Alice looked around the table. There were many place settings. But the only ones at the table were the Hatter, the March Hare, and the Dormouse.
"Why are there so many dishes?" Alice asked the Hatter.
"It's always six o'clock, so that means it's always time for tea," he explained. "We don't have time to wash the dishes."
"So when you need clean dishes, you move to the next place setting?" Alice asked.
The Hatter nodded in agreement. "Exactly."
Alice thought about this for a moment. "But what happens when you come back to where you started?"
"Let's change the subject," the March Hare said. "I'm getting bored. I think the young lady should tell us a story."
"What?" Alice shook her head. "But I don't know any stories."
"Then the Dormouse will tell us one," the March Hare and the Hatter said together. They pinched the Dormouse on both sides at once.
"Tell us a story," the March Hare said.
"Yes, please do," Alice begged.
"And be quick about it. Or you'll fall asleep before you're done," the Hatter added.
The Dormouse sat up straight and began to talk. "Once upon a time, there were three little sisters. Their names were Elsie, Lacie, and Tillie. They lived at the bottom of a well, and—"
"Did they get hungry down there?" Alice asked. She was always interested in what people ate and drank.
The Dormouse thought for a moment or two. "They lived on molasses," he finally said.
Alice shook her head in disbelief. "Those girls couldn't have done that," she said gently. "That would have made them ill."
"Yes, they were very ill," the Dormouse said.
Alice tried to imagine what it would be like to live in a well. But she couldn't. "Why did they live at the bottom of a well?"
"Have some more tea," the March Hare said to her.
"I've had nothing so far," Alice said. "So I can't have more."
"Nonsense!" the March Hare said. "If you have nothing, anything is more than that."
Alice didn't know what to say to this. So she helped herself to tea, and bread and butter. Then she turned to the Dormouse and repeated her question. "Why did the sisters live at the bottom of a well?"
Again the Dormouse took a few moments to think. "Because it was a molasses well."
"There's no such thing!" Alice said angrily. The Hatter and March Hare shushed her.
The Dormouse frowned. "If you can't be nice," he said, "you can finish the story yourself."
"No, please go on. I promise to stay quiet and listen," Alice said.
"I want a clean cup," the Hatter interrupted.
So they all moved one place to the right, and the Dormouse went on with his story. "The sisters were drawing things beginning with the letter M such as—"
"Why with an M?" Alice asked. "I don't think—"
"Then you shouldn't talk," the Hatter said.
This bit of rudeness was more than Alice could bear. She got up in disgust. As she walked away, the Dormouse fell asleep. The Hatter and the March Hare didn't seem to notice her leaving. Alice looked back several times, hoping they would call after her. But now they were busy trying to put the Dormouse into the teapot.
"I'll never go there again," Alice said as she walked through the woods. "That was the dumbest tea party ever."