Scene V. Pig and Pepper

Alice watches the following scene: The fish footman enters carrying a letter almost as large as him or herself and raps loudly at the door with his knuckles. It is opened by the frog footman. The fish footman hands the letter over to the frog footman.

Fish footman: (solemn) For the Duchess. An invitation from the Queen to play croquet.
Frog footman: (solemn) From the Queen. (both bowing lowly & knocking heads) An invitation for the Duchess to play croquet.

Alice laughs so much at this, that she has to run back into the wood for fear of their hearing her. A great loud din of noise begins from inside the house—a constant howling & sneezing, an every now and then a great crash, as if a dish or kettle had been broken to pieces. The fish footman leaves and the frog footman sits on the ground near the door, staring stupidly up into the sky. Alice goes timidly up to the door, and knocks.

Frog footman: There’s no sort of use in knocking, 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.
Alice: Please, then, how am I to get in?
Frog footman: (ignoring her & looking into the sky) There might be some sense in your knocking, if we had the door between us. For instance, if you were INSIDE, you might knock, and I could let you out, you know.
Alice: How am I to get in?
Frog footman: I shall sit here, till tomorrow

The door of the house opens, and a large plate comes skimming out, straight at the Footman’s head: it just barely misses him/her and then continues on in the same tone as if nothing had happened.

Frog footman: — or next day, maybe.
Alice: How am I to get in? (louder)
Frog footman: ARE you to get in at all? That’s the first question, you know.
Alice: (irritated) It’s really dreadful, the way all the creatures argue. It’s enough to drive one crazy!
Frog footman: I shall sit here, on and off, for days and days.
Alice: But what am I to do?
Frog footman: Anything you like. (whistling)
Alice: Oh, there’s no use in talking to him, (desperately) he’s perfectly idiotic!

Alice opens the door and goes in. The door leads right into a large kitchen, which is full of smoke from one end to the other: the Duchess is sitting on a three-legged stool in the middle, cooing at a baby; the cook is leaning over the fire, stirring a large cauldron which seemed to be full of soup.

Alice: There’s certainly too much pepper in that soup!

Alice sneezes. The Duchess sneezes occasionally; the baby, sneezes and howls alternately without a moment’s pause. The only things in the kitchen that do not sneeze, are the cook, and a large cat which is sitting on the hearth and grinning from ear to ear.

Alice: Please would you tell me, (timidly) why your cat grins like that?
Duchess: It’s a Cheshire cat, and that’s why. Pig! (Alice jumps up & is at first offended, but then realizes that the Duchess was talking to the baby)
Alice: I didn’t know that Cheshire cats always grinned; in fact, I didn’t know that cats COULD grin.
Duchess: They all can, and most of ’em do.
Alice: (politely) I don’t know of any that do.
Duchess: You don’t know much, ‘and that’s a fact.

Alice tries to think of a new topic of conversation. While she is trying to fix on one, the cook takes the cauldron of soup off the fire, and at once sets to work throwing everything within her reach at the Duchess and the baby—the fire-irons came first; then followed a shower of saucepans, plates, and dishes. The Duchess takes no notice of them even when they hit her; and the baby is howling so much already, that it is quite impossible to say whether the blows hurt it or not.

Alice: Oh, PLEASE mind what you’re doing! (jumping up & down in terror) Oh, there goes his PRECIOUS nose. (The cook throws a saucepan almost hitting them)
Duchess: If everybody minded their own business, (in a hoarse growl) the world would go round a deal faster than it does.