صفحة 166 من 167

So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in

Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and

all would change to dull reality-the grass would be only rustling

in the wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the reeds-the

rattling teacups would change to tinkling sheep-bells, and the

Queen's shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd boy-and the

sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, and all the other

queer noises, would change (she knew) to the confused clamour of

the busy farm-yard-while the lowing of the cattle in the distance

would take the place of the Mock Turtle's heavy sobs.