among beds of weeds (which made the oars stick fast in the water,
worse then ever), and sometimes under trees, but always with the
same tall river-banks frowning over their heads.

'Oh, please! There are some scented rushes!' Alice cried in a
sudden transport of delight. 'There really are--and SUCH
beauties!'

'You needn't say "please" to ME about 'em,' the Sheep said,
without looking up from her knitting: 'I didn't put 'em there,
and I'm not going to take 'em away.'

'No, but I meant--please, may we wait and pick some?' Alice
pleaded. 'If you don't mind stopping the boat for a minute.'

'How am _I_ to stop it?' said the Sheep. 'If you leave off
rowing, it'll stop of itself.'

So the boat was left to drift down the stream as it would, till
it glided gently in among the waving rushes. And then the little
sleeves were carefully rolled up, and the little arms were
plunged in elbow-deep to get the rushes a good long way down
before breaking them off--and for a while Alice forgot all
about the Sheep and the knitting, as she bent over the side of
the boat, with just the ends of her tangled hair dipping into the
water--while with bright eager eyes she caught at one bunch
after another of the darling scented rushes.

'I only hope the boat won't tipple over!' she said to herself.
'Oh, WHAT a lovely one! Only I couldn't quite reach it.' 'And it