`Of course you don't!' the Hatter said, tossing his head
contemptuously. `I dare say you never even spoke to Time!'
`Perhaps not,' Alice cautiously replied: `but I know I have to
beat time when I learn music.'
`Ah! that accounts for it,' said the Hatter. `He won't stand
beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he'd do
almost anything you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose
it were nine o'clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons:
you'd only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the
clock in a twinkling! Half-past one, time for dinner!'
(`I only wish it was,' the March Hare said to itself in a
whisper.)
`That would be grand, certainly,' said Alice thoughtfully:
`but then--I shouldn't be hungry for it, you know.'
`Not at first, perhaps,' said the Hatter: `but you could keep
it to half-past one as long as you liked.'
`Is that the way YOU manage?' Alice asked.
The Hatter shook his head mournfully. `Not I!' he replied.
`We quarrelled last March--just before HE went mad, you know--'
(pointing with his tea spoon at the March Hare,) `--it was at the
great concert given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing
"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!
How I wonder what you're at!"
You know the song, perhaps?'
`I've heard something like it,' said Alice.
`It goes on, you know,' the Hatter continued, `in this way:--
"Up above the world you fly,
Like a tea-tray in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle--"'
Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep
`Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle--' and went on so long that
they had to pinch it to make it stop.
`Well, I'd hardly finished the first verse,' said the Hatter,
`when the Queen jumped up and bawled out, "He's murdering the
time! Off with his head!"'
`How dreadfully savage!' exclaimed Alice.
`And ever since that,' the Hatter went on in a mournful tone,
`he won't do a thing I ask! It's always six o'clock now.'
A bright idea came into Alice's head. `Is that the reason so ()