Quinn 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," thought Quinn, "without pictures or conversations?"

So she was considering, in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Quinn think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself "Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!" (When she thought over it afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but, when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Quinn started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and, burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and was just in time to it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.

In another moment down went Quinn after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.

The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and the dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Quinn has not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down what seemed to be a very deep well.

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her, and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything: then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and bookshelves: here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed: it was labeled "GRAPE JELLY," but to her disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar, for fear of killing someone underneath, so she managed to put it in one of the cupboards as she fell past it.

"Well!" thought Quinn to herself. "After such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down-stairs! How brave they'll all think of me at home! Why, I wouldn't say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!" (Which was very likely true.)

Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end? "I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?" She said aloud. "I must be getting somewhere near the center of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down, I think." (For, you see, Quinn had learnt several things of this sort from her classes at the local middle school, and though this was not a very good opportunity for showing off her skills, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) "Yes, that's about the right distance. But then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I've got to?" (Quinn had not the slightest idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but she thought they were nice sounding words to say.)

Presently she began again. "I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it'll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downwards! The antipathies, I think." (She was rather glad that there was no one listening, this time, as it didn't sound at all the right word) "But I shall have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. Please, Ma'am, is this New Zealand? Or Australia?" (And she tried to curtsey as she spoke: fancy, curtseying as you're falling through the air! Do you think she could manage it?) "And what an ignorant little girl she'll think me for asking! No, it'll never do to ask: perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere."

Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Quinn soon began talking again. "Lucy will miss me very much tonight, I should think!" (Lucy was the Fabray's cat.) "I hope they'll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. Lucy! I wish you were down here with me! There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that's very much like a mouse, you know. Do cats eat bats, I wonder?" And here Quinn began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, "Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats? And sometimes "Do bats eat cats?" for, you see, as she couldn't answer either question, it didn't matter much which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just began to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Lucy, and was saying to her, very earnestly. "Now, Lucy, tell me the truth: Did you ever eat a bat?" when suddenly, thump! Thump! Down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.

Quinn was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: She looked up, but it was all dark overhead: before her was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Quinn like the wind, there was just time to hear it says, as it turned a corner, "Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting!" She was close behind it when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.

There were doors all around the hall, but they were all locked: and when Quinn had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever going to get out again.

Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass: there was nothing on it but a tiny golden key, and Quinn's first idea was that this might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but either of the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second time around, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she tried the little key in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!

Quinn opened the door and found that it lead to 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 great beds of flowers and those cool looking fountains, but she could not even get her head through the little doorway. "And even if my head could go through," Quinn thought to herself sadly, "it would be of little use without my shoulders. Oh how I wish I could shut up like a telescope!" For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Quinn had begun to think that very few things were really impossible.

There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so Quinn went back to the table, half-hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it ("which certainly was not here before," said Quinn), and tied to the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words "DRINK ME" beautifully printed on it in large letters.

It was all very well to say "Drink me," but the wise little Quinn was not going to do that in a hurry. "No, I'll look first," she thought "and she whether it's marked poison or not."; for she had read several nice little stories about children who had gotten burned up, eaten by wild beasts, and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker would burn you if you held it for too long; and that if you cut your finger with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink so much from a bottle marked "poison", it is almost certain to disagree with you sooner or later.

However, this bottle was not marked "poison", so Quinn ventured to taste it, and, finding it very nice (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavor of cherry-tart, custard, pineapple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast), she very soon finished it off.

"What a curious feeling!" said Quinn. "I must be shutting up like a telescope!"

And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further: she felt a little nervous about this; "for it might end, you know," said Quinn to herself, "in my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be like then?" And she tried to imagine what the flame of a candle looks like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember ever seeing such thing.

After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Quinn! When she got to the door, she found that she had forgotten the little golden key, and when she went back to the table or it, she found that she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery, and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and cried.

"Come, there's no use in crying like that!" said Quinn to herself rather sharply. She generally gave herself good advice (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game of soccer she was playing with herself, for Quinn was very fond of pretending to be two people.

Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found a very small cake on which the words "EAT ME" were beautifully marked in blue piping. "Well, I'll eat it," said Quinn, "and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me shrink, I can creep under the door! I'll get to the garden either way."

She took a small bite of the cake, and said anxiously "Which way?", holding her hand to the top of her head to feel which way it was growing; and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size. To be sure, this is what generally happened when one eats cake; but Quinn had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but unusual things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.

So she set to work, and very soon finished the cake.

A/N: So hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please R&R!

SONGS LISTENED TO!:

Titanium- Sia.

Just The Way You Are/Just A Dream- The Bellas.