ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND



                          Lewis Carroll




CHAPTER I     Down the Rabbit-Hole




  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.

  There was nothing so VERY remarkable in that; nor did Alice
think it so VERY much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to
itself, `Oh dear!  Oh dear!  I shall be late!'  (when she thought
it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have
wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural);
but when the Rabbit actually TOOK A WATCH OUT OF ITS WAISTCOAT-
POCKET, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to
her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never
before see a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to
take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the
field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop
down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.

  In another moment down went Alice after it, never once
considering how in the world she was to get out again.

  The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way,
and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a
moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself
falling down a very deep well.

  Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she
had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to
wonder what was going to happen next.  First, she tried to look
down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to
see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and
noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves;
here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs.  She
took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was
labelled `ORANGE MARMALADE', but to her great disappointment it
way empty:  she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing
somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she
fell past it.

  `Well!' thought Alice to herself, `after such a fall as this, I
shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs!  How brave they'll
all think me at home!  Why, I wouldn't say anything about it,
even if I fell off the top of the house!' (Which was very likely
true.)

  Down, down, down.  Would the fall NEVER come to an end!  `I
wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud.
`I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth.  Let
me see:  that would be four thousand miles down, I think--' (for,
you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her
lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a VERY good
opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to
listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) `--yes,
that's about the right distance--but then I wonder what Latitude
or Longitude I've got to?'  (Alice had no idea what Latitude was,
or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to
say.)

  Presently she began again.  `I wonder if I shall fall right
THROUGH the earth!  How funny it'll seem to come out among the
people that walk with their heads downward!  The Antipathies, I
think--' (she was rather glad there WAS no one listening, this
time, as it didn't sound at all the right word) `--but I shall
have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know.
Please, Ma'am, is this New Zealand or Australia?' (and she tried
to curtsey as she spoke--fancy CURTSEYING as you're falling
through the air!  Do you think you could manage it?)  `And what
an ignorant little girl she'll think me for asking!  No, it'll
never do to ask:  perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.'

  Down, down, down.  There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon
began talking again.  Dinah'll miss me very much to-night, I
should think!'  (Dinah was the cat.)  `I hope they'll remember
her saucer of milk at tea-time.  Dinah my dear!  I wish you were
down here with me!  There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but
you might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, you know.
But do cats eat bats, I wonder?'  And here Alice began to get
rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of
way, `Do cats eat bats?  Do cats eat bats?' and sometimes, `Do
bats eat cats?' for, you see, as she couldn't answer either
question, it didn't much matter which way she put it.  She felt
that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she
was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very
earnestly, `Now, Dinah, tell me the truth:  did you ever eat a
bat?' when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of
stick and dry leaves, and the fall was over.

  Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a
moment:  she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her
was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in
sight, hurrying down it.  There was not a moment to be lost:
away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it
say, as it turned a corner, `Oh my ears and whiskers, how late
it's getting!'  She was close behind it when she turned to
corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen:  she found
herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps
hanging from the roof.

  There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked;
and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the
other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle,
wondering how she was ever to get out again.

  Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of
solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key,
and Alice's first thought was that it might belong to one of the
doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or
the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of
them.  However, on the second time round, she came upon a low
curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little
door about fifteen inches high:  she tried the little golden key
in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!

  Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small
passage, not much larger than a rat-hole:  she knelt down and
looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw.
How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about
among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but
she could to even get her head thought he doorway; `and even if
my head would go through,' thought poor Alice, `it would be of
very little use without my shoulders.  Oh, how I wish
I could shut up like a telescope!  I think I could, if I only
know how to begin.'  For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things
had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few
things indeed were really impossible.

  There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she
went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on
it, or at any rate a book or rules for shutting people up like
telescopes:  this time she found a little bottle on it, (`which
certainly was not here before,' said Alice,) and round the neck
of the bottle was a paper label, with the words `DRINK ME'
beautifully printed on it in large letters.

  It was all very well to say `Drink me,' but the wise little
Alice was not going to do THAT in a hurry.  `No, I'll look
first,' she said, `and see whether it's marked "poison" or not';
for she had read several nice little histories about children who
had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant
things, all because they WOULD not remember the simple rules
their friends had taught them:  such as, that a red-hot poker
will burn you if your hold it too long; and that if you cut your
finger VERY deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had
never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked
`poison,' it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or
later.

  However, this bottle was NOT marked `poison,' so Alice ventured
to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort
of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast
turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished
it off.

     *       *       *       *       *       *       *

         *       *       *       *       *       *

     *       *       *       *       *       *       *

  `What a curious feeling!' said Alice; `I must be shutting up
like a telescope.'

  And so it was indeed:  she was now only ten inches high, and
her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right
size for going though the little door into that lovely garden.
First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was
going to shrink any further:  she felt a little nervous about
this; `for it might end, you know,' said Alice to herself, `in my
going out altogether, like a candle.  I wonder what I should be
like then?'  And she tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is
like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember
ever having seen such a thing.

  After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided
on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when
she got to the door, she found he had forgotten the little golden
key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she
could not possibly reach it:  she could see it quite plainly
through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the
legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had
tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and
cried.

  `Come, there's no use in crying like that!' said Alice to
herself, rather sharply; `I advise you to leave off this minute!'
She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very
seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so
severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered
trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game
of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious
child was very fond of pretending to be two people.  `But it's no
use now,' thought poor Alice, `to pretend to be two people!  Why,
there's hardly enough of me left to make ONE respectable
person!'

  Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under
the table:  she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on
which the words `EAT ME' were beautifully marked in currants.
`Well, I'll eat it,' said Alive, `and if it makes me grow larger,
I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep
under the door; so either way I'll get into the garden, and I
don't care which happens!'

  She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, `Which
way?  Which way?', holding her hand on the top of her head to
feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to
find that she remained the same size:  to be sure, this generally
happens when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much into the
way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen,
that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the
common way.

  So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.

     *       *       *       *       *       *       *

         *       *       *       *       *       *

     *       *       *       *       *       *       *



CHAPTER II    The Pool of Tears




  `Curiouser and curiouser!' cried Alice (she was so much
surprised, that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good
English); `now I'm opening out like the largest telescope that
ever was!  Good-bye, feet!' (for when she looked down at her
feet, they seemed to be almost out of sight, they were getting so
far off).  `Oh, my poor little feet, I wonder who will put on
your shoes and stockings for you now, dears?  I'm sure _I_ shan't
be able!  I shall be a great deal too far off to trouble myself
about you:  you must manage the best way you can; --but I must be
kind to them,' thought Alice, `or perhaps they won't walk the
way I want to go!  Let me see:  I'll give them a new pair of
boots every Christmas.'

  And she went on planning to herself how she would manage it.
`They must go by the carrier,' she thought; `and how funny it'll
seem, sending presents to one's own feet!  And how odd the
directions will look!

            ALICE'S RIGHT FOOT, ESQ.
                HEARTHRUG,
                    NEAR THE FENDER,
                        (WITH ALICE'S LOVE).

Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking!'

  Just then her head struck against the roof of the hall:  in
fact she was now more than nine feet high, and she at once took
up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door.

  Poor Alice!  It was as much as she could do, lying down on one
side, to look through into the garden with one eye; but to get
through was more hopeless than ever:  she sat down and began to
cry again.

  `You ought to be ashamed of yourself,' said Alice, `a great
girl like you,' (she might well say this), `to go on crying in
this way!  Stop this moment, I tell you!'  But she went on all
the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool
all round her, about four inches deep and reaching half down the
hall.

  After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the
distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming.
It was the White Rabbit returning, splendidly dressed, with a
pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the
other:  he came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to
himself as he came, `Oh! the Duchess, the Duchess! Oh! won't she
be savage if I've kept her waiting!'  Alice felt so desperate
that she was ready to ask help of any one; so, when the Rabbit
came near her, she began, in a low, timid voice, `If you please,
sir--'  The Rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid
gloves and the fan, and skurried away into the darkness as hard
as he could go.

  Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was very
hot, she kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking:
`Dear, dear!  How queer everything is to-day!  And yesterday
things went on just as usual.  I wonder if I've been changed in
the night?  Let me think:  was I the same when I got up this
morning?  I almost think I can remember feeling a little
different.  But if I'm not the same, the next question is, Who in
the world am I?  Ah, THAT'S the great puzzle!'  And she began
thinking over all the children she knew that were of the same age
as herself, to see if she could have been changed for any of
them.

  `I'm sure I'm not Ada,' she said, `for her hair goes in such
long ringlets, and mine doesn't go in ringlets at all; and I'm
sure I can't be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things, and she,
oh! she knows such a very little!  Besides, SHE'S she, and I'm I,
and--oh dear, how puzzling it all is!  I'll try if I know all the
things I used to know.  Let me see:  four times five is twelve,
and four times six is thirteen, and four times seven is--oh dear!
I shall never get to twenty at that rate!  However, the
Multiplication Table doesn't signify:  let's try Geography.
London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital of
Rome, and Rome--no, THAT'S all wrong, I'm certain!  I must have
been changed for Mabel!  I'll try and say "How doth the little--
"' and she crossed her hands on her lap as if she were saying
lessons, and began to repeat it, but her voice sounded hoarse
and strange, and the words did not come the same as they used to
do:--

            `How doth the little crocodile
              Improve his shining tail,
            And pour the waters of the Nile
              On every golden scale!

            `How cheerfully he seems to grin,
              How neatly spread his claws,
            And welcome little fishes in
              With gently smiling jaws!'

  `I'm sure those are not the right words,' said poor Alice, and
her eyes filled with tears again as she went on, `I must be Mabel
after all, and I shall have to go and live in that poky little
house, and have next to no toys to play with, and oh! ever so
many lessons to learn!  No, I've made up my mind about it; if I'm
Mabel, I'll stay down here!  It'll be no use their putting their
heads down and saying "Come up again, dear!"  I shall only look
up and say "Who am I then?  Tell me that first, and then, if I
like being that person, I'll come up:  if not, I'll stay down
here till I'm somebody else"--but, oh dear!' cried Alice, with a
sudden burst of tears, `I do wish they WOULD put their heads
down!  I am so VERY tired of being all alone here!'

  As she said this she looked down at her hands, and was
surprised to see that she had put on one of the Rabbit's little
white kid gloves while she was talking.  `How CAN I have done
that?' she thought.  `I must be growing small again.'  She got up
and went to the table to measure herself by it, and found that,
as nearly as she could guess, she was now about two feet high,
and was going on shrinking rapidly:  she soon found out that the
cause of this was the fan she was holding, and she dropped it
hastily, just in time to avoid shrinking away altogether.

`That WAS a narrow escape!' said Alice, a good deal frightened at
the sudden change, but very glad to find herself still in
existence; `and now for the garden!' and she ran with all speed
back to the little door:  but, alas! the little door was shut
again, and the little golden key was lying on the glass table as
before, `and things are worse than ever,' thought the poor child,
`for I never was so small as this before, never!  And I declare
it's too bad, that it is!'

  As she said these words her foot slipped, and in another
moment, splash! she was up to her chin in salt water.  He first
idea was that she had somehow fallen into the sea, `and in that
case I can go back by railway,' she said to herself.  (Alice had
been to the seaside once in her life, and had come to the general
conclusion, that wherever you go to on the English coast you find
a number of bathing machines in the sea, some children digging in
the sand with wooden spades, then a row of lodging houses, and
behind them a railway station.)  However, she soon made out that
she was in the pool of tears which she had wept when she was nine
feet high.

  `I wish I hadn't cried so much!' said Alice, as she swam about,
trying to find her way out.  `I shall be punished for it now, I
suppose, by being drowned in my own tears!  That WILL be a queer
thing, to be sure!  However, everything is queer to-day.'

  Just then she heard something splashing about in the pool a
little way off, and she swam nearer to make out what it was:  at
first she thought it must be a walrus or hippopotamus, but then
she remembered how small she was now, and she soon made out that
it was only a mouse that had slipped in like herself.

  `Would it be of any use, now,' thought Alice, `to speak to this
mouse?  Everything is so out-of-the-way down here, that I should
think very likely it can talk:  at any rate, there's no harm in
trying.'  So she began:  `O Mouse, do you know the way out of
this pool?  I am very tired of swimming about here, O Mouse!'
(Alice thought this must be the right way of speaking to a mouse:
she had never done such a thing before, but she remembered having
seen in her brother's Latin Grammar, `A mouse--of a mouse--to a
mouse--a mouse--O mouse!'  The Mouse looked at her rather
inquisitively, and seemed to her to wink with one of its little
eyes, but it said nothing.

  `Perhaps it doesn't understand English,' thought Alice; `I
daresay it's a French mouse, come over with William the
Conqueror.'  (For, with all her knowledge of history, Alice had
no very clear notion how long ago anything had happened.)  So she
began again:  `Ou est ma chatte?' which was the first sentence in
her French lesson-book.  The Mouse gave a sudden leap out of the
water, and seemed to quiver all over with fright.  `Oh, I beg
your pardon!' cried Alice hastily, afraid that she had hurt the
poor animal's feelings.  `I quite forgot you didn't like cats.'

  `Not like cats!' cried the Mouse, in a shrill, passionate
voice.  `Would YOU like cats if you were me?'

  `Well, perhaps not,' said Alice in a soothing tone:  `don't be
angry about it.  And yet I wish I could show you our cat Dinah:
I think you'd take a fancy to cats if you could only see her.
She is such a dear quiet thing,' Alice went on, half to herself,
as she swam lazily about in the pool, `and she sits purring so
nicely by the fire, licking her paws and washing her face--and
she is such a nice soft thing to nurse--and she's such a capital
one for catching mice--oh, I beg your pardon!' cried Alice again,
for this time the Mouse was bristling all over, and she felt
certain it must be really offended.  `We won't talk about her any
more if you'd rather not.'

  `We indeed!' cried the Mouse, who was trembling down to the end
of his tail.  `As if I would talk on such a subject!  Our family
always HATED cats:  nasty, low, vulgar things!  Don't let me hear
the name again!'

  `I won't indeed!' said Alice, in a great hurry to change the
subject of conversation.  `Are you--are you fond--of--of dogs?'
The Mouse did not answer, so Alice went on eagerly:  `There is
such a nice little dog near our house I should like to show you!
A little bright-eyed terrier, you know, with oh, such long curly
brown hair!  And it'll fetch things when you throw them, and
it'll sit up and beg for its dinner, and all sorts of thins--I
can't remember half of them--and it belongs to a farmer, you
know, and he says it's so useful, it's worth a hundred pounds!
He says it kills all the rats and--oh dear!' cried Alice in a
sorrowful tone, `I'm afraid I've offended it again!'  For the
Mouse was swimming away from her as hard as it could go, and
making quite a commotion in the pool as it went.

  So she called softly after it, `Mouse dear!  Do come back
again, and we won't talk about cats or dogs either, if you don't
like them!'  When the Mouse heard this, it turned round and swam
slowly back to her:  its face was quite pale (with passion, Alice
thought), and it said in a low trembling voice, `Let us get to
the shore, and then I'll tell you my history, and you'll
understand why it is I hate cats and dogs.'

  It was high time to go, for the pool was getting quite crowded
with the birds and animals that had fallen into it:  there were a
Duck and a Dodo, a Lory and an Eaglet, and several other curious
creatures.  Alice led the way, and the whole party swam to the
shore.




CHAPTER III   A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale




  They were indeed a queer-looking party that assembled on the
bank--the birds with draggled feathers, the animals with their
fur clinging close to them, and all dripping wet, cross, and
uncomfortable.

  The first question of course was, how to get dry again:  they
had a consultation about this, and after a few minutes it seemed
quite natural to Alice to find herself talking familiarly with
them, as if she had known them all her life.  Indeed, she had
quite a long argument with the Lory, who at last turned sulky,
and would only say, `I am older than you, and must know better';
and this Alice would not allow without knowing how old it was,
and, as the Lory positively refused to tell its age, there was no
more to be said.

  At last the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of authority among
them, called out, `Sit down, all of you, and listen to me!  I'LL
soon make you dry enough!'  They all sat down at once, in a large
ring, with the Mouse in the middle.  Alice kept her eyes
anxiously fixed on it, for she felt sure she would catch a bad
cold if she did not get dry very soon.

  `Ahem!' said the Mouse with an important air, `are you all
ready?  This is the driest thing I know.  Silence all round, if
you please!  "William the Conqueror, whose cause was favoured by
the pope, was soon submitted to by the English, who wanted
leaders, and had been of late much accustomed to usurpation and
conquest.  Edwin and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria-
-"'

  `Ugh!' said the Lory, with a shiver.

  `I beg your pardon!' said the Mouse, frowning, but very
politely:  `Did you speak?'

  `Not I!' said the Lory hastily.

  `I thought you did,' said the Mouse.  `--I proceed.  "Edwin and
Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria, declared for him:
and even Stigand, the patriotic archbishop of Canterbury, found
it advisable--"'

  `Found WHAT?' said the Duck.

  `Found IT,' the Mouse replied rather crossly:  `of course you
know what "it" means.'

  `I know what "it" means well enough, when I find a thing,' said
the Duck:  `it's generally a frog or a worm.  The question is,
what did the archbishop find?'

  The Mouse did not notice this question, but hurriedly went on,
`"--found it advisable to go with Edgar Atheling to meet William
and offer him the crown.  William's conduct at first was
moderate.  But the insolence of his Normans--"  How are you
getting on now, my dear?' it continued, turning to Alice as it
spoke.

  `As wet as ever,' said Alice in a melancholy tone:  `it doesn't
seem to dry me at all.'

  `In that case,' said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its feet, `I
move that the meeting adjourn, for the immediate adoption of more
energetic remedies--'

  `Speak English!' said the Eaglet.  `I don't know the meaning of
half those long words, and, what's more, I don't believe you do
either!'  And the Eaglet bent down its head to hide a smile:
some of the other birds tittered audibly.

  `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.'
(And, as you might like to try the thing yourself, some winter
day, I will tell you how the Dodo managed it.)

  First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle, (`the
exact shape doesn't matter,' it 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.  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 it, panting,
and asking, `But who has won?'

  This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of
thought, and it sat for a long time with one finger pressed upon
its forehead (the position in which you usually see Shakespeare,
in the pictures of him), while the rest waited in silence.  At
last the Dodo said, `EVERYBODY has won, and all must have
prizes.'

  `But who is to give the prizes?' quite a chorus of voices
asked.

  `Why, SHE, of course,' said the Dodo, pointing to Alice with
one finger; and the whole party at once crowded round her,
calling out in a confused way, `Prizes! Prizes!'

  Alice had no idea what to do, and in despair she put her hand
in her pocket, and pulled out a box of comfits, (luckily the salt
water had not got into it), and handed them round as prizes.
There was exactly one a-piece all round.

  `But she must have a prize herself, you know,' said the Mouse.

  `Of course,' the Dodo replied very gravely.  `What else have
you got in your pocket?' he went on, turning to Alice.

  `Only a thimble,' said Alice sadly.

  `Hand it over here,' said the Dodo.

  Then they all crowded round her once more, while the Dodo
solemnly presented the thimble, saying `We beg your acceptance of
this elegant thimble'; and, when it had finished this short
speech, they all cheered.

  Alice thought the whole thing very absurd, but they all looked
so grave that she did not dare to laugh; and, as she could not
think of anything to say, she simply bowed, and took the thimble,
looking as solemn as she could.

  The next thing was to eat the comfits:  this caused some noise
and confusion, as the large birds complained that they could not
taste theirs, and the small ones choked and had to be patted on
the back.  However, it was over at last, and they sat down again
in a ring, and begged the Mouse to tell them something more.

  `You promised to tell me your history, you know,' said Alice,
`and why it is you hate--C and D,' she added in a whisper, half
afraid that it would be offended again.

  `Mine is a long and a sad tale!' said the Mouse, turning to
Alice, and sighing.

  `It IS a long tail, certainly,' said Alice, looking down with
wonder at the Mouse's tail' `but why do you call it sad?'  And
she kept on puzzling about it while the Mouse was speaking, so
that her idea of the tale was something like this:--

                    `Fury said to a
                   mouse, That he
                 met in the
               house,
            "Let us
              both go to
                law:  I will
                  prosecute
                    YOU.  --Come,
                       I'll take no
                        denial; We
                     must have a
                 trial:  For
              really this
           morning I've
          nothing
         to do."
           Said the
             mouse to the
               cur, "Such
                 a trial,
                   dear Sir,
                         With
                     no jury
                  or judge,
                would be
              wasting
             our
              breath."
               "I'll be
                 judge, I'll
                   be jury,"
                         Said
                    cunning
                      old Fury:
                     "I'll
                      try the
                         whole
                          cause,
                             and
                        condemn
                       you
                      to
                       death."


  `You are not attending!' said the Mouse to Alice severely.
`What are you thinking of?'

  `I beg your pardon,' said Alice very humbly:  `you had got to
the fifth bend, I think?'

  `I had NOT!' cried the Mouse, sharply and very angrily.

  `A knot!' said Alice, always ready to make herself useful, and
looking anxiously about her.  `Oh, do let me help to undo it!'

  `I shall do nothing of the sort,' said the Mouse, getting up
and walking away.  `You insult me by talking such nonsense!'

  `I didn't mean it!' pleaded poor Alice.  `But you're so easily
offended, you know!'

  The Mouse only growled in reply.

  `Please come back and finish your story!' Alice called after
it; and the others all joined in chorus, `Yes, please do!' but
the Mouse only shook its head impatiently, and walked a little
quicker.

  `What a pity it wouldn't stay!' sighed the Lory, as soon as it
was quite out of sight; and an old Crab took the opportunity of
saying to her daughter `Ah, my dear!  Let this be a lesson to you
never to lose YOUR temper!'  `Hold your tongue, Ma!' said the
young Crab, a little snappishly.  `You're enough to try the
patience of an oyster!'

  `I wish I had our Dinah here, I know I do!' said Alice aloud,
addressing nobody in particular.  `She'd soon fetch it back!'

  `And who is Dinah, if I might venture to ask the question?'
said the Lory.

  Alice replied eagerly, for she was always ready to talk about
her pet:  `Dinah's our cat.  And she's such a capital one for
catching mice you can't think!  And oh, I wish you could see her
after the birds!  Why, she'll eat a little bird as soon as look
at it!'

  This speech caused a remarkable sensation among the party.
Some of the birds hurried off at once:  one the old Magpie began
wrapping itself up very carefully, remarking, `I really must be
getting home; the night-air doesn't suit my throat!' and a Canary
called out in a trembling voice to its children, `Come away, my
dears!  It's high time you were all in bed!'  On various pretexts
they all moved off, and Alice was soon left alone.

  `I wish I hadn't mentioned Dinah!' she said to herself in a
melancholy tone.  `Nobody seems to like her, down here, and I'm
sure she's the best cat in the world!  Oh, my dear Dinah!  I
wonder if I shall ever see you any more!'  And here poor Alice
began to cry again, for she felt very lonely and low-spirited.
In a little while, however, she again heard a little pattering of
footsteps in the distance, and she looked up eagerly, half hoping
that the Mouse had changed his mind, and was coming back to
finish his story.



CHAPTER IV    The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill




  It was the White Rabbit, trotting slowly back again, and
looking anxiously about as it went, as if it had lost something;
and she heard it muttering to itself `The Duchess!  The Duchess!
Oh my dear paws!  Oh my fur and whiskers!  She'll get me
executed, as sure as ferrets are ferrets!  Where CAN I have
dropped them, I wonder?'  Alice guessed in a moment that it was
looking for the fan and the pair of white kid gloves, and she
very good-naturedly began hunting about for them, but they were
nowhere to be seen--everything seemed to have changed since her
swim in the pool, and the great hall, with the glass table and
the little door, had vanished completely.

  Very soon the Rabbit noticed Alice, as she went hunting about,
and called out to her in an angry tone, `Why, Mary Ann, what ARE
you doing out here?  Run home this moment, and fetch me a pair of
gloves and a fan!  Quick, now!'  And Alice was so much frightened
that she ran off at once in the direction it pointed to, without
trying to explain the mistake it had made.

  `He took me for his housemaid,' she said to herself as she ran.
`How surprised he'll be when he finds out who I am!  But I'd
better take him his fan and gloves--that is, if I can find them.'
As she said this, she came upon a neat little house, on the door
of which was a bright brass plate with the name `W. RABBIT'
engraved upon it.  She went in without knocking, and hurried
upstairs, in great fear lest she should meet the real Mary Ann,
and be turned out of the house before she had found the fan and
gloves.

  `How queer it seems,' Alice said to herself, `to be going
messages for a rabbit!  I suppose Dinah'll be sending me on
messages next!'  And she began fancying the sort of thing that
would happen:  `"Miss Alice!  Come here directly, and get ready
for your walk!" "Coming in a minute, nurse!  But I've got to see
that the mouse doesn't get out."  Only I don't think,' Alice went
on, `that they'd let Dinah stop in the house if it began ordering
people about like that!'

  By this time she had found her way into a tidy little room with
a table in the window, and on it (as she had hoped) a fan and two
or three pairs of tiny white kid gloves:  she took up the fan and
a pair of the gloves, and was just going to leave the room, when
her eye fell upon a little bottle that stood near the looking-
glass.  There was no label this time with the words `DRINK ME,'
but nevertheless she uncorked it and put it to her lips.  `I know
SOMETHING interesting is sure to happen,' she said to herself,
`whenever I eat or drink anything; so I'll just see what this
bottle does.  I do hope it'll make me grow large again, for
really I'm quite tired of being such a tiny little thing!'

  It did so indeed, and much sooner than she had expected:
before she had drunk half the bottle, she found her head pressing
against the ceiling, and had to stoop to save her neck from being
broken.  She hastily put down the bottle, saying to herself
`That's quite enough--I hope I shan't grow any more--As it is, I
can't get out at the door--I do wish I hadn't drunk quite so
much!'

  Alas! it was too late to wish that!  She went on growing, and
growing, and very soon had to kneel down on the floor:  in
another minute there was not even room for this, and she tried
the effect of lying down with one elbow against the door, and the
other arm curled round her head.  Still she went on growing, and,
as a last resource, she put one arm out of the window, and one
foot up the chimney, and said to herself `Now I can do no more,
whatever happens.  What WILL become of me?'

  Luckily for Alice, the little magic bottle had now had its full
effect, and she grew no larger:  still it was very uncomfortable,
and, as there seemed to be no sort of chance of her ever getting
out of the room again, no wonder she felt unhappy.

  `It was much pleasanter at home,' thought poor Alice, `when one
wasn't always growing larger and smaller, and being ordered about
by mice and rabbits.  I almost wish I hadn't gone down that
rabbit-hole--and yet--and yet--it's rather curious, you know,
this sort of life!  I do wonder what CAN have happened to me!
When I used to read fairy-tales, I fancied that kind of thing
never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one!  There
ought to be a book written about me, that there ought!  And when
I grow up, I'll write one--but I'm grown up now,' she added in a
sorrowful tone; `at least there's no room to grow up any more
HERE.'

  `But then,' thought Alice, `shall I NEVER get any older than I
am now?  That'll be a comfort, one way--never to be an old woman-
-but then--always to have lessons to learn!  Oh, I shouldn't like
THAT!'

  `Oh, you foolish Alice!' she answered herself.  `How can you
learn lessons in here?  Why, there's hardly room for YOU, and no
room at all for any lesson-books!'

  And so she went on, taking first one side and then the other,
and making quite a conversation of it altogether; but after a few
minutes she heard a voice outside, and stopped to listen.

  `Mary Ann!  Mary Ann!' said the voice.  `Fetch me my gloves
this moment!'  Then came a little pattering of feet on the
stairs.  Alice knew it was the Rabbit coming to look for her, and
she trembled till she shook the house, quite forgetting that she
was now about a thousand times as large as the Rabbit, and had no
reason to be afraid of it.

  Presently the Rabbit came up to the door, and tried to open it;
but, as the door opened inwards, and Alice's elbow was pressed
hard against it, that attempt proved a failure.  Alice heard it
say to itself `Then I'll go round and get in at the window.'

  `THAT you won't' thought Alice, and, after waiting till she
fancied she heard the Rabbit just under the window, she suddenly
spread out her hand, and made a snatch in the air.  She did not
get hold of anything, but she heard a little shriek and a fall,
and a crash of broken glass, from which she concluded that it was
just possible it had fallen into a cucumber-frame, or something
of the sort.

  Next came an angry voice--the Rabbit's--`Pat! Pat!  Where are
you?'  And then a voice she had never heard before, `Sure then
I'm here!  Digging for apples, yer honour!'

  `Digging for apples, indeed!' said the Rabbit angrily.  `Here!
Come and help me out of THIS!'  (Sounds of more broken glass.)

  `Now tell me, Pat, what's that in the window?'

  `Sure, it's an arm, yer honour!'  (He pronounced it `arrum.')

  `An arm, you goose!   Who ever saw one that size?  Why, it
fills the whole window!'

  `Sure, it does, yer honour:  but it's an arm for all that.'

  `Well, it's got no business there, at any rate:  go and take it
away!'

  There was a long silence after this, and Alice could only hear
whispers now and then; such as, `Sure, I don't like it, yer
honour, at all, at all!'  `Do as I tell you, you coward!' and at
last she spread out her hand again, and made another snatch in
the air.  This time there were TWO little shrieks, and more
sounds of broken glass.  `What a number of cucumber-frames there
must be!' thought Alice.  `I wonder what they'll do next!  As for
pulling me out of the window, I only wish they COULD!  I'm sure I
don't want to stay in here any longer!'

  She waited for some time without hearing anything more:  at
last came a rumbling of little cartwheels, and the sound of a
good many voice all talking together:  she made out the words:
`Where's the other ladder?--Why, I hadn't to bring but one;
Bill's got the other--Bill! fetch it here, lad!--Here, put 'em up
at this corner--No, tie 'em together first--they don't reach half
high enough yet--Oh! they'll do well enough; don't be particular-
-Here, Bill! catch hold of this rope--Will the roof bear?--Mind
that loose slate--Oh, it's coming down!  Heads below!' (a loud
crash)--`Now, who did that?--It was Bill, I fancy--Who's to go
down the chimney?--Nay, I shan't! YOU do it!--That I won't,
then!--Bill's to go down--Here, Bill! the master says you're to
go down the chimney!'

  `Oh! So Bill's got to come down the chimney, has he?' said
Alice to herself.  `Shy, they seem to put everything upon Bill!
I wouldn't be in Bill's place for a good deal:  this fireplace is
narrow, to be sure; but I THINK I can kick a little!'

  She drew her foot as far down the chimney as she could, and
waited till she heard a little animal (she couldn't guess of what
sort it was) scratching and scrambling about in the chimney close
above her:  then, saying to herself `This is Bill,' she gave one
sharp kick, and waited to see what would happen next.

  The first thing she heard was a general chorus of `There goes
Bill!' then the Rabbit's voice along--`Catch him, you by the
hedge!' then silence, and then another confusion of voices--`Hold
up his head--Brandy now--Don't choke him--How was it, old fellow?
What happened to you?  Tell us all about it!'

  Last came a little feeble, squeaking voice, (`That's Bill,'
thought Alice,) `Well, I hardly know--No more, thank ye; I'm
better now--but I'm a deal too flustered to tell you--all I know
is, something comes at me like a Jack-in-the-box, and up I goes
like a sky-rocket!'

  `So you did, old fellow!' said the others.

  `We must burn the house down!' said the Rabbit's voice; and
Alice called out as loud as she could, `If you do.  I'll set
Dinah at you!'

  There was a dead silence instantly, and Alice thought to
herself, `I wonder what they WILL do next!  If they had any
sense, they'd take the roof off.'  After a minute or two, they
began moving about again, and Alice heard the Rabbit say, `A
barrowful will do, to begin with.'

  `A barrowful of WHAT?' thought Alice; but she had not long to
doubt, for the next moment a shower of little pebbles came
rattling in at the window, and some of them hit her in the face.
`I'll put a stop to this,' she said to herself, and shouted out,
`You'd better not do that again!' which produced another dead
silence.

  Alice noticed with some surprise that the pebbles were all
turning into little cakes as they lay on the floor, and a bright
idea came into her head.  `If I eat one of these cakes,' she
thought, `it's sure to make SOME change in my size; and as it
can't possibly make me larger, it must make me smaller, I
suppose.'

  So she swallowed one of the cakes, and was delighted to find
that she began shrinking directly.  As soon as she was small
enough to get through the door, she ran out of the house, and
found quite a crowd of little animals and birds waiting outside.
The poor little Lizard, Bill, was in the middle, being held up by
two guinea-pigs, who were giving it something out of a bottle.
They all made a rush at Alice the moment she appeared; but she
ran off as hard as she could, and soon found herself safe in a
thick wood.

  `The first thing I've got to do,' said Alice to herself, as she
wandered about in the wood, `is to grow to my right size again;
and the second thing is to find my way into that lovely garden.
I think that will be the best plan.'

  It sounded an excellent plan, no doubt, and very neatly and
simply arranged; the only difficulty was, that she had not the
smallest idea how to set about it; and while she was peering
about anxiously among the trees, a little sharp bark just over
her head made her look up in a great hurry.

  An enormous puppy was looking down at her with large round
eyes, and feebly stretching out one paw, trying to touch her.
`Poor little thing!' said Alice, in a coaxing tone, and she tried
hard to whistle to it; but she was terribly frightened all the
time at the thought that it might be hungry, in which case it
would be very likely to eat her up in spite of all her coaxing.

  Hardly knowing what she did, she picked up a little bit of
stick, and held it out to the puppy; whereupon the puppy jumped
into the air off all its feet at once, with a yelp of delight,
and rushed at the stick, and made believe to worry it; then Alice
dodged behind a great thistle, to keep herself from being run
over; and the moment she appeared on the other side, the puppy
made another rush at the stick, and tumbled head over heels in
its hurry to get hold of it; then Alice, thinking it was very
like having a game of play with a cart-horse, and expecting every
moment to be trampled under its feet, ran round the thistle
again; then the puppy began a series of short charges at the
stick, running a very little way forwards each time and a long
way back, and barking hoarsely all the while, till at last it sat
down a good way off, panting, with its tongue hanging out of its
mouth, and its great eyes half shut.

  This seemed to Alice a good opportunity for making her escape;
so she set off at once, and ran till she was quite tired and out
of breath, and till the puppy's bark sounded quite faint in the
distance.

  `And yet what a dear little puppy it was!' said Alice, as she
leant against a buttercup to rest herself, and fanned herself
with one of the leaves:  `I should have liked teaching it tricks
very much, if--if I'd only been the right size to do it!  Oh
dear!  I'd nearly forgotten that I've got to grow up again!  Let
me see--how IS it to be managed?  I suppose I ought to eat or
drink something or other; but the great question is, what?'

  The great question certainly was, what?  Alice looked all round
her at the flowers and the blades of grass, but she did not see
anything that looked like the right thing to eat or drink under
the circumstances.  There was a large mushroom growing near her,
about the same height as herself; and when she had looked under
it, and on both sides of it, and behind it, it occurred to her
that she might as well look and see what was on the top of it.

  She stretched herself up on tiptoe, and peeped over the edge of
the mushroom, and her eyes immediately met those of a large
caterpillar, that was sitting on the top with its arms folded,
quietly smoking a long hookah, and taking not the smallest notice
of her or of anything else.



CHAPTER V     Advice from a Caterpillar




  The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in
silence:  at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its
mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.

  `Who are YOU?' said the Caterpillar.

  This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation.  Alice
replied, rather shyly, `I--I hardly know, sir, just at present--
at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think
I must have been changed several times since then.'

  `What do you mean by that?' said the Caterpillar sternly.
`Explain yourself!'

  `I can't explain MYSELF, I'm afraid, sir' said Alice, `because
I'm not myself, you see.'

  `I don't see,' said the Caterpillar.

  `I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly,' Alice replied very
politely, `for I can't understand it myself to begin with; and
being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.'

  `It isn't,' said the Caterpillar.

  `Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet,' said Alice; `but
when you have to turn into a chrysalis--you will some day, you
know--and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you'll
feel it a little queer, won't you?'

  `Not a bit,' said the Caterpillar.

  `Well, perhaps your feelings may be different,' said Alice;
`all I know is, it would feel very queer to ME.'

  `You!' said the Caterpillar contemptuously.  `Who are YOU?'

  Which brought them back again to the beginning of the
conversation.  Alice felt a little irritated at the Caterpillar's
making such VERY short remarks, and she drew herself up and said,
very gravely, `I think, you out to tell me who YOU are, first.'

  `Why?' said the Caterpillar.

  Here was another puzzling question; and as Alice could not
think of any good reason, and as the Caterpillar seemed to be in
a VERY unpleasant state of mind, she turned away.

  `Come back!' the Caterpillar called after her.  `I've something
important to say!'

  This sounded promising, certainly:  Alice turned and came back
again.

  `Keep your temper,' said the Caterpillar.

  `Is that all?' said Alice, swallowing down her anger as well as
she could.

  `No,' said the Caterpillar.

  Alice thought she might as well wait, as she had nothing else
to do, and perhaps after all it might tell her something worth
hearing.  For some minutes it puffed away without speaking, but
at last it unfolded its arms, took the hookah out of its mouth
again, and said, `So you think you're changed, do you?'

  `I'm afraid I am, sir,' said Alice; `I can't remember things as
I used--and I don't keep the same size for ten minutes together!'

  `Can't remember WHAT things?' said the Caterpillar.

  `Well, I've tried to say "HOW DOTH THE LITTLE BUSY BEE," but it
all came different!' Alice replied in a very melancholy voice.

  `Repeat, "YOU ARE OLD, FATHER WILLIAM,"' said the Caterpillar.

  Alice folded her hands, and began:--

    `You are old, Father William,' the young man said,
      `And your hair has become very white;
    And yet you incessantly stand on your head--
      Do you think, at your age, it is right?'

    `In my youth,' Father William replied to his son,
      `I feared it might injure the brain;
    But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
      Why, I do it again and again.'

    `You are old,' said the youth, `as I mentioned before,
      And have grown most uncommonly fat;
    Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door--
      Pray, what is the reason of that?'

    `In my youth,' said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
      `I kept all my limbs very supple
    By the use of this ointment--one shilling the box--
      Allow me to sell you a couple?'

    `You are old,' said the youth, `and your jaws are too weak
      For anything tougher than suet;
    Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak--
      Pray how did you manage to do it?'

    `In my youth,' said his father, `I took to the law,
      And argued each case with my wife;
    And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
      Has lasted the rest of my life.'

    `You are old,' said the youth, `one would hardly suppose
      That your eye was as steady as ever;
    Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose--
      What made you so awfully clever?'

    `I have answered three questions, and that is enough,'
      Said his father; `don't give yourself airs!
    Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
      Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!'


  `That is not said right,' said the Caterpillar.

  `Not QUITE right, I'm afraid,' said Alice, timidly; some of the
words have got altered.'

  `It is wrong from beginning to end,' said the Caterpillar
decidedly, and there was silence for some minutes.

  The Caterpillar was the first to speak.

  `What size do you want to be?' it asked.

  `Oh, I'm not particular as to size,' Alice hastily replied;
`only one doesn't like changing so often, you know.'

  `I DON'T know,' said the Caterpillar.

  Alice said nothing:  she had never been so much contradicted in
her life before, and she felt that she was losing her temper.

  `Are you content now?' said the Caterpillar.

  `Well, I should like to be a LITTLE larger, sir, if you
wouldn't mind,' said Alice:  `three inches is such a wretched
height to be.'

  `It is a very good height indeed!' said the Caterpillar
angrily, rearing itself upright as it spoke (it was exactly three
inches high).

  `But I'm not used to it!' pleaded poor Alice in a piteous tone.
And she thought of herself, `I wish the creatures wouldn't be so
easily offended!'

  `You'll get used to it in time,' said the Caterpillar; and it
put the hookah into its mouth and began smoking again.

  This time Alice waited patiently until it chose to speak again.
In a minute or two the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its
mouth and yawned once or twice, and shook itself.  Then it got
down off the mushroom, and crawled away in the grass, merely
remarking as it went, `One side will make you grow taller, and
the other side will make you grow shorter.'

  `One side of WHAT?  The other side of WHAT?' thought Alice to
herself.

  `Of the mushroom,' said the Caterpillar, just as if she had
asked it aloud; and in another moment it was out of sight.

  Alice remained looking thoughtfully at the mushroom for a
minute, trying to make out which were the two sides of it; and as
it was perfectly round, she found this a very difficult question.
However, at last she stretched her arms round it as far as they
would go, and broke off a bit of the edge with each hand.

  `And now which is which?' she said to herself, and nibbled a
little of the right-hand bit to try the effect:  the next moment
she felt a violent blow underneath her chin:  it had struck her
foot!

  She was a good deal frightened by this very sudden change, but
she felt that there was no time to be lost, as she was shrinking
rapidly; so she set to work at once to eat some of the other bit.
Her chin was pressed so closely against her foot, that there was
hardly room to open her mouth; but she did it at last, and
managed to swallow a morsel of the lefthand bit.


     *       *       *       *       *       *       *

         *       *       *       *       *       *

     *       *       *       *       *       *       *

  `Come, my head's free at last!' said Alice in a tone of
delight, which changed into alarm in another moment, when she
found that her shoulders were nowhere to be found:  all she could
see, when she looked down, was an immense length of neck, which
seemed to rise like a stalk out of a sea of green leaves that lay
far below her.

  `What CAN all that green stuff be?' said Alice.  `And where
HAVE my shoulders got to?  And oh, my poor hands, how is it I
can't see you?'  She was moving them about as she spoke, but no
result seemed to follow, except a little shaking among the
distant green leaves.

  As there seemed to be no chance of getting her hands up to her
head, she tried to get her head down to them, and was delighted
to find that her neck would bend about easily in any direction,
like a serpent.  She had just succeeded in curving it down into a
graceful zigzag, and was going to dive in among the leaves, which
she found to be nothing but the tops of the trees under which she
had been wandering, when a sharp hiss made her draw back in a
hurry:  a large pigeon had flown into her face, and was beating
her violently with its wings.

  `Serpent!' screamed the Pigeon.

  `I'm NOT a serpent!' said Alice indignantly.  `Let me alone!'

  `Serpent, I say again!' repeated the Pigeon, but in a more
subdued tone, and added with a kind of sob, `I've tried every
way, and nothing seems to suit them!'

  `I haven't the least idea what you're talking about,' said
Alice.

  `I've tried the roots of trees, and I've tried banks, and I've
tried hedges,' the Pigeon went on, without attending to her; `but
those serpents!  There's no pleasing them!'

  Alice was more and more puzzled, but she thought there was no
use in saying anything more till the Pigeon had finished.

  `As if it wasn't trouble enough hatching the eggs,' said the
Pigeon; `but I must be on the look-out for serpents night and
day!  Why, I haven't had a wink of sleep these three weeks!'

  `I'm very sorry you've been annoyed,' said Alice, who was
beginning to see its meaning.

  `And just as I'd taken the highest tree in the wood,' continued
the Pigeon, raising its voice to a shriek, `and just as I was
thinking I should be free of them at last, they must needs come
wriggling down from the sky!  Ugh, Serpent!'

  `But I'm NOT a serpent, I tell you!' said Alice.  `I'm a--I'm
a--'

  `Well!  WHAT are you?' said the Pigeon.  `I can see you're
trying to invent something!'

  `I--I'm a little girl,' said Alice, rather doubtfully, as she
remembered the number of changes she had gone through that day.

  `A likely story indeed!' said the Pigeon in a tone of the
deepest contempt.  `I've seen a good many little girls in my
time, but never ONE with such a neck as that!  No, no!  You're a
serpent; and there's no use denying it.  I suppose you'll be
telling me next that you never tasted an egg!'

  `I HAVE tasted eggs, certainly,' said Alice, who was a very
truthful child; `but little girls eat eggs quite as much as
serpents do, you know.'

  `I don't believe it,' said the Pigeon; `but if they do, why
then they're a kind of serpent, that's all I can say.'

  This was such a new idea to Alice, that she was quite silent
for a minute or two, which gave the Pigeon the opportunity of
adding, `You're looking for eggs, I know THAT well enough; and
what does it matter to me whether you're a little girl or a
serpent?'

  `It matters a good deal to ME,' said Alice hastily; `but I'm
not looking for eggs, as it happens; and if I was, I shouldn't
want YOURS:  I don't like them raw.'

  `Well, be off, then!' said the Pigeon in a sulky tone, as it
settled down again into its nest.  Alice crouched down among the
trees as well as she could, for her neck kept getting entangled
among the branches, and every now and then she had to stop and
untwist it.  After a while she remembered that she still held the
pieces of mushroom in her hands, and she set to work very
carefully, nibbling first at one and then at the other, and
growing sometimes taller and sometimes shorter, until she had
succeeded in bringing herself down to her usual height.

  It was so long since she had been anything near the right size,
that it felt quite strange at first; but she got used to it in a
few minutes, and began talking to herself, as usual.  `Come,
there's half my plan done now!  How puzzling all these changes
are!  I'm never sure what I'm going to be, from one minute to
another!  However, I've got back to my right size:  the next
thing is, to get into that beautiful garden--how IS that to be
done, I wonder?'  As she said this, she came suddenly upon an
open place, with a little house in it about four feet high.
`Whoever lives there,' thought Alice, `it'll never do to come
upon them THIS size:  why, I should frighten them out of their
wits!'  So she began nibbling at the righthand bit again, and did
not venture to go near the house till she had brought herself
down to nine inches high.



CHAPTER VI    Pig and Pepper




  For a minute or two she stood looking at the house, and
wondering what to do next, when suddenly a footman in livery came
running out of the wood--(she considered him to be a footman
because he was in livery:  otherwise, judging by his face only,
she would have called him a fish)--and rapped loudly at the door
with his knuckles.  It was opened by another footman in livery,
with a round face, and large eyes like a frog; and both footmen,
Alice noticed, had powdered hair that curled all over their
heads.  She felt very curious to know what it was all about, and
crept a little way out of the wood to listen.

  The Fish-Footman began by producing from under his arm a great
letter, nearly as large as himself, and this he handed over to
the other, saying, in a solemn tone, `For the Duchess.  An
invitation from the Queen to play croquet.'  The Frog-Footman
repeated, in the same solemn tone, only changing the order of the
words a little, `From the Queen.  An invitation for the Duchess
to play croquet.'

  Then they both bowed low, and their curls got entangled
together.

  Alice laughed so much at this, that she had to run back into
the wood for fear of their hearing her; and when she next peeped
out the Fish-Footman was gone, and the other was sitting on the
ground near the door, staring stupidly up into the sky.

  Alice went timidly up to the door, and knocked.

  `There's no sort of use in knocking,' said the Footman, `and
that for two reasons.  First, because I'm on the same side of the
door as you are; secondly, because they're making such a noise
inside, no one could possibly hear you.'  And certainly there was
a most extraordinary noise going on within--a constant howling
and sneezing, and every now and then a great crash, as if a dish
or kettle had been broken to pieces.

  `Please, then,' said Alice, `how am I to get in?'

  `There might be some sense in your knocking,' the Footman went
on without attending to her, `if we had the door between us.  For
instance, if you were INSIDE, you might knock, and I could let
you out, you know.'  He was looking up into the sky all the time
he was speaking, and this Alice thought decidedly uncivil.  `But
perhaps he can't help it,' she said to herself; `his eyes are so
VERY nearly at the top of his head.  But at any rate he might
answer questions.--How am I to get in?' she repeated, aloud.

  `I shall sit here,' the Footman remarked, `till tomorrow--'

  At this moment the door of the house opened, and a large plate
came skimming out, straight at the Footman's head:  it just
grazed his nose, and broke to pieces against one of the trees
behind him.

  `--or next day, maybe,' the Footman continued in the same tone,
exactly as if nothing had happened.

  `How am I to get in?' asked Alice again, in a louder tone.

  `ARE you to get in at all?' said the Footman.  `That's the
first question, you know.'

  It was, no doubt:  only Alice did not like to be told so.
`It's really dreadful,' she muttered to herself, `the way all the
creatures argue.  It's enough to drive one crazy!'

  The Footman seemed to think this a good opportunity for
repeating his remark, with variations.  `I shall sit here,' he
said, `on and off, for days and days.'

  `But what am I to do?' said Alice.

  `Anything you like' said the Footman, and began whistling.

  `Oh, there's no use in talking to him,' said Alice desperately:
`he's perfectly idiotic!'  And she opened the door and went in.

  The door led right into a large kitchen, which was full of
smoke from one end to the other:  the Duchess was sitting on a
three-legged stool in the middle, nursing a baby; the cook was
leaning over the fire, stirring a large cauldron which seemed to
be full of soup.

  `There's certainly too much pepper in that soup!' Alice said to
herself, as well as she could for sneezing.

  There was certainly too much of it in the air.  Even the
Duchess sneezed occasionally; and as for the baby, it was
sneezing and howling alternately without a moment's pause.  The
only things in the kitchen that did not sneeze, were the cook,
and a large cat which was sitting on the hearth and grinning from
ear to ear.

  `Please would you tell me,' said Alice, a little timidly, for
she was not quite sure whether it was good manners for her to
speak first, `why your cat grins like that?'

  `It's a Cheshire cat,' said the Duchess, `and that's why.
Pig!'

  She said the last word with such sudden violence that Alice
quite jumped; but she saw in another moment that it was addressed
to the baby, and not to her, so she took courage, and went on
again:--

  I didn't know that Cheshire cats always grinned; in fact, I
didn't know that cats COULD grin.'

  `They all can,' said the Duchess; `and most of 'em do.'

  `I don't know of any that do,' Alice said very politely,
feeling quite pleased to have got into a conversation.

  `You don't know much,' said the Duchess; `and that's a fact.'

  Alice did not at all like the tone of this remark, and thought
it would be as well to introduce some other subject of
conversation.  While she was trying to fix on one, the cook took
the cauldron of soup off the fire, and at once set to work
throwing everything within her reach at the Duchess and the baby-
-the fire-irons came first; then followed a shower of saucepans,
plates, and dishes.  The Duchess took no notice of them even when
they hit her; and the baby was howling so much already, that it
was quite impossible to say whether the blows hurt it or not.

  `Oh, PLEASE mind what you're doing!' cried Alice, jumping up
and down in an agony of terror.  `Oh, there goes his PRECIOUS
nose'; as an unusually large saucepan flew close by it, and very
nearly carried it off.

  `If everybody minded their own business,' the Duchess said in a
hoarse growl, `the world would go round a deal faster than it
does.'

  `Which would NOT be an advantage,' said Alice, who felt very
glad to get an opportunity of showing off a little of her
knowledge.  `Just think of what work it would make with the day
and night!  You see the earth takes twenty-four hours to turn
round on its axis--'

  `Talking of axes,' said the Duchess, `chop off her head!'

  Alice glanced rather anxiously at the cook, to see if she meant
to take the hint; but the cook was busily stirring the soup, and
seemed not to be listening, so she went on again:  `Twenty-four
hours, I THINK; or is it twelve?  I--'

  `Oh, don't bother ME,' said the Duchess; `I never could abide
figures!'  And with that she began nursing her child again,
singing a sort of lullaby to it as she did so, and giving it a
violent shake at the end of every line:

        `Speak roughly to your little boy,
          And beat him when he sneezes:
        He only does it to annoy,
          Because he knows it teases.'

                    CHORUS.

    (In which the cook and the baby joined):--

                `Wow! wow! wow!'

  While the Duchess sang the second verse of the song, she kept
tossing the baby violently up and down, and the poor little thing
howled so, that Alice could hardly hear the words:--

        `I speak severely to my boy,
          I beat him when he sneezes;
        For he can thoroughly enjoy
          The pepper when he pleases!'

                    CHORUS.

                `Wow! wow! wow!'

  `Here! you may nurse it a bit, if you like!' the Duchess said
to Alice, flinging the baby at her as she spoke.  `I must go and
get ready to play croquet with the Queen,' and she hurried out of
the room.  The cook threw a frying-pan after her as she went out,
but it just missed her.

  Alice caught the baby with some difficulty, as it was a queer-
shaped little creature, and held out its arms and legs in all
directions, `just like a star-fish,' thought Alice.  The poor
little thing was snorting like a steam-engine when she caught it,
and kept doubling itself up and straightening itself out again,
so that altogether, for the first minute or two, it was as much
as she could do to hold it.

  As soon as she had made out the proper way of nursing it,
(which was to twist it up into a sort of knot, and then keep
tight hold of its right ear and left foot, so as to prevent its
undoing itself,) she carried it out into the open air.  `IF I
don't take this child away with me,' thought Alice, `they're sure
to kill it in a day or two:  wouldn't it be murder to leave it
behind?'  She said the last words out loud, and the little thing
grunted in reply (it had left off sneezing by this time).  `Don't
grunt,' said Alice; `that's not at all a proper way of expressing
yourself.'

  The baby grunted again, and Alice looked very anxiously into
its face to see what was the matter with it.  There could be no
doubt that it had a VERY turn-up nose, much more like a snout
than a real nose; also its eyes were getting extremely small for
a baby:  altogether Alice did not like the look of the thing at
all.  `But perhaps it was only sobbing,' she thought, and looked
into its eyes again, to see if there were any tears.

  No, there were no tears.  `If you're going to turn into a pig,
my dear,' said Alice, seriously, `I'll have nothing more to do
with you.  Mind now!'  The poor little thing sobbed again (or
grunted, it was impossible to say which), and they went on for
some while in silence.

  Alice was just beginning to think to herself, `Now, what am I
to do with this creature when I get it home?' when it grunted
again, so violently, that she looked down into its face in some
alarm.  This time there could be NO mistake about it:  it was
neither more nor less than a pig, and she felt that it would be
quite absurd for her to carry it further.

  So she set the little creature down, and felt quite relieved to
see it trot away quietly into the wood.  `If it had grown up,'
she said to herself, `it would have made a dreadfully ugly child:
but it makes rather a handsome pig, I think.'  And she began
thinking over other children she knew, who might do very well as
pigs, and was just saying to herself, `if one only knew the right
way to change them--' when she was a little startled by seeing
the Cheshire Cat sitting on a bough of a tree a few yards off.

  The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice.  It looked good-
natured, she thought:  still it had VERY long claws and a great
many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect.

  `Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did not at
all know whether it would like the name:  however, it only
grinned a little wider.  `Come, it's pleased so far,' thought
Alice, and she went on.  `Would you tell me, please, which way I
ought to go from here?'

  `That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said
the Cat.

  `I don't much care where--' said Alice.

  `Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat.

  `--so long as I get SOMEWHERE,' Alice added as an explanation.

  `Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, `if you only walk
long enough.'

  Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another
question.  `What sort of people live about here?'

  `In THAT direction,' the Cat said, waving its right paw round,
`lives a Hatter:  and in THAT direction,' waving the other paw,
`lives a March Hare.  Visit either you like:  they're both mad.'

  `But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.

  `Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat:  `we're all mad here.
I'm mad.  You're mad.'

  `How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice.

  `You must be,' said the Cat, `or you wouldn't have come here.'

  Alice didn't think that proved it at all; however, she went on
`And how do you know that you're mad?'

  `To begin with,' said the Cat, `a dog's not mad.  You grant
that?'

  `I suppose so,' said Alice.

  `Well, then,' the Cat went on, `you see, a dog growls when it's
angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased.  Now I growl when I'm
pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry.  Therefore I'm mad.'

  `I call it purring, not growling,' said Alice.

  `Call it what you like,' said the Cat.  `Do you play croquet
with the Queen to-day?'

  `I should like it very much,' said Alice, `but I haven't been
invited yet.'

  `You'll see me there,' said the Cat, and vanished.

  Alice was not much surprised at this, she was getting so used
to queer things happening.  While she was looking at the place
where it had been, it suddenly appeared again.

  `By-the-bye, what became of the baby?' said the Cat.  `I'd
nearly forgotten to ask.'

  `It turned into a pig,' Alice quietly said, just as if it had
come back in a natural way.

  `I thought it would,' said the Cat, and vanished again.

  Alice waited a little, half expecting to see it again, but it
did not appear, and after a minute or two she walked on in the
direction in which the March Hare was said to live.  `I've seen
hatters before,' she said to herself; `the March Hare will be
much the most interesting, and perhaps as this is May it won't be
raving mad--at least not so mad as it was in March.'  As she said
this, she looked up, and there was the Cat again, sitting on a
branch of a tree.

  `Did you say pig, or fig?' said the Cat.

  `I said pig,' replied Alice; `and I wish you wouldn't keep
appearing and vanishing so suddenly:  you make on quite giddy.'

  `All right,' said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite
slowly, beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the
grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone.

  `Well!  I've often seen a cat without a grin,' thought Alice;
`but a grin without a cat!  It's the most curious thing I ever
say in my life!'

  She had not gone much farther before she came in sight of the
house of the March Hare:  she thought it must be the right house,
because the chimneys were shaped like ears and the roof was
thatched with fur.  It was so large a house, that she did not
like to go nearer till she had nibbled some more of the lefthand
bit of mushroom, and raised herself to about two feet high:  even
then she walked up towards it rather timidly, saying to herself
`Suppose it should be raving mad after all!  I almost wish I'd
gone to see the Hatter instead!'



CHAPTER VII   A Mad Tea-Party




  There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house,
and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it:  a
Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two
were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and the
talking over its head.  `Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse,'
thought Alice; `only, as it's asleep, I suppose it doesn't mind.'

  The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded
together at one corner of it:  `No room!  No room!' they cried
out when they saw Alice coming.  `There's PLENTY of room!' said
Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one
end of the table.

  `Have some wine,' the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.

  Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it
but tea.  `I don't see any wine,' she remarked.

  `There isn't any,' said the March Hare.

  `Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it,' said Alice
angrily.

  `It wasn't very civil of you to sit down without being
invited,' said the March Hare.

  `I didn't know it was YOUR table,' said Alice; `it's laid for a
great many more than three.'

  `Your hair wants cutting,' said the Hatter.  He had been
looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was
his first speech.

  `You should learn not to make personal remarks,' Alice said
with some severity; `it's very rude.'

  The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all
he SAID was, `Why is a raven like a writing-desk?'

  `Come, we shall have some fun now!' thought Alice.  `I'm glad
they've begun asking riddles.--I believe I can guess that,' she
added aloud.

  `Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?'
said the March Hare.

  `Exactly so,' said Alice.

  `Then you should say what you mean,' the March Hare went on.

  `I do,' Alice hastily replied; `at least--at least I mean what
I say--that's the same thing, you know.'

  `Not the same thing a bit!' said the Hatter.  `You might just
as well say that "I see what I eat" is the same thing as "I eat
what I see"!'

  `You might just as well say,' added the March Hare, `that "I
like what I get" is the same thing as "I get what I like"!'

  `You might just as well say,' added the Dormouse, who seemed to
be talking in his sleep, `that "I breathe when I sleep" is the
same thing as "I sleep when I breathe"!'

  `It IS the same thing with you,' said the Hatter, and here the
conversation dropped, and the party sat silent for a minute,
while Alice thought over all she could remember about ravens and
writing-desks, which wasn't much.

  The Hatter was the first to break the silence.  `What day of
the month is it?' he said, turning to Alice:  he had taken his
watch out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking
it every now and then, and holding it to his ear.

  Alice considered a little, and then said `The fourth.'

  `Two days wrong!' sighed the Hatter.  `I told you butter
wouldn't suit the works!' he added looking angrily at the March
Hare.

  `It was the BEST butter,' the March Hare meekly replied.

  `Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,' the Hatter
grumbled:  `you shouldn't have put it in with the bread-knife.'

  The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily:  then
he dipped it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again:  but he
could think of nothing better to say than his first remark, `It
was the BEST butter, you know.'

  Alice had been looking over his shoulder with some curiosity.
`What a funny watch!' she remarked.  `It tells the day of the
month, and doesn't tell what o'clock it is!'

  `Why should it?' muttered the Hatter.  `Does YOUR watch tell
you what year it is?'

  `Of course not,' Alice replied very readily:  `but that's
because it stays the same year for such a long time together.'

  `Which is just the case with MINE,' said the Hatter.

  Alice felt dreadfully puzzled.  The Hatter's remark seemed to
have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English.
`I don't quite understand you,' she said, as politely as she
could.

  `The Dormouse is asleep again,' said the Hatter, and he poured
a little hot tea upon its nose.

  The Dormouse shook its head impatiently, and said, without
opening its eyes, `Of course, of course; just what I was going to
remark myself.'

  `Have you guessed the riddle yet?' the Hatter said, turning to
Alice again.

  `No, I give it up,' Alice replied:  `that's the answer?'

  `I haven't the slightest idea,' said the Hatter.

  `Nor I,' said the March Hare.

  Alice sighed wearily.  `I think you might do something better
with the time,' she said, `than waste it in asking riddles that
have no answers.'

  `If you knew Time as well as I do,' said the Hatter, `you
wouldn't talk about wasting IT.  It's HIM.'

  `I don't know what you mean,' said Alice.

  `Of course you don't!' the Hatter said, tossing his head
contemptuously.  `I dare say you never even spoke to Time!'

  `Perhaps not,' Alice cautiously replied:  `but I know I have to
beat time when I learn music.'

  `Ah! that accounts for it,' said the Hatter.  `He won't stand
beating.  Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he'd do
almost anything you liked with the clock.  For instance, suppose
it were nine o'clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons:
you'd only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the
clock in a twinkling!  Half-past one, time for dinner!'

  (`I only wish it was,' the March Hare said to itself in a
whisper.)

  `That would be grand, certainly,' said Alice thoughtfully:
`but then--I shouldn't be hungry for it, you know.'

  `Not at first, perhaps,' said the Hatter:  `but you could keep
it to half-past one as long as you liked.'

  `Is that the way YOU manage?' Alice asked.

  The Hatter shook his head mournfully.  `Not I!' he replied.
`We quarrelled last March--just before HE went mad, you know--'
(pointing with his tea spoon at the March Hare,) `--it was at the
great concert given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing

            "Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!
            How I wonder what you're at!"

You know the song, perhaps?'

  `I've heard something like it,' said Alice.

  `It goes on, you know,' the Hatter continued, `in this way:--

            "Up above the world you fly,
            Like a tea-tray in the sky.
                    Twinkle, twinkle--"'

Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep
`Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle--' and went on so long that
they had to pinch it to make it stop.

  `Well, I'd hardly finished the first verse,' said the Hatter,
`when the Queen jumped up and bawled out, "He's murdering the
time!  Off with his head!"'

  `How dreadfully savage!' exclaimed Alice.

  `And ever since that,' the Hatter went on in a mournful tone,
`he won't do a thing I ask!  It's always six o'clock now.'

  A bright idea came into Alice's head.  `Is that the reason so
many tea-things are put out here?' she asked.

  `Yes, that's it,' said the Hatter with a sigh:  `it's always
tea-time, and we've no time to wash the things between whiles.'

  `Then you keep moving round, I suppose?' said Alice.

  `Exactly so,' said the Hatter:  `as the things get used up.'

  `But what happens when you come to the beginning again?' Alice
ventured to ask.

  `Suppose we change the subject,' the March Hare interrupted,
yawning.  `I'm getting tired of this.  I vote the young lady
tells us a story.'

  `I'm afraid I don't know one,' said Alice, rather alarmed at
the proposal.

  `Then the Dormouse shall!' they both cried.  `Wake up,
Dormouse!'  And they pinched it on both sides at once.

  The Dormouse slowly opened his eyes.  `I wasn't asleep,' he
said in a hoarse, feeble voice:  `I heard every word you fellows
were saying.'

  `Tell us a story!' said the March Hare.

  `Yes, please do!' pleaded Alice.

  `And be quick about it,' added the Hatter, `or you'll be asleep
again before it's done.'

  `Once upon a time there were three little sisters,' the
Dormouse began in a great hurry; `and their names were Elsie,
Lacie, and Tillie; and they lived at the bottom of a well--'

  `What did they live on?' said Alice, who always took a great
interest in questions of eating and drinking.

  `They lived on treacle,' said the Dormouse, after thinking a
minute or two.

  `They couldn't have done that, you know,' Alice gently
remarked; `they'd have been ill.'

  `So they were,' said the Dormouse; `VERY ill.'

  Alice tried to fancy to herself what such an extraordinary ways
of living would be like, but it puzzled her too much, so she went
on:  `But why did they live at the bottom of a well?'

  `Take some more tea,' the March Hare said to Alice, very
earnestly.

  `I've had nothing yet,' Alice replied in an offended tone, `so
I can't take more.'

  `You mean you can't take LESS,' said the Hatter:  `it's very
easy to take MORE than nothing.'

  `Nobody asked YOUR opinion,' said Alice.

  `Who's making personal remarks now?' the Hatter asked
triumphantly.

  Alice did not quite know what to say to this:  so she helped
herself to some tea and bread-and-butter, and then turned to the
Dormouse, and repeated her question.  `Why did they live at the
bottom of a well?'

  The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and
then said, `It was a treacle-well.'

  `There's no such thing!'  Alice was beginning very angrily, but
the Hatter and the March Hare went `Sh! sh!' and the Dormouse
sulkily remarked, `If you can't be civil, you'd better finish the
story for yourself.'

  `No, please go on!' Alice said very humbly; `I won't interrupt
again.  I dare say there may be ONE.'

  `One, indeed!' said the Dormouse indignantly.  However, he
consented to go on.  `And so these three little sisters--they
were learning to draw, you know--'

  `What did they draw?' said Alice, quite forgetting her promise.

  `Treacle,' said the Dormouse, without considering at all this
time.

  `I want a clean cup,' interrupted the Hatter:  `let's all move
one place on.'

  He moved on as he spoke, and the Dormouse followed him:  the
March Hare moved into the Dormouse's place, and Alice rather
unwillingly took the place of the March Hare.  The Hatter was the
only one who got any advantage from the change:  and Alice was a
good deal worse off than before, as the March Hare had just upset
the milk-jug into his plate.

  Alice did not wish to offend the Dormouse again, so she began
very cautiously:  `But I don't understand.  Where did they draw
the treacle from?'

  `You can draw water out of a water-well,' said the Hatter; `so
I should think you could draw treacle out of a treacle-well--eh,
stupid?'

  `But they were IN the well,' Alice said to the Dormouse, not
choosing to notice this last remark.

  `Of course they were', said the Dormouse; `--well in.'

  This answer so confused poor Alice, that she let the Dormouse
go on for some time without interrupting it.

  `They were learning to draw,' the Dormouse went on, yawning and
rubbing its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy; `and they drew
all manner of things--everything that begins with an M--'

  `Why with an M?' said Alice.

  `Why not?' said the March Hare.

  Alice was silent.

  The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going
off into a doze; but, on being pinched by the Hatter, it woke up
again with a little shriek, and went on:  `--that begins with an
M, such as mouse-traps, and the moon, and memory, and muchness--
you know you say things are "much of a muchness"--did you ever
see such a thing as a drawing of a muchness?'

  `Really, now you ask me,' said Alice, very much confused, `I
don't think--'

  `Then you shouldn't talk,' said the Hatter.

  This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear:  she got
up in great disgust, and walked off; the Dormouse fell asleep
instantly, and neither of the others took the least notice of her
going, though she looked back once or twice, half hoping that
they would call after her:  the last time she saw them, they were
trying to put the Dormouse into the teapot.

  `At any rate I'll never go THERE again!' said Alice as she
picked her way through the wood.  `It's the stupidest tea-party I
ever was at in all my life!'

  Just as she said this, she noticed that one of the trees had a
door leading right into it.  `That's very curious!' she thought.
`But everything's curious today.  I think I may as well go in at
once.'  And in she went.

  Once more she found herself in the long hall, and close to the
little glass table.  `Now, I'll manage better this time,' she
said to herself, and began by taking the little golden key, and
unlocking the door that led into the garden.  Then she wet to
work nibbling at the mushroom (she had kept a piece of it in her
pocked) till she was about a foot high:  then she walked down the
little passage:  and THEN--she found herself at last in the
beautiful garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool
fountains.



CHAPTER VIII  The Queen's Croquet-Ground




  A large rose-tree stood near the entrance of the garden:  the
roses growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at
it, busily painting them red.  Alice thought this a very curious
thing, and she went nearer to watch them, and just as she came up
to them she heard one of them say, `Look out now, Five!  Don't go
splashing paint over me like that!'

  `I couldn't help it,' said Five, in a sulky tone; `Seven jogged
my elbow.'

  On which Seven looked up and said, `That's right, Five!  Always
lay the blame on others!'

  `YOU'D better not talk!'said Five.  `I heard the Queen say only
yesterday you deserved to be beheaded!'

  `What for?' said the one who had spoken first.

  `That's none of YOUR business, Two!' said Seven.

  `Yes, it IS his business!' said Five, `and I'll tell him--it
was for bringing the cook tulip-roots instead of onions.'

  Seven flung down his brush, and had just begun `Well, of all
the unjust things--' when his eye chanced to fall upon Alice, as
she stood watching them, and he checked himself suddenly:  the
others looked round also, and all of them bowed low.

  `Would you tell me,' said Alice, a little timidly, `why you are
painting those roses?'

  Five and Seven said nothing, but looked at Two.  Two began in a
low voice, `Why the fact is, you see, Miss, this here ought to
have been a RED rose-tree, and we put a white one in by mistake;
and if the Queen was to find it out, we should all have our heads
cut off, you know.  So you see, Miss, we're doing our best, afore
she comes, to--'  At this moment Five, who had been anxiously
looking across the garden, called out `The Queen!  The Queen!'
and the three gardeners instantly threw themselves flat upon
their faces.  There was a sound of many footsteps, and Alice
looked round, eager to see the Queen.

  First came ten soldiers carrying clubs; these were all shaped
like the three gardeners, oblong and flat, with their hands and
feet at the corners:  next the ten courtiers; these were
ornamented all over with diamonds, and walked two and two, as the
soldiers did.  After these came the royal children; there were
ten of them, and the little dears came jumping merrily along hand
in hand, in couples:  they were all ornamented with hearts.  Next
came the guests, mostly Kings and Queens, and among them Alice
recognised the White Rabbit:  it was talking in a hurried nervous
manner, smiling at everything that was said, and went by without
noticing her.  Then followed the Knave of Hearts, carrying the
King's crown on a crimson velvet cushion; and, last of all this
grand procession, came THE KING AND QUEEN OF HEARTS.

  Alice was rather doubtful whether she ought not to lie down on
her face like the three gardeners, but she could not remember
every having heard of such a rule at processions; `and besides,
what would be the use of a procession,' thought she, `if people
had all to lie down upon their faces, so that they couldn't see
it?'  So she stood still where she was, and waited.

  When the procession came opposite to Alice, they all stopped
and looked at her, and the Queen said severely `Who is this?'
She said it to the Knave of Hearts, who only bowed and smiled in
reply.

  `Idiot!' said the Queen, tossing her head impatiently; and,
turning to Alice, she went on, `What's your name, child?'

  `My name is Alice, so please your Majesty,' said Alice very
politely; but she added, to herself, `Why, they're only a pack of
cards, after all.  I needn't be afraid of them!'

  `And who are THESE?' said the Queen, pointing to the three
gardeners who were lying round the rosetree; for, you see, as
they were lying on their faces, and the pattern on their backs
was the same as the rest of the pack, she could not tell whether
they were gardeners, or soldiers, or courtiers, or three of her
own children.

  `How should I know?' said Alice, surprised at her own courage.
`It's no business of MINE.'

  The Queen turned crimson with fury, and, after glaring at her
for a moment like a wild beast, screamed `Off with her head!
Off--'

  `Nonsense!' said Alice, very loudly and decidedly, and the
Queen was silent.

  The King laid his hand upon her arm, and timidly said
`Consider, my dear:  she is only a child!'

  The Queen turned angrily away from him, and said to the Knave
`Turn them over!'

  The Knave did so, very carefully, with one foot.

  `Get up!' said the Queen, in a shrill, loud voice, and the
three gardeners instantly jumped up, and began bowing to the
King, the Queen, the royal children, and everybody else.

  `Leave off that!' screamed the Queen.  `You make me giddy.'
And then, turning to the rose-tree, she went on, `What HAVE you
been doing here?'

  `May it please your Majesty,' said Two, in a very humble tone,
going down on one knee as he spoke, `we were trying--'

  `I see!' said the Queen, who had meanwhile been examining the
roses.  `Off with their heads!' and the procession moved on,
three of the soldiers remaining behind to execute the unfortunate
gardeners, who ran to Alice for protection.

  `You shan't be beheaded!' said Alice, and she put them into a
large flower-pot that stood near.  The three soldiers wandered
about for a minute or two, looking for them, and then quietly
marched off after the others.

  `Are their heads off?' shouted the Queen.

  `Their heads are gone, if it please your Majesty!' the soldiers
shouted in reply.

  `That's right!' shouted the Queen.  `Can you play croquet?'

  The soldiers were silent, and looked at Alice, as the question
was evidently meant for her.

  `Yes!' shouted Alice.

  `Come on, then!' roared the Queen, and Alice joined the
procession, wondering very much what would happen next.

  `It's--it's a very fine day!' said a timid voice at her side.
She was walking by the White Rabbit, who was peeping anxiously
into her face.

  `Very,' said Alice:  `--where's the Duchess?'

  `Hush!  Hush!' said the Rabbit in a low, hurried tone.  He
looked anxiously over his shoulder as he spoke, and then raised
himself upon tiptoe, put his mouth close to her ear, and
whispered `She's under sentence of execution.'

  `What for?' said Alice.

  `Did you say "What a pity!"?' the Rabbit asked.

  `No, I didn't,' said Alice:  `I don't think it's at all a pity.
I said "What for?"'

  `She boxed the Queen's ears--' the Rabbit began.  Alice gave a
little scream of laughter.  `Oh, hush!' the Rabbit whispered in a
frightened tone.  `The Queen will hear you!  You see, she came
rather late, and the Queen said--'

  `Get to your places!' shouted the Queen in a voice of thunder,
and people began running about in all directions, tumbling up
against each other; however, they got settled down in a minute or
two, and the game began.  Alice thought she had never seen such a
curious croquet-ground in her life; it was all ridges and
furrows; the balls were live hedgehogs, the mallets live
flamingoes, and the soldiers had to double themselves up and to
stand on their hands and feet, to make the arches.

  The chief difficulty Alice found at first was in managing her
flamingo:  she succeeded in getting its body tucked away,
comfortably enough, under her arm, with its legs hanging down,
but generally, just as she had got its neck nicely straightened
out, and was going to give the hedgehog a blow with its head, it
WOULD twist itself round and look up in her face, with such a
puzzled expression that she could not help bursting out laughing:
and when she had got its head down, and was going to begin again,
it was very provoking to find that the hedgehog had unrolled
itself, and was in the act of crawling away:  besides all this,
there was generally a ridge or furrow in the way wherever she
wanted to send the hedgehog to, and, as the doubled-up soldiers
were always getting up and walking off to other parts of the
ground, Alice soon came to the conclusion that it was a very
difficult game indeed.

  The players all played at once without waiting for turns,
quarrelling all the while, and fighting for the hedgehogs; and in
a very short time the Queen was in a furious passion, and went
stamping about, and shouting `Off with his head!' or `Off with
her head!' about once in a minute.

  Alice began to feel very uneasy:  to be sure, she had not as
yet had any dispute with the Queen, but she knew that it might
happen any minute, `and then,' thought she, `what would become of
me?  They're dreadfully fond of beheading people here; the great
wonder is, that there's any one left alive!'

  She was looking about for some way of escape, and wondering
whether she could get away without being seen, when she noticed a
curious appearance in the air:  it puzzled her very much at
first, but, after watching it a minute or two, she made it out to
be a grin, and she said to herself `It's the Cheshire Cat:  now I
shall have somebody to talk to.'

  `How are you getting on?' said the Cat, as soon as there was
mouth enough for it to speak with.

  Alice waited till the eyes appeared, and then nodded.  `It's no
use speaking to it,' she thought, `till its ears have come, or at
least one of them.'  In another minute the whole head appeared,
and then Alice put down her flamingo, and began an account of the
game, feeling very glad she had someone to listen to her.  The
Cat seemed to think that there was enough of it now in sight, and
no more of it appeared.

  `I don't think they play at all fairly,' Alice began, in rather
a complaining tone,' and they all quarrel so dreadfully one can't
hear oneself speak--and they don't seem to have any rules in
particular; at least, if there are, nobody attends to them--and
you've no idea how confusing it is all the things being alive;
for instance, there's the arch I've got to go through next
walking about at the other end of the ground--and I should have
croqueted the Queen's hedgehog just now, only it ran away when it
saw mine coming?'

  `How do you like the Queen?' said the Cat in a low voice.

  `Not at all,' said Alice:  `she's so extremely--'  Just then
she noticed that the Queen was close behind her, listening:  so
she went on, `--likely to win, that it's hardly worth while
finishing the game.'

  The Queen smiled and passed on.

  `Who ARE you talking to?' said the King, going up to Alice, and
looking at the Cat's head with great curiosity.

  `It's a friend of mine--a Cheshire Cat,' said Alice:  `allow me
to introduce it.'

  `I don't like the look of it at all,' said the King:  `however,
it may kiss my hand if it likes.'

  `I'd rather not,' the Cat remarked.

  `Don't be impertinent,' said the King, `and don't look at me
like that!'  He got behind Alice as he spoke.

  `A cat may look at a king,' said Alice.  `I've read that in
some book, but I don't remember where.'

  `Well, it must be removed,' said the King very decidedly, and
he called the Queen, who was passing at the moment, `My dear!  I
wish you would have this cat removed!'

  The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great
or small.  `Off with his head!' she said, without even looking
round.

  `I'll fetch the executioner myself,' said the King eagerly, and
he hurried off.

  Alice thought she might as well go back, and see how the game
was going on, as she heard the Queen's voice in the distance,
screaming with passion.  She had already heard her sentence three
of the players to be executed for having missed their turns, and
she did not like the look of things at all, as the game was in
such confusion that she never knew whether it was her turn or
not.  So she went in search of her hedgehog.

  The hedgehog was engaged in a fight with another hedgehog,
which seemed to Alice an excellent opportunity for croqueting one
of them with the other:  the only difficulty was, that her
flamingo was gone across to the other side of the garden, where
Alice could see it trying in a helpless sort of way to fly up
into a tree.

  By the time she had caught the flamingo and brought it back,
the fight was over, and both the hedgehogs were out of sight:
`but it doesn't matter much,' thought Alice, `as all the arches
are gone from the side of the ground.'  So she tucked it away
under her arm, that it might not escape again, and went back for
a little more conversation with her friend.

  When she got back to the Cheshire Cat, she was surprised to
find quite a large crowd collected round it:  there was a dispute
going on between the executioner, the King, and the Queen, who
were all talking at once, while all the rest were quite silent,
and looked very uncomfortable.

  The moment Alice appeared, she was appealed to by all three to
settle the question, and they repeated their arguments to her,
though, as they all spoke at once, she found it very hard indeed
to make out exactly what they said.

  The executioner's argument was, that you couldn't cut off a
head unless there was a body to cut it off from:  that he had
never had to do such a thing before, and he wasn't going to begin
at HIS time of life.

  The King's argument was, that anything that had a head could be
beheaded, and that you weren't to talk nonsense.

  The Queen's argument was, that if something wasn't done about
it in less than no time she'd have everybody executed, all round.
(It was this last remark that had made the whole party look so
grave and anxious.)

  Alice could think of nothing else to say but `It belongs to the
Duchess:  you'd better ask HER about it.'

  `She's in prison,' the Queen said to the executioner:  `fetch
her here.'  And the executioner went off like an arrow.

  The Cat's head began fading away the moment he was gone, and,
by the time he had disappeared; so the King and the executioner
ran wildly up and down looking for it, while the rest of the
party went back to the game.



CHAPTER IX    The Mock Turtle's Story




  `You can't think you glad I am to see you again, you dear old
thing!' said the Duchess, as she tucked her arm affectionately
into Alice's, and they walked off together.

  Alice was very glad to find her in such a pleasant temper, and
thought to herself that perhaps it was only the pepper that had
made her so savage when they met in the kitchen.

  `When I'M a Duchess,' she said to herself, (not in a very
hopeful tone though), `I won't have any pepper in my kitchen AT
ALL.  Soup does very well without--Maybe it's always pepper that
makes people hot-tempered,' she went on, very much pleased at
having found out a new kind of rule, `and vinegar that makes them
sour--and camomile that makes them bitter--and--and barley-sugar
and such things that make children sweet-tempered.  I only wish
people knew that:  then they wouldn't be so stingy about it, you
know--'

  She had quite forgotten the Duchess by this time, and was a
little startled when she heard her voice close to her ear.
`You're thinking about something, my dear, and that makes you
forget to talk.  I can't tell you just now what the moral of that
is, but I shall remember it in a bit.'

  `Perhaps it hasn't one,' Alice ventured to remark.

  `Tut, tut, child!' said the Duchess.  `Everything's got a
moral, if only you can find it.'  And she squeezed herself up
closer to Alice's side as she spoke.

  Alice did not much like keeping so close to her:  first,
because the Duchess was VERY ugly; and secondly, because she was
exactly the right height to rest her chin upon Alice's shoulder,
and it was an uncomfortably sharp chin.  However, she did not
like to be rude, so she bore it as well as she could.

  `The game's going on rather better now,' she said, by way of
keeping up the conversation a little.

  `'Tis so,' said the Duchess:  `and the moral of that is--"Oh,
'tis love, 'tis love, that makes the world go round!"'

  `Somebody said,' Alice whispered, `that it's done by everybody
minding their own business!'

  `Ah, well!  It means much the same thing,' said the Duchess,
digging her sharp little chin into Alice's shoulder as she added,
`and the moral of THAT is--"Take care of the sense, and the
sounds will take care of themselves."'

  `How fond she is of finding morals in things!' Alice thought to
herself.

  `I dare say you're wondering why I don't put my arm round your
waist,' the Duchess said after a pause:  `the reason is, that I'm
doubtful about the temper of your flamingo.  Shall I try the
experiment?'

  `HE might bite,' Alice cautiously replied, not feeling at all
anxious to have the experiment tried.

  `Very true,' said the Duchess:  `flamingoes and mustard both
bite.  And the moral of that is--"Birds of a feather flock
together."'

  `Only mustard isn't a bird,' Alice remarked.

  `Right, as usual,' said the Duchess:  `what a clear way you
have of putting things!'

  `It's a mineral, I THINK,' said Alice.

  `Of course it is,' said the Duchess, who seemed ready to agree
to everything that Alice said; `there's a large mustard-mine near
here.  And the moral of that is--"The more there is of mine, the
less there is of yours."'

  `Oh, I know!' exclaimed Alice, who had not attended to this
last remark, `it's a vegetable.  It doesn't look like one, but it
is.'

  `I quite agree with you,' said the Duchess; `and the moral of
that is--"Be what you would seem to be"--or if you'd like it put
more simply--"Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than
what it might appear to others that what you were or might have
been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared
to them to be otherwise."'

  `I think I should understand that better,' Alice said very
politely, `if I had it written down:  but I can't quite follow it
as you say it.'

  `That's nothing to what I could say if I chose,' the Duchess
replied, in a pleased tone.

  `Pray don't trouble yourself to say it any longer than that,'
said Alice.

  `Oh, don't talk about trouble!' said the Duchess.  `I make you
a present of everything I've said as yet.'

  `A cheap sort of present!' thought Alice.  `I'm glad they don't
give birthday presents like that!'  But she did not venture to
say it out loud.

  `Thinking again?' the Duchess asked, with another dig of her
sharp little chin.

  `I've a right to think' said Alice sharply, for she was
beginning to feel a little worried.

  `Just about as much right,' said the Duchess, `as pigs have to
fly; and the m--'

  But here, to Alice's great surprise, the Duchess's voice died
away, even in the middle of her favourite word `moral,' and the
arm that was linked into hers began to tremble.  Alice looked up,
and there stood the Queen in front of them, with her arms folded,
frowning like a thunderstorm.

  `A fine day, your Majesty!' the Duchess began in a low, weak
voice.

  `Now, I give you fair warning,' shouted the Queen, stamping on
the ground as she spoke; `either you or your head must be off,
and that in about half no time!  Take your choice!'

  The Duchess took her choice, and was gone in a moment.

  `Let's go on with the game,' the Queen said to Alice; and Alice
was too much frightened to say a word, but slowly followed her
back to the croquet-ground.

  The other guests had taken advantage of the Queen's absence,
and were resting in the shade:  however, the moment they saw her,
they hurried back to the game, the Queen merely remarking that a
moment's delay would cost them their lives.

  All the time they were playing the Queen never left off
quarrelling with the other players, and shouting `Off with his
head!' or `Off with her head!'  Those whom she sentenced were
taken into custody by the soldiers, who of course had to leave
off being arches to do this, so that by the end of half an hour
or so there were no arches left, and all the players, except the
King, the Queen, and Alice, were in custody and under sentence of
execution.

  Then the Queen left off, quite out of breath, and said to
Alice, `Have you seen the Mock Turtle yet?'

  `No,' said Alice.  `I don't even know what a Mock Turtle is.'

  `It's the thing Mock Turtle Soup is made from,' said the Queen.

  `I never saw one, or heard of one,' said Alice.

  `Come on, then,' said the Queen, `and he shall tell you his
history,'

  As they walked off together, Alice heard the King say in a low
voice, to the company generally, `You are all pardoned.'  `Come,
THAT'S a good thing!' she said to herself, for she had felt quite
unhappy at the number of executions the Queen had ordered.

  They very soon came upon a Gryphon, lying fast asleep in the
sun.  (IF you don't know what a Gryphon is, look at the picture.)
`Up, lazy thing!' said the Queen, `and take this young lady to
see the Mock Turtle, and to hear his history.  I must go back and
see after some executions I have ordered'; and she walked off,
leaving Alice alone with the Gryphon.  Alice did not quite like
the look of the creature, but on the whole she thought it would
be quite as safe to stay with it as to go after that savage
Queen:  so she waited.

  The Gryphon sat up and rubbed its eyes:  then it watched the
Queen till she was out of sight:  then it chuckled.  `What fun!'
said the Gryphon, half to itself, half to Alice.

  `What IS the fun?' said Alice.

  `Why, SHE,' said the Gryphon.  `It's all her fancy, that:  they
never executes nobody, you know.  Come on!'

  `Everybody says "come on!" here,' thought Alice, as she went
slowly after it:  `I never was so ordered about in all my life,
never!'

  They had not gone far before they saw the Mock Turtle in the
distance, sitting sad and lonely on a little ledge of rock, and,
as they came nearer, Alice could hear him sighing as if his heart
would break.  She pitied him deeply.  `What is his sorrow?' she
asked the Gryphon, and the Gryphon answered, very nearly in the
same words as before, `It's all his fancy, that:  he hasn't got
no sorrow, you know.  Come on!'

  So they went up to the Mock Turtle, who looked at them with
large eyes full of tears, but said nothing.

  `This here young lady,' said the Gryphon, `she wants for to
know your history, she do.'

  `I'll tell it her,' said the Mock Turtle in a deep, hollow
tone:  `sit down, both of you, and don't speak a word till I've
finished.'

  So they sat down, and nobody spoke for some minutes.  Alice
thought to herself, `I don't see how he can EVEN finish, if he
doesn't begin.'  But she waited patiently.

  `Once,' said the Mock Turtle at last, with a deep sigh, `I was
a real Turtle.'

  These words were followed by a very long silence, broken only
by an occasional exclamation of `Hjckrrh!' from the Gryphon, and
the constant heavy sobbing of the Mock Turtle.  Alice was very
nearly getting up and saying, `Thank you, sir, for your
interesting story,' but she could not help thinking there MUST be
more to come, so she sat still and said nothing.

  `When we were little,' the Mock Turtle went on at last, more
calmly, though still sobbing a little now and then, `we went to
school in the sea.  The master was an old Turtle--we used to call
him Tortoise--'

  `Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn't one?' Alice asked.

  `We called him Tortoise because he taught us,' said the Mock
Turtle angrily:  `really you are very dull!'

  `You ought to be ashamed of yourself for asking such a simple
question,' added the Gryphon; and then they both sat silent and
looked at poor Alice, who felt ready to sink into the earth.  At
last the Gryphon said to the Mock Turtle, `Drive on, old fellow!
Don't be all day about it!' and he went on in these words:

  `Yes, we went to school in the sea, though you mayn't believe
it--'

  `I never said I didn't!' interrupted Alice.

  `You did,' said the Mock Turtle.

  `Hold your tongue!' added the Gryphon, before Alice could speak
again.  The Mock Turtle went on.

  `We had the best of educations--in fact, we went to school
every day--'

  `I'VE been to a day-school, too,' said Alice; `you needn't be
so proud as all that.'

  `With extras?' asked the Mock Turtle a little anxiously.

  `Yes,' said Alice, `we learned French and music.'

  `And washing?' said the Mock Turtle.

  `Certainly not!' said Alice indignantly.

  `Ah! then yours wasn't a really good school,' said the Mock
Turtle in a tone of great relief.  `Now at OURS they had at the
end of the bill, "French, music, AND WASHING--extra."'

  `You couldn't have wanted it much,' said Alice; `living at the
bottom of the sea.'

  `I couldn't afford to learn it.' said the Mock Turtle with a
sigh.  `I only took the regular course.'

  `What was that?' inquired Alice.

  `Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,' the Mock
Turtle replied; `and then the different branches of Arithmetic--
Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.'

  `I never heard of "Uglification," Alice ventured to say.  `What
is it?'

  The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise.  `What!  Never
heard of uglifying!' it exclaimed.  `You know what to beautify
is, I suppose?'

  `Yes,' said Alice doubtfully:  `it means--to--make--anything--
prettier.'

  `Well, then,' the Gryphon went on, `if you don't know what to
uglify is, you ARE a simpleton.'

  Alice did not feel encouraged to ask any more questions about
it, so she turned to the Mock Turtle, and said `What else had you
to learn?'

  `Well, there was Mystery,' the Mock Turtle replied, counting
off the subjects on his flappers, `--Mystery, ancient and modern,
with Seaography:  then Drawling--the Drawling-master was an old
conger-eel, that used to come once a week:  HE taught us
Drawling, Stretching, and Fainting in Coils.'

  `What was THAT like?' said Alice.

  `Well, I can't show it you myself,' the Mock Turtle said:  `I'm
too stiff.  And the Gryphon never learnt it.'

  `Hadn't time,' said the Gryphon:  `I went to the Classics
master, though.  He was an old crab, HE was.'

  `I never went to him,' the Mock Turtle said with a sigh:  `he
taught Laughing and Grief, they used to say.'

  `So he did, so he did,' said the Gryphon, sighing in his turn;
and both creatures hid their faces in their paws.

  `And how many hours a day did you do lessons?' said Alice, in a
hurry to change the subject.

  `Ten hours the first day,' said the Mock Turtle: `nine the
next, and so on.'

  `What a curious plan!' exclaimed Alice.

  `That's the reason they're called lessons,' the Gryphon
remarked:  `because they lessen from day to day.'

  This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought it over a
little before she made her next remark.  `Then the eleventh day
must have been a holiday?'

  `Of course it was,' said the Mock Turtle.

  `And how did you manage on the twelfth?' Alice went on eagerly.

  `That's enough about lessons,' the Gryphon interrupted in a
very decided tone:  `tell her something about the games now.'



CHAPTER X     The Lobster Quadrille




  The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and drew the back of one flapper
across his eyes.  He looked at Alice, and tried to speak, but for
a minute or two sobs choked his voice.  `Same as if he had a bone
in his throat,' said the Gryphon:  and it set to work shaking him
and punching him in the back.  At last the Mock Turtle recovered
his voice, and, with tears running down his cheeks, he went on
again:--

  `You may not have lived much under the sea--' (I haven't,' said
Alice)--`and perhaps you were never even introduced to a lobster-
-'  (Alice began to say `I once tasted--' but checked herself
hastily, and said `No, never') `--so you can have no idea what a
delightful thing a Lobster Quadrille is!'

  `No, indeed,' said Alice.  `What sort of a dance is it?'

  `Why,' said the Gryphon, `you first form into a line along the
sea-shore--'

  `Two lines!' cried the Mock Turtle.  `Seals, turtles, salmon,
and so on; then, when you've cleared all the jelly-fish out of
the way--'

  `THAT generally takes some time,' interrupted the Gryphon.

  `--you advance twice--'

  `Each with a lobster as a partner!' cried the Gryphon.

  `Of course,' the Mock Turtle said:  `advance twice, set to
partners--'

  `--change lobsters, and retire in same order,' continued the
Gryphon.

  `Then, you know,' the Mock Turtle went on, `you throw the--'

  `The lobsters!' shouted the Gryphon, with a bound into the air.

  `--as far out to sea as you can--'

  `Swim after them!' screamed the Gryphon.

  `Back to land again, and that's all the first figure,' said the
Mock Turtle, suddenly dropping his voice; and the two creatures,
who had been jumping about like mad things all this time, sat
down again very sadly and quietly, and looked at Alice.

  `It must be a very pretty dance,' said Alice timidly.

  `Would you like to see a little of it?' said the Mock Turtle.

  `Very much indeed,' said Alice.

  `Come, let's try the first figure!' said the Mock Turtle to the
Gryphon.  `We can do without lobsters, you know.  Which shall
sing?'

  `Oh, YOU sing,' said the Gryphon.  `I've forgotten the words.'

  So they began solemnly dancing round and round Alice, every now
and then treading on her toes when they passed too close, and
waving their forepaws to mark the time, while the Mock Turtle
sang this, very slowly and sadly:--


`"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail.
"There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my
 tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle--will you come and join the
dance?

Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the
dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the
dance?


"You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to
                                                      sea!"
But the snail replied "Too far, too far!" and gave a look
                                                       askance--
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the
   dance.
    Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join
        the dance.
    Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join
        the dance.

`"What matters it how far we go?" his scaly friend replied.
"There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The further off from England the nearer is to France--
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.

    Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the
         dance?
    Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the
         dance?"'



  `Thank you, it's a very interesting dance to watch,' said
Alice, feeling very glad that it was over at last:  `and I do so
like that curious song about the whiting!'

  `Oh, as to the whiting,' said the Mock Turtle, `they--you've
seen them, of course?'

  `Yes,' said Alice, `I've often seen them at dinn--' she
checked herself hastily.

  `I don't know where Dinn may be,' said the Mock Turtle, `but
if you've seen them so often, of course you know what they're
like.'

  `I believe so,' Alice replied thoughtfully.  `They have their
tails in their mouths--and they're all over crumbs.'

  `You're wrong about the crumbs,' said the Mock Turtle:
`crumbs would all wash off in the sea.  But they HAVE their tails
in their mouths; and the reason is--' here the Mock Turtle
yawned and shut his eyes.--`Tell her about the reason and all
that,' he said to the Gryphon.

  `The reason is,' said the Gryphon, `that they WOULD go with
the lobsters to the dance.  So they got thrown out to sea.  So
they had to fall a long way.  So they got their tails fast in
their mouths.  So they couldn't get them out again.  That's all.'

  `Thank you,' said Alice, `it's very interesting.  I never knew
so much about a whiting before.'

  `I can tell you more than that, if you like,' said the
Gryphon.  `Do you know why it's called a whiting?'

  `I never thought about it,' said Alice.  `Why?'

  `IT DOES THE BOOTS AND SHOES.' the Gryphon replied very
solemnly.

  Alice was thoroughly puzzled.  `Does the boots and shoes!' she
repeated in a wondering tone.

  `Why, what are YOUR shoes done with?' said the Gryphon.  `I
mean, what makes them so shiny?'

  Alice looked down at them, and considered a little before she
gave her answer.  `They're done with blacking, I believe.'

  `Boots and shoes under the sea,' the Gryphon went on in a deep
voice, `are done with a whiting.  Now you know.'

  `And what are they made of?' Alice asked in a tone of great
curiosity.

  `Soles and eels, of course,' the Gryphon replied rather
impatiently:  `any shrimp could have told you that.'

  `If I'd been the whiting,' said Alice, whose thoughts were
still running on the song, `I'd have said to the porpoise, "Keep
back, please:  we don't want YOU with us!"'

  `They were obliged to have him with them,' the Mock Turtle
said:  `no wise fish would go anywhere without a porpoise.'

  `Wouldn't it really?' said Alice in a tone of great surprise.

  `Of course not,' said the Mock Turtle:  `why, if a fish came
to ME, and told me he was going a journey, I should say "With
what porpoise?"'

  `Don't you mean "purpose"?' said Alice.

  `I mean what I say,' the Mock Turtle replied in an offended
tone.  And the Gryphon added `Come, let's hear some of YOUR
adventures.'

  `I could tell you my adventures--beginning from this morning,'
said Alice a little timidly:  `but it's no use going back to
yesterday, because I was a different person then.'

  `Explain all that,' said the Mock Turtle.

  `No, no!  The adventures first,' said the Gryphon in an
impatient tone:  `explanations take such a dreadful time.'

  So Alice began telling them her adventures from the time when
she first saw the White Rabbit.  She was a little nervous about
it just at first, the two creatures got so close to her, one on
each side, and opened their eyes and mouths so VERY wide, but she
gained courage as she went on.  Her listeners were perfectly
quiet till she got to the part about her repeating `YOU ARE OLD,
FATHER WILLIAM,' to the Caterpillar, and the words all coming
different, and then the Mock Turtle drew a long breath, and said
`That's very curious.'

  `It's all about as curious as it can be,' said the Gryphon.

  `It all came different!' the Mock Turtle repeated
thoughtfully.  `I should like to hear her try and repeat
something now.  Tell her to begin.'  He looked at the Gryphon as
if he thought it had some kind of authority over Alice.

  `Stand up and repeat "'TIS THE VOICE OF THE SLUGGARD,"' said
the Gryphon.

  `How the creatures order one about, and make one repeat
lessons!' thought Alice; `I might as well be at school at once.'
However, she got up, and began to repeat it, but her head was so
full of the Lobster Quadrille, that she hardly knew what she was
saying, and the words came very queer indeed:--

    "'Tis the voice of the Lobster; I heard him declare,
    "You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair."
    As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose
    Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.'

              [later editions continued as follows
    When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
    And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark,
    But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,
    His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.]

  `That's different from what I used to say when I was a child,'
said the Gryphon.

  `Well, I never heard it before,' said the Mock Turtle; `but it
sounds uncommon nonsense.'

  Alice said nothing; she had sat down with her face in her
hands, wondering if anything would EVER happen in a natural way
again.

  `I should like to have it explained,' said the Mock Turtle.

  `She can't explain it,' said the Gryphon hastily.  `Go on with
the next verse.'

  `But about his toes?' the Mock Turtle persisted.  `How COULD
he turn them out with his nose, you know?'

  `It's the first position in dancing.' Alice said; but was
dreadfully puzzled by the whole thing, and longed to change the
subject.

  `Go on with the next verse,' the Gryphon repeated impatiently:
`it begins "I passed by his garden."'

  Alice did not dare to disobey, though she felt sure it would
all come wrong, and she went on in a trembling voice:--

    `I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye,
    How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie--'

        [later editions continued as follows
    The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat,
    While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat.
    When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon,
    Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon:
    While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl,
    And concluded the banquet--]

  `What IS the use of repeating all that stuff,' the Mock Turtle
interrupted, `if you don't explain it as you go on?  It's by far
the most confusing thing I ever heard!'

  `Yes, I think you'd better leave off,' said the Gryphon:  and
Alice was only too glad to do so.

  `Shall we try another figure of the Lobster Quadrille?' the
Gryphon went on.  `Or would you like the Mock Turtle to sing you
a song?'

  `Oh, a song, please, if the Mock Turtle would be so kind,'
Alice replied, so eagerly that the Gryphon said, in a rather
offended toe, `Hm! No accounting for tastes!  Sing her "Turtle
Soup," will you, old fellow?'

  The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and began, in a voice sometimes
choked with sobs, to sing this:--


    `Beautiful Soup, so rich and green,
    Waiting in a hot tureen!
    Who for such dainties would not stoop?
    Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
    Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
        Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
        Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
    Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
        Beautiful, beautiful Soup!

    `Beautiful Soup!  Who cares for fish,
    Game, or any other dish?
    Who would not give all else for two p
    ennyworth only of beautiful Soup?
    Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?
        Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
        Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
    Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
        Beautiful, beauti--FUL SOUP!'

  `Chorus again!' cried the Gryphon, and the Mock Turtle had
just begun to repeat it, when a cry of `The trial's beginning!'
was heard in the distance.

  `Come on!' cried the Gryphon, and, taking Alice by the hand,
it hurried off, without waiting for the end of the song.

  `What trial is it?' Alice panted as she ran; but the Gryphon
only answered `Come on!' and ran the faster, while more and more
faintly came, carried on the breeze that followed them, the
melancholy words:--

    `Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
        Beautiful, beautiful Soup!'



CHAPTER XI    Who Stole the Tarts?




  The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when
they arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them--all sorts
of little birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards:
the Knave was standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on
each side to guard him; and near the King was the White Rabbit,
with a trumpet in one hand, and a scroll of parchment in the
other.  In the very middle of the court was a table, with a large
dish of tarts upon it:  they looked so good, that it made Alice
quite hungry to look at them--`I wish they'd get the trial done,'
she thought, `and hand round the refreshments!'  But there seemed
to be no chance of this, so she began looking at everything about
her, to pass away the time.

  Alice had never been in a court of justice before, but she had
read about them in books, and she was quite pleased to find that
she knew the name of nearly everything there.  `That's the
judge,' she said to herself, `because of his great wig.'

  The judge, by the way, was the King; and as he wore his crown
over the wig, (look at the frontispiece if you want to see how he
did it,) he did not look at all comfortable, and it was certainly
not becoming.

  `And that's the jury-box,' thought Alice, `and those twelve
creatures,' (she was obliged to say `creatures,' you see, because
some of them were animals, and some were birds,) `I suppose they
are the jurors.'  She said this last word two or three times over
to herself, being rather proud of it:  for she thought, and
rightly too, that very few little girls of her age knew the
meaning of it at all.  However, `jury-men' would have done just
as well.

  The twelve jurors were all writing very busily on slates.
`What are they doing?'  Alice whispered to the Gryphon.  `They
can't have anything to put down yet, before the trial's begun.'

  `They're putting down their names,' the Gryphon whispered in
reply, `for fear they should forget them before the end of the
trial.'

  `Stupid things!' Alice began in a loud, indignant voice, but
she stopped hastily, for the White Rabbit cried out, `Silence in
the court!' and the King put on his spectacles and looked
anxiously round, to make out who was talking.

  Alice could see, as well as if she were looking over their
shoulders, that all the jurors were writing down `stupid things!'
on their slates, and she could even make out that one of them
didn't know how to spell `stupid,' and that he had to ask his
neighbour to tell him.  `A nice muddle their slates'll be in
before the trial's over!' thought Alice.

  One of the jurors had a pencil that squeaked.  This of course,
Alice could not stand, and she went round the court and got
behind him, and very soon found an opportunity of taking it
away.  She did it so quickly that the poor little juror (it was
Bill, the Lizard) could not make out at all what had become of
it; so, after hunting all about for it, he was obliged to write
with one finger for the rest of the day; and this was of very
little use, as it left no mark on the slate.

  `Herald, read the accusation!' said the King.

  On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and
then unrolled the parchment scroll, and read as follows:--

    `The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts,
          All on a summer day:
      The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts,
          And took them quite away!'

  `Consider your verdict,' the King said to the jury.

  `Not yet, not yet!' the Rabbit hastily interrupted.  `There's
a great deal to come before that!'

  `Call the first witness,' said the King; and the White Rabbit
blew three blasts on the trumpet, and called out, `First
witness!'

  The first witness was the Hatter.  He came in with a teacup in
one hand and a piece of bread-and-butter in the other.  `I beg
pardon, your Majesty,' he began, `for bringing these in:  but I
hadn't quite finished my tea when I was sent for.'

  `You ought to have finished,' said the King.  `When did you
begin?'

  The Hatter looked at the March Hare, who had followed him into
the court, arm-in-arm with the Dormouse.  `Fourteenth of March, I
think it was,' he said.

  `Fifteenth,' said the March Hare.

  `Sixteenth,' added the Dormouse.

  `Write that down,' the King said to the jury, and the jury
eagerly wrote down all three dates on their slates, and then
added them up, and reduced the answer to shillings and pence.

  `Take off your hat,' the King said to the Hatter.

  `It isn't mine,' said the Hatter.

  `Stolen!' the King exclaimed, turning to the jury, who
instantly made a memorandum of the fact.

  `I keep them to sell,' the Hatter added as an explanation;
`I've none of my own.  I'm a hatter.'

  Here the Queen put on her spectacles, and began staring at the
Hatter, who turned pale and fidgeted.

  `Give your evidence,' said the King; `and don't be nervous, or
I'll have you executed on the spot.'

  This did not seem to encourage the witness at all:  he kept
shifting form one foot to the other, looking uneasily at the
Queen, and in his confusion he bit a large piece out of his
teacup instead of the bread-and-butter.

  Just at this moment Alice felt a very curious sensation, which
puzzled her a good deal until she made out what it was:  she was
beginning to grow larger again, and she thought at first she
would get up and leave the court; but on second thoughts she
decided to remain where she was as long as there was room for
her.

  `I wish you wouldn't squeeze so.' said the Dormouse, who was
sitting next to her.  `I can hardly breathe.'

  `I can't help it,' said Alice very meekly:  `I'm growing.'

  `You've no right to grow here,' said the Dormouse.

  `Don't talk nonsense,' said Alice more boldly:  `you know
you're growing too.'

  `Yes, but I grow at a reasonable pace,' said the Dormouse:
`not in that ridiculous fashion.'  And he got up very sulkily
and crossed over to the other side of the court.

  All this time the Queen had never left off staring at the
Hatter, and, just as the Dormouse crossed the court, she said to
one of the officers of the court, `Bring me the list of the
singers in the last concert!' on which the wretched Hatter
trembled so, that he shook both his shoes off.

  `Give your evidence,' the King repeated angrily, `or I'll have
you executed, whether you're nervous or not.'

  `I'm a poor man, your Majesty,' the Hatter began, in a
trembling voice, `--and I hadn't begun my tea--not above a week
or so--and what with the bread-and-butter getting so thin--and
the twinkling of the tea--'

  `The twinkling of the what?' said the King.

  `It began with the tea,' the Hatter replied.

  `Of course twinkling begins with a T!' said the King sharply.
`Do you take me for a dunce?  Go on!'

  `I'm a poor man,' the Hatter went on, `and most things
twinkled after that--only the March Hare said--'

  `I didn't!' said the Hatter.

  `I deny it!' said the King:  `leave out that part.'

  `Well, at any rate, the Dormouse said--' the Hatter went on,
looking anxiously round to see if he would deny it too:  but the
Dormouse denied nothing, being fast asleep.

  `After that,' continued the Hatter, `I cut some more bread-
and-butter--'

  `But what did the Dormouse say?' one of the jury asked.

  `That I can't remember,' said the Hatter.

  `You MUST remember,' remarked the King, `or I'll have you
executed.'

  The miserable Hatter dropped his teacup and bread-and-butter,
and went down on one knee.  `I'm a poor man, your Majesty,' he
began.

  `You're a very poor speaker,' said the King.

  Here one of the guinea-pigs cheered, and was immediately
suppressed by the officers of the court.  (As that is rather a
hard word, I will just explain to you how it was done.  They had
a large canvas bag, which tied up at the mouth with strings:
into this they slipped the guinea-pig, head first, and then sat
upon it.)

  `I'm glad I've seen that done,' thought Alice.  `I've so often
read in the newspapers, at the end of trials, "There was some
attempts at applause, which was immediately suppressed by the
officers of the court," and I never understood what it meant
till now.'

  `If that's all you know about it, you may stand down,'
continued the King.

  `I can't go no lower,' said the Hatter:  `I'm on the floor, as
it is.'

  `Then you may SIT down,' the King replied.

  Here the other guinea-pig cheered, and was suppressed.

  `Come, that finished the guinea-pigs!' thought Alice.  `Now we
shall get on better.'

  `I'd rather finish my tea,' said the Hatter, with an anxious
look at the Queen, who was reading the list of singers.

  `You may go,' said the King, and the Hatter hurriedly left the
court, without even waiting to put his shoes on.

  `--and just take his head off outside,' the Queen added to one
of the officers:  but the Hatter was out of sight before the
officer could get to the door.

  `Call the next witness!' said the King.

  The next witness was the Duchess's cook.  She carried the
pepper-box in her hand, and Alice guessed who it was, even before
she got into the court, by the way the people near the door began
sneezing all at once.

  `Give your evidence,' said the King.

  `Shan't,' said the cook.

  The King looked anxiously at the White Rabbit, who said in a
low voice, `Your Majesty must cross-examine THIS witness.'

  `Well, if I must, I must,' the King said, with a melancholy
air, and, after folding his arms and frowning at the cook till
his eyes were nearly out of sight, he said in a deep voice, `What
are tarts made of?'

  `Pepper, mostly,' said the cook.

  `Treacle,' said a sleepy voice behind her.

  `Collar that Dormouse,' the Queen shrieked out.  `Behead that
Dormouse!  Turn that Dormouse out of court!  Suppress him!  Pinch
him!  Off with his whiskers!'

  For some minutes the whole court was in confusion, getting the
Dormouse turned out, and, by the time they had settled down
again, the cook had disappeared.

  `Never mind!' said the King, with an air of great relief.
`Call the next witness.'  And he added in an undertone to the
Queen, `Really, my dear, YOU must cross-examine the next witness.
It quite makes my forehead ache!'

  Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over the list,
feeling very curious to see what the next witness would be like,
`--for they haven't got much evidence YET,' she said to herself.
Imagine her surprise, when the White Rabbit read out, at the top
of his shrill little voice, the name `Alice!'



CHAPTER XII   Alice's Evidence




  `Here!' cried Alice, quite forgetting in the flurry of the
moment how large she had grown in the last few minutes, and she
jumped up in such a hurry that she tipped over the jury-box with
the edge of her skirt, upsetting all the jurymen on to the heads
of the crowd below, and there they lay sprawling about, reminding
her very much of a globe of goldfish she had accidentally upset
the week before.

  `Oh, I BEG your pardon!' she exclaimed in a tone of great
dismay, and began picking them up again as quickly as she could,
for the accident of the goldfish kept running in her head, and
she had a vague sort of idea that they must be collected at once
and put back into the jury-box, or they would die.

  `The trial cannot proceed,' said the King in a very grave
voice, `until all the jurymen are back in their proper places--
ALL,' he repeated with great emphasis, looking hard at Alice as
he said do.

  Alice looked at the jury-box, and saw that, in her haste, she
had put the Lizard in head downwards, and the poor little thing
was waving its tail about in a melancholy way, being quite unable
to move.  She soon got it out again, and put it right; `not that
it signifies much,' she said to herself; `I should think it
would be QUITE as much use in the trial one way up as the other.'

  As soon as the jury had a little recovered from the shock of
being upset, and their slates and pencils had been found and
handed back to them, they set to work very diligently to write
out a history of the accident, all except the Lizard, who seemed
too much overcome to do anything but sit with its mouth open,
gazing up into the roof of the court.

  `What do you know about this business?' the King said to
Alice.

  `Nothing,' said Alice.

  `Nothing WHATEVER?' persisted the King.

  `Nothing whatever,' said Alice.

  `That's very important,' the King said, turning to the jury.
They were just beginning to write this down on their slates, when
the White Rabbit interrupted:  `UNimportant, your Majesty means,
of course,' he said in a very respectful tone, but frowning and
making faces at him as he spoke.

  `UNimportant, of course, I meant,' the King hastily said, and
went on to himself in an undertone, `important--unimportant--
unimportant--important--' as if he were trying which word
sounded best.

  Some of the jury wrote it down `important,' and some
`unimportant.'  Alice could see this, as she was near enough to
look over their slates; `but it doesn't matter a bit,' she
thought to herself.

  At this moment the King, who had been for some time busily
writing in his note-book, cackled out `Silence!' and read out
from his book, `Rule Forty-two.  ALL PERSONS MORE THAN A MILE
HIGH TO LEAVE THE COURT.'

  Everybody looked at Alice.

  `I'M not a mile high,' said Alice.

  `You are,' said the King.

  `Nearly two miles high,' added the Queen.

  `Well, I shan't go, at any rate,' said Alice:  `besides,
that's not a regular rule:  you invented it just now.'

  `It's the oldest rule in the book,' said the King.

  `Then it ought to be Number One,' said Alice.

  The King turned pale, and shut his note-book hastily.
`Consider your verdict,' he said to the jury, in a low, trembling
voice.

  `There's more evidence to come yet, please your Majesty,' said
the White Rabbit, jumping up in a great hurry; `this paper has
just been picked up.'

  `What's in it?' said the Queen.

  `I haven't opened it yet, said the White Rabbit, `but it seems
to be a letter, written by the prisoner to--to somebody.'

  `It must have been that,' said the King, `unless it was
written to nobody, which isn't usual, you know.'

  `Who is it directed to?' said one of the jurymen.

  `It isn't directed at all,' said the White Rabbit; `in fact,
there's nothing written on the OUTSIDE.'  He unfolded the paper
as he spoke, and added `It isn't a letter, after all:  it's a set
of verses.'

  `Are they in the prisoner's handwriting?' asked another of
they jurymen.

  `No, they're not,' said the White Rabbit, `and that's the
queerest thing about it.'  (The jury all looked puzzled.)

  `He must have imitated somebody else's hand,' said the King.
(The jury all brightened up again.)

  `Please your Majesty,' said the Knave, `I didn't write it, and
they can't prove I did:  there's no name signed at the end.'

  `If you didn't sign it,' said the King, `that only makes the
matter worse.  You MUST have meant some mischief, or else you'd
have signed your name like an honest man.'

  There was a general clapping of hands at this:  it was the
first really clever thing the King had said that day.

  `That PROVES his guilt,' said the Queen.

  `It proves nothing of the sort!' said Alice.  `Why, you don't
even know what they're about!'

  `Read them,' said the King.

  The White Rabbit put on his spectacles.  `Where shall I begin,
please your Majesty?' he asked.

  `Begin at the beginning,' the King said gravely, `and go on
till you come to the end:  then stop.'

  These were the verses the White Rabbit read:--

        `They told me you had been to her,
          And mentioned me to him:
        She gave me a good character,
          But said I could not swim.

        He sent them word I had not gone
          (We know it to be true):
        If she should push the matter on,
          What would become of you?

        I gave her one, they gave him two,
          You gave us three or more;
        They all returned from him to you,
          Though they were mine before.

        If I or she should chance to be
          Involved in this affair,
        He trusts to you to set them free,
          Exactly as we were.

        My notion was that you had been
          (Before she had this fit)
        An obstacle that came between
          Him, and ourselves, and it.

        Don't let him know she liked them best,
          For this must ever be
        A secret, kept from all the rest,
          Between yourself and me.'

  `That's the most important piece of evidence we've heard yet,'
said the King, rubbing his hands; `so now let the jury--'

  `If any one of them can explain it,' said Alice, (she had
grown so large in the last few minutes that she wasn't a bit
afraid of interrupting him,) `I'll give him sixpence.  _I_ don't
believe there's an atom of meaning in it.'

  The jury all wrote down on their slates, `SHE doesn't believe
there's an atom of meaning in it,' but none of them attempted to
explain the paper.

  `If there's no meaning in it,' said the King, `that saves a
world of trouble, you know, as we needn't try to find any.  And
yet I don't know,' he went on, spreading out the verses on his
knee, and looking at them with one eye; `I seem to see some
meaning in them, after all.  "--SAID I COULD NOT SWIM--" you
can't swim, can you?' he added, turning to the Knave.

  The Knave shook his head sadly.  `Do I look like it?' he said.
(Which he certainly did NOT, being made entirely of cardboard.)

  `All right, so far,' said the King, and he went on muttering
over the verses to himself:  `"WE KNOW IT TO BE TRUE--" that's
the jury, of course-- "I GAVE HER ONE, THEY GAVE HIM TWO--" why,
that must be what he did with the tarts, you know--'

  `But, it goes on "THEY ALL RETURNED FROM HIM TO YOU,"' said
Alice.

  `Why, there they are!' said the King triumphantly, pointing to
the tarts on the table.  `Nothing can be clearer than THAT.
Then again--"BEFORE SHE HAD THIS FIT--"  you never had fits, my
dear, I think?' he said to the Queen.

  `Never!' said the Queen furiously, throwing an inkstand at the
Lizard as she spoke.  (The unfortunate little Bill had left off
writing on his slate with one finger, as he found it made no
mark; but he now hastily began again, using the ink, that was
trickling down his face, as long as it lasted.)

  `Then the words don't FIT you,' said the King, looking round
the court with a smile.  There was a dead silence.

  `It's a pun!' the King added in an offended tone, and
everybody laughed, `Let the jury consider their verdict,' the
King said, for about the twentieth time that day.

  `No, no!' said the Queen.  `Sentence first--verdict
afterwards.'

  `Stuff and nonsense!' said Alice loudly.  `The idea of having
the sentence first!'

  `Hold your tongue!' said the Queen, turning purple.

  `I won't!' said Alice.

  `Off with her head!' the Queen shouted at the top of her
voice.  Nobody moved.

  `Who cares for you?' said Alice, (she had grown to her full
size by this time.)  `You're nothing but a pack of cards!'

  At this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came flying
down upon her:  she gave a little scream, half of fright and half
of anger, and tried to beat them off, and found herself lying on
the bank, with her head in the lap of her sister, who was gently
brushing away some dead leaves that had fluttered down from the
trees upon her face.

  `Wake up, Alice dear!' said her sister; `Why, what a long
sleep you've had!'

  `Oh, I've had such a curious dream!' said Alice, and she told
her sister, as well as she could remember them, all these strange
Adventures of hers that you have just been reading about; and
when she had finished, her sister kissed her, and said, `It WAS a
curious dream, dear, certainly:  but now run in to your tea; it's
getting late.'  So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she
ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been.

  But her sister sat still just as she left her, leaning her
head on her hand, watching the setting sun, and thinking of
little Alice and all her wonderful Adventures, till she too began
dreaming after a fashion, and this was her dream:--

  First, she dreamed of little Alice herself, and once again the
tiny hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes
were looking up into hers--she could hear the very tones of her
voice, and see that queer little toss of her head to keep back
the wandering hair that WOULD always get into her eyes--and
still as she listened, or seemed to listen, the whole place
around her became alive the strange creatures of her little
sister's dream.

  The long grass rustled at her feet as the White Rabbit hurried
by--the frightened Mouse splashed his way through the
neighbouring pool--she could hear the rattle of the teacups as
the March Hare and his friends shared their never-ending meal,
and the shrill voice of the Queen ordering off her unfortunate
guests to execution--once more the pig-baby was sneezing on the
Duchess's knee, while plates and dishes crashed around it--once
more the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard's
slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea-pigs,
filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable
Mock Turtle.

  So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in
Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and
all would change to dull reality--the grass would be only
rustling in the wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the
reeds--the rattling teacups would change to tinkling sheep-
bells, and the Queen's shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd
boy--and the sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, and
all thy other queer noises, would change (she knew) to the
confused clamour of the busy farm-yard--while the lowing of the
cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle's
heavy sobs.

  Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of
hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how
she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and
loving heart of her childhood:  and how she would gather about
her other little children, and make THEIR eyes bright and eager
with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of
Wonderland of long ago:  and how she would feel with all their
simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys,
remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.

THE END





Lewis Carroll. Through the looking glass



CHAPTER 1                        Looking-Glass house



     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.
     The way Dinah washed her children's faces was this:  first  she  held
the poor thing down by its ear with one paw, and then with the  other  paw
she rubbed its face all over, the wrong way, beginning at  the  nose:  and
just now, as I said, she was hard at work on the white kitten,  which  was
lying quite still and trying to purr - no doubt feeling that  it  was  all
meant for its good.
     But the black kitten had been finished with earlier in the afternoon,
and so, while Alice was sitting  curled  up  in  a  corner  of  the  great
arm-chair, half talking to herself and half asleep, the  kitten  had  been
having a grand game of romps with the  ball  of  worsted  Alice  had  been
trying to wind up, and had been rolling it up and down  till  it  had  all
come undone again; and there it was, spread over the hearth-rug, all knots
and tangles, with the kitten running after its own tail in the middle.
     - Oh, you wicked little thing! - cried Alice, catching up the kitten,
and giving it a little kiss to make it understand that it was in disgrace.
- Really, Dinah ought to have taught you better manners! You OUGHT, Dinah,
you know you ought! - she added, looking reproachfully at the old cat, and
speaking in as cross a voice as she could manage - and then she  scrambled
back into the arm-chair, taking the kitten and the worsted with  her,  and
began winding up the ball again. But she didn't get on very fast,  as  she
was talking all the time,  sometimes  to  the  kitten,  and  sometimes  to
herself. Kitty sat very demurely on her  knee,  pretending  to  watch  the
progress of the winding, and now and then putting out one paw  and  gently
touching the ball, as if it would be glad to help, if it might.
     - Do you know what to-morrow is, Kitty? - Alice began. -  You'd  have
guessed if you'd been up in the window with me - only Dinah was making you
tidy, so you couldn't. I was watching the boys getting in  stick  for  the
bonfire - and it wants plenty of sticks, Kitty! Only it got so  cold,  and
it snowed so, they had to leave off. Never mind, Kitty, we'll go  and  see
the bonfire to-morrow. - Here Alice  wound  two  or  three  turns  of  the
worsted round the kitten's neck, just to see how it would look:  this  led
to a scramble, in which the ball rolled down upon the floor, and yards and
yards of it got unwound again.
     - Do you know, I was so angry, Kitty, - Alice went on as soon as they
were comfortably settled again, - when I saw all the mischief you had been
doing, I was very nearly opening the window, and putting you out into  the
snow! And you'd have deserved it, you  little  mischievous  darling!  What
have you got to say for yourself? Now don't interrupt me! - she  went  on,
holding up one finger. - I'm going to tell you  all  your  faults.  Number
one: you squeaked twice while Dinah was washing your  face  this  morning.
Now you can't  deny  it,  Kitty:  I  heard  you!  What  that  you  say?  -
(pretending that the kitten was speaking.) - Her paw went into  your  eye?
Well, that's YOUR fault, for keeping your eyes open - if you'd  shut  them
tight up, it wouldn't have happened. Now don't make any more excuses,  but
listen! Number two: you pulled Snowdrop away by the tail just as I had put
down the saucer of milk before her! What, you were thirsty, were you?  How
do you know she wasn't thirsty too? Now  for  number  three:  you  unwound
every bit of the worsted while I wasn't looking!
     - That's three faults, Kitty, and you've not been punished for any of
them yet. You know I'm saving up all your punishments for Wednesday week -
Suppose they had saved up all MY punishments! - she went on, talking  more
to herself than the kitten. - What WOULD they do at the end of a  year?  I
should be sent to prison, I suppose, when the day came. Or - let me see  -
suppose each punishment was to be going without a dinner: then,  when  the
miserable day came, I should have to go without  fifty  dinners  at  once!
Well, I shouldn't mind THAT much! I'd far rather go without them than  eat
them!
     - Do you hear the snow against the window-panes, Kitty? How nice  and
soft it sounds! Just as if some  one  was  kissing  the  window  all  over
outside. I wonder if the snow LOVES the trees and fields, that  it  kisses
them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know,  with  a  white
quilt; and perhaps it says, "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer  comes
again." And when they wake up in the summer, Kitty, they dress  themselves
all in green, and dance about - whenever the wind blows - oh, that's  very
pretty! - cried Alice, dropping the ball of worsted to clap her  hands.  -
And I do so WISH it was true! I'm  sure  the  woods  look  sleepy  in  the
autumn, when the leaves are getting brown.
     - Kitty, can you play chess? Now, don't smile, my dear, I'm asking it
seriously. Because, when we were playing just now, you watched just as  if
you understood it: and when I said "Check!" you purred!  Well,  it  WAS  a
nice check, Kitty, and really I might have won, if it hadn't been for that
nasty Knight, that came wiggling down among my pieces. Kitty, dear,  let's
pretend - And here I wish I could tell you half the things Alice  used  to
say, beginning with her favourite phrase - Let's pretend. -  She  had  had
quite a long argument with her sister only the say before  -  all  because
Alice had begun with - Let's pretend we're kings and  queens;  -  and  her
sister, who liked being very exact, had argued that they couldn't, because
there were only two of them, and Alice had been reduced at last to say,  -
Well, YOU can be one of them then, and I'LL be all the rest." And once she
had really frightened her old nurse by shouting suddenly  in  her  ear,  -
Nurse! Do let's pretend that I'm a hungry hyaena, and you're a bone.
     But this is taking us away from Alice's speech to the kitten.
     - Let's pretend that you're the Red Queen,  Kitty!  Do  you  know,  I
think if you sat up and folded your arms, you'd look exactly like her. Now
do try, there's a dear! - And Alice got the Red Queen off the  table,  and
set it up before the kitten as a model for it  to  imitate:  however,  the
thing didn't succeed, principally, Alice said, because the kitten wouldn't
fold its arms  properly.  So,  to  punish  it,  she  held  it  up  to  the
Looking-glass, that it might see how sulky it was - and if you're not good
directly, - she added, - I'll put you through  into  Looking-glass  House.
How would you like THAT?
     - Now, if you'll only attend, Kitty, and not talk so much, I'll  tell
you all my ideas about Looking-glass House. First, there's  the  room  you
can see through the glass - that's just the same as our drawing room, only
the things go the other way. I can see all of it when I get upon a chair -
all but the bit behind the fireplace. Oh! I do so wish I  could  see  THAT
bit! I want so much to know whether they've a  fire  in  the  winter:  you
never CAN tell, you know, unless our fire smokes, and then smoke comes  up
in that room too - but that may be only pretence, just to make it look  as
if they had a fire. Well then, the books are  something  like  our  books,
only the words go the wrong way; I know that, because I've held up one  of
our books to the glass, and then they hold up one in the other room.
     - How would you like to live in Looking-glass House, Kitty? I  wonder
if they'd give you milk in there? Perhaps Looking-glass milk isn't good to
drink - But oh, Kitty! now we come to the passage.  You  can  just  see  a
little PEEP of the passage in Looking-glass House, if you leave  the  door
of our drawing-room wide open: and it's very like our passage  as  far  as
you can see, only you know it may be quite different on beyond. Oh, Kitty!
how nice it would be if we could only get through into Lookingglass House!
I'm sure it's got, oh! such beautiful things in it! Let's pretend  there's
a way of getting through into it, somehow, Kitty. Let's pretend the  glass
has got all soft like gauze, so that we can get through. Why, it's turning
into a sort of mist now, I declare! It'll be easy enough  to  get  through
She was up on the chimney-piece while she said  this,  though  she  hardly
knew how she had got there. And certainly the glass WAS beginning to  melt
away, just like a bright silvery mist.
     In another moment Alice was through the glass, and had jumped lightly
down into the Looking-glass room. The very first thing she did was to look
whether there was a fire in the fireplace, and she was  quite  pleased  to
find that there was a real one, blazing away as brightly as  the  one  she
had left behind. - So I shall be as warm here as I was in the old room,  -
thought Alice: - warmer, in fact, because there'll be no one here to scold
me away from the fire. Oh, what fun it'll be, when they see me through the
glass in here, and can't get at me!
     Then she began looking about, and noticed that  what  could  be  seen
from the old room was quite common and uninteresting,  but  that  all  the
rest was a different as possible. For instance, the pictures on  the  wall
next the fire  seemed  to  be  all  alive,  and  the  very  clock  on  the
chimney-piece  (you  know  you  can  only  see  the  back  of  it  in  the
Looking-glass) had got the face of a little old man, and grinned at her.
     - They don't keep this room so tidy as the other, - Alice thought  to
herself, as she noticed several of the chessmen down in the  hearth  among
the cinders: but in another moment, with a little - Oh! - of surprise, she
was down on her hands and knees watching them. The chessmen  were  walking
about, two and two!
     - Here are the Red King and  the  Red  Queen,  -  Alice  said  (in  a
whisper, for fear of frightening them), - and there are the White King and
the White Queen sitting on the edge of the  shovel  -  and  here  are  two
castles walking arm in arm - I don't think they can hear me, she went  on,
as she put her head closer down, - and I'm nearly sure they can't see  me.
I feel somehow as if I were invisible
     Here something began squeaking on the table behind  Alice,  and  made
her turn her head just in time to see one of the White Pawns roll over and
begin kicking: she watched it with  great  curiosity  to  see  what  would
happen next.
     - It is the voice of my child! - the White Queen  cried  out  as  she
rushed past the King, so violently that she knocked  him  over  among  the
cinders. -  My  precious  Lily!  My  imperial  kitten!  -  and  she  began
scrambling wildly up the side of the fender.
     - Imperial fiddlestick! - said the King, rubbing his nose, which  had
been hurt by the fall. He had a right to be  a  LITTLE  annoyed  with  the
Queen, for he was covered with ashes from head to foot.
     Alice was very anxious to be of use, and, as the poor little Lily was
nearly screaming herself into a fit, she hastily picked up the  Queen  and
set her on the table by the side of her noisy little daughter.
     The Queen gasped, and sat down: the rapid journey through the air had
quite taken away her breath and for a minute or two she could  do  nothing
but hug the little Lily in silence. As  soon  as  she  had  recovered  her
breath a little, she called out to the White King, who was sitting sulkily
among the ashes, - Mind the volcano!
     - What volcano? - said the Kind, looking up anxiously into the  fire,
as if he thought that was the most likely place to find one.
     - Blew - me - up, - panted the Queen, who was still a little  out  of
breath. - Mind you come up - the regular way - don't get blown up!
     Alice watched the White King as he slowly struggled up  from  bar  to
bar, till at last she said, - Why, you'll be hours and  hours  getting  to
the table, at that rate. I'd far better help you, hadn't I? - But the King
took no notice of the question: it was quite clear that he  could  neither
hear her nor see her.
     So Alice picked him up very gently, and lifted him across more slowly
than she had lifted the Queen, that she mightn't  take  his  breath  away:
but, before she put him on the table, she thought she might as  well  dust
him a little, he was so covered with ashes.
     She said afterwards that she had never seen in all her  life  such  a
face as the King made, when he  found  himself  held  in  the  air  by  an
invisible hand, and being dusted: he was far too much  astonished  to  cry
out, but his eyes and his mouth went on getting  larger  and  larger,  and
rounder and rounder, till her hand shook so with laughing that she  nearly
let him drop upon the floor.
     - Oh! PLEASE don't make such faces, my dear! - she cried  out,  quite
forgetting that the King couldn't hear her. - You make me laugh so that  I
can hardly hold you! And don't keep your mouth so wide open! All the ashes
will get into it - there, now I think you're tidy enough! - she added,  as
she smoothed his hair, and set him upon the table near the Queen.
     The King immediately fell flat on his back, and lay perfectly  still:
and Alice was a little alarmed at what she had done, and  went  round  the
room to see if she could find any water to throw over  him.  However,  she
could find nothing but a bottle of ink, and when she got back with it  she
found he had recovered, and he and the Queen were talking  together  in  a
frightened whisper - so low, that Alice could hardly hear what they said.
     The King was saying, - I assure, you my dear, I turned  cold  to  the
very ends of my whiskers!
     To which the Queen replied, - You haven't got  any  whiskers.  -  The
horror of that moment, - the King went on, - I shall never,
NEVER forget!
     - You will, though,  -  the  Queen  said,  -  if  you  don't  make  a
memorandum of it.
     Alice looked on with great interest as  the  King  took  an  enormous
memorandum-book out of his pocket, and began  writing.  A  sudden  thought
struck her, and she took hold of the end of the pencil,  which  came  some
way over his shoulder, and began writing for him.
     The poor King look puzzled and unhappy, and struggled with the pencil
for some time without saying anything; but Alice was too strong  for  him,
and at last he panted out, - My dear! I really MUST get a thinner  pencil.
I can't manage this one a bit; it writes all manner of things that I don't
intend
     - What manner of things? - said the Queen, looking over the book  (in
which Alice had put - THE WHITE KNIGHT  IS  SLIDING  DOWN  THE  POKER.  HE
BALANCES VERY BADLY') - That's not a memorandum of YOUR feelings!
     There was a book lying near Alice on the table,  and  while  she  sat
watching the White King (for she was still a little anxious about him, and
had the ink all ready to throw over him, in case he  fainted  again),  she
turned over the leaves, to find some part that she could read, - for  it's
all in some language I don't know, - she said to herself.
     It was like this.

           YKCOWREBBAJ

            sevot yhtils eht dna ,gillirb sawT
              ebaw eht ni elbmig dna eryg diD
                  ,sevogorob eht erew ysmim llA
                 .ebargtuo shtar emom eht dnA

     She puzzled over this for some time, but at  last  a  bright  thought
struck her. - Why, it's a Looking-glass book, of course! And if I hold  it
up to a glass, the words will all go the right way again."
     This was the poem that Alice read.

            JABBERWOCKY

             - Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
              Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
            All mimsy were the borogoves,
              And the mome raths outgrabe.

             - Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
              The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
            Beware the Jujub bird, and shun
              The frumious Bandersnatch!

            He took his vorpal sword in hand:
              Long time the manxome foe he sought
            So rested he by the Tumtum gree,
              And stood awhile in thought.

            And as in uffish thought he stood,
              The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
            Came whiffling through the tulgey wook,
              And burbled as it came!

            One, two! One, two! And through and through
              The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
            He left it dead, and with its head
              He went galumphing back.

             - And has thou slain the Jabberwock?
              Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
            O frabjous day! Calloh! Callay!
              He chortled in his joy.

             - Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
              Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
            All mimsy were the borogoves,
              And the mome raths outgrabe.

     - It seems very pretty, - she said when she had finished  it,  -  but
it's RATHER hard to understand! - (You see she  didn't  like  to  confess,
ever to herself, that she couldn't make it out at all.) - Somehow it seems
to fill my head with ideas - only I don't  exactly  know  what  they  are!
However, SOMEBODY killed SOMETHING: that's clear, at any rate
     - But oh! - thought Alice, suddenly jumping up, -  if  I  don't  make
haste I shall have to go back through the Looking-glass, before I've  seen
what the rest of the house is like! Let's have a look at the garden first!
- She was out of the room in a moment, and ran down stairs or,  at  least,
it wasn't exactly running, but a new invention of hers  for  getting  down
stairs quickly and easily, as Alice said to herself.  She  just  kept  the
tips of her fingers on the hand-rail, and floated gently down without even
touching the stairs with her feet; then she floated on through  the  hall,
and would have gone straight out at the door  in  the  same  way,  if  she
hadn't caught hold of the door-post. She was getting a little  giddy  with
so much floating in the air, and was rather glad to find  herself  walking
again in the natural way.



CHAPTER II                       The Garden of Live Flowers



     - I should see the garden far better, - said Alice to herself, - if I
could get to the top of that hill: and here's a path that  leads  straight
to it - at least, no, it doesn't do that - (after going a few yards  along
the path, and turning several sharp corners), - but I suppose it  will  at
last. But how curiously it twists! It's more like a corkscrew than a path!
Well, THIS turn goes to the hill, I suppose - no, it  doesn't!  This  goes
straight back to the house! Well then, I'll try it the other way.
     And so she did: wandering up and down, and trying  turn  after  turn,
but always coming back to the house, do what she would. Indeed, once, when
she turned a corner rather more quickly than usual,  she  ran  against  it
before she could stop herself.
     - It's no use talking about it," Alice said, looking up at the  house
and pretending it was arguing with her. - I'm NOT going in  again  yet.  I
know I should have to get through the Looking-glass again - back into  the
old room - and there'd be an end of all my adventures!
     So, resolutely turning back upon the house, she  set  out  once  more
down the path, determined to keep straight on till she got  to  the  hill.
For a few minutes all went on well, and she was just saying,  -  I  really
SHALL do it this time - when the path gave a sudden twist and shook itself
(as she described it afterwards), and the next moment  she  found  herself
actually walking in at the door.
     - Oh, it's too bad! - she cried. - I  never  saw  such  a  house  for
getting in the way! Never!
     However, there was the hill full in sight, so there was nothing to be
done but start again. This time she came upon a large flower-bed,  with  a
border of daisies, and a willow-tree growing in the middle.
     - O Tiger-lily, - said Alice, addressing  herself  to  one  that  was
waving gracefully about in the wind, - I WISH you could talk!
     - We CAN talk, - said the Tiger-lily: - when  there's  anybody  worth
talking to.
     Alice was so astonished that she could not speak  for  a  minute:  it
quite seemed to take her breath away. At length, as  the  Tiger-lily  only
went on waving about, she spoke again,  in  a  timid  voice  almost  in  a
whisper. - And can ALL the flowers talk?
     - As well as YOU can, - said the  Tiger-lily.  -  And  a  great  deal
louder.
     - It isn't manners for us to begin, you know, - said the Rose, -  and
I really was wondering when you'd speak! Said I to myself, "Her  face  has
got SOME sense in it, thought it's not a clever one!"  Still,  you're  the
right colour, and that goes a long way.
     - I don't care about the colour, - the Tiger-lily remarked. - If only
her petals curled up a little more, she'd be all right.
     Alice didn't like being criticised, so she began asking questions.  -
Aren't you sometimes frightened at being planted out here, with nobody  to
take care of you?
     - There's the tree in the middle, - said the Rose: - what else is  it
good for?
     - But what could it do, if any danger came? - Alice asked.
     - It says "Bough-wough!" cried a Daisy: - that's why its branches are
called boughs!
     - Didn't you know THAT? - cried another  Daisy,  and  here  they  all
began shouting together, till the air seemed quite full of  little  shrill
voices. - Silence, every one of you! - cried the Tigerlily, waving  itself
passionately from side to side, and trembling with excitement. - They know
I can't get at them! - it  panted,  bending  its  quivering  head  towards
Alice, - or they wouldn't dare to do it!
     - Never mind! - Alice said in a soothing tone, and stooping  down  to
the daisies, who were just beginning again, she whispered, - If you  don't
hold your tongues, I'll pick you!
     There was silence in a moment, and several of the pink daisies turned
white.
     - That's right! - said the Tiger-lily. - The  daisies  are  worst  of
all. When one speaks, they all begin together, and it's enough to make one
wither to hear the way they go on!
     - How is it you can all talk so nicely? - Alice said, hoping  to  get
it into a better temper by a compliment.  -  I've  been  in  many  gardens
before, but none of the flowers could talk.
     - Put your hand down, and feel the ground, - said the  Tiger-lily.  -
Then you'll know why.
     Alice did so. - It's very hard, - she said, - but I  don't  see  what
that has to do with it.
     - In most gardens, - the Tiger-lily said, - they make  the  beds  too
soft - so that the flowers are always asleep.
     This sounded a very good reason, and Alice was quite pleased to  know
it. - I never thought of that before! - she said.
     - It's MY opinion that you never think AT ALL, - the Rose said  in  a
rather severe tone.
     - I never say anybody that looked  stupider,  -  a  Violet  said,  so
suddenly, that Alice quite jumped; for it hadn't spoken before.
     - Hold YOUR tongue! - cried the Tiger-lily. -  As  if  YOU  ever  saw
anybody! You keep your head under the leaves, and snore away  there,  till
you know no more what's going on in the world, that if you were a bud!
     - Are there any more people in the garden besides me? -  Alice  said,
not choosing to notice the Rose's last remark.
     - There's one other flower in the garden that  can  move  about  like
you, - said the Rose. - I wonder how  you  do  it  -  (  -  You're  always
wondering, - said the Tiger-lily), - but she's more bushy than you are.
     - Is she like me? - Alice asked eagerly, for the thought crossed  her
mind, - There's another little girl in the garden, somewhere!
     - Well, she has the same awkward shape as you, - the Rose said, - but
she's redder - and her petals are shorter, I think.
     - Her petals  are  done  up  close,  almost  like  a  dahlia,  -  the
Tiger-lily interrupted: - not tumbled about anyhow, like yours.
     - But that's not YOUR fault,  -  the  Rose  added  kindly:  -  you're
beginning to fade, you know - and then one can't help one's petals getting
a little untidy.
     Alice didn't like this idea at all: so, to change  the  subject,  she
asked - Does she ever come out here?
     - I daresay you'll see her soon, - said the Rose. - She's one of  the
thorny kind.
     - Where does she wear the thorns? - Alice asked with some curiosity.
     - Why all round her head, of course, - the  Rose  replied.  -  I  was
wondering YOU hadn't got some too. I thought it was the regular rule.
     - She's coming! - cried the Larkspur. - I hear her  footstep,  thump,
thump, thump, along the gravel-walk!
     Alice looked round eagerly, and found that it was the  Red  Queen.  -
She's grown a good deal! - was her first  remark.  She  had  indeed:  when
Alice first found her in the ashes, she had been only three inches high  -
and here she was, half a head taller than Alice herself!
     - It's the fresh air that does it, - said  the  Rose:  -  wonderfully
fine air it is, out here.
     "I think I'll go and meet her, - said Alice, for, though the  flowers
were interesting enough, she felt that it would be far grander to  have  a
talk with a real Queen.
     - You can't possibly do that, - said the Rose: -  _I_  should  advise
you to walk the other way.
     This sounded nonsense to Alice, so she said nothing, but set  off  at
once towards the Red Queen. To her surprise, she lost sight of  her  in  a
moment, and found herself walking in at the front-door again.
     A little provoked, she drew back, and after  looking  everywhere  for
the queen (whom she spied out at last, a long way off),  she  thought  she
would try the plan, this time, of walking in the opposite direction.
     It succeeded beautifully. She had not been walking  a  minute  before
she found herself face to face with the Red Queen, and full  in  sight  of
the hill she had been so long aiming at.
     - Where do you come from? - said the Red Queen. - And where  are  you
going? Look up, speak nicely, and don't twiddle your fingers all the time.
Alice attended to all these directions, and  explained,  as  well  as  she
could, that she had lost her way.
     - I don't know what you mean by YOUR way, - said the Queen: - all the
ways about here belong to ME - but why did you come out here at all? - she
added in a kinder tone. - Curtsey while you - re thinking what to say,  it
saves time.
     Alice wondered a little at this, but she was too much in awe  of  the
Queen to disbelieve it. - I'll try it when I go home,  -  she  thought  to
herself. - the next time I'm a little late for dinner.
     - It's time for you to answer now, - the Queen said, looking  at  her
watch: - open your mouth a LITTLE wider when you  speak,  and  always  say
"your Majesty."
     - I only wanted to see what the garden was like, your Majesty
     - That's right, - said the Queen, patting  her  on  the  head,  which
Alice didn't like at all, - though, when you say  "garden,"  -  I'VE  seen
gardens, compare with which this would be a wilderness.
     Alice didn't dare to argue the point, but went on: -  and  I  thought
I'd try and find my way to the top of that hill
     - When you say "hill," - the Queen interrupted, - _I_ could show  you
hills, in comparison with which you'd call that a valley.
     - No, I shouldn't, - said Alice, surprised into contradicting her  at
last: - a hill CAN'T be a valley, you know. That would be nonsense
     The Red Queen shook her head, - You may call  it  "nonsense"  if  you
like, - she said, - but I'VE heard  nonsense,  compared  with  which  that
would be as sensible as a dictionary!
     Alice curtseyed again, as she was afraid from the Queen's  tone  that
she was a LITTLE offended: and they walked on in silence till they got  to
the top of the little hill.
     For some minutes Alice stood without speaking,  looking  out  in  all
directions over the country - and a most curious  country  it  was.  There
were a number of tiny little brooks running straight across it  from  side
to side, and the ground between was divided up into squares by a number of
little green hedges, that reached from brook to brook.
     - I declare it's marked out just like a  large  chessboard!  -  Alice
said at last. - There ought to be some men moving about somewhere  and  so
there are! - She added in a tone of delight, and her heart began  to  beat
quick with excitement as she went on. - It's a great huge  game  of  chess
that's being played - all over the world - if this IS the  world  at  all,
you know. Oh, what fun it is! How I WISH I was one  of  them!  I  wouldn't
mind being a Pawn, if only I might join - though of course I  should  LIKE
to be a Queen, best.
     She glanced rather shyly at the real Queen as she said this, but  her
companion only smiled pleasantly, and said, - That's easily  managed.  You
can be the White Queen's Pawn, if you like, as Lily's too young  to  play;
and you're in the Second Square to began with: when you get to the  Eighth
Square you'll be a Queen - Just at this moment,  somehow  or  other,  they
began to run.
     Alice never could quite make out, in thinking it over afterwards, how
it was that they began: all she remembers is, that they were running  hand
in hand, and the Queen went so fast that it was all she could do  to  keep
up with her: and still the Queen kept crying - Faster! Faster! - but Alice
felt she COULD NOT go faster, thought she had not breath left to say so.
     The most curious part of the thing was, that the trees and the  other
things round them never changed their places at  all:  however  fast  they
went, they never seemed to pass anything. - I wonder  if  all  the  things
move along with us? - thought poor puzzled Alice. And the Queen seemed  to
guess her thoughts, for she cried, - Faster! Don't try to talk!
     Not that Alice had any idea of doing THAT. She felt as if  she  would
never be able to talk again, she was getting so much out  of  breath:  and
still the Queen cried - Faster! Faster! - and dragged her along. - Are  we
nearly there? - Alice managed to pant out at last.
     - Nearly there! - the Queen repeated. - Why, we passed it ten minutes
ago! Faster! And they ran  on  for  a  time  in  silence,  with  the  wind
whistling in Alice's ears, and almost blowing her hair off her  head,  she
fancied.
     - Now! Now! - cried the Queen. - Faster! Faster! - And they  went  so
fast that at last they seemed to skim through the air, hardly touching the
ground with their feet, till suddenly, just as  Alice  was  getting  quite
exhausted, they stopped, and she found  herself  sitting  on  the  ground,
breathless and giddy.
     The Queen propped her up against a tree, and said kindly, -  You  may
rest a little now.
     Alice looked round her in great surprise. - Why, I do  believe  we've
been under this tree the whole time! Everything's just as it was!
     - Of course it is, - said the Queen, - what would you have it?
     - Well, in OUR country, - said Alice, still panting a little, - you'd
generally get to somewhere else - if you ran very fast for a long time, as
we've been doing.
     - A slow sort of country! - said the Queen. - Now, HERE, you see,  it
takes all the running YOU can do, to keep in the same place. If  you  want
to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!
     - I'd rather not try, please! - said Alice. - I'm  quite  content  to
stay here - only I AM so hot and thirsty!
     - I know what YOU'D like! - the Queen said good-naturedly,  taking  a
little box out of her pocket. - Have a biscuit?
     Alice thought it would not be civil to say - No, - though  it  wasn't
at all what she wanted. So she took it, and ate it as well as  she  could:
and it was VERY dry; and she thought she had never been so  nearly  choked
in all her life.
     - While you're refreshing yourself, - said the  Queen,  -  I'll  just
take the measurements. - And she took a ribbon out of her  pocket,  marked
in inches, and began measuring the ground, and  sticking  little  pegs  in
here and there.
     - At the end of two yards, - she said, putting in a peg to  mark  the
distance, - I shall give you your directions - have another biscuit?
     - No, thank you, - said Alice,:** - one's QUITE enough!
     - Thirst quenched, I hope? - said the Queen. Alice did not know  what
to say to this, but luckily the Queen did not
wait for an answer, but went on. - At the  end  of  THREE  yards  I  shall
repeat them - for fear of your forgetting them. At then  end  of  FOUR,  I
shall say good-bye. And at then end of FIVE, I shall go!
     She had got all the pegs put in by this time,  and  Alice  looked  on
with great interest as she returned to the tree,  and  then  began  slowly
walking down the row.
     At the two-yard peg she faced round, and said,  -  A  pawn  goes  two
squares in its first move, you know. So you'll go VERY quickly through the
Third Square - by railway, I should think - and you'll  find  yourself  in
the Fourth Square in no time. Well, THAT square belongs to Tweedledum  and
Tweedledee - the Fifth is mostly water the Sixth belongs to Humpty  Dumpty
- But you make no remark?
     - I - I didn't know I had to make one - just then, -  Alice  faltered
out.
     - You SHOULD have said, - "It's extremely kind of you to tell me  all
this" - however, we'll suppose it said - the Seventh Square is all  forest
- however, one of the Knights will show you the way - and  in  the  Eighth
Square we shall be Queens together, and it's all feasting and fun! - Alice
got up and curtseyed, and sat down again.
     At the next peg the Queen turned again, and this  time  she  said,  -
Speak in French when you can't think of the English for a thing  turn  out
your toes as you walk - and remember who you are! - She did not  wait  for
Alice to curtsey this time, but walked on quickly to the next  peg,  where
she turned for a moment to say - good-bye, - and then hurried  on  to  the
last.
     How it happened, Alice never knew, but exactly as  she  came  to  the
last peg, she was gone. Whether she vanished into the air, or whether  she
ran quickly into the wood ( - and she CAN run very fast! - thought Alice),
there was no way of guessing,  but  she  was  gone,  and  Alice  began  to
remember that she was a Pawn, and that it would soon be time  for  her  to
move.




CHAPTER III                      Looking-Glass Insects



     Of course the first thing to do was to make a  grand  survey  of  the
country she was going to  travel  through.  -  It's  something  very  like
learning geography, - thought Alice, as she stood on tiptoe  in  hopes  of
being able to see a little further. - Principal rivers - there  ARE  none.
Principal mountains - I'm on the only one, but I don't think it's got  any
name. Principal towns - why, what ARE those creatures, making  honey  down
there? They can't be bees - nobody ever saw bees a mile off,  you  know  -
and for some time she stood silent, watching one of them that was bustling
about among the flowers, poking its proboscis into them, - just as  if  it
was a regular bee, - thought Alice.
     However, this was anything but a regular  bee:  in  fact  it  was  an
elephant - as Alice soon found out, though the idea quite took her  breath
away at first. - And what enormous flowers they must be! -  was  her  next
idea. - Something like cottages with the roofs taken off, and  stalks  put
to them - and what quantities of honey they must make!  I  think  I'll  go
down and - no, I won't JUST yet, - she went on, checking herself  just  as
she was beginning to run down the hill, and trying to find some excuse for
turning shy so suddenly. - It'll never do to go down among them without  a
good long branch to brush them away - and what fun it'll be when they  ask
me how I like my walk. I shall say -"Oh, I like it well enough - " - (here
came the favourite little toss of the head), - "only it was so  dusty  and
hot, and the elephants did tease so!"
     - I think I'll go down the other way, - she said after a pause: - and
perhaps I may visit the elephants later on. Besides, I do so want  to  get
into the Third Square!
     So with this excuse she ran down the hill and jumped over  the  first
of the six little brooks.

                           * * * * * * *
                               * * * * * *
                           * * * * * * *

     - Tickets, please! - said the Guard,  putting  his  head  in  at  the
window. In a moment everybody was holding out a ticket:  they  were  about
the same size as the people, and quite seemed to fill the carriage.
     - Now then! Show your ticket, child! - the  Guard  went  on,  looking
angrily at Alice. And a great many voices all said together ( -  like  the
chorus of a song, - thought Alice), - Don't keep him waiting, child!  Why,
his time is worth a thousand pounds a minute!
     - I'm afraid I haven't got one, - Alice said in a frightened tone:  -
there wasn't a ticket-office where I came from." And again the  chorus  of
voices went on. - There wasn't room for one where she came from. The  land
there is worth a thousand pounds an inch!
     - Don't make excuses, - said the Guard: - you should have bought  one
from the engine-driver. - And once more the chorus of voices went on  with
- The man that drives the engine. Why, the smoke alone is worth a thousand
pounds a puff!
     Alice thought to herself, - Then there's no  use  in  speaking."  The
voices didn't join in this time, as she hadn't spoken, but  to  her  great
surprise, they all THOUGHT in chorus (I hope you understand what  THINKING
IN CHORUS means - for I must confess that _I_ don't), - Better say nothing
at all. Language is worth a thousand pounds a word!
     - I shall dream about a thousand pounds  tonight,  I  know  I  shall!
thought Alice.
     All this  time  the  Guard  was  looking  at  her,  first  through  a
telescope, then through a microscope, and then through an  operaglass.  At
last he said, - You're travelling the wrong way, - and shut up the  window
and went away.
     - So young a child, - said the gentleman sitting opposite to her  (he
was dressed in white paper), - ought to know which way she's  going,  even
if she doesn't know her own name!
     A Goat, that was sitting next to the gentleman  in  white,  shut  his
eyes and said in a loud voice,  -  She  ought  to  know  her  way  to  the
ticket-office, even if she doesn't know her alphabet!
     There was a Beetle sitting next to the Goat  (it  was  a  very  queer
carriage-full of passengers altogether), and, as the  rule  seemed  to  be
that they should all speak in turn, HE went on with - She'll  have  to  go
back from here as luggage!
     Alice couldn't see who was sitting beyond the Beetle,  but  a  hoarse
voice spoke next. - Change engines - it said, and  was  obliged  to  leave
off.
     - It sounds like  a  horse,  -  Alice  thought  to  herself.  And  an
extremely small voice, close to her ear, said, - You might make a joke  on
that - something about "horse" and "hoarse," you know.
     Then a very gentle voice in the distance said, - She must be labelled
"Lass, with care," you know
     And after that other voices went on (What a number  of  people  there
are in the carriage! - thought Alice), saying, - She must go by  post,  as
she's got a head on her - She must be sent as a message by the telegraph -
She must draw the train herself the rest of the way - and so on.
     But  the  gentleman  dressed  in  white  paper  leaned  forwards  and
whispered in her ear, - Never mind what they all say, my dear, but take  a
return-ticket every time the train stops."
     - Indeed I shan't! - Alice said rather impatiently. - I don't  belong
to this railway journey at all - I was in a wood just now - and I  wish  I
could get back there.
     - You might make a joke on THAT, said the little voice close  to  her
ear: - something about "you WOULD if you could," you know.
     - Don't tease so, - said Alice, looking about in vain  to  see  where
the voice came from; - if you're so anxious to have a joke made, why don't
you make one yourself?
     The little voice sighed deeply: it was VERY unhappy,  evidently,  and
Alice would have said something pitying to comfort it, - If it would  only
sigh like other people! - she thought. But this  was  such  a  wonderfully
small sigh, that she wouldn't have heard it at  all,  if  it  hadn't  come
QUITE close to her ear. The consequence of this was that  it  tickled  her
ear very much, and quite took off her thoughts from the unhappiness of the
poor little creature.
     - I know you are a friend, the little voice went on; - a dear friend,
and an old friend. And you won't hurt me, though I AM an insect.
     - What kind of insect? - Alice inquired a little anxiously. What  she
really wanted to know was, whether it could sting or not, but she  thought
this wouldn't be quite a civil question to ask.
     - What, then you don't - the little voice began, when it was  drowned
by a shrill scream from the engine, and  everybody  jumped  up  in  alarm,
Alice among the rest.
     The Horse, who had put his head out of the window, quietly drew it in
and said, - It's only a brook we have to jump  over.  -  Everybody  seemed
satisfied with this, though Alice felt a little nervous  at  the  idea  of
trains jumped at all. - However, it'll take us  into  the  Fourth  Square,
that's some comfort! - she said to herself. In another moment she felt the
carriage rise straight up into the air, and in her fright  she  caught  at
the thing nearest to her hand. which happened to be the Goat's beard.

                           * * * * * * *
                               * * * * * *
                           * * * * * * *

     But the beard seemed to melt away as she touched it,  and  she  found
herself sitting quietly under a tree - while the Gnat (for  that  was  the
insect she had been talking to) was balancing itself on a twig  just  over
her head, and fanning her with its wings.
     It certainly was a VERY large Gnat: - about the size  of  a  chicken,
Alice thought. Still, she couldn't feel nervous with it,  after  they  had
been talking together so long.
     - then you don't like all insects? - the Gnat went on, as quietly  as
if nothing had happened.
     - I like them when they can talk, - Alice said. - None of  them  ever
talk, where _I_ come from.
     - What sort of insects do you rejoice in, where YOU come from? -  the
Gnat inquired.
     - I don't REJOICE in insects at all, - Alice explained, - because I'm
rather afraid of them - at least the large kinds. But I can tell  you  the
names of some of them."
     - Of  course  they  answer  to  their  names?  -  the  Gnat  remarked
carelessly.
     - I never knew them do it.
     - What's the use of their having names the Gnat said, - if they won't
answer to them?
     - No use to THEM, - said Alice; - but it's useful to the  people  who
name them, I suppose. If not, why do things have names at all?
     - I can't say, - the Gnat replied. - Further on,  in  the  wood  down
there, they've got no names - however, go on with your  list  of  insects:
you're wasting time.
     - Well, there's the Horse-fly, - Alice began, counting off the  names
on her fingers.
     - All right, - said the Gnat: - half way up that bush, you'll  see  a
Rocking-horse-fly, if you look. It's made entirely of wood, and gets about
by swinging itself from branch to branch.
     - What does it live on? - Alice asked, with great curiosity.
     - Sap and sawdust, - said the Gnat. - Go  on  with  the  list.  Alice
looked up at the Rocking-horse-fly with great interest, and
made up her mind that it must have  been  just  repainted,  it  looked  so
bright and sticky; and then she went on.
     - And there's the Dragon-fly.
     - Look on the branch above your head, - said the Gnat,  -  and  there
you'll find a snap-dragon-fly. Its body is made of plum-pudding, its wings
of holly-leaves, and its head is a raisin burning in brandy.
     - And what does it live on?
     - Frumenty and mince pie, - the Gnat replied; - and it makes is  nest
in a Christmas box.
     - And then there's the Butterfly, - Alice  went  on,  after  she  had
taken a good look at the insect with its head on fire, and had thought  to
herself, - I wonder if that's the reason insects are  so  fond  of  flying
into candles - because they want to turn into Snap-dragon-flies!
     - Crawling at your feet, - said the Gnat (Alice drew her feet back in
some alarm), - you may observe a Bread-and-Butterfly. Its wings  are  thin
slices of Bread-and-butter, its body is a crust, and its head is a lump of
sugar.
     - And what does IT live on?
     - Weak tea with cream in it. A new difficulty came into Alice's head.
- Supposing it couldn't find
any? - she suggested.
     - Then it would die, of course.
     - But that must happen very often, - Alice remarked thoughtfully.
     - It always happens, - said the Gnat. After this,  Alice  was  silent
for a minute or two, pondering. The Gnat
amused itself meanwhile by humming round and round her head:  at  last  it
settled again and remarked, - I suppose you don't want to lose your name?
     - No, indeed, - Alice said, a little anxiously.
     - And yet I don't know, - the Gnat went on in a careless tone: - only
think how convenient it would be if you could manage to  go  home  without
it! For instance, if the governess wanted to call you to your lessons, she
would call out "come here - ," and there she  would  have  to  leave  off,
because there wouldn't be any name for her  to  all,  and  of  course  you
wouldn't have to go, you know.
     - That would never do, I'm sure, - said Alice: - the governess  would
never think of excusing me lessons for that. If she couldn't  remember  my
name, she'd call me "Miss!" as the servants do.
     - Well. if she said "Miss," and didn't say anything more, - the  Gnat
remarked, - of course you'd miss your lessons. That's a joke. I  wish  YOU
had made it.
     - Why do you wish _I_ had made it? - Alice asked. - It's a  very  bad
one.
     But the Gnat only sighed deeply, while two large tears  came  rolling
down its cheeks.
     - You shouldn't make jokes, - Alice  said,  -  if  it  makes  you  so
unhappy.
     Then came another of those melancholy little sighs, and this time the
poor Gnat really seemed to have sighed itself away, for, when Alice looked
up, there was nothing whatever to be seen on the twig,  and,  as  she  was
getting quite chilly with sitting still so, long she got up and walked on.
     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 how, 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 he 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, of 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 a 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?
     It was not a very difficult question to answer, as there was only one
road through the wood, and the two finger-posts both pointed along  it.  -
I'll settle it, - Alice said to herself, - when the road divides and  they
point different ways.
     But this did not seem likely to happen. She went on and  on,  a  long
way, but wherever the road divided there were sure to be two  finger-posts
pointing the same way, one marked - TO TWEEDLEDUM'S HOUSE - and the  other
- TO THE HOUSE OF TWEEDLEDEE.
     - I do believe, - said Alice at last, - that they live  in  the  same
house! I wonder I never thought of that before - But I  can't  stay  there
long. I'll just call and say "how d'you do?" and ask them the way  out  of
the wood. If I could only get the Eighth Square before it gets dark! -  So
she wandered on, talking to herself as she went, till, on turning a  sharp
corner, she came upon two fat little men, so suddenly that she  could  not
help starting back, but in another moment she recovered  herself,  feeling
sure that they must be




CHAPTER IV                       Tweedledum and Tweedledee




     They were standing under a tree, each with an arm round  the  other's
neck, and Alice knew which was which in a moment, because one of them  had
- DUM - embroidered on his collar, and  the  other  -  DEE.  -  I  suppose
they've each got "TWEEDLE" round at the back of the collar, - she said  to
herself.
     They stood so still that she quite forgot they were  alive,  and  she
was just looking round to see if the word "TWEEDLE"  was  written  at  the
back of each collar, when she was startled by a voice coming from the  one
marked - DUM.
     - If you think we're wax-works, - he said, - you ought  to  pay,  you
know. Wax-works weren't made to be looked at for nothing, Nohow!
     - Contrariwise, - added the one marked - DEE, - if  you  think  we're
alive, you ought to speak.
     - I'm sure I'm very sorry, - was all Alice could say; for  the  words
of the old song kept ringing through her head like the ticking of a clock,
and she could hardly help saying them out loud:

             - Tweedledum and Tweedledee
              Agreed to have a battle;
            For Tweedledum said Tweedledee
              Had spoiled his nice new rattle.

            Just then flew down a monstrous crow,
              As black as a tar-barrel;
            Which frightened both the heroes so,
              They quite forgot their quarrel.

     - I know what you're thinking about, -  said  Tweedledum:  -  but  it
isn't so, nohow.
     - Contrariwise, - continued Tweedledee, - if it was so, it might  be;
and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic.
     - I was thinking, - Alice said very politely, - which is the best way
out of this wood: it's getting so dark. Would you tell me, please?
     But the little men only looked at each other and grinned.
     They looked so exactly like a couple of great schoolboys, that  Alice
couldn't help pointing her finger at Tweedledum, and saying - First Boy!
     - Nohow! - Tweedledum cried out briskly, and shut his mouth up  again
with a snap.
     - Next Boy! - said Alice, passing on to Tweedledee, though  she  felt
quite certain he would only shout out "Contrariwise! - and so he did.
     - You've been wrong! - cried Tweedledum. - The first thing in a visit
is to say "How d'ye do?" and shake hands! - And here the two brothers gave
each other a hug, and then they held out the two hands that were free,  to
shake hands with her.
     Alice did not like shaking hands with either of them first, for  fear
of hurting the other one's feelings; so,  as  the  best  way  out  of  the
difficulty, she took hold of both hands at once: the next moment they were
dancing found in  a  ring.  This  seemed  quite  natural  (she  remembered
afterwards), and she was not even surprised  to  hear  music  playing:  it
seemed to come from the tree under which they were  dancing,  and  it  was
done (as well as she could make it out) by the branches rubbing one across
the other, like fiddles and fiddle-sticks.
     - But it certainly WAS funny, - (Alice said afterwards, when she  was
telling her sister the history of all this,)  -  to  find  myself  singing
"HERE WE GO ROUND THE MULBERRY BUSH." I don't know when I  began  it,  but
somehow I felt as if I'd been singing it a long long time!
     The other two dancers were fat, and very soon out of breath.  -  Four
times round is enough for one dance, - Tweedledum  panted  out,  and  they
left off dancing as suddenly as they had begun: the music stopped  at  the
same moment.
     Then they let go of Alice's hands, and stood looking  at  her  for  a
minute: there was a rather awkward pause, as  Alice  didn't  know  how  to
begin a conversation with people she had just  been  dancing  with.  -  It
would never do to say "How d'ye do?" NOW, - she said to herself: - we seem
to have got beyond that, somehow!
     - I hope you're not much tired? - she said at last.
     - Nohow. And thank you VERY much for asking, - said Tweedledum.
     - So much obliged! - added Tweedledee. - You like poetry?
     - Ye-es. pretty well - SOME poetry, - Alice said doubtfully. -  Would
you tell me which road leads out of the wood?
     - What shall I repeat to her? - said  Tweedledee,  looking  round  at
Tweedledum with great solemn eyes, and not noticing Alice's question.
     - "THE WALRUS  AND  THE  CARPENTER"  is  the  longest,  -  Tweedledum
replied, giving his brother an affectionate hug.
     Tweedledee began instantly:

                 - The sun was shining

     Here Alice ventured to interrupt him. - If  it's  VERY  long,  -  she
said, as politely as she could, - would you please  tell  me  first  which
road
     Tweedledee smiled gently, and began again:

             - The sun was shining on the sea,
              Shining with all his might:
            He did his very best to make
              The billows smooth and bright
            And this was odd, because it was
              The middle of the night.

            The moon was shining sulkily,
              Because she thought the sun
            Had got no business to be there
              After the day was done
            "It's very rude of him," she said,
              "To come and spoil the fun!"

            The sea was wet as wet could be,
              The sands were dry as dry.
            You could not see a cloud, because
              No cloud was in the sky:
            No birds were flying over head
              There were no birds to fly.

            The Walrus and the Carpenter
              Were walking close at hand;
            They wept like anything to see
              Such quantities of sand:
            "If this were only cleared away,"
              They said, "it WOULD be grand!"

            "If seven maids with seven mops
              Swept it for half a year,
            Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
              "That they could get it clear?"
            "I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
              And shed a bitter tear.

            "O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
              The Walrus did beseech.
            "A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
              Along the briny beach:
            We cannot do with more than four,
              To give a hand to each."

            The eldest Oyster looked at him.
              But never a word he said:
            The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
              And shook his heavy head
            Meaning to say he did not choose
              To leave the oyster-bed.

            But four young oysters hurried up,
              All eager for the treat:
            Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
              Their shoes were clean and neat
            And this was odd, because, you know,
              They hadn't any feet.

            Four other Oysters followed them,
              And yet another four;
            And thick and fast they came at last,
              And more, and more, and more
            All hopping through the frothy waves,
              And scrambling to the shore.

            The Walrus and the Carpenter
              Walked on a mile or so,
            And then they rested on a rock
              Conveniently low:
            And all the little Oysters stood
              And waited in a row.

            "The time has come," the Walrus said,
              "To talk of many things:
            Of shoes  -  and ships  -  and sealing-wax
              Of cabbages  -  and kings
            And why the sea is boiling hot
              And whether pigs have wings."

            "But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
              "Before we have our chat;
            For some of us are out of breath,
              And all of us are fat!"
            "No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
              They thanked him much for that.

            "A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
              "Is what we chiefly need:
            Pepper and vinegar besides
              Are very good indeed
            Now if you're ready Oysters dear,
              We can begin to feed."

            "But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
              Turning a little blue,
            "After such kindness, that would be
              A dismal thing to do!"
            "The night is fine," the Walrus said
              "Do you admire the view?

            "It was so kind of you to come!
              And you are very nice!"
            The Carpenter said nothing but
              "Cut us another slice:
            I wish you were not quite so deaf
              I've had to ask you twice!"

            "It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
              "To play them such a trick,
            After we've brought them out so far,
              And made them trot so quick!"
            The Carpenter said nothing but
              "The butter's spread too thick!"

            "I weep for you," the Walrus said.
              "I deeply sympathize."
            With sobs and tears he sorted out
              Those of the largest size.
            Holding his pocket handkerchief
              Before his streaming eyes.

            "O Oysters," said the Carpenter.
              "You've had a pleasant run!
            Shall we be trotting home again?"
              But answer came there none
            And that was scarcely odd, because
              They'd eaten every one.

     - I like the Walrus best, - said Alice: - because you see  he  was  a
LITTLE sorry for the poor oysters.
     - He ate more than the Carpenter, though, - said  Tweedledee.  -  You
see he held his handkerchief in front,  so  that  the  Carpenter  couldn't
count how many he took: contrariwise.
     - That was mean!  -  Alice  said  indignantly.  -  Then  I  like  the
Carpenter best - if he didn't eat so many as the Walrus.
     - But he ate as many as he could get, - said Tweedledum. This  was  a
puzzler. After a pause, Alice began, - Well! They were
BOTH very unpleasant characters - Here she checked herself in some  alarm,
at hearing something that sounded to her  like  the  puffing  of  a  large
steam-engine in the wood near them, thought she feared it was more  likely
to be a wild beast. - Are there any lions or  tigers  about  here?  -  she
asked timidly.
     - It's only the Red King snoring, - said Tweedledee.
     - Come and look at him! - the brothers cried, and they each took  one
of Alice's hands, and led her up to where the King was sleeping.
     - Isn't he a LOVELY  sight?"  said  Tweedledum.  Alice  couldn't  say
honestly that he was. He had a tall red night-cap
on, with a tassel, and he was lying crumpled up  into  a  sort  of  untidy
heap, and snoring loud - fit to  snore  his  head  off!  -  as  Tweedledum
remarked.
     - I'm afraid he'll catch cold with lying on the damp  grass,  -  said
Alice, who was a very thoughtful little girl.
     - He's dreaming now, - said Tweedledee: - and what do you think  he's
dreaming about?
     Alice said - Nobody can guess that. - Why, about  YOU!  -  Tweedledee
exclaimed, clapping his hands
triumphantly.  - And if he left off dreaming about  you,  where  do  you
suppose you'd be?
     - Where I am now, of course, - said Alice.
     - Not you! - Tweedledee retorted contemptuously. - You'd be  nowhere.
Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream!
     - If that there King was to wake, - added Tweedledum, - you'd go  out
- bang! - just like a candle!
     - I shouldn't! - Alice exclaimed indignantly. - Besides, if I'M  only
a sort of thing in his dream, what are YOU, I should like to know?
     - Ditto - said Tweedledum.
     - Ditto, ditto - cried Tweedledee. He shouted this so loud that Alice
couldn't help saying, - Hush!
You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise.
     - Well, it no use YOUR talking about waking him, - said Tweedledum, -
when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're
not real.
     - I AM real! - said Alice and began to cry.
     - You won't make yourself a  bit  realler  by  crying,  -  Tweedledee
remarked: - there's nothing to cry about.
     - If I wasn't real, - Alice said - half-laughing though her tears, it
all seemed so ridiculous - I shouldn't be able to cry.
     - I hope you  don't  suppose  those  are  real  tears?  -  Tweedledum
interrupted in a tone of great contempt.
     - I know they're talking nonsense, - Alice thought to herself: -  and
it's foolish to cry about it. - So she brushed away her tears, and went on
as cheerfully as she could. - At any rate I'd better be getting out of the
wood, for really it's coming on very dark. Do  you  think  it's  going  to
rain?
     Tweedledum spread a large umbrella over himself and his brother,  and
looked up into it. - No, I don't think it is, - he said: - at least -  not
under HERE. Nohow.
     - But it may rain OUTSIDE?
     - It may - if it chooses, - said Tweedledee: -  we've  no  objection.
Contrariwise.
     - Selfish things! - thought Alice, and she was just going  to  say  -
Good-night - and leave them, when Tweedledum sprang  out  from  under  the
umbrella and seized her by the wrist.
     - Do you see THAT? - he said, in a voice choking  with  passion,  and
his eyes grew large and yellow all in a  moment,  as  he  pointed  with  a
trembling finger at a small white thing lying under the tree.
     - It's only a rattle, - Alice said, after a  careful  examination  of
the little white thing. -  Not  a  rattleSNAKE,  you  know,  -  she  added
hastily, thinking that he was frightened: only an old rattle -  quite  old
and broken.
     - I knew it was! - cried Tweedledum, beginning to stamp about  wildly
and tear his hair.  -  It's  spoilt,  of  course!  -  Here  he  looked  at
Tweedledee, who immediately sat down on the  ground,  and  tried  to  hide
himself under the umbrella.
     Alice laid her hand upon his arm, and said in a soothing tone, -  You
needn't be so angry about an old rattle.
     - But it isn't old! - Tweedledum cried, in a greater fury than  ever.
- It's new, I tell you - I bought it yesterday - my nice New RATTLE! - and
his voice rose to a perfect scream.
     All this time Tweedledee was trying his best to fold up the umbrella,
with himself in it: which was such an extraordinary thing to do,  that  it
quite took off Alice's attention from the angry brother. But  he  couldn't
quite succeed, and it ended  in  his  rolling  over,  bundled  up  in  the
umbrella, with only his head out: and there he lay, opening  and  shutting
his mouth and his large eyes - 'looking more like  a  fish  than  anything
else, - Alice thought.
     - Of course you agree to have a battle? - Tweedledum said in a calmer
tone.
     - I suppose so, - the other sulkily replied, as he crawled out of the
umbrella: - only SHE must help us to dress up, you know.
     So the two brothers went off hand-in-hand into the wood, and returned
in a minute with their arms full of things - such as  bolsters,  blankets,
hearth-rugs, table-cloths, dish-covers and coal-scuttles. - I hope  you're
a good hand a pinning and tying strings? - Tweedledum  remarked.  -  Every
one of these things has got to go on, somehow or other.
     Alice said afterwards she had never  seen  such  a  fuss  made  about
anything in all her life - the  way  those  two  bustled  about  -and  the
quantity of things they put on - and the trouble they gave  her  in  tying
strings and fastening buttons - Really they'll be more like bundles of old
clothes that anything else, by the time  they're  ready!  -  she  said  to
herself, as he arranged a bolster round the neck of Tweedledee, - to  keep
his head from being cut off, - as he said.
     - You know, - he added very gravely, - it's one of the  most  serious
things that can possibly happen to one in a battle - to get one's head cut
off.
     Alice laughed loud: but she managed to turn it into a cough, for fear
of hurting his feelings.
     - Do I look very pale? - said  Tweedledum,  coming  up  to  have  his
helmet tied on. (He CALLED it a helmet, though it  certainly  looked  much
more like a saucepan.)
     - Well - yes - a LITTLE, - Alice replied gently.
     - I'm very brave generally, - he went on  in  a  low  voice:  -  only
to-day I happen to have a headache.
     - And I'VE got a toothache! - said Tweedledee, who had overheard  the
remark. - I'm far worse off than you!
     - Then you'd better not fight to-day, - said  Alice,  thinking  it  a
good opportunity to make peace.
     - We MUST have a bit of a fight, but I  don't  care  about  going  on
long, - said Tweedledum. - What's the time now?
     Tweedledee looked at his watch, and said - Half-past  four.  -  Let's
fight till six, and then have dinner, - said Tweedledum. -  Very  well,  -
the other said, rather sadly: - and SHE can watch us
only you'd better not come VERY close, - he  added:   - I  generally  hit
everything I can see  -  when I get really excited.
     - And _I_ hit everything within reach, - cried Tweedledum, -  whether
I can see it or not!
     Alice laughed. - You must hit the TREES pretty often, I should think,
- she said.
     Tweedledum looked round him with a satisfied smile. I don't  suppose,
- he said, - there'll be a tree left standing, for ever so far  round,  by
the time we've finished!
     - And all about a rattle! - said Alice, still hoping to make  them  a
LITTLE ashamed of fighting for such a trifle.
     - I shouldn't have minded it so much, -  said  Tweedledum,  -  if  it
hadn't been a new one.
     - I wish the monstrous crow would come! - though Alice.
     - There's only one sword, you know, - Tweedledum said to his brother:
- but you can have the umbrella - it's quite as sharp. Only we must  begin
quick. It's getting as dark as it can.
     - And darker. - said Tweedledee. It was getting dark so suddenly that
Alice thought there must be a
thunderstorm coming on. - What a thick black cloud that is! - she said.  -
And how fast it comes! Why, I do believe it's got wings!
     - It's the crow! - Tweedledum cried out in a shrill voice  of  alarm:
and the two brothers took to their heels  and  were  out  of  sight  in  a
moment.
     Alice ran a little way into the wood, and stopped under a large tree.
- It can never get at me HERE, - she thought: -  it's  far  too  large  to
squeeze itself in among the trees. But I wish it wouldn't flap  its  wings
so - it make quite a hurricane in the wood - here's somebody's shawl being
blown away!



CHAPTER V                        Wool and Water



     She caught the shawl as she spoke, and looked about for the owner: in
another moment the White Queen came running wildly through the wood,  with
both arms stretched out wide, as  if  she  were  flying,  and  Alice  very
civilly went to meet her with the shawl.
     - I'm very glad I happened to be in the way, -  Alice  said,  as  she
helped her to put on her shawl again.
     The While Queen only looked at her in a helpless frightened  sort  of
way, and kept repeating something in a whisper  to  herself  that  sounded
like - bread-and-butter, bread-and-butter, - and Alice felt that if  there
was to be any conversation at all, she must  manage  it  herself.  So  she
began rather timidly: - Am I addressing the White Queen?
     - Well, yes, if you call that a-dressing, -  The  Queen  said.  -  It
isn't MY notion of the thing, at all."
     Alice thought it would never do to  have  an  argument  at  the  very
beginning of their conversation, so she smiled and said, - If your Majesty
will only tell me the right way to begin, I'll do it as well as I can.
     - But I don't want it done at all! - groaned the poor Queen.  -  I've
been a-dressing myself for the last two hours.
     It would have been all the better, as it seemed to Alice, if she  had
got some one else to dress her, she was  so  dreadfully  untidy.  -  Every
single thing's crooked, - Alice thought to herself, - and she's  all  over
pins! - may I put your shawl straight for you? - she added aloud.
     - I don't know what's the matter with it! -  the  Queen  said,  in  a
melancholy voice. - It's out of temper, I think. I've pinned it here,  and
I've pinned it there, but there's no pleasing it!
     - It CAN'T go straight, you know, if you pin  it  all  on  one  side,
Alice said, as she gently put it right for her; - and,  dear  me,  what  a
state your hair is in!
     - The brush has got entangled in it! - the Queen said with a sigh.  -
And I lost the comb yesterday.
     Alice carefully released the brush, and did her best to get the  hair
into order. - Come, you look rather better now! - she said, after altering
most of the pins. - But really you should have a lady's maid!
     - I'm sure I'll take you with pleasure! - the Queen said. -  Twopence
a week, and jam every other day.
     Alice couldn't help laughing, as she said, - I don't want you to hire
ME - and I don't care for jam.
     - It's very good jam, - said the Queen.
     - Well, I don't want any TO-DAY, at any rate.
     - You couldn't have it if you DID want it, - the Queen  said.  -  The
rule is, jam to-morrow and jam yesterday - but never jam to-day.
     - It MUST come sometimes to "jam do-day," - Alice objected.
     - No, it can't, - said the Queen. - It's jam every OTHER day:  to-day
isn't any OTHER day, you know.
     - I don't understand you, - said Alice. - It's dreadfully confusing!
     - That's the effect of living backwards, - the Queen said  kindly:  -
it always makes one a little giddy at first
     - Living backwards! - Alice repeated in great astonishment. - I never
heard of such a thing!
     - but there's one great advantage in it, that one's memory works both
ways.
     - I'm sure MINE only works one way.  -  Alice  remarked.  -  I  can't
remember things before they happen.
     - It's a poor sort of memory that only works backwards, -  the  Queen
remarked.
     - What sort of things do YOU remember best? - Alice ventured to ask.
     - Oh, things that happened the week after next, - the  Queen  replied
in a careless tone. - For instance, now, - she went on, sticking  a  large
piece of plaster [band-aid] on her finger as  she  spoke,  -  there's  the
King's Messenger. He's in  prison  now,  being  punished:  and  the  trial
doesn't even begin till next Wednesday: and of course the crime comes last
of all.
     - Suppose he never commits the crime? - said Alice.
     - That would be all the better wouldn't it? - the Queen said, as  she
bound the plaster round her finger with a bit of ribbon.
     Alice felt there was no denying THAT. - Of course it would be all the
better, - she said: -  but  it  wouldn't  be  all  the  better  his  being
punished.
     - You're wrong THERE, at any rate, - said the Queen: - were YOU  ever
punished?
     - Only for faults, - said Alice.
     - And you were all the better for  it,  I  know!  -  the  Queen  said
triumphantly.
     - Yes, but then I HAD done the things I  was  punished  for,  -  said
Alice: - that makes all the difference.
     - But if you HADN'T done them, - the Queen said, -  that  would  have
been better still; better, and better, and better! - Her voice went higher
with each - better, - till it got quite to a squeak at last.
     Alice was just beginning to say - There's a mistake somewhere-, -  **
when the Queen began screaming so loud that she had to leave the  sentence
unfinished. - Oh, oh, oh! - shouted the Queen, shaking her hand  about  as
if she wanted to shake it off. - 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.
     - Take care! - cried Alice. - You're holding it all  crooked!  -  And
she caught at the brooch; but it was too late: the pin  had  slipped,  and
the Queen had pricked her finger.
     - That accounts for the bleeding, you see, - she said to Alice with a
smile. - Now you understand the way things happen here.
     - But why don't you scream now? -  Alice  asked,  holding  her  hands
ready to put over her ears again.
     - Why, I've done all the screaming already, - said the Queen. -  What
would be the good of having it all over again?
     By this time it was getting light. - The crow must have flown away, I
think, - said Alice: - I'm so glad it's gone. I thought it was  the  night
coming on.
     - I wish _I_ could manage to be glad! - the  Queen  said.  -  Only  I
never can remember the rule. You must be very happy, living in this  wood,
and being glad whenever you like!
     - Only it is so VERY lonely here! - Alice said in a melancholy voice;
and at the thought of her loneliness two large tears came rolling down her
cheeks.
     - Oh, don't go on like that! - cried the  poor  Queen,  wringing  her
hands in despair. - Consider what a great girl you are.  Consider  what  a
long way you've  come  to-day.  Consider  what  o'clock  it  is.  Consider
anything, only don't cry!
     Alice could not help laughing at this,  even  in  the  midst  of  her
tears. - Can YOU keep from crying by considering things? - she asked.
     - That's the way it's done, - the Queen said with great  decision:  -
nobody can do two things at once, you know.  Let's  consider  you  age  to
begin with - how old are you?
     - I - m seven and a half exactly.
     - You needn't say "exactually," - the Queen remarked: - I can believe
it without that. Now I'll give YOU something  to  believe.  I'm  just  one
hundred and one, five months and a day.
     - I can't believe THAT! - said Alice.
     - Can't you? - the Queen said in a pitying tone. - Try again: draw  a
long breath, and shut your eyes.
     Alice laughed. - There's not use trying, -  she  said:  -  one  CAN'T
believe impossible things.
     - I daresay you haven't had much practice, - said the Queen. - When I
was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes  I've
believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. There goes the
shawl again!
     The brooch had come undone as she spoke, and a sudden  gust  of  wind
blew the Queen's shawl across a little brook. The  Queen  spread  out  her
arms again, and went flying after it,  and  this  time  she  succeeded  in
catching it for herself. - I've got! - she cried in a triumphant  tone.  -
Now you shall see me pin it on again, all by myself!
     - Then I hope your finger is better now? - Alice said very  politely,
as she crossed the little brook after the Queen.

                           * * * * * * *
                               * * * * * *
                           * * * * * * *

     - Oh, much better! - cried the Queen, her voice rising to a squeak as
she went on. - Much be-etter! Be-etter! Be-e-e-etter! Be-e-ehh! - The last
word ended in a long bleat, so like a sheep that Alice quite started.
     She looked at the Queen, who seemed to have suddenly wrapped  herself
up in wool. Alice rubbed her eyes, and looked again. She couldn't make out
what had happened at all. Was she in a shop? And was that really - was  it
really a SHEEP that was sitting on the other side of the counter?  Rub  as
she could, she could make nothing more of it: she was  in  a  little  dark
shop, leaning with her elbows on the counter, and opposite to  her  was  a
old Sheep, sitting in an  arm-chair  knitting,  and  every  now  and  then
leaving off to look at her through a great pair of spectacles.
     - What is it you want to buy? - the Sheep said at  last,  looking  up
for a moment from her knitting.
     - I don't QUITE know yet, - Alice said, very gently. I should like to
look all round me first, if I might.
     - You may look in front of you, and on both sides, if you like,  said
the Sheep: - but you can't look ALL round you - unless you've got eyes  at
the back of your head.
     But these, as it happened,  Alice  had  NOT  got:  so  she  contented
herself with turning round, looking at the shelves as she came to them.
     The shop seemed to be full of all manner of curious things - but  the
oddest part of it all was, that whenever she looked hard at any shelf,  to
make out exactly what it had on it, that particular shelf was always quite
empty: though the others round it were crowded as full as they could hold.
- Things flow about so here! - she said at last in a plaintive tone, after
she had spent a minute or so in vainly pursuing a large bright thing, that
looked sometimes like a doll and sometimes like a work-box, and was always
in the shelf next above the one she was looking at. - And this one is  the
most provoking of all - but I'll tell you what - she added,  as  a  sudden
thought struck her, - I'll follow it up to the  very  top  shelf  of  all.
It'll puzzle it to go through the ceiling, I expect!
     But even this plan failed: the - thing - went through the ceiling  as
quietly as possible, as if it were quite used to it.
     - Are you a child or a teetotum? - the Sheep said,  as  she  took  up
another pair of needles. - You'll make me giddy soon, if you go on turning
round like that. - She was now working with fourteen pairs  at  once,  and
Alice couldn't help looking at her in great astonishment.
     - How CAN she knit with so many?  -  the  puzzled  child  thought  to
herself. - She gets more and more like a porcupine every minute!
     - Can you row? - the Sheep asked, handing  her  a  pair  of  knitting
needles as she spoke.
     - Yes, a little - but not on land - and not with  needles  Alice  was
beginning to say, when suddenly the needles turned into oars in her hands,
and she found they were in a little boat, gliding along between banks:  so
there was nothing for it but to do her best.
     - Feather! - cried the Sheep, as she took up another pair of needles.
This didn't sound like a remark that needed any answer, so Alice said
nothing, but pulled away. There was something very queer about the  water,
she thought, as every now and then the oars got  fast  in  it,  and  would
hardly come out again.
     - Feather! Feather! - the Sheep cried again, taking more  needles.  -
You'll be catching a crab directly.
     - A dear little crab! - thought Alice. - I should like that.
     - Didn't you hear me say "Feather"? - the Sheep cried angrily, taking
up quite a bunch of needles.
     - Indeed I did, - said Alice: - you've said it very often - and  very
loud. Please, where ARE the crabs?
     - In the water, of course! - said the Sheep,  sticking  some  of  the
needles into her hair, as her hands were full. - Feather, I say!
     - WHY do you say "feather" so often? - Alice asked  at  last,  rather
vexed. 'I'm not a bird!
     - You are, - said the Sheet: - you're a little goose.  This  offended
Alice a little, so there was no more conversation for a
minute or two, while the boat glided gently on, sometimes  among  beds  of
weeds (which made the oars stick fast in the water, worse then ever),  and
sometimes under trees, but always with the same tall river-banks  frowning
over their heads.
     - Oh, please! There are some scented  rushes!  -  Alice  cried  in  a
sudden transport of delight. - There really are - and SUCH beauties!
     - You needn't say "please" to ME about - em - the Sheep said, without
looking up from her knitting: - I didn't put - em there, and I'm not going
to take - em away.
     - No, but I meant - please, may  we  wait  and  pick  some?  -  Alice
pleaded. - If you don't mind stopping the boat for a minute.
     - How am _I_ to stop it? - said the Sheep. - If you leave off rowing,
it'll stop of itself.
     So the boat was left to drift down the stream as it  would,  till  it
glided gently in among the waving rushes. And then the little sleeves were
carefully rolled up, and the little arms were plunged in elbow-deep to get
the rushes a good long way down before breaking them off - and for a while
Alice forgot all about the Sheep and the knitting, as she  bent  over  the
side of the boat, with just the ends of her tangled hair dipping into  the
water - while with bright eager eyes she caught at one bunch after another
of the darling scented rushes.
     - I only hope the boat won't tipple over! - she said to herself.  Oh,
WHAT a lovely one! Only I couldn't quite reach it. - And it certainly  DID
seem a little provoking ( - almost as  if  it  happened  on  purpose,  she
thought) that, though she managed to pick plenty of  beautiful  rushes  as
the boat glided by, there was always a more lovely one that  she  couldn't
reach.
     - The prettiest are always further! - she said at last, with  a  sigh
at the obstinacy of the rushes in growing so far  off,  as,  with  flushed
cheeks and dripping hair and hands, she scrambled back into her place, and
began to arrange her new-found treasures.
     What mattered it to her just than that the rushes had begun to  fade,
and to lose all their scent and beauty, from  the  very  moment  that  she
picked them? Even real scented rushes, you know, last only a  very  little
while - and these, being dream-rushes, melted away almost  like  snow,  as
they lay in heaps at her feet -but Alice hardly noticed this,  there  were
so many other curious things to think about.
     They hadn't gone much farther before the blade of one of the oars got
fast in the water and WOULDN'T come  out  again  (so  Alice  explained  it
afterwards), and the consequence was that the  handle  of  it  caught  her
under the chin, and, in spite of a series of little shrieks of -  Oh,  oh,
oh! - from poor Alice, it swept her straight off the seat, and down  among
the heap of rushes.
     However, she wasn't hurt, and was soon up again: the  Sheep  went  on
with her knitting all the while, just as if nothing had happened.
     - That was a nice crab you caught! - she remarked, as Alice got  back
into her place, very much relieved to find herself still in the boat.
     - Was it? I didn't see it, - Said Alice, peeping cautiously over  the
side of the boat into the dark water. - I wish it hadn't let go - I should
so like to see a little crab to take home with me! - But  the  Sheep  only
laughed scornfully, and went on with her knitting.
     - Are there many crabs here? - said Alice.
     - Crabs, and all sorts of things, -  said  the  Sheep:  -  plenty  of
choice, only make up your mind. Now, what DO you want to buy?
     - To buy! - Alice echoes in a tone that was half astonished and  half
frightened - for the oars, and the boat, and the river, had  vanished  all
in a moment, and she was back again in the little dark shop.
     - I should like to buy an egg, please, - she said timidly. -  How  do
you sell them?
     - Fivepence farthing for one - Twopence for two, - the Sheep replied.
     - Then two are cheaper than one? - Alice said in  a  surprised  tone,
taking out her purse.
     - Only you MUST eat them both, if you buy two, - said the Sheep.
     - Then I'll have ONE, please, - said Alice, as she put the money down
on the counter. For she thought to herself, -  They  mightn't  be  at  all
nice, you know.
     The Sheep took the money, and put it away in a box: then she said - I
never put things into people's hands - that would never do - you must  get
it for yourself. - And so saying, she went off to the  other  end  of  the
shop, and set the egg upright on a shelf.
     - I wonder WHY it wouldn't do? - thought Alice, as she groped her way
among the tables and chairs, for the shop was very dark towards the end. -
The egg seems to get further away the more I walk towards it. Let me  see,
is this a chair? Why, it's got branches, I declare! How very odd  to  find
trees growing here! And actually here's a little brook! Well, this is  the
very queerest shop I ever saw!

                           * * * * * * *
                               * * * * * *
                           * * * * * * *


     So she went on, wondering more and more at every step, as  everything
turned into a tree the moment she came up to it, and  she  quite  expected
the egg to do the same.



CHAPTER VI                       Humpty Dumpty



     However, the egg only got larger and larger, and more and more human:
when she had come within a few yards of it, she saw that it had eyes and a
nose and mouth; and when she had come close to it, she saw clearly that it
was HUMPTY DUMPTY himself. - It can't be  anybody  else!  -  she  said  to
herself. - I'm as certain of it, as if his name were written all over  his
face.
     It might have been written a hundred times, easily, on that  enormous
face. Humpty Dumpty was sitting with his legs crossed, like a Turk, on the
top of a high wall - such a narrow one that Alice quite  wondered  how  he
could keep his balance - and, as his  eyes  were  steadily  fixed  in  the
opposite direction, and he didn't  take  the  least  notice  of  her,  she
thought he must be a stuffed figure after all.
     - And how exactly like an egg he is! - she said aloud, standing  with
her hands ready to catch him, for she was every moment  expecting  him  to
fall.
     - It's VERY provoking, - Humpty Dumpty said  after  a  long  silence,
looking away from Alice as he spoke, - to be called an egg -VERY!
     - I said you LOOKED like an egg, Sir, - Alice gently explained. - And
some eggs are very pretty, you know, she added, hoping to turn her  remark
into a sort of a compliment.
     - Some people, - said Humpty Dumpty, looking away from her as  usual,
- have no more sense than a baby!
     Alice didn't know what  to  say  to  this:  it  wasn't  at  all  like
conversation, she thought, as he never said anything to HER; in fact,  his
last remark was evidently addressed to a tree - so she  stood  and  softly
repeated to herself:

             - Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall:
            Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
            All the King's horses and all the King's men
            Couldn't put Humpty Dumpty in his place again.

     - That last line is much too long for the poetry, - she added, almost
out loud, forgetting that Humpty Dumpty would hear her.
     - Don't stand there chattering to yourself like that, - Humpty Dumpty
said, looking at her for the first time, - but tell me your name and  your
business.
     - My NAME is Alice, but
     - It's a stupid name enough! - Humpty Dumpty interrupted impatiently.
- What does it mean?
     - MUST a name mean something? - Alice asked doubtfully.
     - Of course it must, - Humpty Dumpty said with a  sort  laugh:  -  MY
name means the shape I am - and a good handsome shape it is, too.  With  a
name like your, you might be any shape, almost.
     - Why do you sit out here all alone? - said  Alice,  not  wishing  to
begin an argument.
     - Why, because there's nobody with me! - cried Humpty Dumpty.  -  Did
you think I didn't know the answer to THAT? Ask another.
     - Don't you think you'd be safer down on the ground? - Alice went on,
not with any idea of making another riddle, but simply in her good-natured
anxiety for the queer creature. - That wall is so VERY narrow!
     - What tremendously easy riddles you ask!  -  Humpty  Dumpty  growled
out. - Of course I don't think so! Why, if  ever  I  DID  fall  off  which
there's no chance of - but IF I did - Here he pursed his lips  and  looked
so solemn and grand that Alice could hardly help  laughing.  -  IF  I  did
fall, - he went on, - THE KING HAS PROMISED ME WITH HIS VERY OWN  MOUTH  -
to - to
     - To send all his horses and all his men, - Alice interrupted, rather
unwisely.
     - Now I declare that's too bad! - Humpty Dumpty cried, breaking  into
a sudden passion. - You've been listening at doors - and  behind  trees  -
and sown chimneys - or you couldn't have known it!
     - I haven't, indeed! - Alice said very gently. - It's in a book.
     - Ah, well! They may write such things in a  BOOK,  -  Humpty  Dumpty
said in a calmer tone. - That's what you call a History of  England,  that
is. Now, take a good look at me! I'm one that has spoken to  a  King,  _I_
am: mayhap you'll never see such another: and to show you I'm  not  proud,
you may shake hands with me! - And he grinned almost from ear to  ear,  as
he leant forwards (and as nearly as possible fell of the wall in doing so)
and offered Alice his hand. She watched him a little anxiously as she took
it. - If he smiled much more, the ends of his mouth might meet  behind,  -
she thought: - and then I don't know what would happen to  his  head!  I'm
afraid it would come off!
     - Yes, all his horses and all his men, - Humpty  Dumpty  went  on.  -
They'd  pick  me  up  again  in  a  minute,  THEY  would!  However,   this
conversation is going on a little too fast: let's  go  back  to  the  last
remark but one.
     - I'm afraid I can't quite remember it, - Alice said very politely.
     - In that case we start fresh, - said Humpty Dumpty, -  and  it's  my
turn to choose a subject - ( - He talks about it just as if it was a game!
- thought Alice.) - So here's a question for you. How old did you say  you
were?
     Alice made a short calculation,  and  said  -  Seven  years  and  six
months.
     - Wrong! - Humpty Dumpty exclaimed triumphantly. - You never  said  a
word like it!
     - I though you meant "How old ARE you?" - Alice explained.
     - If I'd meant that, I'd have said it, - said  Humpty  Dumpty.  Alice
didn't want to begin another argument, so she said nothing. -
Seven years and six months! - Humpty Dumpty repeated thoughtfully.
- An uncomfortable sort of age. Now if you'd asked MY advice, I'd  have
said "Leave off at seven"  -  but it's too late now.
     - I never ask advice about growing, - Alice said Indignantly.
     - Too proud? - the other inquired. Alice felt even more indignant  at
this suggestion. - I mean, - she
said, - that one can't help growing older.
     - ONE can't, perhaps, - said Humpty  Dumpty,  -  but  TWO  can.  With
proper assistance, you might have left off at seven.
     - What a beautiful belt you've got on!  -  Alice  suddenly  remarked.
(They had had quite enough of the subject of age, she thought: and if they
really were to take turns in choosing subjects, it was her turn now.) - At
least, - she corrected herself on second thoughts, - a beautiful cravat, I
should have said - no, a belt, I mean - I beg your pardon! - she added  in
dismay, for Humpty Dumpty looked thoroughly offended,  and  she  began  to
wish she hadn't chosen that subject. - If I only knew, -  the  thought  to
herself, 'which was neck and which was waist!
     Evidently Humpty Dumpty was very angry, though he said nothing for  a
minute or two. When he DID speak again, it was in a deep growl.
     - It is a - MOST - PROVOKING - thing, - he said at  last,  -  when  a
person doesn't know a cravat from a belt!
     - I know it's very ignorant of me, - Alice said, in so humble a  tone
that Humpty Dumpty relented.
     - It's a cravat, child, and a beautiful  one,  as  you  say.  It's  a
present from the White King and Queen. There now!
     - Is it really? - said Alice, quite pleased  to  find  that  she  HAD
chosen a good subject, after all.
     - They gave it me, - Humpty  Dumpty  continued  thoughtfully,  as  he
crossed one knee over the other and clasped his hands  round  it,  -  they
gave it me - for an un-birthday present.
     - I beg your pardon? - Alice said with a puzzled air.
     - I'm not offended, - said Humpty Dumpty.
     - I mean, what IS and un-birthday present?
     - A present given when it  isn't  your  birthday,  of  course.  Alice
considered a little. - I like birthday presents best, - she
said at last.
     - You don't know what you're talking about! - cried Humpty Dumpty.  -
How many days are there in a year?
     - Three hundred and sixty-five, - said Alice.
     - And how many birthdays have you?
     - One.
     - And if you  take  one  from  three  hundred  and  sixty-five,  what
remains?
     - Three hundred and  sixty-four,  of  course.  Humpty  Dumpty  looked
doubtful. - I'd rather see that done on paper,
he said.
     Alice couldn't help smiling as she took out her memorandum- book, and
worked the sum for him:

                               365
                                 1
                               ---
                               364
                               ---

     Humpty Dumpty took the book, and looked at it carefully. - That seems
to be done right - he began.
     - You're holding it upside down! - Alice interrupted.
     - To be sure I was! - Humpty Dumpty said  gaily,  as  she  turned  it
round for him. - I thought it looked a little queer. As I was saying, that
SEEMS to be done right - though I haven't time to look it over  thoroughly
just now - and that shows that there are three hundred and sixty-four days
when you might get un-birthday presents
     - Certainly, - said Alice.
     - And only ONE for birthday presents, you  know.  There's  glory  for
you!
     - I don't know what you mean by "glory," - Alice said. Humpty  Dumpty
smiled contemptuously. - Of course you don't - till I
tell you. I meant "there's a nice knock-down argument for you!"
     - But "glory" doesn't mean "a  nice  knock-down  argument,"  -  Alice
objected.
     - When _I_ use a word, - Humpty Dumpty  said  in  rather  a  scornful
tone, - it means just what I choose it to mean - neither more nor less.
     - The question is, - said Alice, - whether you CAN make words mean so
many different things.
     - The question is, - said Humpty Dumpty, -  which  is  to  be  master
that's all.
     Alice was too much puzzled to say anything, so after a minute  Humpty
Dumpty began again. - They've a temper, some of them -particularly  verbs,
they're the proudest - adjectives you can do anything with, but not  verbs
- however, _I_ can manage the whole of them! Impenetrability! That's  what
_I_ say!
     - Would you tell me, please, - said Alice - what that means?
     - Now you talk like a reasonable child, - said Humpty Dumpty, looking
very much pleased. - I meant by "impenetrability" that we've had enough of
that subject, and it would be just as well if you'd mention what you  mean
to do next, as I suppose you don't mean to stop here all the rest of  your
life.
     - That's a great deal to make one  word  mean,  -  Alice  said  in  a
thoughtful tone.
     - When I make a word do a lot  of  work  like  that,  -  said  Humpty
Dumpty, - I always pay it extra.
     - Oh! - said Alice. She was  too  much  puzzled  to  make  any  other
remark.
     - Ah, you should see - em come round me of a Saturday night, - Humpty
Dumpty went on, wagging his head gravely from side to side: - for  to  get
their wages, you know.
     (Alice didn't venture to ask what he paid them with; and so you see I
can't tell YOU.)
     - You seem very clever at explaining words,  Sir,  -  said  Alice.  -
Would you kindly tell me the meaning of the poem called "Jabberwocky"?
     - Let's hear it, - said Humpty Dumpty. - I can explain all the  poems
that were ever invented - and a good many that haven't been invented  just
yet.
     This sounded very hopeful, so Alice repeated the first verse:

             - Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
              Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
            All mimsy were the borogoves,
              And the mome raths outgrabe.

     - That's enough to begin with, - Humpty Dumpty interrupted:  -  there
are plenty of hard words  there.  "BRILLIG"  means  four  o'clock  in  the
afternoon - the time when you begin BROILING things for dinner.
     - That'll do very well, - said Alice: and "SLITHY"?
     - Well, "SLITHY" means "lithe and slimy."  "Lithe"  is  the  same  as
"active." You see it's like a portmanteau - there are two meanings  packed
up into one word.
     - I see it now,  -  Alice  remarked  thoughtfully:  -  and  what  are
"TOVES"?
     - Well, "TOVES - are something like badgers - they're something  like
lizards - and they're something like corkscrews.
     - They must be very curious looking creatures.
     - They are that, - said Humpty Dumpty: - also they make  their  nests
under sun-dials - also they live on cheese.
     - Andy what's the "GYRE" and to "GIMBLE"?
     - To "GYRE" is to go round and round like a gyroscope. To "GIMBLE" is
to make holes like a gimblet.
     - And "THE WABE" is the grass-plot round a sun-dial, I suppose?  said
Alice, surprised at her own ingenuity.
     - Of course it is. It's called "WABE," you know, because  it  goes  a
long way before it, and a long way behind it
     - And a long way beyond it on each side, - Alice added.
     - Exactly so. Well, then, "MIMSY" is "flimsy and miserable"  (there's
another portmanteau for you). And a "BOROGOVE" is a  thing  shabby-looking
bird with its feathers sticking out all round something like a live mop.
     - And then "MOME RATHS"? - said Alice. - I'm afraid I'm giving you  a
great deal of trouble.
     - Well, a "RATH" is a sort of green pig: but "MOME" I'm  not  certain
about. I think it's short for "from home" - meaning that they'd lost their
way, you know.
     - And what does "OUTGRABE" mean?
     - Well, "OUTGRIBING" is something between  bellowing  and  whistling,
with a kind of sneeze in the middle: however, you'll hear it done, maybe -
down in the wood yonder - and when you've once heard it  you'll  be  QUITE
content. Who's been repeating all that hard stuff to you?
     - I read it in a book, - said Alice. - But I had some poetry repeated
to me, much easier than that, by - Tweedledee, I think it was.
     - As to poetry, you know, - said Humpty Dumpty, stretching out one of
his great hands, - _I_ can repeat poetry as well  as  other  folk,  if  it
comes to that
     - Oh, it needn't come to that! - Alice hastily said, hoping  to  keep
him from beginning.
     - The piece I'm going to repeat, - he went on  without  noticing  her
remark, - was written entirely for your amusement.
     Alice felt that in that case she really OUGHT to listen to it, so she
sat down, and said - Thank you - rather sadly.

             - In winter, when the fields are white,
            I sing this song for your delight

     only I don't sing it, - he added, as an  explanation.  -  I  see  you
don't, - said Alice. - If you can SEE whether I'm singing or  not,  you're
sharper eyes
than most. - Humpty Dumpty remarked severely. Alice was silent.

             - In spring, when woods are getting green,
            I'll try and tell you what I mean.

     - Thank you very much, - said Alice.

             - In summer, when the days are long,
            Perhaps you'll understand the song:
            In autumn, when the leaves are brown,
            Take pen and ink, and write it down.

     - I will, if I can remember it so long, - said Alice.
     - You needn't go on making remarks like that, - Humpty Dumpty said: -
they're not sensible, and they put me out.

             - I sent a message to the fish:
            I told them "This is what I wish."

            The little fishes of the sea,
            They sent an answer back to me.

            The little fishes - answer was
            "We cannot do it, Sir, because  -  "

     - I'm afraid I don't quite understand, - said Alice.
     - It gets easier further on, - Humpty Dumpty replied.

             - I sent to them again to say
            "It will be better to obey."

            The fishes answered with a grin,
            "Why, what a temper you are in!"

            I told them once, I told them twice:
            They would not listen to advice.

            I took a kettle large and new,
            Fit for the deed I had to do.

            My heart went hop, my heart went thump;
            I filled the kettle at the pump.

            Then some one came to me and said,
            "The little fishes are in bed."

            I said to him, I said it plain,
            "Then you must wake them up again."

            I said it very loud and clear;
            I went and shouted in his ear.

     Humpty Dumpty raised his voice almost to a scream as he repeated this
verse, and Alice thought with a  shudder,  -  I  wouldn't  have  been  the
messenger for ANYTHING!

             - But he was very stiff and proud;
            He said "You needn't shout so loud!"

            And he was very proud and stiff;
            He said "I'd go and wake them, if  -  "

            I took a corkscrew from the shelf:
            I went to wake them up myself.

            And when I found the door was locked,
            I pulled and pushed and knocked.

            And when I found the door was shut,
            I tried to turn the handle, but

     There was a long pause. - Is that  all?  -  Alice  timidly  asked.  -
That's all, - said Humpty Dumpty. Good-bye.
     This was rather sudden, Alice thought: but, after such a VERY  strong
hint that she ought to be going, she felt that it would hardly be civil to
stay. So she got up, and held out her  hand.  -  Good-bye,  till  we  meet
again! - she said as cheerfully as she could.
     - I shouldn't know you again if we DID meet, - Humpty Dumpty  replied
in a discontented tone, giving her one of his fingers to shake;  -  you're
so exactly like other people.
     - The face is what one goes by, generally,  -  Alice  remarked  in  a
thoughtful tone.
     - That - s just what I complain of, - said Humpty Dumpty. - Your face
is that same as everybody has - the two eyes, so - (marking  their  places
in the air with this thumb) - nose in the middle, mouth under. It's always
the same. Now if you had the two eyes on the same side of  the  nose,  for
instance - or the mouth at the top - that would be SOME help.
     - It wouldn't look nice, - Alice objected.  But  Humpty  Dumpty  only
shut his eyes and said - Wait till you've tried.
     Alice waited a minute to see if he would speak again, but as he never
opened his eyes or took any further notice of her, she said - Good-bye!  -
once more, and, getting no answer to this, she quietly  walked  away:  but
she  couldn't  help  saying  to  herself  as  she  went,  -  Of  all   the
unsatisfactory - (she repeated this aloud, as it was a great comfort  have
such a long word to say) - of all the unsatisfactory people I EVER  met  -
She never finished the sentence, for at this moment a  heavy  crash  shook
the forest from end to end.



CHAPTER VII                      The Lion and the Unicorn



     The next moment soldiers cam running through the wood,  at  first  in
twos and threes, then ten or twenty together, and at last in  such  crowds
that they seemed to fill the whole forest. Alice got behind  a  tree,  for
fear of being run over, and watched them go by.
     She thought that in all her life  she  had  never  seen  soldiers  so
uncertain on their feet: they  were  always  tripping  over  something  or
other, and whenever one went down, several more always fell over  him,  so
that the ground was soon covered with little heaps of men.
     Then came the horses. Having four feet, these managed  rather  better
than the foot-soldiers: but even THEY stumbled now and then; and it seemed
to be a regular rule that, whenever a horse stumbled the  rider  fell  off
instantly. The confusion got worse every moment, and Alice was  very  glad
to get out of the wood into an open place, where she found the White  King
seated on the ground, busily writing in his memorandum-book.
     - I've sent them all! - the Kind cried  in  a  tone  of  delight,  on
seeing Alice. - Did you happen to meet any soldiers, my dear, as you  came
through the wood?
     - Yes, I did, - said Alice: several thousand, I should think.
     - Four thousand two hundred and seven, that's the exact number, - the
King said, referring to his book. - I couldn't send all  the  horses,  you
know, because two of them are wanted in the game. And I haven't  sent  the
two Messengers, either. They're both gone to the town. Just look along the
road, and tell me if you can see either of them.
     - I see nobody on the road, - said Alice.
     - I only wish _I_ had such eyes, - the King  remarked  in  a  fretful
tone. - To be able to see Nobody! And at that distance, too! Why, it's  as
much as _I_ can do to see real people, by this light!
     All this was lost on Alice, who was still looking intently along  the
road, shading her eyes with  one  hand.  -  I  see  somebody  now!  -  she
exclaimed at last. - But he's  coming  very  slowly  -  and  what  curious
attitudes he goes into! - (For the messenger kept skipping  up  and  down,
and wriggling like an eel, as he came along, with his great  hands  spread
out like fans on each side.)
     - Not at all, - said the King. - He's an Anglo-Saxon Messenger -  and
those are Anglo-Saxon attitudes. He only does them when  he's  happy.  His
name ia Haigha. - (He pronounced it so as to rhyme with - mayor.
     - I love my love with an  H,  -  Alice  couldn't  help  beginning,  -
because he is Happy. I hate him with an H, because he is  Hideous.  I  fed
him with - with - with Ham-sandwiches and Hay. His name is Haigha, and  he
lives
     - He lives on the Hill, - the King remarked simply, without the least
idea that he was joining in the game, while Alice was still hesitating for
the name of a town beginning with H. - The other Messenger's called Hatta.
I must have TWO, you know - to come and go. Once to come, and one to go.
     - I beg your pardon? - said Alice.
     - It isn't respectable to beg, - said the King.
     - I only meant that I didn't understand, - said Alice. - Why  one  to
come and one to go?
     - Don't I tell you? - the King repeated impatiently. -  I  must  have
Two - to fetch and carry. One to fetch, and one to carry.
     At this moment the Messenger arrived: he was  far  too  much  out  of
breath to say a word, and could only wave his hands about,  and  make  the
most fearful faces at the poor King.
     - This young lady loves you with an H, - the King  said,  introducing
Alice in the hope of turning off the Messenger's attention from himself  -
but it was no use - the Anglo-Saxon attitudes only got more  extraordinary
every moment, while the great eyes rolled wildly from side to side.
     - You alarm me! - said the King. - I feel  faint  -  Give  me  a  ham
sandwich!
     On which the Messenger, to Alice's great amusement, opened a bag that
hung round his neck, and handed a sandwich to the King,  who  devoured  it
greedily.
     - Another sandwich! - said the King.
     - There's nothing but hay left now, -  the  Messenger  said,  peeping
into the bag.
     - Hay, then, - the King murmured in a faint whisper. Alice  was  glad
to see that it revived him a good deal. - There's
nothing like eating hay when you're faint, - he remarked  to  her,  as  he
munched away.
     - I should think throwing cold water over you would be better,  Alice
suggested: - or some sal-volatile.
     - I didn't say there was nothing BETTER, - the King replied. - I said
there was nothing LIKE it. - Which alice did not venture to deny.
     - Who did you pass on the road? - the King went on, holding  out  his
hand to the Messenger for some more hay.
     - Nobody, - said the Messenger.
     - Quite right, - said the King: - this young lady saw him too. So  of
course Nobody walks slower than you.
     - I do my best, - the Messenger said in a  sulky  tone.  -  I'm  sure
nobody walks much faster than I do!
     - He can't do that, - said the King, - or else he'd  have  been  here
first. However, now you've  got  your  breath,  you  may  tell  us  what's
happened in the town.
     - I'll whisper it, - said the Messenger, putting  his  hands  to  his
mouth in the shape of a trumpet, and stooping so as to get  close  to  the
King's ear. Alice was sorry for this, as she wanted to hear the news  too.
However, instead of whispering, he simply shouted at the top of his  voice
- They're at it again!
     - Do you call THAT a whisper? - cried the poor King, jumping  up  and
shaking himself. - If you do such a thing again, I'll have  you  buttered!
It went through and through my head like an earthquake!
     - It would have to be a very tiny earthquake! - thought Alice. -  Who
are at it again? - she ventured to ask.
     - Why the Lion and the Unicorn, of course, - said the King.
     - Fighting for the crown?
     - Yes, to be sure, - said the King: - and the best of  the  joke  is,
that it's MY crown all the while! Let's run  and  see  them.  -  And  they
trotted off, Alice repeating to herself, as she ran, the words of the  old
song:

     - The Lion and the Unicorn were fighting for the crown:
    The Lion beat the Unicorn all round the town.
    Some gave them white bread, some gave them brown;
    Some gave them plum-cake and drummed them out of town.

     - Does - the one - that wins - get the crown? - she asked, as well as
she could, for the run was putting her quite out of breath.
     - Dear me, no! - said the King. - What an idea!
     - Would you - be good enough, - Alice panted  out,  after  running  a
little further, - to stop a minute - just to get - one's breath again?
     - I'm GOOD enough, - the King said, - only I'm not strong enough. You
see, a minute goes by so fearfully quick. You might as well try to stop  a
Bandersnatch!
     Alice had no more breath for talking, so the trotted on  in  silence,
till they came in sight of a great crowd, in the middle of which the  Lion
and Unicorn were fighting. They were in such a  cloud  of  dust,  that  at
first Alice could not make out which was which: but she  soon  managed  to
distinguish the Unicorn by his horn.
     They placed themselves close to where Hatta, the other messenger, was
standing watching the fight, with a cup of tea in one hand and a piece  of
bread-and-butter in the other.
     - He's only just out of prison, and he hadn't finished his  tea  when
he was sent in, - Haigha whispered to Alice: - and  they  only  give  them
oyster-shells in there - so you see he's very hungry and thirsty. How  are
you, dear child? - he  went  on,  putting  his  arm  affectionately  round
Hatta's neck.
     Hatta looked round and nodded, and went on with his bread and butter.
- Were you happy in prison, dear child? - said Haigha.
     Hatta looked round once more, and this time a tear  or  two  trickled
down his cheek: but not a word would he say.
     - Speak, can't you!  -  Haigha  cried  impatiently.  But  Hatta  only
munched away, and drank some more tea.
     - Speak, won't you! - cried the King. 'How are they getting  on  with
the fight?
     Hatta made a  desperate  effort,  and  swallowed  a  large  piece  of
bread-and-butter. - They're getting on very well, - he said in  a  choking
voice: - each of them has been down about eighty-seven times.
     - Then I suppose they'll soon bring the white bread  and  the  brown?
Alice ventured to remark.
     - It's waiting for 'em now, - said Hatta: - this is a bit  of  it  as
I'm eating.
     There was a pause in the fight  just  then,  and  the  Lion  and  the
Unicorn sat down, panting, while the King called out - Ten minutes allowed
for refreshments! - Haigha and Hatta set to work at once,  carrying  rough
trays of white and brown bread. Alice took a piece to taste,  but  it  was
VERY dry.
     - I don't think they'll fight any more to-day, -  the  King  said  to
Hatta: - go and order the drums to begin. - And Hatta went  bounding  away
like a grasshopper.
     For a minute or two Alice stood silent, watching  him.  Suddenly  she
brightened up. - Look, look! - she cried, pointing eagerly.  "There's  the
White Queen running across the country! She came flying out  of  the  wood
over yonder - How fast those Queens CAN run!
     - There's some enemy after, her no doubt, - the  King  said,  without
even looking round. - That wood's full of them.
     - But aren't you going to run and help her? - Alice asked, very  much
surprised at his taking it so quietly.
     - No use, no use! - said the King. - She runs so fearfully quick. You
might as well try to catch a Bandersnatch!  But  I'll  make  a  memorandum
about her, if you like - She's a dear good creature, - he repeated  softly
to himself, as he opened his memorandum-book. - Do  you  spell  "creature"
with a double "e"?
     At this moment the Unicorn sauntered by them, with his hands  in  his
pockets. - I had the best of it this time? - he said  to  the  King,  just
glancing at him as he passed.
     - A little - a little, - the King replied, rather  nervously.  -  You
shouldn't have run him through with your horn, you know.
     - It didn't hurt him, - the Unicorn said carelessly, and he was going
on, when his eye happened to fall  upon  Alice:  he  turned  round  rather
instantly, and stood for some time looking at  her  with  an  air  of  the
deepest disgust.
     - What - is - this? - he said at last.
     - This is a child! - Haigha replied eagerly, coming in front of Alice
to introduce her, and spreading out both  his  hands  towards  her  in  an
Anglo-Saxon attitude. - We only found it to-day. It's as  large  as  life,
and twice as natural!
     - I always thought they were fabulous monsters! - said the Unicorn. -
Is at alive?
     - It can talk, - said Haigha, solemnly. The Unicorn  looked  dreamily
at Alice, and said - Talk, child. Alice could not help her lips curing  up
into a smile as she began: -
Do you know, I always thought Unicorns  were  fabulous  monsters,  too!  I
never saw one alive before!
     - Well, now that we HAVE seen each other, - said the  Unicorn,  -  if
you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you. Is that a bargain?
     - Yes, if you like, - said Alice.
     - Come, fetch out the plum-cake, old man!  -  the  Unicorn  went  on,
turning from her to the King. - None of your brown bread for me!
     - Certainly - certainly! - the King muttered, and beckoned to Haigha.
- Open the bag! - he whispered. - Quick! Not that one -that's full of hay!
Haigha took a large cake out of the bag, and gave it  to  Alice  to  hold,
while he got out a dish and carving-knife. How they all  came  out  of  it
Alice couldn't guess. It was just like a conjuring-trick, she thought.
     The Lion had joined them while this was  going  on:  he  looked  very
tired and sleepy, and his eyes were half shut. - What's this! -  he  said,
blinking lazily at Alice, and speaking in a deep hollow tone that  sounded
like the tolling of a great bell.
     - Ah, what IS it, now? - the Unicorn cried eagerly.  -  You'll  never
guess! _I_ couldn't.
     The Lion looked at Alice wearily. - Are you  animal  -  vegetable  or
mineral? - he said, yawning at every other word.
     - It's a fabulous monster! - the  Unicorn  cried  out,  before  Alice
could reply.
     - Then hand round the plum-cake, Monster, - the Lion said, lying down
and putting his chin on this paws. - And sit down, both of you, - (to  the
King and the Unicorn): - fair play with the cake, you know!
     The King was evidently very  uncomfortable  at  laving  to  sit  down
between the two great creatures; but there was no other place for him.
     - What a fight we might have for the crown, NOW! - the Unicorn  said,
looking slyly up at the crown, which the poor King was nearly shaking  off
his head, he trembled so much.
     - I should win easy, - said the Lion.
     - I'm not so sure of that, - said the Unicorn.
     - Why, I beat you all round the town, you chicken! - the Lion replied
angrily, half getting up as he spoke.
     Here the King interrupted, to prevent the quarrel going  on:  he  was
very nervous, and his voice quite quivered. - All round  the  town?  -  he
said. - That's a good long way. Did you go  by  the  old  bridge,  or  the
market-place? You get the best view by the old bridge.
     - I'm sure I don't know, - the Lion growled out as he lay down again.
- There was too much dust to see anything. What a  time  the  Monster  is,
cutting up that cake!
     Alice had seated herself on the bank of  a  little  brook,  with  the
great dish on her knees, and was sawing away diligently with the knife.  -
It's very provoking! - she said, in reply to the  Lion  (she  was  getting
quite used to being called - the Monster').  -  I've  cut  several  slices
already, but they always join on again!
     - You don't know how to manage Looking-glass  cakes,  -  the  Unicorn
remarked. - Hand it round first, and cut it afterwards.
     This sounded nonsense, but Alice very obediently got up, and  carried
the dish round, and the cake divided itself into three pieces as  she  did
so. - NOW cut it up, - said the Lion, as she returned to  her  place  with
the empty dish.
     - I say, this isn't fair! - cried the Unicorn, as Alice sat with  the
knife in her hand, very much puzzled how to begin. - The Monster has given
the Lion twice as much as me!
     - She's kept none for herself, anyhow, - said the Lion. - Do you like
plum-cake, Monster?
     But before Alice could answer him, the drums began.
     Where the noise came from, she couldn't make out: the air seemed full
of it, and it rang through and  through  her  head  till  she  felt  quite
deafened. She started to her feet and sprang across the  little  brook  in
her terror,

                           * * * * * * *
                               * * * * * *
                           * * * * * * *

     and had just time to see the Lion and the Unicorn rise to their feet,
with angry looks at being interrupted in their feast, before  she  dropped
to her knees, and put her hands over her hears, vainly trying to shut  out
the dreadful uproar.
     - If THAT doesn't "drum them out of town," - she thought to  herself,
'nothing ever will!



CHAPTER VIII                     - It's my own Invention



     After a while the noise seemed gradually to die away,  till  all  was
dead silence, and Alice lifted up her head in some alarm. There was no one
to be seen, and her first thought was that she  must  have  been  dreaming
about the Lion and the Unicorn and those still lying at her feet, on which
she had tried to cut the plumcake, - So I wasn't dreaming,  after  all,  -
she said to herself, - unless - unless we're all part of the  same  dream.
Only I do hope it's MY dream,  and  not  the  Red  King's!  I  don't  like
belonging to another person's dream, - she went on in a rather complaining
tone: - I've a great mind to go and wake him, and see what happens!
     At this moment her thoughts were interrupted by a loud shouting of  -
Ahoy! Ahoy! Check! and a Knight dressed in crimson armour, came  galloping
down upon her, brandishing a great club. Just as he reached her, the horse
stopped suddenly: - You're my prisoner! - the Knight cried, as he  tumbled
off his horse.
     Startled as she was, Alice was  more  frightened  for  him  than  for
herself at the moment, and watched him with some  anxiety  as  he  mounted
again. As soon as he was comfortably in the saddle, he began once  more  -
You're my - but here another voice broke in - Ahoy!  Ahoy!  Check!  -  and
Alice looked round in some surprise for the new enemy.
     This time it was a White Knight. He drew  up  at  Alice's  side,  and
tumbled off his horse just as the Red Knight had  done:  then  he  got  on
again, and the two Knights sat and looked at  each  other  for  some  time
without speaking. Alice looked from one to the other in some bewilderment.
- She's MY prisoner, you know! - the Red Knight said at last.
     - Yes, but then _I_ came and rescued her! - the White Knight replied.
     - Well, we must fight for her, then, - said the  Red  Knight,  as  he
took up his helmet (which hung from the  saddle,  and  was  something  the
shape of a horse's head, and put it on.
     - You will observe the Rules of Battle, of course? - the White Knight
remarked, putting on his helmet too.
     - I always do, - said the Red Knight, and they began banging away  at
each other with such fury that Alice got behind a tree to be  out  of  the
way of the blows.
     - I wonder, now, what the Rules of Battle are, - she said to herself,
as she watched the fight, timidly peeping out from her hiding-place: - one
Rule seems to be, that if one Knight hits the other, he knocks him off his
horse, and if he misses, he tumbles off himself - and another  Rule  seems
to be that they hold their clubs with their arms, as if  they  were  Punch
and Judy - What a noise they make when they tumble! Just like a whole  set
of fireirons falling into the fender! And how quiet the horses  are!  They
let them get on and off them just as if they were tables!
     Another Rule of Battle, that Alice had not noticed, seemed to be that
they always fell on their heads, and the  battle  ended  with  their  both
falling off in this way, side by side: when they got up again, they  shook
hands, and then the Red Knight mounted and galloped off.
     - It was a glorious victory, wasn't it? - said the White  Knight,  as
he came up panting.
     - I don't know, - Alice  said  doubtfully.  -  I  don't  want  to  be
anybody's prisoner. I want to be a Queen.
     - So you will, when you've crossed the next brook, - said  the  White
Knight. - I'll see you safe to the end of the wood - and then  I  must  go
back, you know. That's the end of my move.
     - Thank you very much, - said Alice. - May I help you off  with  your
helmet? - It was evidently more than he could manage by himself;  however,
she managed to shake him out of it at last.
     - Now one can breathe more easily, - said the  Knight,  putting  back
his shaggy hair with both hands, and turning his  gentle  face  and  large
mild eyes to Alice. She thought she had never seen such a  strange-looking
soldier in all her life.
     He was dressed in tin armour, which seemed to fit him very badly, and
he had a queer-shaped  little  deal  box  fastened  across  his  shoulder,
upside-down, and with the lid hanging open. Alice looked at it with  great
curiosity.
     - I see you're admiring my  little  box.  -  the  Knight  said  in  a
friendly tone. - It's my own invention - to keep  clothes  and  sandwiches
in. You see I carry it upside-down, so that the rain can't get in.
     - But the things can get OUT, - Alice gently remarked. - Do you  know
the lid's open?
     - I didn't know it, - the Knight said, a shade  of  vexation  passing
over his face. - Then all the things much have fallen out! And the box  is
no use without them. - He unfastened it as he spoke, and was just going to
throw it into the bushes, when a sudden though seemed to strike  him,  and
he hung it carefully on a tree. - Can you guess why I did that? - he  said
to Alice.
     Alice shook her head. - In hopes some bees my make a  nest  in  it  -
then I should get the
honey.
     - But you've got a bee-hive - or something like one - fastened to the
saddle, - said Alice.
     - Yes, it's a very good bee-hive, - the Knight said in a discontented
tone, - one of the best kind. But not a single bee has come near  it  yet.
And the other thing is a mouse-trap. I suppose the mice keep the bees  out
- or the bees keep the mice out, I don't know which.
     - I was wondering what the mouse-trap was for, -  said  Alice.  -  It
isn't very likely there would be any mice on the horse's back.
     - Not very likely, perhaps, - said the Knight: - but if they DO come,
I don't choose to have them running all about.
     - You see, - he went on after a pause, - it's as well to be  provided
for EVERYTHING. That's the reason the horse has all  those  anklets  round
his feet.
     - But what are they for? - Alice asked in a tone of great curiosity.
     - To guard against the bites of sharks, - the Knight replied. -  It's
an invention of my own. And now help me on. I'll go with you to the end of
the wood - What's the dish for?
     - It's meant for plum-cake, - said Alice.
     - We'd better take it with us, the Knight said. - It'll some in handy
if we find any plum-cake. Help me to get it into this bag.
     This took a very long time to manage, though Alice held the bag  open
very carefully, because the Knight was so VERY awkward in putting  in  the
dish: the first two or three times  that  he  tried  he  fell  in  himself
instead. - It's rather a tight fit, you see, - he said, as they got it  in
a last; - There are so many candlesticks in the bag. - And he hung  it  to
the saddle,  which  was  already  loaded  with  bunches  of  carrots,  and
fire-irons, and many other things.
     - I hope you've got your hair well fastened on? -  he  continued,  as
they set off.
     - Only in the usual way, - alice said, smiling.
     - That's hardly enough, - he said, anxiously. - You see the  wind  is
so VERY strong here. It's as strong as soup.
     - Have you invented a plan for keeping the hair from being blown off?
- Alice enquired.
     - Not yet, - said the Knight. - But I've got a plan  for  keeping  it
from FALLING off.
     - I should like to hear it, very much.
     - First you take an upright stick, - said the Knight. - Then you make
your hair creep up it, like a fruit-tree. Now the reason hair falls off is
because it hangs DOWN - things never fall UPWARDS, you know. It's  a  plan
of my own invention. You may try it if you like.
     It didn't sound a comfortable plan, Alice  thought,  and  for  a  few
minutes she walked on in silence, puzzling over the idea,  and  every  now
and then stopping to help the poor Knight, who certainly was  NOT  a  good
rider.
     Whenever the horse stopped (which it did very often), he fell off  in
front; and whenever it went  on  again  (which  it  generally  did  rather
suddenly), he fell off behind. Otherwise he kept on  pretty  well,  except
that he had a habit of now and  then  falling  off  sideways;  and  as  he
generally did this on the side on which Alice was walking, she soon  found
that it was the best plan not to walk QUITE close to the horse.
     - I'm afraid you've not had much practice in riding, -  she  ventured
to say, as she was helping him up from his fifth tumble.
     The Knight looked very much surprised, and a little offended  at  the
remark. - What makes you say that? - he asked, as he scrambled  back  into
the saddle, keeping hold of Alice's hair with one hand,  to  save  himself
from falling over on the other side.
     - Because people don't fall off quite so often, when they've had much
practice.
     - I've had plenty of practice, - the  Knight  said  very  gravely:  -
plenty of practice!
     Alice could think of nothing better to say than - Indeed? -  but  she
said it as heartily as she could. They went on a  little  way  in  silence
after this, the Knight with his eyes shut, muttering to himself, and Alice
watching anxiously for the next tumble.
     - The great art of riding, - the Knight  suddenly  began  in  a  loud
voice, waving his right arm as he spoke, - is to keep - Here the  sentence
ended as suddenly as it had begun, as the Knight fell heavily on  the  top
of his head exactly in the path were Alice  was  walking.  She  was  quite
frightened this time, and said in an anxious tone, as she picked him up, -
I hope no bones are broken?
     - None to speak of, - the Knight said, as if he didn't mind  breaking
two or three of them. - The great art of riding, as I was saying, is -  to
keep your balance properly. Like this, you know
     He let go the bridle, and stretched out both his arms to  show  Alice
what he meant, and this time he fell flat on his  back,  right  under  the
horse's feet.
     - Plenty of practice? - he went on repeating, all the time that Alice
was getting him on his feet again. - Plenty of practice!
     - It's too ridiculous! - cried Alice, losing all  her  patience  this
time. - You ought to have a wooden horse on wheels, that you ought!
     - Does that kind go smoothly? - the Knight asked in a tone  of  great
interest, clasping his arms round the horse's neck as he  spoke,  just  in
time to save himself from tumbling off again.
     - Much more smoothly than a live horse, - Alice said, with  a  little
scream of laughter, in spite of all she could do to prevent it.
     - I'll get one, - the Knight said thoughtfully to himself. -  One  or
two - several.
     There was a short silence after this, and then  the  Knight  went  on
again. - I'm a great hand at inventing things. Now, I daresay you noticed,
that last time you picked me up, that I was looking rather thoughtful?
     - You WERE a little grave, - said Alice.
     - Well, just then I was inventing a new way of getting over a gate  -
would you like to hear it?
     - Very much indeed, - Alice said politely.
     - I'll tell you how I came to think of it, - said the Knight.  -  You
see, I said to myself, "The only difficulty is with the feet: the HEAD  is
high enough already." Now, first I put my head on the top of  the  gate  -
then I stand on my head - then the feet are high enough, you  see  -  then
I'm over, you see.
     - Yes, I suppose you'd be over when  that  was  done,  -  Alice  said
thoughtfully: - but don't you think it would be rather hard?
     - I haven't tried it yet, - the Knight said, gravely: -  so  I  can't
tell for certain - but I'm afraid it WOULD be a little hard.
     He looked so vexed at  the  idea,  that  Alice  changed  the  subject
hastily. - What a curious helmet you've got! - she said cheerfully.  -  Is
that your invention too?
     The Knight looked down proudly at his helmet,  which  hung  from  the
saddle. - Yes, - he said, - but I've invented a better one than that  like
a sugar loaf. When I used to wear it, if I fell of the  horse,  it  always
touched the ground directly. So I had a VERY little way to fall, you see -
But there WAS the danger of falling INTO it, to be sure. THat happened  to
me once - and the worst of it was, before I could get out again, the other
White Knight came and put it on. He thought it was his own helmet.
     The knight looked so solemn about it  that  Alice  did  not  dare  to
laugh. - I'm afraid you must have hurt him, -  she  said  in  a  trembling
voice, - being on the top of his head.
     - I had to kick him, of course, - the Knight said, very seriously.  -
And then he took the helmet off again - but it took hours and hours to get
me out. I was as fast as - as lightning, you know.
     - But that's a different kind of  fastness,  -  Alice  objected.  The
Knight shook his head. - It was all kinds of fastness with me, I
can assure you! - he said. He raised his hands in some  excitement  as  he
said this, and instantly rolled out of the saddle, and fell headlong  into
a deep ditch.
     Alice ran to the side of the ditch to look for him.  She  was  rather
startled by the fall, as for some time he had kept on very well,  and  she
was afraid that he really WAS hurt this time. However,  though  she  could
see nothing but the soles of his feet, she was much relieved to hear  that
he was talking on in his usual  tone.  -  All  kinds  of  fastness,  -  he
repeated: - but it was careless of him to put another man's  helmet  on  -
with the man in it, too.
     - How CAN you go on talking  so  quietly,  head  downwards?  -  Alice
asked, as she dragged him out by the feet, and laid him in a heap  on  the
bank.
     The Knight looked surprised at the question. - What  does  it  matter
where my body happens to be? - he said. - My mind goes on working all  the
same. In fact, the more head downwards I am, the more I keep inventing new
things.
     - Now the cleverest thing of the sort that I ever did, - he  went  on
after a pause, - was inventing a new pudding during the meatcourse.
     - In time to have it cooked for the next  course?  -  said  Alice.  -
Well, not the NEXT course, - the Knight said in a slow thoughtful tone:  -
no, certainly not the next COURSE.
     - Then it would have to be the next day. I suppose you wouldn't  have
two pudding-courses in one dinner?
     - Well, not the NEXT day, - the Knight repeated as before: - not  the
next DAY. In fact, - he went on, holding his  head  down,  and  his  voice
getting lower and lower, - I don't believe that pudding ever  WAS  cooked!
In fact, I don't believe that pudding ever WILL be cooked! And yet it  was
a very clever pudding to invent.
     - What did you mean it to be made of? - Alice asked, hoping to  cheer
him up, for the poor Knight seemed quite low-spirited about it.
     It began with blotting paper, - the Knight answered with a  groan.  -
That wouldn't be very nice, I'm  afraid  -  Not  very  nice  ALONE,  -  he
interrupted, quite eagerly: - but you've
no idea what a difference it makes mixing  it  with  other  things
such as gunpowder and sealing-wax. And here I must  leave  you. -  They
had just come to the end of the wood.
     Alice could only look puzzled: she was thinking of the pudding. - You
are sad, - the Knight said in an anxious tone: - let me sing you
a song to comfort you.
     - Is it very long? - Alice asked, for she had heard a  good  deal  of
poetry that day.
     - It's long, - said the Knight, - but very, VERY beautiful. Everybody
that hears me sing it - either it brings the TEARS  into  their  eyes,  or
else
     - Or else what? - said Alice, for the Knight had made a sudden pause.
     - Or else it doesn't, you know.  The  name  of  the  song  is  called
"HADDOCKS - EYES."
     - Oh, that's the name of the song, is it? -  Alice  said,  trying  to
feel interested.
     - No, you don't understand, -  the  Knight  said,  looking  a  little
vexed. - That's what the name is CALLED. The name really IS "THE AGED AGED
MAN."
     - Then I ought to have said "That's what the SONG is called"? - Alice
corrected herself.
     - No, you oughtn't: that's quite another thing! The  SONG  is  called
"WAYS AND MEANS": but that's only what it's CALLED, you know!
     - Well, what IS the song, then? - said Alice, who was  by  this  time
completely bewildered.
     - I was coming to that, - the Knight  said.  -  The  song  really  IS
"A-SITTING ON A GATE": and the tune's my own invention.
     So saying, he stopped his horse and let the reins fall on  its  neck:
then, slowly beating time with one hand, and with a faint  smile  lighting
up his gentle foolish face, as if he enjoyed the music  of  his  song,  he
began.
     Of all the strange things that Alice saw in her journey  Through  The
Looking-Glass, this was the one that she always remembered  most  clearly.
Years afterwards she could bring the whole scene back again, as if it  had
been only yesterday - the mild blue eyes and kindly smile of the Knight  -
the setting sun gleaming through his hair, and shining on his armour in  a
blaze of light that quite dazzled her the horse quietly moving about, with
the reins hanging loose on his neck, cropping the grass at her feet -  and
the black shadows of the forest behind - all  this  she  took  in  like  a
picture, as, with one hand shading her eyes, she leant  against  a  green,
watching the strange  pair,  and  listening,  in  a  half  dream,  to  the
melancholy music of the song.
     - But the tune ISN'T his own invention, - she said to herself: - it's
"I GIVE THEE  ALL,  I  CAN  NO  MORE."  -  She  stood  and  listened  very
attentively, but no tears came into her eyes.

             - I'll tell thee everything I can;
              There's little to relate.
            I saw an aged aged man,
              A-sitting on a gate.
            "Who are you, aged man? - I said.
              "and how is it you live?"
            And his answer trickled through my head
              Like water through a sieve.

            He said "I look for butterflies
              That sleep among the wheat:
            I make them into mutton-pies,
              And sell them in the street.
            I sell them unto men, - he said,
              "Who sail on stormy seas;
            And that's the way I get my bread
              A trifle, if you please."

            But I was thinking of a plan
              To dye one's whiskers green,
            And always use so large a fan
              That they could not be seen.
            So, having no reply to give
              To what the old man said,
            I cried, "Come, tell me how you live!"
              And thumped him on the head.

            His accents mild took up the tale:
              He said "I go my ways,
            And when I find a mountain-rill,
              I set it in a blaze;
            And thence they make a stuff they call
              Rolands - Macassar Oil
            Yet twopence-halfpenny is all
              They give me for my toil."

            But I was thinking of a way
              To feed oneself on batter,
            And so go on from day to day
              Getting a little fatter.
            I shook him well from side to side,
              Until his face was blue:
            "Come, tell me how you live," I cried,
              "And what it is you do!"

            He said "I hunt for haddocks - eyes
              Among the heather bright,
            And work them into waistcoat-buttons
              In the silent night.
            And these I do not sell for gold
              Or coin of silvery shine
            But for a copper halfpenny,
              And that will purchase nine.

            "I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
              Or set limed twigs for crabs;
            I sometimes search the grassy knolls
              For wheels of Hansom-cabs.
            And that's the way" (he gave a wink)
              "By which I get my wealth
            And very gladly will I drink
              Your Honour's noble health."

            I heard him then, for I had just
              Completed my design
            To keep the Menai bridge from rust
              By boiling it in wine.
            I thanked much for telling me
              The way he got his wealth,
            But chiefly for his wish that he
              Might drink my noble health.

            And not, if e'er by chance I put
              My fingers into glue
            Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
              Into a left-hand shoe,
            Or if I drop upon my toe
              A very heavy weight,
            I weep, for it reminds me so,
              Of that old man I used to know

            Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
            Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
            Whose face was very like a crow,
            With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,
            Who seemed distracted with his woe,
            Who rocked his body to and fro,
            And muttered mumblingly and low,
            As if his mouth were full of dough,
            Who snorted like a buffalo
            That summer evening, long ago,
              A-sitting on a gate.

     As the Knight sang the last words of the ballad, he gathered  up  the
reins, and turned his horse's head along the road by which they had  come.
- You've only a few yards to go, - he said, - down the hill and over  that
little brook, and then you'll be a Queen - -But you'll stay and see me off
first? - he added as Alice turned with an eager look in the  direction  to
which he  pointed.  -  I  shan't  be  long.  You'll  wait  and  wave  your
handkerchief when I get to that turn in the road? I think it'll  encourage
me, you see.
     - Of course I'll wait, - said Alice: - and thank you  very  much  for
coming so far - and for the song - I liked it very much.
     - I hope so, - the Knight said doubtfully: - but you  didn't  cry  so
much as I thought you would.
     So they shook hands, and then the Knight rode slowly  away  into  the
forest. - It won't take long to see him OFF, I expect,  -  Alice  said  to
herself, as she stood watching him. - There he goes! Right on his head  as
usual! However, he gets on again pretty easily - that comes of  having  so
many things hung round the horse - So she went on talking to  herself,  as
she watched the horse walking leisurely along the  road,  and  the  Knight
tumbling off, first on one side and then on the other. After the fourth or
fifth tumble he reached the turn, and then she waved her  handkerchief  to
him, and waited till he was out of sight.
     - I hope it encouraged him, - she said, as he turned to run down  the
hill: - and now for the last brook, and  to  be  a  Queen!  How  grand  it
sounds! - A very few steps brought her to the edge of  the  brook.  -  The
Eighth Square at last! - she cried as she bounded across,

                           * * * * * * *
                               * * * * * *
                           * * * * * * *

     and threw herself down to rest on a lawn as soft as moss, with little
flower-beds dotted about it here and there. - Oh, how glad  I  am  to  get
here! And what IS this on my head? - she exclaimed in a tone of dismay, as
she put her hands up to something very heavy, and fitted tight  all  round
her head.
     - But how CAN it have got there without my knowing it? - she said  to
herself, as she lifted it off, and set it on her lap to make out  what  it
could possibly be.
     It was a golden crown.


CHAPTER IX                       Queen Alice



     - Well, this IS grand! - said Alice. - I never expected I should be a
Queen so soon - and I'll tell you what it is, your majesty, - she went  on
in a severe tone (she was always rather fond of scolding herself), - it'll
never do for you to be lolling about on the grass like that!  Queens  have
to be dignified, you know!
     So she got up and walked about - rather stiffly just at first, as she
was afraid that the crown might come off: but she comforted  herself  with
the thought that there was nobody to see her, -  and  if  I  really  am  a
Queen, - she said as she sat down again, - I shall be able  to  manage  it
quite well in time.
     Everything was  happening  so  oddly  that  she  didn't  feel  a  bit
surprised at finding the Red Queen and the White Queen  sitting  close  to
her, one on each side: she would have like very much to ask them how  they
came there, but she feared it would not be  quite  civil.  However,  there
would be no harm, she thought, in asking if the game was over.  -  Please,
would you tell me - she began, looking timidly at the Red Queen.
     - Speak when you're spoken to! - The Queen sharply interrupted her.
     - But if everybody obeyed that rule, - said  Alice,  who  was  always
ready for a little argument, - and if you only spoke when you were  spoken
to, and the other person always waited for YOU to begin,  you  see  nobody
would ever say anything, so that
     - Ridiculous! - cried the Queen. - Why, don't you see, child  -  here
she broke off with a frown, and, after thinking  for  a  minute,  suddenly
changed the subject of the conversation. - What do you mean by  -  If  you
really are a Queen"? What right have you to all yourself so? You can't  be
a Queen, you know, till you've passed  the  proper  examination.  And  the
sooner we begin it, the better.
     - I only said "if"! - poor Alice pleaded in a piteous tone.  The  two
Queens looked at each other, and the Red Queen remarked, with
a little shudder, - She SAYS she only said "if"
     - But she said a great deal more than that! - the White Queen moaned,
wringing her hands. - Oh, ever so much more than that!
     - So you did, you know, - the Red Queen said to Alice. - Always speak
the truth - think before you speak - and write it down afterwards.
     - I'm sure I didn't mean - Alice was beginning,  but  the  Red  Queen
interrupted her impatiently.
     - That's just what I complain of! You SHOULD have meant! What do  you
suppose is the use of child without any meaning? Even a joke  should  have
some meaning - and a child's more important  than  a  joke,  I  hope.  You
couldn't deny that, even if you tried with both hands.
     - I don't deny things with my HANDS, - Alice objected.
     - Nobody said you did, - said the Red Queen. - I said you couldn't if
you tried.
     - She's in that state of mind, - said the White  Queen,  -  that  she
wants to deny SOMETHING - only she doesn't know what to deny!
     - A nasty, vicious temper, - the Red Queen remarked; and  then  there
was an uncomfortable silence for a minute or two.
     The Red Queen broke the silence by saying to the  White  Queen,  -  I
invite you to Alice's dinner-party this afternoon.
     The White Queen smiled feebly, and said -  And  I  invite  YOU.  -  I
didn't know I was to have a party at all, - said Alice; - but if
there is to be one, I think _I_ ought to invite the guests.
     - We gave you the opportunity of doing it, - the Red Queen  remarked:
- but I daresay you've not had many lessons in manners yet?
     - Manners are not taught in lessons, - said Alice.  -  Lessons  teach
you to do sums, and things of that sort.
     - And you do Addition? - the White Queen asked. - What's one and  one
and one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one?
     - I don't know, - said Alice. - I lost count.
     - She can't to Addition, - the Red Queen interrupted. -  Can  you  do
Subtraction? Take nine from eight.
     - Nine from eight I can't, you know, - Alice replied very readily:  -
but
     - She can't do Subtraction, - said the White  Queen.  -  Can  you  do
Division? Divide a loaf by a knife - what's the answer to that?
     - I suppose - Alice was beginning, but the  Red  Queen  answered  for
her. - Bread-and-butter, of course. Try another Subtraction  sum.  Take  a
bone from a dog: what remains?
     Alice considered. - The bone wouldn't remain, of course, if I took it
- and the dog wouldn't remain; it would come to bite me - and I'm  sure  I
shouldn't remain!
     - Then you think nothing would remain? - said the Red Queen.
     - I think that's the answer.
     - Wrong, as usual, - said the Red Queen: -  the  dog's  temper  would
remain.
     - But I don't see how
     - Why, look here! - the Red Queen cried. - The  dog  would  lose  its
temper, wouldn't it?
     - Perhaps it would, - Alice replied cautiously.
     - Then it the dog went away, its temper would  remain!  -  the  Queen
exclaimed triumphantly.
     Alice said, as gravely as she could, - They might go different  ways.
- But she couldn't help thinking to herself, - What dreadful  nonsense  we
ARE talking!
     - She can't do sums a BIT! - the Queens  said  together,  with  great
emphasis.
     - Can YOU do sums? - Alice said, turning suddenly on the White Queen,
for she didn't like being found fault with so much.
     The Queen gasped and shut her eyes. - I can do  Addition,  -  if  you
give me time - but I can do Subtraction, under ANY circumstances!
     - Of course you know your A B C? - said the Red Queen.
     - To be sure I do. - said Alice.
     - So do I, - the White Queen whispered: - we'll  often  say  it  over
together, dear. And I'll tell you a secret -  I  can  read  words  of  one
letter! Isn't THAT grand! However, don't be discouraged. You'll come to it
in time.
     Here the Red Queen began again. - Can you  answer  useful  questions?
she said. - How is bread made?
     - I know THAT! - Alice cried eagerly. - You take some flour
     - Where do you pick the flower? - the  White  Queen  asked.  -  In  a
garden, or in the hedges?
     - Well, it isn't PICKED at all, - Alice explained: - it's GROUND
     - How many acres of ground? - said the White  Queen.  -  You  mustn't
leave out so many things.
     - Fan her head! - the Red Queen anxiously interrupted.  -  She'll  be
feverish after so much thinking. - So they set to work and fanned her with
bunches of leaves, till she had to beg them to leave off, it blew her hair
about so.
     - She's all right again now, - said the Red  Queen.  -  Do  you  know
Languages? What's the French for fiddle-de-dee?
     - Fiddle-de-dee's not English, - Alice replied gravely.
     - Who ever said it was? - said the Red Queen. Alice thought she saw a
way out of the difficulty this time. - If
you'll tell me what language "fiddle-de-dee" is, I'll tell you the  French
for it! - she exclaimed triumphantly.
     But the Red Queen drew herself up rather stiffly, and said  -  Queens
never make bargains.
     - I wish Queens never asked questions, - Alice thought to herself.
     - Don't let us quarrel, - the White Queen said in an anxious tone.  -
What is the cause of lightning?
     - The cause of lightning, - Alice said very decidedly, for  she  felt
quite certain about this, - is  the  thunder  -  no,  no!  -  she  hastily
corrected herself. - I meant the other way.
     - It's too late to correct it, - said the Red Queen:  -  when  you've
once said a thing, that fixes it, and you must take the consequences.
     - Which reminds me - the White Queen said, looking down and nervously
clasping and unclasping her hands, -  we  had  SUCH  a  thunderstorm  last
Tuesday - I mean one of the last set of Tuesdays, you know.
     Alice was puzzled. - In OUR country, - she remarked, -  there's  only
one day at a time.
     The Red Queen said, - That's a poor thin way  of  doing  things.  Now
HERE, we mostly have days and nights two or three at a time, and sometimes
in the winter we take as many as five  nights  together  for  warmth,  you
know.
     - Are five nights warmer than one night, then? -  Alice  ventured  to
ask.
     - Five times as warm, of course.
     - But they should be five times as COLD, by the same rule
     - Just so! - cried the Red Queen. - Five  times  as  warm,  AND  five
times as cold - just as I'm five times as rich as you are, AND five  times
as clever!
     Alice sighted and gave it up. - It's exactly like a  riddle  with  no
answer! - she thought.
     - Humpty Dumpty saw it too, - the White Queen went on in a low voice,
more as if she were talking to herself. - He  came  to  the  door  with  a
corkscrew in his hand
     - What did he want? - said the Red Queen.
     - He said he WOULD come in, - the White Queen went on, -  because  he
was looking for a hippopotamus. Now, as it happened, there wasn't  such  a
thing in the house, that morning.
     - Is there generally? - Alice asked in an astonished tone.
     - Well, only on Thursdays, - said the Queen.
     - I know what he came for, - said Alice: - he wanted  to  punish  the
fish, because
     Here the White Queen began again. - It was SUCH a  thunderstorm,  you
can't think! - (She NEVER could you know, - said the  Red  Queen.)  -  And
part of the roof came off, and ever so much thunder got in - and  it  went
rolling round the room in great lumps -and knocking over  the  tables  and
things - till I was so frightened, I couldn't remember my own name!
     Alice thought to herself, - I never should TRY to remember my name in
the middle of an accident! Where would be the use of it? - but she did not
say this aloud, for fear of hurting the poor Queen's feeling.
     - Your Majesty must excuse her, - the Red Queen said to Alice, taking
one of the White Queen's hands in her own, and gently stroking it:  -  she
means well, but she can't help saying foolish things, as a general rule.
     The White Queen looked timidly at Alice, who felt she  OUGHT  to  say
something kind, but really couldn't think of anything at the moment.
     - She never was really well brought up, - the Red Queen  went  on:  -
but it's amazing how good-tempered she is! Pat her on the  head,  and  see
how pleased she'll be! - But this was more than Alice had courage to do.
     - A little kindness - and putting her  hair  in  papers  -  would  do
wonders with her
     The White Queen gave a deep  sigh,  and  laid  her  head  on  Alice's
shoulder. - I AM so sleepy? - she moaned.
     - She's tired, poor thing! - said the Red Queen. -  Smooth  her  hair
lend her your nightcap - and sing her a soothing lullaby.
     - I haven't got a nightcap with me, - said Alice,  as  she  tried  to
obey the first direction: - and I don't know any soothing lullabies."
     - I must do it myself, then, - said the Red Queen, and she began:

         - Hush-a-by lady, in Alice's lap!
        Till the feast's ready, we've time for a nap:
        When the feast's over, we'll go to the ball
        Red Queen, and White Queen, and Alice, and all!

     - And now you know the words, - she added, as she put her  head  down
on Alice's other shoulder, - just sing  it  through  to  ME.  I'm  getting
sleepy, too. - In another moment both Queens were fast asleep, and snoring
loud.
     -  What  AM  I  to  do?  exclaimed  Alice,  looking  about  in  great
perplexity, as first one round head, and then the other, rolled down  from
her shoulder, and lay like a heavy lump in her lap. -  I  don't  thing  it
EVER happened before, that any one had to take care of two  Queens  asleep
at once! No, not in all the History of England - it  couldn't,  you  know,
because there never was more than one Queen at a time.  Do  wake  up,  you
heavy things! - she went on in an impatient tone; but there was no  answer
but a gentle snoring.
     The snoring got more distinct every minute, and sounded more  like  a
tune: at last she could even make out  the  words,  and  she  listened  so
eagerly that, when the two great heads vanished from her lap,  she  hardly
missed them.
     She was standing before an arched doorway over which were  the  words
QUEEN ALICE in large letters, and on each side of the  arch  there  was  a
bell-handle; one was marked - Visitors - Bell, - and the other -  Servants
- Bell.
     - I'll wait till the song's over, - thought Alice, -  and  then  I'll
ring - the - WHICH bell must I ring? - she went on, very much  puzzled  by
the names. - I'm not a visitor, and I'm not a servant. There OUGHT  to  be
one marked "Queen," you know
     Just then the door opened a little way, and a creature  with  a  long
beak put its head out for a moment and said - No admittance till the  week
after next! - and shut the door again with a bang.
     Alice knocked and rang in vain for a long time, but at last,  a  very
old Frog, who was sitting under a tree, got up and hobbled slowly  towards
her: he was dressed in bright yellow, and had enormous boots on.
     - What is it, now? - the Frog said in a deep  hoarse  whisper.  Alice
turned round, ready to find fault with anybody. - Where's the
servant whose business it is to answer the door? - she began angrily.
     - Which door? - said the Frog. Alice almost stamped  with  irritation
at the slow drawl in which he
spoke. - THIS door, of course!
     The Frog looked at the door with his large dull eyes  for  a  minute:
then he went nearer and rubbed it with his thumb, as  if  he  were  trying
whether the paint would come off; then he looked at Alice.
     - To answer the door? - he said. - What's it been asking of? - He was
so hoarse that Alice could scarcely hear him.
     - I don't know what you mean, - she said.
     - I talks English, doesn't I? - the Frog went on. - Or are you  deaf?
What did it ask you?
     - Nothing! - Alice said impatiently. - I've been knocking at it!
     - Shouldn't do that - shouldn't do that - the Frog muttered. -  Wexes
it, you know. - Then he went up and gave the door a kick with one  of  his
great feet. - You let IT alone, - he panted out, as he hobbled back to his
tree, - and it'll let YOU alone, you know.
     At this moment the door was flung open, and a shrill voice was  heard
singing:

     - To the Looking-Glass world it was Alice that said,
    "I've a sceptre in hand, I've a crown on my head;
    Let the Looking-Glass creatures, whatever they be,
    Come and dine with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me."

     And hundreds of voices joined in the chorus:

     - Then fill up the glasses as quick as you can,
    And sprinkle the table with buttons and bran:
    Put cats in the coffee, and mice in the tea
    And welcome Queen Alice with thirty-times-three!

     Then followed a confused noise of  cheering,  and  Alice  thought  to
herself, - Thirty  times  three  makes  ninety.  I  wonder  if  any  one's
counting? - In a minute there was silence again, and the same shrill voice
sang another verse;

     - "O Looking-Glass creatures," quothe Alice, "draw near!
    'Tis and honour to see me, a favour to hear:
    'Tis a privilege high to have dinner and tea
    Along with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!"

     Then came the chorus again:

     - Then fill up the glasses with treacle and ink,
    Or anything else that is pleasant to drink:
    Mix sand with the cider, and wool with the wine
    And welcome Queen Alice with ninety-times-nine!

     - Ninety times nine! - Alice repeated in despair, - Oh, that'll never
be done! I'd better go in at once - and  there  was  a  dead  silence  the
moment she appeared.
     Alice glanced nervously along the table, as she walked up  the  large
hall, and noticed that there were about fifty quests, of all  kinds:  some
were animals, some birds, and there were even a few flowers among them.  -
I'm glad they've come without waiting to be asked,  -  she  thought:  -  I
should never have known who were the right people to invite!
     There were three chairs at the head of the table; the Red  and  White
Queens had already taken two of them, but the middle one was empty.  Alice
sat down in it, rather uncomfortable in the silence, and longing for  some
one to speak.
     At last the Red Queen began. - You've missed the soup and fish, - she
said. - Put on the joint! - And the waiters set a  leg  of  mutton  before
Alice, who looked at it rather anxiously, as she had never had to carve  a
joint before.
     - You look a little shy; let me introduce you to that leg of  mutton,
- said the Red Queen. - Alice - Mutton; Mutton  -  Alice.  -  The  leg  of
mutton got up in the dish and made  a  little  bow  to  Alice;  and  Alice
returned the bow, not knowing whether to be frightened or amused.
     - May I give you a slice? - she said, taking up the knife  and  fork,
and looking from one Queen to the other.
     - Certainly not,  -  the  Red  Queen,  very  decidedly:  -  it  isn't
etiquette to cut any one you've been introduced to. Remove  the  joint!  -
And the waiters carried it off, and brought a large  plum-pudding  in  its
place.
     - I won't be introduced to the pudding, please, - Alice  said  rather
hastily, - or shall we get no dinner at all. May I give you some?
     But the Red Queen looked sulky, and growled - Pudding - Alice;  Alice
- Pudding. Remove the pudding! - and the waiters took it always so quickly
that Alice couldn't return its bow.
     However, she didn't see why the Red Queen should be the only  one  to
give orders, so, as an experiment, she called out - Waiter! Bring back the
pudding! - and there it was again in a moment like a  conjuring-trick.  It
was so large that she couldn't help feeling a LITTLE shy with it,  as  she
had been with the mutton; however, she conquered her shyness  by  a  great
effort and cut a slice and handed it to the Red Queen.
     - What impertinence! - said the Pudding. - I wonder  how  you'd  like
it, if I were to cut a slice out of YOU, you creature!
     - It spoke in a thick, suety sort of voice, and Alice hadn't  a  word
to say in reply: she could only sit and look at it and gasp.
     - Make a remark, - said the Red Queen: - it's ridiculous to leave all
the conversation to the pudding!
     - Do you know, I've had such a quantity  of  poetry  repeated  to  me
to-day, - Alice began, a little frightened at finding that, the moment she
opened her lips, there was dead silence, and all eyes were fixed upon her;
- and it's a very curious thing, I think -every poem was about  fishes  in
some way. Do you know why they're so fond of fishes, all about here?
     She spoke to the Red Queen, whose answer was a  little  wide  of  the
mark. - As to fishes, - she said, very slowly and  solemnly,  putting  her
mouth close to Alice's ear, - her White Majesty knows a  lovely  riddle  -
all in poetry - all about fishes. Shall she repeat it?
     - Her Red Majesty's very kind  to  mention  it,  -  the  White  Queen
murmured into Alice's other ear, in a voice like the cooing of a pigeon. -
It would be SUCH a treat! May I?
     - Please do, - Alice said very politely. The White Queen laughed with
delight, and stroked Alice's cheek. Then
she began:

         - "First, the fish must be caught.
    That is easy: a baby, I think, could have caught it.
        "Next, the fish must be bought.
    That is easy: a penny, I think, would have bought it.

        "Now cook me the fish!
    That is easy, and will not take more than a minute.
        Let it lie in a dish!"
    That is easy, because it already is in it.

        "Bring it here! Let me sup!"
    It is easy to set such a dish on the table.
        "Take the dish-cover up!
    Ah, THAT is so hard that I fear I'm unable!

        For it holds it like glue
    Holds the lid to the dish, while it lies in the middle:
        Which is easiest to do,
    Un-dish-cover the fish, or dishcover the riddle?

     - Take a minute to think about it, and then guess,  -  said  the  Red
Queen. - Meanwhile, we'll drink your health - Queen  Alice's  health!  she
screamed at the top of her voice, and all the  guests  began  drinking  it
directly, and very queerly they managed it: some of them put their glasses
upon their heads like extinguishers, and  drank  all  that  trickled  down
their faces -others upset the decanters, and drank the wine as it ran  off
the edges of the table - and three of them  (who  looked  like  kangaroos)
scrambled into the dish of roast mutton, and began eagerly lapping up  the
gravy, - just like pigs in a trough! thought Alice.
     - You ought to return thanks in a neat speech, - the Red Queen  said,
frowning at Alice as she spoke.
     - We must support you, you know, -  the  White  Queen  whispered,  as
Alice got up to do it, very obediently, but a little frightened.
     - Thank you very much, - she whispered in reply, - but I can do quite
well without.
     - That wouldn't be at all the  thing,  -  the  Red  Queen  said  very
decidedly: so Alice tried to submit to it with a good grace.
     (And they DID push so! - she said afterwards, when  she  was  telling
her sister the history of the feast. - You would have thought they  wanted
to squeeze me flat!')
     In fact it was rather difficult for her to keep in  her  place  while
she made her speech: the two Queens pushed her so, one on each side,  that
they nearly lifted her up into the air: - I rise to return thanks -  Alice
began: and she really DID rise as she spoke, several inches; but  she  got
hold of the edge of the table, and managed to pull herself down again.
     - Take care of yourself! - screamed the White Queen, seizing  Alice's
hair with both her hands. - Something's going to happen!
     And then (as Alice  afterwards  described  it)  all  sorts  of  thing
happened in a moment. The candles all grew  up  to  the  ceiling,  looking
something like a bed of rushes with  fireworks  at  the  top.  As  to  the
bottles, they each took a pair of plates, which they hastily fitted on  as
wings, and  so,  with  forks  for  legs,  went  fluttering  about  in  all
directions: - and very like birds they look, - Alice thought  to  herself,
as well as she could in the dreadful confusion that was beginning.
     At this moment she heard a hoarse laugh at her side, and turn to  see
what was the matter with the White Queen; but, instead of the Queen, there
was the leg of mutton sitting in the chair. - Here I  am!  cried  a  voice
from the soup tureen, and Alice turned again, just  in  time  to  see  the
Queen's broad good-natured face grinning at the for a moment over the edge
of the tureen, before she disappeared into the soup.
     There was not a moment to be lost. Already several of the guests were
lying down in the dishes, and the soup ladle  was  walking  up  the  table
towards Alice's chair, and beckoning to her impatiently to get out of  its
way.
     - I can't stand this any longer! - she cried as  she  jumped  up  and
seized the table-cloth with both hands: one good pull, and plates, dishes,
guests, and candles came crashing down together in a heap on the floor.
     - And as for YOU, - she went on, turning fiercly upon the Red  Queen,
who she considered as the cause of all the mischief - but the Queen was no
longer at her side - she had suddenly dwindled  down  to  the  size  of  a
little doll, and was now on the table, merrily  running  round  and  round
after her own shawl, which was trailing behind her.
     At any other time, Alice would have felt surprised at this,  but  she
was far too much excited to be surprised at anything NOW. - As for YOU,  -
she repeated, catching hold of the little creature  in  the  very  act  of
jumping over a bottle which had just lighted upon the table, - I'll  shake
you into a kitten, that I will!




CHAPTER X                        Shaking



     She took her off the table as she spoke, and shook her backwards  and
forwards with all her might.
     The Red Queen made no resistance whatever; only her  face  grew  very
small, and her eyes got large and green:  and  still,  as  Alice  went  on
shaking her, she kept on growing shorter - and fatter - and softer  -  and
rounder - and



CHAPTER XI                       Waking



     - and it really WAS a kitten, after all.




CHAPTER XII                      Which Dreamed it?



     - Your majesty shouldn't purr so loud,  -  Alice  said,  rubbing  her
eyes, and addressing the kitten, respectfully, yet with some  severity.  -
You woke me out of oh! such a nice dream! And you've been along  with  me,
Kitty - all through the Looking-Glass world. Did you know it, dear?
     It is a very inconvenient habit of kittens (Alice had  one  made  the
remark) that, whatever you say to them, they Always purr. - If them  would
only purr for "yes" and mew for "no," or any rule of that sort, - she  had
said, - so that one could keep up a conversation! But  how  CAN  you  talk
with a person if they always say the same thing?
     On this occasion the kitten only purred: and  it  was  impossible  to
guess whether it meant - yes - or - no.
     So Alice hunted among the chessmen on the table till  she  had  found
the Red Queen: then she went down on her knees on the hearth-rug, and  put
the kitten and the Queen to look at each other. "Now, Kitty! - she  cried,
clapping her hands triumphantly. - Confess that was what you turned into!
     ( - But it wouldn't look at it, - she said, when she  was  explaining
the thing afterwards to her  sister:  -  it  turned  away  its  head,  and
pretended not to see it: but it looked a LITTLE ashamed of  itself,  so  I
think it MUST have been the Red Queen.')
     - Sit up a little more stiffly, dear! -  Alice  cried  with  a  merry
laugh. - And curtsey while you're thinking what to  -  what  to  purr.  It
saves time, remember! - And she caught it up and gave it one little  kiss,
- just in honour of having been a Red Queen.
     - Snowdrop, my pet! - she went on, looking over her shoulder  at  the
White Kitten, which was still patiently undergoing its toilet, - when WILL
Dinah have finished with your White Majesty, I wonder? That  must  be  the
reason you were so untidy in my dream - Dinah! do  you  know  that  you're
scrubbing a White Queen? Really, it's most disrespectful of you!
     - And what did DINAH turn to, I wonder? - she  prattled  on,  as  she
settled comfortably down, with one elbow in the rug, and her chin  in  her
hand, to watch the kittens. - Tell me,  Dinah,  did  you  turn  to  Humpty
Dumpty? I THINK you did - however, you'd better not  mention  it  to  your
friends just yet, for I'm not sure.
     - By the way, Kitty, of only you'd been really with me in  my  dream,
there was one thing you WOULD have enjoyed - I  had  such  a  quantity  of
poetry said to me, all about fishes! To-morrow morning you  shall  have  a
real treat. All the time you're eating your breakfast,  I'll  repeat  "The
Walrus and the Carpenter" to you; and  then  you  can  make  believe  it's
oysters, dear!
     - Now, Kitty, let's consider who it was that dreamed it all. This  is
a serious question, my dear, and you should NOT go  on  licking  your  paw
like that - as if Dinah hadn't washed you this morning! You see, Kitty, it
MUST have been either me or the Red King. He was  part  of  my  dream,  of
course - but then I was part of his dream,  too!  WAS  it  the  Red  King,
Kitty. You were his wife, my dear, so you ought to know Oh, Kitty, DO help
to settle it! I'm sure your paw can wait! - But the provoking kitten  only
began on the other paw, and pretended it hadn't heard the question.

     Which do YOU think it was?





                    A boat beneath a sunny sky,
                    Lingering onward dreamily
                    In an evening of July

                    Children three that nestle near,
                    Eager eye and willing ear,
                    Pleased a simple tale to hear

                    Long had paled that sunny sky:
                    Echoes fade and memories die.
                    Autumn frosts have slain July.

                    Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
                    Alice moving under skies
                    Never seen by waking eyes.

                    Children yet, the tale to hear,
                    Eager eye and willing ear,
                    Lovingly shall nestle near.

                    In a Wonderland they lie,
                    Dreaming as the days go by,
                    Dreaming as the summers die:

                    Ever drifting down the stream
                    Lingering in the golden gleam
                    Life, what is it but a dream?


THE END







Lewis Carroll. The hunting of the Snark



an Agony in Eight Fits





PREFACE 



     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)
     "Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes."
     In view of this painful possibility, I will not (as I  might)  appeal
indignantly to my other writings as a proof that I am incapable of such  a
deed: I will not (as I might) point to the strong moral  purpose  of  this
poem itself, to the arithmetical principles so  cautiously  inculcated  in
it, or to its noble teachings in Natural History - I will  take  the  more
prosaic course of simply explaining how it happened.
     The Bellman, who was almost  morbidly  sensitive  about  appearances,
used  to  have  the  bowsprit  unshipped  once  or  twice  a  week  to  be
revarnished, and it more than  once  happened,  when  the  time  came  for
replacing it, that no one on board could remember which end of the ship it
belonged to. They knew it was not of the slightest use to  appeal  to  the
Bellman about it - he would only refer to his Naval Code, and read out  in
pathetic tones Admiralty Instructions which none of  them  had  ever  been
able to understand - so it generally  ended  in  its  being  fastened  on,
anyhow, across the rudder. The helmsman used to stand by with tears in his
eyes; he knew it was all wrong, but alas! Rule 42 of  the  Code,  "No  one
shall speak to the Man at the Helm", had been  completed  by  the  Bellman
himself with the words "and the Man at the Helm shall speak to no one." So
remonstrance was impossible, and no steering could be done till  the  next
varnishing day. During these bewildering intervals the ship usually sailed
backwards.
     As this poem is  to  some  extent  connected  with  the  lay  of  the
Jabberwock, let me take this opportunity of answering a question that  has
often been asked me, how to pronounce "slithy toves." The "i" in  "slithy"
is long, as in "writhe"; and "toves" is pronounced so  as  to  rhyme  with
"groves." Again, the first "o" in "borogoves" is pronounced like  the  "o"
in "borrow." I have heard people try to give it the sound of  the  "o"  in
"worry. Such is Human Perversity.
     This also seems a fitting occasion to notice the other hard works  in
that poem. Humpty-Dumpty's theory, of two meanings packed  into  one  word
like a portmanteau, seems to me the right explanation for all.
     For instance, take the two words "fuming" and "furious." Make up your
mind that you will say both words, but leave it unsettled which  you  will
say first. Now open your mouth and speak. If your thoughts incline ever so
little towards "fuming," you will say "fuming-furious;" if they  turn,  by
even a hair's breadth, towards "furious," you will  say  "furious-fuming;"
but if you have the rarest of gifts, a perfectly balanced mind,  you  will
say "frumious."
     Supposing that, when Pistol uttered the well-known words -
     "Under which king, Bezonian? Speak or die!"
     Justice Shallow had felt  certain  that  it  was  either  William  or
Richard, but had not been able to settle  which,  so  that  he  could  not
possibly say either name before the other, can it be doubted that,  rather
than die, he would have gasped out "Rilchiam!"



Fit the First       THE LANDING




          "Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,
               As he landed his crew with care;
          Supporting each man on the top of the tide
               By a finger entwined in his hair.

          "Just the place for a Snark!  I have said it twice:
               That alone should encourage the crew.
          Just the place for a Snark!  I have said it thrice:
               What i tell you three times is true."

          The crew was complete: it included a Boots -
               A maker of Bonnets and Hoods -
          A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes -
               And a Broker, to value their goods.

          A Billiard-maker, whose skill was immense,
               Might perhaps have won more than his share -
          But a Banker, engaged at enormous expense,
               Had the whole of their cash in his care.

          There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,
               Or would sit making lace in the bow:
          And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck,
               Though none of the sailors knew how.

          There was one who was famed for the number of things
               He forgot when he entered the ship:
          His umbrella, his watch, all his jewels and rings,
               And the clothes he had bought for the trip.

          He had forty-two boxes, all carefully packed,
               With his name painted clearly on each:
          But, since he omitted to mention the fact,
               They were all left behind on the beach.

          The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because
               He had seven coats on when he came,
          With three pairs of boots - but the worst of it was,
               He had wholly forgotten his name.

          He would answer to "Hi!" or to any loud cry,
               Such as "Fry me!" or "Fritter my wig!"
          To "What-you-may-call-um!" or "What-was-his-name!"
               But especially "Thing-um-a-jig!"

          While, for those who preferred a more forcible word,
               He had different names from these:
          His intimate friends called him "Candle-ends,"
               And his enemies "Toasted-cheese."

          "His form in ungainly - his intellect small - "
               (So the Bellman would often remark)
          "But his courage is perfect!  And that, after all,
               Is the thing that one needs with a Snark."

          He would joke with hyenas, returning their stare
               With an impudent wag of the head:
          And he once went a walk, paw-in-paw, with a bear,
               "Just to keep up its spirits," he said.

          He came as a Baker: but owned, when too late -
               And it drove the poor Bellman half-mad -
          He could only bake Bridecake - for which, I may state,
               No materials were to be had.

          The last of the crew needs especial remark,
               Though he looked an incredible dunce:
          He had just one idea - but, that one being "Snark,"
               The good Bellman engaged him at once.

          He came as a Butcher: but gravely declared,
               When the ship had been sailing a week,
          He could only kill Beavers.  The Bellman looked scared,
               And was almost too frightened to speak:

          But at length he explained, in a tremulous tone,
               There was only one Beaver on board;
          And that was a tame one he had of his own,
               Whose death would be deeply deplored.

          The Beaver, who happened to hear the remark,
               Protested, with tears in its eyes,
          That not even the rapture of hunting the Snark
               Could atone for that dismal surprise!

          It strongly advised that the Butcher should be
               Conveyed in a separate ship:
          But the Bellman declared that would never agree
               With the plans he had made for the trip:

          Navigation was always a difficult art,
               Though with only one ship and one bell:
          And he feared he must really decline, for his part,
               Undertaking another as well.

          The Beaver's best course was, no doubt, to procure
               A second-hand dagger-proof coat -
          So the Baker advised it -  and next, to insure
               Its life in some Office of note:

          This the Banker suggested, and offered for hire
               (On moderate terms), or for sale,
          Two excellent Policies, one Against Fire,
               And one Against Damage From Hail.

          Yet still, ever after that sorrowful day,
               Whenever the Butcher was by,
          The Beaver kept looking the opposite way,
               And appeared unaccountably shy.



Fit the Second      THE BELLMAN'S SPEECH




          The Bellman himself they all praised to the skies -
               Such a carriage, such ease and such grace!
          Such solemnity, too!  One could see he was wise,
               The moment one looked in his face!

          He had bought a large map representing the sea,
               Without the least vestige of land:
          And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be
               A map they could all understand.

          "What's the good of Mercator's North Poles and Equators,
               Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?"
          So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply
               "They are merely conventional signs!

          "Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!
               But we've got our brave Captain to thank:
          (So the crew would protest) "that he's bought us the best -
               A perfect and absolute blank!"

          This was charming, no doubt; but they shortly found out
               That the Captain they trusted so well
          Had only one notion for crossing the ocean,
               And that was to tingle his bell.

          He was thoughtful and grave - but the orders he gave
               Were enough to bewilder a crew.
          When he cried "Steer to starboard, but keep her head larboard!"
               What on earth was the helmsman to do?

          Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes:
               A thing, as the Bellman remarked,
          That frequently happens in tropical climes,
               When a vessel is, so to speak, "snarked."

          But the principal failing occurred in the sailing,
               And the Bellman, perplexed and distressed,
          Said he had hoped, at least, when the wind blew due East,
               That the ship would not travel due West!

          But the danger was past - they had landed at last,
               With their boxes, portmanteaus, and bags:
          Yet at first sight the crew were not pleased with the view,
               Which consisted to chasms and crags.

          The Bellman perceived that their spirits were low,
               And repeated in musical tone
          Some jokes he had kept for a season of woe -
               But the crew would do nothing but groan.

          He served out some grog with a liberal hand,
               And bade them sit down on the beach:
          And they could not but own that their Captain looked grand,
               As he stood and delivered his speech.

          "Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!"
               (They were all of them fond of quotations:
          So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers,
               While he served out additional rations).

          "We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,
               (Four weeks to the month you may mark),
          But never as yet ('tis your Captain who speaks)
               Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!

          "We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
               (Seven days to the week I allow),
          But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze,
               We have never beheld till now!

          "Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
               The five unmistakable marks
          By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
               The warranted genuine Snarks.

          "Let us take them in order.  The first is the taste,
               Which is meager and hollow, but crisp:
          Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
               With a flavor of Will-o-the-wisp.

          "Its habit of getting up late you'll agree
               That it carries too far, when I say
          That it frequently breakfasts at five-o'clock tea,
               And dines on the following day.

          "The third is its slowness in taking a jest.
               Should you happen to venture on one,
          It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:
               And it always looks grave at a pun.

          "The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines,
               Which is constantly carries about,
          And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes -
               A sentiment open to doubt.

          "The fifth is ambition.  It next will be right
               To describe each particular batch:
          Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,
               And those that have whiskers, and scratch.

          "For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,
               Yet, I feel it my duty to say,
          Some are Boojums - " The Bellman broke off in alarm,
               For the Baker had fainted away.



Fit the Third       THE BAKER'S TALE




          They roused him with muffins - they roused him with ice -
               They roused him with mustard and cress -
          They roused him with jam and judicious advice -
               They set him conundrums to guess.

          When at length he sat up and was able to speak,
               His sad story he offered to tell;
          And the Bellman cried "Silence!  Not even a shriek!"
               And excitedly tingled his bell.

          There was silence supreme!  Not a shriek, not a scream,
               Scarcely even a howl or a groan,
          As the man they called "Ho!" told his story of woe
               In an antediluvian tone.

          "My father and mother were honest, though poor - "
               "Skip all that!" cried the Bellman in haste.
          "If it once becomes dark, there's no chance of a Snark -
               We have hardly a minute to waste!"

          "I skip forty years," said the Baker, in tears,
               "And proceed without further remark
          To the day when you took me aboard of your ship
               To help you in hunting the Snark.

          "A dear uncle of mine (after whom I was named)
               Remarked, when I bade him farewell - "
          "Oh, skip your dear uncle!" the Bellman exclaimed,
               As he angrily tingled his bell.

          "He remarked to me then," said that mildest of men,
               " 'If your Snark be a Snark, that is right:
          Fetch it home by all means - you may serve it with greens,
               And it's handy for striking a light.

          " 'You may seek it with thimbles - and seek it with care;
               You may hunt it with forks and hope;
          You may threaten its life with a railway-share;
               You may charm it with smiles and soap - ' "

          ("That's exactly the method," the Bellman bold
               In a hasty parenthesis cried,
          "That's exactly the way I have always been told
               That the capture of Snarks should be tried!")

          " 'But oh, beamish nephew, beware of the day,
               If your Snark be a Boojum!  For then
          You will softly and suddenly vanish away,
               And never be met with again!'

          "It is this, it is this that oppresses my soul,
               When I think of my uncle's last words:
          And my heart is like nothing so much as a bowl
               Brimming over with quivering curds!

          "It is this, it is this - " "We have had that before!"
               The Bellman indignantly said.
          And the Baker replied "Let me say it once more.
               It is this, it is this that I dread!

          "I engage with the Snark - every night after dark -
               In a dreamy delirious fight:
          I serve it with greens in those shadowy scenes,
               And I use it for striking a light:

          "But if ever I meet with a Boojum, that day,
               In a moment (of this I am sure),
          I shall softly and suddenly vanish away -
               And the notion I cannot endure!"



Fit the fourth      THE HUNTING




          The Bellman looked uffish, and wrinkled his brow.
               "If only you'd spoken before!
          It's excessively awkward to mention it now,
               With the Snark, so to speak, at the door!

          "We should all of us grieve, as you well may believe,
               If you never were met with again -
          But surely, my man, when the voyage began,
               You might have suggested it then?

          "It's excessively awkward to mention it now -
               As I think I've already remarked."
          And the man they called "Hi!" replied, with a sigh,
               "I informed you the day we embarked.

          "You may charge me with murder - or want of sense -
               (We are all of us weak at times):
          But the slightest approach to a false pretense
               Was never among my crimes!

          "I said it in Hebrew - I said it in Dutch -
               I said it in German and Greek:
          But I wholly forgot (and it vexes me much)
               That English is what you speak!"

          "'Tis a pitiful tale," said the Bellman, whose face
               Had grown longer at every word:
          "But, now that you've stated the whole of your case,
               More debate would be simply absurd.

          "The rest of my speech" (he explained to his men)
               "You shall hear when I've leisure to speak it.
          But the Snark is at hand, let me tell you again!
               'Tis your glorious duty to seek it!

          "To seek it with thimbles, to seek it with care;
               To pursue it with forks and hope;
          To threaten its life with a railway-share;
               To charm it with smiles and soap!

          "For the Snark's a peculiar creature, that won't
               Be caught in a commonplace way.
          Do all that you know, and try all that you don't:
               Not a chance must be wasted to-day!

          "For England expects - I forbear to proceed:
               'Tis a maxim tremendous, but trite:
          And you'd best be unpacking the things that you need
               To rig yourselves out for the fight."

          Then the Banker endorsed a blank check (which he crossed),
               And changed his loose silver for notes.
          The Baker with care combed his whiskers and hair,
               And shook the dust out of his coats.

          The Boots and the Broker were sharpening a spade -
               Each working the grindstone in turn:
          But the Beaver went on making lace, and displayed
               No interest in the concern:

          Though the Barrister tried to appeal to its pride,
               And vainly proceeded to cite
          A number of cases, in which making laces
               Had been proved an infringement of right.

          The maker of Bonnets ferociously planned
               A novel arrangement of bows:
          While the Billiard-marker with quivering hand
               Was chalking the tip of his nose.

          But the Butcher turned nervous, and dressed himself fine,
               With yellow kid gloves and a ruff -
          Said he felt it exactly like going to dine,
               Which the Bellman declared was all "stuff."

          "Introduce me, now there's a good fellow," he said,
               "If we happen to meet it together!"
          And the Bellman, sagaciously nodding his head,
               Said "That must depend on the weather."

          The Beaver went simply galumphing about,
               At seeing the Butcher so shy:
          And even the Baker, though stupid and stout,
               Made an effort to wink with one eye.

          "Be a man!" said the Bellman in wrath, as he heard
               The Butcher beginning to sob.
          "Should we meet with a Jubjub, that desperate bird,
               We shall need all our strength for the job!"



Fit the Fifth       THE BEAVER'S LESSON




          They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
               They pursued it with forks and hope;
          They threatened its life with a railway-share;
               They charmed it with smiles and soap.

          Then the Butcher contrived an ingenious plan
               For making a separate sally;
          And fixed on a spot unfrequented by man,
               A dismal and desolate valley.

          But the very same plan to the Beaver occurred:
               It had chosen the very same place:
          Yet neither betrayed, by a sign or a word,
               The disgust that appeared in his face.

          Each thought he was thinking of nothing but "Snark"
               And the glorious work of the day;
          And each tried to pretend that he did not remark
               That the other was going that way.

          But the valley grew narrow and narrower still,
               And the evening got darker and colder,
          Till (merely from nervousness, not from goodwill)
               They marched along shoulder to shoulder.

          Then a scream, shrill and high, rent the shuddering sky,
               And they knew that some danger was near:
          The Beaver turned pale to the tip of its tail,
               And even the Butcher felt queer.

          He thought of his childhood, left far far behind -
               That blissful and innocent state -
          The sound so exactly recalled to his mind
               A pencil that squeaks on a slate!

          "'Tis the voice of the Jubjub!" he suddenly cried.
               (This man, that they used to call "Dunce.")
          "As the Bellman would tell you," he added with pride,
               "I have uttered that sentiment once.

          "'Tis the note of the Jubjub! Keep count, I entreat;
               You will find I have told it you twice.
          'Tis the song of the Jubjub! The proof is complete,
               If only I've stated it thrice."

          The Beaver had counted with scrupulous care,
               Attending to every word:
          But it fairly lost heart, and outgrabe in despair,
               When the third repetition occurred.

          It felt that, in spite of all possible pains,
               It had somehow contrived to lose count,
          And the only thing now was to rack its poor brains
               By reckoning up the amount.

          "Two added to one - if that could but be done,"
               It said, "with one's fingers and thumbs!"
          Recollecting with tears how, in earlier years,
               It had taken no pains with its sums.

          "The thing can be done," said the Butcher, "I think.
               The thing must be done, I am sure.
          The thing shall be done!  Bring me paper and ink,
               The best there is time to procure."

          The Beaver brought paper,portfolio, pens,
               And ink in unfailing supplies:
          While strange creepy creatures came out of their dens,
               And watched them with wondering eyes.

          So engrossed was the Butcher, he heeded them not,
               As he wrote with a pen in each hand,
          And explained all the while in a popular style
               Which the Beaver could well understand.

          "Taking Three as the subject to reason about -
               A convenient number to state -
          We add Seven, and Ten, and then multiply out
               By One Thousand diminished by Eight.

          "The result we proceed to divide, as you see,
               By Nine Hundred and Ninety Two:
          Then subtract Seventeen, and the answer must be
               Exactly and perfectly true.

          "The method employed I would gladly explain,
               While I have it so clear in my head,
          If I had but the time and you had but the brain -
               But much yet remains to be said.

          "In one moment I've seen what has hitherto been
               Enveloped in absolute mystery,
          And without extra charge I will give you at large
               A Lesson in Natural History."

          In his genial way he proceeded to say
               (Forgetting all laws of propriety,
          And that giving instruction, without introduction,
               Would have caused quite a thrill in Society),

          "As to temper the Jubjub's a desperate bird,
               Since it lives in perpetual passion:
          Its taste in costume is entirely absurd -
               It is ages ahead of the fashion:

          "But it knows any friend it has met once before:
               It never will look at a bride:
          And in charity-meetings it stands at the door,
               And collects - though it does not subscribe.

          " Its flavor when cooked is more exquisite far
               Than mutton, or oysters, or eggs:
          (Some think it keeps best in an ivory jar,
               And some, in mahogany kegs:)

          "You boil it in sawdust: you salt it in glue:
               You condense it with locusts and tape:
          Still keeping one principal object in view -
               To preserve its symmetrical shape."

          The Butcher would gladly have talked till next day,
               But he felt that the lesson must end,
          And he wept with delight in attempting to say
               He considered the Beaver his friend.

          While the Beaver confessed, with affectionate looks
               More eloquent even than tears,
          It had learned in ten minutes far more than all books
               Would have taught it in seventy years.

          They returned hand-in-hand, and the Bellman, unmanned
               (For a moment) with noble emotion,
          Said "This amply repays all the wearisome days
               We have spent on the billowy ocean!"

          Such friends, as the Beaver and Butcher became,
               Have seldom if ever been known;
          In winter or summer, 'twas always the same -
               You could never meet either alone.

          And when quarrels arose - as one frequently finds
               Quarrels will, spite of every endeavor -
          The song of the Jubjub recurred to their minds,
               And cemented their friendship for ever!



Fit the Sixth       THE BARRISTER'S DREAM




          They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
               They pursued it with forks and hope;
          They threatened its life with a railway-share;
               They charmed it with smiles and soap.

          But the Barrister, weary of proving in vain
               That the Beaver's lace-making was wrong,
          Fell asleep, and in dreams saw the creature quite plain
               That his fancy had dwelt on so long.

          He dreamed that he stood in a shadowy Court,
               Where the Snark, with a glass in its eye,
          Dressed in gown, bands, and wig, was defending a pig
               On the charge of deserting its sty.

          The Witnesses proved, without error or flaw,
               That the sty was deserted when found:
          And the Judge kept explaining the state of the law
               In a soft under-current of sound.

          The indictment had never been clearly expressed,
               And it seemed that the Snark had begun,
          And had spoken three hours, before any one guessed
               What the pig was supposed to have done.

          The Jury had each formed a different view
               (Long before the indictment was read),
          And they all spoke at once, so that none of them knew
               One word that the others had said.

          "You must know - - " said the Judge: but the Snark
                                                   exclaimed "Fudge!"
               That statute is obsolete quite!
          Let me tell you, my friends, the whole question depends
               On an ancient manorial right.

          "In the matter of Treason the pig would appear
               To have aided, but scarcely abetted:
          While the charge of Insolvency fails, it is clear,
               If you grant the plea 'never indebted.'

          "The fact of Desertion I will not dispute;
               But its guilt, as I trust, is removed
          (So far as related to the costs of this suit)
               By the Alibi which has been proved.

          "My poor client's fate now depends on you votes."
               Here the speaker sat down in his place,
          And directed the Judge to refer to his notes
               And briefly to sum up the case.

          But the Judge said he never had summed up before;
               So the Snark undertook it instead,
          And summed it so well that it came to far more
               Than the Witnesses ever had said!

          When the verdict was called for, the Jury declined,
               As the word was so puzzling to spell;
          But they ventured to hope that the Snark wouldn't mind
               Undertaking that duty as well.

          So the Snark found the verdict, although, as it owned,
               It was spent with the toils of the day:
          When it said the word "GUILTY!" the Jury all groaned,
               And some of them fainted away.

          Then the Snark pronounced sentence, the Judge being quite
               Too nervous to utter a word:
          When it rose to its feet, there was silence like night,
               And the fall of a pin might be heard.

          "Transportation for lift" was the sentence it gave,
               "And *then* to be fined forty pound."
          The Jury all cheered, though the Judge said he feared
               That the phrase was not legally sound.

          But their wild exultation was suddenly checked
               When the jailer informed them, with tears,
          Such a sentence would have not the slightest effect,
               As the pig had been dead for some years.

          The Judge left the Court, looking deeply disgusted:
               But the Snark, though a little aghast,
          As the lawyer to whom the defense was entrusted,
               Went bellowing on to the last.

          Thus the Barrister dreamed, while the bellowing seemed
               To grow every moment more clear:
          Till he woke to the knell of a furious bell,
               Which the Bellman rang close at his ear.



Fit the Seventh     THE BANKER'S FATE




          They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
               They pursued it with forks and hope;
          They threatened its life with a railway-share;
               They charmed it with smiles and soap.

          And the Banker, inspired with a courage so new
               It was matter for general remark,
          Rushed madly ahead and was lost to their view
               In his zeal to discover the Snark

          But while he was seeking with thimbles and care,
               A Bandersnatch swiftly drew nigh
          And grabbed at the Banker, who shrieked in despair,
               For he knew it was useless to fly.

          He offered large discount - he offered a check
               (Drawn "to bearer") for seven-pounds-ten:
          But the Bandersnatch merely extended its neck
               And grabbed at the Banker again.

          Without rest or pause - while those frumious jaws
               Went savagely snapping around-
          He skipped and he hopped, and he floundered and flopped,
               Till fainting he fell to the ground.

          The Bandersnatch fled as the others appeared
               Led on by that fear-stricken yell:
          And the Bellman remarked "It is just as I feared!"
               And solemnly tolled on his bell.

          He was black in the face, and they scarcely could trace
               The least likeness to what he had been:
          While so great was his fright that his waistcoat turned white-
               A wonderful thing to be seen!

          To the horror of all who were present that day.
               He uprose in full evening dress,
          And with senseless grimaces endeavored to say
               What his tongue could no longer express.

          Down he sank in a chair - ran his hands through his hair -
               And chanted in mimsiest tones
          Words whose utter inanity proved his insanity,
               While he rattled a couple of bones.

          "Leave him here to his fate - it is getting so late!"
               The Bellman exclaimed in a fright.
          "We have lost half the day.  Any further delay,
               And we sha'nt catch a Snark before night!"



Fit the Eighth      THE VANISHING




          They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
               They pursued it with forks and hope;
          They threatened its life with a railway-share;
               They charmed it with smiles and soap.

          They shuddered to think that the chase might fail,
               And the Beaver, excited at last,
          Went bounding along on the tip of its tail,
               For the daylight was nearly past.

          "There is Thingumbob shouting!" the Bellman said,
               "He is shouting like mad, only hark!
          He is waving his hands, he is wagging his head,
               He has certainly found a Snark!"

          They gazed in delight, while the Butcher exclaimed
               "He was always a desperate wag!"
          They beheld him - their Baker - their hero unnamed -
               On the top of a neighboring crag.

          Erect and sublime, for one moment of time.
               In the next, that wild figure they saw
          (As if stung by a spasm) plunge into a chasm,
               While they waited and listened in awe.

          "It's a Snark!" was the sound that first came to their ears,
               And seemed almost too good to be true.
          Then followed a torrent of laughter and cheers:
               Then the ominous words "It's a Boo-"

          Then, silence.  Some fancied they heard in the air
               A weary and wandering sigh
          Then sounded like "-jum!" but the others declare
               It was only a breeze that went by.

          They hunted till darkness came on, but they found
               Not a button, or feather, or mark,
          By which they could tell that they stood on the ground
               Where the Baker had met with the Snark.

          In the midst of the word he was trying to say,
               In the midst of his laughter and glee,
          He had softly and suddenly vanished away- -
               For the Snark *was* a Boojum, you see.


THE END