VI--PIG AND PEPPER

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.