The White Rabbit and his neighbours gathered outside the house where giant Alice was stuck. Bill the Lizard climbed down the chimney. Alice gave one small kick, and Bill shot into the sky like a cork.
Pebbles rattled through the window and changed into little cakes. Alice ate one, shrank, and escaped into the woods.
After nearly being trampled by a puppy as large as a horse, she found a blue Caterpillar sitting on a mushroom and smoking a hookah.
“Who are you?” he asked.
Alice tried to explain that changing size all day had left her unsure.
“I can’t remember things properly,” she said, and recited a familiar poem so strangely that even she did not recognise it.
The Caterpillar told her one side of the mushroom would make her taller and the other shorter, though he did not say which side was which. Alice broke off pieces from both edges.
The first bite sent her chin down to her feet. The second stretched her neck above the treetops, where a Pigeon accused her of being a serpent after eggs.
“I’m a little girl!” Alice protested.
“I’ve seen plenty of little girls,” said the Pigeon. “None had a neck like that.”
By careful nibbling, Alice returned to a useful height. She came to a tiny house and shrank again before approaching it.
Inside, a Duchess nursed a howling baby while a Cook stirred soup with far too much pepper. Plates flew. The Cook threw pans. A grinning Cheshire Cat sat over the fire.
The Duchess handed Alice the baby and left to play croquet with the Queen. Outside, the bundle grunted, wriggled, and slowly became a pig. Alice set it down, and it trotted into the woods.
The Cheshire Cat appeared on a branch. Alice asked which road to take.
“That depends where you want to go.”
He directed her toward the March Hare and the Hatter, warning that both were mad. Then he vanished from tail to grin, leaving the grin floating alone.
Alice chose the March Hare’s house. A long table stood beneath a tree, crowded with teacups. The Hare and Hatter shouted together:
“No room!”