“What did they learn?” asked Alice.
“Painting in glowing colours, and attrition, and terminology (that’s the science of knowing when things are over), and iteration (that’s the same thing over again), and drawing——”
“What did they draw?”
“Salaries. And then there were classes for foreign languages. And such language!” (Here the March Hare and the Hatter shut their eyes and took a big gulp from their tea-cups.) “However, I don’t think anybody attended to them.”
The Dormouse broke off into a chuckle which ended in a snore, and as no one seemed inclined to wake it up again Alice thought she might as well be going.
When she looked back the Hatter and the March Hare were trying to stiffen the Dormouse out into the attitude of a lion guardant. “But it will never pass for anything but a Dormouse if it will snore so,” she remarked to herself.
ALICE GOES TO CHESTERFIELD
Alice noticed a good deal of excitement going on among the Looking-Glass creatures: some of them were hurrying off expectantly in one direction, as fast as their legs would carry them, while others were trying to look as if nothing in particular was about to happen.
“Those mimsy-looking birds,” she said, catching sight of a group that did not look in the best of spirits, “those must be Borogoves. I’ve read about them somewhere; in some parts of the country they have to be protected. And, I declare, there is the White King coming through the Wood.”
Alice went to meet the King, who was struggling with a very unwieldy pencil to write something in a notebook. “It’s a memorandum of my feelings, in case I forget them,” he explained. “Only,” he added, “I’m not quite sure that I meant to put it that way.”