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Now, you may not remember this, but I’m but a cat. A rather mad cat, but a still a cat. I still enjoy lousing about, enjoying the goings round of the Duchess and her cook, the endless tossing of things, the crying baby (which I knew was but a pig, mind you.), and the almost never-ending pepper-caked air. The frog-man went to open the knocked door, revealing a fish-man. The two exchanged words and the fish handed the frog a letter. Croquet. The door opened, and a little newcomer came in.
“There’s certainly too much pepper in that soup!” Exclaimed the newcomer, sneezing a storm. True, within the air, there had been too much pepper, as the duchess herself sneezed, too. The pig-baby wailed and sneezed whilst cradled in the Duchess’s arms. I and the Cook, on the other hand, did not sneeze, as I had myself perched upon the hearth, my grin wide.
“Please would you tell me, why your cat grins like that?” The newcomer asked the Duchess, glancing at me. She seemed unsure of if politeness is desired.
“It’s a Cheshire-Cat,” The Duchess replied to the newcomer, then exclaims to the pig, “and that’s why. Pig!” The newcomer jumped, clearly scared by the suddenness of the Duchess’s words.
“I didn’t know Cheshire-Cats always grinned; in fact, I didn’t know that cats could grin.” the newcomer said, steadily growing the courage to confer with the Duchess.
“They all can; most of ‘em do,” the Duchess stated firmly.
“I don’t know of any that do,” the newcomer continued attempting politeness with the Duchess. She seemed pleased to confer with another.
“You don’t know much; and that’s a fact,” The Duchess stated bluntly. Displeased by the remark, the newcomer appeared to think of a subject to change. The cook took up the cauldron she had been stirring within and hurled it toward the Duchess and the pig-baby. The cook then took up everything she could reach and threw them at the Duchess’s direction. The duchess flinched not and the pig-baby appeared to be totally unharmed, though the wailing could’ve said otherwise.
“Oh, please mind what you’re doing!” cried the newcomer, frantically jumping to dodge the projectiles, her face that of agonized terror. “Oh, there goes his precious nose!” The nose, in question, being that of the pig-baby’s; a saucepan narrowly missing it.
“If everybody minded their own business, the world would go round a deal faster than it does,” the Duchess hoarsely growled.
“Which would not be an advantage. Just think what work it would make with the day and night! You see the earth takes twenty-four hours to turn round its axis---” the newcomer argued.
“Talking of axes; chop off her head!” the Duchess roared. Cautiously continuing on, the newcomer stated; “Twenty-four hours, I think; or is it twelve? I----”
“Oh, don’t bother me! I could never abide figures!” The Duchess exclaimed. She turned to the pig-baby, and begun to sing a lullaby, violently shaking him as punctuation for each line. By the second verse sent the pig-baby into the air just as violently as the initial shaking. He howled rather intently.
“Here! You may nurse it a bit, if you like!” The Duchess hurled the pig-baby toward the newcomer, finished with the lullaby, “I must go and get ready to play croquet with the Queen.” The Duchess hurried out the room, with the cook hurling a frying-pan after her.
I vanished from the house and the next time I had seen the newcomer was within a forest cross-way; between the homes of the Hatter and the Hare.
Having set the pig-baby free to roam, the newcomer had startled from her wandering by my image upon the branch.
“Cheshire-Puss,” the newcomer begun uncertainly, but by the widening of my grin she proceeded, “would you tell me, which way I ought to go from here?”
“That depends a good deal on where you wish to go to,” said I.
“I don’t much care where---” the newcomer begun. My grin widened as she hadn’t a knowing of where to go.
“Then is doesn’t matter which way you go,” I replied before she could finish.
“--so long as I go somewhere,” she added.
“Oh, you’re to do that, if you only walk long enough,” I stated.
“What sorts of people live about here?” the newcomer asked, accepting my responses.
“In that direction,” I lazily swung my right paw, “lives a Hatter; in the other way lives a March Hare,” I waved my other paw in the opposing direction, “visit either; they’re both rather mad.”
“But I haven't a desire to walk among the mad,” the newcomer complained.
“Oh, you can’t help it,” I state simply, “we’re all mad here; I’m mad, and you, too, are mad.”
“How must you know I’m mad?” the newcomer asked sharply.
“You ought to be, else you wouldn’t’ve come here,” I replied. Unamused, it seemed, the newcomer had begged the question; “And how do you know you’re mad?”
“To begin with; A dog’s not mad, do you grant that?” I Inquired upon her. After a moment silent, the newcomer replied; “I suppose so.”
“You see, a dog growls when it’s angry and wags its tail when it’s pleased,” I begun, “As for which, I growl when I’m pleased and whip my tail when I’m angry. Therefore, I’m rather mad.” My reasoning seemed to send something within the newcomer, causing her to think.
“I call it purring,” she stated. I shifted position so my back was upon the wood.
“Call it what you like; Do you play croquet with the Queen today, per-chance?” I asked the newcomer.
“Why, I should, although I have no invitation to such an event,” the newcomer softly stated. I grinned wide; “You’ll see me there, then,” I state as I vanished into the air.
“By-the-bye, what made of the baby you were to be nursing? I hadn’t asked,” I asked as I appeared nearer to the newcomer. Her reply was quiet, as if she had but witnessed me leap down from the tree; “It turned to a pig.”
“As I thought it would,” I exclaim softly, quite pleased, “I’ll see you at the Castle, as you’ll be-- off to the Hare or Hatter, I presume?”
“I suppose I’ll visit the March Hare, for he only becomes mad within March, am I correct?” The newcomer asked, glancing to me, though I had already begun to vanish. From my tail to my grin, i vanished one-by-one. I returned slightly.
“Had you said ‘pig’ or ‘fig’?” I asked the comer, uncertain if I’d heard her properly.
“I said ‘pig.’” the comer stated, I grinned rather wide, my body vanishing.
“All right,” I state as I vanish, watching the comer’s reaction, then her travels to the direction of the Hatter. I appeared near the Castle Grounds and waited for the comer to catch up. I knew the mad forest three will mind her company greatly, having their mad-ness confirm hers, for their constant tea-time often does.
I believe that once the comer manages escape from the Tea-table, a caterpillar may sit in her path, though I wouldn’t know. My mad-ness changed quite a lot in this time, having tired my greatly. I’ve napped off-and-on while waiting for the newcomer to arrive.
I was almost certain that the comer, I later learned her name to be Alice, was most certainly as mad as the Hatter himself.