Off with his head!”’ ‘How dreadfully savage!’ exclaimed Alice. ‘And ever since that,’ the Hatter went on in a mournful tone, ‘he won’t do a thing I ask! It’s always six o’clock now.’ A bright idea came into Alice’s head. ‘Is that the reason so many tea-things are put out here?’ she asked. ‘Yes, that’s it,’ said the Hatter with a sigh: ‘it’s always tea-time, and we’ve no time to wash the things between whiles.’ ‘Then you keep moving round, I suppose?’ said Alice. ‘Exactly so,’ said the Hatter: ‘as the things get used up.’ ‘But what happens when you come to the beginning again?’ Alice ventured to ask. ‘Suppose we change the subject,’ the March Hare interrupted, yawning. ‘I’m getting tired of this. I vote the young lady tells us a story.’ ‘I’m afraid I don’t know one,’ said Alice, rather alarmed at the proposal. ‘Then the Dormouse shall!’ they both cried. ‘Wake up, Dormouse!’ And they pinched it on both sides at once. The Dormouse slowly opened his eyes. ‘I wasn’t asleep,’ he said in a hoarse, feeble voice: ‘I heard every word you fellows were saying.’ ‘Tell us a story!’ said the March Hare. ‘Yes, please do!’ pleaded Alice. ‘And be quick about it,’ added the Hatter, ‘or you’ll be asleep again before it’s done.’ ‘Once upon a time there were three little sisters,’ the Dormouse began in a great hurry; ‘and their names were Elsie, Lacie, and Tillie; and they lived at the bottom of a well--’ ‘What did they live on?’ said Alice, who always took a great interest in questions of eating and drinking. ‘They lived on treacle,’ said the Dormouse, after thinking a minute or two. ‘They couldn’t have done that, you know,’ Alice gently remarked; ‘they’d have been ill.’ ‘So they were,’ said the Dormouse; ‘VERY ill.’ Alice tried to fancy to herself what such an extraordinary ways of living would be like, but it puzzled her too much, so she went on: ‘But why did they live at the bottom of a well?’ ‘Take some more tea,’ the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly.