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75 CHAPTER XII. ALICE'S EVIDENCE listened, or seemed to listen, the whole place around her became alive the strange creatures of her little sister's dream. The long grass rustled at her feet as the White Rabbit hurried by - the fright- ened Mouse splashed his way through the neighbouring pool - she could hear the rattle of the teacups as the March Hare and his friends shared their never-ending meal and the shrill voice of the Queen ordering off her unfortunate guests to exe- cution - once more the pig-baby was sneezing on the Duchess's knee while plates and dishes crashed around it - once more the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard's slate-pencil and the choking of the suppressed guinea-pigs, filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable Mock Turtle. 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. Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood; and how she would gather about her other little children and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago; and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows and find a pleasure in all their simple joys remembering her own child-life and the happy summer days. The End