make him, because it was only fair.

'It's quite easy,' Alice said. 'You just crawl in and dig with your
hands. Then when you come out we can scrape out what you've done, with
the spades. Come--be a man. You won't notice it being dark in the
tunnel if you shut your eyes tight. We've all been in except Dora--and
she doesn't like worms.'

'I don't like worms neither.' Albert-next-door said this; but we
remembered how he had picked a fat red and black worm up in his fingers
and thrown it at Dora only the day before. So we put him in.

But he would not go in head first, the proper way, and dig with his
hands as we had done, and though Oswald was angry at the time, for he
hates snivellers, yet afterwards he owned that perhaps it was just as
well. You should never be afraid to own that perhaps you were
mistaken--but it is cowardly to do it unless you are quite sure you are
in the wrong.

'Let me go in feet first,' said Albert-next-door. 'I'll dig with my
boots--I will truly, honour bright.'

So we let him get in feet first--and he did it very slowly and at last
he was in, and only his head sticking out into the hole; and all the
rest of him in the tunnel.

'Now dig with your boots,' said Oswald; 'and, Alice, do catch hold of
Pincher, he'll be digging again in another minute, and perhaps it would
be uncomfortable for Albert if Pincher threw the mould into his eyes.'