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back, then walked on in the way in which the March Hare was said to live.

"I've seen Hat-ters," she said to her-self; "so I'll go to see the March Hare." As she said this, she looked up, and there sat the Cat on a branch of a tree.

"Did you say pig, or fig?" asked the Cat.

"I said pig; and I wish you wouldn't come and go, all at once, like you do; you make one quite gid-dy."

"All right," said the Cat; and this time it faded out in such a way that its tail went first, and the last thing Al-ice saw was the grin which stayed some time af-ter the rest of it had gone.

"Well, I've seen a cat with-out a grin," thought Al-ice; "but a grin with-out a cat! It's the strang-est thing I ev-er saw in all my life!"

She soon came in sight of the house of the March Hare; she thought it must be the right place, as the chim-neys were shaped like ears, and the roof was thatched with fur. It was so large a house, that she did not like to go too near while she was so small; so she ate a small piece from the left-hand bit of mush-room, and raised her-self to two feet high. Then she walked up to the house, though with some fear lest it should be mad as the Cat had said.

CHAPTER VII. A MAD TEA-PARTY.

There was a ta-ble set out, in the shade of the trees in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hat-ter were at tea; a Dor-mouse sat be-tween them, but it seemed to have gone to sleep.

The ta-ble was a long one, but the three were all crowd-ed at one cor-ner of it. "No room! No room!" they cried out as soon as they saw Al-ice. "There's plen-ty of room," she said, and sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table.

"Have some wine," the March Hare said in a kind tone.

Al-ice looked all round the ta-ble, but there was not a thing on it but tea. "I don't see the wine," she said.

"There isn't an-y," said the March Hare.

"Then it wasn't po-lite of you to ask me to have wine," said Al-ice.

"It wasn't po-lite of you to sit down when no one had asked you to have a seat," said the March Hare.

"I didn't know it was your ta-ble," said Al-ice; "it's laid for more than three."

"Your hair wants cut-ting," said the Hat-ter. He had looked hard at Al-ice for some time, and this was his first speech.

"You should learn not to speak to a guest like that," said Al-ice; "it is ve-ry rude."

The Hat-ter stretched his eyes quite wide at this; but all he said was, "Why is a rav-en like a desk?"

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"Come, we shall have some fun now," thought Al-ice. "I think I can guess that," she added out loud.

"Do you mean that you think you can find out the an-swer to it?" asked the March Hare.

"I do," said Al-ice.

"Then you should say what you mean," the March Hare went on.

"I do," Al-ice said; "at least—at least I mean what I say—that's the same thing, you know."

"Not the same thing a bit!" said the Hat-ter. "Why, you might just as well say, '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 Dor-mouse, who seemed to be talk-ing in his sleep, "that 'I breathe when I sleep' is the same thing as 'I sleep when I breathe'!"

"It is the same with you," said the Hat-ter.

No one spoke for some time, while Al-ice tried to think of all she knew of rav-ens and desks, which wasn't much.

The Hat-ter was the first to speak. "What day of the month is it?" he said, turn-ing to Al-ice. He had his watch in his hand, looked at it and shook it now and then while he held it to his ear.

Al-ice thought a-while, and said, "The fourth."

"Two days wrong!" sighed the Hat-ter. "I told you but-ter wouldn't suit this watch," he add-ed with a scowl as he looked at the March Hare.

"It was the best but-ter," the March Hare said.

"Yes, but some crumbs must have got in," the Hat-ter growled; "you shouldn't have put it in with the bread-knife."

The March Hare took the watch and looked at it; then dipped it in-to his cup of tea and looked at it a-gain; but all he could think to say was, "it was the best but-ter, you know."

"Oh, what a fun-ny watch!" said Al-ice. "It tells the day of the month and doesn't tell what o'clock it is!"

"Why should it?" growled the Hat-ter.

"Does your watch tell what year it is?"

"Of course not," said Al-ice, "but there's no need that it should, since it stays the same year such a long time."

"Which is just the case with mine," said the Hat-ter; which seemed to Al-ice to have no sense in it at all.

"I don't quite know what you mean," she said.

"The Dor-mouse has gone to sleep, once more," said the Hat-ter, and he poured some hot tea on the tip of its nose.

The Dor-mouse shook its head, and said with its eyes still closed, "Of course, of course; just what I want-ed to say my-self."

"Have you guessed the rid-dle yet?" the Hat-ter asked, turn-ing to Al-ice.

"No, I give it up," she said. "What's the an-swer?"

"I do not know at all," said the Hat-ter.

"Nor I," said the March Hare.

Al-ice sighed. "I think you might do bet-ter with the time than to waste it, by ask-ing rid-dles that have no an-swers."

"If you knew Time as well as I do, you wouldn't say 'waste it.' It's him."

"I don't know what you mean," Al-ice said.

"Of course you don't!" said the Hat-ter with a toss of his head. "I dare say you nev-er e-ven spoke to Time."

"May-be not," she said, "but I know I have to beat time when I learn to sing."

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"Oh! that's it," said the Hat-ter. "He won't stand beat-ing. Now if you kept on good terms with him, he would do an-y-thing you liked with the clock. Say it was nine o'clock, just time to go to school; you'd have but to give a hint to Time, and round goes the clock! Half-past one, time for lunch."

"I wish it was," the March Hare said to it-self.

"That would be grand, I'm sure," said Al-ice: "but then—I shouldn't be hun-gry for it, you know."

"Not at first, per-haps, but you could keep it to half-past one as long as you liked," said the Hat-ter.

"Is that the way you do?" asked Al-ice.

The Hat-ter shook his head and sighed. "Not I," he said. "Time and I fell out last March. It was at the great con-cert giv-en by the Queen of Hearts and I had to sing:

'Twin-kle, twin-kle, lit-tle bat!
How I wonder what you're at!'

You know the song, per-haps?"

"I've heard some-thing like it," said Alice.

"It goes on, you know," the Hat-ter said, "in this way:

'Up a-bove the world you fly,
Like a tea-tray in the sky,
Twin-kle, twin-kle——'"

Here the Dor-mouse shook it-self and sang in its sleep, "twin-kle, twin-kle, twin-kle, twin-kle——" and went on so long that they had to pinch it to make it stop.

"Well, while I sang the first verse," the Hat-ter went on, "the Queen bawled out 'See how he mur-ders the time! Off with his head!' And ev-er since that, he won't do a thing I ask! It's al-ways six o'clock now."

A bright thought came in-to Al-ice's head. "Is that why so man-y tea things are put out here?" she asked.

"Yes, that's it," said the Hat-ter with a sigh: "it's al-ways tea-time, and we've no time to wash the things."

"Then you keep mov-ing round, I guess," said Al-ice.

"Just so," said the Hat-ter; "as the things get used up."

"But when you come to the place where you started, what do you do then?" Al-ice dared to ask.

"I'm tired of this," yawned the March Hare. "I vote you tell us a tale."

"I fear I don't know one," said Al-ice.

"I want a clean cup," spoke up the Hat-ter.

He moved on as he spoke, and the Dor-mouse moved in-to his place; the March Hare moved in-to the Dor-mouse's place and Al-ice, none too well pleased, took the place of the March Hare. The Hat-ter was the on-ly one to get an-y good from the change; and Al-ice was a good deal worse off, as the March Hare had up-set the milk-jug in-to his plate.

"Now, for your sto-ry," the March Hare said to Al-ice.

"I'm sure I don't know,"—Alice be-gan, "I—I don't think—"

"Then you shouldn't talk," said the Hat-ter.

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This was more than Al-ice could stand; so she got up and walked off, and though she looked back once or twice and half hoped they would call af-ter her, they didn't seem to know that she was gone. The last time she saw them, they were trying to put the poor Dor-mouse head first in-to the tea-pot.

"Well, I'll not go there a-gain," said Al-ice as she picked her way through the wood. "It's the dull-est tea-par-ty I was ev-er at in all my life."

As Al-ice said this, she saw that one of the trees had a door that led right in-to it. "That's strange!" she thought; "but I haven't seen a thing to-day that isn't strange. I think I may as well go in at once." And in she went.

Once more she found her-self in a long hall, and close to the lit-tle glass stand. She took up the lit-tle key and un-locked the door that led to the gar-den. Then she set to work to eat some of the mush-room which she still had with her. When she was a-bout a foot high, she went through the door and walked down the lit-tle hall; then—she found herself, at last, in the love-ly garden, where she had seen the bright blooms and the cool foun-tains.

CHAPTER VIII. THE QUEEN'S CRO-QUET GROUND.

A large rose tree stood near the gar-den gate. The blooms on it were white, but three men who seemed to be in great haste were paint-ing them red. Al-ice thought this a strange thing to do, so she went near-er to watch them. Just as she came up to them, she heard one of them say, "Look out now, Five! Don't splash paint on me like that!"

"I couldn't help it," said Five, "Six knocked my arm."

On which Six looked up and said, "That's right, Five! Don't fail to lay the blame on some one else."

"You needn't talk," said Five. "I heard the Queen say your head must come off."

"What for?" asked the one who spoke first.

"What is that to you, Two?" said Six.

"It is much to him and I'll tell him," said Five. "He brought the cook tu-lip roots for on-ions."

Six flung down the brush and said, "Well, of all the wrong things—" Just then his eyes chanced to fall on Al-ice, who stood and watched them, and he checked him-self at once; Five and Two looked round al-so, and all of them bowed low.

"Would you tell me, please," said Al-ice, "why you paint those ros-es?"

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Five and Six did not speak, but looked at Two, who said in a low voice, "Why, the fact is, you see, Miss, this here ought to have been a red rose tree, and by mis-take a white one was put in, and if the Queen was to find it out, we should all have our heads cut off, you know. So you see, Miss, we are hard at work to get it paint-ed, so that she may not—" Just then Five, who had stood and watched the

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