"Where are we?" asked Alice.
"Going on," answered the fairy.
Alice, not liking the reply, said,--
"I want to go home."
"Good-bye, then!" answered the fairy.
Alice looked round. A wide, hilly country lay all about them. She could
not even tell from what quarter they had come.
"I must go with you, I see," she said.
Before they reached the bottom, they were walking over the loveliest
meadow-grass. A little stream went cantering down beside them, without
channel or bank, sometimes running between the blades, sometimes
sweeping the grass all one way under it. And it made a great babbling
for such a little stream and such a smooth course.
Gradually the slope grew gentler, and the stream flowed more softly and
spread out wider. At length they came to a wood of long, straight
poplars, growing out of the water, for the stream ran into the wood,
and there stretched out into a lake. Alice thought they could go no
farther; but Peaseblossom led her straight on, and they walked through.
It was now dark; but everything under the water gave out a pale, quiet
light. There were deep pools here and there, but there was no mud, or
frogs, or water-lizards, or eels. All the bottom was pure, lovely
grass, brilliantly green. Down the banks of the pools she saw, all
under water, primroses and violets and pimpernels. Any flower she
wished to see she had only to look for, and she was sure to find it.
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