ing to draw,' the Dormouse went on, yawning and rubbing
its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy; 'and they drew all manner of
things--everything that begins with an M--'

'Why with an M?' said Alice.

'Why not?' said the March Hare.

Alice was silent.

The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going off into
a doze; but, on being pinched by the Hatter, it woke up again with
a little shriek, and went on: '--that begins with an M, such as
mouse-traps, and the moon, and memory, and muchness--you know you say
things are "much of a muchness"--did you ever see such a thing as a
drawing of a muchness?'

'Really, now you ask me,' said Alice, very much confused, 'I don't
think--'

'Then you shouldn't talk,' said the Hatter.

This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear: she got up in
great disgust, and walked off; the Dormouse fell asleep instantly, and
neither of the others took the least notice of her going, though she
looked back once or twice, half hoping that they would call after her:
the last time she saw them, they were trying to put the Dormouse into
the teapot.

'At any rate I'll never go THERE again!' said Alice as she picked her
way through the wood. 'It's the stupidest tea-party I ever was at in all
my life!'

Just as she said this, she noticed that one of the trees had a door
leading right into it. 'That's very curious!' she thought. 'But
everything's curious today. I think I may as well go in at once.' And in
she went.

Once more she found herself in the long hall, and close to the little
glass table. 'Now, I'll manage better this time,' she said to herself,
and began by taking the little golden key, and unlocking the door that
led into the garden. Then she went to work nibbling at the mushroom (she
had kept a piece of it in her pocket) till she was about a foot high:
then she walked down the little passage: and THEN--she found herself at
last in the beautiful garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool
fountains.

CHAPTER VIII. The Queen's Croquet-Ground

A large rose-tree stood near the entrance of the garden: the roses
growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at it, busily
painting them red. Alice thought this a very curious thing, and she went
nearer to watch them, and just as she came up to them she heard one of
them say, 'Look out now, Five! Don't go splashing paint over me like
that!'

'I couldn't help it,' said Five, in a sulky tone; 'Se