The Hatter shook his head mournfully. "Not I!" he replied. "We quarrelled last March——just before he went mad, you know——" (pointing with his teaspoon to the March Hare), "it was at the great concert given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing
'Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!
How I wonder what you're at!'
You know that song, perhaps?"
"I've heard something like it," said Alice.
"It goes on, you know," the Hatter continued, "in this way:—
'Up above the world you fly,
Like a tea-tray in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle——'"
Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep "Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle——" and went on so long that they had to pinch it to make it stop.
"Well, I'd hardly finished the first verse," said the Hatter, "when the Queen jumped up and bawled out 'He's murdering the time! Off with his head!'"
"How dreadfully savage!" exclaimed Alice.
"And ever since that," the Hatter went on in a mournful tone, "he won't do a thing I ask! It's always six o'clock now."