It was just a spot to lie down in and doze, stretched upon the moss, with eyes shut, letting the soft light rest upon the closed eyelids.
Rest! rest! rest! was murmured in the air by the water, by the trees.
Presently Kitty heard a most extraordinary sound that rose slowly, then fell gradually. It filled the wood—it was all around her. She paused to listen. Was it the blowing of a gigantic pair of hidden bellows? No, it could not be. She went on cautiously, holding her head a little on one side. It must be the wind soughing through the branches of the trees; but as not a leaf was stirring, or a twig moving, Kitty came to the conclusion it was not the wind. What could it be? Kitty listened with all her ears, and she began to distinguish that there was quite a chorus of sounds. There were impressive rumbles and quick, short pants and deep mutterings as of wild beasts going on together. Just as she made this discovery she gave a jump, for all the noises ended in a snort, as of some fierce and furious animal. In a moment, all around, Kitty perceived the glare of eyes gazing at her. She saw nothing but eyes—no noses or mouths—nothing but eyes. Terribly wide awake, these eyes gazed at her with an aggressive stare. Kitty felt frightened and apologetic. She was about to drop a curtsey, when, just as suddenly as they had appeared, the eyes closed and vanished. The effect was sudden as though a thousand candles had gone out together. Again the panting, puffing sound began around her. “Well, it is a curious place,” she said; “I wonder what it is called.”
“Snore Corner—Sn—ore Corner,” said a voice quite close to her. It seemed like some one talking in sleep, so monotonous was it. Kitty came to a standstill. She peered about her. Then she sprang back, for she nearly struck against something that at first she fancied was an immense bat. It was hanging with its head downward from the branch of a neighboring tree. Looking closer Kitty saw it was not a bat, but a dwarf with round, green, blinking eyes, and dressed in a mouse-colored suit. She was not sure whether it was a human creature; but as it was hanging upside down her perplexity was not to be wondered at. It blinked its green eyes and gazed so steadily and vacantly at her that Kitty was not quite sure that it saw her. “Why do you hang down like that?” she timidly asked.
“One of us must keep awake,” answered the creature in a sleepy voice. “It’s ever so much easier to keep one’s eyes open with one’s head down. Try it.”
“Oh, but I feel no difficulty in keeping my eyes open,” said Kitty briskly, “unless I am very sleepy. But doesn’t it make your head ache?” she added thoughtfully.
“I am in a haze. You feel no ache in a haze!” said the creature, blinking solemnly. “All in a jumble and a haze—nothing like it—try it.”
“Indeed, that is about the very last thing I’d care to be in; in a jumble and a haze,” said Kitty indignantly.
“They would expect nothing of you if you were,” said the hanging-down creature; “for if they asked you a question in history, very likely grammar would come up, and for arithmetic perhaps you’d give them geography. Then they would give up asking you lessons. They would say that the lessons got all in a jumble.”