Alice'S Adventures in Wonderland: by Lewis Carroll

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Title: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
Author: Lewis Carroll
Release Date: June 25, 2008 [EBook #11]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND ***
Produced by David Widger
ALICE'S ADVENTURES
IN WONDERLAND
By Lewis Carroll
THE MILLENNIUM FULCRUM EDITION 3.0
Contents
CHAPTER I. Down the Rabbit-Hole

CHAPTER II. The Pool of Tears
CHAPTER III. A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale
CHAPTER IV. The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill
CHAPTER V. Advice from a Caterpillar
CHAPTER VI. Pig and Pepper
file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

CHAPTER VII. A Mad Tea-Party

CHAPTER VIII. The Queen's Croquet-Ground
CHAPTER IX. The Mock Turtle's Story
CHAPTER X. The Lobster Quadrille
CHAPTER XI. Who Stole the Tarts?
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!
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?
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
End of Project Gutenberg's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll
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Alice'S Adventures in Wonderland: by Lewis Carroll

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Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll Page 1 of 47

Project Gutenberg's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll

Title: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Author: Lewis Carroll

Release Date: June 25, 2008 [EBook #11]

Character set encoding: ASCII

Produced by David Widger

THE MILLENNIUM FULCRUM EDITION 3.0

CHAPTER I. Down the Rabbit-Hole

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

CHAPTER VII. A Mad Tea-Party

CHAPTER I. Down the Rabbit-Hole

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

CHAPTER II. The Pool of Tears

ALICE'S RIGHT FOOT, ESQ.

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

NEAR THE FENDER,

Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking!'

'How doth the little crocodile

'How cheerfully he seems to grin,

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

CHAPTER III. A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale

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file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

CHAPTER IV. The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

kick, and waited to see what would happen next.

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

CHAPTER V. Advice from a Caterpillar

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

'You are old, Father William,' the young man said,

'In my youth,' Father William replied to his son,

'You are old,' said the youth, 'as I mentioned before,

'In my youth,' said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,

'In my youth,' said his father, 'I took to the law,

'I have answered three questions, and that is enough,'

'That is not said right,' said the Caterpillar.

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

she felt that she was losing her temper.

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

CHAPTER VI. Pig and Pepper

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file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

'Speak roughly to your little boy,

(In which the cook and the baby joined):—

'Wow! wow! wow!'

'I speak severely to my boy,

'Wow! wow! wow!'

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

just missed her.

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

CHAPTER VII. A Mad Tea-Party

file://C:\Users\RAINY SEA\Desktop\Ebookj\Kid books\11-h.htm 2010-09-26

wine,' she remarked.

* This file should be named 11-h.htm or 11-h.zip *

* START: FULL LICENSE *