The March Hare and the Mad Hatter were sipping their eggnog
and watching the crowd when Alice happened to glance in the
Hare's direction and ask, "Why are you giving me such an
angry look?"

"I'm not *giving* it to you, I'm giving it *back*," replied
the Hare.

"I didn't look crossly at you."

"Well, *somebody* did," the Hare said, turning to glare at
the Hatter.

Just then, someone came up from behind and put his hands
over the Hatter's eyes.

"Guess who!" said the newcomer in a thin, flat voice.

The Hatter froze for a moment and declared, rather coldly,
"I have no use for practical jokers."

"Ha! Neither have I," retorted the stranger, still keeping
his hands over the Hatter's eyes.

At that, the Hatter seemed to accept the challenge of the
game and started asking a series of questions in a manner
that mingled hope with care.

Question: "Ahem. Would you, by chance, be in a black suit
this evening?"
Answer: "I would, but not by chance, by design."

Q: "I presume you're a member of all the posh clubs?"
A: "Afraid not. Never even been invited."

Q: "Surely you're better than average?"
A: "Yes, indeed!"

Q: "Not spotted, I hope?"
A: "Knock wood."

Q: "Married?"
A: "No, happy."


Who is behind the Mad Hatter?

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