A LOOKING-GLASS VISIT
It was one of those warm spells that turn up so unexpectedly in winter,
and that almost make you believe that you’ve slept right through the
cold months, and that spring is sitting out there in the sun, ready to
begin her immortal business of turning the earth into grass and leaves
and flowers. But of course she isn’t, and often the next day will be so
freezing, blowy, grey and grim that you go about smiling scornfully, as
well as you can for a stiff face and chattering teeth, and saying to
yourself that never, NEVER will you let yourself be fooled again.
But of course you are.
Anyhow, this was a real spring-feeling day, and Rose and Ruth whooped
with delight when their Dad told them they might ride out on the range
with him and have a camp-fire lunch. Then they must ride straight back
alone.
They were used to that, however, and liked the excitement of riding
alone across the mesa and down through the shallow cañon that brought
them in sight of their home.
The warm wave had swept most of the snow away, though there were streaks
of it left in all the shaded spots. And oh, but the prairie wind was
sweet as it blew into their faces.
Pink-faced and laughing, they reined in their cow-ponies at the turn of
the trail to wave farewell to Marmie, who stood at the open door
flapping a dish-cloth in return. Dad let out a huge yell, and the
dish-cloth flapped harder than ever. Then they set the broncos to
loping, and soon even the cottonwoods had disappeared from sight behind
the rocky shoulder that guarded the beginning of the cañon.
A glorious morning they had of it. Dad let them race up on the mesa,
timing them, while Jim and Hank, two of the boys, shouted cheers. Rose
came in only the least bit ahead, and that was because Ruth had to
swerve away from a prairie dog hole. And then the lunch!
“Marmie knows what we can hold after riding all morning, doesn’t she,
Dad,” grunted Ruth, surveying the wreck of tin cans, paper packages,
chicken bones and sardine boxes which were the sole survivors of a
sumptuous feast.
“She sure does,” agreed Dad. “But how a pindling little thing like you
can hold the half of what you’ve put away beats me.”
“I’m not pindling,” asserted Ruth indignantly, throwing herself
forthwith upon her father and belabouring him with both fists, in which
exercise she was immediately joined by her sister, and what a grand
scrimmage the three of them had. Finally they got Dad flat on the ground
and both sat on him, panting but triumphant. When he suddenly sprang
right up on his feet, sending them rolling, while he roared with
delighted laughter.
“I may be old and tuckered out but I can send you two spinning like
tops,” he jeered.
“Dad, you aren’t a bit old,” Rose declared anxiously. “You’re the
youngest father in the world.”
At that he laughed some more, and then told them they must set off for
home or Marmie would be worried.
The wind was blowing up colder as they rode back. But in their sheepskin
coats they were cosy enough, and jogged along cheerily over the brown,
dry grass. It was a six or seven mile ride, so they went easily, for
they had ridden a lot that day.
“Some little girls don’t ever ride,” Ruth said. “Wouldn’t it seem funny
not to have any horses, and to walk whenever you went anywhere.”
“They go in cars,” said Rose. “Electric cars, you know.”
“I’d like to see a electric car,” Ruth returned, rather uncertainly. “It
must be like magic, Rose.”
Rose nodded. “But not so magic as our fairy.”
“Oh, no-o! Do you know, I dreamed about our fairy last night, and she
told me she was coming to see us to-day. I wonder if she will. Wouldn’t
it be fine, just when we’ll be feeling like sitting by the fire and
making believe, after all this riding!”
“I wonder if she could take us to see any little girl we wanted to
choose, Ruth?”
Ruth looked big-eyed at that.
“We never asked her that. Who would you like to see?”
“I’d like to go to visit Alice.”
“Alice?”
“Alice in Wonderland, of course. Wouldn’t you?”
Ruth fairly gasped.
“Wouldn’t it be simply corking! Get along, Chump, what’s the matter with
you?” This to her pony, who had shied at an old log by the trail.
“Why, perhaps she would take us through the Looking-Glass! Haven’t you
always just yearned to find our big mirror all misty, so’s you could
climb through it the way she climbed through hers? Rose, let’s ask the
fairy the very next time she comes.”
“That’s what I mean to do. But remember that this is my own idea,
Ruthsy, and let me do the asking.”
[Illustration:
“YOU SEE,” THEY BOTH REMARKED CONFIDENTIALLY, “WE KNEW ALICE, SO OF
COURSE WE HAD TO CHOOSE YOU”
]
Ruth was quite willing. And when the two girls reached home, and had
unsaddled their mounts and tied them up in the barn, with plenty of hay
to chew on, they ran eagerly into the house, feeling that the fairy
might be waiting for them. But Marmie met them at the door, and in the
excitement of telling all about the ride, and the race, and how good the
lunch was, they forgot the fairy.
It wasn’t till after supper that they found themselves alone in the
living room, snuggled cosily before the fire, deliciously tired after
their energetic day. And then, before they had a chance to remember that
they were expecting to see, or at least to hear, her, there she was:
“A penny for your thoughts,” said that chiming, crystal voice, close
beside Ruth.
Ruth jumped, and then laughed. “You darling fairy, how you startled me,”
she exclaimed. “And how wonderful of you to come. Rose and I’ve been
longing for you all day.”
“Were you thinking of me just now?” the fairy asked.
“N-no. I wasn’t thinking at all. I was feeling warm....”
“Me too,” agreed Rose. “Warm and lazy.”
“Altogether too lazy for a little visit with me, I suppose?”
And then the idea flashed back into Rose’s mind.
“Of course we aren’t! And oh, fairy, could you take us to see Alice in
Wonderland?”
“I don’t see why not. But you must both be very nice little girls with
Alice. None of your Jiminy Cripseys, Rose, and neither of you must jump
up and down and scream or run wild races. Alice is the best mannered
little girl beyond the Magic Gate.”
“We’ll be ever so good, fairy. Crikey, perhaps we’ll see the White
Knight or the Walrus and the Carpenter.” Rose spoke as though the two
latter were one.
“There you go,” warned the fairy, in a smiling kind of voice. “What do
you suppose Alice would make of ‘Crikey’?”
Ruth laughed, and so did Rose after a moment. “I guess she’ll think I’m
a sort of monster too,” she said. “But that’s the _last_. Cross my
heart.”
“Well, off with us, then,” said the fairy. She took the children by the
hand, while they shut their eyes tight. And then, with a drop and a
jerk, she let them go.
They opened their eyes to find themselves in a large, square,
comfortable room, with big easy chairs standing on either side of a
fireplace, in which burned a bright coal fire. On the mantelpiece were a
clock and two vases, under glass domes. Round the room were low
bookcases well filled with books, there was a round table near the
middle, and other chairs and furniture, a bright coal-scuttle and fire
irons, and on a low table near the fire a tea-tray with tea and cakes
and sandwiches. Standing on the rug before the fire was Alice, her hands
behind her back, watching a black and a white kitten playing together.
But the minute the girls’ eyes fell on her she looked up with a
delighted smile.
“I’m so glad you could come,” she said. “Please, tea is ready. Of course
it’s _mostly_ milk. Let’s have some right off, for I know I want it and
I’m sure you do too.”
Rose and Ruth nodded, drawing nearer. The kittens ran after a ball,
thumping along with heavy sounding feet, like little lions. All three
children laughed.
“That’s much better,” said Alice, cheerfully. “Now we won’t be a bit shy
any more. Will you begin with sandwiches, and have cake later?”
They would. And as they ate and drank, they noticed that they were all
dressed in neat little gowns with short puffed sleeves, and wore aprons
with a ruffle. Their hair was brushed back and held by a ribbon tied on
top of their heads in a neat bow, and on their feet were striped
stockings and heelless black slippers.
“It must be nice to be Alice in Wonderland,” Rose said, munching a piece
of plum-cake with great care not to drop any crumbs. “Do you go there
much?”
“Oh, yes, indeed. I’m always running over, or else stepping through the
Looking-Glass. It gets to be a habit, you know.”
“Can we all go after we’ve had our tea?” asked Ruth, a little anxiously,
for they seemed so settled that she could hardly believe they would do
anything so wonderful as get to Wonderland.
“Would you like to?” cried Alice, excitedly. “Oh, how perfectly
splendid. You see, I’ve never had any little girls to play with, or to
go _there_ with. I’m always alone. And it would be so nice if you would
come with me this time.”
“That’s just how it is with us. We haven’t any little girl friends
either, and that’s why the fairy takes us with her through the Magic
Gate ... that’s how we got here, you know.”
Alice looked interested, finishing her tea quickly.
“So that’s how you came? Not through a mirror or a hole in the ground?”
“We’ve often tried to get through our big glass in the hall,” said Ruth,
“but it never will soften up for us. And the prairie dog holes aren’t
big enough to go down.”
Just at this moment the two kittens, racing after each other, jumped up
on the table, then to the mantelpiece, and then right through the
mirror.
“Oh, my, the kittens will be lost,” exclaimed Alice, and there she was,
up on the mantelpiece herself, and going through after her pets. Rose
and Ruth followed without an instant’s hesitation.
As they jumped down on the opposite side, into Looking-Glass Land, they
saw Alice running through the door; as she went out she turned and
beckoned them.
They hastened after her, and gave a little gasp as they found themselves
walking hand in hand with her through a green meadow. Nearby a cow
looked at them thoughtfully.
“Why, I didn’t know there was a cow here,” Rose remarked, surprised.
“That’s true,” murmured the cow, in a vexed way, and immediately
disappeared.
“Dear me, I wonder where she went,” said Alice.
“She went to ruminate, if you know where that is,” remarked a voice
behind them. They turned and found the Red Queen, looking at them
severely.
“It isn’t a place, is it?” Ruth ventured.
“Well, what sort of thing is it, then?”
“Why, I don’t think it’s a thing, either,” Rose put in.
“Ridiculous. Must be a thing or a place or a person. I suppose next
you’ll say it’s me, or you. But where are your goloshes?”
“Goloshes,” the three replied. “Why, you don’t need goloshes unless the
ground is wet.”
“Where I was brought up, goloshes have nothing to do with the ground,”
returned the Red Queen. “They are for you. Just look at your feet!”
“It does seem as though they were wet,” Alice said, in a puzzled voice,
lifting up first one foot and then the other. Rose and Ruth looked
quickly at their own shoes. To their surprise they were sopping wet.
“Isn’t that extraordinary,” Rose exclaimed. “Why, I don’t remember that
we went through a puddle!”
The Red Queen laughed scornfully. “Next time you’ll wear your goloshes,
I hope. And now take off your shoes and stockings. Walking barefoot will
help you grow.”
“Does it?” asked Ruth, as the three little girls sat down and joyfully
pulled off their shoes and stockings, for who doesn’t love to walk
barefoot in short fine grass! “I don’t see why it should.”
“Whys should be asked, not seen,” the Red Queen retorted. “And that
reminds me....” With the last word she turned on her pedestal, and
jumping about a foot into the air, rapidly glided out of sight.
Rose and Ruth and Alice continued their walk across the meadow. The two
visitors had lots of questions to ask, and Alice chatted back gleefully.
“It is so very nice having you with me,” she said. “I’ve been lonely so
much, and I’ve wished so hard that some other little girl would only go
through the Looking-Glass or into Wonderland with me. You see, talking
things over is half the fun, and now we can talk everything over as we
go along—I wonder why the grass looks so far away——”
To be sure it did.
“We—we’ve grown, just as the Red Queen said we would, only how fast,”
quavered Rose, a good deal disturbed. “Do you suppose it really is going
barefoot that’s done it?”
“Do you know,” Alice replied, “Looking-Glass Land and Wonderland have
got mixed up. We’re popping up and down just as I always do in
Wonderland. But it _is_ nice up here, isn’t it?”
Indeed it was. The view was so fine. By this time all three of the
little girls were at least twenty feet high, and they were still
growing.
“Well, we aren’t _little_ girls any longer,” Ruth remarked, “though I
feel like one the same as ever, don’t you? Why, it’s like climbing a
hill, only ever so much faster! Look over there. Isn’t it a village? And
see what a crowd of people. Let’s go.”
“I think we’d better try to grow down a bit,” said Alice. “You see, if
we get among those people while we are so tall they may not like it.”
“Yes, but how are we to grow small?” Rose wanted to know, in a worried
tone.
“Put on your shoes and stockings, stupid,” said a voice, and there was
the Red Queen whirling past them in the air.
“I suppose it might be worth trying,” Alice remarked, “if we can get
them on. They look very tiny,” and she held hers up. They looked exactly
as though they had been made for a doll, and the three girls burst out
laughing.
“Talk about wearing shoes too small for you,” Rose gurgled, examining
her own bits of slippers. “But there’s nothing like trying.”
They sat down carefully, so as not to crush any more shrubbery than
possible, for they had left the meadow behind them and were on a
sparsely wooded hillside. And wonderful to say, as soon as they began to
put on the tiny shoes and stockings their feet shrank to the proper size
and they too. So in a minute or two they were all little girls again,
and they started merrily down the hill in the direction where the
village lay.
“You know, it’s awfully handy to be able to grow up like that just by
taking off your shoes and stockings,” said Rose. “Just think, if you
want to talk with some one upstairs when you’re playing outdoors, all
you need to do is to pull them off, and then lean in at the window. How
surprised people would be for a while, till they got used to it.”
At this moment there was a rustle in the bushes beside the path the
girls were following, and the White Rabbit stepped out.
“How do you do, Alice? Are these little girls friends?”
“Oh, yes. This is Ruth and this is Rose, Mr. Rabbit.”
“I’m glad you did that. So many people hyphen me,” said the White
Rabbit, in a pleased voice.
“Hyphen you?”
“Yes, and it’s an affectation I can’t abide. Very nice little girls, I’m
sure.” Here, to the delight of Rose and Ruth, he pulled out his watch
and gave it an anxious look. “Bless my stars!” he exclaimed, “I’m going
to be late again.”
With that he turned and whisked out of sight in no time at all.
“How sudden people are here,” complained Ruth. “Just when you really
think of something you want to say, they hurry away—and so fast!”
“It is rather provoking of them,” Alice agreed, in her quiet way. “But
see, here we are at the village already.”
And so they were. In fact, they were right in the middle of it, though
none of them had noticed arriving. They were in a square, with a bit of
lawn in the centre where Rose felt relieved to see the cow peacefully
grazing. Around the square was a row of little houses looking just like
Noah’s Arks, with hinges on the roofs, and long ladders leading up.
Several of the roofs were raised and from beneath them looked out the
various creatures that belonged in Wonderland. Ruth pointed out the Mock
Turtle excitedly. It was leading out from one of the houses, trying to
arrange the ladder, while big tears rolled down its cheeks. Each time it
almost got the ladder properly adjusted, it would raise one of its
flippers to wipe its eyes, and let the ladder slip again.
The square was already fairly crowded, with new creatures crowding down
the ladders every minute.
“There is the White Knight,” said Alice, in Rose’s ear. “Let’s go over
and see if he has any new inventions.” Ruth had gone to the assistance
of the Mock Turtle, and was holding the ladder while he struggled to
climb out from his house.
The White Knight was sitting his horse at the edge of the grassplot. He
had taken off his helmet, and was wiping his forehead with a huge
handkerchief, while slowly shaking his head.
As Alice and Rose came up he smiled at them, pushing back his shaggy
hair with both hands, just as he used to do.
“It’s very nice to see you both here,” he began. “Did you——” but his
horse, which had been grazing quietly, just then took a step forward,
and the Knight promptly fell off. Rose and Alice both hurried to help
him to his feet.
“Won’t you stand with us a little while, instead of mounting again?”
Alice asked. “You see, we sha’n’t waste so much time.”
“It’s better than wasting shoes,” the White Knight objected. “There’s so
much more of it, you know.”
“Do tell us,” Alice put in hastily, “have you invented anything new
lately?”
A gratified look passed over the Knight’s gentle face.
“Yes,” he answered. “I’ve been working on it a long, long time—that’s
why I know there’s so much, you see—and now it’s all done but the
making. I haven’t quite decided how to _make_ it yet.”
“But isn’t that the most important part?” asked Rose.
“Well, of course, it _has_ its importance,” the Knight replied, looking
vexed, “but after all the inventing is the main thing, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Alice agreed, and then she whispered to Rose,
“One can’t argue with him at all, he doesn’t understand it. And he gets
_so_ troubled, poor old thing.”
Rose nodded, smiling. “Could you tell us just what the invention is?”
she went on, turning to the Knight.
“Well, perhaps not just what it _is_,” he said. “But I might tell you
about what it’s _for_.”
Rose began to feel bewildered.
“Please do,” she answered.
“It’s a trap for ideas,” replied the Knight, in a weak voice. “You see,
so many ideas run wild, and if only they could be trapped we could tame
them and use them.... You haven’t any wild ideas, have you?” he added
this anxiously.
“Why, Marmie tells me I have,” Rose returned, “but I don’t see exactly
how one could trap them.”
“Not one—no, not one. But several might. And that’s just where my
invention comes in.”
At this moment Ruth came running up.
“Oh, girls,” she called, “the Mock Turtle is going to give a dance, and
he’s asking all the rest, and us, too. So come over, it’s going to be
such fun!”
“A dance,” said the White Knight, sorrowfully. “If it were only a song!
You know I can sing tunes of my own invention,” he added, turning to
Rose. “But it’s very exhausting, and the Mock Turtle has no real
stamina.”
The three girls shook hands with him gravely, and he walked to his
horse, that had been quietly cropping grass all this while.
“I’ll send you one of my traps as soon as it’s made,” he called back to
Rose.
“Thank you ever so much,” she answered, and then the three girls
hastened toward the house of the Mock Turtle, before which a large and
strange crowd was collected.
There was the Gentleman dressed in white paper with his friend the Goat
in spectacles, walking about arm in arm and apparently discussing the
contents of a newspaper from which the Gentleman in white paper read
aloud bits of news. Rose heard him read an item that sounded like this:
“Billing and Cooing are to play the finals next Tuesday of the past
week. A large and enthusiastic crowd cheered the victor, whose name we
hope to secure the instant it is known.”
“Perfectly ridiculous,” grunted the Goat. “I might be supposed to know
_something_ of Billing, mightn’t I? Well, it’s poppycock, that’s what it
is.”
At this moment the cow slipped an arm—or it must have been a leg, Rose
thought later, into the one not taken by the Goat, and leaned
affectionately over the Gentleman in white paper.
“And who knows about Cooing if not I?” she whispered, but in so loud a
way that Rose couldn’t help hearing. “And I tell you it’s false as
moonshine.”
Humpty Dumpty and Tweedledum and Tweedledee were all three sitting in a
row on the coping in front of the Mock Turtle’s house. They were panting
and fanning themselves, and they smiled amiably at the three girls.
“Have you learnt how to be real yet?” asked Tweedledee, in a loud voice.
“Or contrariwise?” demanded his brother.
“It’s your turn,” announced Humpty Dumpty.
But the girls couldn’t stop there. They wanted to join the dancers, who
were spinning round and round in the dizziest, jolliest sort of a way in
the middle of the square. The grass had vanished and in its place was a
round shining floor, that looked like ice.
The White Rabbit was dancing with the White Queen, looking very pleased
indeed and taking a lot of fancy steps. The Gryphon and the White Knight
were doing a kind of breakdown and falling down flat every few seconds,
while the Frog Footman looked on and shook his head dubiously. The old
lady Sheep, with her knitting in her hands, was twirling about by
herself in the most remarkable way, while the Lion and the Unicorn
hopped about with the Red Queen, who seemed to be in a very bad temper,
for she scowled first at one and then at the other ferociously, and each
of the big creatures fairly trembled under her glances.
But as soon as they saw Alice they dropped the Queen and rushed up.
“Why, here’s the Monster,” they roared, smiling in the largest kind of
manner. “And other Monsters! Come on, the dance is beginning.”
Rose found herself whirling round and round in the Lion’s grasp, while
the Unicorn chose Ruth.
“You see,” they both remarked, confidentially, “we knew Alice, so of
course we _had_ to choose you.”
As for Alice, she and the Red Queen came flying behind, barely touching
the ice-like floor as they twirled. And after them came all the strange
and unreal creatures of the Looking-Glass and Wonderland. Round and
round they danced, like leaves in autumn.
Suddenly Rose and Ruth found themselves at the head of the whole crowd,
who were ranged behind them in double column, Alice and the White Rabbit
being next them. As the music struck up louder than ever—and somehow
they hadn’t noticed music till now, when it seemed to come from
everywhere at once—Alice leaned toward them.
“Teach them the Indian dance,” she whispered, “only hurry, HURRY!”
For a second Rose and Ruth didn’t grasp her meaning. Then they
remembered that they knew a war dance taught them by a young Sioux who
had herded for their father last summer. Rose let out a wild Indian
war-whoop, echoed by Ruth, and crouching down and doubling their fists,
the two girls commenced to step and circle, at first slowly, then faster
and faster. Behind them stretched the motley gathering. Some one was
throwing Bill the Lizard high into the air. The Red and the White Queen
both had feathers stuck into their crowns, like an Indian head-dress.
Wild yells resounded here and there from the stamping throng....
“Good-bye, dears, wasn’t it lovely?” Alice said, her arms round their
necks, as they stood, bewildered, on the rug before the fire, looking so
neat and English in its tidy grate....
But hold on! It wasn’t Alice’s fireplace before which they found
themselves. It was their own and Marmie was coming in with a pitcher of
lemonade and a cake on a tray.
“I’ve got a treat for you, girlies,” she said. “Are you all tired out by
your long ride to-day?”