The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence; at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice. “Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied rather shyly, “ I – I hardly know, sir, just at present – at least I know who I was when I got up this morning but I think I must have changed several times since then.”
“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar sternly. “Explain yourself!”
“I am afraid I cannot say it more clearly,” Alice replied very politely, “You see, I can’t understand it myself to begin with, being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.” “It isn’t,” said the Caterpillar.
“Well, perhaps you haven’t found so yet,” said Alice, “ but when you have to turn into a chrysalis – you will some day, you know– and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you’ll feel a little queer, won’t you?”
“Not a bit,” said the Caterpillar.
From ALICE IN WONDERLAND
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