Tut, tut, child! said the Duchess. Everything s got a moral, if only
you can find it. And she squeezed herself up closer to Alice s side as
she spoke.
Alice did not much like keeping so close to her: first, because the
Duchess was _very_ ugly; and secondly, because she was exactly the
right height to rest her chin upon Alice s shoulder, and it was an
uncomfortably sharp chin. However, she did not like to be rude, so she
bore it as well as she could.
The game s going on rather better now, she said, by way of keeping up
the conversation a little.
Tis so, said the Duchess: and the moral of that is Oh, tis love,
tis love, that makes the world go round!
Somebody said, Alice whispered, that it s done by everybody minding
their own business!
Ah, well! It means much the same thing, said the Duchess, digging her
sharp little chin into Alice s shoulder as she added, and the moral of
_that_ is Take care of the sense, and the sounds will take care of
themselves.
How fond she is of finding morals in things! Alice thought to
herself.
I dare say you re wondering why I don t put my arm round your waist,
the Duchess said after a pause: the reason is, that I m doubtful about
the temper of your flamingo. Shall I try the experiment?
He might bite, Alice cautiously replied, not feeling at all anxious
to have the experiment tried.
Very true, said the Duchess: flamingoes and mustard both bite. And
the moral of that is Birds of a feather flock together.
Only mustard isn t a bird, Alice remarked.
Right, as usual, said the Duchess: what a clear way you have of
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