"What I was going to say", said the Dodo in an offended tone," was, that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race."
"What IS a Caucus-race?" said Alice; not that she wanted much to know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that SOMEBODY ought to speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything.
"Why", said the Dodo, "the best way to explain it is to do it."
It was a curious scene.
First there was a marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle, (the exact shape doesn't matter, the Dodo said,) and then all the party were placed along the course, here and there.
There was no "One, two, three, and away", but they began running when they liked, and left off when they liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race was over.
Some of the participants ran to schools or community centers but others weaved through slot machines and bar stools to participate.
Maids and cooks, bellmen and bartenders, nearly all of whom wore their uniforms and matching name tags, were granted a lunch break to attend.
By the Flamingo, participants at sunset registered their attendance before breaking off into a corner to stand for their preferred candidate. Whilst many of the voters ate from a boxed lunch, the caucus rules were translated into Spanish.
The course, now resembled a Strip and the clout of the Culinary Workers came into question with the dormouse repeatedly asking for fresh place settings and the people dividing nearly equally between Mr. Obama and Mrs. Clinton.
However, when they had been running half an hour or so, and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly called out, "The race is over!" and they all crowded round, panting, and asking, "But who has won"?
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