socks. So they stayed where they were. And at last, when even the
other three who were walking about were beginning to feel rather chilly,
we saw Lord Tottenham's big black cloak coming along, flapping in the
wind like a great bird. So we said to Alice--

'Hist! he approaches. You'll know when to set Pincher on by hearing
Lord Tottenham talking to himself--he always does while he is taking off
his collar.'

Then we three walked slowly away whistling to show we were not thinking
of anything. Our lips were rather cold, but we managed to do it.

Lord Tottenham came striding along, talking to himself. People call him
the mad Protectionist. I don't know what it means--but I don't think
people ought to call a Lord such names.

As he passed us he said, 'Ruin of the country, sir! Fatal error, fatal
error!' And then we looked back and saw he was getting quite near where
Pincher was, and Alice and H. O. We walked on--so that he shouldn't
think we were looking--and in a minute we heard Pincher's bark, and then
nothing for a bit; and then we looked round, and sure enough good old
Pincher had got Lord Tottenham by the trouser leg and was holding on
like billy-ho, so we started to run.

Lord Tottenham had got his collar half off--it was sticking out sideways
under his ear--and he was shouting, 'Help, help, murder!' exactly as if
some one had explained to him beforehand what he was to do. Pincher was
growling and snarling and holding on. When we got to him I stopped and
said--