'My finger's bleeding! Oh, oh, oh, oh!'
Her screams were so exactly like the whistle of a steam-engine, that Alice had to hold both her hands over her ears.
'What IS the matter?' she said, as soon as there was a chance of making herself heard. 'Have you pricked your finger?'
'I haven't pricked it YET,' the Queen said, 'but I soon shall—oh, oh, oh!'
'When do you expect to do it?' Alice asked, feeling very much inclined to laugh.
'When I fasten my shawl again,' the poor Queen groaned out: 'the brooch will come undone directly. Oh, oh!' As she said the words the brooch flew open, and the Queen clutched wildly at it, and tried to clasp it again.