The next minute she had grown so tall that her neck rose like a stalk out of a sea of green leaves, and these green leaves were the trees of the wood.  But, by nibbling bits of mushroom, she at last succeeded in bringing herself down to her usual height.  But, oh dear, in order to get into the first house she saw, she had to eat some more of the mushroom from her right hand and bring herself down to nine inches.  Outside the house she saw the Fish-footmen and the Frog-footmen with invitations from the Queen to the Duchess, asking her to play croquet.  The Duchess lived in the house, and a terrible noise was going on inside, and when the door was opened a plate came crashing out.  But Alice got in at last, and found a strange state of things.  The Duchess and her cook were quarrelling because there was too much pepper in the soup.  The cook threw everything she could lay hands on at the Duchess, and nearly knocked the baby’s nose off with a saucepan.

The Duchess had the baby in her lap, and tossed it about ridiculously, finally throwing it in the most heartless way to Alice.  She took it out of doors, and behold, it turned into a little pig, jumped out of her arms, and ran away into the wood.

“If it had grown up,” she said, “it would have made a dreadfully ugly child; but it makes rather a handsome pig, I think.”

She was a little startled now by seeing the Cheshire Cat—­which she had first seen in the house of the Duchess—­sitting on a bough of a tree.  The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice.  It looked good-natured, she thought; still it had very long claws and a great many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect.

“Cheshire Puss,” she said, “what sort of people live about here?”

“In that direction,” the Cat said, waving its right paw round, “lives a Hatter; and in that direction”—­waving the other paw—­“lives a March Hare.  Visit either you like; they’re both mad.”

She had not gone very far before she came in sight of the house of the March Hare.  She thought it must be the right house, because the chimneys were shaped like ears and the roof was thatched with fur.  It was so large a house that she did not like to go nearer till she had nibbled some more of the left-hand bit of mushroom, and raised herself to about two feet high; even then she walked up towards it rather timidly, saying to herself, “Suppose it should be raving mad after all.  I almost wish I’d gone to see the Hatter instead.”

IV.—­Alice at the Mad Tea Party

There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it; a Dormouse was sitting between them fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head.

The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner.

“No room!  No room!” they cried out when they saw Alice coming.