WONDERLAND COTTAGE 67 



trying to frustrate the Rabbit from carrying out 

 his threat of entering that way. Alice, as you 

 know, was much too large for the cottage, because 

 she had somewhat injudiciously put to her lips 

 the magic bottle which had tied to it the tempting 

 label " Drink me." This nectar suddenly caused 

 her to outgrow her surroundings. 



One of the tiny windows of Rosedale Cottage — 

 for this is the romantic name of the house of the 

 tea-party — is lit up, and standing near it I see the 

 gold-lace hat and dark-blue uniform of an English 

 Admiral. Like Alice, he looks somewhat too big 

 for the size of the house, but this only adds to the 

 delightful sensation that now possesses me of 

 taking part in a real, living Nursery Rhyme. His 

 white-gloved hand is held up in salute as he notices 

 my arrival, and a pleasant smile flits across the 

 clean-shaven, handsome face. He is young for his 

 position, but the wide brow denotes thought and a 

 firmly-moulded chin shows a determination which 

 should baffle any enemy. 



Full of happy anticipation, I walk up the narrow 

 red-brick path, gently knock, and turn the handle 

 of the door. All is dark within, except for a 

 flickering candle on the hall-table and, in the parlour 

 near by, the red glow from the log fire, seen through 

 the half-open door. Stealthily I grope my way 

 to the back of the house, for I know that muddy 

 shoes are forbidden where fairies live. There is a 

 stone-paved room behind the hall, known as the 

 Dairy, and in it are tables and chairs conveniently 

 placed to hold all wraps, mufflers, and goloshes 

 that the dressed-up guests bring with them. 



