CHAPTER VI Pig and Pepper

For a minute or two she stood looking at the house, and wondering

what to do next, when suddenly a footman in livery came running out

of the wood--(she considered him to be a footman because he was in

livery: otherwise, judging by his face only, she would have called him

a fish)--and rapped loudly at the door with his knuckles. It was

opened by another footman in livery, with a round face, and large eyes

like a frog; and both footmen, Alice noticed, had powdered hair that

curled all over their heads. She felt very curious to know what it was

all about, and crept a little way out of the wood to listen.

The Fish-Footman began by producing from under his arm a great

letter, nearly as large as himself, and this he handed over to the other,

saying, in a solemn tone, `For the Duchess. An invitation from the

Queen to play croquet.' The Frog-Footman repeated, in the same

solemn tone, only changing the order of the words a little, `From the

Queen. An invitation for the Duchess to play croquet.'

Then they both bowed low, and their curls got entangled

together.

Alice laughed so much at this, that she had to run back into

the wood for fear of their hearing her; and when she next peeped

out the Fish-Footman was gone, and the other was sitting on the

ground near the door, staring stupidly up into the sky.

Alice went timidly up to the door, and knocked.

`There's no sort of use in knocking,' said the Footman, `and

that for two reasons. First, because I'm on the same side of the

door as you are; secondly, because they're making such a noise

inside, no one could possibly hear you.' And certainly there was

a most extraordinary noise going on within--a constant howling

and sneezing, and every now and then a great crash, as if a dish

or kettle had been broken to pieces.

`Please, then,' said Alice, `how am I to get in?'

`There might be some sense in your knocking,' the Footman went

on without attending to her, `if we had the door between us. For