"It must be a pret-ty dance," said Al-ice.
"Would you like to see some of it?" asked the Mock Tur-tle.
"Oh, yes," she said.
"Come, let's try the first part!" said the Mock Tur-tle to the Gry-phon.
"We can do it without lob-sters, you know. Which shall sing?"
"Oh, _you_ sing," said the Gry-phon. "I don't know the words."
So they danced round and round Al-ice, now and then tread-ing on her
toes when they passed too close. They waved their fore paws to mark the
time, while the Mock Tur-tle sang a queer kind of song, each verse of
which end-ed with these words:
"'Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?'"
"Thank you, it's a fine dance to watch," said Al-ice, glad that it was
o-ver at last.
"Now," said the Gry-phon, "tell us a-bout what you have seen and done in
your life."
"I could tell you of the strange things I have seen to-day," said
Al-ice, with some doubt as to their wish-ing to hear it.
"All right, go on," they both cried.
So Al-ice told them what she had been through that day, from the time
when she first saw the White Rab-bit. They came up quite close to her,
one on each side, and sat still till she got to the part where she tried
to say, "You are old, Fath-er Wil-liam," and the words all came wrong.
Then the Mock Tur-tle drew a long breath and said, "That's quite
strange!"
"It's all as strange as it can be," said the Gry-phon.
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