"Oh!" exclaimed the lady in black, opening her lips for the first time,
and speaking sharply. "You must not say all those names! It is enough
to say your name is Rose."

The child turned and looked at her, studying her face, and then with
heightened colour and with something like indignation in her tone, she
replied: "That _is_ my name! Why should I not tell it when I am
asked?"

The lady said nothing, and the child turned her face to me again.

I said it was a very pretty name and I had been pleased to hear it, and
glad she told it to me without leaving anything out.

Silence still on the part of the lady.

"I think," I resumed, "that you are a rather wonderful child;--have
they taught you the ABC?"

"Oh no, they don't teach me things like that--I pick all that up."

"And one and one make two--do you pick that up as well?"

"Yes, I pick that up as well."

"Then," said I, recollecting Humpty Dumpty's question in arithmetic to
Alice, "how much is one-an'-one-an'-one-an'-one-an'-one-an'-one?"--
speaking it as it should be spoken, very rapidly.