The Cheshire Cat

The cat grinned good-naturedly when it saw Alice; its elongated claws and numerous teeth making her feel as if she ought to treat it with respect.

“Cheshire Cat,” she said timidly, and the feline’s smile widened. “Please tell me which way I ought to travel from here.”

“That depends a good deal on where you desire to go,” said the cat.

“I don’t particularly care where—” said Alice.

The cat interrupted. “Then it doesn’t matter which way you go.”

“—so long as I arrive SOMEWHERE,” Alice finished by way of explanation.

“In THAT direction,” the cat continued, waving its right forefoot, “dwells a Hatter; and in THAT direction,” waving the other talon, “lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they’re both mad. In fact, we’re all insane here.” Changing the subject, the cat asked, “Do you play croquet with the queen to-day?”

“I should like it very much,” said Alice, “but I haven’t been invited yet.”

“I plan to be in attendance,” said the cat and vanished.

Gazing at the place where the cat had reclined, Alice was startled to see it suddenly reappear, then vanish again.

Alice waited momentarily, half expecting to see it reappear, but it did not, and so she strolled on in the direction of the March Hare. “I’ve seen hatters before,” she reasoned; “this will be much more entertaining, and perhaps as this is May it won’t be raving mad—at least not so mad as it was in March.” Looking up, she noticed the cat again, perched on a chestnut branch.

“I do wish you wouldn’t keep appearing and vanishing so suddenly: your behavior makes one quite giddy.”

With that, Alice proceeded down the path, puzzling on the curious spectacle of the cat vanishing quite slowly, beginning with its tail, and ending with the grin, which lingered after the rest of it had disappeared.