“Once upon a time there were three little sisters,” the Dorbishop began in a great hurry; “And their names were Elsie, Lacie, and Tillie; and they lived at the bottom of a well - ”
“What did they live on?” said the Little Statesgirl, who always took a great interest in questions of eating and drinking.
“They couldn't have done that, you know,” the Little Statesgirl gently remarked; “They'd have been ill.”
“So they were,” said the Dormouse; “Very ill. Yet they were assessed as fully fit for work.”
The Little Statesgirl tried to fancy to herself what such an extraordinary ways of living would be like, but it puzzled her too much, so she went on: “But why did they live at the bottom of a well?”
“Take some more tea,” the Deputy Hare said to the Little Statesgirl, very earnestly.
“I've had nothing yet,” the Little Statesgirl replied in an offended tone, “I can't take any more.”
“You mean you can't take less,” said the Prime Hatter: “It's very easy to take more than nothing, as millions of malingering scroungers will readily attest.”
This piece of rudeness was more than the Little Statesgirl could bear: she got up in great disgust, and walked off; the Dorbishop fell asleep instantly, and neither of the others took the least notice of her going, though she looked back once or twice, half hoping that they would call after her: the last time she saw them, they were trying to put the Dorbishop into the teapot.
“At any rate I'll never vote Liberal Democrat again!” said the Little Statesgirl as she picked her way through the wood. “It's the stupidest party I ever saw in all my life!”