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 “Not at first, perhaps,” said the Hatter: “but you could keep it to half-past one as long as you liked.”

“Is that the way you manage?” Alice asked.

The Hatter shook his head mournfully. “Not I!” he replied. “We quarrelled last March just before he went mad, you know” (pointing with his teaspoon to the March Hare), “it was at the great concert given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing

You know that song, perhaps?”

“I’ve heard something like it,” said Alice.

“It goes on, you know,” the Hatter con­tinued, “in this way:—

Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep “Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle” and went on so long that they had to pinch it to make it stop.