but somehow I felt as if I'd been singing it a long long time!'
The other two dancers were fat, and very soon out of breath. 'Four times round is enough for one dance,' Tweedldeum panted out, and they left off dancing as suddenly as they had begun: the music stopped at the same moment.
Then they let go of Alice's hands, and stood looking at her for a minute: there was a rather awkward pause, as Alice didn't know how to begin a conversation with people she had just been dancing with. 'It would never do to say "How d'ye do?" now,' she said to herself: 'we seem to have got beyond that, somehow!'
'I hope you're not much tired?' she said at last.
'Nohow. And thank you very much for asking,' said Tweedldeum.
'So much obliged!' added Tweedledee. 'You like poetry?'
'Ye-es, pretty well – some poetry,' Alice said doubtfully. 'Would you tell me which road leads out of the wood?'
'What shall I repeat to her?' said Tweedledee, looking round at Tweedledum with great solemn eyes, and not noticing Alice's question.
'"The Walrus and the Carpenter" is the longest,' Tweedledum replied, giving his brother an affectionate hug.
Tweedldee began instantly:
'The sun was shining –'
