The Duchess had the baby in her lap, and tossed it about ridiculously, finally throwing it in the most heartless way to Alice. She took it out of doors, and behold, it turned into a little pig, jumped out of her arms, and ran away into the wood. "If it had grown up," she said, "it would have made a dreadfully ugly child; but it makes rather a handsome pig, I think." She was a little startled now by seeing the Cheshire Cat--which she had first seen in the house of the Duchess--sitting on a bough of a tree. The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked good-natured, she thought; still it had _very_ long claws and a great many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect. "Cheshire Puss," she said, "what sort of people live about here?" "In _that_ direction," the Cat said, waving its right paw round, "lives a Hatter; and in _that_ direction"--waving the other paw--"lives a March Hare. Visit either you like; they're both mad." She had not gone very far before she came in sight of the house of the March Hare. She thought it must be the right house, because the chimneys were shaped like ears and the roof was thatched with fur. It was so large a house that she did not like to go nearer till she had nibbled some more of the left-hand bit of mushroom, and raised herself to about two feet high; even then she walked up towards it rather timidly, saying to herself, "Suppose it should be raving mad after all. I almost wish I'd gone to see the Hatter instead." _IV.--Alice at the Mad Tea Party_ There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it; a Dormouse was sitting between them fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head. The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner. "No room! No room!" they cried out when they saw Alice coming. "There's _plenty_ of room!" said Alice indignantly. And she sat down in a large armchair at one end of the table. "What day of the month is it?" asked the Hatter, turning to Alice. He had taken his watch out of his pocket and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it every now and then, and holding it to his ear. Alice considered a little, and said, "The fourth." "Two days wrong," sighed the Hatter. "I told you butter wouldn't suit the works," he added, looking angrily at the March Hare. "It was the _best_ butter," the March Hare meekly replied. "But some crumbs must have got in as well," the Hatter grumbled. "You shouldn't have put it in with the bread-knife." The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily, then he dipped it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again, but he could think of nothing better to say than "It was the _best_ butter, you know." "It's always tea-time with us here," explained the Hatter, "and we've no time to wash the things between whiles."