She stretched herself up on tiptoe, and peeped over the edge of the
mushroom, and her eyes immediately met those of a large caterpillar,
that was sitting on the top with its arms folded, quietly smoking a long
hookah, and taking not the smallest notice of her or of anything else.
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 been changed several times since then.' 'What do you mean by
that?' said the Caterpillar sternly. 'Explain yourself!' 'I can't
explain MYSELF, I'm afraid, sir' said Alice, 'because I'm not myself,
you see.' 'I don't see,' said the Caterpillar.
