once more the pig-baby

was sneezing on the Duchess’s knee, while plates and dishes crashed

around it-- 🔊once more the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the

Lizard’s slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea-pigs,

filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable Mock

Turtle. 🔊

So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in

Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all

would change to dull reality-- 🔊the grass would be only rustling in the

wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the reeds-- 🔊the rattling

teacups would change to tinkling sheep-bells, and the Queen’s shrill

cries to the voice of the shepherd boy-- 🔊and the sneeze of the baby, the

shriek of the Gryphon, and all the other queer noises, would change (she

knew) to the confused clamour of the busy farm-yard-- 🔊while the lowing

of the cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle’s

heavy sobs. 🔊

Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers

would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; 🔊 and how she would

keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her

childhood: 🔊