up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door.

  Poor Alice!  It was as much as she could do, lying down on one
side, to look through into the garden with one eye; but to get
through was more hopeless than ever:  she sat down and began to
cry again.

  `You ought to be ashamed of yourself,' said Alice, `a great
girl like you,' (she might well say this), `to go on crying in