Douce Alice, acceptez l’offrande De ces gais récits enfantins, Et tressez-en une guirlande, Comme on voit faire aux pélerins De ces fleurs qu’ils ont recueillies, Et que plus tard, dans l’avenir, Bien qu’elles soient, hélas ! flétries, Ils chérissent...

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, `and what is the use of a book,’...