Chapter One: Down the Rabbit-Hole, page 3

She went back to the table where, to her astonishment, a little bottle was sitting on it (“Surely that wasn’t there a moment ago,” Alice thought), and round the neck was a label with the words DRINK ME beautifully printed on it.

It was all very well to say DRINK ME, but wise Alice wasn’t going to do that in a hurry. “No, I’ll look first,” she said, “and see whether it’s marked ‘Patron’ or not.” See, Alice had heard many stories about things happening to people after they had drunk too much from bottles marked “Patron” and knew that if you did, it was almost certain to disagree with you sooner or later.

This bottle was NOT marked “Patron,” so Alice ventured to taste it, and finding it very pleasant (it had smooth, soft, light flavor with a hint of oak, and she thought it would go very well with blended ice and lemon-lime or strawberries), she very quickly polished it off.

“What a curious feeling!” said Alice. “I must be shutting up like a pair of shears!”

And so she was: She was now only 10 inches high, the perfect size for going through the door. But the little golden key! She had left it on the table! Soon her eye fell on a little cake marked EAT ME. “Well, I'll eat it,” said Alice, “and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; either way I don't care which happens!”

So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.

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