"I wish that they should have tooken us, eh, Top-peen?" said the March Hare.
"You ought to say 'took', not 'tooken'," corrected Toppin. He felt rather cross, and disinclined to dwell on the subject of his wrongs.
"Ah, I am—what is your one word?—non-grammar-eesh?"
"No,—stupid," said Toppin.
"Uhéi!" This sorrowfully. Then, drawing nearer, "But no mind! I love you—oh, yes, I love you a great well, Top-peen! Shall we—shall we keess?"
Toppin shook his head decidedly, and jumped off the gate in a hurry.
"That's the second time since Sunday you've wanted to kiss, and I've told you over and over again I hate it, I don't like it! I never want to kiss! Now, do you understand?"
The March Hare was sadly afraid he did.
"If you were an English boy you'd never think of asking such a thing," Toppin went on, tramping up and down as he talked. He really did not want to be unkind to the Hare, but requests like this vexed him sorely. "Don't you see, Harey, there are some people who will kiss me, and I can't stop them—like Miss Turner, f'r instance." Miss Turner was the matron. "And then there are some I've got to kiss, like aunts and people. But one doesn't put in any extra, if one can help it. When I'm grown-up I sha'n't have to kiss anybody, and that'll be jolly. I shall never, never kiss at all, only shake hands or bow, like Escombe does."