mouse's place and Al-ice, none too well pleased, took the place of the March Hare. The Hat-ter was the on-ly one to get an-y good from the change; and Al-ice was a good deal worse off, as the March Hare had up-set the milk-jug in-to his plate.
"Now, for your sto-ry," the March Hare said to Al-ice.
"I'm sure I don't know,"—Alice be-gan, "I—I don't think—"
"Then you shouldn't talk," said the Hat-ter.
This was more than Al-ice could stand; so she got up and walked off, and though she looked back once or twice and half hoped they would call af-ter her, they didn't seem to know that she was gone. The last time she saw them, they were trying to put the poor Dor-mouse head first in-to the tea-pot.
"Well, I'll not go there a-gain," said Al-ice as she picked her way through the wood. "It's the dull-est tea-par-ty I was ev-er at in all my life."
As Al-ice said this, she saw that one of the trees had a door that led right in-to it. "That's strange!" she thought; "but I haven't seen a thing to-day that isn't strange.
