Tweedle and Twaddle
THEY were standing under a tree, each with his hand over the other's mouth.
At first Alice had some difficulty in telling them apart, they were dressed so exactly alike, but she soon noticed that one of them had a very sad expression.
"That must be Twaddle," she thought. "I have heard somewhere that he has a gloomy disposition. I wonder if they can tell me the way out of the wood."
"Please—" she began aloud.
"Don't say that," cried both the little men together, uncovering each other's mouth; "it isn't literary."
"I'm not trying to be literary," Alice said.
"But you should try," said Twaddle, "especially when you are in our company. You see, we are very literary."
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