Writing in Voices
For wondering what to do next, suddenly she called him a fish.
The Fish repeated the words a little, “From the Queen.”
“There such a noise inside—a constant howling and sneezing. I could let you out,” she said to herself; “But—How am I to get in?” she repeated.
She knew the meaning of it all. How their names whispered the end of things.
He looked as though his cheeks lived under the sea. “Why, a jelly-fish!” cried the Mouse.
Of course, they solemnly laugh; the confusion was over at last.
“You promised to tell me your history, you know,” she added in a whisper.
Oh, that direction…
“How do you know you’re mad?”
Would the fall never come to an end? She had to kneel down with one arm curled round her head.
“Now I can do no more, whatever happens. I fancied that kind of thing never happened—but I’m grown up now.”