Through the Looking Glass – Chapter One

THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS

CHAPTER ONE

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 Looking- glass 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 King, 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 Jubjub 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 tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
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! Callooh! 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.

King and Queen of Hearts Playing Cards

 Detailed images of king and queen of hearts. Also samples of playing card costumes and original illustrations from Alice in Wonderland

KING OF HEARTS

Called “Charles” on the French deck, probably after Charles the Great (Charlemagne) — or perhaps after French king Charles VII. He holds a sword. He faces forward, a little to the right. On the English deck, he also holds a sword (above his head), and both his hands are visible. Unlike the other kings, he does not have a mustache. He faces forward, a little to the left.

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QUEEN OF HEARTS
Called “Judith” on the French deck, probably after the biblical character (or perhaps after Judith of Bavaria). She faces forward, a little to the left. On the English deck, she also faces forward, a little to the left (she is not reversed with respect to the French deck).

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PLAYING CARD COSTUMES AND PHOTOS

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Easter Greeting from Lewis Carroll

 In 1876 Lewis Carroll, the author of “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, wrote this letter entitled “An Easter Greeting to Every Child Who Loves Alice.”
Dear Child,

Please to fancy, if you can, that you are reading a real letter, from a real friend whom you have seen, and whose voice you can seem to yourself to hear wishing you, as I do now with all my heart, a happy Easter.

Do you know that delicious dreamy feeling when one first wakes on a summer morning, with the twitter of birds in the air, and the fresh breeze coming in at the open window—when, lying lazily with eyes half shut, one sees as in a dream green boughs waving, or waters rippling in a golden light? It is a pleasure very near to sadness, bringing tears to one’s eyes like a beautiful picture or poem. And is not that a Mother’s gentle hand that undraws your curtains, and a Mother’s sweet voice that summons you to rise? To rise and forget, in the bright sunlight, the ugly dreams that frightened you so when all was dark—to rise and enjoy another happy day, first kneeling to thank that unseen Friend, who sends you the beautiful sun?

Are these strange words from a writer of such tales as “Alice”? And is this a strange letter to find in a book of nonsense? It may be so. Some perhaps may blame me for thus mixing together things grave and gay; others may smile and think it odd that any one should speak of solemn things at all, except in church and on a Sunday: but I think—nay, I am sure—that some children will read this gently and lovingly, and in the spirit in which I have written it.

For I do not believe God means us thus to divide life into two halves—to wear a grave face on Sunday, and to think it out-of-place to even so much as mention Him on a week-day. Do you think He cares to see only kneeling figures, and to hear only tones of prayer—and that He does not also love to see the lambs leaping in the sunlight, and to hear the merry voices of the children, as they roll among the hay? Surely their innocent laughter is as sweet in His ears as the grandest anthem that ever rolled up from the “dim religious light” of some solemn cathedral?

And if I have written anything to add to those stores of innocent and healthy amusement that are laid up in books for the children I love so well, it is surely something I may hope to look back upon without shame and sorrow (as how much of life must then be recalled!) when my turn comes to walk through the valley of shadows.

This Easter sun will rise on you, dear child, feeling your “life in every limb,” and eager to rush out into the fresh morning air—and many an Easter-day will come and go, before it finds you feeble and gray-headed, creeping wearily out to bask once more in the sunlight—but it is good, even now, to think sometimes of that great morning when the “Sun of Righteousness shall arise with healing in his wings.”

Surely your gladness need not be the less for the thought that you will one day see a brighter dawn than this—when lovelier sights will meet your eyes than any waving trees or rippling waters—when angel-hands shall undraw your curtains, and sweeter tones than ever loving Mother breathed shall wake you to a new and glorious day—and when all the sadness, and the sin, that darkened life on this little earth, shall be forgotten like the dreams of a night that is past!

Your affectionate friend,

LEWIS CARROLL.

Easter, 1876.

Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll

“Jabberwocky” is a poem of nonsense verse written by Lewis Carroll, and found as a part of his novel Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There (1871). It is generally considered to be one of the greatest nonsense poems written in the English language. This poem is used in many schools to teach students about the use of portmanteaux.

JABBERWOCKY POEMÂ

‘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 Jubjub 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 tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
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 hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! 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.

JABBERWOCKY PHOTOS AND IMAGES

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Alice In Wonderland – Complete Book Text

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is a work of children’s literature by the English mathematician and author, the Reverend Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, written under the pseudonym Lewis Carroll. It tells the story of a girl named Alice who falls down a rabbit-hole into a fantasy realm populated by grotesque figures like talking playing cards and anthropomorphic creatures.

COMPLETE TEXT FROM ALICE IN WONDERLAND
Read each chapter online

  • Chapter One – Down the Rabbit Hole
  • Chapter Two – The Pool of Tears
  • Chapter Three – A Caucus Race and a Long Tale
  • Chapter Four – The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill
  • Chapter Five – Advice from a Caterpillar
  • Chapter Six – Pig and Pepper
  • Chapter Seven – A Mad Tea Party
  • Chapter Eight – The Queen’s Croquet Ground
  • Chapter Nine – The Mock Turtle’s Story
  • Chapter Ten – The Lobster Quadrille
  • Chapter Eleven – Who Stole the Tarts?
  • Chapter Twelve -Alice’s Evidence
  • Original 1865 cover for Alice in Wonderland

    alicesadventuresinwonderland1865titlepage.jpg

    PLOT SUMMARY

    A girl named Alice is bored while on a picnic with her older sister, who is reading aloud. Alice takes interest in a passing white rabbit that is dressed in a waistcoat and muttering “Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!” She follows the rabbit down a rabbit hole, then finds herself falling down into a dreamlike world. As she continues to try to follow the rabbit, she has several adventures. She grows to gigantic size and then shrinks to a fraction of her original height, meets a group of small animals swimming in a sea of her own (previously shed) tears, and gets trapped in the rabbit’s house when she enlarges herself again. After meeting the Duchess, she carries away a baby which changes into a pig, then meets the Cheshire cat, which disappears, leaving only its smile behind. She joins the Mad Hatter and the March Hare at a never-ending tea party, goes to the seashore and meets a Gryphon and a Mock Turtle, and finally attends the trial of the Knave of Hearts, who has been accused of stealing tarts. Just as Alice defies the Queen of Hearts, the dream ends and Alice wakes up at the picnic with her sister.

    CHARACTERS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE

  • Alice
  • Alice’s Sister
  • The White Rabbit
  • Alice’s Cat, Dinah
  • The Mouse
  • The Duck
  • The Dodo
  • The Lory
  • The Eaglet
  • An old Crab and her daughter
  • An old Magpie
  • A Canary
  • Pat (The White Rabbit’s servant)
  • Bill the Lizard
  • The Puppy
  • The Caterpillar
  • The Pigeon
  • The Fish-Footman
  • The Frog-Footman
  • The Duchess
  • The Baby
  • The Cook
  • The Cheshire Cat
  • The Hatter
  • The March Hare
  • The Dormouse
  • The Queen of Hearts
  • Two, Five & Seven (cards)
  • The Knave of Hearts
  • The King of Hearts
  • The Executioner
  • The Gryphon
  • The Mock Turtle
  • The Jurors
  • POEMS AND SONGS

    * “All in the golden afternoon…” (the prefatory verse, an original poem by Carroll that recalls the rowing expedition on which he first told the story of Alice’s adventures underground)
    * “How Doth the Little Crocodile” (a parody of Isaac Watts’ nursery rhyme, “Against Idleness And Mischief”)
    * “The Mouse’s Tale” (an example of concrete poetry)
    * “You Are Old, Father William” (a parody of Robert Southey’s “The Old Man’s Comforts and How He Gained Them”)
    * The Duchess’ lullaby: “Speak roughly to your little boy…”(a parody of David Bates’ “Speak Gently”)
    * “Twinkle, twinkle little bat…” (a parody of Twinkle twinkle little star)
    * The Lobster Quadrille (a parody of Mary Botham Howitt’s “The Spider and the Fly”)
    * “‘Tis the Voice of the Lobster” (a parody of “The Sluggard”)
    * Turtle Soup (a parody of James M. Sayles’ “Star of the Evening, Beautiful Star”)
    * “The Queen of Hearts…” (an actual nursery rhyme)
    * “They told me you had been to her…” (the White Rabbit’s evidence)

    More Info on Alice in Wonderland

    Alice in Wonderland – Chapter Twelve

    CHAPTER XII – Final Chapter
    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.

    Giant Alice upsets the jury (literally)

    `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.

    King reflecting in court

    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!’

    “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

    Alice in Wonderland – Chapter Eleven

    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.

    King and Queen inspecting tart in courtroom

    `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!’

    White Rabbit, dressed as herald, blowing trumpet

    `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.’

    Mad Hatter arrives hastily in court to testify

    `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 from 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!’ the March Hare interrupted in a great hurry.

    `You did!’ said the Hatter.

    `I deny it!’ said the March Hare.

    `He denies 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 as hastily leaves

    `–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!’

    Next chapter: Alice’s Evidence

    Alice in Wonderland – Chapter Ten

    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.

    `Turn a somersault in the sea!’ cried the Mock Turtle, capering wildly about.

    `Change lobster’s again!’ yelled the Gryphon at the top of its voice.

    `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.’

    Mock Turtle and Gryphon singing to Alice

    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!’

    Mock Turtle and Gryphon demonstrating the Lobster Quadrille to Alice

    `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.’

    Lobster primping before a mirror

    [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 tone, `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!’

    Next chapter: Who Stole the Tarts?