    ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND
                    
             Lewis Carroll
                    
   THE MILLENNIUM FULCRUM EDITION 3.0
                    
                    
                    
                    
               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 through
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 through
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 she 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. 
Her 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 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 voices 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 saw 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 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 pocket) 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 ever 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 Duchess, 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.

  `Change lobsters again!' yelled the
Gryphon at the top of its voice.

  `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
    Pennyworth 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 the
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
the 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
