Alice looked down and saw that the thread still lay at her feet, but it crept off in differing directions through the wood. She chose what looked to be the longest one and followed it into the trees. She had only taken two steps when she saw a giant fretboard in front of her.
"Do you play?" asked a mouse standing at the edge of the fretboard.
"Play what?" asked Alice politely. "You will... you will... " muttered the mouse.
Alice looked down at the fretboard again. There were a lot of strange looking creatures running back and forth.
Alice turned to a puzzled looking person beside her.
"Excuse me, but what are they doing?" she asked.
"I don't know" replied the person in bewilderment, "I'm just a Guest. I wanted the words to a Garth Brook's song but they said it wasn't Folk."
"What is Folk?" asked Alice.
All at once the creatures stopped their scurrying and looked up at her.
"She wants to know! She wants to know!" they whispered.
Then one of them spoke:
'Twas bodhran, and the slithy notes
Did gyre and fiddle in the wabe:
All mimsy were the dulcimers,
And the guitar raths outgrabe.

"Beware the definition of Folk, my son!
The jaws that bite, the tunes that catch!
Beware the origins of songs, and shun
The frumious Banjosnatch!"

He took his accordian in hand:
Long time the perfect post he sought-
So rested he by the Mudcat tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

"Curioser and curioser!" thought Alice.