The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for
     some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the 
     hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a 
     languid, sleepy voice.

     'Who are you?' said the Caterpillar.

     This was not an encouraging opening for a onversation. 
     Alice replied, rather shyly, 'I--I hardly know, Sir, just at 
     present--at least I know who I was when I got up this
     morning, but I think I must have been changed several 
     times since then.'

     'What do you mean by that?' said the Caterpillar, 
     sternly. 'Explain yourself!'

     'I ca'n't explain myself, I'm afraid, Sir,' said Alice,
     'because I'm not myself, you see.'

     'I don't see,' said the Caterpillar.

     'Are you content now!' said the Caterpillar.

     'Well, I should like to be a little larger, Sir, if you 
      wouldn't mind,' said Alice: 'three inches is such a 
      wretched height to be.'

     'It is a very good height indeed!' said the Caterpillar 
     angrily, rearing itself upright as it spoke (it was exactly 
     three inches high).

     'Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did 
     not at all know whether it would like the name: however,
     it only grinned a little wider. 'Come, it's pleased so far,' 
     thought Alice, and she went on. 'Would you tell me, 
     please, which way I ought to go from here?'

     'That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,'
     said the Cat.

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

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

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

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

     '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 ca'n'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.'

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

     'I do,' Alice hastily replied; 'at least -- at least I mean 
     what I say -- that's the same thing, you know.'

     'Not the same thing a bit!' said the Hatter. 'Why, you 
     might just as well say that "I see what I eat" is the same 
     thing as "I eat what I see'!"

     'You might just as well say,' added the March Hare, 
     'that "I like what I get" is the same thing as "I get what I 
     like"!'

     'You might just as well say,' added the Dormouse, 
     which seemed to be talking in its sleep, 'that "I breathe
     when I sleep" is the same thing as "I sleep when I 
     breathe"!'

     'It is the same thing with you,' said the Hatter, and here
     the conversation dropped

     'Take some more tea,' the March Hare said to Alice,
     very earnestly.

     'I've had nothing yet,' Alice replied in an offended tone:
     'so I ca'n't take more.'

     'You mean you can't take less,' said the Hatter: 'it's 
     very easy to take more than nothing.'

     She had quite forgotten the Duchess by this time, and 
     was a little startled when she heard her voice close to 
     her ear.

     'You're thinking about something, my dear, and that 
     makes you forget to talk. I ca'n't tell you just now what
     the moral of that is, but I shall remember it in a bit.'

     'Perhaps it hasn't one,' Alice ventured to remark.

     'Tut, tut, child!' said the Duchess. 'Everything's got a
     moral, if only you can find it.'

     ''Tis so,' said the Duchess: 'and the moral of that is--
     "Oh, 'tis love, 'tis love, that makes the world go round!"'

     'Somebody said,' Alice whispered, 'that it's done by
     everybody minding their own business!'

     'Ah well! It means much the same thing,' said the
     Duchess, digging her sharp little chin into Alice's 
     shoulder as she added 'and the moral of that is--"Take 
     care of the sense and the sounds will take care of 
     themselves."'

     'I've a right to think,' said Alice sharply, for she was
     beginning to feel a little worried.

     'Just about as much right,' said the Duchess, 'as pigs
     have to fly; and the m--'

     'When we were little,' the Mock Turtle went on at last,
     more calmly, though still sobbing a little now and then,
     'we went to school in the sea. The master was an old
     Turtle--we used to call him Tortoise--'

     'Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn't one?' Alice
     asked.

     'We called him Tortoise because he taught us,' said
     the Mock Turtle angrily. 'Really you are very dull!'

     'I only took the regular course.'

     'What was that?' inquired Alice.

     'Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,' the 
     Mock Turtle replied; 'and then the different branches
     of Arithmetic--Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and
     Derision.'

     'I never heard of "Uglification",' Alice ventured to say.
     'What is it?'

     The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise. 'Never
     heard of uglifying!' it exclaimed. 'You know what to
     beautify is, I suppose?'

     'Yes,' said Alice doubtfully: 'it means -- to -- make -- 
     anything -- prettier.'

     'Well, then,' the Gryphon went on, 'if you don't know 
     what to uglify is, you are a simpleton.'

     Alice did not feel encouraged to ask any more 
     questions about it: so she turned to the Mock Turtle,
     and said 'What else had you to learn?'

     'Well, there was Mystery,' the Mock Turtle replied,
     counting off the subjects on his flappers--'Mystery,
     ancient and modern, with Seaography: then Drawling --
     the Drawling-master was an old conger-eel, that used
     to come once a week: he taught us Drawling, 
     Stretching, and Fainting in Coils.'

     'What was that like?' said Alice.

     'Well, I ca'n't show it you, myself,' the Mock Turtle 
     said. 'I'm too stiff. And the Gryphon never learnt it.'

     'Hadn't time,' said the Gryphon: 'I went to the Classical
     master, though. He was an old crab, he was.'

     'I never went to him,' the Mock Turtle said with a sigh. 
     'He taught Laughing and Grief, they used to say.'

     'So he did, so he did,' said the Gryphon, sighing in his
     turn; and both creatures hid their faces in their paws.

     'And how many hours a day did you do lessons?' said
     Alice, in a hurry to change the subject.

     'Ten hours the first day,' said the Mock Turtle: 'nine
     the next, and so on.'

     'What a curious plan!' exclaimed Alice.

     'That's the reason they're called lessons,' the Gryphon
     remarked: 'because they lessen from day to day.'

     This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought it 
     over a little before she made her next remark. 'Then
     the eleventh day must have been a holiday?'

     'Of course it was,' said the Mock Turtle.

     'And how did you manage on the twelfth?' Alice went
     on eagerly.

     'That's enough about lessons,' the Gryphon interrupted
     in a very decided tone. 'Tell her something about the 
     games now.'

     The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. 'Where shall I
     begin, please your Majesty?' he asked.

     'Begin at the beginning,' the King said, very gravely,
     'and go on till you come to the end: then stop.'
 

     "The time has come," the Walrus said,
     "To talk of many things:
     Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
     Of cabbages--and kings--
     And why the sea is boiling hot--
     And whether pigs have wings."
 

     'There's glory for you!'

      'I don't know what you mean by "glory",' Alice said.

     Humpty Dumpty smiled contemptuously. 'Of course
     you don't -- till I tell you. I meant "there's a nice
     knock-down argument for you!"'

     'But "glory" doesn't mean "a nice knock-down 
     argument",' Alice objected.

     'When I use a word,' Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a
     scornful tone, 'it means just what I choose it to mean --
     neither more nor less.'

     'The question is,' said Alice, 'whether you can make
     words mean so many different things.'

     'The question is,' said Humpty Dumpty, 'which is to
     be master -- that's all.'

     'But really you should have a lady's-maid!'

     'I'm sure I'll take you with pleasure!' the Queen said.
     'Twopence a week and jam every other day.'

     Alice couldn't help laughing, as she said 'I don't want 
     you to hire me -- and I don't care for jam.'

     'It's very good jam,' said the Queen.

     'Well, I don't want any to-day, at any rate.'

     'You couldn't have it if you did want it,' the Queen 
     said. 'The rule is, jam to-morrow and jam yesterday -- 
     but never jam to-day.'

     'It must come sometimes to "jam to-day",' Alice 
     objected.

     'No, it ca'n't, said the Queen. 'It's jam every other 
     day: to-day isn't any other day, you know.'

     'I ca'n't believe that!' said Alice.

     'Ca'n't you?' the Queen said in a pitying tone. 'Try 
     again: draw a long breath, and shut your eyes.'

     Alice laughed. 'There's no use trying,' she said 'one 
     ca'n't believe impossible things.'

     'I daresay you haven't had much practice,' said the
     Queen. 'When I was your age, I always did it for
     half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as 
     many as six impossible things before breakfast.

     'Where do you come from?' said the Red Queen.
     'And where are you going? Look up, speak nicely, 
     and don't twiddle your fingers all the time.'

     Alice attended to all these directions, and explained, 
     as well as she could, that she had lost her way.

     'I don't know what you mean by your way,' said the
     Queen: 'all the ways about here belong to me--but 
     why did you come out here at all?' she added in a 
     kinder tone. 'Curtsey while you're thinking what to 
     say. It saves time.'

     'I see nobody on the road,' said Alice.

     'I only wish I had such eyes,' the King remarked in a
     fretful tone. 'To be able to see Nobody! And at this
     distance too! Why, it's as much as I can do to see 
     real people, by this light!'

     'There's nothing like eating hay when you're faint,'
     he remarked to her, as he munched away.

     'I should think throwing cold water over you would
     be better,' Alice suggested: '-- or some sal-volatile.'

     'I didn't say there was nothing better,' the King 
     replied. 'I said there was nothing like it.' Which Alice 
     did not venture to deny.

     'Who did you pass on the road?' the King went on, 
     holding out his hand to the Messenger for some hay.

     'Nobody,' said the Messenger.

     'Quite right,' said the King: 'this young lady saw him 
     too. So of course Nobody walks slower than you.'

     'I do my best,' the Messenger said in a sullen tone.
     'I'm sure nobody walks much faster than I do!'

     'He ca'n't do that,' said the King, 'or else he'd have
     been here first.

     'Please, would you tell me--' she began, looking 
     timidly at the Red Queen.

     'Speak when you're spoken to!' the Queen sharply
     interrupted her.

     'But if everybody obeyed that rule,' said Alice, who
     was always ready for a little argument, 'and if you
     only spoke when you were spoken to, and the other
     person always waited for you to begin, you see 
     nobody would ever say anything, so that--'

     'Ridiculous!' cried the Queen.

     'Can you do Addition?' the White Queen asked.
     'What's one and one and one and one and one 
     and one and one and one and one and one?'

     'I don't know,' said Alice. 'I lost count.'

     'She ca'n't do Addition,' the Red Queen interrupted, 
     'Can you do Subtraction? Take nine from eight.'

     'Nine from eight I ca'n't, you know,' Alice replied
     very readily: 'but--'

     'She ca'n't do Subtraction,' said the White Queen.
     'Can you do Division? Divide a loaf by a knife--what's 
     the answer to that?'

     'I suppose--' Alice was beginning, but the Red Queen
     answered for her. 'Bread-and-butter, of course. Try
     another Subtraction sum. Take a bone from a dog: 
     what remains?'

     Alice considered. 'The bone wouldn't remain, of 
     course, if I took it--and the dog wouldn't remain: it 
     would come to bite me--and I'm sure I shouldn't 
     remain!'

     'Then you think nothing would remain?' said the Red
     Queen.

     'I think that's the answer.'

     'Wrong, as usual,' said the Red Queen: 'the dog's 
     temper would remain.'

     'But I don't see how--'

     'Why, look here!' the Red Queen cried. 'The dog
     would lose its temper, wouldn't it?'

     'Perhaps it would,' Alice replied cautiously.

     'Then if the dog went away, its temper would remain!'
     the Queen exclaimed triumphantly.

     Alice said, as gravely as she could, 'They might go
     different ways.' But she couldn't help thinking to 
     herself 'What dreadful nonsense we are talking!'