The players all played at once without waiting for turns, quarrelling all the

while, and fighting for the hedgehogs; and in a very short time the Queen was

in a furious passion, and went stamping about, and shouting “Off with his

head!” or “Off with her head!” about once in a minute.


Alice began to feel very uneasy: to be sure, she had not as yet had any dispute

with the Queen, but she knew that it might happen any minute, “and

then,” thought she, “what would become of me? They’re

dreadfully fond of beheading people here; the great wonder is, that

there’s any one left alive!”


She was looking about for some way of escape, and wondering whether she could

get away without being seen, when she noticed a curious appearance in the air:

it puzzled her very much at first, but, after watching it a minute or two, she

made it out to be a grin, and she said to herself “It’s the

Cheshire Cat: now I shall have somebody to talk to.”


“How are you getting on?” said the Cat, as soon as there was mouth

enough for it to speak with.


Alice waited till the eyes appeared, and then nodded. “It’s no use

speaking to it,” she thought, “till its ears have come, or at least

one of them.” In another minute the whole head appeared, and then Alice

put down her flamingo, and began an account of the game, feeling very glad she

had someone to listen to her. The Cat seemed to think that there was enough of

it now in sight, and no more of it appeared.


“I don’t think they play at all fairly,” Alice began, in

rather a complaining tone, “and they all quarrel so dreadfully one

can’t hear oneself speak—and they don’t seem to have any

rules in particular; at least, if there are, nobody attends to them—and

you’ve no idea how confusing it is all the things being alive; for

instance, there’s the arch I’ve got to go through next walking

about at the other end of the ground—and I should have croqueted the