Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister
on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had
peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures
or conversations in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought
Alice, “without pictures or conversation?”
So she was considering, in her own mind (as well as she could,
for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the
pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of
getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit
with pink eyes ran close by her.
There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice
think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to
itself “Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!” (when she thought
it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have
wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but
when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket,
and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet,
for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a
rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of
it, and, burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it,
and was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under
the hedge.
In another moment down went Alice after it, never once
considering how in the world she was to get out again.
The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and
then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment
to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling
down what seemed to be a very deep well.
Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she
had plenty of time as she went down to look about her, and to
wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down
and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see
anything: then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticedanything: then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed
that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves: here and
there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar
from one of the shelves as she passed: it was labelled “ORANGE
MARMALADE,” but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did
not like to drop the jar, for fear of killing somebody underneath,
so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past
it.
“Well!” thought Alice to herself. “After such a fall as this, I
shall think nothing of tumbling down-stairs! How brave they’ll all
think me at home! Why, I wouldn’t say anything about it, even if I
fell off the top of the house!” (Which was very likely true.)
Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end? “I wonder
how many miles I’ve fallen by this time?” she said aloud. “I must
be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that
would be four thousand miles down, I think—” (for, you see, Alice
had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the
school-room, and though this was not a very good opportunity for
showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her,
still it was good practice to say it over) “—yes, that’s about the
right distance—but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I’ve
got to?” (Alice had no idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either,
but thought they were nice grand words to say.)
Presently she began again. “I wonder if I shall fall right
through the earth! How funny it’ll seem to come out among the
people that walk with their heads downwards! The antipathies, I
think—” (she was rather glad there was no one listening, this time,
as it didn’t sound at all the right word) “—but I shall have to ask
them what the name of the country is, you know. Please, Ma’am, is
this New Zealand? Or Australia?” (and she tried to curtsey as she
spoke—fancy, curtseying as you’re falling through the air! Do you
think you could manage it?) “And what an ignorant little girlthink you could manage it?) “And what an ignorant little girl
she’ll think me for asking! No, it’ll never do to ask: perhaps I
shall see it written up somewhere.”
Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon
began talking again. “Dinah’ll miss me very much to-night, I should
think!” (Dinah was the cat.) “I hope they’ll remember her saucer of
milk at tea-time. Dinah, my dear! I wish you were down here with
me! There are no mice in the air, I’m afraid, but you might catch a
bat, and that’s very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats,
I wonder?” And here Alice began to get rather sleepy, and went on
saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, “Do cats eat bats? Do
cats eat bats?” and sometimes “Do bats eat cats?”, for, you see, as
she couldn’t answer either question, it didn’t much matter which
way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just
begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and
was saying to her, very earnestly, “Now, Dinah, tell me the truth:
did you ever eat a bat?” when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came
upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.
Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a
moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead: before her was
another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight,
hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went
Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it
turned a corner, “Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it’s getting!”
She was close behind it when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit
was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall,
which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.
There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked;
and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other,
trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how
she was ever to get out again.
Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of