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. "Why, 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, which seemed to be
talking in its 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 her 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. "What'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 wasting 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 teaspoon 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 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 its eyes. "I wasn't asleep," it 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 a little to fancy to herself what such an extraordinary
way 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 you
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 tea-pot.
"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 to-day. 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 set to work nibbling at the mushroom
(she had kept a piece of it in her pocket) 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.
THE QUEEN'S CROQUET GROUND
By Lewis Carroll
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, please," 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 out 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 recognized 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 THE 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 ever 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 on
their faces, so that they couldn't see it?" So she stood 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 rose-tree; 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, began screaming, "Off with her head! Off
with--"
"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, 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 croquet balls were live
hedgehogs, and the mallets live flamingoes, and the soldiers had to
double themselves up and 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 a 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 some one 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
one's self 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, coming 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 to 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 off 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 this
side of the ground." So she tucked it away under her arm, that it
might not escape again, and went back to have 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 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.)