Chapter: For a minute or two she stood looking at the house, when suddenly a
footman in livery came running out of the wood (judging by his face
only, she would have called him a fish)--and rapped loudly at the door
with his knuckles. It was opened by another footman in livery, with a
round face and large eyes like a frog.


The Fish-Footman began by producing from under his arm a great letter,
and this he handed over to the other, saying, in a solemn tone, "For the
Duchess. An invitation from the Queen to play croquet." The
Frog-Footman repeated, in the same solemn tone, "From the Queen. An
invitation for the Duchess to play croquet." Then they both bowed low
and their curls got entangled together.

When Alice next peeped out, the Fish-Footman was gone, and the other was
sitting on the ground near the door, staring stupidly up into the sky.
Alice went timidly up to the door and knocked.

"There's no sort of use in knocking," said the Footman, "and that for
two reasons. First, because I'm on the same side of the door as you are;
secondly, because they're making such a noise inside, no one could
possibly hear you." And certainly there _was_ a most extraordinary noise
going on within--a constant howling and sneezing, and every now and then
a great crash, as if a dish or kettle had been broken to pieces.

"How am I to get in?" asked Alice.

"_Are_ you to get in at all?" said the Footman. "That's the first
question, you know."

Alice opened the door and went in. The door led right into a large
kitchen, which was full of smoke from one end to the other; the Duchess
was sitting on a three-legged stool in the middle, nursing a baby; the
cook was leaning over the fire, stirring a large caldron which seemed to
be full of soup.

"There's certainly too much pepper in that soup!" Alice said to herself,
as well as she could for sneezing. Even the Duchess sneezed
occasionally; and as for the baby, it was sneezing and howling
alternately without a moment's pause. The only two creatures in the
kitchen that did _not_ sneeze were the cook and a large cat, which was
grinning from ear to ear.

"Please would you tell me," said Alice, a little timidly, "why your cat
grins like that?"

"It's a Cheshire-Cat," said the Duchess, "and that's why."

"I didn't know that Cheshire-Cats always grinned; in fact, I didn't know
that cats _could_ grin," said Alice.

"You don't know much," said the Duchess, "and that's a fact."

Just then the cook took the caldron of soup off the fire, and at once
set to work throwing everything within her reach at the Duchess and the
baby--the fire-irons came first; then followed a shower of saucepans,
plates and dishes. The Duchess took no notice of them, even when they
hit her, and the baby was howling so much already that it was quite
impossible to say whether the blows hurt it or not.

"Oh, _please_ mind what you're doing!" cried Alice, jumping up and down
in an agony of terror.

"Here! You may nurse it a bit, if you like!" the Duchess said to Alice,
flinging the baby at her as she spoke. "I must go and get ready to play
croquet with the Queen," and she hurried out of the room.

Alice caught the baby with some difficulty, as it was a queer-shaped
little creature and held out its arms and legs in all directions. "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.

"If you're going to turn into a pig, my dear," said Alice, "I'll have
nothing more to do with you. Mind now!"

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 Alice 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;
so she set the little creature down and felt quite relieved to see it
trot away quietly into the wood.

Alice was a little startled by seeing the Cheshire-Cat sitting on a
bough of a tree a few yards off. The Cat only grinned when it saw her.
"Cheshire-Puss," began Alice, rather timidly, "would you please tell me
which way I ought to go from here?"

"In _that_ direction," the Cat said, waving the right paw 'round, "lives
a Hatter; and in _that_ direction," waving the other paw, "lives a March
Hare. Visit either you like; they're both mad."

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.

"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat; "we're all mad here. Do you
play croquet with the Queen to-day?"

"I should like it very much," said Alice, "but I haven't been invited
yet."

"You'll see me there," said the Cat, and vanished.

Alice had not gone much farther before she came in sight of the house of
the March Hare; it was so large a house that she did not like to go near
till she had nibbled some more of the left-hand bit of mushroom.

 Alice, while still in the dense wood, comes upon a very small house which she uses her mushroom to shrink to the proportions of. From behind some brush she watches as a fish, dressed as a footman, delivers an invitation to a frog dressed as a footman. The business is transacted at the door of the small house. The invitation is from the Queen to the Duchess, and it invites the Duchess to a game of croquet. Alice approaches the door where the frog footman still stands and looks to get in, so she knock. But the frog, who is apparently in charge of that door, merely mocks her attempt at knocking because he is, after all, on the same side of the door as she. They engage in this paradoxical word play for a few lines until the door flies open and a dish shoots out toward the frog'' head. A raucous disturbance is going inside the house of the Duchess. Irritated, Alice walks into the house. Inside Alice finds the Duchess in the kitchen with a cook cooking soup and a crying baby. A grinning cat was at the Duchess' feet. The air is so full of pepper that everyone save the cat is sneezing, and the baby is crying loudly between sneezes. Alice asks why the cat is grinning and the Duchess says it is a Cheshire Cat, and then the Duchess calls the baby a Pig. In short, the Duchess is very rude to everyone. The cook then began to throw everything she could find at the Duchess and the baby. Alice is worried for the baby and says so. The Duchess calls for Alice's head to be chopped off. Nothing comes of that demand and so the Duchess returns to nursing the baby. She sings to it a sort of Anti-Lullaby where, at the end of each line, she shakes the baby violently. Then the Duchess flung the baby at Alice to nurse because she had to go and get ready to play croquet with the Queen. Alice decided that she must take the baby away, for to leave it would be murder. Then she discovered that it was, indeed, a pig. So, she let the pig go. Alice then decided that while that baby had been an awful baby, it turned out to be quite a handsome pig. She then began to ponder whether other awful children she knew would be better as pigs. Once the pig is gone Alice comes upon the Cheshire Cat in a tree and she asks him directions. The Cat says that anyway is a good as another and that no matter where Alice goes she will be among the mad. Wonderland is for mad people, and therefore Alice must be mad too, says the Cat. The Cat says: "A dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tale when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased and wag my tale when I'm angry. Therefore, I'm mad." The Cheshire Cat is here pointing out the odd paradox of being polite. That is, a sophisticated mind must act contrary to what is felt, or people will be getting offended. But, by the same token, politeness and civility is a kind of madness, or at least self-deception. Alice then marched off to the house of the March Hare. As she approached, she practiced her own form of polite self-deception by using her magic mushroom to transform herself into the appropriate size. This chapter is most importantly, again, about civil society. Alice is slowly internalizing her own judgment, able now to act as an adult when the matter is thrust upon her. That is, the clearly unfit condition of the baby's home prompts her to respond appropriately and remove the baby from harm's way. Now that Alice seems to have learned to act appropriately, and to tailor her size and demeanor to her surroundings, Alice has to deal with the complexity of adulthood. The Cheshire Cat has stepped in to point out that from now on, adulthood will be madness. That is, just because she can control herself and behave in a civil manner, that doesn't mean that all of the other adults will. Furthermore, the fact that they are behaving in a mad manner may not always be inappropriate. Things grow more complex as we move on, so don't get lost.

