Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, - and what is the use of a book, - thought Alice - without pictures or conversation?
So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

If - and the thing is wildly possible - the charge of writing
nonsense were ever brought against the author of this brief but
instructive poem, it would be based, I feel convinced, on the line (in
p.4)

One thing was certain, that the WHITE kitten had had nothing to do
with it: - it was the black kitten's fault entirely. For the white kitten
had been having its face washed by the old cat for the last quarter of an
hour (and bearing it pretty well, considering); so you see that it
COULDN'T have had any hand in the mischief.