| (Alice is having an identity crisis in the strange underground world, and tries to reassure herself by reciting a poem she had learned in school.)
"I'll try and say How doth the little – " and she crossed her hands on her lap as if she were saying lessons, and began to repeat it, but her voice sounded hoarse and strange, and the words did not come the same as they used to do: –
How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!
How cheerfully he seems to grin,
How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in
With gently smiling jaws!
"I'm sure those are not the right words," said poor Alice, and her eyes filled with tears again . . . |
