She had just succeeded in curving it down into a graceful zigzag, and was going to dive in among the leaves, which she found to be nothing but the tops of the trees under which she had been wandering, when a sharp hiss made her draw back in a hurry: a large pigeon had flown into her face, and was beating her violently with its wings. 'Serpent!' screamed the Pigeon. 'I'm NOT a serpent!' said Alice indignantly. 'Let me alone!' 'Serpent, I say again!' repeated the Pigeon, but in a more subdued.

Queen's shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd boy--and the sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard's slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea-pigs, filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable Mock Turtle. So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality--the grass would be only rustling in the wind, and the pool.

March Hare said to itself in a whisper.) 'That would be grand, certainly,' said Alice thoughtfully: 'but then--I shouldn't be hungry for it, you know.' 'Not at first, perhaps,' said the Hatter: 'but you could keep it to half-past one as long as you liked.' 'Is that the way YOU manage?' Alice asked. The Hatter shook his head mournfully. 'Not I!' he replied. 'We quarrelled last March--just before HE went mad, you know--' (pointing with his tea spoon at the March Hare,) '--it was at the great.