Down The Turtle Hole

Sitting on the riverbank, Alice watched as the muttering turtle slowly pulled the pocketwatch from his shell and looked at the time.
“I’m… late….”
Alice walked over to the turtle and examined its curious markings.
“Why, his shell looks like a waistcoat,” she giggled.
“Stop… or…”
Alice’s sister knew a good turtle soup recipe, and by noon, they had the stew-pot boiling.
“So delicious it was,” they all said.
Alice checked the pocketwatch… still not time to go home yet.
She rested her head on a blanket and had herself a pleasant nap, totally lacking in chessboard and playingcard nightmares.