hatter

“In _that_ direction,” the Cat said, waving its right paw round, “lives a Hatter: and in _that_ direction,” waving the other paw, “lives a March Hare.

“I’ve seen hatters before,” she said to herself; “the March Hare will be much the most interesting, and perhaps as this is May it won’t be raving mad—at least not so mad as it was in March.” As she said this, she looked up, and there was the Cat again, sitting on a branch of a tree.

I almost wish I’d gone to see the Hatter instead!”

There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it: a Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head.