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Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage,

not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along

the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she

longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those

beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could

not even get her head through the doorway; "and even if my head

would go through," thought poor Alice, "it would be of very

little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up

like a telescope! I think I could, if I only knew how to begin."

For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately,

that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were

really impossible.