"Oh, but I haven't! Of course, I suppose the people in Wonderland don't know they are queer, and so that's why you don't know you live there."
"Well," said Betty scornfully, "I'm sure I don't see anything to wonder at in this old place—" Just then a bell rang sharply, and Betty hurried to answer the telephone. It was her father speaking. She took his message and returned to her guest.
"What in the world," said Alice, "made you talk into that little black cup?"
"Why, that's the telephone."
"What's a telephone? We didn't have them in my time, I'm sure."
"Oh, everybody has one now. It lets you talk to somebody 'way off, over an electric wire."
"Of course, we read about Franklin and his kite and all that. Let me try it." But when the operator's voice saying "Number, please?" came to Alice's ear, she was so frightened that she dropped the receiver.
"I can show you lots more things we do with electricity," said Betty, beginning to understand that things which were commonplace to her were wonders to her visitor. "You see it's getting dark? Now watch." Going to the push-button in the wall she snapped on the light; Alice jumped at its suddenness.
"Why, at home we had to find matches and light a lamp," she said in amazement.