ABSTRACT
On the whole my experience of being read to by my parents was not a success. Alice in Wonderland was spoiled by my habit of asking questions and my intolerance of frustration. The mouse's tail made me feel, well, like the animals. Why was it dry? Who was Fury? Why? What was he furious about? Why did the tail get smaller? Yes, but why do mice's tails...? My father was torn between the desire to be patient and the wish to get on with the book. "It gets better later", he said, but it did not. I didn't like the Dodo. I wished those animals would sit still and not go scurrying off whenever Dinah was mentioned. Why was Alice so daft as to keep on mentioning—well, you know who. Why couldn't she keep her mouth shut?
