He moved on as he spoke, and the Dor-mouse moved in-to his place; the
March Hare moved in-to the Dor-mouse's place and Al-ice, none too well
pleased, took the place of the March Hare. The Hat-ter was the on-ly one
to get an-y good from the change; and Al-ice was a good deal worse off,
as the March Hare had up-set the milk-jug in-to his plate.
"Now, for your sto-ry," the March Hare said to Al-ice.
"I'm sure I don't know,"--Alice be-gan, "I--I don't think--"
"Then you shouldn't talk," said the Hat-ter.
[Illustration]
This was more than Al-ice could stand; so she got up and walked off, and
though she looked back once or twice and half hoped they would call
af-ter her, they didn't seem to know that she was gone. The last time
she saw them, they were trying to put the poor Dor-mouse head first
in-to the tea-pot.
"Well, I'll not go there a-gain," said Al-ice as she picked her way
through the wood. "It's the dull-est tea-par-ty I was ev-er at in all my
life."
As Al-ice said this, she saw that one of the trees had a door that led
right in-to it. "That's strange!" she thought; "but I haven't seen a
thing to-day that isn't strange. I think I may as well go in at once."
And in she went.
Once more she found her-self in a long hall, and close to the lit-tle
glass stand. She took up the lit-tle key and un-locked the door that led
to the gar-den. Then she set to work to eat some of the mush-room which
she still had with her.
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