I ve heard something like it, said Alice.
It goes on, you know, the Hatter continued, in this way:
Up above the world you fly,
Like a tea-tray in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle
Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep
_Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle_ and went on so long that they
had to pinch it to make it stop.
Well, I d hardly finished the first verse, said the Hatter, when the
Queen jumped up and bawled out, He s murdering the time! Off with his
head!
How dreadfully savage! exclaimed Alice.
And ever since that, the Hatter went on in a mournful tone, he won t
do a thing I ask! It s always six o clock now.
A bright idea came into Alice s head. Is that the reason so many
tea-things are put out here? she asked.
Yes, that s it, said the Hatter with a sigh: it s always tea-time,
and we ve no time to wash the things between whiles.
Then you keep moving round, I suppose? said Alice.
Exactly so, said the Hatter: as the things get used up.
But what happens when you come to the beginning again? Alice ventured
to ask.
Suppose we change the subject, the March Hare interrupted, yawning.
I m getting tired of this. I vote the young lady tells us a story.
I m afraid I don t know one, said Alice, rather alarmed at the
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