The Tor Browser: browser/metro/base/tests/mochiperf/res/scroll_test

browser/metro/base/tests/mochiperf/res/scroll_test_tall.html@6474c204b198 (annotated)

browser/metro/base/tests/mochiperf/res/scroll_test_tall.html

Wed, 31 Dec 2014 06:09:35 +0100

author: Michael Schloh von Bennewitz <michael@schloh.com>
date: Wed, 31 Dec 2014 06:09:35 +0100
changeset 0: 6474c204b198
permissions: -rw-r--r--

Cloned upstream origin tor-browser at tor-browser-31.3.0esr-4.5-1-build1
revision ID fc1c9ff7c1b2defdbc039f12214767608f46423f for hacking purpose.

 <!DOCTYPE html>
 <html>
   <head>
     <style>
       #text { position: absolute; left: 1em; bottom: 1em; }
     </style>
   </head>
 <body>
 <div id="content" style="width:50%;">
   Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister
 on the bank, and of having nothing to do:  once or twice she had
 peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no
 pictures or conversations in it, `and what is the use of a book,'
 thought Alice `without pictures or conversation?'
   So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could,
 for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether
 the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble
 of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White
 Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.
   There was nothing so VERY remarkable in that; nor did Alice
 think it so VERY much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to
 itself, `Oh dear!  Oh dear!  I shall be late!'  (when she thought
 it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have
 wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural);
 but when the Rabbit actually TOOK A WATCH OUT OF ITS WAISTCOAT-
 POCKET, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to
 her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never
 before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to
 take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the
 field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop
 down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.
   In another moment down went Alice after it, never once
 considering how in the world she was to get out again.
   The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way,
 and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a
 moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself
 falling down a very deep well.
   Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she
 had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to
 wonder what was going to happen next.  First, she tried to look
 down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to
 see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and
 noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves;
 here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs.  She
 took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was
 labelled `ORANGE MARMALADE', but to her great disappointment it
 was empty:  she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing
 somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she
 fell past it.
   `Well!' thought Alice to herself, `after such a fall as this, I
 shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs!  How brave they'll
 all think me at home!  Why, I wouldn't say anything about it,
 even if I fell off the top of the house!' (Which was very likely
 true.)
   Down, down, down.  Would the fall NEVER come to an end!  `I
 wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud.
 `I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth.  Let
 me see:  that would be four thousand miles down, I think--' (for,
 you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her
 lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a VERY good
 opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to
 listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) `--yes,
 that's about the right distance--but then I wonder what Latitude
 or Longitude I've got to?'  (Alice had no idea what Latitude was,
 or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to
 say.)
   Presently she began again.  `I wonder if I shall fall right
 THROUGH the earth!  How funny it'll seem to come out among the
 people that walk with their heads downward!  The Antipathies, I
 think--' (she was rather glad there WAS no one listening, this
 time, as it didn't sound at all the right word) `--but I shall
 have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know.
 Please, Ma'am, is this New Zealand or Australia?' (and she tried
 to curtsey as she spoke--fancy CURTSEYING as you're falling
 through the air!  Do you think you could manage it?)  `And what
 an ignorant little girl she'll think me for asking!  No, it'll
 never do to ask:  perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.'
   Down, down, down.  There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon
 began talking again.  `Dinah'll miss me very much to-night, I
 should think!'  (Dinah was the cat.)  `I hope they'll remember
 her saucer of milk at tea-time.  Dinah my dear!  I wish you were
 down here with me!  There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but
 you might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, you know.
 But do cats eat bats, I wonder?'  And here Alice began to get
 rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of
 way, `Do cats eat bats?  Do cats eat bats?' and sometimes, `Do
 bats eat cats?' for, you see, as she couldn't answer either
 question, it didn't much matter which way she put it.  She felt
 that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she
 was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very
 earnestly, `Now, Dinah, tell me the truth:  did you ever eat a
 bat?' when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of
 sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.
   Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a
 moment:  she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her
 was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in
 sight, hurrying down it.  There was not a moment to be lost:
 away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it
 say, as it turned a corner, `Oh my ears and whiskers, how late
 it's getting!'  She was close behind it when she turned the
 corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen:  she found
 herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps
 hanging from the roof.
   There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked;
 and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the
 other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle,
 wondering how she was ever to get out again.
   Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of
 solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key,
 and Alice's first thought was that it might belong to one of the
 doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or
 the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of
 them.  However, on the second time round, she came upon a low
 curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little
 door about fifteen inches high:  she tried the little golden key
 in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!
   Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small
 passage, not much larger than a rat-hole:  she knelt down and
 looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw.
 How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about
 among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but
 she could not even get her head though the doorway; `and even if
 my head would go through,' thought poor Alice, `it would be of
 very little use without my shoulders.  Oh, how I wish
 I could shut up like a telescope!  I think I could, if I only
 know how to begin.'  For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things
 had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few
 things indeed were really impossible.
   There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she
 went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on
 it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like
 telescopes:  this time she found a little bottle on it, (`which
 certainly was not here before,' said Alice,) and round the neck
 of the bottle was a paper label, with the words `DRINK ME'
 beautifully printed on it in large letters.
   It was all very well to say `Drink me,' but the wise little
 Alice was not going to do THAT in a hurry.  `No, I'll look
 first,' she said, `and see whether it's marked "poison" or not';
 for she had read several nice little histories about children who
 had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant
 things, all because they WOULD not remember the simple rules
 their friends had taught them:  such as, that a red-hot poker
 will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your
 finger VERY deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had
 never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked
 `poison,' it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or
 later.
   However, this bottle was NOT marked `poison,' so Alice ventured
 to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort
 of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast
 turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished
 it off.
      *       *       *       *       *       *       *
          *       *       *       *       *       *
      *       *       *       *       *       *       *
   `What a curious feeling!' said Alice; `I must be shutting up
 like a telescope.'
   And so it was indeed:  she was now only ten inches high, and
 her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right
 size for going 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."'
   Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister
 on the bank, and of having nothing to do:  once or twice she had
 peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no
 pictures or conversations in it, `and what is the use of a book,'
 thought Alice `without pictures or conversation?'
   So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could,
 for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether
 the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble
 of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White
 Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.
   There was nothing so VERY remarkable in that; nor did Alice
 think it so VERY much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to
 itself, `Oh dear!  Oh dear!  I shall be late!'  (when she thought
 it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have
 wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural);
 but when the Rabbit actually TOOK A WATCH OUT OF ITS WAISTCOAT-
 POCKET, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to
 her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never
 before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to
 take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the
 field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop
 down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.
   In another moment down went Alice after it, never once
 considering how in the world she was to get out again.
   The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way,
 and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a
 moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself
 falling down a very deep well.
   Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she
 had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to
 wonder what was going to happen next.  First, she tried to look
 down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to
 see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and
 noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves;
 here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs.  She
 took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was
 labelled `ORANGE MARMALADE', but to her great disappointment it
 was empty:  she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing
 somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she
 fell past it.
   `Well!' thought Alice to herself, `after such a fall as this, I
 shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs!  How brave they'll
 all think me at home!  Why, I wouldn't say anything about it,
 even if I fell off the top of the house!' (Which was very likely
 true.)
   Down, down, down.  Would the fall NEVER come to an end!  `I
 wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud.
 `I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth.  Let
 me see:  that would be four thousand miles down, I think--' (for,
 you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her
 lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a VERY good
 opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to
 listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) `--yes,
 that's about the right distance--but then I wonder what Latitude
 or Longitude I've got to?'  (Alice had no idea what Latitude was,
 or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to
 say.)
   Presently she began again.  `I wonder if I shall fall right
 THROUGH the earth!  How funny it'll seem to come out among the
 people that walk with their heads downward!  The Antipathies, I
 think--' (she was rather glad there WAS no one listening, this
 time, as it didn't sound at all the right word) `--but I shall
 have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know.
 Please, Ma'am, is this New Zealand or Australia?' (and she tried
 to curtsey as she spoke--fancy CURTSEYING as you're falling
 through the air!  Do you think you could manage it?)  `And what
 an ignorant little girl she'll think me for asking!  No, it'll
 never do to ask:  perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.'
   Down, down, down.  There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon
 began talking again.  `Dinah'll miss me very much to-night, I
 should think!'  (Dinah was the cat.)  `I hope they'll remember
 her saucer of milk at tea-time.  Dinah my dear!  I wish you were
 down here with me!  There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but
 you might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, you know.
 But do cats eat bats, I wonder?'  And here Alice began to get
 rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of
 way, `Do cats eat bats?  Do cats eat bats?' and sometimes, `Do
 bats eat cats?' for, you see, as she couldn't answer either
 question, it didn't much matter which way she put it.  She felt
 that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she
 was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very
 earnestly, `Now, Dinah, tell me the truth:  did you ever eat a
 bat?' when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of
 sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.
   Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a
 moment:  she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her
 was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in
 sight, hurrying down it.  There was not a moment to be lost:
 away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it
 say, as it turned a corner, `Oh my ears and whiskers, how late
 it's getting!'  She was close behind it when she turned the
 corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen:  she found
 herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps
 hanging from the roof.
   There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked;
 and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the
 other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle,
 wondering how she was ever to get out again.
   Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of
 solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key,
 and Alice's first thought was that it might belong to one of the
 doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or
 the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of
 them.  However, on the second time round, she came upon a low
 curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little
 door about fifteen inches high:  she tried the little golden key
 in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!
   Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small
 passage, not much larger than a rat-hole:  she knelt down and
 looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw.
 How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about
 among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but
 she could not even get her head though the doorway; `and even if
 my head would go through,' thought poor Alice, `it would be of
 very little use without my shoulders.  Oh, how I wish
 I could shut up like a telescope!  I think I could, if I only
 know how to begin.'  For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things
 had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few
 things indeed were really impossible.
   There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she
 went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on
 it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like
 telescopes:  this time she found a little bottle on it, (`which
 certainly was not here before,' said Alice,) and round the neck
 of the bottle was a paper label, with the words `DRINK ME'
 beautifully printed on it in large letters.
   It was all very well to say `Drink me,' but the wise little
 Alice was not going to do THAT in a hurry.  `No, I'll look
 first,' she said, `and see whether it's marked "poison" or not';
 for she had read several nice little histories about children who
 had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant
 things, all because they WOULD not remember the simple rules
 their friends had taught them:  such as, that a red-hot poker
 will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your
 finger VERY deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had
 never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked
 `poison,' it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or
 later.
   However, this bottle was NOT marked `poison,' so Alice ventured
 to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort
 of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast
 turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished
 it off.
      *       *       *       *       *       *       *
          *       *       *       *       *       *
      *       *       *       *       *       *       *
   `What a curious feeling!' said Alice; `I must be shutting up
 like a telescope.'
   And so it was indeed:  she was now only ten inches high, and
 her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right
 size for going 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."'
   Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister
 on the bank, and of having nothing to do:  once or twice she had
 peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no
 pictures or conversations in it, `and what is the use of a book,'
 thought Alice `without pictures or conversation?'
   So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could,
 for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether
 the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble
 of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White
 Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.
   There was nothing so VERY remarkable in that; nor did Alice
 think it so VERY much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to
 itself, `Oh dear!  Oh dear!  I shall be late!'  (when she thought
 it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have
 wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural);
 but when the Rabbit actually TOOK A WATCH OUT OF ITS WAISTCOAT-
 POCKET, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to
 her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never
 before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to
 take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the
 field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop
 down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.
   In another moment down went Alice after it, never once
 considering how in the world she was to get out again.
   The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way,
 and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a
 moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself
 falling down a very deep well.
   Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she
 had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to
 wonder what was going to happen next.  First, she tried to look
 down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to
 see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and
 noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves;
 here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs.  She
 took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was
 labelled `ORANGE MARMALADE', but to her great disappointment it
 was empty:  she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing
 somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she
 fell past it.
   `Well!' thought Alice to herself, `after such a fall as this, I
 shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs!  How brave they'll
 all think me at home!  Why, I wouldn't say anything about it,
 even if I fell off the top of the house!' (Which was very likely
 true.)
   Down, down, down.  Would the fall NEVER come to an end!  `I
 wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud.
 `I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth.  Let
 me see:  that would be four thousand miles down, I think--' (for,
 you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her
 lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a VERY good
 opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to
 listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) `--yes,
 that's about the right distance--but then I wonder what Latitude
 or Longitude I've got to?'  (Alice had no idea what Latitude was,
 or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to
 say.)
   Presently she began again.  `I wonder if I shall fall right
 THROUGH the earth!  How funny it'll seem to come out among the
 people that walk with their heads downward!  The Antipathies, I
 think--' (she was rather glad there WAS no one listening, this
 time, as it didn't sound at all the right word) `--but I shall
 have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know.
 Please, Ma'am, is this New Zealand or Australia?' (and she tried
 to curtsey as she spoke--fancy CURTSEYING as you're falling
 through the air!  Do you think you could manage it?)  `And what
 an ignorant little girl she'll think me for asking!  No, it'll
 never do to ask:  perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.'
   Down, down, down.  There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon
 began talking again.  `Dinah'll miss me very much to-night, I
 should think!'  (Dinah was the cat.)  `I hope they'll remember
 her saucer of milk at tea-time.  Dinah my dear!  I wish you were
 down here with me!  There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but
 you might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, you know.
 But do cats eat bats, I wonder?'  And here Alice began to get
 rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of
 way, `Do cats eat bats?  Do cats eat bats?' and sometimes, `Do
 bats eat cats?' for, you see, as she couldn't answer either
 question, it didn't much matter which way she put it.  She felt
 that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she
 was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very
 earnestly, `Now, Dinah, tell me the truth:  did you ever eat a
 bat?' when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of
 sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.
   Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a
 moment:  she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her
 was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in
 sight, hurrying down it.  There was not a moment to be lost:
 away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it
 say, as it turned a corner, `Oh my ears and whiskers, how late
 it's getting!'  She was close behind it when she turned the
 corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen:  she found
 herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps
 hanging from the roof.
   There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked;
 and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the
 other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle,
 wondering how she was ever to get out again.
   Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of
 solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key,
 and Alice's first thought was that it might belong to one of the
 doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or
 the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of
 them.  However, on the second time round, she came upon a low
 curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little
 door about fifteen inches high:  she tried the little golden key
 in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!
   Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small
 passage, not much larger than a rat-hole:  she knelt down and
 looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw.
 How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about
 among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but
 she could not even get her head though the doorway; `and even if
 my head would go through,' thought poor Alice, `it would be of
 very little use without my shoulders.  Oh, how I wish
 I could shut up like a telescope!  I think I could, if I only
 know how to begin.'  For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things
 had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few
 things indeed were really impossible.
   There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she
 went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on
 it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like
 telescopes:  this time she found a little bottle on it, (`which
 certainly was not here before,' said Alice,) and round the neck
 of the bottle was a paper label, with the words `DRINK ME'
 beautifully printed on it in large letters.
   It was all very well to say `Drink me,' but the wise little
 Alice was not going to do THAT in a hurry.  `No, I'll look
 first,' she said, `and see whether it's marked "poison" or not';
 for she had read several nice little histories about children who
 had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant
 things, all because they WOULD not remember the simple rules
 their friends had taught them:  such as, that a red-hot poker
 will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your
 finger VERY deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had
 never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked
 `poison,' it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or
 later.
   However, this bottle was NOT marked `poison,' so Alice ventured
 to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort
 of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast
 turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished
 it off.
      *       *       *       *       *       *       *
          *       *       *       *       *       *
      *       *       *       *       *       *       *
   `What a curious feeling!' said Alice; `I must be shutting up
 like a telescope.'
   And so it was indeed:  she was now only ten inches high, and
 her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right
 size for going 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."'
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