without attending to her; `but                                   those serpents!  There's no pleasing them!'                                                                                                                                                               Alice was more and more puzzled, but she thought there was no                                     use in saying anything more till the Pigeon had finished.                                                                                                                                                 `As if it wasn't trouble enough hatching the eggs,' said the                                      Pigeon; `but I must be on the look-out for serpents night and                                       day!  Why, I haven't had a wink of sleep these three weeks!'                                                                                                                                              `I'm very sorry you've been annoyed,' said Alice, who was                                         beginning to see its meaning.                                                                                                                                                                             `And just as I'd taken the highest tree in the wood,' continued                                   the Pigeon, raising its voice to a shriek, `and just as I was                                       thinking I should be free of them at last, they must needs come                                     wriggling down from the sky!  Ugh, Serpent!'                                                                                                                                                              `But I'm NOT a serpent, I tell you!' said Alice.  `I'm a--I'm                                     a--'                                                                                                                                                                                                      `Well!  WHAT are you?' said the Pigeon.  `I can see you're                                        trying to invent something!'                                                                                                                                                                              `I--I'm a little girl,' said Alice, rather doubtfully, as she                                     remembered the number of changes she had gone through that day.                                                                                                                                           `A likely story indeed!' said the Pigeon in a tone of the                                         deepest contempt.  `I've seen a good many little girls in my                                        time, but never ONE with such a neck as that!  No, no!  You're a                                    serpent; and there's no use denying it.  I suppose you'll be                                        telling me next that you never tasted an egg!'                                                                                                                                                            `I HAVE tasted eggs, certainly,' said Alice, who was a very                                       truthful child; `but little girls eat eggs quite as much as                                         serpents do, you know.'                                                                                                                                                                                   `I don't believe it,' said the Pigeon; `but if they do, why                                       then they're a kind of serpent, that's all I can say.'                                                                                                                                                    This was such a new idea to Alice, that she was quite silent                                      for a minute or two, which gave the Pigeon the opportunity of                                       adding, `You're looking for eggs, I know THAT well enough; and                                      what does it matter to me whether you're a little girl or a                                         serpent?'                                                                                                                                                                                                 `It matters a good deal to ME,' said Alice hastily; `but I'm                                      not looking for eggs, as it happens; and if I was, I shouldn't                                      want YOURS:  I don't like them raw.'                                                                                                                                                                      `Well, be off, then!' said the Pigeon in a sulky tone, as it                                      settled down again into its nest.  Alice crouched down among the                                    trees as well as she could, for her neck kept getting entangled                                     among the branches, and every now and then she had to stop and                                      untwist it.  After a while she remembered that she still held the                                   pieces of mushroom in her hands, and she set to work very                                           carefully, nibbling first at one and then at the other, and                                         growing sometimes taller and sometimes shorter, until she had                                       succeeded in bringing herself down to her usual height.                                                                                                                                                   It was so long since she had been anything near the right size,                                   that it felt quite strange at first; but she got used to it in a                                    few minutes, and began talking to herself, as usual.  `Come,                                        there's half my plan done now!  How puzzling all these changes                                      are!  I'm never sure what I'm going to be, from one minute to                                       another!  However, I've got back to my right size:  the next                                        thing is, to get into that beautiful garden--how IS that to be                                      done, I wonder?'  As she said this, she came suddenly upon an                                       open place, with a little house in it about four feet high.                                         `Whoever lives there,' thought Alice, `it'll never do to come                                       upon them THIS size:  why, I should frighten them out of their                                      wits!'  So she began nibbling at the righthand bit again, and did                                   not venture to go near the house till she had brought herself                                       down to nine inches high.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  CHAPTER VI                                                                                                                                                                                            Pig and Pepper                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       For a minute or two she stood looking at the house, and                                           wondering what to do next, when suddenly a footman in livery came                                   running out of the wood--(she considered him to be a footman                                        because he was in livery:  otherwise, judging by his face only,                                     she would have called him a fish)--and rapped loudly at the door                                    with his knuckles.  It was opened by another footman in livery,                                     with a round face, and large eyes like a frog; and both footmen,                                    Alice noticed, had powdered hair that curled all over their                                         heads.  She felt very curious to know what it was all about, and                                    crept a little way out of the wood to listen.                                                                                                                                                             The Fish-Footman began by producing from under his arm a great                                    letter, nearly as large as himself, and this he handed over to                                      the other, saying, in a solemn tone, `For the Duchess.  An                                          invitation from the Queen to play croquet.'  The Frog-Footman                                       repeated, in the same solemn tone, only changing the order of the                                   words a little, `From the Queen.  An invitation for the Duchess                                     to play croquet.'                                                                                                                                                                                         Then they both bowed low, and their curls got entangled                                           together.                                                                                                                                                                                                 Alice laughed so much at this, that she had to run back into                                      the wood for fear of their hearing her; and when she next peeped                                    out the Fish-Footman was gone, and the other was sitting on the                                     ground near the door, staring stupidly up into the sky.                                                                                                                                                   Alice went timidly up to the door, and knocked.                                                                                                                                                         `There's no sort of use in knocking,' said the Footman, `and                                      that for two reasons.  First, because I'm on the same side of the                                   door as you are; secondly, because they're making such a noise                                      inside, no one could possibly hear you.'  And certainly there was                                   a most extraordinary noise going on within--a constant howling                                      and sneezing, and every now and then a great crash, as if a dish                                    or kettle had been broken to pieces.                                                                                                                                                                      `Please, then,' said Alice, `how am I to get in?'                                                                                                                                                       `There might be some sense in your knocking,' the Footman went                                    on without attending to her, `if we had the door between us.  For                                   instance, if you were INSIDE, you might knock, and I could let                                      you out, you know.'  He was looking up into the sky all the time                                    he was speaking, and this Alice thought decidedly uncivil.  `But                                    perhaps he can't help it,' she said to herself; `his eyes are so                                    VERY nearly at the top of his head.  But at any rate he might                                       answer questions.--How am I to get in?' she repeated, aloud.                                                                                                                                              `I shall sit here,' the Footman remarked, `till tomorrow--'                                                                                                                                             At this moment the door of the house opened, and a large plate                                    came skimming out, straight at the Footman's head:  it just                                         grazed his nose, and broke to pieces against one of the trees                                       behind him.                                                                                                                                                                                               `--or next day, maybe,' the Footman continued in the same tone,                                   exactly as if nothing had happened.                                                                                                                                                                       `How am I to get in?' asked Alice again, in a louder tone.                                                                                                                                              `ARE you to get in at all?' said the Footman.  `That's the                                        first question, you know.'                                                                                                                                                                                It was, no doubt:  only Alice did not like to be told so.                                         `It's really dreadful,' she muttered to herself, `the way all the                                   creatures argue.  It's enough to drive one crazy!'                                                                                                                                                        The Footman seemed to think this a good opportunity for                                           repeating his remark, with variations.  `I shall sit here,' he                                      said, `on and off, for days and days.'                                                                                                                                                                    `But what am I to do?' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                      `Anything you like,' said the Footman, and began whistling.                                                                                                                                             `Oh, there's no use in talking to him,' said Alice desperately:                                   `he's perfectly idiotic!'  And she opened the door and went in.                                                                                                                                           The door led right into a large kitchen, which was full of                                        smoke from one end to the other:  the Duchess was sitting on a                                      three-legged stool in the middle, nursing a baby; the cook was                                      leaning over the fire, stirring a large cauldron which seemed to                                    be full of soup.                                                                                                                                                                                          `There's certainly too much pepper in that soup!' Alice said to                                   herself, as well as she could for sneezing.                                                                                                                                                               There was certainly too much of it in the air.  Even the                                          Duchess sneezed occasionally; and as for the baby, it was                                           sneezing and howling alternately without a moment's pause.  The                                     only things in the kitchen that did not sneeze, were the cook,                                      and a large cat which was sitting on the hearth and grinning from                                   ear to ear.                                                                                                                                                                                               `Please would you tell me,' said Alice, a little timidly, for                                     she was not quite sure whether it was good manners for her to                                       speak first, `why your cat grins like that?'                                                                                                                                                              `It's a Cheshire cat,' said the Duchess, `and that's why.                                         Pig!'                                                                                                                                                                                                     She said the last word with such sudden violence that Alice                                       quite jumped; but she saw in another moment that it was addressed                                   to the baby, and not to her, so she took courage, and went on                                       again:--                                                                                                                                                                                                  `I didn't know that Cheshire cats always grinned; in fact, I                                      didn't know that cats COULD grin.'                                                                                                                                                                        `They all can,' said the Duchess; `and most of 'em do.'                                                                                                                                                 `I don't know of any that do,' Alice said very politely,                                          feeling quite pleased to have got into a conversation.                                                                                                                                                    `You don't know much,' said the Duchess; `and that's a fact.'                                                                                                                                           Alice did not at all like the tone of this remark, and thought                                    it would be as well to introduce some other subject of                                              conversation.  While she was trying to fix on one, the cook took                                    the cauldron of soup off the fire, and at once set to work                                          throwing everything within her reach at the Duchess and the baby                                    --the fire-irons came first; then followed a shower of saucepans,                                   plates, and dishes.  The Duchess took no notice of them even when                                   they hit her; and the baby was howling so much already, that it                                     was quite impossible to say whether the blows hurt it or not.                                                                                                                                             `Oh, PLEASE mind what you're doing!' cried Alice, jumping up                                      and down in an agony of terror.  `Oh, there goes his PRECIOUS                                       nose'; as an unusually large saucepan flew close by it, and very                                    nearly carried it off.                                                                                                                                                                                    `If everybody minded their own business,' the Duchess said in a                                   hoarse growl, `the world would go round a deal faster than it                                       does.'                                                                                                                                                                                                    `Which would NOT be an advantage,' said Alice, who felt very                                      glad to get an opportunity of showing off a little of her                                           knowledge.  `Just think of what work it would make with the day                                     and night!  You see the earth takes twenty-four hours to turn                                       round on its axis--'                                                                                                                                                                                      `Talking of axes,' said the Duchess, `chop off her head!'                                                                                                                                               Alice glanced rather anxiously at the cook, to see if she meant                                   to take the hint; but the cook was busily stirring the soup, and                                    seemed not to be listening, so she went on again:  `Twenty-four                                     hours, I THINK; or is it twelve?  I--'                                                                                                                                                                    `Oh, don't bother ME,' said the Duchess; `I never could abide                                     figures!'  And with that she began nursing her child again,                                         singing a sort of lullaby to it as she did so, and giving it a                                      violent shake at the end of every line:                                                                                                                                                                         `Speak roughly to your little boy,                                                                    And beat him when he sneezes:                                                                     He only does it to annoy,                                                                             Because he knows it teases.'                                                                                                                                                                                      CHORUS.                                                                                                                                                                                 (In which the cook and the baby joined):--                                                                                                                                                                          `Wow! wow! wow!'                                                                                                                                                                          While the Duchess sang the second verse of the song, she kept                                     tossing the baby violently up and down, and the poor little thing                                   howled so, that Alice could hardly hear the words:--                                                                                                                                                            `I speak severely to my boy,                                                                          I beat him when he sneezes;                                                                       For he can thoroughly enjoy                                                                           The pepper when he pleases!'                                                                                                                                                                                      CHORUS.                                                                                                                                                                                             `Wow! wow! wow!'                                                                                                                                                                          `Here! you may nurse it a bit, if you like!' the Duchess said                                     to Alice, flinging the baby at her as she spoke.  `I must go and                                    get ready to play croquet with the Queen,' and she hurried out of                                   the room.  The cook threw a frying-pan after her as she went out,                                   but it just missed her.                                                                                                                                                                                   Alice caught the baby with some difficulty, as it was a queer-                                    shaped little creature, and held out its arms and legs in all                                       directions, `just like a star-fish,' thought Alice.  The poor                                       little thing was snorting like a steam-engine when she caught it,                                   and kept doubling itself up and straightening itself out again,                                     so that altogether, for the first minute or two, it was as much                                     as she could do to hold it.                                                                                                                                                                               As soon as she had made out the proper way of nursing it,                                         (which was to twist it up into a sort of knot, and then keep                                        tight hold of its right ear and left foot, so as to prevent its                                     undoing itself,) she carried it out into the open air.  `IF I                                       don't take this child away with me,' thought Alice, `they're sure                                   to kill it in a day or two:  wouldn't it be murder to leave it                                      behind?'  She said the last words out loud, and the little thing                                    grunted in reply (it had left off sneezing by this time).  `Don't                                   grunt,' said Alice; `that's not at all a proper way of expressing                                   yourself.'                                                                                                                                                                                                The baby grunted again, and Alice looked very anxiously into                                      its face to see what was the matter with it.  There could be no                                     doubt that it had a VERY turn-up nose, much more like a snout                                       than a real nose; also its eyes were getting extremely small for                                    a baby:  altogether Alice did not like the look of the thing at                                     all.  `But perhaps it was only sobbing,' she thought, and looked                                    into its eyes again, to see if there were any tears.                                                                                                                                                      No, there were no tears.  `If you're going to turn into a pig,                                    my dear,' said Alice, seriously, `I'll have nothing more to do                                      with you.  Mind now!'  The poor little thing sobbed again (or                                       grunted, it was impossible to say which), and they went on for                                      some while in silence.                                                                                                                                                                                    Alice was just beginning to think to herself, `Now, what am I                                     to do with this creature when I get it home?' when it grunted                                       again, so violently, that she looked down into its face in some                                     alarm.  This time there could be NO mistake about it:  it was                                       neither more nor less than a pig, and she felt that it would be                                     quite absurd for her to carry it further.                                                                                                                                                                 So she set the little creature down, and felt quite relieved to                                   see it trot away quietly into the wood.  `If it had grown up,'                                      she said to herself, `it would have made a dreadfully ugly child:                                   but it makes rather a handsome pig, I think.'  And she began                                        thinking over other children she knew, who might do very well as                                    pigs, and was just saying to herself, `if one only knew the right                                   way to change them--' when she was a little startled by seeing                                      the Cheshire Cat sitting on a bough of a tree a few yards off.                                                                                                                                            The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice.  It looked good-                                          natured, she thought:  still it had VERY long claws and a great                                     many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect.                                                                                                                                         `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:  they'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.'                                                                                                                                          Alice didn't think that proved it at all; however, she went on                                    `And how do you know that you're mad?'                                                                                                                                                                    `To begin with,' said the Cat, `a dog's not mad.  You grant                                       that?'                                                                                                                                                                                                    `I suppose so,' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                             `Well, then,' the Cat went on, `you see, a dog growls when it's                                   angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased.  Now I growl when I'm                                   pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry.  Therefore I'm mad.'                                                                                                                                             `I call it purring, not growling,' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                          `Call it what you like,' said the Cat.  `Do you play croquet                                      with the Queen to-day?'                                                                                                                                                                                   `I should like it very much,' said Alice, `but I haven't been                                     invited yet.'                                                                                                                                                                                             `You'll see me there,' said the Cat, and vanished.                                                                                                                                                      Alice was not much surprised at this, she was getting so used                                     to queer things happening.  While she was looking at the place                                      where it had been, it suddenly appeared again.                                                                                                                                                            `By-the-bye, what became of the baby?' said the Cat.  `I'd                                        nearly forgotten to ask.'                                                                                                                                                                                 `It turned into a pig,' Alice quietly said, just as if it had                                     come back in a natural way.                                                                                                                                                                               `I thought it would,' said the Cat, and vanished again.                                                                                                                                                 Alice waited a little, half expecting to see it again, but it                                     did not appear, and after a minute or two she walked on in the                                      direction in which the March Hare was said to live.  `I've seen                                     hatters before,' she said to herself; `the March Hare will be                                       much the most interesting, and perhaps as this is May it won't be                                   raving mad--at least not so mad as it was in March.'  As she said                                   this, she looked up, and there was the Cat again, sitting on a                                      branch of a tree.                                                                                                                                                                                         `Did you say pig, or fig?' said the Cat.                                                                                                                                                                `I said pig,' replied Alice; `and I wish you wouldn't keep                                        appearing and vanishing so suddenly:  you make one quite giddy.'                                                                                                                                          `All right,' said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite                                        slowly, beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the                                     grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone.                                                                                                                                             `Well!  I've often seen a cat without a grin,' thought Alice;                                     `but a grin without a cat!  It's the most curious thing I ever                                      say in my life!'                                                                                                                                                                                          She had not gone much farther before she came in sight of the                                     house of the March Hare:  she thought it must be the right house,                                   because the chimneys were shaped like ears and the roof was                                         thatched with fur.  It was so large a house, that she did not                                       like to go nearer till she had nibbled some more of the lefthand                                    bit of mushroom, and raised herself to about two feet high:  even                                   then she walked up towards it rather timidly, saying to herself                                     `Suppose it should be raving mad after all!  I almost wish I'd                                      gone to see the Hatter instead!'                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           CHAPTER VII                                                                                                                                                                                           A Mad Tea-Party                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house,                                     and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it:  a                                         Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two                                   were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and the                                     talking over its head.  `Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse,'                                      thought Alice; `only, as it's asleep, I suppose it doesn't mind.'                                                                                                                                         The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded                                         together at one corner of it:  `No room!  No room!' they cried                                      out when they saw Alice coming.  `There's PLENTY of room!' said                                     Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one                                     end of the table.                                                                                                                                                                                         `Have some wine,' the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.                                                                                                                                           Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it                                     but tea.  `I don't see any wine,' she remarked.                                                                                                                                                           `There isn't any,' said the March Hare.                                                                                                                                                                 `Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it,' said Alice                                        angrily.                                                                                                                                                                                                  `It wasn't very civil of you to sit down without being                                            invited,' said the March Hare.                                                                                                                                                                            `I didn't know it was YOUR table,' said Alice; `it's laid for a                                   great many more than three.'                                                                                                                                                                              `Your hair wants cutting,' said the Hatter.  He had been                                          looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was                                   his first speech.                                                                                                                                                                                         `You should learn not to make personal remarks,' Alice said                                       with some severity; `it's very rude.'                                                                                                                                                                     The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all                                     he SAID was, `Why is a raven like a writing-desk?'                                                                                                                                                        `Come, we shall have some fun now!' thought Alice.  `I'm glad                                     they've begun asking riddles.--I believe I can guess that,' she                                     added aloud.                                                                                                                                                                                              `Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?'                                   said the March Hare.                                                                                                                                                                                      `Exactly so,' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                               `Then you should say what you mean,' the March Hare went on.                                                                                                                                            `I do,' Alice hastily replied; `at least--at least I mean what                                    I say--that's the same thing, you know.'                                                                                                                                                                  `Not the same thing a bit!' said the Hatter.  `You might just                                     as well say that "I see what I eat" is the same thing as "I eat                                     what I see"!'                                                                                                                                                                                             `You might just as well say,' added the March Hare, `that "I                                      like what I get" is the same thing as "I get what I like"!'                                                                                                                                               `You might just as well say,' added the Dormouse, who seemed to                                   be talking in his sleep, `that "I breathe when I sleep" is the                                      same thing as "I sleep when I breathe"!'                                                                                                                                                                  `It IS the same thing with you,' said the Hatter, and here the                                    conversation dropped, and the party sat silent for a minute,                                        while Alice thought over all she could remember about ravens and                                    writing-desks, which wasn't much.                                                                                                                                                                         The Hatter was the first to break the silence.  `What day of                                      the month is it?' he said, turning to Alice:  he had taken his                                      watch out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking                                    it every now and then, and holding it to his ear.                                                                                                                                                         Alice considered a little, and then said `The fourth.'                                                                                                                                                  `Two days wrong!' sighed the Hatter.  `I told you butter                                          wouldn't suit the works!' he added looking angrily at the March                                     Hare.                                                                                                                                                                                                     `It was the BEST butter,' the March Hare meekly replied.                                                                                                                                                `Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,' the Hatter                                       grumbled:  `you shouldn't have put it in with the bread-knife.'                                                                                                                                           The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily:  then                                    he dipped it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again:  but he                                   could think of nothing better to say than his first remark, `It                                     was the BEST butter, you know.'                                                                                                                                                                           Alice had been looking over his shoulder with some curiosity.                                     `What a funny watch!' she remarked.  `It tells the day of the                                       month, and doesn't tell what o'clock it is!'                                                                                                                                                              `Why should it?' muttered the Hatter.  `Does YOUR watch tell                                      you what year it is?'                                                                                                                                                                                     `Of course not,' Alice replied very readily:  `but that's                                         because it stays the same year for such a long time together.'                                                                                                                                            `Which is just the case with MINE,' said the Hatter.                                                                                                                                                    Alice felt dreadfully puzzled.  The Hatter's remark seemed to                                     have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English.                                    `I don't quite understand you,' she said, as politely as she                                        could.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `The Dormouse is asleep again,' said the Hatter, and he poured                                    a little hot tea upon its nose.                                                                                                                                                                           The Dormouse shook its head impatiently, and said, without                                        opening its eyes, `Of course, of course; just what I was going to                                   remark myself.'                                                                                                                                                                                           `Have you guessed the riddle yet?' the Hatter said, turning to                                    Alice again.                                                                                                                                                                                              `No, I give it up,' Alice replied:  `what's the answer?'                                                                                                                                                `I haven't the slightest idea,' said the Hatter.                                                                                                                                                        `Nor I,' said the March Hare.                                                                                                                                                                           Alice sighed wearily.  `I think you might do something better                                     with the time,' she said, `than waste it in asking riddles that                                     have no answers.'                                                                                                                                                                                         `If you knew Time as well as I do,' said the Hatter, `you                                         wouldn't talk about wasting IT.  It's HIM.'                                                                                                                                                               `I don't know what you mean,' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                               `Of course you don't!' the Hatter said, tossing his head                                          contemptuously.  `I dare say you never even spoke to Time!'                                                                                                                                               `Perhaps not,' Alice cautiously replied:  `but I know I have to                                   beat time when I learn music.'                                                                                                                                                                            `Ah! that accounts for it,' said the Hatter.  `He won't stand                                     beating.  Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he'd do                                     almost anything you liked with the clock.  For instance, suppose                                    it were nine o'clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons:                                    you'd only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the                                       clock in a twinkling!  Half-past one, time for dinner!'                                                                                                                                                   (`I only wish it was,' the March Hare said to itself in a                                         whisper.)                                                                                                                                                                                                 `That would be grand, certainly,' said Alice thoughtfully:                                        `but then--I shouldn't be hungry for it, you know.'                                                                                                                                                       `Not at first, perhaps,' said the Hatter:  `but you could keep                                    it to half-past one as long as you liked.'                                                                                                                                                                `Is that the way YOU manage?' Alice asked.                                                                                                                                                              The Hatter shook his head mournfully.  `Not I!' he replied.                                       `We quarrelled last March--just before HE went mad, you know--'                                     (pointing with his tea spoon at the March Hare,) `--it was at the                                   great concert given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing                                                                                                                                                       "Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!                                                                      How I wonder what you're at!"                                                                                                                                                               You know the song, perhaps?'                                                                                                                                                                              `I've heard something like it,' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                             `It goes on, you know,' the Hatter continued, `in this way:--                                                                                                                                                     "Up above the world you fly,                                                                        Like a tea-tray in the sky.                                                                                 Twinkle, twinkle--"'                                                                                                                                                                Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep                                      `Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle--' and went on so long that                                     they had to pinch it to make it stop.                                                                                                                                                                     `Well, I'd hardly finished the first verse,' said the Hatter,                                     `when the Queen jumped up and bawled out, "He's murdering the                                       time!  Off with his head!"'                                                                                                                                                                               `How dreadfully savage!' exclaimed Alice.                                                                                                                                                               `And ever since that,' the Hatter went on in a mournful tone,                                     `he won't do a thing I ask!  It's always six o'clock now.'                                                                                                                                                A bright idea came into Alice's head.  `Is that the reason so                                     many tea-things are put out here?' she asked.                                                                                                                                                             `Yes, that's it,' said the Hatter with a sigh:  `it's always                                      tea-time, and we've no time to wash the things between whiles.'                                                                                                                                           `Then you keep moving round, I suppose?' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                    `Exactly so,' said the Hatter:  `as the things get used up.'                                                                                                                                            `But what happens when you come to the beginning again?' Alice                                    ventured to ask.                                                                                                                                                                                          `Suppose we change the subject,' the March Hare interrupted,                                      yawning.  `I'm getting tired of this.  I vote the young lady                                        tells us a story.'                                                                                                                                                                                        `I'm afraid I don't know one,' said Alice, rather alarmed at                                      the proposal.                                                                                                                                                                                             `Then the Dormouse shall!' they both cried.  `Wake up,                                            Dormouse!'  And they pinched it on both sides at once.                                                                                                                                                    The Dormouse slowly opened his eyes.  `I wasn't asleep,' he                                       said in a hoarse, feeble voice:  `I heard every word you fellows                                    were saying.'                                                                                                                                                                                             `Tell us a story!' said the March Hare.                                                                                                                                                                 `Yes, please do!' pleaded Alice.                                                                                                                                                                        `And be quick about it,' added the Hatter, `or you'll be asleep                                   again before it's done.'                                                                                                                                                                                  `Once upon a time there were three little sisters,' the                                           Dormouse began in a great hurry; `and their names were Elsie,                                       Lacie, and Tillie; and they lived at the bottom of a well--'                                                                                                                                              `What did they live on?' said Alice, who always took a great                                      interest in questions of eating and drinking.                                                                                                                                                             `They lived on treacle,' said the Dormouse, after thinking a                                      minute or two.                                                                                                                                                                                            `They couldn't have done that, you know,' Alice gently                                            remarked; `they'd have been ill.'                                                                                                                                                                         `So they were,' said the Dormouse; `VERY ill.'                                                                                                                                                          Alice tried to fancy to herself what such an extraordinary ways                                   of living would be like, but it puzzled her too much, so she went                                   on:  `But why did they live at the bottom of a well?'                                                                                                                                                     `Take some more tea,' the March Hare said to Alice, very                                          earnestly.                                                                                                                                                                                                `I've had nothing yet,' Alice replied in an offended tone, `so                                    I can't take more.'                                                                                                                                                                                       `You mean you can't take LESS,' said the Hatter:  `it's very                                      easy to take MORE than nothing.'                                                                                                                                                                          `Nobody asked YOUR opinion,' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                `Who's making personal remarks now?' the Hatter asked                                             triumphantly.                                                                                                                                                                                             Alice did not quite know what to say to this:  so she helped                                      herself to some tea and bread-and-butter, and then turned to the                                    Dormouse, and repeated her question.  `Why did they live at the                                     bottom of a well?'                                                                                                                                                                                        The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and                                    then said, `It was a treacle-well.'                                                                                                                                                                       `There's no such thing!'  Alice was beginning very angrily, but                                   the Hatter and the March Hare went `Sh! sh!' and the Dormouse                                       sulkily remarked, `If you can't be civil, you'd better finish the                                   story for yourself.'                                                                                                                                                                                      `No, please go on!' Alice said very humbly; `I won't interrupt                                    again.  I dare say there may be ONE.'                                                                                                                                                                     `One, indeed!' said the Dormouse indignantly.  However, he                                        consented to go on.  `And so these three little sisters--they                                       were learning to draw, you know--'                                                                                                                                                                        `What did they draw?' said Alice, quite forgetting her promise.                                                                                                                                         `Treacle,' said the Dormouse, without considering at all this                                     time.                                                                                                                                                                                                     `I want a clean cup,' interrupted the Hatter:  `let's all move                                    one place on.'                                                                                                                                                                                            He moved on as he spoke, and the Dormouse followed him:  the                                      March Hare moved into the Dormouse's place, and Alice rather                                        unwillingly took the place of the March Hare.  The Hatter was the                                   only one who got any advantage from the change:  and Alice was a                                    good deal worse off than before, as the March Hare had just upset                                   the milk-jug into his plate.                                                                                                                                                                              Alice did not wish to offend the Dormouse again, so she began                                     very cautiously:  `But I don't understand.  Where did they draw                                     the treacle from?'                                                                                                                                                                                        `You can draw water out of a water-well,' said the Hatter; `so                                    I should think you could draw treacle out of a treacle-well--eh,                                    stupid?'                                                                                                                                                                                                  `But they were IN the well,' Alice said to the Dormouse, not                                      choosing to notice this last remark.                                                                                                                                                                      `Of course they were', said the Dormouse; `--well in.'                                                                                                                                                  This answer so confused poor Alice, that she let the Dormouse                                     go on for some time without interrupting it.                                                                                                                                                              `They were learning to draw,' the Dormouse went on, yawning and                                   rubbing its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy; `and they drew                                    all manner of things--everything that begins with an M--'                                                                                                                                                 `Why with an M?' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                            `Why not?' said the March Hare.                                                                                                                                                                         Alice was silent.                                                                                                                                                                                       The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going                                      off into a doze; but, on being pinched by the Hatter, it woke up                                    again with a little shriek, and went on:  `--that begins with an                                    M, such as mouse-traps, and the moon, and memory, and muchness--                                    you know you say things are "much of a muchness"--did you ever                                      see such a thing as a drawing of a muchness?'                                                                                                                                                             `Really, now you ask me,' said Alice, very much confused, `I                                      don't think--'                                                                                                                                                                                            `Then you shouldn't talk,' said the Hatter.                                                                                                                                                             This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear:  she got                                   up in great disgust, and walked off; the Dormouse fell asleep                                       instantly, and neither of the others took the least notice of her                                   going, though she looked back once or twice, half hoping that                                       they would call after her:  the last time she saw them, they were                                   trying to put the Dormouse into the teapot.                                                                                                                                                               `At any rate I'll never go THERE again!' said Alice as she                                        picked her way through the wood.  `It's the stupidest tea-party I                                   ever was at in all my life!'                                                                                                                                                                              Just as she said this, she noticed that one of the trees had a                                    door leading right into it.  `That's very curious!' she thought.                                    `But everything's curious today.  I think I may as well go in at                                    once.'  And in she went.                                                                                                                                                                                  Once more she found herself in the long hall, and close to the                                    little glass table.  `Now, I'll manage better this time,' she                                       said to herself, and began by taking the little golden key, and                                     unlocking the door that led into the garden.  Then she went to                                      work nibbling at the mushroom (she had kept a piece of it in her                                    pocked) till she was about a foot high:  then she walked down the                                   little passage:  and THEN--she found herself at last in the                                         beautiful garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool                                         fountains.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                CHAPTER VIII                                                                                                                                                                                     The Queen's Croquet-Ground                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 A large rose-tree stood near the entrance of the garden:  the                                     roses growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at                                   it, busily painting them red.  Alice thought this a very curious                                    thing, and she went nearer to watch them, and just as she came up                                   to them she heard one of them say, `Look out now, Five!  Don't go                                   splashing paint over me like that!'                                                                                                                                                                       `I couldn't help it,' said Five, in a sulky tone; `Seven jogged                                   my elbow.'                                                                                                                                                                                                On which Seven looked up and said, `That's right, Five!  Always                                   lay the blame on others!'                                                                                                                                                                                 `YOU'D better not talk!' said Five.  `I heard the Queen say only                                  yesterday you deserved to be beheaded!'                                                                                                                                                                   `What for?' said the one who had spoken first.                                                                                                                                                          `That's none of YOUR business, Two!' said Seven.                                                                                                                                                        `Yes, it IS his business!' said Five, `and I'll tell him--it                                      was for bringing the cook tulip-roots instead of onions.'                                                                                                                                                 Seven flung down his brush, and had just begun `Well, of all                                      the unjust things--' when his eye chanced to fall upon Alice, as                                    she stood watching them, and he checked himself suddenly:  the                                      others looked round also, and all of them bowed low.                                                                                                                                                      `Would you tell me,' said Alice, a little timidly, `why you are                                   painting those roses?'                                                                                                                                                                                    Five and Seven said nothing, but looked at Two.  Two began in a                                   low voice, `Why the fact is, you see, Miss, this here ought to                                      have been a RED rose-tree, and we put a white one in by mistake;                                    and if the Queen was to find it out, we should all have our heads                                   cut off, you know.  So you see, Miss, we're doing our best, afore                                   she comes, to--'  At this moment Five, who had been anxiously                                       looking across the garden, called out `The Queen!  The Queen!'                                      and the three gardeners instantly threw themselves flat upon                                        their faces.  There was a sound of many footsteps, and Alice                                        looked round, eager to see the Queen.                                                                                                                                                                     First came ten soldiers carrying clubs; these were all shaped                                     like the three gardeners, oblong and flat, with their hands and                                     feet at the corners:  next the ten courtiers; these were                                            ornamented all over with diamonds, and walked two and two, as the                                   soldiers did.  After these came the royal children; there were                                      ten of them, and the little dears came jumping merrily along hand                                   in hand, in couples:  they were all ornamented with hearts.  Next                                   came the guests, mostly Kings and Queens, and among them Alice                                      recognised the White Rabbit:  it was talking in a hurried nervous                                   manner, smiling at everything that was said, and went by without                                    noticing her.  Then followed the Knave of Hearts, carrying the                                      King's crown on a crimson velvet cushion; and, last of all this                                     grand procession, came THE KING AND QUEEN OF HEARTS.                                                                                                                                                      Alice was rather doubtful whether she ought not to lie down on                                    her face like the three gardeners, but she could not remember                                       every having heard of such a rule at processions; `and besides,                                     what would be the use of a procession,' thought she, `if people                                     had all to lie down upon their faces, so that they couldn't see                                     it?'  So she stood still where she was, and waited.                                                                                                                                                       When the procession came opposite to Alice, they all stopped                                      and looked at her, and the Queen said severely `Who is this?'                                       She said it to the Knave of Hearts, who only bowed and smiled in                                    reply.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `Idiot!' said the Queen, tossing her head impatiently; and,                                       turning to Alice, she went on, `What's your name, child?'                                                                                                                                                 `My name is Alice, so please your Majesty,' said Alice very                                       politely; but she added, to herself, `Why, they're only a pack of                                   cards, after all.  I needn't be afraid of them!'                                                                                                                                                          `And who are THESE?' said the Queen, pointing to the three                                        gardeners who were lying round the rosetree; for, you see, as                                       they were lying on their faces, and the pattern on their backs                                      was the same as the rest of the pack, she could not tell whether                                    they were gardeners, or soldiers, or courtiers, or three of her                                     own children.                                                                                                                                                                                             `How should I know?' said Alice, surprised at her own courage.                                    `It's no business of MINE.'                                                                                                                                                                               The Queen turned crimson with fury, and, after glaring at her                                     for a moment like a wild beast, screamed `Off with her head!                                        Off--'                                                                                                                                                                                                    `Nonsense!' said Alice, very loudly and decidedly, and the                                        Queen was silent.                                                                                                                                                                                         The King laid his hand upon her arm, and timidly said                                             `Consider, my dear:  she is only a child!'                                                                                                                                                                The Queen turned angrily away from him, and said to the Knave                                     `Turn them over!'                                                                                                                                                                                         The Knave did so, very carefully, with one foot.                                                                                                                                                        `Get up!' said the Queen, in a shrill, loud voice, and the                                        three gardeners instantly jumped up, and began bowing to the                                        King, the Queen, the royal children, and everybody else.                                                                                                                                                  `Leave off that!' screamed the Queen.  `You make me giddy.'                                       And then, turning to the rose-tree, she went on, `What HAVE you                                     been doing here?'                                                                                                                                                                                         `May it please your Majesty,' said Two, in a very humble tone,                                    going down on one knee as he spoke, `we were trying--'                                                                                                                                                    `I see!' said the Queen, who had meanwhile been examining the                                     roses.  `Off with their heads!' and the procession moved on,                                        three of the soldiers remaining behind to execute the unfortunate                                   gardeners, who ran to Alice for protection.                                                                                                                                                               `You shan't be beheaded!' said Alice, and she put them into a                                     large flower-pot that stood near.  The three soldiers wandered                                      about for a minute or two, looking for them, and then quietly                                       marched off after the others.                                                                                                                                                                             `Are their heads off?' shouted the Queen.                                                                                                                                                               `Their heads are gone, if it please your Majesty!' the soldiers                                   shouted in reply.                                                                                                                                                                                         `That's right!' shouted the Queen.  `Can you play croquet?'                                                                                                                                             The soldiers were silent, and looked at Alice, as the question                                    was evidently meant for her.                                                                                                                                                                              `Yes!' shouted Alice.                                                                                                                                                                                   `Come on, then!' roared the Queen, and Alice joined the                                           procession, wondering very much what would happen next.                                                                                                                                                   `It's--it's a very fine day!' said a timid voice at her side.                                     She was walking by the White Rabbit, who was peeping anxiously                                      into her face.                                                                                                                                                                                            `Very,' said Alice:  `--where's the Duchess?'                                                                                                                                                           `Hush!  Hush!' said the Rabbit in a low, hurried tone.  He                                        looked anxiously over his shoulder as he spoke, and then raised                                     himself upon tiptoe, put his mouth close to her ear, and                                            whispered `She's under sentence of execution.'                                                                                                                                                            `What for?' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                                 `Did you say "What a pity!"?' the Rabbit asked.                                                                                                                                                         `No, I didn't,' said Alice:  `I don't think it's at all a pity.                                   I said "What for?"'                                                                                                                                                                                       `She boxed the Queen's ears--' the Rabbit began.  Alice gave a                                    little scream of laughter.  `Oh, hush!' the Rabbit whispered in a                                   frightened tone.  `The Queen will hear you!  You see, she came                                      rather late, and the Queen said--'                                                                                                                                                                        `Get to your places!' shouted the Queen in a voice of thunder,                                    and people began running about in all directions, tumbling up                                       against each other; however, they got settled down in a minute or                                   two, and the game began.  Alice thought she had never seen such a                                   curious croquet-ground in her life; it was all ridges and                                           furrows; the balls were live hedgehogs, the mallets live                                            flamingoes, and the soldiers had to double themselves up and to                                     stand on their hands and feet, to make the arches.                                                                                                                                                        The chief difficulty Alice found at first was in managing her                                     flamingo:  she succeeded in getting its body tucked away,                                           comfortably enough, under her arm, with its legs hanging down,                                      but generally, just as she had got its neck nicely straightened                                     out, and was going to give the hedgehog a blow with its head, it                                    WOULD twist itself round and look up in her face, with such a                                       puzzled expression that she could not help bursting out laughing:                                   and when she had got its head down, and was going to begin again,                                   it was very provoking to find that the hedgehog had unrolled                                        itself, and was in the act of crawling away:  besides all this,                                     there was generally a ridge or furrow in the way wherever she                                       wanted to send the hedgehog to, and, as the doubled-up soldiers                                     were always getting up and walking off to other parts of the                                        ground, Alice soon came to the conclusion that it was a very                                        difficult game indeed.                                                                                                                                                                                    The players all played at once without waiting for turns,                                         quarrelling all the while, and fighting for the hedgehogs; and in                                   a very short time the Queen was in a furious passion, and went                                      stamping about, and shouting `Off with his head!' or `Off with                                      her head!' about once in a minute.                                                                                                                                                                        Alice began to feel very uneasy:  to be sure, she had not as                                      yet had any dispute with the Queen, but she knew that it might                                      happen any minute, `and then,' thought she, `what would become of                                   me?  They're dreadfully fond of beheading people here; the great                                    wonder is, that there's any one left alive!'                                                                                                                                                              She was looking about for some way of escape, and wondering                                       whether she could get away without being seen, when she noticed a                                   curious appearance in the air:  it puzzled her very much at                                         first, but, after watching it a minute or two, she made it out to                                   be a grin, and she said to herself `It's the Cheshire Cat:  now I                                   shall have somebody to talk to.'                                                                                                                                                                          `How are you getting on?' said the Cat, as soon as there was                                      mouth enough for it to speak with.                                                                                                                                                                        Alice waited till the eyes appeared, and then nodded.  `It's no                                   use speaking to it,' she thought, `till its ears have come, or at                                   least one of them.'  In another minute the whole head appeared,                                     and then Alice put down her flamingo, and began an account of the                                   game, feeling very glad she had someone to listen to her.  The                                      Cat seemed to think that there was enough of it now in sight, and                                   no more of it appeared.                                                                                                                                                                                   `I don't think they play at all fairly,' Alice began, in rather                                   a complaining tone, `and they all quarrel so dreadfully one can't                                   hear oneself speak--and they don't seem to have any rules in                                        particular; at least, if there are, nobody attends to them--and                                     you've no idea how confusing it is all the things being alive;                                      for instance, there's the arch I've got to go through next                                          walking about at the other end of the ground--and I should have                                     croqueted the Queen's hedgehog just now, only it ran away when it                                   saw mine coming!'                                                                                                                                                                                         `How do you like the Queen?' said the Cat in a low voice.                                                                                                                                               `Not at all,' said Alice:  `she's so extremely--'  Just then                                      she noticed that the Queen was close behind her, listening:  so                                     she went on, `--likely to win, that it's hardly worth while                                         finishing the game.'                                                                                                                                                                                      The Queen smiled and passed on.                                                                                                                                                                         `Who ARE you talking to?' said the King, going up to Alice, and                                   looking at the Cat's head with great curiosity.                                                                                                                                                           `It's a friend of mine--a Cheshire Cat,' said Alice:  `allow me                                   to introduce it.'                                                                                                                                                                                         `I don't like the look of it at all,' said the King:  `however,                                   it may kiss my hand if it likes.'                                                                                                                                                                         `I'd rather not,' the Cat remarked.                                                                                                                                                                     `Don't be impertinent,' said the King, `and don't look at me                                      like that!'  He got behind Alice as he spoke.                                                                                                                                                             `A cat may look at a king,' said Alice.  `I've read that in                                       some book, but I don't remember where.'                                                                                                                                                                   `Well, it must be removed,' said the King very decidedly, and                                     he called the Queen, who was passing at the moment, `My dear!  I                                    wish you would have this cat removed!'                                                                                                                                                                    The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great                                    or small.  `Off with his head!' she said, without even looking                                      round.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `I'll fetch the executioner myself,' said the King eagerly, and                                   he hurried off.                                                                                                                                                                                           Alice thought she might as well go back, and see how the game                                     was going on, as she heard the Queen's voice in the distance,                                       screaming with passion.  She had already heard her sentence three                                   of the players to be executed for having missed their turns, and                                    she did not like the look of things at all, as the game was in                                      such confusion that she never knew whether it was her turn or                                       not.  So she went in search of her hedgehog.                                                                                                                                                              The hedgehog was engaged in a fight with another hedgehog,                                        which seemed to Alice an excellent opportunity for croqueting one                                   of them with the other:  the only difficulty was, that her                                          flamingo was gone across to the other side of the garden, where                                     Alice could see it trying in a helpless sort of way to fly up                                       into a tree.                                                                                                                                                                                              By the time she had caught the flamingo and brought it back,                                      the fight was over, and both the hedgehogs were out of sight:                                       `but it doesn't matter much,' thought Alice, `as all the arches                                     are gone from this side of the ground.'  So she tucked it away                                      under her arm, that it might not escape again, and went back for                                    a little more conversation with her friend.                                                                                                                                                               When she got back to the Cheshire Cat, she was surprised to                                       find quite a large crowd collected round it:  there was a dispute                                   going on between the executioner, the King, and the Queen, who                                      were all talking at once, while all the rest were quite silent,                                     and looked very uncomfortable.                                                                                                                                                                            The moment Alice appeared, she was appealed to by all three to                                    settle the question, and they repeated their arguments to her,                                      though, as they all spoke at once, she found it very hard indeed                                    to make out exactly what they said.                                                                                                                                                                       The executioner's argument was, that you couldn't cut off a                                       head unless there was a body to cut it off from:  that he had                                       never had to do such a thing before, and he wasn't going to begin                                   at HIS time of life.                                                                                                                                                                                      The King's argument was, that anything that had a head could be                                   beheaded, and that you weren't to talk nonsense.                                                                                                                                                          The Queen's argument was, that if something wasn't done about                                     it in less than no time she'd have everybody executed, all round.                                   (It was this last remark that had made the whole party look so                                      grave and anxious.)                                                                                                                                                                                       Alice could think of nothing else to say but `It belongs to the                                   Duchess:  you'd better ask HER about it.'                                                                                                                                                                 `She's in prison,' the Queen said to the executioner:  `fetch                                     her here.'  And the executioner went off like an arrow.                                                                                                                                                    The Cat's head began fading away the moment he was gone, and,                                    by the time he had come back with the Dutchess, it had entirely                                     disappeared; so the King and the executioner ran wildly up and                                      down looking for it, while the rest of the party went back to the game.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    CHAPTER IX                                                                                                                                                                                        The Mock Turtle's Story                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  `You can't think how glad I am to see you again, you dear old                                     thing!' said the Duchess, as she tucked her arm affectionately                                      into Alice's, and they walked off together.                                                                                                                                                               Alice was very glad to find her in such a pleasant temper, and                                    thought to herself that perhaps it was only the pepper that had                                     made her so savage when they met in the kitchen.                                                                                                                                                          `When I'M a Duchess,' she said to herself, (not in a very                                         hopeful tone though), `I won't have any pepper in my kitchen AT                                     ALL.  Soup does very well without--Maybe it's always pepper that                                    makes people hot-tempered,' she went on, very much pleased at                                       having found out a new kind of rule, `and vinegar that makes them                                   sour--and camomile that makes them bitter--and--and barley-sugar                                    and such things that make children sweet-tempered.  I only wish                                     people knew that:  then they wouldn't be so stingy about it, you                                    know--'                                                                                                                                                                                                   She had quite forgotten the Duchess by this time, and was a                                       little startled when she heard her voice close to her ear.                                          `You're thinking about something, my dear, and that makes you                                       forget to talk.  I can't tell you just now what the moral of that                                   is, but I shall remember it in a bit.'                                                                                                                                                                    `Perhaps it hasn't one,' Alice ventured to remark.                                                                                                                                                      `Tut, tut, child!' said the Duchess.  `Everything's got a                                         moral, if only you can find it.'  And she squeezed herself up                                       closer to Alice's side as she spoke.                                                                                                                                                                      Alice did not much like keeping so close to her:  first,                                          because the Duchess was VERY ugly; and secondly, because she was                                    exactly the right height to rest her chin upon Alice's shoulder,                                    and it was an uncomfortably sharp chin.  However, she did not                                       like to be rude, so she bore it as well as she could.                                                                                                                                                     `The game's going on rather better now,' she said, by way of                                      keeping up the conversation a little.                                                                                                                                                                     `'Tis so,' said the Duchess:  `and the moral of that is--"Oh,                                     'tis love, 'tis love, that makes the world go round!"'                                                                                                                                                    `Somebody said,' Alice whispered, `that it's done by everybody                                    minding their own business!'                                                                                                                                                                              `Ah, well!  It means much the same thing,' said the Duchess,                                      digging her sharp little chin into Alice's shoulder as she added,                                   `and the moral of THAT is--"Take care of the sense, and the                                         sounds will take care of themselves."'                                                                                                                                                                    `How fond she is of finding morals in things!' Alice thought to                                   herself.                                                                                                                                                                                                  `I dare say you're wondering why I don't put my arm round your                                    waist,' the Duchess said after a pause:  `the reason is, that I'm                                   doubtful about the temper of your flamingo.  Shall I try the                                        experiment?'                                                                                                                                                                                              `HE might bite,' Alice cautiously replied, not feeling at all                                     anxious to have the experiment tried.                                                                                                                                                                     `Very true,' said the Duchess:  `flamingoes and mustard both                                      bite.  And the moral of that is--"Birds of a feather flock                                          together."'                                                                                                                                                                                               `Only mustard isn't a bird,' Alice remarked.                                                                                                                                                            `Right, as usual,' said the Duchess:  `what a clear way you                                       have of putting things!'                                                                                                                                                                                  `It's a mineral, I THINK,' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                  `Of course it is,' said the Duchess, who seemed ready to agree                                    to everything that Alice said; `there's a large mustard-mine near                                   here.  And the moral of that is--"The more there is of mine, the                                    less there is of yours."'                                                                                                                                                                                 `Oh, I know!' exclaimed Alice, who had not attended to this                                       last remark, `it's a vegetable.  It doesn't look like one, but it                                   is.'                                                                                                                                                                                                      `I quite agree with you,' said the Duchess; `and the moral of                                     that is--"Be what you would seem to be"--or if you'd like it put                                    more simply--"Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than                                       what it might appear to others that what you were or might have                                     been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared                                   to them to be otherwise."'                                                                                                                                                                                `I think I should understand that better,' Alice said very                                        politely, `if I had it written down:  but I can't quite follow it                                   as you say it.'                                                                                                                                                                                           `That's nothing to what I could say if I chose,' the Duchess                                      replied, in a pleased tone.                                                                                                                                                                               `Pray don't trouble yourself to say it any longer than that,'                                     said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                                               `Oh, don't talk about trouble!' said the Duchess.  `I make you                                    a present of everything I've said as yet.'                                                                                                                                                                `A cheap sort of present!' thought Alice.  `I'm glad they don't                                   give birthday presents like that!'  But she did not venture to                                      say it out loud.                                                                                                                                                                                          `Thinking again?' the Duchess asked, with another dig of her                                      sharp little chin.                                                                                                                                                                                        `I've a right to think,' said Alice sharply, for she was                                          beginning to feel a little worried.                                                                                                                                                                       `Just about as much right,' said the Duchess, `as pigs have to                                    fly; and the m--'                                                                                                                                                                                         But here, to Alice's great surprise, the Duchess's voice died                                     away, even in the middle of her favourite word `moral,' and the                                     arm that was linked into hers began to tremble.  Alice looked up,                                   and there stood the Queen in front of them, with her arms folded,                                   frowning like a thunderstorm.                                                                                                                                                                             `A fine day, your Majesty!' the Duchess began in a low, weak                                      voice.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `Now, I give you fair warning,' shouted the Queen, stamping on                                    the ground as she spoke; `either you or your head must be off,                                      and that in about half no time!  Take your choice!'                                                                                                                                                       The Duchess took her choice, and was gone in a moment.                                                                                                                                                  `Let's go on with the game,' the Queen said to Alice; and Alice                                   was too much frightened to say a word, but slowly followed her                                      back to the croquet-ground.                                                                                                                                                                               The other guests had taken advantage of the Queen's absence,                                      and were resting in the shade:  however, the moment they saw her,                                   they hurried back to the game, the Queen merely remarking that a                                    moment's delay would cost them their lives.                                                                                                                                                               All the time they were playing the Queen never left off                                           quarrelling with the other players, and shouting `Off with his                                      head!' or `Off with her head!'  Those whom she sentenced were                                       taken into custody by the soldiers, who of course had to leave                                      off being arches to do this, so that by the end of half an hour                                     or so there were no arches left, and all the players, except the                                    King, the Queen, and Alice, were in custody and under sentence of                                   execution.                                                                                                                                                                                                Then the Queen left off, quite out of breath, and said to                                         Alice, `Have you seen the Mock Turtle yet?'                                                                                                                                                               `No,' said Alice.  `I don't even know what a Mock Turtle is.'                                                                                                                                           `It's the thing Mock Turtle Soup is made from,' said the Queen.                                                                                                                                         `I never saw one, or heard of one,' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                         `Come on, then,' said the Queen, `and he shall tell you his                                       history,'                                                                                                                                                                                                 As they walked off together, Alice heard the King say in a low                                    voice, to the company generally, `You are all pardoned.'  `Come,                                    THAT'S a good thing!' she said to herself, for she had felt quite                                   unhappy at the number of executions the Queen had ordered.                                                                                                                                                They very soon came upon a Gryphon, lying fast asleep in the                                      sun.  (IF you don't know what a Gryphon is, look at the picture.)                                   `Up, lazy thing!' said the Queen, `and take this young lady to                                      see the Mock Turtle, and to hear his history.  I must go back and                                   see after some executions I have ordered'; and she walked off,                                      leaving Alice alone with the Gryphon.  Alice did not quite like                                     the look of the creature, but on the whole she thought it would                                     be quite as safe to stay with it as to go after that savage                                         Queen:  so she waited.                                                                                                                                                                                    The Gryphon sat up and rubbed its eyes:  then it watched the                                      Queen till she was out of sight:  then it chuckled.  `What fun!'                                    said the Gryphon, half to itself, half to Alice.                                                                                                                                                          `What IS the fun?' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                          `Why, SHE,' said the Gryphon.  `It's all her fancy, that:  they                                   never executes nobody, you know.  Come on!'                                                                                                                                                               `Everybody says "come on!" here,' thought Alice, as she went                                      slowly after it:  `I never was so ordered about in all my life,                                     never!'                                                                                                                                                                                                   They had not gone far before they saw the Mock Turtle in the                                      distance, sitting sad and lonely on a little ledge of rock, and,                                    as they came nearer, Alice could hear him sighing as if his heart                                   would break.  She pitied him deeply.  `What is his sorrow?' she                                     asked the Gryphon, and the Gryphon answered, very nearly in the                                     same words as before, `It's all his fancy, that:  he hasn't got                                     no sorrow, you know.  Come on!'                                                                                                                                                                           So they went up to the Mock Turtle, who looked at them with                                       large eyes full of tears, but said nothing.                                                                                                                                                               `This here young lady,' said the Gryphon, `she wants for to                                       know your history, she do.'                                                                                                                                                                               `I'll tell it her,' said the Mock Turtle in a deep, hollow                                        tone:  `sit down, both of you, and don't speak a word till I've                                     finished.'                                                                                                                                                                                                So they sat down, and nobody spoke for some minutes.  Alice                                       thought to herself, `I don't see how he can EVEN finish, if he                                      doesn't begin.'  But she waited patiently.                                                                                                                                                                `Once,' said the Mock Turtle at last, with a deep sigh, `I was                                    a real Turtle.'                                                                                                                                                                                           These words were followed by a very long silence, broken only                                     by an occasional exclamation of `Hjckrrh!' from the Gryphon, and                                    the constant heavy sobbing of the Mock Turtle.  Alice was very                                      nearly getting up and saying, `Thank you, sir, for your                                             interesting story,' but she could not help thinking there MUST be                                   more to come, so she sat still and said nothing.                                                                                                                                                          `When we were little,' the Mock Turtle went on at last, more                                      calmly, though still sobbing a little now and then, `we went to                                     school in the sea.  The master was an old Turtle--we used to call                                   him Tortoise--'                                                                                                                                                                                           `Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn't one?' Alice asked.                                                                                                                                         `We called him Tortoise because he taught us,' said the Mock                                      Turtle angrily:  `really you are very dull!'                                                                                                                                                              `You ought to be ashamed of yourself for asking such a simple                                     question,' added the Gryphon; and then they both sat silent and                                     looked at poor Alice, who felt ready to sink into the earth.  At                                    last the Gryphon said to the Mock Turtle, `Drive on, old fellow!                                    Don't be all day about it!' and he went on in these words:                                                                                                                                                `Yes, we went to school in the sea, though you mayn't believe                                     it--'                                                                                                                                                                                                     `I never said I didn't!' interrupted Alice.                                                                                                                                                             `You did,' said the Mock Turtle.                                                                                                                                                                        `Hold your tongue!' added the Gryphon, before Alice could speak                                   again.  The Mock Turtle went on.                                                                                                                                                                          `We had the best of educations--in fact, we went to school                                        every day--'                                                                                                                                                                                              `I'VE been to a day-school, too,' said Alice; `you needn't be                                     so proud as all that.'                                                                                                                                                                                    `With extras?' asked the Mock Turtle a little anxiously.                                                                                                                                                `Yes,' said Alice, `we learned French and music.'                                                                                                                                                       `And washing?' said the Mock Turtle.                                                                                                                                                                    `Certainly not!' said Alice indignantly.                                                                                                                                                                `Ah! then yours wasn't a really good school,' said the Mock                                       Turtle in a tone of great relief.  `Now at OURS they had at the                                     end of the bill, "French, music, AND WASHING--extra."'                                                                                                                                                    `You couldn't have wanted it much,' said Alice; `living at the                                    bottom of the sea.'                                                                                                                                                                                       `I couldn't afford to learn it.' said the Mock Turtle with a                                      sigh.  `I only took the regular course.'                                                                                                                                                                  `What was that?' inquired Alice.                                                                                                                                                                        `Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,' the Mock                                        Turtle replied; `and then the different branches of Arithmetic--                                    Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.'                                                                                                                                                       `I never heard of "Uglification,"' Alice ventured to say.  `What                                  is it?'                                                                                                                                                                                                   The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise.  `What!  Never                                   heard of uglifying!' it exclaimed.  `You know what to beautify                                      is, I suppose?'                                                                                                                                                                                           `Yes,' said Alice doubtfully:  `it means--to--make--anything--                                    prettier.'                                                                                                                                                                                                `Well, then,' the Gryphon went on, `if you don't know what to                                     uglify is, you ARE a simpleton.'                                                                                                                                                                          Alice did not feel encouraged to ask any more questions about                                     it, so she turned to the Mock Turtle, and said `What else had you                                   to learn?'                                                                                                                                                                                                `Well, there was Mystery,' the Mock Turtle replied, counting                                      off the subjects on his flappers, `--Mystery, ancient and modern,                                   with Seaography:  then Drawling--the Drawling-master was an old                                     conger-eel, that used to come once a week:  HE taught us                                            Drawling, Stretching, and Fainting in Coils.'                                                                                                                                                             `What was THAT like?' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                       `Well, I can't show it you myself,' the Mock Turtle said:  `I'm                                   too stiff.  And the Gryphon never learnt it.'                                                                                                                                                             `Hadn't time,' said the Gryphon:  `I went to the Classics                                         master, though.  He was an old crab, HE was.'                                                                                                                                                             `I never went to him,' the Mock Turtle said with a sigh:  `he                                     taught Laughing and Grief, they used to say.'                                                                                                                                                             `So he did, so he did,' said the Gryphon, sighing in his turn;                                    and both creatures hid their faces in their paws.                                                                                                                                                         `And how many hours a day did you do lessons?' said Alice, in a                                   hurry to change the subject.                                                                                                                                                                              `Ten hours the first day,' said the Mock Turtle: `nine the                                        next, and so on.'                                                                                                                                                                                         `What a curious plan!' exclaimed Alice.                                                                                                                                                                 `That's the reason they're called lessons,' the Gryphon                                           remarked:  `because they lessen from day to day.'                                                                                                                                                         This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought it over a                                     little before she made her next remark.  `Then the eleventh day                                     must have been a holiday?'                                                                                                                                                                                `Of course it was,' said the Mock Turtle.                                                                                                                                                               `And how did you manage on the twelfth?' Alice went on eagerly.                                                                                                                                         `That's enough about lessons,' the Gryphon interrupted in a                                       very decided tone:  `tell her something about the games now.'                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               CHAPTER X                                                                                                                                                                                         The Lobster Quadrille                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and drew the back of one flapper                                   across his eyes.  He looked at Alice, and tried to speak, but for                                   a minute or two sobs choked his voice.  `Same as if he had a bone                                   in his throat,' said the Gryphon:  and it set to work shaking him                                   and punching him in the back.  At last the Mock Turtle recovered                                    his voice, and, with tears running down his cheeks, he went on                                      again:--                                                                                                                                                                                                  `You may not have lived much under the sea--' (`I haven't,'                                       said Alice)--`and perhaps you were never even introduced to a lobster--'                            (Alice began to say `I once tasted--' but checked herself hastily,                                  and said `No, never') `--so you can have no idea what a delightful                                  thing a Lobster Quadrille is!'                                                                                                                                                                            `No, indeed,' said Alice.  `What sort of a dance is it?'                                                                                                                                                `Why,' said the Gryphon, `you first form into a line along the                                    sea-shore--'                                                                                                                                                                                              `Two lines!' cried the Mock Turtle.  `Seals, turtles, salmon,                                     and so on; then, when you've cleared all the jelly-fish out of                                      the way--'                                                                                                                                                                                                `THAT generally takes some time,' interrupted the Gryphon.                                                                                                                                              `--you advance twice--'                                                                                                                                                                                 `Each with a lobster as a partner!' cried the Gryphon.                                                                                                                                                  `Of course,' the Mock Turtle said:  `advance twice, set to                                        partners--'                                                                                                                                                                                               `--change lobsters, and retire in same order,' continued the                                      Gryphon.                                                                                                                                                                                                  `Then, you know,' the Mock Turtle went on, `you throw the--'                                                                                                                                            `The lobsters!' shouted the Gryphon, with a bound into the air.                                                                                                                                         `--as far out to sea as you can--'                                                                                                                                                                      `Swim after them!' screamed the Gryphon.                                                                                                                                                                `Turn a somersault in the sea!' cried the Mock Turtle,                                            capering wildly about.                                                                                                                                                                                    `Back to land again, and that's all the first figure,' said the                                   Mock Turtle, suddenly dropping his voice; and the two creatures,                                    who had been jumping about like mad things all this time, sat                                       down again very sadly and quietly, and looked at Alice.                                                                                                                                                   `It must be a very pretty dance,' said Alice timidly.                                                                                                                                                   `Would you like to see a little of it?' said the Mock Turtle.                                                                                                                                           `Very much indeed,' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                         `Come, let's try the first figure!' said the Mock Turtle to the                                   Gryphon.  `We can do without lobsters, you know.  Which shall                                       sing?'                                                                                                                                                                                                    `Oh, YOU sing,' said the Gryphon.  `I've forgotten the words.'                                                                                                                                          So they began solemnly dancing round and round Alice, every now                                   and then treading on her toes when they passed too close, and                                       waving their forepaws to mark the time, while the Mock Turtle                                       sang this, very slowly and sadly:--                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         `"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail.                                        "There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my                                         tail.                                                                                              See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!                                           They are waiting on the shingle--will you come and join the                                         dance?                                                                                                                                                                                                  Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the                                         dance?                                                                                              Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the                                        dance?                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      "You can really have no notion how delightful it will be                                            When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to                                                                                              sea!"                                         But the snail replied "Too far, too far!" and gave a look                                                                                                  askance--                                    Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the                                          dance.                                                                                               Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join                                              the dance.                                                                                      Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join                                              the dance.                                                                                                                                                                                      `"What matters it how far we go?" his scaly friend replied.                                         "There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.                                             The further off from England the nearer is to France--                                              Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.                                                                                                                                             Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the                                              dance?                                                                                         Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the                                             dance?"'                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 `Thank you, it's a very interesting dance to watch,' said                                         Alice, feeling very glad that it was over at last:  `and I do so                                    like that curious song about the whiting!'                                                                                                                                                                `Oh, as to the whiting,' said the Mock Turtle, `they--you've                                      seen them, of course?'                                                                                                                                                                                    `Yes,' said Alice, `I've often seen them at dinn--' she                                           checked herself hastily.                                                                                                                                                                                  `I don't know where Dinn may be,' said the Mock Turtle, `but                                      if you've seen them so often, of course you know what they're                                       like.'                                                                                                                                                                                                    `I believe so,' Alice replied thoughtfully.  `They have their                                     tails in their mouths--and they're all over crumbs.'                                                                                                                                                      `You're wrong about the crumbs,' said the Mock Turtle:                                            `crumbs would all wash off in the sea.  But they HAVE their tails                                   in their mouths; and the reason is--' here the Mock Turtle                                          yawned and shut his eyes.--`Tell her about the reason and all                                       that,' he said to the Gryphon.                                                                                                                                                                            `The reason is,' said the Gryphon, `that they WOULD go with                                       the lobsters to the dance.  So they got thrown out to sea.  So                                      they had to fall a long way.  So they got their tails fast in                                       their mouths.  So they couldn't get them out again.  That's all.'                                                                                                                                         `Thank you,' said Alice, `it's very interesting.  I never knew                                    so much about a whiting before.'                                                                                                                                                                          `I can tell you more than that, if you like,' said the                                            Gryphon.  `Do you know why it's called a whiting?'                                                                                                                                                        `I never thought about it,' said Alice.  `Why?'                                                                                                                                                         `IT DOES THE BOOTS AND SHOES.' the Gryphon replied very                                           solemnly.                                                                                                                                                                                                 Alice was thoroughly puzzled.  `Does the boots and shoes!' she                                    repeated in a wondering tone.                                                                                                                                                                             `Why, what are YOUR shoes done with?' said the Gryphon.  `I                                       mean, what makes them so shiny?'                                                                                                                                                                          Alice looked down at them, and considered a little before she                                     gave her answer.  `They're done with blacking, I believe.'                                                                                                                                                `Boots and shoes under the sea,' the Gryphon went on in a deep                                    voice, `are done with a whiting.  Now you know.'                                                                                                                                                          `And what are they made of?' Alice asked in a tone of great                                       curiosity.                                                                                                                                                                                                `Soles and eels, of course,' the Gryphon replied rather                                           impatiently:  `any shrimp could have told you that.'                                                                                                                                                      `If I'd been the whiting,' said Alice, whose thoughts were                                        still running on the song, `I'd have said to the porpoise, "Keep                                    back, please:  we don't want YOU with us!"'                                                                                                                                                               `They were obliged to have him with them,' the Mock Turtle                                        said:  `no wise fish would go anywhere without a porpoise.'                                                                                                                                               `Wouldn't it really?' said Alice in a tone of great surprise.                                                                                                                                           `Of course not,' said the Mock Turtle:  `why, if a fish came                                      to ME, and told me he was going a journey, I should say "With                                       what porpoise?"'                                                                                                                                                                                          `Don't you mean "purpose"?' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                 `I mean what I say,' the Mock Turtle replied in an offended                                       tone.  And the Gryphon added `Come, let's hear some of YOUR                                         adventures.'                                                                                                                                                                                              `I could tell you my adventures--beginning from this morning,'                                    said Alice a little timidly:  `but it's no use going back to                                        yesterday, because I was a different person then.'                                                                                                                                                        `Explain all that,' said the Mock Turtle.                                                                                                                                                               `No, no!  The adventures first,' said the Gryphon in an                                           impatient tone:  `explanations take such a dreadful time.'                                                                                                                                                So Alice began telling them her adventures from the time when                                     she first saw the White Rabbit.  She was a little nervous about                                     it just at first, the two creatures got so close to her, one on                                     each side, and opened their eyes and mouths so VERY wide, but she                                   gained courage as she went on.  Her listeners were perfectly                                        quiet till she got to the part about her repeating `YOU ARE OLD,                                    FATHER WILLIAM,' to the Caterpillar, and the words all coming                                       different, and then the Mock Turtle drew a long breath, and said                                    `That's very curious.'                                                                                                                                                                                    `It's all about as curious as it can be,' said the Gryphon.                                                                                                                                             `It all came different!' the Mock Turtle repeated                                                 thoughtfully.  `I should like to hear her try and repeat                                            something now.  Tell her to begin.'  He looked at the Gryphon as                                    if he thought it had some kind of authority over Alice.                                                                                                                                                   `Stand up and repeat "'TIS THE VOICE OF THE SLUGGARD,"' said                                      the Gryphon.                                                                                                                                                                                              `How the creatures order one about, and make one repeat                                           lessons!' thought Alice; `I might as well be at school at once.'                                    However, she got up, and began to repeat it, but her head was so                                    full of the Lobster Quadrille, that she hardly knew what she was                                    saying, and the words came very queer indeed:--                                                                                                                                                             `'Tis the voice of the Lobster; I heard him declare,                                                "You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair."                                                As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose                                                     Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.'                                                                                                                                                          [later editions continued as follows                                                      When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,                                                    And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark,                                                   But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,                                                     His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.]                                                                                                                                                           `That's different from what I used to say when I was a child,'                                    said the Gryphon.                                                                                                                                                                                         `Well, I never heard it before,' said the Mock Turtle; `but it                                    sounds uncommon nonsense.'                                                                                                                                                                                Alice said nothing; she had sat down with her face in her                                         hands, wondering if anything would EVER happen in a natural way                                     again.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `I should like to have it explained,' said the Mock Turtle.                                                                                                                                             `She can't explain it,' said the Gryphon hastily.  `Go on with                                    the next verse.'                                                                                                                                                                                          `But about his toes?' the Mock Turtle persisted.  `How COULD                                      he turn them out with his nose, you know?'                                                                                                                                                                `It's the first position in dancing.' Alice said; but was                                         dreadfully puzzled by the whole thing, and longed to change the                                     subject.                                                                                                                                                                                                  `Go on with the next verse,' the Gryphon repeated impatiently:                                    `it begins "I passed by his garden."'                                                                                                                                                                     Alice did not dare to disobey, though she felt sure it would                                      all come wrong, and she went on in a trembling voice:--                                                                                                                                                     `I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye,                                                  How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie--'                                                                                                                                                           [later editions continued as follows                                                            The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat,                                                    While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat.                                               When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon,                                                  Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon:                                                           While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl,                                             And concluded the banquet--]                                                                                                                                                                          `What IS the use of repeating all that stuff,' the Mock Turtle                                    interrupted, `if you don't explain it as you go on?  It's by far                                    the most confusing thing I ever heard!'                                                                                                                                                                   `Yes, I think you'd better leave off,' said the Gryphon:  and                                     Alice was only too glad to do so.                                                                                                                                                                         `Shall we try another figure of the Lobster Quadrille?' the                                       Gryphon went on.  `Or would you like the Mock Turtle to sing you                                    a song?'                                                                                                                                                                                                  `Oh, a song, please, if the Mock Turtle would be so kind,'                                        Alice replied, so eagerly that the Gryphon said, in a rather                                        offended tone, `Hm! No accounting for tastes!  Sing her "Turtle                                     Soup," will you, old fellow?'                                                                                                                                                                             The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and began, in a voice sometimes                                    choked with sobs, to sing this:--                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               `Beautiful Soup, so rich and green,                                                                 Waiting in a hot tureen!                                                                            Who for such dainties would not stoop?                                                              Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!                                                                Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!                                                                    Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!                                                                             Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!                                                                         Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,                                                                          Beautiful, beautiful Soup!                                                                                                                                                                          `Beautiful Soup!  Who cares for fish,                                                               Game, or any other dish?                                                                            Who would not give all else for two p                                                               ennyworth only of beautiful Soup?                                                                   Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?                                                                      Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!                                                                             Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!                                                                         Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,                                                                          Beautiful, beauti--FUL SOUP!'                                                                                                                                                                     `Chorus again!' cried the Gryphon, and the Mock Turtle had                                        just begun to repeat it, when a cry of `The trial's beginning!'                                     was heard in the distance.                                                                                                                                                                                `Come on!' cried the Gryphon, and, taking Alice by the hand,                                      it hurried off, without waiting for the end of the song.                                                                                                                                                  `What trial is it?' Alice panted as she ran; but the Gryphon                                      only answered `Come on!' and ran the faster, while more and more                                    faintly came, carried on the breeze that followed them, the                                         melancholy words:--                                                                                                                                                                                         `Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,                                                                         Beautiful, beautiful Soup!'                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        CHAPTER XI                                                                                                                                                                                         Who Stole the Tarts?                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when                                     they arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them--all sorts                                    of little birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards:                                     the Knave was standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on                                    each side to guard him; and near the King was the White Rabbit,                                     with a trumpet in one hand, and a scroll of parchment in the                                        other.  In the very middle of the court was a table, with a large                                   dish of tarts upon it:  they looked so good, that it made Alice                                     quite hungry to look at them--`I wish they'd get the trial done,'                                   she thought, `and hand round the refreshments!'  But there seemed                                   to be no chance of this, so she began looking at everything about                                   her, to pass away the time.                                                                                                                                                                               Alice had never been in a court of justice before, but she had                                    read about them in books, and she was quite pleased to find that                                    she knew the name of nearly everything there.  `That's the                                          judge,' she said to herself, `because of his great wig.'                                                                                                                                                  The judge, by the way, was the King; and as he wore his crown                                     over the wig, (look at the frontispiece if you want to see how he                                   did it,) he did not look at all comfortable, and it was certainly                                   not becoming.                                                                                                                                                                                             `And that's the jury-box,' thought Alice, `and those twelve                                       creatures,' (she was obliged to say `creatures,' you see, because                                   some of them were animals, and some were birds,) `I suppose they                                    are the jurors.'  She said this last word two or three times over                                   to herself, being rather proud of it:  for she thought, and                                         rightly too, that very few little girls of her age knew the                                         meaning of it at all.  However, `jury-men' would have done just                                     as well.                                                                                                                                                                                                  The twelve jurors were all writing very busily on slates.                                         `What are they doing?'  Alice whispered to the Gryphon.  `They                                      can't have anything to put down yet, before the trial's begun.'                                                                                                                                           `They're putting down their names,' the Gryphon whispered in                                      reply, `for fear they should forget them before the end of the                                      trial.'                                                                                                                                                                                                   `Stupid things!' Alice began in a loud, indignant voice, but                                      she stopped hastily, for the White Rabbit cried out, `Silence in                                    the court!' and the King put on his spectacles and looked                                           anxiously round, to make out who was talking.                                                                                                                                                             Alice could see, as well as if she were looking over their                                        shoulders, that all the jurors were writing down `stupid things!'                                   on their slates, and she could even make out that one of them                                       didn't know how to spell `stupid,' and that he had to ask his                                       neighbour to tell him.  `A nice muddle their slates'll be in                                        before the trial's over!' thought Alice.                                                                                                                                                                  One of the jurors had a pencil that squeaked.  This of course,                                    Alice could not stand, and she went round the court and got                                         behind him, and very soon found an opportunity of taking it                                         away.  She did it so quickly that the poor little juror (it was                                     Bill, the Lizard) could not make out at all what had become of                                      it; so, after hunting all about for it, he was obliged to write                                     with one finger for the rest of the day; and this was of very                                       little use, as it left no mark on the slate.                                                                                                                                                              `Herald, read the accusation!' said the King.                                                                                                                                                           On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and                                    then unrolled the parchment scroll, and read as follows:--                                                                                                                                                  `The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts,                                                                All on a summer day:                                                                            The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts,                                                              And took them quite away!'                                                                                                                                                                      `Consider your verdict,' the King said to the jury.                                                                                                                                                     `Not yet, not yet!' the Rabbit hastily interrupted.  `There's                                     a great deal to come before that!'                                                                                                                                                                        `Call the first witness,' said the King; and the White Rabbit                                     blew three blasts on the trumpet, and called out, `First                                            witness!'                                                                                                                                                                                                 The first witness was the Hatter.  He came in with a teacup in                                    one hand and a piece of bread-and-butter in the other.  `I beg                                      pardon, your Majesty,' he began, `for bringing these in:  but I                                     hadn't quite finished my tea when I was sent for.'                                                                                                                                                        `You ought to have finished,' said the King.  `When did you                                       begin?'                                                                                                                                                                                                   The Hatter looked at the March Hare, who had followed him into                                    the court, arm-in-arm with the Dormouse.  `Fourteenth of March, I                                   think it was,' he said.                                                                                                                                                                                   `Fifteenth,' said the March Hare.                                                                                                                                                                       `Sixteenth,' added the Dormouse.                                                                                                                                                                        `Write that down,' the King said to the jury, and the jury                                        eagerly wrote down all three dates on their slates, and then                                        added them up, and reduced the answer to shillings and pence.                                                                                                                                             `Take off your hat,' the King said to the Hatter.                                                                                                                                                       `It isn't mine,' said the Hatter.                                                                                                                                                                       `Stolen!' the King exclaimed, turning to the jury, who                                            instantly made a memorandum of the fact.                                                                                                                                                                  `I keep them to sell,' the Hatter added as an explanation;                                        `I've none of my own.  I'm a hatter.'                                                                                                                                                                     Here the Queen put on her spectacles, and began staring at the                                    Hatter, who turned pale and fidgeted.                                                                                                                                                                     `Give your evidence,' said the King; `and don't be nervous, or                                    I'll have you executed on the spot.'                                                                                                                                                                      This did not seem to encourage the witness at all:  he kept                                       shifting from one foot to the other, looking uneasily at the                                        Queen, and in his confusion he bit a large piece out of his                                         teacup instead of the bread-and-butter.                                                                                                                                                                   Just at this moment Alice felt a very curious sensation, which                                    puzzled her a good deal until she made out what it was:  she was                                    beginning to grow larger again, and she thought at first she                                        would get up and leave the court; but on second thoughts she                                        decided to remain where she was as long as there was room for                                       her.                                                                                                                                                                                                      `I wish you wouldn't squeeze so.' said the Dormouse, who was                                      sitting next to her.  `I can hardly breathe.'                                                                                                                                                             `I can't help it,' said Alice very meekly:  `I'm growing.'                                                                                                                                              `You've no right to grow here,' said the Dormouse.                                                                                                                                                      `Don't talk nonsense,' said Alice more boldly:  `you know                                         you're growing too.'                                                                                                                                                                                      `Yes, but I grow at a reasonable pace,' said the Dormouse:                                        `not in that ridiculous fashion.'  And he got up very sulkily                                       and crossed over to the other side of the court.                                                                                                                                                          All this time the Queen had never left off staring at the                                         Hatter, and, just as the Dormouse crossed the court, she said to                                    one of the officers of the court, `Bring me the list of the                                         singers in the last concert!' on which the wretched Hatter                                          trembled so, that he shook both his shoes off.                                                                                                                                                            `Give your evidence,' the King repeated angrily, `or I'll have                                    you executed, whether you're nervous or not.'                                                                                                                                                             `I'm a poor man, your Majesty,' the Hatter began, in a                                            trembling voice, `--and I hadn't begun my tea--not above a week                                     or so--and what with the bread-and-butter getting so thin--and                                      the twinkling of the tea--'                                                                                                                                                                               `The twinkling of the what?' said the King.                                                                                                                                                             `It began with the tea,' the Hatter replied.                                                                                                                                                            `Of course twinkling begins with a T!' said the King sharply.                                     `Do you take me for a dunce?  Go on!'                                                                                                                                                                     `I'm a poor man,' the Hatter went on, `and most things                                            twinkled after that--only the March Hare said--'                                                                                                                                                          `I didn't!' the March Hare interrupted in a great hurry.                                                                                                                                                `You did!' said the Hatter.                                                                                                                                                                             `I deny it!' said the March Hare.                                                                                                                                                                       `He denies it,' said the King:  `leave out that part.'                                                                                                                                                  `Well, at any rate, the Dormouse said--' the Hatter went on,                                      looking anxiously round to see if he would deny it too:  but the                                    Dormouse denied nothing, being fast asleep.                                                                                                                                                               `After that,' continued the Hatter, `I cut some more bread-                                       and-butter--'                                                                                                                                                                                             `But what did the Dormouse say?' one of the jury asked.                                                                                                                                                 `That I can't remember,' said the Hatter.                                                                                                                                                               `You MUST remember,' remarked the King, `or I'll have you                                         executed.'                                                                                                                                                                                                The miserable Hatter dropped his teacup and bread-and-butter,                                     and went down on one knee.  `I'm a poor man, your Majesty,' he                                      began.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `You're a very poor speaker,' said the King.                                                                                                                                                            Here one of the guinea-pigs cheered, and was immediately                                          suppressed by the officers of the court.  (As that is rather a                                      hard word, I will just explain to you how it was done.  They had                                    a large canvas bag, which tied up at the mouth with strings:                                        into this they slipped the guinea-pig, head first, and then sat                                     upon it.)                                                                                                                                                                                                 `I'm glad I've seen that done,' thought Alice.  `I've so often                                    read in the newspapers, at the end of trials, "There was some                                       attempts at applause, which was immediately suppressed by the                                       officers of the court," and I never understood what it meant                                        till now.'                                                                                                                                                                                                `If that's all you know about it, you may stand down,'                                            continued the King.                                                                                                                                                                                       `I can't go no lower,' said the Hatter:  `I'm on the floor, as                                    it is.'                                                                                                                                                                                                   `Then you may SIT down,' the King replied.                                                                                                                                                              Here the other guinea-pig cheered, and was suppressed.                                                                                                                                                  `Come, that finished the guinea-pigs!' thought Alice.  `Now we                                    shall get on better.'                                                                                                                                                                                     `I'd rather finish my tea,' said the Hatter, with an anxious                                      look at the Queen, who was reading the list of singers.                                                                                                                                                   `You may go,' said the King, and the Hatter hurriedly left the                                    court, without even waiting to put his shoes on.                                                                                                                                                          `--and just take his head off outside,' the Queen added to one                                    of the officers:  but the Hatter was out of sight before the                                        officer could get to the door.                                                                                                                                                                            `Call the next witness!' said the King.                                                                                                                                                                 The next witness was the Duchess's cook.  She carried the                                         pepper-box in her hand, and Alice guessed who it was, even before                                   she got into the court, by the way the people near the door began                                   sneezing all at once.                                                                                                                                                                                     `Give your evidence,' said the King.                                                                                                                                                                    `Shan't,' said the cook.                                                                                                                                                                                The King looked anxiously at the White Rabbit, who said in a                                      low voice, `Your Majesty must cross-examine THIS witness.'                                                                                                                                                `Well, if I must, I must,' the King said, with a melancholy                                       air, and, after folding his arms and frowning at the cook till                                      his eyes were nearly out of sight, he said in a deep voice, `What                                   are tarts made of?'                                                                                                                                                                                       `Pepper, mostly,' said the cook.                                                                                                                                                                        `Treacle,' said a sleepy voice behind her.                                                                                                                                                              `Collar that Dormouse,' the Queen shrieked out.  `Behead that                                     Dormouse!  Turn that Dormouse out of court!  Suppress him!  Pinch                                   him!  Off with his whiskers!'                                                                                                                                                                             For some minutes the whole court was in confusion, getting the                                    Dormouse turned out, and, by the time they had settled down                                         again, the cook had disappeared.                                                                                                                                                                          `Never mind!' said the King, with an air of great relief.                                         `Call the next witness.'  And he added in an undertone to the                                       Queen, `Really, my dear, YOU must cross-examine the next witness.                                   It quite makes my forehead ache!'                                                                                                                                                                         Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over the list,                                       feeling very curious to see what the next witness would be like,                                    `--for they haven't got much evidence YET,' she said to herself.                                    Imagine her surprise, when the White Rabbit read out, at the top                                    of his shrill little voice, the name `Alice!'                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              CHAPTER XII                                                                                                                                                                                          Alice's Evidence                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      `Here!' cried Alice, quite forgetting in the flurry of the                                        moment how large she had grown in the last few minutes, and she                                     jumped up in such a hurry that she tipped over the jury-box with                                    the edge of her skirt, upsetting all the jurymen on to the heads                                    of the crowd below, and there they lay sprawling about, reminding                                   her very much of a globe of goldfish she had accidentally upset                                     the week before.                                                                                                                                                                                          `Oh, I BEG your pardon!' she exclaimed in a tone of great                                         dismay, and began picking them up again as quickly as she could,                                    for the accident of the goldfish kept running in her head, and                                      she had a vague sort of idea that they must be collected at once                                    and put back into the jury-box, or they would die.                                                                                                                                                        `The trial cannot proceed,' said the King in a very grave                                         voice, `until all the jurymen are back in their proper places--                                     ALL,' he repeated with great emphasis, looking hard at Alice as                                     he said do.                                                                                                                                                                                               Alice looked at the jury-box, and saw that, in her haste, she                                     had put the Lizard in head downwards, and the poor little thing                                     was waving its tail about in a melancholy way, being quite unable                                   to move.  She soon got it out again, and put it right; `not that                                    it signifies much,' she said to herself; `I should think it                                         would be QUITE as much use in the trial one way up as the other.'                                                                                                                                         As soon as the jury had a little recovered from the shock of                                      being upset, and their slates and pencils had been found and                                        handed back to them, they set to work very diligently to write                                      out a history of the accident, all except the Lizard, who seemed                                    too much overcome to do anything but sit with its mouth open,                                       gazing up into the roof of the court.                                                                                                                                                                     `What do you know about this business?' the King said to                                          Alice.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `Nothing,' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                                  `Nothing WHATEVER?' persisted the King.                                                                                                                                                                 `Nothing whatever,' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                         `That's very important,' the King said, turning to the jury.                                      They were just beginning to write this down on their slates, when                                   the White Rabbit interrupted:  `UNimportant, your Majesty means,                                    of course,' he said in a very respectful tone, but frowning and                                     making faces at him as he spoke.                                                                                                                                                                          `UNimportant, of course, I meant,' the King hastily said, and                                     went on to himself in an undertone, `important--unimportant--                                       unimportant--important--' as if he were trying which word                                           sounded best.                                                                                                                                                                                             Some of the jury wrote it down `important,' and some                                              `unimportant.'  Alice could see this, as she was near enough to                                     look over their slates; `but it doesn't matter a bit,' she                                          thought to herself.                                                                                                                                                                                       At this moment the King, who had been for some time busily                                        writing in his note-book, cackled out `Silence!' and read out                                       from his book, `Rule Forty-two.  ALL PERSONS MORE THAN A MILE                                       HIGH TO LEAVE THE COURT.'                                                                                                                                                                                 Everybody looked at Alice.                                                                                                                                                                              `I'M not a mile high,' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                      `You are,' said the King.                                                                                                                                                                               `Nearly two miles high,' added the Queen.                                                                                                                                                               `Well, I shan't go, at any rate,' said Alice:  `besides,                                          that's not a regular rule:  you invented it just now.'                                                                                                                                                    `It's the oldest rule in the book,' said the King.                                                                                                                                                      `Then it ought to be Number One,' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                           The King turned pale, and shut his note-book hastily.                                             `Consider your verdict,' he said to the jury, in a low, trembling                                   voice.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `There's more evidence to come yet, please your Majesty,' said                                    the White Rabbit, jumping up in a great hurry; `this paper has                                      just been picked up.'                                                                                                                                                                                     `What's in it?' said the Queen.                                                                                                                                                                         `I haven't opened it yet,' said the White Rabbit, `but it seems                                   to be a letter, written by the prisoner to--to somebody.'                                                                                                                                                 `It must have been that,' said the King, `unless it was                                           written to nobody, which isn't usual, you know.'                                                                                                                                                          `Who is it directed to?' said one of the jurymen.                                                                                                                                                       `It isn't directed at all,' said the White Rabbit; `in fact,                                      there's nothing written on the OUTSIDE.'  He unfolded the paper                                     as he spoke, and added `It isn't a letter, after all:  it's a set                                   of verses.'                                                                                                                                                                                               `Are they in the prisoner's handwriting?' asked another of                                        they jurymen.                                                                                                                                                                                             `No, they're not,' said the White Rabbit, `and that's the                                         queerest thing about it.'  (The jury all looked puzzled.)                                                                                                                                                 `He must have imitated somebody else's hand,' said the King.                                      (The jury all brightened up again.)                                                                                                                                                                       `Please your Majesty,' said the Knave, `I didn't write it, and                                    they can't prove I did:  there's no name signed at the end.'                                                                                                                                              `If you didn't sign it,' said the King, `that only makes the                                      matter worse.  You MUST have meant some mischief, or else you'd                                     have signed your name like an honest man.'                                                                                                                                                                There was a general clapping of hands at this:  it was the                                        first really clever thing the King had said that day.                                                                                                                                                     `That PROVES his guilt,' said the Queen.                                                                                                                                                                `It proves nothing of the sort!' said Alice.  `Why, you don't                                     even know what they're about!'                                                                                                                                                                            `Read them,' said the King.                                                                                                                                                                             The White Rabbit put on his spectacles.  `Where shall I begin,                                    please your Majesty?' he asked.                                                                                                                                                                           `Begin at the beginning,' the King said gravely, `and go on                                       till you come to the end:  then stop.'                                                                                                                                                                    These were the verses the White Rabbit read:--                                                                                                                                                                `They told me you had been to her,                                                                    And mentioned me to him:                                                                          She gave me a good character,                                                                         But said I could not swim.                                                                                                                                                                            He sent them word I had not gone                                                                      (We know it to be true):                                                                          If she should push the matter on,                                                                     What would become of you?                                                                                                                                                                             I gave her one, they gave him two,                                                                    You gave us three or more;                                                                        They all returned from him to you,                                                                    Though they were mine before.                                                                                                                                                                         If I or she should chance to be                                                                       Involved in this affair,                                                                          He trusts to you to set them free,                                                                    Exactly as we were.                                                                                                                                                                                   My notion was that you had been                                                                       (Before she had this fit)                                                                         An obstacle that came between                                                                         Him, and ourselves, and it.                                                                                                                                                                           Don't let him know she liked them best,                                                               For this must ever be                                                                             A secret, kept from all the rest,                                                                     Between yourself and me.'                                                                                                                                                                       `That's the most important piece of evidence we've heard yet,'                                    said the King, rubbing his hands; `so now let the jury--'                                                                                                                                                 `If any one of them can explain it,' said Alice, (she had                                         grown so large in the last few minutes that she wasn't a bit                                        afraid of interrupting him,) `I'll give him sixpence.  _I_ don't                                    believe there's an atom of meaning in it.'                                                                                                                                                                The jury all wrote down on their slates, `SHE doesn't believe                                     there's an atom of meaning in it,' but none of them attempted to                                    explain the paper.                                                                                                                                                                                        `If there's no meaning in it,' said the King, `that saves a                                       world of trouble, you know, as we needn't try to find any.  And                                     yet I don't know,' he went on, spreading out the verses on his                                      knee, and looking at them with one eye; `I seem to see some                                         meaning in them, after all.  "--SAID I COULD NOT SWIM--" you                                        can't swim, can you?' he added, turning to the Knave.                                                                                                                                                     The Knave shook his head sadly.  `Do I look like it?' he said.                                    (Which he certainly did NOT, being made entirely of cardboard.)                                                                                                                                           `All right, so far,' said the King, and he went on muttering                                      over the verses to himself:  `"WE KNOW IT TO BE TRUE--" that's                                      the jury, of course-- "I GAVE HER ONE, THEY GAVE HIM TWO--" why,                                    that must be what he did with the tarts, you know--'                                                                                                                                                      `But, it goes on "THEY ALL RETURNED FROM HIM TO YOU,"' said                                       Alice.                                                                                                                                                                                                    `Why, there they are!' said the King triumphantly, pointing to                                    the tarts on the table.  `Nothing can be clearer than THAT.                                         Then again--"BEFORE SHE HAD THIS FIT--"  you never had fits, my                                     dear, I think?' he said to the Queen.                                                                                                                                                                     `Never!' said the Queen furiously, throwing an inkstand at the                                    Lizard as she spoke.  (The unfortunate little Bill had left off                                     writing on his slate with one finger, as he found it made no                                        mark; but he now hastily began again, using the ink, that was                                       trickling down his face, as long as it lasted.)                                                                                                                                                           `Then the words don't FIT you,' said the King, looking round                                      the court with a smile.  There was a dead silence.                                                                                                                                                        `It's a pun!' the King added in an offended tone, and                                             everybody laughed, `Let the jury consider their verdict,' the                                       King said, for about the twentieth time that day.                                                                                                                                                         `No, no!' said the Queen.  `Sentence first--verdict afterwards.'                                                                                                                                        `Stuff and nonsense!' said Alice loudly.  `The idea of having                                     the sentence first!'                                                                                                                                                                                      `Hold your tongue!' said the Queen, turning purple.                                                                                                                                                     `I won't!' said Alice.                                                                                                                                                                                  `Off with her head!' the Queen shouted at the top of her voice.                                   Nobody moved.                                                                                                                                                                                             `Who cares for you?' said Alice, (she had grown to her full                                       size by this time.)  `You're nothing but a pack of cards!'                                                                                                                                                At this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came flying                                      down upon her:  she gave a little scream, half of fright and half                                   of anger, and tried to beat them off, and found herself lying on                                    the bank, with her head in the lap of her sister, who was gently                                    brushing away some dead leaves that had fluttered down from the                                     trees upon her face.                                                                                                                                                                                      `Wake up, Alice dear!' said her sister; `Why, what a long                                         sleep you've had!'                                                                                                                                                                                        `Oh, I've had such a curious dream!' said Alice, and she told                                     her sister, as well as she could remember them, all these strange                                   Adventures of hers that you have just been reading about; and                                       when she had finished, her sister kissed her, and said, `It WAS a                                   curious dream, dear, certainly:  but now run in to your tea; it's                                   getting late.'  So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she                                     ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been.                                                                                                                                               But her sister sat still just as she left her, leaning her                                        head on her hand, watching the setting sun, and thinking of                                         little Alice and all her wonderful Adventures, till she too began                                   dreaming after a fashion, and this was her dream:--                                                                                                                                                       First, she dreamed of little Alice herself, and once again the                                    tiny hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes                                    were looking up into hers--she could hear the very tones of her                                     voice, and see that queer little toss of her head to keep back                                      the wandering hair that WOULD always get into her eyes--and                                         still as she listened, or seemed to listen, the whole place                                         around her became alive the strange creatures of her little                                         sister's dream.                                                                                                                                                                                           The long grass rustled at her feet as the White Rabbit hurried                                    by--the frightened Mouse splashed his way through the                                               neighbouring pool--she could hear the rattle of the teacups as                                      the March Hare and his friends shared their never-ending meal,                                      and the shrill voice of the Queen ordering off her unfortunate                                      guests to execution--once more the pig-baby was sneezing on the                                     Duchess's knee, while plates and dishes crashed around it--once                                     more the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard's                                       slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea-pigs,                                        filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable                                     Mock Turtle.                                                                                                                                                                                              So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in                                     Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and                                     all would change to dull reality--the grass would be only                                           rustling in the wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the                                    reeds--the rattling teacups would change to tinkling sheep-                                         bells, and the Queen's shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd                                    boy--and the sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, and                                     all thy other queer noises, would change (she knew) to the                                          confused clamour of the busy farm-yard--while the lowing of the                                     cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle's                                    heavy sobs.                                                                                                                                                                                               Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of                                    hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how                                    she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and                                         loving heart of her childhood:  and how she would gather about                                      her other little children, and make THEIR eyes bright and eager                                     with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of                                            Wonderland of long ago:  and how she would feel with all their                                      simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys,                                       remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.                                                                                                                                                                           THE END