Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was very hot, she kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking: “Dear, dear And yesterday things went on just as usual I wonder if I’ve been changed in the night Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning I almost think I can remember feeling a little different But if I’m not the same, the next question is, Who in the world am I Ah, _that’s_ the great puzzle!” And she began thinking over all the children she knew that were of the same age as herself, to see if she could have been changed for any of them “I’m sure I’m not Ada,” she said, “for her hair goes in such long ringlets, and mine doesn’t go in ringlets at all; and I’m sure I can’t be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things, and she, oh Besides, _she’s_ she, and _I’m_ I, and—oh dear, how puzzling it all is I’ll try if I know all the things I used to know Let me see: four times five is twelve, and four times six is thirteen, and four times seven is—oh dear I shall never get to twenty at that rate However, the Multiplication Table doesn’t signify: let’s try Geography London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital of Rome, and Rome—no, _that’s_ all wrong, I’m certain I must have been changed for Mabel No, I’ve made up my mind about it; if I’m Mabel, I’ll stay down here It’ll be no use their putting their heads down and saying ‘Come up again, dear!’ I shall only look up and say ‘Who am I then “How _can_ I have done that?” she thought And I declare it’s too bad, that it is!” As she said these words her foot slipped, and in another moment, splash she was up to her chin in salt water Her first idea was that she had somehow fallen into the sea, “and in that case I can go back by railway,” she said to herself “I wish I hadn’t cried so much!” said Alice, as she swam about, trying to find her way out “I shall be punished for it now, I suppose, by being drowned in my own tears That _will_ be a queer thing, to be sure “Would it be of any use, now,” thought Alice, “to speak to this mouse Everything is so out-of-the-way down here, that I should think very likely it can talk: at any rate, there’s no harm in trying.” So she began: “O Mouse, do you know the way out of this pool The Mouse gave a sudden leap out of the water, and seemed to quiver all over with fright “Oh, I beg your pardon!” cried Alice hastily, afraid that she had hurt the poor animal’s feelings “I quite forgot you didn’t like cats.” “Not like cats!” cried the Mouse, in a shrill, passionate voice “Would _you_ like cats if you were me?” “Well, perhaps not,” said Alice in a soothing tone: “don’t be angry about it And yet I wish I could show you our cat Dinah: I think you’d take a fancy to cats if you could only see her “We won’t talk about her any more if you’d rather not.” “We indeed!” cried the Mouse, who was trembling down to the end of his tail “As if _I_ would talk on such a subject Our family always _hated_ cats: nasty, low, vulgar things Don’t let me hear the name again!” “I won’t indeed!” said Alice, in a great hurry to change the subject of conversation “Are you—are you fond—of—of dogs?” The Mouse did not answer, so Alice went on eagerly: “There is such a nice little dog near our house I should like to show you A little bright-eyed terrier, you know, with oh, such long curly brown hair So she called softly after it, “Mouse dear Alice led the way, and the whole party swam to the shore At last the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of authority among them, called out, “Sit down, all of you, and listen to me _I’ll_ soon make you dry enough!” They all sat down at once, in a large ring, with the Mouse in the middle Alice kept her eyes anxiously fixed on it, for she felt sure she would catch a bad cold if she did not get dry very soon “Ahem!” said the Mouse with an important air, “are you all ready This is the driest thing I know Silence all round, if you please ‘William the Conqueror, whose cause was favoured by the pope, was soon submitted to by the English, who wanted leaders, and had been of late much accustomed to usurpation and conquest Edwin and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria—’” “Ugh!” said the Lory, with a shiver “I beg your pardon!” said the Mouse, frowning, but very politely: “Did you speak?” “Not I!” said the Lory hastily “I thought you did,” said the Mouse ‘Edwin and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria, declared for him: and even Stigand, the patriotic archbishop of Canterbury, found it advisable—’” “Found _what_?” said the Duck