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                         Pig and Pepper    
     For a minute or two she stood looking at  the  house,  and  wondering
what to do next, when suddenly a footman in livery came running out of the
wood - (she considered him to be a  footman  because  he  was  in  livery:
otherwise, judging by his face only, she would have called him a  fish)  -
and rapped loudly at the door with 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  their
heads. She felt very curious to know what it was all about,  and  crept  a
little way out of the wood to listen.
     The Fish-Footman began by  producing  from  under  his  arm  a  great
letter, nearly as large as himself, and this he handed over to the  other,
saying, in a solemn tone, - For the Duchess. An invitation from the  Queen
to play croquet. - The Frog-Footman repeated, in  the  same  solemn  tone,
only changing the order of the words  a  little,  -  From  the  Queen.  An
invitation for the Duchess to play croquet.
     Then they both bowed low, and their curls got entangled together.
     Alice laughed so much at this, that she had to run back into the wood
for fear  of  their  hearing  her;  and  when  she  next  peeped  out  the
Fish-Footman was gone, and the other was sitting on the  ground  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, - and that for  two  reasons.  First,
because I'm on the same side of the door as  you  are;  secondly,  because
they're making such a noise inside, no one could possibly hear you. -  And
certainly there was a  most  extraordinary  noise  going  on  within  -  a
constant howling and sneezing, and every now and then a great crash, as if
a dish or 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  went  on
without attending to her, - if we had the door between us.  For  instance,
if you were INSIDE, you might knock, and I could let you out, you know.  -
He was looking up into the sky all the time  he  was  speaking,  and  this
Alice thought decidedly uncivil. - But perhaps he can't  help  it,  -  she
said to herself; - his eyes are so VERY nearly at the top of his head. But
at any rate he might answer 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 plate came skimming  out,
straight at the Footman's head: it just grazed  his  nose,  and  broke  to
pieces against one of the trees behind 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  the  first
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  the  creatures
argue. It's enough to drive one crazy!
     The Footman seemed to think this a good opportunity for repeating his
remark, with variations. - I shall sit here, - he said, - 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 of smoke from  one  end  to
the other: the Duchess was sitting on a three-legged stool in the  middle,
nursing a baby; the cook was leaning  over  the  fire,  stirring  a  large
cauldron which seemed to be full of soup.
     - There's certainly too much pepper in that soup!  -  Alice  said  to
herself, as well as she could for sneezing.
     There was certainly too much of it  in  the  air.  Even  the  Duchess
sneezed occasionally; and as for the baby, it  was  sneezing  and  howling
alternately without a moment's pause. The only things in the kitchen  that
did not sneeze, were the cook, and a large cat which was  sitting  on  the
hearth and grinning from ear to ear.
     - Please would you tell me, - said Alice, a little timidly,  for  she
was not quite sure whether it was good manners for her to speak  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 Alice quite jumped;  but
she saw in another moment that it was addressed to the baby,  and  not  to
her, so she took courage, and went on again:
     I didn't know that Cheshire cats always grinned; in  fact,  I  didn'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 thought it  would  be  as
well to introduce some other subject of conversation. While she was trying
to fix on one, the cook took the cauldron of soup off  the  fire,  and  at
once set to work throwing 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 when they  hit
her; and the  baby  was  howling  so  much  already,  that  it  was  quite
impossible to say whether the blows hurt it or not.
     - Oh, PLEASE mind what you're doing! - cried Alice,  jumping  up  and
down in an agony of terror. - Oh, there goes his PRECIOUS nose;  -  as  an
unusually large saucepan flew close by it, and very nearly carried it off.
     - If everybody minded their own business, - the  Duchess  said  in  a
hoarse growl, - the world would go round a deal faster than it does.
     - Which would NOT be an advantage, - said Alice, who felt  very  glad
to get an opportunity of showing off a little of  her  knowledge.  -  Just
think of what work it would make with the day and night! You see the earth
takes twenty-four hours to turn round on its axis
     - Talking of axes, - said the Duchess, - chop  off  her  head!  Alice
glanced rather anxiously at the cook, to see if  she  meant  to  take  the
hint; but the cook was busily stirring the soup,  and  seemed  not  to  be
listening, so she went on again: - Twenty-four hours, I THINK;  or  is  it
twelve? I
     - Oh, don't bother ME, - said the Duchess;  -  I  never  could  abide
figures! - And with that she began nursing her child again, singing a sort
of lullaby to it as she did so, and giving it a violent 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.     
    (In which the cook and the baby joined):     
                 - Wow! wow! wow!     
     While the Duchess sang the second verse of the song, she kept tossing
the baby violently up and down, and the poor little thing howled so,  that
Alice could hardly hear the words:
         - I speak severely to my boy,    
          I beat him when he sneezes;    
        For he can thoroughly enjoy    
          The pepper when he pleases!     
                 - Wow! wow! wow!     
     - Here! you may nurse it a bit, if you like! - the  Duchess  said  to
Alice, flinging the baby at her as she spoke. - I must go and get ready to
play croquet with the Queen, - and she hurried out of the 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 all directions, -  just
like a star-fish, - thought Alice. The poor little 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 much as 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 keep tight hold of its  right
ear and left foot, so as to prevent its undoing itself,)  she  carried  it
out into the open air. - IF I don't  take  this  child  away  with  me,  -
thought Alice, - they're sure to kill it in a day or two: wouldn't  it  be
murder to leave it behind? - She said the last words  out  loud,  and  the
little thing grunted in reply (it had left off sneezing by this  time).  -
Don't grunt, - said Alice; - that's not at all a proper way of  expressing
     The baby grunted again, and Alice looked very anxiously into its face
to see what was the matter with it. There could be no doubt that it had  a
VERY turn-up nose, much more like a snout than a real nose; also its  eyes
were getting extremely small for a baby: altogether Alice did not like the
look of the thing at all. -  But  perhaps  it  was  only  sobbing,  -  she
thought, and looked into 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  do  with  you.
Mind now! - The poor  little  thing  sobbed  again  (or  grunted,  it  was
impossible to say which), and they went on for some while in silence.
     Alice was just beginning to think to herself, - Now, what am I to  do
with this creature when I get  it  home?  -  when  it  grunted  again,  so
violently, that she looked down into its face in  some  alarm.  This  time
there could be NO mistake about it: it was neither more nor  less  than  a
pig, and she felt that it would be  quite  absurd  for  her  to  carry  it
     So she set the little creature down, and felt quite relieved  to  see
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 began thinking over other children  she
knew, who might do very well as pigs, and was just saying to herself, - if
one only knew the right way to change them when she was a little  startled
by seeing the 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 great many teeth, so she  felt
that it ought to be treated with respect.
     - 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
     - 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
     Alice felt that this could  not  be  denied,  so  she  tried  another
question. - 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 grant 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.
     - I call it purring, not growling, - said Alice.
     - Call it what you like, - said the Cat. - Do you play  croquet  with
the Queen to-day?
     - I should like it very much, - said Alice,  -  but  I  haven't  been
invited yet.
     - You'll see me there, - said the Cat, and vanished.  Alice  was  not
much surprised at this, she was getting so used to queer things happening.
While she was looking at the place where it had been, it suddenly appeared
     - By-the-bye, what became of the baby? - said the Cat. -  I'd  nearly
forgotten to ask.
     - It turned into a pig, - Alice quietly said, just as if it had  come
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 it  did  not  appear,
and after a minute or two she walked on in  the  direction  in  which  the
March Hare was said to live. - I've  seen  hatters  before,  she  said  to
herself; - the March Hare will be much the most interesting,  and  perhaps
as this is May it won't be raving mad - at least not so mad as it  was  in
March. - As she said this, she looked up, and there  was  the  Cat  again,
sitting on a branch of a tree.
     - Did you say pig, or fig? - said the Cat.
     - I said pig, - replied  Alice;  -  and  I  wish  you  wouldn't  keep
appearing and vanishing so suddenly: you make on quite giddy.
     - All right, - said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite  slowly,
beginning with the end of the  tail,  and  ending  with  the  grin,  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 ever say in my life!
     She had not gone much farther before she came in sight of  the  house
of the March Hare: she thought it must be the  right  house,  because  the
chimneys were shaped like ears and the roof was thatched with fur. It  was
so large a house, that she did not like to go nearer till she had  nibbled
some more of the lefthand bit of mushroom, and raised herself to about two
feet high: even then she walked up towards it rather  timidly,  saying  to
herself - Suppose it should be raving mad after all!  I  almost  wish  I'd
gone to see the Hatter instead!

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