`No, I don't think it is,' he said: `at least
-- not under HERE. Nohow.'
`But it may rain OUTSIDE?'
`It may -- if it chooses,' said Tweedledee: `we've no objection.
Contrariwise.'
`Selfish things!' thought Alice, and she was just going to say
`Good-night' and leave them, when Tweedledum sprang out from under
the umbrella and seized her by the wrist.
`Do you see THAT?' he said, in a voice choking with passion, and
his eyes grew large and yellow all in a moment, as he pointed with a
trembling finger at a small white thing lying under the tree.
`It's only a rattle,' Alice said, after a careful examination of
the little white thing. `Not a rattleSNAKE, you know,' she added
hastily, thinking that he was frightened: only an old rattle -- quite
old and broken.'
`I knew it was!' cried Tweedledum, beginning to stamp about wildly
and tear his hair. `It's spoilt, of course!' Here he looked at
Tweedledee, who immediately sat down on the ground, and tried to hide
himself under the umbrella.
Alice laid her hand upon his arm, and said in a soothing tone, `You
needn't be so angry about an old rattle.'
`But it isn't old!' Tweedledum cried, in a greater fury than ever.
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