`Not at all,' said Alice:  `she's so extremely--'  Just then

she noticed that the Queen was close behind her, listening:  so

she went on, `--likely to win, that it's hardly worth while

finishing the game.'

  The Queen smiled and passed on.

  `Who ARE you talking to?' said the King, going up to Alice, and

looking at the Cat's head with great curiosity.

  `It's a friend of mine--a Cheshire Cat,' said Alice:  `allow me

to introduce it.'

  `I don't like the look of it at all,' said the King:

`however, it may kiss my hand if it likes.'

  `I'd rather not,' the Cat remarked.

  `Don't be impertinent,' said the King, `and don't look at me

like that!'  He got behind Alice as he spoke.

  `A cat may look at a king,' said Alice.  `I've read that in

some book, but I don't remember where.'

  `Well, it must be removed,' said the King very decidedly, and

he called the Queen, who was passing at the moment, `My dear!  I

wish you would have this cat removed!'

  The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great

or small.  `Off with his head!' she said, without even looking

round.

  `I'll fetch the executioner myself,' said the King eagerly, and

he hurried off.

  Alice thought she might as well go back, and see how the game

was going on, as she heard the Queen's voice in the distance,

screaming with passion.  She had already heard her sentence three

of the players to be executed for having missed their turns, and

she did not like the look of things at all, as the game was in

such confusion that she never knew whether it was her turn or

not.  So she went in search of her hedgehog.

  The hedgehog was engaged in a fight with another hedgehog,

which seemed to Alice an excellent opportunity for croqueting one

of them with the other:  the only difficulty was, that her

flamingo was gone across to the other side of the garden, where

Alice could see it trying in a helpless sort of way to fly up

into a tree.

  By the time she had caught the flamingo and brought it back,

the fight was over, and both the hedgehogs were out of sight:

`but it doesn't matter much,' thought Alice, `as all the arches

are gone from this side of the ground.'  So she tucked it away

under her arm, that it might not escape again, and went back for

a little more conversation with her friend.

  When she got back to the Cheshire Cat, she was surprised to

find quite a large crowd collected round it:  there was a dispute

going on between the executioner, the King, and the Queen, who

were all talking at once, while all the rest were quite silent,

and looked very uncomfortable.

  The moment Alice appeared, she was appealed to by all three to

settle the question, and they repeated their arguments to her,

though, as they all spoke at once, she found it very hard indeed

to make out exactly what they said.

  The executioner's argument was, that you couldn't cut off a

head unless there was a body to cut it off from:  that he had

never had to do such a thing before, and he wasn't going to begin

at HIS time of life.

  The King's argument was, that anything that had a head could be

beheaded, and that you weren't to talk nonsense.

  The Queen's argument was, that if something wasn't done about

it in less than no time she'd have everybody executed, all round.

(It was this last remark that had made the whole party look so

grave and anxious.)

  Alice could think of nothing else to say but `It belongs to the

Duchess:  you'd better ask HER about it.'

  `She's in prison,' the Queen said to the executioner:  `fetch

her here.'  And the executioner went off like an arrow.

   The Cat's head began fading away the moment he was gone, and,

by the time he had come back with the Dutchess, it had entirely

disappeared; so the King and the executioner ran wildly up and down

looking for it, while the rest of the party went back to the game.

                           CHAPTER IX

                     The Mock Turtle's Story

  `You can't think how glad I am to see you again, you dear old

thing!' said the Duchess, as she tucked her arm affectionately

into Alice's, and they walked off together.

  Alice was very glad to find her in such a pleasant temper, and

thought to herself that perhaps it was only the pepper that had

made her so savage when they met in the kitchen.

  `When I'M a Duchess,' she said to herself, (not in a very

hopeful tone though), `I won't have any pepper in my kitchen AT

ALL.  Soup does very well without--Maybe it's always pepper that

makes people hot-tempered,' she went on, very much pleased at

having found out a new kind of rule, `and vinegar that makes them

sour--and camomile that makes them bitter--and--and barley-sugar

and such things that make children sweet-tempered.  I only wish

people knew that:  then they wouldn't be so stingy about it, you

know--'

  She had quite forgotten the Duchess by this time, and was a

little startled when she heard her voice close to her ear.

`You're thinking about something, my dear, and that makes you

forget to talk.  I can't tell you just now what the moral of that

is, but I shall remember it in a bit.'

  `Perhaps it hasn't one,' Alice ventured to remark.

  `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 putting things!'

  `It's a mineral, I THINK,' said Alice.

  `Of course it is,' said the Duchess, who seemed ready to agree

to everything that Alice said; `there's a large mustard-mine near

here.  And the moral of that is--"The more there is of mine, the

less there is of yours."'

  `Oh, I know!' exclaimed Alice, who had not attended to this

last remark, `it's a vegetable.  It doesn't look like one, but it

is.'

  `I quite agree with you,' said the Duchess; `and the moral of

that is--"Be what you would seem to be"--or if you'd like it put

more simply--"Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than

what it might appear to others that what you were or might have

been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared

to them to be otherwise."'

  `I think I should understand that better,' Alice said very

politely, `if I had it written down:  but I can't quite follow it

as you say it.'

  `That's nothing to what I could say if I chose,' the Duchess

replied, in a pleased tone.