Wonderland- Woods of No Names

She very soon came to an open field, with a wood on the other side of
it: it looked much darker than the last wood, and Alice felt a _little_
timid about going into it. However, on second thoughts, she made up her
mind to go on: “for I certainly won’t go _back_,” she thought to
herself, and this was the only way to the Eighth Square.

“This must be the wood,” she said thoughtfully to herself, “where
things have no names. I wonder what’ll become of _my_ name when I go
in? I shouldn’t like to lose it at all—because they’d have to give me
another, and it would be almost certain to be an ugly one. But then the
fun would be trying to find the creature that had got my old name!
That’s just like the advertisements, you know, when people lose
dogs—‘_answers to the name of “Dash:” had on a brass collar_’—just
fancy calling everything you met ‘Alice,’ till one of them answered!
Only they wouldn’t answer at all, if they were wise.”

She was rambling on in this way when she reached the wood: it looked
very cool and shady. “Well, at any rate it’s a great comfort,” she said
as she stepped under the trees, “after being so hot, to get into
the—into _what_?” she went on, rather surprised at not being able to
think of the word. “I mean to get under the—under the—under _this_, you
know!” putting her hand on the trunk of the tree. “What _does_ it call
itself, I wonder? I do believe it’s got no name—why, to be sure it
hasn’t!”

She stood silent for a minute, thinking: then she suddenly began again.
“Then it really _has_ happened, after all! And now, who am I? I _will_
remember, if I can! I’m determined to do it!” But being determined
didn’t help much, and all she could say, after a great deal of
puzzling, was, “L, I _know_ it begins with L!”

Just then a Fawn came wandering by: it looked at Alice with its large
gentle eyes, but didn’t seem at all frightened. “Here then! Here then!”
Alice said, as she held out her hand and tried to stroke it; but it
only started back a little, and then stood looking at her again.

“What do you call yourself?” the Fawn said at last. Such a soft sweet
voice it had!

“I wish I knew!” thought poor Alice. She answered, rather sadly,
“Nothing, just now.”

“Think again,” it said: “that won’t do.”

Alice thought, but nothing came of it. “Please, would you tell me what
_you_ call yourself?” she said timidly. “I think that might help a
little.”

“I’ll tell you, if you’ll move a little further on,” the Fawn said. “I
can’t remember here.”

So they walked on together though the wood, Alice with her arms clasped
lovingly round the soft neck of the Fawn, till they came out into
another open field, and here the Fawn gave a sudden bound into the air,
and shook itself free from Alice’s arms. “I’m a Fawn!” it cried out in
a voice of delight, “and, dear me! you’re a human child!” A sudden look
of alarm came into its beautiful brown eyes, and in another moment it
had darted away at full speed.

Alice stood looking after it, almost ready to cry with vexation at
having lost her dear little fellow-traveller so suddenly. “However, I
know my name now.” she said, “that’s _some_ comfort. Alice—Alice—I
won’t forget it again. And now, which of these finger-posts ought I to
follow, I wonder?”

Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There, Chapter 3 - Looking-Glass Insects