itself out again, so that altogether, for the first minute or two, it was as

much as she could do to hold it.


As soon as she had made out the proper way of nursing it, (which was to twist

it up into a sort of knot, and then keep tight hold of its right ear and left

foot, so as to prevent its undoing itself,) she carried it out into the open

air. “If I don’t take this child away with me,” thought

Alice, “they’re sure to kill it in a day or two: wouldn’t it

be murder to leave it behind?” She said the last words out loud, and the

little thing grunted in reply (it had left off sneezing by this time).

“Don’t grunt,” said Alice; “that’s not at all a

proper way of expressing yourself.”


The baby grunted again, and Alice looked very anxiously into its face to see

what was the matter with it. There could be no doubt that it had a very

turn-up nose, much more like a snout than a real nose; also its eyes were

getting extremely small for a baby: altogether Alice did not like the look of

the thing at all. “But perhaps it was only sobbing,” she thought,

and looked into its eyes again, to see if there were any tears.


No, there were no tears. “If you’re going to turn into a pig, my

dear,” said Alice, seriously, “I’ll have nothing more to do

with you. Mind now!” The poor little thing sobbed again (or grunted, it

was impossible to say which), and they went on for some while in silence.


Alice was just beginning to think to herself, “Now, what am I to do with

this creature when I get it home?” when it grunted again, so violently,

that she looked down into its face in some alarm. This time there could be

no mistake about it: it was neither more nor less than a pig, and she

felt that it would be quite absurd for her to carry it further.


So she set the little creature down, and felt quite relieved to see it trot

away quietly into the wood. “If it had grown up,” she said to