For a minute or two she stood looking at the house, andwondering what to do next, when suddenly a footman in livery camerunning out of the wood--(she considered him to be a footmanbecause he was in livery: otherwise, judging by his face only,she would have called him a fish)--and rapped loudly at the doorwith his knuckles. It was opened by another footman in livery,with a round face, and large eyes like a frog; and both footmen,Alice noticed, had powdered hair that curled all over theirheads. She felt very curious to know what it was all about, andcrept a little way out of the wood to listen.

The Fish-Footman began by producing from under his arm a greatletter, nearly as large as himself, and this he handed over tothe other, saying, in a solemn tone, `For the Duchess. Aninvitation from the Queen to play croquet.' The Frog-Footmanrepeated, in the same solemn tone, only changing the order of thewords a little, `From the Queen. An invitation for the Duchessto play croquet.'

Then they both bowed low, and their curls got entangledtogether.

Alice laughed so much at this, that she had to run back intothe wood for fear of their hearing her; and when she next peepedout the Fish-Footman was gone, and the other was sitting on theground near the door, staring stupidly up into the sky.

Alice went timidly up to the door, and knocked.

`There's no sort of use in knocking,' said the Footman, `andthat for two reasons. First, because I'm on the same side of thedoor as you are; secondly, because they're making such a noiseinside, no one could possibly hear you.' And certainly there wasa most extraordinary noise going on within--a constant howlingand sneezing, and every now and then a great crash, as if a dishor kettle had been broken to pieces.

`Please, then,' said Alice, `how am I to get in?'

`There might be some sense in your knocking,' the Footman wenton without attending to her, `if we had the door between us. Forinstance, if you were INSIDE, you might knock, and I could letyou out, you know.' He was looking up into the sky all the timehe was speaking, and this Alice thought decidedly uncivil. `Butperhaps he can't help it,' she said to herself; `his eyes are soVERY nearly at the top of his head. But at any rate he mightanswer questions.--How am I to get in?' she repeated, aloud.

`I shall sit here,' the Footman remarked, `till tomorrow--'

At this moment the door of the house opened, and a large platecame skimming out, straight at the Footman's head: it justgrazed his nose, and broke to pieces against one of the treesbehind him.

`--or next day, maybe,' the Footman continued in the same tone,exactly as if nothing had happened.

`How am I to get in?' asked Alice again, in a louder tone.

`ARE you to get in at all?' said the Footman. `That's thefirst question, you know.'

It was, no doubt: only Alice did not like to be told so.`It's really dreadful,' she muttered to herself, `the way all thecreatures argue. It's enough to drive one crazy!'

The Footman seemed to think this a good opportunity forrepeating his remark, with variations. `I shall sit here,' hesaid, `on and off, for days and days.'

`But what am I to do?' said Alice.

`Anything you like,' said the Footman, and began whistling.

`Oh, there's no use in talking to him,' said Alice desperately:`he's perfectly idiotic!' And she opened the door and went in.

The door led right into a large kitchen, which was full ofsmoke from one end to the other: the Duchess was sitting on athree-legged stool in the middle, nursing a baby; the cook wasleaning over the fire, stirring a large cauldron which seemed tobe full of soup.

`There's certainly too much pepper in that soup!' Alice said toherself, as well as she could for sneezing.

There was certainly too much of it in the air. Even theDuchess sneezed occasionally; and as for the baby, it wassneezing and howling alternately without a moment's pause. Theonly things in the kitchen that did not sneeze, were the cook,and a large cat which was sitting on the hearth and grinning fromear to ear.

`Please would you tell me,' said Alice, a little timidly, forshe was not quite sure whether it was good manners for her tospeak first, `why your cat grins like that?'

`It's a Cheshire cat,' said the Duchess, `and that's why.Pig!'

She said the last word with such sudden violence that Alicequite jumped; but she saw in another moment that it was addressedto the baby, and not to her, so she took courage, and went onagain:--

`I didn't know that Cheshire cats always grinned; in fact, Ididn't know that cats COULD grin.'

`They all can,' said the Duchess; `and most of 'em do.'

`I don't know of any that do,' Alice said very politely,feeling quite pleased to have got into a conversation.

`You don't know much,' said the Duchess; `and that's a fact.'

Alice did not at all like the tone of this remark, and thoughtit would be as well to introduce some other subject ofconversation. While she was trying to fix on one, the cook tookthe cauldron of soup off the fire, and at once set to workthrowing everything within her reach at the Duchess and the baby--the fire-irons came first; then followed a shower of saucepans,plates, and dishes. The Duchess took no notice of them even whenthey hit her; and the baby was howling so much already, that itwas quite impossible to say whether the blows hurt it or not.

`Oh, PLEASE mind what you're doing!' cried Alice, jumping upand down in an agony of terror. `Oh, there goes his PRECIOUSnose'; as an unusually large saucepan flew close by it, and verynearly carried it off.

`If everybody minded their own business,' the Duchess said in ahoarse growl, `the world would go round a deal faster than itdoes.'

`Which would NOT be an advantage,' said Alice, who felt veryglad to get an opportunity of showing off a little of herknowledge. `Just think of what work it would make with the dayand night! You see the earth takes twenty-four hours to turnround on its axis--'

`Talking of axes,' said the Duchess, `chop off her head!'

Alice glanced rather anxiously at the cook, to see if she meantto take the hint; but the cook was busily stirring the soup, andseemed not to be listening, so she went on again: `Twenty-fourhours, I THINK; or is it twelve? I--'

`Oh, don't bother ME,' said the Duchess; `I never could abidefigures!' And with that she began nursing her child again,singing a sort of lullaby to it as she did so, and giving it aviolent shake at the end of every line:

`Speak roughly to your little boy,And beat him when he sneezes:He only does it to annoy,Because he knows it teases.'

CHORUS.

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

`Wow! wow! wow!'

While the Duchess sang the second verse of the song, she kepttossing the baby violently up and down, and the poor little thinghowled so, that Alice could hardly hear the words:--

`I speak severely to my boy,I beat him when he sneezes;For he can thoroughly enjoyThe pepper when he pleases!'

CHORUS.

`Wow! wow! wow!'

`Here! you may nurse it a bit, if you like!' the Duchess saidto Alice, flinging the baby at her as she spoke. `I must go andget ready to play croquet with the Queen,' and she hurried out ofthe room. The cook threw a frying-pan after her as she went out,but it just missed her.

Alice caught the baby with some difficulty, as it was a queer-shaped little creature, and held out its arms and legs in alldirections, `just like a star-fish,' thought Alice. The poorlittle thing was snorting like a steam-engine when she caught it,and kept doubling itself up and straightening itself out again,so that altogether, for the first minute or two, it was as muchas she could do to hold it.

As soon as she had made out the proper way of nursing it,(which was to twist it up into a sort of knot, and then keeptight hold of its right ear and left foot, so as to prevent itsundoing itself,) she carried it out into the open air. `IF Idon't take this child away with me,' thought Alice, `they're sureto kill it in a day or two: wouldn't it be murder to leave itbehind?' She said the last words out loud, and the little thinggrunted in reply (it had left off sneezing by this time). `Don'tgrunt,' said Alice; `that's not at all a proper way of expressingyourself.'

The baby grunted again, and Alice looked very anxiously intoits face to see what was the matter with it. There could be nodoubt that it had a VERY turn-up nose, much more like a snoutthan a real nose; also its eyes were getting extremely small fora baby: altogether Alice did not like the look of the thing atall. `But perhaps it was only sobbing,' she thought, and lookedinto its eyes again, to see if there were any tears.

No, there were no tears. `If you're going to turn into a pig,my dear,' said Alice, seriously, `I'll have nothing more to dowith you. Mind now!' The poor little thing sobbed again (orgrunted, it was impossible to say which), and they went on forsome while in silence.

Alice was just beginning to think to herself, `Now, what am Ito do with this creature when I get it home?' when it gruntedagain, so violently, that she looked down into its face in somealarm. This time there could be NO mistake about it: it wasneither more nor less than a pig, and she felt that it would bequite absurd for her to carry it further.

So she set the little creature down, and felt quite relieved tosee it trot away quietly into the wood. `If it had grown up,'she said to herself, `it would have made a dreadfully ugly child:but it makes rather a handsome pig, I think.' And she beganthinking over other children she knew, who might do very well aspigs, and was just saying to herself, `if one only knew the rightway to change them--' when she was a little startled by seeingthe Cheshire Cat sitting on a bough of a tree a few yards off.

The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked good-natured, she thought: still it had VERY long claws and a greatmany teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect.

`Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did not atall know whether it would like the name: however, it onlygrinned a little wider. `Come, it's pleased so far,' thoughtAlice, and she went on. `Would you tell me, please, which way Iought to go from here?'

`That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' saidthe Cat.

`I don't much care where--' said Alice.

`Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat.

`--so long as I get SOMEWHERE,' Alice added as an explanation.

`Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, `if you only walklong enough.'

Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried anotherquestion. `What sort of people live about here?'

`In THAT direction,' the Cat said, waving its right paw round,`lives a Hatter: and in THAT direction,' waving the other paw,`lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad.'

`But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.

`Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat: `we're all mad here.I'm mad. You're mad.'

`How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice.

`You must be,' said the Cat, `or you wouldn't have come here.'

Alice didn't think that proved it at all; however, she went on`And how do you know that you're mad?'

`To begin with,' said the Cat, `a dog's not mad. You grantthat?'

`I suppose so,' said Alice.

`Well, then,' the Cat went on, `you see, a dog growls when it'sangry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'mpleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad.'

`I call it purring, not growling,' said Alice.

`Call it what you like,' said the Cat. `Do you play croquetwith the Queen to-day?'

`I should like it very much,' said Alice, `but I haven't beeninvited yet.'

`You'll see me there,' said the Cat, and vanished.

Alice was not much surprised at this, she was getting so usedto queer things happening. While she was looking at the placewhere it had been, it suddenly appeared again.

`By-the-bye, what became of the baby?' said the Cat. `I'dnearly forgotten to ask.'

`It turned into a pig,' Alice quietly said, just as if it hadcome back in a natural way.

`I thought it would,' said the Cat, and vanished again.

Alice waited a little, half expecting to see it again, but itdid not appear, and after a minute or two she walked on in thedirection in which the March Hare was said to live. `I've seenhatters before,' she said to herself; `the March Hare will bemuch the most interesting, and perhaps as this is May it won't beraving mad--at least not so mad as it was in March.' As she saidthis, she looked up, and there was the Cat again, sitting on abranch of a tree.

`Did you say pig, or fig?' said the Cat.

`I said pig,' replied Alice; `and I wish you wouldn't keepappearing and vanishing so suddenly: you make one quite giddy.'

`All right,' said the Cat; and this time it vanished quiteslowly, beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with thegrin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone.

`Well! I've often seen a cat without a grin,' thought Alice;`but a grin without a cat! It's the most curious thing I eversay in my life!'

She had not gone much farther before she came in sight of thehouse of the March Hare: she thought it must be the right house,because the chimneys were shaped like ears and the roof wasthatched with fur. It was so large a house, that she did notlike to go nearer till she had nibbled some more of the lefthandbit of mushroom, and raised herself to about two feet high: eventhen she walked up towards it rather timidly, saying to herself`Suppose it should be raving mad after all! I almost wish I'dgone to see the Hatter instead!'