The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and then said,

“It was a treacle-well.”


“There’s no such thing!” Alice was beginning very angrily,

but the Hatter and the March Hare went “Sh! sh!” and the Dormouse

sulkily remarked, “If you can’t be civil, you’d better finish

the story for yourself.”


“No, please go on!” Alice said very humbly; “I won’t

interrupt again. I dare say there may be one.”


“One, indeed!” said the Dormouse indignantly. However, he consented

to go on. “And so these three little sisters—they were learning to

draw, you know—”


“What did they draw?” said Alice, quite forgetting her promise.


“Treacle,” said the Dormouse, without considering at all this time.


“I want a clean cup,” interrupted the Hatter: “let’s

all move one place on.”


He moved on as he spoke, and the Dormouse followed him: the March Hare moved

into the Dormouse’s place, and Alice rather unwillingly took the place of

the March Hare. The Hatter was the only one who got any advantage from the

change: and Alice was a good deal worse off than before, as the March Hare had

just upset the milk-jug into his plate.


Alice did not wish to offend the Dormouse again, so she began very cautiously:

“But I don’t understand. Where did they draw the treacle

from?”


“You can draw water out of a water-well,” said the Hatter;

“so I should think you could draw treacle out of a treacle-well—eh,

stupid?”


“But they were in the well,” Alice said to the Dormouse, not

choosing to notice this last remark.


“Of course they were,” said the Dormouse; “—well

in.”


This answer so confused poor Alice, that she let the Dormouse go on for some

time without interrupting it.


“They were learning to draw,” the Dormouse went on, yawning and

rubbing its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy; “and they drew all

manner of things—everything that begins with an M—”


“Why with an M?” said Alice.


“Why not?” said the March Hare.