Lewis Carroll: Through the Looking Glass

CHAPTER 8: `It's my own Invention' (continued)

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and threw herself down to rest on a lawn as soft as moss, with little flower-beds dotted about it here and there. `Oh, how glad I am to get here! And what IS this on my head?' she exclaimed in a tone of dismay, as she put her hands up to something very heavy, and fitted tight all round her head.

`But how CAN it have got there without my knowing it?' she said to herself, as she lifted it off, and set it on her lap to make out what it could possibly be.

It was a golden crown.