Alice—They are not! The only thing the least bit like music that I’ve heard since I came here is that measly little song the Spankety Man sings every Friday.
Ecila—That isn’t music! That queer noise he makes! And all the Moms know loora-laddy. I should think you’d call that music.
Alice—Well, I don’t. And I don’t even know what time of year it is. Your days and nights are so mixed up that one can’t keep track of them at all. We shan’t even know when the Christmas holidays come.
Knarf—Yes, you will, for they’re here now, just as soon as Gother Moose gets here.
Derf—(entering and seating himself in the overturned table) Gother Moose is a-coming, now.
Alice—Mother Goose, I bet it is. Is she real?
Ecila—Why shouldn’t she be?
Alice—Why, our Mother Goose is just a book of rhymes and jingles—sort of stories, you know.
Derf—Dat’s what Gother Moose does—tells stories. Here her comes.