“I see you’re admiring my little box,” the Knight said in a friendly tone. “It’s my own invention⁠—to keep clothes and sandwiches in. You see I carry it upside-down, so that the rain can’t get in.”

“But the things can get out ,” Alice gently remarked. “Do you know the lid’s open?”

“I didn’t know it,” the Knight said, a shade of vexation passing over his face. “Then all the things must have fallen out! And the box is no use without them.” He unfastened it as he spoke, and was just going to throw it into the bushes, when a sudden thought seemed to strike him, and he hung it carefully on a tree. “Can you guess why I did that?” he said to Alice.

Alice shook her head.

“In hopes some bees may make a nest in it⁠—then I should get the honey.”

“But you’ve got a beehive⁠—or something like one⁠—fastened to the saddle,” said Alice.