`Besides, if I'M only
a sort of thing in his dream, what are YOU, I should like to know?'
`Ditto' said Tweedledum.
`Ditto, ditto' cried Tweedledee.
He shouted this so loud that Alice couldn't help saying, `Hush!
You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise.'
`Well, it no use YOUR talking about waking him,' said Tweedledum,
`when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well
you're not real.'
`I AM real!' said Alice and began to cry.
`You won't make yourself a bit realler by crying,' Tweedledee
remarked: `there's nothing to cry about.'
`If I wasn't real,' Alice said -- half-laughing though her tears,
it all seemed so ridiculous -- `I shouldn't be able to cry.'
`I hope you don't suppose those are real tears?' Tweedledum
interrupted in a tone of great contempt.
`I know they're talking nonsense,' Alice thought to herself: `and
it's foolish to cry about it.' So she brushed away her tears, and
went on as cheerfully as she could. `At any rate I'd better be
getting out of the wood, for really it's coming on very dark. Do you
think it's going to rain?'
Tweedledum spread a large umbrella over himself and his brother,
and looked up into it.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61