type="note">[44]: and in that direction, lives a March Hare[45]. Visit them: they’re both mad.”
“But I don’t want to see mad people,” Alice remarked.
“Oh, we’re all mad here,” said the Cat. “I’m mad. You’re mad.”
“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.
“You must be,” said the Cat, “you are here.”
“And how do you know that you’re mad?” she went on.
“A dog is not mad,” said the Cat, “Do you believe that?”
“I suppose so,” said Alice.
“Well, then,” the Cat went on, “you see, a dog growls when it’s angry, and wags its tail when it’s pleased. Now I growl when I’m pleased, and wag my tail when I’m angry. Therefore I’m mad. Do you play croquet with the Queen today?”
“With pleasure,” said Alice, “but I do not have an invitation.”
“You’ll see me there,” said the Cat, and vanished.
Alice was not much surprised at this. While she was looking at the place where the cat was, it suddenly appeared again.
“And what became of the baby?” said the Cat. “I forgot to ask.”
“It turned into a pig,” Alice quietly said.
“Of course,” said the Cat, and vanished again.
Alice waited a little, but the Cat did not appear, and after a minute or two she walked on in the direction in which the March Hare lived.
“I saw hatters,” she said to herself; “the March Hare is more interesting.”
As she said this, she looked up, and there was the Cat again. It was sitting on a branch of a tree.
“Did you say pig, or fig?” said the Cat.
“I said pig,” replied Alice; “can you appear and vanish not so fast, please?”
“All right,” said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite slowly. It began with the end of the tail, and ended with the grin. Its grin remained some time.
“Well! I saw a cat without a grin,” thought Alice; “but a grin without a cat! How curious!”
She went farther and she saw the house of the March Hare. The chimneys were like ears and the roof was thatched with fur. It was a large house, and she ate a bit of the mushroom, and raised herself to about two feet high.
Chapter VII
A Mad Tea-Party[46]
There was a table under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea: a Dormouse[47] was sitting between them, fast asleep. The March Hare and the Hatter were using it as a cushion. They were resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head.
“Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse,” thought Alice; “but it’s asleep, so, I suppose it doesn’t mind[48].”
The table was large, but they were sitting together at one corner of it: “No room! No room!” they cried out when they saw Alice.
“There’s plenty of room!” said Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table.
“Have some wine,” the March Hare said.
Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea.
“I don’t see any wine,” she remarked.
“There isn’t any,” said the March Hare.
“Why do you offer? It isn’t very polite of you,” said Alice angrily.
“It isn’t very polite of you to sit down here: nobody invited you,” said the March Hare.
“I didn’t know it was your table,” said Alice; “there are many cups on it.”
The Hatter opened his eyes very wide and said, “Why is a raven like a writing-desk[49]?”
“I believe I can guess that!” said Alice aloud.
“Do you mean that you think you can answer?” said the March Hare.
“Exactly so,” said Alice.
“Then you must say what you mean,” the March Hare went on.
“I do,” Alice hastily replied; “at least—at least I mean what I say—that’s the same thing, you know.”
“Not the same thing at all!” said the Hatter. “You can say ‘I see what I eat’ is the same thing as ‘I eat what I see’!”
“You can say,” added the March Hare, “that ‘I like what I get’ is the same thing as ‘I get what I like’!”
“You can say,” added the Dormouse in its sleep, “that ‘I breathe when I sleep’ is the same thing as ‘I sleep when I breathe’!”
“It is the same thing to you,” said the Hatter, and here the conversation dropped, and they sat silent for a minute.
“What day of the month is it?” the Hatter asked. He took his watch out of his pocket. He was looking at it, shaking it and holding it to his ear.
Alice considered a little, and then said “The fourth.”
“Two days wrong!” sighed the Hatter. “Listen to me: you must not use the butter!” he looked angrily at the March Hare.
“It was the best butter,” the March Hare meekly replied.
“Yes, but there were some crumbs,” the Hatter grumbled: “you used the bread-knife.”
The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily: then he dipped it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again.
“It was the best butter, you know,” he said again.
Alice looked over his shoulder with some curiosity.
“What a funny watch!” she remarked. “It tells the day of the month, and doesn’t tell the time!”
“Why?” muttered the Hatter. “Does your watch tell you what year it is?”
“Of course not,” Alice replied very readily: “but that’s because my year is very long.”
“But my year is also long,” said the Hatter.
“I don’t quite understand you,” Alice said.
“The Dormouse is sleeping again,” said the Hatter, and he poured a little hot tea upon its nose.
The Dormouse shook its head, and said, “Of course, of course; it’s just what I was going to say.”
“What about the riddle?” asked the Hatter.
“I can’t guess,” Alice replied: “what’s the answer?”
“No idea,” said the Hatter.
“Nor I,” said the March Hare.
“What’s the time?” asked Alice.
“It’s always six o’clock now,” the Hatter answered. “It’s always tea-time, and we have no time to wash the dishes.”
“Then you move round, I suppose?” said Alice.
“Exactly so,” said the Hatter.
“But what happens when you come to the beginning again?” Alice asked.
“Let’s change the subject,” the March Hare interrupted. “The young lady will tell us a story, right?”
“I’m