diff --git a/romanova_adelina_lab_7/README.md b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fa60334 --- /dev/null +++ b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,52 @@ +# Лабораторная работа №7. Вариант 21 + +## Тема + +Рекуррентная нейронная сеть и задача генерации текста + +## Задание + +- Выбрать художественный текст и обучить на нем рекуррентную нейронную сеть для решения задачи генерации. + +- Подобрать архитектуру и параметры так, чтобы приблизиться к максимально осмысленному результату. + +## Используемые ресурсы + + 1.  Художественный текст на английском языке ```wonderland.txt``` + + 2.  Python-скрипты: ```generate.py```, ```model.py```, ```train.py```. + +## Описание работы + +### Подготовка данных: +В файле ```train.py``` реализована функция ```get_data```, которая загружает художественный текст, приводит его к нижнему регистру, и создает сопоставление символов числовым значениям. + +Текст разбивается на последовательности фиксированной длины ```seq_length```, и каждая последовательность связывается с символом, следующим за ней. + +Данные приводятся к тензорам PyTorch и нормализуются для обучения модели. + +### Архитектура модели: + +В файле ```model.py``` определен класс ```CharModel```, наследуемый от ```nn.Module``` и представляющий собой рекуррентную нейронную сеть. + +Архитектура модели включает в себя один слой LSTM с размером скрытого состояния 256, слой dropout для регуляризации и линейный слой для вывода результатов. + +### Обучение модели: + +В файле ```train.py``` реализован скрипт для обучения модели. Выбрана оптимизация Adam, функция потерь - ```CrossEntropyLoss```. + +Обучение происходит на GPU, если он доступен. Обучение проводится в течение нескольких эпох, с валидацией на каждой эпохе. Сохраняется лучшая модель. + +Процесс обучения модели: + +![](train_process.png "") + +### Генерация текста: + +В файле ```generate.py``` модель загружается из сохраненного состояния. Генерируется случайный промпт из исходного текста, и модель используется для предсказания следующего символа в цикле. + +## Вывод: + +![](generated_text.png "") + +В сгенерированном тексте можно найти осмысленные участки, поэтому можно сделать вывод, что модель действительно хорошо обучилась. diff --git a/romanova_adelina_lab_7/generate.py b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/generate.py new file mode 100644 index 0000000..af35dff --- /dev/null +++ b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/generate.py @@ -0,0 +1,46 @@ +import torch +from model import CharModel +import numpy as np + +if __name__ == "__main__": + best_model, char_to_int = torch.load("single-char.pth") + n_vocab = len(char_to_int) + int_to_char = dict((i, c) for c, i in char_to_int.items()) + + + model = CharModel() + model.load_state_dict(best_model) + + # randomly generate a prompt + filename = "wonderland.txt" + seq_length = 100 + raw_text = open(filename, 'r', encoding='utf-8').read() + raw_text = raw_text.lower() + + start = np.random.randint(0, len(raw_text)-seq_length) + prompt = raw_text[start:start+seq_length] + pattern = [char_to_int[c] for c in prompt] + + model.eval() + print(f'Prompt:\n{prompt}') + print("==="*15, "Сгенерированный результ", "==="*15, sep=" ") + + with torch.no_grad(): + for i in range(1000): + # format input array of int into PyTorch tensor + x = np.reshape(pattern, (1, len(pattern), 1)) / float(n_vocab) + x = torch.tensor(x, dtype=torch.float32) + # generate logits as output from the model + prediction = model(x) + # convert logits into one character + index = int(prediction.argmax()) + result = int_to_char[index] + print(result, end="") + # append the new character into the prompt for the next iteration + pattern.append(index) + pattern = pattern[1:] + + print() + print("==="*30) + print("Done.") + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/romanova_adelina_lab_7/generated_text.png b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/generated_text.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..76cedc3 Binary files /dev/null and b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/generated_text.png differ diff --git a/romanova_adelina_lab_7/model.py b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/model.py new file mode 100644 index 0000000..55d92b8 --- /dev/null +++ b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/model.py @@ -0,0 +1,16 @@ +import torch.nn as nn + + +class CharModel(nn.Module): + def __init__(self, n_vocab): + super().__init__() + self.lstm = nn.LSTM(input_size=1, hidden_size=256, num_layers=1, batch_first=True) + self.dropout = nn.Dropout(0.2) + self.linear = nn.Linear(256, n_vocab) + def forward(self, x): + x, _ = self.lstm(x) + # take only the last output + x = x[:, -1, :] + # produce output + x = self.linear(self.dropout(x)) + return x \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/romanova_adelina_lab_7/single-char.pth b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/single-char.pth new file mode 100644 index 0000000..be73ac9 Binary files /dev/null and b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/single-char.pth differ diff --git a/romanova_adelina_lab_7/train.py b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/train.py new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f321689 --- /dev/null +++ b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/train.py @@ -0,0 +1,86 @@ +import numpy as np +import torch.nn as nn +import torch.optim as optim +import torch.utils.data as data +import torch +from model import CharModel + + +def get_data(filename="wonderland.txt"): + # загружаем датасет и приводим к нижнему регистру + filename = "wonderland.txt" + raw_text = open(filename, 'r', encoding='utf-8').read() + raw_text = raw_text.lower() + + # делаем сопоставление текста с соответствующим ему значением + chars = sorted(list(set(raw_text))) + char_to_int = dict((c, i) for i, c in enumerate(chars)) + + # статистика обучаемых данных + n_chars = len(raw_text) + n_vocab = len(chars) + print("Total Characters: ", n_chars) + print("Total Vocab: ", n_vocab) + + # подготовка датасета + seq_length = 100 + dataX = [] + dataY = [] + for i in range(0, n_chars - seq_length, 1): + seq_in = raw_text[i:i + seq_length] + seq_out = raw_text[i + seq_length] + dataX.append([char_to_int[char] for char in seq_in]) + dataY.append(char_to_int[seq_out]) + n_patterns = len(dataX) + print("Total Patterns: ", n_patterns) + + # --- переводим данные к тензору, чтобы рабоать с ними внутри pytorch --- + X = torch.tensor(dataX, dtype=torch.float32).reshape(n_patterns, seq_length, 1) + X = X / float(n_vocab) + y = torch.tensor(dataY) + print(X.shape, y.shape) + + return X, y, char_to_int + + +def main(): + X, y, char_to_int = get_data() + + n_epochs = 40 + batch_size = 128 + model = CharModel() + device = torch.device("cuda:0" if torch.cuda.is_available() else "cpu") + print(f"device: {device}") + model.to(device) + + optimizer = optim.Adam(model.parameters()) + loss_fn = nn.CrossEntropyLoss(reduction="sum") + loader = data.DataLoader(data.TensorDataset(X, y), shuffle=True, batch_size=batch_size) + + best_model = None + best_loss = np.inf + + for epoch in range(n_epochs): + model.train() + for X_batch, y_batch in loader: + y_pred = model(X_batch.to(device)) + loss = loss_fn(y_pred, y_batch.to(device)) + + optimizer.zero_grad() + loss.backward() + optimizer.step() + + # Validation + model.eval() + loss = 0 + with torch.no_grad(): + for X_batch, y_batch in loader: + y_pred = model(X_batch.to(device)) + loss += loss_fn(y_pred, y_batch.to(device)) + if loss < best_loss: + best_loss = loss + best_model = model.state_dict() + print("Epoch %d: Cross-entropy: %.4f" % (epoch, loss)) + + torch.save([best_model, char_to_int], "single-char.pth") + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/romanova_adelina_lab_7/train_process.png b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/train_process.png new file mode 100644 index 0000000..86634af Binary files /dev/null and b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/train_process.png differ diff --git a/romanova_adelina_lab_7/wonderland.txt b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/wonderland.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a53b3e --- /dev/null +++ b/romanova_adelina_lab_7/wonderland.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3375 @@ +Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland + +by Lewis Carroll + +THE MILLENNIUM FULCRUM EDITION 3.0 + +Contents + + CHAPTER I. Down the Rabbit-Hole + CHAPTER II. The Pool of Tears + CHAPTER III. A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale + CHAPTER IV. The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill + CHAPTER V. Advice from a Caterpillar + CHAPTER VI. Pig and Pepper + CHAPTER VII. A Mad Tea-Party + CHAPTER VIII. The Queen’s Croquet-Ground + CHAPTER IX. The Mock Turtle’s Story + CHAPTER X. The Lobster Quadrille + CHAPTER XI. Who Stole the Tarts? + CHAPTER XII. Alice’s Evidence + + + + +CHAPTER I. +Down the Rabbit-Hole + + +Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the +bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into +the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or +conversations in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice +“without pictures or conversations?” + +So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the +hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of +making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and +picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran +close by her. + +There was nothing so _very_ remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it +so _very_ much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, “Oh +dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!” (when she thought it over afterwards, +it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the +time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually _took a +watch out of its waistcoat-pocket_, and looked at it, and then hurried +on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she +had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a +watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the +field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a +large rabbit-hole under the hedge. + +In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how +in the world she was to get out again. + +The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then +dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think +about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very +deep well. + +Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had +plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what +was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out +what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she +looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with +cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures +hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she +passed; it was labelled “ORANGE MARMALADE”, but to her great +disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear +of killing somebody underneath, so managed to put it into one of the +cupboards as she fell past it. + +“Well!” thought Alice to herself, “after such a fall as this, I shall +think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they’ll all think me +at home! Why, I wouldn’t say anything about it, even if I fell off the +top of the house!” (Which was very likely true.) + +Down, down, down. Would the fall _never_ come to an end? “I wonder how +many miles I’ve fallen by this time?” she said aloud. “I must be +getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that would +be four thousand miles down, I think—” (for, you see, Alice had learnt +several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and +though this was not a _very_ good opportunity for showing off her +knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good +practice to say it over) “—yes, that’s about the right distance—but +then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I’ve got to?” (Alice had no +idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but thought they were nice +grand words to say.) + +Presently she began again. “I wonder if I shall fall right _through_ +the earth! How funny it’ll seem to come out among the people that walk +with their heads downward! The Antipathies, I think—” (she was rather +glad there _was_ no one listening, this time, as it didn’t sound at all +the right word) “—but I shall have to ask them what the name of the +country is, you know. Please, Ma’am, is this New Zealand or Australia?” +(and she tried to curtsey as she spoke—fancy _curtseying_ as you’re +falling through the air! Do you think you could manage it?) “And what +an ignorant little girl she’ll think me for asking! No, it’ll never do +to ask: perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.” + +Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began +talking again. “Dinah’ll miss me very much to-night, I should think!” +(Dinah was the cat.) “I hope they’ll remember her saucer of milk at +tea-time. Dinah my dear! I wish you were down here with me! There are +no mice in the air, I’m afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that’s +very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?” And here +Alice began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a +dreamy sort of way, “Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats?” and +sometimes, “Do bats eat cats?” for, you see, as she couldn’t answer +either question, it didn’t much matter which way she put it. She felt +that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was +walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very earnestly, +“Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did you ever eat a bat?” when suddenly, +thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and +the fall was over. + +Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: +she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another +long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down +it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind, +and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner, “Oh my ears +and whiskers, how late it’s getting!” She was close behind it when she +turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she found +herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging +from the roof. + +There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked; and when +Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every +door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to +get out again. + +Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid +glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, and Alice’s +first thought was that it might belong to one of the doors of the hall; +but, alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, +but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second +time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and +behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she tried the +little golden key in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted! + +Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not +much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the +passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get +out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright +flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head +through the doorway; “and even if my head would go through,” thought +poor Alice, “it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, +how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only +knew how to begin.” For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had +happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things +indeed were really impossible. + +There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went +back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at +any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this +time she found a little bottle on it, (“which certainly was not here +before,” said Alice,) and round the neck of the bottle was a paper +label, with the words “DRINK ME,” beautifully printed on it in large +letters. + +It was all very well to say “Drink me,” but the wise little Alice was +not going to do _that_ in a hurry. “No, I’ll look first,” she said, +“and see whether it’s marked ‘_poison_’ or not”; for she had read +several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and +eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they +_would_ not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: +such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; +and that if you cut your finger _very_ deeply with a knife, it usually +bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a +bottle marked “poison,” it is almost certain to disagree with you, +sooner or later. + +However, this bottle was _not_ marked “poison,” so Alice ventured to +taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed +flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and +hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off. + +* * * * * * * + + * * * * * * + +* * * * * * * + + +“What a curious feeling!” said Alice; “I must be shutting up like a +telescope.” + +And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face +brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going +through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she +waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further: +she felt a little nervous about this; “for it might end, you know,” +said Alice to herself, “in my going out altogether, like a candle. I +wonder what I should be like then?” And she tried to fancy what the +flame of a candle is like after the candle is blown out, for she could +not remember ever having seen such a thing. + +After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going +into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when she got to the +door, she found she had forgotten the little golden key, and when she +went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach +it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her +best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; +and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing +sat down and cried. + +“Come, there’s no use in crying like that!” said Alice to herself, +rather sharply; “I advise you to leave off this minute!” She generally +gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it), +and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into +her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having +cheated herself in a game of croquet she was playing against herself, +for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. +“But it’s no use now,” thought poor Alice, “to pretend to be two +people! Why, there’s hardly enough of me left to make _one_ respectable +person!” + +Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: +she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words +“EAT ME” were beautifully marked in currants. “Well, I’ll eat it,” said +Alice, “and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it +makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I’ll +get into the garden, and I don’t care which happens!” + +She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, “Which way? Which +way?”, holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was +growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same +size: to be sure, this generally happens when one eats cake, but Alice +had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way +things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go +on in the common way. + +So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake. + +* * * * * * * + + * * * * * * + +* * * * * * * + + + + +CHAPTER II. +The Pool of Tears + + +“Curiouser and curiouser!” cried Alice (she was so much surprised, that +for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good English); “now I’m +opening out like the largest telescope that ever was! Good-bye, feet!” +(for when she looked down at her feet, they seemed to be almost out of +sight, they were getting so far off). “Oh, my poor little feet, I +wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears? I’m +sure _I_ shan’t be able! I shall be a great deal too far off to trouble +myself about you: you must manage the best way you can;—but I must be +kind to them,” thought Alice, “or perhaps they won’t walk the way I +want to go! Let me see: I’ll give them a new pair of boots every +Christmas.” + +And she went on planning to herself how she would manage it. “They must +go by the carrier,” she thought; “and how funny it’ll seem, sending +presents to one’s own feet! And how odd the directions will look! + + _Alice’s Right Foot, Esq., Hearthrug, near the Fender,_ (_with + Alice’s love_). + +Oh dear, what nonsense I’m talking!” + +Just then her head struck against the roof of the hall: in fact she was +now more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the little golden +key and hurried off to the garden door. + +Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to +look through into the garden with one eye; but to get through was more +hopeless than ever: she sat down and began to cry again. + +“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” said Alice, “a great girl like +you,” (she might well say this), “to go on crying in this way! Stop +this moment, I tell you!” But she went on all the same, shedding +gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all round her, about +four inches deep and reaching half down the hall. + +After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and +she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the White +Rabbit returning, splendidly dressed, with a pair of white kid gloves +in one hand and a large fan in the other: he came trotting along in a +great hurry, muttering to himself as he came, “Oh! the Duchess, the +Duchess! Oh! won’t she be savage if I’ve kept her waiting!” Alice felt +so desperate that she was ready to ask help of any one; so, when the +Rabbit came near her, she began, in a low, timid voice, “If you please, +sir—” The Rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid gloves and +the fan, and skurried away into the darkness as hard as he could go. + +Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was very hot, she +kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking: “Dear, dear! How +queer everything is to-day! And yesterday things went on just as usual. +I wonder if I’ve been changed in the night? Let me think: was I the +same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling +a little different. But if I’m not the same, the next question is, Who +in the world am I? Ah, _that’s_ the great puzzle!” And she began +thinking over all the children she knew that were of the same age as +herself, to see if she could have been changed for any of them. + +“I’m sure I’m not Ada,” she said, “for her hair goes in such long +ringlets, and mine doesn’t go in ringlets at all; and I’m sure I can’t +be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things, and she, oh! she knows such a +very little! Besides, _she’s_ she, and _I’m_ I, and—oh dear, how +puzzling it all is! I’ll try if I know all the things I used to know. +Let me see: four times five is twelve, and four times six is thirteen, +and four times seven is—oh dear! I shall never get to twenty at that +rate! However, the Multiplication Table doesn’t signify: let’s try +Geography. London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital of +Rome, and Rome—no, _that’s_ all wrong, I’m certain! I must have been +changed for Mabel! I’ll try and say ‘_How doth the little_—’” and she +crossed her hands on her lap as if she were saying lessons, and began +to repeat it, but her voice sounded hoarse and strange, and the words +did not come the same as they used to do:— + +“How doth the little crocodile + Improve his shining tail, +And pour the waters of the Nile + On every golden scale! + +“How cheerfully he seems to grin, + How neatly spread his claws, +And welcome little fishes in + With gently smiling jaws!” + + +“I’m sure those are not the right words,” said poor Alice, and her eyes +filled with tears again as she went on, “I must be Mabel after all, and +I shall have to go and live in that poky little house, and have next to +no toys to play with, and oh! ever so many lessons to learn! No, I’ve +made up my mind about it; if I’m Mabel, I’ll stay down here! It’ll be +no use their putting their heads down and saying ‘Come up again, dear!’ +I shall only look up and say ‘Who am I then? Tell me that first, and +then, if I like being that person, I’ll come up: if not, I’ll stay down +here till I’m somebody else’—but, oh dear!” cried Alice, with a sudden +burst of tears, “I do wish they _would_ put their heads down! I am so +_very_ tired of being all alone here!” + +As she said this she looked down at her hands, and was surprised to see +that she had put on one of the Rabbit’s little white kid gloves while +she was talking. “How _can_ I have done that?” she thought. “I must be +growing small again.” She got up and went to the table to measure +herself by it, and found that, as nearly as she could guess, she was +now about two feet high, and was going on shrinking rapidly: she soon +found out that the cause of this was the fan she was holding, and she +dropped it hastily, just in time to avoid shrinking away altogether. + +“That _was_ a narrow escape!” said Alice, a good deal frightened at the +sudden change, but very glad to find herself still in existence; “and +now for the garden!” and she ran with all speed back to the little +door: but, alas! the little door was shut again, and the little golden +key was lying on the glass table as before, “and things are worse than +ever,” thought the poor child, “for I never was so small as this +before, never! And I declare it’s too bad, that it is!” + +As she said these words her foot slipped, and in another moment, +splash! she was up to her chin in salt water. Her first idea was that +she had somehow fallen into the sea, “and in that case I can go back by +railway,” she said to herself. (Alice had been to the seaside once in +her life, and had come to the general conclusion, that wherever you go +to on the English coast you find a number of bathing machines in the +sea, some children digging in the sand with wooden spades, then a row +of lodging houses, and behind them a railway station.) However, she +soon made out that she was in the pool of tears which she had wept when +she was nine feet high. + +“I wish I hadn’t cried so much!” said Alice, as she swam about, trying +to find her way out. “I shall be punished for it now, I suppose, by +being drowned in my own tears! That _will_ be a queer thing, to be +sure! However, everything is queer to-day.” + +Just then she heard something splashing about in the pool a little way +off, and she swam nearer to make out what it was: at first she thought +it must be a walrus or hippopotamus, but then she remembered how small +she was now, and she soon made out that it was only a mouse that had +slipped in like herself. + +“Would it be of any use, now,” thought Alice, “to speak to this mouse? +Everything is so out-of-the-way down here, that I should think very +likely it can talk: at any rate, there’s no harm in trying.” So she +began: “O Mouse, do you know the way out of this pool? I am very tired +of swimming about here, O Mouse!” (Alice thought this must be the right +way of speaking to a mouse: she had never done such a thing before, but +she remembered having seen in her brother’s Latin Grammar, “A mouse—of +a mouse—to a mouse—a mouse—O mouse!”) The Mouse looked at her rather +inquisitively, and seemed to her to wink with one of its little eyes, +but it said nothing. + +“Perhaps it doesn’t understand English,” thought Alice; “I daresay it’s +a French mouse, come over with William the Conqueror.” (For, with all +her knowledge of history, Alice had no very clear notion how long ago +anything had happened.) So she began again: “Où est ma chatte?” which +was the first sentence in her French lesson-book. The Mouse gave a +sudden leap out of the water, and seemed to quiver all over with +fright. “Oh, I beg your pardon!” cried Alice hastily, afraid that she +had hurt the poor animal’s feelings. “I quite forgot you didn’t like +cats.” + +“Not like cats!” cried the Mouse, in a shrill, passionate voice. “Would +_you_ like cats if you were me?” + +“Well, perhaps not,” said Alice in a soothing tone: “don’t be angry +about it. And yet I wish I could show you our cat Dinah: I think you’d +take a fancy to cats if you could only see her. She is such a dear +quiet thing,” Alice went on, half to herself, as she swam lazily about +in the pool, “and she sits purring so nicely by the fire, licking her +paws and washing her face—and she is such a nice soft thing to +nurse—and she’s such a capital one for catching mice—oh, I beg your +pardon!” cried Alice again, for this time the Mouse was bristling all +over, and she felt certain it must be really offended. “We won’t talk +about her any more if you’d rather not.” + +“We indeed!” cried the Mouse, who was trembling down to the end of his +tail. “As if _I_ would talk on such a subject! Our family always +_hated_ cats: nasty, low, vulgar things! Don’t let me hear the name +again!” + +“I won’t indeed!” said Alice, in a great hurry to change the subject of +conversation. “Are you—are you fond—of—of dogs?” The Mouse did not +answer, so Alice went on eagerly: “There is such a nice little dog near +our house I should like to show you! A little bright-eyed terrier, you +know, with oh, such long curly brown hair! And it’ll fetch things when +you throw them, and it’ll sit up and beg for its dinner, and all sorts +of things—I can’t remember half of them—and it belongs to a farmer, you +know, and he says it’s so useful, it’s worth a hundred pounds! He says +it kills all the rats and—oh dear!” cried Alice in a sorrowful tone, +“I’m afraid I’ve offended it again!” For the Mouse was swimming away +from her as hard as it could go, and making quite a commotion in the +pool as it went. + +So she called softly after it, “Mouse dear! Do come back again, and we +won’t talk about cats or dogs either, if you don’t like them!” When the +Mouse heard this, it turned round and swam slowly back to her: its face +was quite pale (with passion, Alice thought), and it said in a low +trembling voice, “Let us get to the shore, and then I’ll tell you my +history, and you’ll understand why it is I hate cats and dogs.” + +It was high time to go, for the pool was getting quite crowded with the +birds and animals that had fallen into it: there were a Duck and a +Dodo, a Lory and an Eaglet, and several other curious creatures. Alice +led the way, and the whole party swam to the shore. + + + + +CHAPTER III. +A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale + + +They were indeed a queer-looking party that assembled on the bank—the +birds with draggled feathers, the animals with their fur clinging close +to them, and all dripping wet, cross, and uncomfortable. + +The first question of course was, how to get dry again: they had a +consultation about this, and after a few minutes it seemed quite +natural to Alice to find herself talking familiarly with them, as if +she had known them all her life. Indeed, she had quite a long argument +with the Lory, who at last turned sulky, and would only say, “I am +older than you, and must know better;” and this Alice would not allow +without knowing how old it was, and, as the Lory positively refused to +tell its age, there was no more to be said. + +At last the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of authority among them, +called out, “Sit down, all of you, and listen to me! _I’ll_ soon make +you dry enough!” They all sat down at once, in a large ring, with the +Mouse in the middle. Alice kept her eyes anxiously fixed on it, for she +felt sure she would catch a bad cold if she did not get dry very soon. + +“Ahem!” said the Mouse with an important air, “are you all ready? This +is the driest thing I know. Silence all round, if you please! ‘William +the Conqueror, whose cause was favoured by the pope, was soon submitted +to by the English, who wanted leaders, and had been of late much +accustomed to usurpation and conquest. Edwin and Morcar, the earls of +Mercia and Northumbria—’” + +“Ugh!” said the Lory, with a shiver. + +“I beg your pardon!” said the Mouse, frowning, but very politely: “Did +you speak?” + +“Not I!” said the Lory hastily. + +“I thought you did,” said the Mouse. “—I proceed. ‘Edwin and Morcar, +the earls of Mercia and Northumbria, declared for him: and even +Stigand, the patriotic archbishop of Canterbury, found it advisable—’” + +“Found _what_?” said the Duck. + +“Found _it_,” the Mouse replied rather crossly: “of course you know +what ‘it’ means.” + +“I know what ‘it’ means well enough, when _I_ find a thing,” said the +Duck: “it’s generally a frog or a worm. The question is, what did the +archbishop find?” + +The Mouse did not notice this question, but hurriedly went on, “‘—found +it advisable to go with Edgar Atheling to meet William and offer him +the crown. William’s conduct at first was moderate. But the insolence +of his Normans—’ How are you getting on now, my dear?” it continued, +turning to Alice as it spoke. + +“As wet as ever,” said Alice in a melancholy tone: “it doesn’t seem to +dry me at all.” + +“In that case,” said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its feet, “I move +that the meeting adjourn, for the immediate adoption of more energetic +remedies—” + +“Speak English!” said the Eaglet. “I don’t know the meaning of half +those long words, and, what’s more, I don’t believe you do either!” And +the Eaglet bent down its head to hide a smile: some of the other birds +tittered audibly. + +“What I was going to say,” said the Dodo in an offended tone, “was, +that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race.” + +“What _is_ a Caucus-race?” said Alice; not that she wanted much to +know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that _somebody_ ought to +speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything. + +“Why,” said the Dodo, “the best way to explain it is to do it.” (And, +as you might like to try the thing yourself, some winter day, I will +tell you how the Dodo managed it.) + +First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle, (“the exact +shape doesn’t matter,” it said,) and then all the party were placed +along the course, here and there. There was no “One, two, three, and +away,” but they began running when they liked, and left off when they +liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race was over. However, +when they had been running half an hour or so, and were quite dry +again, the Dodo suddenly called out “The race is over!” and they all +crowded round it, panting, and asking, “But who has won?” + +This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of +thought, and it sat for a long time with one finger pressed upon its +forehead (the position in which you usually see Shakespeare, in the +pictures of him), while the rest waited in silence. At last the Dodo +said, “_Everybody_ has won, and all must have prizes.” + +“But who is to give the prizes?” quite a chorus of voices asked. + +“Why, _she_, of course,” said the Dodo, pointing to Alice with one +finger; and the whole party at once crowded round her, calling out in a +confused way, “Prizes! Prizes!” + +Alice had no idea what to do, and in despair she put her hand in her +pocket, and pulled out a box of comfits, (luckily the salt water had +not got into it), and handed them round as prizes. There was exactly +one a-piece, all round. + +“But she must have a prize herself, you know,” said the Mouse. + +“Of course,” the Dodo replied very gravely. “What else have you got in +your pocket?” he went on, turning to Alice. + +“Only a thimble,” said Alice sadly. + +“Hand it over here,” said the Dodo. + +Then they all crowded round her once more, while the Dodo solemnly +presented the thimble, saying “We beg your acceptance of this elegant +thimble;” and, when it had finished this short speech, they all +cheered. + +Alice thought the whole thing very absurd, but they all looked so grave +that she did not dare to laugh; and, as she could not think of anything +to say, she simply bowed, and took the thimble, looking as solemn as +she could. + +The next thing was to eat the comfits: this caused some noise and +confusion, as the large birds complained that they could not taste +theirs, and the small ones choked and had to be patted on the back. +However, it was over at last, and they sat down again in a ring, and +begged the Mouse to tell them something more. + +“You promised to tell me your history, you know,” said Alice, “and why +it is you hate—C and D,” she added in a whisper, half afraid that it +would be offended again. + +“Mine is a long and a sad tale!” said the Mouse, turning to Alice, and +sighing. + +“It _is_ a long tail, certainly,” said Alice, looking down with wonder +at the Mouse’s tail; “but why do you call it sad?” And she kept on +puzzling about it while the Mouse was speaking, so that her idea of the +tale was something like this:— + + “Fury said to a mouse, That he met in the house, ‘Let us both + go to law: _I_ will prosecute _you_.—Come, I’ll take no + denial; We must have a trial: For really this morning I’ve + nothing to do.’ Said the mouse to the cur, ‘Such a trial, dear + sir, With no jury or judge, would be wasting our breath.’ + ‘I’ll be judge, I’ll be jury,’ Said cunning old Fury: ‘I’ll + try the whole cause, and condemn you to death.’” + +“You are not attending!” said the Mouse to Alice severely. “What are +you thinking of?” + +“I beg your pardon,” said Alice very humbly: “you had got to the fifth +bend, I think?” + +“I had _not!_” cried the Mouse, sharply and very angrily. + +“A knot!” said Alice, always ready to make herself useful, and looking +anxiously about her. “Oh, do let me help to undo it!” + +“I shall do nothing of the sort,” said the Mouse, getting up and +walking away. “You insult me by talking such nonsense!” + +“I didn’t mean it!” pleaded poor Alice. “But you’re so easily offended, +you know!” + +The Mouse only growled in reply. + +“Please come back and finish your story!” Alice called after it; and +the others all joined in chorus, “Yes, please do!” but the Mouse only +shook its head impatiently, and walked a little quicker. + +“What a pity it wouldn’t stay!” sighed the Lory, as soon as it was +quite out of sight; and an old Crab took the opportunity of saying to +her daughter “Ah, my dear! Let this be a lesson to you never to lose +_your_ temper!” “Hold your tongue, Ma!” said the young Crab, a little +snappishly. “You’re enough to try the patience of an oyster!” + +“I wish I had our Dinah here, I know I do!” said Alice aloud, +addressing nobody in particular. “She’d soon fetch it back!” + +“And who is Dinah, if I might venture to ask the question?” said the +Lory. + +Alice replied eagerly, for she was always ready to talk about her pet: +“Dinah’s our cat. And she’s such a capital one for catching mice you +can’t think! And oh, I wish you could see her after the birds! Why, +she’ll eat a little bird as soon as look at it!” + +This speech caused a remarkable sensation among the party. Some of the +birds hurried off at once: one old Magpie began wrapping itself up very +carefully, remarking, “I really must be getting home; the night-air +doesn’t suit my throat!” and a Canary called out in a trembling voice +to its children, “Come away, my dears! It’s high time you were all in +bed!” On various pretexts they all moved off, and Alice was soon left +alone. + +“I wish I hadn’t mentioned Dinah!” she said to herself in a melancholy +tone. “Nobody seems to like her, down here, and I’m sure she’s the best +cat in the world! Oh, my dear Dinah! I wonder if I shall ever see you +any more!” And here poor Alice began to cry again, for she felt very +lonely and low-spirited. In a little while, however, she again heard a +little pattering of footsteps in the distance, and she looked up +eagerly, half hoping that the Mouse had changed his mind, and was +coming back to finish his story. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. +The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill + + +It was the White Rabbit, trotting slowly back again, and looking +anxiously about as it went, as if it had lost something; and she heard +it muttering to itself “The Duchess! The Duchess! Oh my dear paws! Oh +my fur and whiskers! She’ll get me executed, as sure as ferrets are +ferrets! Where _can_ I have dropped them, I wonder?” Alice guessed in a +moment that it was looking for the fan and the pair of white kid +gloves, and she very good-naturedly began hunting about for them, but +they were nowhere to be seen—everything seemed to have changed since +her swim in the pool, and the great hall, with the glass table and the +little door, had vanished completely. + +Very soon the Rabbit noticed Alice, as she went hunting about, and +called out to her in an angry tone, “Why, Mary Ann, what _are_ you +doing out here? Run home this moment, and fetch me a pair of gloves and +a fan! Quick, now!” And Alice was so much frightened that she ran off +at once in the direction it pointed to, without trying to explain the +mistake it had made. + +“He took me for his housemaid,” she said to herself as she ran. “How +surprised he’ll be when he finds out who I am! But I’d better take him +his fan and gloves—that is, if I can find them.” As she said this, she +came upon a neat little house, on the door of which was a bright brass +plate with the name “W. RABBIT,” engraved upon it. She went in without +knocking, and hurried upstairs, in great fear lest she should meet the +real Mary Ann, and be turned out of the house before she had found the +fan and gloves. + +“How queer it seems,” Alice said to herself, “to be going messages for +a rabbit! I suppose Dinah’ll be sending me on messages next!” And she +began fancying the sort of thing that would happen: “‘Miss Alice! Come +here directly, and get ready for your walk!’ ‘Coming in a minute, +nurse! But I’ve got to see that the mouse doesn’t get out.’ Only I +don’t think,” Alice went on, “that they’d let Dinah stop in the house +if it began ordering people about like that!” + +By this time she had found her way into a tidy little room with a table +in the window, and on it (as she had hoped) a fan and two or three +pairs of tiny white kid gloves: she took up the fan and a pair of the +gloves, and was just going to leave the room, when her eye fell upon a +little bottle that stood near the looking-glass. There was no label +this time with the words “DRINK ME,” but nevertheless she uncorked it +and put it to her lips. “I know _something_ interesting is sure to +happen,” she said to herself, “whenever I eat or drink anything; so +I’ll just see what this bottle does. I do hope it’ll make me grow large +again, for really I’m quite tired of being such a tiny little thing!” + +It did so indeed, and much sooner than she had expected: before she had +drunk half the bottle, she found her head pressing against the ceiling, +and had to stoop to save her neck from being broken. She hastily put +down the bottle, saying to herself “That’s quite enough—I hope I shan’t +grow any more—As it is, I can’t get out at the door—I do wish I hadn’t +drunk quite so much!” + +Alas! it was too late to wish that! She went on growing, and growing, +and very soon had to kneel down on the floor: in another minute there +was not even room for this, and she tried the effect of lying down with +one elbow against the door, and the other arm curled round her head. +Still she went on growing, and, as a last resource, she put one arm out +of the window, and one foot up the chimney, and said to herself “Now I +can do no more, whatever happens. What _will_ become of me?” + +Luckily for Alice, the little magic bottle had now had its full effect, +and she grew no larger: still it was very uncomfortable, and, as there +seemed to be no sort of chance of her ever getting out of the room +again, no wonder she felt unhappy. + +“It was much pleasanter at home,” thought poor Alice, “when one wasn’t +always growing larger and smaller, and being ordered about by mice and +rabbits. I almost wish I hadn’t gone down that rabbit-hole—and yet—and +yet—it’s rather curious, you know, this sort of life! I do wonder what +_can_ have happened to me! When I used to read fairy-tales, I fancied +that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of +one! There ought to be a book written about me, that there ought! And +when I grow up, I’ll write one—but I’m grown up now,” she added in a +sorrowful tone; “at least there’s no room to grow up any more _here_.” + +“But then,” thought Alice, “shall I _never_ get any older than I am +now? That’ll be a comfort, one way—never to be an old woman—but +then—always to have lessons to learn! Oh, I shouldn’t like _that!_” + +“Oh, you foolish Alice!” she answered herself. “How can you learn +lessons in here? Why, there’s hardly room for _you_, and no room at all +for any lesson-books!” + +And so she went on, taking first one side and then the other, and +making quite a conversation of it altogether; but after a few minutes +she heard a voice outside, and stopped to listen. + +“Mary Ann! Mary Ann!” said the voice. “Fetch me my gloves this moment!” +Then came a little pattering of feet on the stairs. Alice knew it was +the Rabbit coming to look for her, and she trembled till she shook the +house, quite forgetting that she was now about a thousand times as +large as the Rabbit, and had no reason to be afraid of it. + +Presently the Rabbit came up to the door, and tried to open it; but, as +the door opened inwards, and Alice’s elbow was pressed hard against it, +that attempt proved a failure. Alice heard it say to itself “Then I’ll +go round and get in at the window.” + +“_That_ you won’t!” thought Alice, and, after waiting till she fancied +she heard the Rabbit just under the window, she suddenly spread out her +hand, and made a snatch in the air. She did not get hold of anything, +but she heard a little shriek and a fall, and a crash of broken glass, +from which she concluded that it was just possible it had fallen into a +cucumber-frame, or something of the sort. + +Next came an angry voice—the Rabbit’s—“Pat! Pat! Where are you?” And +then a voice she had never heard before, “Sure then I’m here! Digging +for apples, yer honour!” + +“Digging for apples, indeed!” said the Rabbit angrily. “Here! Come and +help me out of _this!_” (Sounds of more broken glass.) + +“Now tell me, Pat, what’s that in the window?” + +“Sure, it’s an arm, yer honour!” (He pronounced it “arrum.”) + +“An arm, you goose! Who ever saw one that size? Why, it fills the whole +window!” + +“Sure, it does, yer honour: but it’s an arm for all that.” + +“Well, it’s got no business there, at any rate: go and take it away!” + +There was a long silence after this, and Alice could only hear whispers +now and then; such as, “Sure, I don’t like it, yer honour, at all, at +all!” “Do as I tell you, you coward!” and at last she spread out her +hand again, and made another snatch in the air. This time there were +_two_ little shrieks, and more sounds of broken glass. “What a number +of cucumber-frames there must be!” thought Alice. “I wonder what +they’ll do next! As for pulling me out of the window, I only wish they +_could!_ I’m sure _I_ don’t want to stay in here any longer!” + +She waited for some time without hearing anything more: at last came a +rumbling of little cartwheels, and the sound of a good many voices all +talking together: she made out the words: “Where’s the other +ladder?—Why, I hadn’t to bring but one; Bill’s got the other—Bill! +fetch it here, lad!—Here, put ’em up at this corner—No, tie ’em +together first—they don’t reach half high enough yet—Oh! they’ll do +well enough; don’t be particular—Here, Bill! catch hold of this +rope—Will the roof bear?—Mind that loose slate—Oh, it’s coming down! +Heads below!” (a loud crash)—“Now, who did that?—It was Bill, I +fancy—Who’s to go down the chimney?—Nay, _I_ shan’t! _You_ do +it!—_That_ I won’t, then!—Bill’s to go down—Here, Bill! the master says +you’re to go down the chimney!” + +“Oh! So Bill’s got to come down the chimney, has he?” said Alice to +herself. “Shy, they seem to put everything upon Bill! I wouldn’t be in +Bill’s place for a good deal: this fireplace is narrow, to be sure; but +I _think_ I can kick a little!” + +She drew her foot as far down the chimney as she could, and waited till +she heard a little animal (she couldn’t guess of what sort it was) +scratching and scrambling about in the chimney close above her: then, +saying to herself “This is Bill,” she gave one sharp kick, and waited +to see what would happen next. + +The first thing she heard was a general chorus of “There goes Bill!” +then the Rabbit’s voice along—“Catch him, you by the hedge!” then +silence, and then another confusion of voices—“Hold up his head—Brandy +now—Don’t choke him—How was it, old fellow? What happened to you? Tell +us all about it!” + +Last came a little feeble, squeaking voice, (“That’s Bill,” thought +Alice,) “Well, I hardly know—No more, thank ye; I’m better now—but I’m +a deal too flustered to tell you—all I know is, something comes at me +like a Jack-in-the-box, and up I goes like a sky-rocket!” + +“So you did, old fellow!” said the others. + +“We must burn the house down!” said the Rabbit’s voice; and Alice +called out as loud as she could, “If you do, I’ll set Dinah at you!” + +There was a dead silence instantly, and Alice thought to herself, “I +wonder what they _will_ do next! If they had any sense, they’d take the +roof off.” After a minute or two, they began moving about again, and +Alice heard the Rabbit say, “A barrowful will do, to begin with.” + +“A barrowful of _what?_” thought Alice; but she had not long to doubt, +for the next moment a shower of little pebbles came rattling in at the +window, and some of them hit her in the face. “I’ll put a stop to +this,” she said to herself, and shouted out, “You’d better not do that +again!” which produced another dead silence. + +Alice noticed with some surprise that the pebbles were all turning into +little cakes as they lay on the floor, and a bright idea came into her +head. “If I eat one of these cakes,” she thought, “it’s sure to make +_some_ change in my size; and as it can’t possibly make me larger, it +must make me smaller, I suppose.” + +So she swallowed one of the cakes, and was delighted to find that she +began shrinking directly. As soon as she was small enough to get +through the door, she ran out of the house, and found quite a crowd of +little animals and birds waiting outside. The poor little Lizard, Bill, +was in the middle, being held up by two guinea-pigs, who were giving it +something out of a bottle. They all made a rush at Alice the moment she +appeared; but she ran off as hard as she could, and soon found herself +safe in a thick wood. + +“The first thing I’ve got to do,” said Alice to herself, as she +wandered about in the wood, “is to grow to my right size again; and the +second thing is to find my way into that lovely garden. I think that +will be the best plan.” + +It sounded an excellent plan, no doubt, and very neatly and simply +arranged; the only difficulty was, that she had not the smallest idea +how to set about it; and while she was peering about anxiously among +the trees, a little sharp bark just over her head made her look up in a +great hurry. + +An enormous puppy was looking down at her with large round eyes, and +feebly stretching out one paw, trying to touch her. “Poor little +thing!” said Alice, in a coaxing tone, and she tried hard to whistle to +it; but she was terribly frightened all the time at the thought that it +might be hungry, in which case it would be very likely to eat her up in +spite of all her coaxing. + +Hardly knowing what she did, she picked up a little bit of stick, and +held it out to the puppy; whereupon the puppy jumped into the air off +all its feet at once, with a yelp of delight, and rushed at the stick, +and made believe to worry it; then Alice dodged behind a great thistle, +to keep herself from being run over; and the moment she appeared on the +other side, the puppy made another rush at the stick, and tumbled head +over heels in its hurry to get hold of it; then Alice, thinking it was +very like having a game of play with a cart-horse, and expecting every +moment to be trampled under its feet, ran round the thistle again; then +the puppy began a series of short charges at the stick, running a very +little way forwards each time and a long way back, and barking hoarsely +all the while, till at last it sat down a good way off, panting, with +its tongue hanging out of its mouth, and its great eyes half shut. + +This seemed to Alice a good opportunity for making her escape; so she +set off at once, and ran till she was quite tired and out of breath, +and till the puppy’s bark sounded quite faint in the distance. + +“And yet what a dear little puppy it was!” said Alice, as she leant +against a buttercup to rest herself, and fanned herself with one of the +leaves: “I should have liked teaching it tricks very much, if—if I’d +only been the right size to do it! Oh dear! I’d nearly forgotten that +I’ve got to grow up again! Let me see—how _is_ it to be managed? I +suppose I ought to eat or drink something or other; but the great +question is, what?” + +The great question certainly was, what? Alice looked all round her at +the flowers and the blades of grass, but she did not see anything that +looked like the right thing to eat or drink under the circumstances. +There was a large mushroom growing near her, about the same height as +herself; and when she had looked under it, and on both sides of it, and +behind it, it occurred to her that she might as well look and see what +was on the top of it. + +She stretched herself up on tiptoe, and peeped over the edge of the +mushroom, and her eyes immediately met those of a large blue +caterpillar, that was sitting on the top with its arms folded, quietly +smoking a long hookah, and taking not the smallest notice of her or of +anything else. + + + + +CHAPTER V. +Advice from a Caterpillar + + +The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in +silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and +addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice. + +“Who are _you?_” said the Caterpillar. + +This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, +rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, sir, just at present—at least I know +who I _was_ when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been +changed several times since then.” + +“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar sternly. “Explain +yourself!” + +“I can’t explain _myself_, I’m afraid, sir,” said Alice, “because I’m +not myself, you see.” + +“I don’t see,” said the Caterpillar. + +“I’m afraid I can’t put it more clearly,” Alice replied very politely, +“for I can’t understand it myself to begin with; and being so many +different sizes in a day is very confusing.” + +“It isn’t,” said the Caterpillar. + +“Well, perhaps you haven’t found it so yet,” said Alice; “but when you +have to turn into a chrysalis—you will some day, you know—and then +after that into a butterfly, I should think you’ll feel it a little +queer, won’t you?” + +“Not a bit,” said the Caterpillar. + +“Well, perhaps your feelings may be different,” said Alice; “all I know +is, it would feel very queer to _me_.” + +“You!” said the Caterpillar contemptuously. “Who are _you?_” + +Which brought them back again to the beginning of the conversation. +Alice felt a little irritated at the Caterpillar’s making such _very_ +short remarks, and she drew herself up and said, very gravely, “I +think, you ought to tell me who _you_ are, first.” + +“Why?” said the Caterpillar. + +Here was another puzzling question; and as Alice could not think of any +good reason, and as the Caterpillar seemed to be in a _very_ unpleasant +state of mind, she turned away. + +“Come back!” the Caterpillar called after her. “I’ve something +important to say!” + +This sounded promising, certainly: Alice turned and came back again. + +“Keep your temper,” said the Caterpillar. + +“Is that all?” said Alice, swallowing down her anger as well as she +could. + +“No,” said the Caterpillar. + +Alice thought she might as well wait, as she had nothing else to do, +and perhaps after all it might tell her something worth hearing. For +some minutes it puffed away without speaking, but at last it unfolded +its arms, took the hookah out of its mouth again, and said, “So you +think you’re changed, do you?” + +“I’m afraid I am, sir,” said Alice; “I can’t remember things as I +used—and I don’t keep the same size for ten minutes together!” + +“Can’t remember _what_ things?” said the Caterpillar. + +“Well, I’ve tried to say “How doth the little busy bee,” but it all +came different!” Alice replied in a very melancholy voice. + +“Repeat, “_You are old, Father William_,’” said the Caterpillar. + +Alice folded her hands, and began:— + +“You are old, Father William,” the young man said, + “And your hair has become very white; +And yet you incessantly stand on your head— + Do you think, at your age, it is right?” + +“In my youth,” Father William replied to his son, + “I feared it might injure the brain; +But, now that I’m perfectly sure I have none, + Why, I do it again and again.” + +“You are old,” said the youth, “as I mentioned before, + And have grown most uncommonly fat; +Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door— + Pray, what is the reason of that?” + +“In my youth,” said the sage, as he shook his grey locks, + “I kept all my limbs very supple +By the use of this ointment—one shilling the box— + Allow me to sell you a couple?” + +“You are old,” said the youth, “and your jaws are too weak + For anything tougher than suet; +Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak— + Pray, how did you manage to do it?” + +“In my youth,” said his father, “I took to the law, + And argued each case with my wife; +And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw, + Has lasted the rest of my life.” + +“You are old,” said the youth, “one would hardly suppose + That your eye was as steady as ever; +Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose— + What made you so awfully clever?” + +“I have answered three questions, and that is enough,” + Said his father; “don’t give yourself airs! +Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff? + Be off, or I’ll kick you down stairs!” + + +“That is not said right,” said the Caterpillar. + +“Not _quite_ right, I’m afraid,” said Alice, timidly; “some of the +words have got altered.” + +“It is wrong from beginning to end,” said the Caterpillar decidedly, +and there was silence for some minutes. + +The Caterpillar was the first to speak. + +“What size do you want to be?” it asked. + +“Oh, I’m not particular as to size,” Alice hastily replied; “only one +doesn’t like changing so often, you know.” + +“I _don’t_ know,” said the Caterpillar. + +Alice said nothing: she had never been so much contradicted in her life +before, and she felt that she was losing her temper. + +“Are you content now?” said the Caterpillar. + +“Well, I should like to be a _little_ larger, sir, if you wouldn’t +mind,” said Alice: “three inches is such a wretched height to be.” + +“It is a very good height indeed!” said the Caterpillar angrily, +rearing itself upright as it spoke (it was exactly three inches high). + +“But I’m not used to it!” pleaded poor Alice in a piteous tone. And she +thought of herself, “I wish the creatures wouldn’t be so easily +offended!” + +“You’ll get used to it in time,” said the Caterpillar; and it put the +hookah into its mouth and began smoking again. + +This time Alice waited patiently until it chose to speak again. In a +minute or two the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth and +yawned once or twice, and shook itself. Then it got down off the +mushroom, and crawled away in the grass, merely remarking as it went, +“One side will make you grow taller, and the other side will make you +grow shorter.” + +“One side of _what?_ The other side of _what?_” thought Alice to +herself. + +“Of the mushroom,” said the Caterpillar, just as if she had asked it +aloud; and in another moment it was out of sight. + +Alice remained looking thoughtfully at the mushroom for a minute, +trying to make out which were the two sides of it; and as it was +perfectly round, she found this a very difficult question. However, at +last she stretched her arms round it as far as they would go, and broke +off a bit of the edge with each hand. + +“And now which is which?” she said to herself, and nibbled a little of +the right-hand bit to try the effect: the next moment she felt a +violent blow underneath her chin: it had struck her foot! + +She was a good deal frightened by this very sudden change, but she felt +that there was no time to be lost, as she was shrinking rapidly; so she +set to work at once to eat some of the other bit. Her chin was pressed +so closely against her foot, that there was hardly room to open her +mouth; but she did it at last, and managed to swallow a morsel of the +lefthand bit. + +* * * * * * * + + * * * * * * + +* * * * * * * + + +“Come, my head’s free at last!” said Alice in a tone of delight, which +changed into alarm in another moment, when she found that her shoulders +were nowhere to be found: all she could see, when she looked down, was +an immense length of neck, which seemed to rise like a stalk out of a +sea of green leaves that lay far below her. + +“What _can_ all that green stuff be?” said Alice. “And where _have_ my +shoulders got to? And oh, my poor hands, how is it I can’t see you?” +She was moving them about as she spoke, but no result seemed to follow, +except a little shaking among the distant green leaves. + +As there seemed to be no chance of getting her hands up to her head, +she tried to get her head down to them, and was delighted to find that +her neck would bend about easily in any direction, like a serpent. She +had just succeeded in curving it down into a graceful zigzag, and was +going to dive in among the leaves, which she found to be nothing but +the tops of the trees under which she had been wandering, when a sharp +hiss made her draw back in a hurry: a large pigeon had flown into her +face, and was beating her violently with its wings. + +“Serpent!” screamed the Pigeon. + +“I’m _not_ a serpent!” said Alice indignantly. “Let me alone!” + +“Serpent, I say again!” repeated the Pigeon, but in a more subdued +tone, and added with a kind of sob, “I’ve tried every way, and nothing +seems to suit them!” + +“I haven’t the least idea what you’re talking about,” said Alice. + +“I’ve tried the roots of trees, and I’ve tried banks, and I’ve tried +hedges,” the Pigeon went on, without attending to her; “but those +serpents! There’s no pleasing them!” + +Alice was more and more puzzled, but she thought there was no use in +saying anything more till the Pigeon had finished. + +“As if it wasn’t trouble enough hatching the eggs,” said the Pigeon; +“but I must be on the look-out for serpents night and day! Why, I +haven’t had a wink of sleep these three weeks!” + +“I’m very sorry you’ve been annoyed,” said Alice, who was beginning to +see its meaning. + +“And just as I’d taken the highest tree in the wood,” continued the +Pigeon, raising its voice to a shriek, “and just as I was thinking I +should be free of them at last, they must needs come wriggling down +from the sky! Ugh, Serpent!” + +“But I’m _not_ a serpent, I tell you!” said Alice. “I’m a—I’m a—” + +“Well! _What_ are you?” said the Pigeon. “I can see you’re trying to +invent something!” + +“I—I’m a little girl,” said Alice, rather doubtfully, as she remembered +the number of changes she had gone through that day. + +“A likely story indeed!” said the Pigeon in a tone of the deepest +contempt. “I’ve seen a good many little girls in my time, but never +_one_ with such a neck as that! No, no! You’re a serpent; and there’s +no use denying it. I suppose you’ll be telling me next that you never +tasted an egg!” + +“I _have_ tasted eggs, certainly,” said Alice, who was a very truthful +child; “but little girls eat eggs quite as much as serpents do, you +know.” + +“I don’t believe it,” said the Pigeon; “but if they do, why then +they’re a kind of serpent, that’s all I can say.” + +This was such a new idea to Alice, that she was quite silent for a +minute or two, which gave the Pigeon the opportunity of adding, “You’re +looking for eggs, I know _that_ well enough; and what does it matter to +me whether you’re a little girl or a serpent?” + +“It matters a good deal to _me_,” said Alice hastily; “but I’m not +looking for eggs, as it happens; and if I was, I shouldn’t want +_yours_: I don’t like them raw.” + +“Well, be off, then!” said the Pigeon in a sulky tone, as it settled +down again into its nest. Alice crouched down among the trees as well +as she could, for her neck kept getting entangled among the branches, +and every now and then she had to stop and untwist it. After a while +she remembered that she still held the pieces of mushroom in her hands, +and she set to work very carefully, nibbling first at one and then at +the other, and growing sometimes taller and sometimes shorter, until +she had succeeded in bringing herself down to her usual height. + +It was so long since she had been anything near the right size, that it +felt quite strange at first; but she got used to it in a few minutes, +and began talking to herself, as usual. “Come, there’s half my plan +done now! How puzzling all these changes are! I’m never sure what I’m +going to be, from one minute to another! However, I’ve got back to my +right size: the next thing is, to get into that beautiful garden—how +_is_ that to be done, I wonder?” As she said this, she came suddenly +upon an open place, with a little house in it about four feet high. +“Whoever lives there,” thought Alice, “it’ll never do to come upon them +_this_ size: why, I should frighten them out of their wits!” So she +began nibbling at the righthand bit again, and did not venture to go +near the house till she had brought herself down to nine inches high. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. +Pig and Pepper + + +For a minute or two she stood looking at the house, and wondering what +to do next, when suddenly a footman in livery came running out of the +wood—(she considered him to be a footman because he was in livery: +otherwise, judging by his face only, she would have called him a +fish)—and rapped loudly at the door with his knuckles. It was opened by +another footman in livery, with a round face, and large eyes like a +frog; and both footmen, Alice noticed, had powdered hair that curled +all over their heads. She felt very curious to know what it was all +about, and crept a little way out of the wood to listen. + +The Fish-Footman began by producing from under his arm a great letter, +nearly as large as himself, and this he handed over to the other, +saying, in a solemn tone, “For the Duchess. An invitation from the +Queen to play croquet.” The Frog-Footman repeated, in the same solemn +tone, only changing the order of the words a little, “From the Queen. +An invitation for the Duchess to play croquet.” + +Then they both bowed low, and their curls got entangled together. + +Alice laughed so much at this, that she had to run back into the wood +for fear of their hearing her; and when she next peeped out the +Fish-Footman was gone, and the other was sitting on the ground near the +door, staring stupidly up into the sky. + +Alice went timidly up to the door, and knocked. + +“There’s no sort of use in knocking,” said the Footman, “and that for +two reasons. First, because I’m on the same side of the door as you +are; secondly, because they’re making such a noise inside, no one could +possibly hear you.” And certainly there _was_ a most extraordinary +noise going on within—a constant howling and sneezing, and every now +and then a great crash, as if a dish or kettle had been broken to +pieces. + +“Please, then,” said Alice, “how am I to get in?” + +“There might be some sense in your knocking,” the Footman went on +without attending to her, “if we had the door between us. For instance, +if you were _inside_, you might knock, and I could let you out, you +know.” He was looking up into the sky all the time he was speaking, and +this Alice thought decidedly uncivil. “But perhaps he can’t help it,” +she said to herself; “his eyes are so _very_ nearly at the top of his +head. But at any rate he might answer questions.—How am I to get in?” +she repeated, aloud. + +“I shall sit here,” the Footman remarked, “till tomorrow—” + +At this moment the door of the house opened, and a large plate came +skimming out, straight at the Footman’s head: it just grazed his nose, +and broke to pieces against one of the trees behind him. + +“—or next day, maybe,” the Footman continued in the same tone, exactly +as if nothing had happened. + +“How am I to get in?” asked Alice again, in a louder tone. + +“_Are_ you to get in at all?” said the Footman. “That’s the first +question, you know.” + +It was, no doubt: only Alice did not like to be told so. “It’s really +dreadful,” she muttered to herself, “the way all the creatures argue. +It’s enough to drive one crazy!” + +The Footman seemed to think this a good opportunity for repeating his +remark, with variations. “I shall sit here,” he said, “on and off, for +days and days.” + +“But what am _I_ to do?” said Alice. + +“Anything you like,” said the Footman, and began whistling. + +“Oh, there’s no use in talking to him,” said Alice desperately: “he’s +perfectly idiotic!” And she opened the door and went in. + +The door led right into a large kitchen, which was full of smoke from +one end to the other: the Duchess was sitting on a three-legged stool +in the middle, nursing a baby; the cook was leaning over the fire, +stirring a large cauldron which seemed to be full of soup. + +“There’s certainly too much pepper in that soup!” Alice said to +herself, as well as she could for sneezing. + +There was certainly too much of it in the air. Even the Duchess sneezed +occasionally; and as for the baby, it was sneezing and howling +alternately without a moment’s pause. The only things in the kitchen +that did not sneeze, were the cook, and a large cat which was sitting +on the hearth and grinning from ear to ear. + +“Please would you tell me,” said Alice, a little timidly, for she was +not quite sure whether it was good manners for her to speak first, “why +your cat grins like that?” + +“It’s a Cheshire cat,” said the Duchess, “and that’s why. Pig!” + +She said the last word with such sudden violence that Alice quite +jumped; but she saw in another moment that it was addressed to the +baby, and not to her, so she took courage, and went on again:— + +“I didn’t know that Cheshire cats always grinned; in fact, I didn’t +know that cats _could_ grin.” + +“They all can,” said the Duchess; “and most of ’em do.” + +“I don’t know of any that do,” Alice said very politely, feeling quite +pleased to have got into a conversation. + +“You don’t know much,” said the Duchess; “and that’s a fact.” + +Alice did not at all like the tone of this remark, and thought it would +be as well to introduce some other subject of conversation. While she +was trying to fix on one, the cook took the cauldron of soup off the +fire, and at once set to work throwing everything within her reach at +the Duchess and the baby—the fire-irons came first; then followed a +shower of saucepans, plates, and dishes. The Duchess took no notice of +them even when they hit her; and the baby was howling so much already, +that it was quite impossible to say whether the blows hurt it or not. + +“Oh, _please_ mind what you’re doing!” cried Alice, jumping up and down +in an agony of terror. “Oh, there goes his _precious_ nose!” as an +unusually large saucepan flew close by it, and very nearly carried it +off. + +“If everybody minded their own business,” the Duchess said in a hoarse +growl, “the world would go round a deal faster than it does.” + +“Which would _not_ be an advantage,” said Alice, who felt very glad to +get an opportunity of showing off a little of her knowledge. “Just +think of what work it would make with the day and night! You see the +earth takes twenty-four hours to turn round on its axis—” + +“Talking of axes,” said the Duchess, “chop off her head!” + +Alice glanced rather anxiously at the cook, to see if she meant to take +the hint; but the cook was busily stirring the soup, and seemed not to +be listening, so she went on again: “Twenty-four hours, I _think_; or +is it twelve? I—” + +“Oh, don’t bother _me_,” said the Duchess; “I never could abide +figures!” And with that she began nursing her child again, singing a +sort of lullaby to it as she did so, and giving it a violent shake at +the end of every line: + +“Speak roughly to your little boy, + And beat him when he sneezes: +He only does it to annoy, + Because he knows it teases.” + + +CHORUS. +(In which the cook and the baby joined): + + +“Wow! wow! wow!” + + +While the Duchess sang the second verse of the song, she kept tossing +the baby violently up and down, and the poor little thing howled so, +that Alice could hardly hear the words:— + +“I speak severely to my boy, + I beat him when he sneezes; +For he can thoroughly enjoy + The pepper when he pleases!” + + +CHORUS. + + +“Wow! wow! wow!” + + +“Here! you may nurse it a bit, if you like!” the Duchess said to Alice, +flinging the baby at her as she spoke. “I must go and get ready to play +croquet with the Queen,” and she hurried out of the room. The cook +threw a frying-pan after her as she went out, but it just missed her. + +Alice caught the baby with some difficulty, as it was a queer-shaped +little creature, and held out its arms and legs in all directions, +“just like a star-fish,” thought Alice. The poor little thing was +snorting like a steam-engine when she caught it, and kept doubling +itself up and straightening itself out again, so that altogether, for +the first minute or two, it was as much as she could do to hold it. + +As soon as she had made out the proper way of nursing it, (which was to +twist it up into a sort of knot, and then keep tight hold of its right +ear and left foot, so as to prevent its undoing itself,) she carried it +out into the open air. “If I don’t take this child away with me,” +thought Alice, “they’re sure to kill it in a day or two: wouldn’t it be +murder to leave it behind?” She said the last words out loud, and the +little thing grunted in reply (it had left off sneezing by this time). +“Don’t grunt,” said Alice; “that’s not at all a proper way of +expressing yourself.” + +The baby grunted again, and Alice looked very anxiously into its face +to see what was the matter with it. There could be no doubt that it had +a _very_ turn-up nose, much more like a snout than a real nose; also +its eyes were getting extremely small for a baby: altogether Alice did +not like the look of the thing at all. “But perhaps it was only +sobbing,” she thought, and looked into its eyes again, to see if there +were any tears. + +No, there were no tears. “If you’re going to turn into a pig, my dear,” +said Alice, seriously, “I’ll have nothing more to do with you. Mind +now!” The poor little thing sobbed again (or grunted, it was impossible +to say which), and they went on for some while in silence. + +Alice was just beginning to think to herself, “Now, what am I to do +with this creature when I get it home?” when it grunted again, so +violently, that she looked down into its face in some alarm. This time +there could be _no_ mistake about it: it was neither more nor less than +a pig, and she felt that it would be quite absurd for her to carry it +further. + +So she set the little creature down, and felt quite relieved to see it +trot away quietly into the wood. “If it had grown up,” she said to +herself, “it would have made a dreadfully ugly child: but it makes +rather a handsome pig, I think.” And she began thinking over other +children she knew, who might do very well as pigs, and was just saying +to herself, “if one only knew the right way to change them—” when she +was a little startled by seeing the Cheshire Cat sitting on a bough of +a tree a few yards off. + +The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked good-natured, she +thought: still it had _very_ long claws and a great many teeth, so she +felt that it ought to be treated with respect. + +“Cheshire Puss,” she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know +whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little +wider. “Come, it’s pleased so far,” thought Alice, and she went on. +“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?” + +“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat. + +“I don’t much care where—” said Alice. + +“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat. + +“—so long as I get _somewhere_,” Alice added as an explanation. + +“Oh, you’re sure to do that,” said the Cat, “if you only walk long +enough.” + +Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another +question. “What sort of people live about here?” + +“In _that_ direction,” the Cat said, waving its right paw round, “lives +a Hatter: and in _that_ direction,” waving the other paw, “lives a +March Hare. Visit either you like: they’re both mad.” + +“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked. + +“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. +You’re mad.” + +“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice. + +“You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.” + +Alice didn’t think that proved it at all; however, she went on “And how +do you know that you’re mad?” + +“To begin with,” said the Cat, “a dog’s not mad. You grant that?” + +“I suppose so,” said Alice. + +“Well, then,” the Cat went on, “you see, a dog growls when it’s angry, +and wags its tail when it’s pleased. Now _I_ growl when I’m pleased, +and wag my tail when I’m angry. Therefore I’m mad.” + +“_I_ call it purring, not growling,” said Alice. + +“Call it what you like,” said the Cat. “Do you play croquet with the +Queen to-day?” + +“I should like it very much,” said Alice, “but I haven’t been invited +yet.” + +“You’ll see me there,” said the Cat, and vanished. + +Alice was not much surprised at this, she was getting so used to queer +things happening. While she was looking at the place where it had been, +it suddenly appeared again. + +“By-the-bye, what became of the baby?” said the Cat. “I’d nearly +forgotten to ask.” + +“It turned into a pig,” Alice quietly said, just as if it had come back +in a natural way. + +“I thought it would,” said the Cat, and vanished again. + +Alice waited a little, half expecting to see it again, but it did not +appear, and after a minute or two she walked on in the direction in +which the March Hare was said to live. “I’ve seen hatters before,” she +said to herself; “the March Hare will be much the most interesting, and +perhaps as this is May it won’t be raving mad—at least not so mad as it +was in March.” As she said this, she looked up, and there was the Cat +again, sitting on a branch of a tree. + +“Did you say pig, or fig?” said the Cat. + +“I said pig,” replied Alice; “and I wish you wouldn’t keep appearing +and vanishing so suddenly: you make one quite giddy.” + +“All right,” said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite slowly, +beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the grin, which +remained some time after the rest of it had gone. + +“Well! I’ve often seen a cat without a grin,” thought Alice; “but a +grin without a cat! It’s the most curious thing I ever saw in my life!” + +She had not gone much farther before she came in sight of the house of +the March Hare: she thought it must be the right house, because the +chimneys were shaped like ears and the roof was thatched with fur. It +was so large a house, that she did not like to go nearer till she had +nibbled some more of the lefthand bit of mushroom, and raised herself +to about two feet high: even then she walked up towards it rather +timidly, saying to herself “Suppose it should be raving mad after all! +I almost wish I’d gone to see the Hatter instead!” + + + + +CHAPTER VII. +A Mad Tea-Party + + +There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the +March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it: a Dormouse was sitting +between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a +cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head. “Very +uncomfortable for the Dormouse,” thought Alice; “only, as it’s asleep, +I suppose it doesn’t mind.” + +The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at +one corner of it: “No room! No room!” they cried out when they saw +Alice coming. “There’s _plenty_ of room!” said Alice indignantly, and +she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table. + +“Have some wine,” the March Hare said in an encouraging tone. + +Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. +“I don’t see any wine,” she remarked. + +“There isn’t any,” said the March Hare. + +“Then it wasn’t very civil of you to offer it,” said Alice angrily. + +“It wasn’t very civil of you to sit down without being invited,” said +the March Hare. + +“I didn’t know it was _your_ table,” said Alice; “it’s laid for a great +many more than three.” + +“Your hair wants cutting,” said the Hatter. He had been looking at +Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was his first +speech. + +“You should learn not to make personal remarks,” Alice said with some +severity; “it’s very rude.” + +The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he _said_ +was, “Why is a raven like a writing-desk?” + +“Come, we shall have some fun now!” thought Alice. “I’m glad they’ve +begun asking riddles.—I believe I can guess that,” she added aloud. + +“Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?” said +the March Hare. + +“Exactly so,” said Alice. + +“Then you should say what you mean,” the March Hare went on. + +“I do,” Alice hastily replied; “at least—at least I mean what I +say—that’s the same thing, you know.” + +“Not the same thing a bit!” said the Hatter. “You might just as well +say that ‘I see what I eat’ is the same thing as ‘I eat what I see’!” + +“You might just as well say,” added the March Hare, “that ‘I like what +I get’ is the same thing as ‘I get what I like’!” + +“You might just as well say,” added the Dormouse, who seemed to be +talking in his sleep, “that ‘I breathe when I sleep’ is the same thing +as ‘I sleep when I breathe’!” + +“It _is_ the same thing with you,” said the Hatter, and here the +conversation dropped, and the party sat silent for a minute, while +Alice thought over all she could remember about ravens and +writing-desks, which wasn’t much. + +The Hatter was the first to break the silence. “What day of the month +is it?” he said, turning to Alice: he had taken his watch out of his +pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it every now and then, +and holding it to his ear. + +Alice considered a little, and then said “The fourth.” + +“Two days wrong!” sighed the Hatter. “I told you butter wouldn’t suit +the works!” he added looking angrily at the March Hare. + +“It was the _best_ butter,” the March Hare meekly replied. + +“Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,” the Hatter grumbled: +“you shouldn’t have put it in with the bread-knife.” + +The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily: then he dipped +it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again: but he could think of +nothing better to say than his first remark, “It was the _best_ butter, +you know.” + +Alice had been looking over his shoulder with some curiosity. “What a +funny watch!” she remarked. “It tells the day of the month, and doesn’t +tell what o’clock it is!” + +“Why should it?” muttered the Hatter. “Does _your_ watch tell you what +year it is?” + +“Of course not,” Alice replied very readily: “but that’s because it +stays the same year for such a long time together.” + +“Which is just the case with _mine_,” said the Hatter. + +Alice felt dreadfully puzzled. The Hatter’s remark seemed to have no +sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. “I don’t quite +understand you,” she said, as politely as she could. + +“The Dormouse is asleep again,” said the Hatter, and he poured a little +hot tea upon its nose. + +The Dormouse shook its head impatiently, and said, without opening its +eyes, “Of course, of course; just what I was going to remark myself.” + +“Have you guessed the riddle yet?” the Hatter said, turning to Alice +again. + +“No, I give it up,” Alice replied: “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 waste it in asking riddles that have no +answers.” + +“If you knew Time as well as I do,” said the Hatter, “you wouldn’t talk +about wasting _it_. It’s _him_.” + +“I don’t know what you mean,” said Alice. + +“Of course you don’t!” the Hatter said, tossing his head +contemptuously. “I dare say you never even spoke to Time!” + +“Perhaps not,” Alice cautiously replied: “but I know I have to beat +time when I learn music.” + +“Ah! that accounts for it,” said the Hatter. “He won’t stand beating. +Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he’d do almost anything +you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose it were nine o’clock in +the morning, just time to begin lessons: you’d only have to whisper a +hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling! Half-past one, +time for dinner!” + +(“I only wish it was,” the March Hare said to itself in a whisper.) + +“That would be grand, certainly,” said Alice thoughtfully: “but then—I +shouldn’t be hungry for it, you know.” + +“Not at first, perhaps,” said the Hatter: “but you could keep it to +half-past one as long as you liked.” + +“Is that the way _you_ manage?” Alice asked. + +The Hatter shook his head mournfully. “Not I!” he replied. “We +quarrelled last March—just before _he_ went mad, you know—” (pointing +with his tea spoon at the March Hare,) “—it was at the great concert +given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing + +‘Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! +How I wonder what you’re at!’ + + +You know the song, perhaps?” + +“I’ve heard something like it,” said Alice. + +“It goes on, you know,” the Hatter continued, “in this way:— + +‘Up above the world you fly, +Like a tea-tray in the sky. + Twinkle, twinkle—’” + + +Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep +“_Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle_—” and went on so long that they +had to pinch it to make it stop. + +“Well, I’d hardly finished the first verse,” said the Hatter, “when the +Queen jumped up and bawled out, ‘He’s murdering the time! Off with his +head!’” + +“How dreadfully savage!” exclaimed Alice. + +“And ever since that,” the Hatter went on in a mournful tone, “he won’t +do a thing I ask! It’s always six o’clock now.” + +A bright idea came into Alice’s head. “Is that the reason so many +tea-things are put out here?” she asked. + +“Yes, that’s it,” said the Hatter with a sigh: “it’s always tea-time, +and we’ve no time to wash the things between whiles.” + +“Then you keep moving round, I suppose?” said Alice. + +“Exactly so,” said the Hatter: “as the things get used up.” + +“But what happens when you come to the beginning again?” Alice ventured +to ask. + +“Suppose we change the subject,” the March Hare interrupted, yawning. +“I’m getting tired of this. I vote the young lady tells us a story.” + +“I’m afraid I don’t know one,” said Alice, rather alarmed at the +proposal. + +“Then the Dormouse shall!” they both cried. “Wake up, Dormouse!” And +they pinched it on both sides at once. + +The Dormouse slowly opened his eyes. “I wasn’t asleep,” he said in a +hoarse, feeble voice: “I heard every word you fellows were saying.” + +“Tell us a story!” said the March Hare. + +“Yes, please do!” pleaded Alice. + +“And be quick about it,” added the Hatter, “or you’ll be asleep again +before it’s done.” + +“Once upon a time there were three little sisters,” the Dormouse began +in a great hurry; “and their names were Elsie, Lacie, and Tillie; and +they lived at the bottom of a well—” + +“What did they live on?” said Alice, who always took a great interest +in questions of eating and drinking. + +“They lived on treacle,” said the Dormouse, after thinking a minute or +two. + +“They couldn’t have done that, you know,” Alice gently remarked; +“they’d have been ill.” + +“So they were,” said the Dormouse; “_very_ ill.” + +Alice tried to fancy to herself what such an extraordinary ways of +living would be like, but it puzzled her too much, so she went on: “But +why did they live at the bottom of a well?” + +“Take some more tea,” the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly. + +“I’ve had nothing yet,” Alice replied in an offended tone, “so I can’t +take more.” + +“You mean you can’t take _less_,” said the Hatter: “it’s very easy to +take _more_ than nothing.” + +“Nobody asked _your_ opinion,” said Alice. + +“Who’s making personal remarks now?” the Hatter asked triumphantly. + +Alice did not quite know what to say to this: so she helped herself to +some tea and bread-and-butter, and then turned to the Dormouse, and +repeated her question. “Why did they live at the bottom of a well?” + +The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and then +said, “It was a treacle-well.” + +“There’s no such thing!” Alice was beginning very angrily, but the +Hatter and the March Hare went “Sh! sh!” and the Dormouse sulkily +remarked, “If you can’t be civil, you’d better finish the story for +yourself.” + +“No, please go on!” Alice said very humbly; “I won’t interrupt again. I +dare say there may be _one_.” + +“One, indeed!” said the Dormouse indignantly. However, he consented to +go on. “And so these three little sisters—they were learning to draw, +you know—” + +“What did they draw?” said Alice, quite forgetting her promise. + +“Treacle,” said the Dormouse, without considering at all this time. + +“I want a clean cup,” interrupted the Hatter: “let’s all move one place +on.” + +He moved on as he spoke, and the Dormouse followed him: the March Hare +moved into the Dormouse’s place, and Alice rather unwillingly took the +place of the March Hare. The Hatter was the only one who got any +advantage from the change: and Alice was a good deal worse off than +before, as the March Hare had just upset the milk-jug into his plate. + +Alice did not wish to offend the Dormouse again, so she began very +cautiously: “But I don’t understand. Where did they draw the treacle +from?” + +“You can draw water out of a water-well,” said the Hatter; “so I should +think you could draw treacle out of a treacle-well—eh, stupid?” + +“But they were _in_ the well,” Alice said to the Dormouse, not choosing +to notice this last remark. + +“Of course they were,” said the Dormouse; “—well in.” + +This answer so confused poor Alice, that she let the Dormouse go on for +some time without interrupting it. + +“They were learning to draw,” the Dormouse went on, yawning and rubbing +its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy; “and they drew all manner of +things—everything that begins with an M—” + +“Why with an M?” said Alice. + +“Why not?” said the March Hare. + +Alice was silent. + +The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going off into a +doze; but, on being pinched by the Hatter, it woke up again with a +little shriek, and went on: “—that begins with an M, such as +mouse-traps, and the moon, and memory, and muchness—you know you say +things are “much of a muchness”—did you ever see such a thing as a +drawing of a muchness?” + +“Really, now you ask me,” said Alice, very much confused, “I don’t +think—” + +“Then you shouldn’t talk,” said the Hatter. + +This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear: she got up in +great disgust, and walked off; the Dormouse fell asleep instantly, and +neither of the others took the least notice of her going, though she +looked back once or twice, half hoping that they would call after her: +the last time she saw them, they were trying to put the Dormouse into +the teapot. + +“At any rate I’ll never go _there_ again!” said Alice as she picked her +way through the wood. “It’s the stupidest tea-party I ever was at in +all my life!” + +Just as she said this, she noticed that one of the trees had a door +leading right into it. “That’s very curious!” she thought. “But +everything’s curious today. I think I may as well go in at once.” And +in she went. + +Once more she found herself in the long hall, and close to the little +glass table. “Now, I’ll manage better this time,” she said to herself, +and began by taking the little golden key, and unlocking the door that +led into the garden. Then she went 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. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. +The Queen’s Croquet-Ground + + +A large rose-tree stood near the entrance of the garden: the roses +growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at it, busily +painting them red. Alice thought this a very curious thing, and she +went nearer to watch them, and just as she came up to them she heard +one of them say, “Look out now, Five! Don’t go splashing paint over me +like that!” + +“I couldn’t help it,” said Five, in a sulky tone; “Seven jogged my +elbow.” + +On which Seven looked up and said, “That’s right, Five! Always lay the +blame on others!” + +“_You’d_ better not talk!” said Five. “I heard the Queen say only +yesterday you deserved to be beheaded!” + +“What for?” said the one who had spoken first. + +“That’s none of _your_ business, Two!” said Seven. + +“Yes, it _is_ his business!” said Five, “and I’ll tell him—it was for +bringing the cook tulip-roots instead of onions.” + +Seven flung down his brush, and had just begun “Well, of all the unjust +things—” when his eye chanced to fall upon Alice, as she stood watching +them, and he checked himself suddenly: the others looked round also, +and all of them bowed low. + +“Would you tell me,” said Alice, a little timidly, “why you are +painting those roses?” + +Five and Seven said nothing, but looked at Two. Two began in a low +voice, “Why the fact is, you see, Miss, this here ought to have been a +_red_ rose-tree, and we put a white one in by mistake; and if the Queen +was to find it out, we should all have our heads cut off, you know. So +you see, Miss, we’re doing our best, afore she comes, to—” At this +moment Five, who had been anxiously looking across the garden, called +out “The Queen! The Queen!” and the three gardeners instantly threw +themselves flat upon their faces. There was a sound of many footsteps, +and Alice looked round, eager to see the Queen. + +First came ten soldiers carrying clubs; these were all shaped like the +three gardeners, oblong and flat, with their hands and feet at the +corners: next the ten courtiers; these were ornamented all over with +diamonds, and walked two and two, as the soldiers did. After these came +the royal children; there were ten of them, and the little dears came +jumping merrily along hand in hand, in couples: they were all +ornamented with hearts. Next came the guests, mostly Kings and Queens, +and among them Alice recognised the White Rabbit: it was talking in a +hurried nervous manner, smiling at everything that was said, and went +by without noticing her. Then followed the Knave of Hearts, carrying +the King’s crown on a crimson velvet cushion; and, last of all this +grand procession, came THE KING AND QUEEN OF HEARTS. + +Alice was rather doubtful whether she ought not to lie down on her face +like the three gardeners, but she could not remember 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 upon their +faces, so that they couldn’t see it?” So she stood still where she was, +and waited. + +When the procession came opposite to Alice, they all stopped and looked +at her, and the Queen said severely “Who is this?” She said it to the +Knave of Hearts, who only bowed and smiled in reply. + +“Idiot!” said the Queen, tossing her head impatiently; and, turning to +Alice, she went on, “What’s your name, child?” + +“My name is Alice, so please your Majesty,” said Alice very politely; +but she added, to herself, “Why, they’re only a pack of cards, after +all. I needn’t be afraid of them!” + +“And who are _these?_” said the Queen, pointing to the three gardeners +who were lying round the 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, screamed “Off with her head! Off—” + +“Nonsense!” said Alice, very loudly and decidedly, and the Queen was +silent. + +The King laid his hand upon her arm, and timidly said “Consider, my +dear: she is only a child!” + +The Queen turned angrily away from him, and said to the Knave “Turn +them over!” + +The Knave did so, very carefully, with one foot. + +“Get up!” said the Queen, in a shrill, loud voice, and the three +gardeners instantly jumped up, and began bowing to the King, the Queen, +the royal children, and everybody else. + +“Leave off that!” screamed the Queen. “You make me giddy.” And then, +turning to the rose-tree, she went on, “What _have_ you been doing +here?” + +“May it please your Majesty,” said Two, in a very humble tone, going +down on one knee as he spoke, “we were trying—” + +“_I_ see!” said the Queen, who had meanwhile been examining the roses. +“Off with their heads!” and the procession moved on, three of the +soldiers remaining behind to execute the unfortunate gardeners, who ran +to Alice for protection. + +“You shan’t be beheaded!” said Alice, and she put them into a large +flower-pot that stood near. The three soldiers wandered about for a +minute or two, looking for them, and then quietly marched off after the +others. + +“Are their heads off?” shouted the Queen. + +“Their heads are gone, if it please your Majesty!” the soldiers shouted +in reply. + +“That’s right!” shouted the Queen. “Can you play croquet?” + +The soldiers were silent, and looked at Alice, as the question was +evidently meant for her. + +“Yes!” shouted Alice. + +“Come on, then!” roared the Queen, and Alice joined the procession, +wondering very much what would happen next. + +“It’s—it’s a very fine day!” said a timid voice at her side. She was +walking by the White Rabbit, who was peeping anxiously into her face. + +“Very,” said Alice: “—where’s the Duchess?” + +“Hush! Hush!” said the Rabbit in a low, hurried tone. He looked +anxiously over his shoulder as he spoke, and then raised himself upon +tiptoe, put his mouth close to her ear, and whispered “She’s under +sentence of execution.” + +“What for?” said Alice. + +“Did you say ‘What a pity!’?” the Rabbit asked. + +“No, I didn’t,” said Alice: “I don’t think it’s at all a pity. I said +‘What for?’” + +“She boxed the Queen’s ears—” the Rabbit began. Alice gave a little +scream of laughter. “Oh, hush!” the Rabbit whispered in a frightened +tone. “The Queen will hear you! You see, she came rather late, and the +Queen said—” + +“Get to your places!” shouted the Queen in a voice of thunder, and +people began running about in all directions, tumbling up against each +other; however, they got settled down in a minute or two, and the game +began. Alice thought she had never seen such a curious croquet-ground +in her life; it was all ridges and furrows; the balls were live +hedgehogs, the mallets live flamingoes, and the soldiers had to double +themselves up and to stand on their hands and feet, to make the arches. + +The chief difficulty Alice found at first was in managing her flamingo: +she succeeded in getting its body tucked away, comfortably enough, +under her arm, with its legs hanging down, but generally, just as she +had got its neck nicely straightened out, and was going to give the +hedgehog a blow with its head, it _would_ twist itself round and look +up in her face, with such a puzzled expression that she could not help +bursting out laughing: and when she had got its head down, and was +going to begin again, it was very provoking to find that the hedgehog +had unrolled itself, and was in the act of crawling away: besides all +this, there was generally a ridge or furrow in the way wherever she +wanted to send the hedgehog to, and, as the doubled-up soldiers were +always getting up and walking off to other parts of the ground, Alice +soon came to the conclusion that it was a very difficult game indeed. + +The players all played at once without waiting for turns, quarrelling +all the while, and fighting for the hedgehogs; and in a very short time +the Queen was in a furious passion, and went stamping about, and +shouting “Off with his head!” or “Off with her head!” about once in a +minute. + +Alice began to feel very uneasy: to be sure, she had not as yet had any +dispute with the Queen, but she knew that it might happen any minute, +“and then,” thought she, “what would become of me? They’re dreadfully +fond of beheading people here; the great wonder is, that there’s any +one left alive!” + +She was looking about for some way of escape, and wondering whether she +could get away without being seen, when she noticed a curious +appearance in the air: it puzzled her very much at first, but, after +watching it a minute or two, she made it out to be a grin, and she said +to herself “It’s the Cheshire Cat: now I shall have somebody to talk +to.” + +“How are you getting on?” said the Cat, as soon as there was mouth +enough for it to speak with. + +Alice waited till the eyes appeared, and then nodded. “It’s no use +speaking to it,” she thought, “till its ears have come, or at least one +of them.” In another minute the whole head appeared, and then Alice put +down her flamingo, and began an account of the game, feeling very glad +she had someone to listen to her. The Cat seemed to think that there +was enough of it now in sight, and no more of it appeared. + +“I don’t think they play at all fairly,” Alice began, in rather a +complaining tone, “and they all quarrel so dreadfully one can’t hear +oneself speak—and they don’t seem to have any rules in particular; at +least, if there are, nobody attends to them—and you’ve no idea how +confusing it is all the things being alive; for instance, there’s the +arch I’ve got to go through next walking about at the other end of the +ground—and I should have croqueted the Queen’s hedgehog just now, only +it ran away when it saw mine coming!” + +“How do you like the Queen?” said the Cat in a low voice. + +“Not at all,” said Alice: “she’s so extremely—” Just then she noticed +that the Queen was close behind her, listening: so she went on, +“—likely to win, that it’s hardly worth while finishing the game.” + +The Queen smiled and passed on. + +“Who _are_ you talking to?” said the King, going up to Alice, and +looking at the Cat’s head with great curiosity. + +“It’s a friend of mine—a Cheshire Cat,” said Alice: “allow me to +introduce it.” + +“I don’t like the look of it at all,” said the King: “however, it may +kiss my hand if it likes.” + +“I’d rather not,” the Cat remarked. + +“Don’t be impertinent,” said the King, “and don’t look at me like +that!” He got behind Alice as he spoke. + +“A cat may look at a king,” said Alice. “I’ve read that in some book, +but I don’t remember where.” + +“Well, it must be removed,” said the King very decidedly, and he called +the Queen, who was passing at the moment, “My dear! I wish you would +have this cat removed!” + +The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great or +small. “Off with his head!” she said, without even looking round. + +“I’ll fetch the executioner myself,” said the King eagerly, and he +hurried off. + +Alice thought she might as well go back, and see how the game was going +on, as she heard the Queen’s voice in the distance, screaming with +passion. She had already heard her sentence three of the players to be +executed for having missed their turns, and she did not like the look +of things at all, as the game was in such confusion that she never knew +whether it was her turn or not. So she went in search of her hedgehog. + +The hedgehog was engaged in a fight with another hedgehog, which seemed +to Alice an excellent opportunity for croqueting one of them with the +other: the only difficulty was, that her flamingo was gone across to +the other side of the garden, where Alice could see it trying in a +helpless sort of way to fly up into a tree. + +By the time she had caught the flamingo and brought it back, the fight +was over, and both the hedgehogs were out of sight: “but it doesn’t +matter much,” thought Alice, “as all the arches are gone from this side +of the ground.” So she tucked it away under her arm, that it might not +escape again, and went back for a little more conversation with her +friend. + +When she got back to the Cheshire Cat, she was surprised to find quite +a large crowd collected round it: there was a dispute going on between +the executioner, the King, and the Queen, who were all talking at once, +while all the rest were quite silent, and looked very uncomfortable. + +The moment Alice appeared, she was appealed to by all three to settle +the question, and they repeated their arguments to her, though, as they +all spoke at once, she found it very hard indeed to make out exactly +what they said. + +The executioner’s argument was, that you couldn’t cut off a head unless +there was a body to cut it off from: that he had never had to do such a +thing before, and he wasn’t going to begin at _his_ time of life. + +The King’s argument was, that anything that had a head could be +beheaded, and that you weren’t to talk nonsense. + +The Queen’s argument was, that if something wasn’t done about it in +less than no time she’d have everybody executed, all round. (It was +this last remark that had made the whole party look so grave and +anxious.) + +Alice could think of nothing else to say but “It belongs to the +Duchess: you’d better ask _her_ about it.” + +“She’s in prison,” the Queen said to the executioner: “fetch her here.” +And the executioner went off like an arrow. + +The Cat’s head began fading away the moment he was gone, and, by the +time he had come back with the Duchess, it had entirely disappeared; so +the King and the executioner ran wildly up and down looking for it, +while the rest of the party went back to the game. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. +The Mock Turtle’s Story + + +“You can’t think how glad I am to see you again, you dear old thing!” +said the Duchess, as she tucked her arm affectionately into Alice’s, +and they walked off together. + +Alice was very glad to find her in such a pleasant temper, and thought +to herself that perhaps it was only the pepper that had made her so +savage when they met in the kitchen. + +“When _I’m_ a Duchess,” she said to herself, (not in a very hopeful +tone though), “I won’t have any pepper in my kitchen _at all_. Soup +does very well without—Maybe it’s always pepper that makes people +hot-tempered,” she went on, very much pleased at having found out a new +kind of rule, “and vinegar that makes them sour—and camomile that makes +them bitter—and—and barley-sugar and such things that make children +sweet-tempered. I only wish people knew _that_: then they wouldn’t be +so stingy about it, you know—” + +She had quite forgotten the Duchess by this time, and was a little +startled when she heard her voice close to her ear. “You’re thinking +about something, my dear, and that makes you forget to talk. I can’t +tell you just now what the moral of that is, but I shall remember it in +a bit.” + +“Perhaps it hasn’t one,” Alice ventured to remark. + +“Tut, tut, child!” said the Duchess. “Everything’s got a moral, if only +you can find it.” And she squeezed herself up closer to Alice’s side as +she spoke. + +Alice did not much like keeping so close to her: first, because the +Duchess was _very_ ugly; and secondly, because she was exactly the +right height to rest her chin upon Alice’s shoulder, and it was an +uncomfortably sharp chin. However, she did not like to be rude, so she +bore it as well as she could. + +“The game’s going on rather better now,” she said, by way of keeping up +the conversation a little. + +“’Tis so,” said the Duchess: “and the moral of that is—‘Oh, ’tis love, +’tis love, that makes the world go round!’” + +“Somebody said,” Alice whispered, “that it’s done by everybody minding +their own business!” + +“Ah, well! It means much the same thing,” said the Duchess, digging her +sharp little chin into Alice’s shoulder as she added, “and the moral of +_that_ is—‘Take care of the sense, and the sounds will take care of +themselves.’” + +“How fond she is of finding morals in things!” Alice thought to +herself. + +“I dare say you’re wondering why I don’t put my arm round your waist,” +the Duchess said after a pause: “the reason is, that I’m doubtful about +the temper of your flamingo. Shall I try the experiment?” + +“He might bite,” Alice cautiously replied, not feeling at all anxious +to have the experiment tried. + +“Very true,” said the Duchess: “flamingoes and mustard both bite. And +the moral of that is—‘Birds of a feather flock together.’” + +“Only mustard isn’t a bird,” Alice remarked. + +“Right, as usual,” said the Duchess: “what a clear way you have of +putting things!” + +“It’s a mineral, I _think_,” said Alice. + +“Of course it is,” said the Duchess, who seemed ready to agree to +everything that Alice said; “there’s a large mustard-mine near here. +And the moral of that is—‘The more there is of mine, the less there is +of yours.’” + +“Oh, I know!” exclaimed Alice, who had not attended to this last +remark, “it’s a vegetable. It doesn’t look like one, but it is.” + +“I quite agree with you,” said the Duchess; “and the moral of that +is—‘Be what you would seem to be’—or if you’d like it put more +simply—‘Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might +appear to others that what you were or might have been was not +otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be +otherwise.’” + +“I think I should understand that better,” Alice said very politely, +“if I had it written down: but I can’t quite follow it as you say it.” + +“That’s nothing to what I could say if I chose,” the Duchess replied, +in a pleased tone. + +“Pray don’t trouble yourself to say it any longer than that,” said +Alice. + +“Oh, don’t talk about trouble!” said the Duchess. “I make you a present +of everything I’ve said as yet.” + +“A cheap sort of present!” thought Alice. “I’m glad they don’t give +birthday presents like that!” But she did not venture to say it out +loud. + +“Thinking again?” the Duchess asked, with another dig of her sharp +little chin. + +“I’ve a right to think,” said Alice sharply, for she was beginning to +feel a little worried. + +“Just about as much right,” said the Duchess, “as pigs have to fly; and +the m—” + +But here, to Alice’s great surprise, the Duchess’s voice died away, +even in the middle of her favourite word ‘moral,’ and the arm that was +linked into hers began to tremble. Alice looked up, and there stood the +Queen in front of them, with her arms folded, frowning like a +thunderstorm. + +“A fine day, your Majesty!” the Duchess began in a low, weak voice. + +“Now, I give you fair warning,” shouted the Queen, stamping on the +ground as she spoke; “either you or your head must be off, and that in +about half no time! Take your choice!” + +The Duchess took her choice, and was gone in a moment. + +“Let’s go on with the game,” the Queen said to Alice; and Alice was too +much frightened to say a word, but slowly followed her back to the +croquet-ground. + +The other guests had taken advantage of the Queen’s absence, and were +resting in the shade: however, the moment they saw her, they hurried +back to the game, the Queen merely remarking that a moment’s delay +would cost them their lives. + +All the time they were playing the Queen never left off quarrelling +with the other players, and shouting “Off with his head!” or “Off with +her head!” Those whom she sentenced were taken into custody by the +soldiers, who of course had to leave off being arches to do this, so +that by the end of half an hour or so there were no arches left, and +all the players, except the King, the Queen, and Alice, were in custody +and under sentence of execution. + +Then the Queen left off, quite out of breath, and said to Alice, “Have +you seen the Mock Turtle yet?” + +“No,” said Alice. “I don’t even know what a Mock Turtle is.” + +“It’s the thing Mock Turtle Soup is made from,” said the Queen. + +“I never saw one, or heard of one,” said Alice. + +“Come on, then,” said the Queen, “and he shall tell you his history,” + +As they walked off together, Alice heard the King say in a low voice, +to the company generally, “You are all pardoned.” “Come, _that’s_ a +good thing!” she said to herself, for she had felt quite unhappy at the +number of executions the Queen had ordered. + +They very soon came upon a Gryphon, lying fast asleep in the sun. (If +you don’t know what a Gryphon is, look at the picture.) “Up, lazy +thing!” said the Queen, “and take this young lady to see the Mock +Turtle, and to hear his history. I must go back and see after some +executions I have ordered;” and she walked off, leaving Alice alone +with the Gryphon. Alice did not quite like the look of the creature, +but on the whole she thought it would be quite as safe to stay with it +as to go after that savage Queen: so she waited. + +The Gryphon sat up and rubbed its eyes: then it watched the Queen till +she was out of sight: then it chuckled. “What fun!” said the Gryphon, +half to itself, half to Alice. + +“What _is_ the fun?” said Alice. + +“Why, _she_,” said the Gryphon. “It’s all her fancy, that: they never +executes nobody, you know. Come on!” + +“Everybody says ‘come on!’ here,” thought Alice, as she went slowly +after it: “I never was so ordered about in all my life, never!” + +They had not gone far before they saw the Mock Turtle in the distance, +sitting sad and lonely on a little ledge of rock, and, as they came +nearer, Alice could hear him sighing as if his heart would break. She +pitied him deeply. “What is his sorrow?” she asked the Gryphon, and the +Gryphon answered, very nearly in the same words as before, “It’s all +his fancy, that: he hasn’t got no sorrow, you know. Come on!” + +So they went up to the Mock Turtle, who looked at them with large eyes +full of tears, but said nothing. + +“This here young lady,” said the Gryphon, “she wants for to know your +history, she do.” + +“I’ll tell it her,” said the Mock Turtle in a deep, hollow tone: “sit +down, both of you, and don’t speak a word till I’ve finished.” + +So they sat down, and nobody spoke for some minutes. Alice thought to +herself, “I don’t see how he can _ever_ finish, if he doesn’t begin.” +But she waited patiently. + +“Once,” said the Mock Turtle at last, with a deep sigh, “I was a real +Turtle.” + +These words were followed by a very long silence, broken only by an +occasional exclamation of “Hjckrrh!” from the Gryphon, and the constant +heavy sobbing of the Mock Turtle. Alice was very nearly getting up and +saying, “Thank you, sir, for your interesting story,” but she could not +help thinking there _must_ be more to come, so she sat still and said +nothing. + +“When we were little,” the Mock Turtle went on at last, more calmly, +though still sobbing a little now and then, “we went to school in the +sea. The master was an old Turtle—we used to call him Tortoise—” + +“Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn’t one?” Alice asked. + +“We called him Tortoise because he taught us,” said the Mock Turtle +angrily: “really you are very dull!” + +“You ought to be ashamed of yourself for asking such a simple +question,” added the Gryphon; and then they both sat silent and looked +at poor Alice, who felt ready to sink into the earth. At last the +Gryphon said to the Mock Turtle, “Drive on, old fellow! Don’t be all +day about it!” and he went on in these words: + +“Yes, we went to school in the sea, though you mayn’t believe it—” + +“I never said I didn’t!” interrupted Alice. + +“You did,” said the Mock Turtle. + +“Hold your tongue!” added the Gryphon, before Alice could speak again. +The Mock Turtle went on. + +“We had the best of educations—in fact, we went to school every day—” + +“_I’ve_ been to a day-school, too,” said Alice; “you needn’t be so +proud as all that.” + +“With extras?” asked the Mock Turtle a little anxiously. + +“Yes,” said Alice, “we learned French and music.” + +“And washing?” said the Mock Turtle. + +“Certainly not!” said Alice indignantly. + +“Ah! then yours wasn’t a really good school,” said the Mock Turtle in a +tone of great relief. “Now at _ours_ they had at the end of the bill, +‘French, music, _and washing_—extra.’” + +“You couldn’t have wanted it much,” said Alice; “living at the bottom +of the sea.” + +“I couldn’t afford to learn it.” said the Mock Turtle with a sigh. “I +only took the regular course.” + +“What was that?” inquired Alice. + +“Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,” the Mock Turtle +replied; “and then the different branches of Arithmetic—Ambition, +Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.” + +“I never heard of ‘Uglification,’” Alice ventured to say. “What is it?” + +The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise. “What! Never heard of +uglifying!” it exclaimed. “You know what to beautify is, I suppose?” + +“Yes,” said Alice doubtfully: “it means—to—make—anything—prettier.” + +“Well, then,” the Gryphon went on, “if you don’t know what to uglify +is, you _are_ a simpleton.” + +Alice did not feel encouraged to ask any more questions about it, so +she turned to the Mock Turtle, and said “What else had you to learn?” + +“Well, there was Mystery,” the Mock Turtle replied, counting off the +subjects on his flappers, “—Mystery, ancient and modern, with +Seaography: then Drawling—the Drawling-master was an old conger-eel, +that used to come once a week: _he_ taught us Drawling, Stretching, and +Fainting in Coils.” + +“What was _that_ like?” said Alice. + +“Well, I can’t show it you myself,” the Mock Turtle said: “I’m too +stiff. And the Gryphon never learnt it.” + +“Hadn’t time,” said the Gryphon: “I went to the Classics master, +though. He was an old crab, _he_ was.” + +“I never went to him,” the Mock Turtle said with a sigh: “he taught +Laughing and Grief, they used to say.” + +“So he did, so he did,” said the Gryphon, sighing in his turn; and both +creatures hid their faces in their paws. + +“And how many hours a day did you do lessons?” said Alice, in a hurry +to change the subject. + +“Ten hours the first day,” said the Mock Turtle: “nine the next, and so +on.” + +“What a curious plan!” exclaimed Alice. + +“That’s the reason they’re called lessons,” the Gryphon remarked: +“because they lessen from day to day.” + +This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought it over a little +before she made her next remark. “Then the eleventh day must have been +a holiday?” + +“Of course it was,” said the Mock Turtle. + +“And how did you manage on the twelfth?” Alice went on eagerly. + +“That’s enough about lessons,” the Gryphon interrupted in a very +decided tone: “tell her something about the games now.” + + + + +CHAPTER X. +The Lobster Quadrille + + +The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and drew the back of one flapper across +his eyes. He looked at Alice, and tried to speak, but for a minute or +two sobs choked his voice. “Same as if he had a bone in his throat,” +said the Gryphon: and it set to work shaking him and punching him in +the back. At last the Mock Turtle recovered his voice, and, with tears +running down his cheeks, he went on again:— + +“You may not have lived much under the sea—” (“I haven’t,” said +Alice)—“and perhaps you were never even introduced to a lobster—” +(Alice began to say “I once tasted—” but checked herself hastily, and +said “No, never”) “—so you can have no idea what a delightful thing a +Lobster Quadrille is!” + +“No, indeed,” said Alice. “What sort of a dance is it?” + +“Why,” said the Gryphon, “you first form into a line along the +sea-shore—” + +“Two lines!” cried the Mock Turtle. “Seals, turtles, salmon, and so on; +then, when you’ve cleared all the jelly-fish out of the way—” + +“_That_ generally takes some time,” interrupted the Gryphon. + +“—you advance twice—” + +“Each with a lobster as a partner!” cried the Gryphon. + +“Of course,” the Mock Turtle said: “advance twice, set to partners—” + +“—change lobsters, and retire in same order,” continued the Gryphon. + +“Then, you know,” the Mock Turtle went on, “you throw the—” + +“The lobsters!” shouted the Gryphon, with a bound into the air. + +“—as far out to sea as you can—” + +“Swim after them!” screamed the Gryphon. + +“Turn a somersault in the sea!” cried the Mock Turtle, capering wildly +about. + +“Change lobsters 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.” + +So they began solemnly dancing round and round Alice, every now and +then treading on her toes when they passed too close, and waving their +forepaws to mark the time, while the Mock Turtle sang this, very slowly +and sadly:— + +“Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail. +“There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail. +See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! +They are waiting on the shingle—will you come and join the dance? +Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance? +Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance? + +“You can really have no notion how delightful it will be +When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!” +But the snail replied “Too far, too far!” and gave a look askance— +Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance. +Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance. +Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance. + +“What matters it how far we go?” his scaly friend replied. +“There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. +The further off from England the nearer is to France— +Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance. +Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance? +Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?” + + +“Thank you, it’s a very interesting dance to watch,” said Alice, +feeling very glad that it was over at last: “and I do so like that +curious song about the whiting!” + +“Oh, as to the whiting,” said the Mock Turtle, “they—you’ve seen them, +of course?” + +“Yes,” said Alice, “I’ve often seen them at dinn—” she checked herself +hastily. + +“I don’t know where Dinn may be,” said the Mock Turtle, “but if you’ve +seen them so often, of course you know what they’re like.” + +“I believe so,” Alice replied thoughtfully. “They have their tails in +their mouths—and they’re all over crumbs.” + +“You’re wrong about the crumbs,” said the Mock Turtle: “crumbs would +all wash off in the sea. But they _have_ their tails in their mouths; +and the reason is—” here the Mock Turtle yawned and shut his +eyes.—“Tell her about the reason and all that,” he said to the Gryphon. + +“The reason is,” said the Gryphon, “that they _would_ go with the +lobsters to the dance. So they got thrown out to sea. So they had to +fall a long way. So they got their tails fast in their mouths. So they +couldn’t get them out again. That’s all.” + +“Thank you,” said Alice, “it’s very interesting. I never knew so much +about a whiting before.” + +“I can tell you more than that, if you like,” said the Gryphon. “Do you +know why it’s called a whiting?” + +“I never thought about it,” said Alice. “Why?” + +“_It does the boots and shoes_,” the Gryphon replied very solemnly. + +Alice was thoroughly puzzled. “Does the boots and shoes!” she repeated +in a wondering tone. + +“Why, what are _your_ shoes done with?” said the Gryphon. “I mean, what +makes them so shiny?” + +Alice looked down at them, and considered a little before she gave her +answer. “They’re done with blacking, I believe.” + +“Boots and shoes under the sea,” the Gryphon went on in a deep voice, +“are done with a whiting. Now you know.” + +“And what are they made of?” Alice asked in a tone of great curiosity. + +“Soles and eels, of course,” the Gryphon replied rather impatiently: +“any shrimp could have told you that.” + +“If I’d been the whiting,” said Alice, whose thoughts were still +running on the song, “I’d have said to the porpoise, ‘Keep back, +please: we don’t want _you_ with us!’” + +“They were obliged to have him with them,” the Mock Turtle said: “no +wise fish would go anywhere without a porpoise.” + +“Wouldn’t it really?” said Alice in a tone of great surprise. + +“Of course not,” said the Mock Turtle: “why, if a fish came to _me_, +and told me he was going a journey, I should say ‘With what porpoise?’” + +“Don’t you mean ‘purpose’?” said Alice. + +“I mean what I say,” the Mock Turtle replied in an offended tone. And +the Gryphon added “Come, let’s hear some of _your_ adventures.” + +“I could tell you my adventures—beginning from this morning,” said +Alice a little timidly: “but it’s no use going back to yesterday, +because I was a different person then.” + +“Explain all that,” said the Mock Turtle. + +“No, no! The adventures first,” said the Gryphon in an impatient tone: +“explanations take such a dreadful time.” + +So Alice began telling them her adventures from the time when she first +saw the White Rabbit. She was a little nervous about it just at first, +the two creatures got so close to her, one on each side, and opened +their eyes and mouths so _very_ wide, but she gained courage as she +went on. Her listeners were perfectly quiet till she got to the part +about her repeating “_You are old, Father William_,” to the +Caterpillar, and the words all coming different, and then the Mock +Turtle drew a long breath, and said “That’s very curious.” + +“It’s all about as curious as it can be,” said the Gryphon. + +“It all came different!” the Mock Turtle repeated thoughtfully. “I +should like to hear her try and repeat something now. Tell her to +begin.” He looked at the Gryphon as if he thought it had some kind of +authority over Alice. + +“Stand up and repeat ‘’_Tis the voice of the sluggard_,’” said the +Gryphon. + +“How the creatures order one about, and make one repeat lessons!” +thought Alice; “I might as well be at school at once.” However, she got +up, and began to repeat it, but her head was so full of the Lobster +Quadrille, that she hardly knew what she was saying, and the words came +very queer indeed:— + +“’Tis the voice of the Lobster; I heard him declare, +“You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair.” +As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose +Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.” + +[later editions continued as follows +When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark, +And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark, +But, when the tide rises and sharks are around, +His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.] + + +“That’s different from what _I_ used to say when I was a child,” said +the Gryphon. + +“Well, I never heard it before,” said the Mock Turtle; “but it sounds +uncommon nonsense.” + +Alice said nothing; she had sat down with her face in her hands, +wondering if anything would _ever_ happen in a natural way again. + +“I should like to have it explained,” said the Mock Turtle. + +“She can’t explain it,” said the Gryphon hastily. “Go on with the next +verse.” + +“But about his toes?” the Mock Turtle persisted. “How _could_ he turn +them out with his nose, you know?” + +“It’s the first position in dancing.” Alice said; but was dreadfully +puzzled by the whole thing, and longed to change the subject. + +“Go on with the next verse,” the Gryphon repeated impatiently: “it +begins ‘_I passed by his garden_.’” + +Alice did not dare to disobey, though she felt sure it would all come +wrong, and she went on in a trembling voice:— + +“I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye, +How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie—” + +[later editions continued as follows +The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat, +While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat. +When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon, +Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon: +While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl, +And concluded the banquet—] + + +“What _is_ the use of repeating all that stuff,” the Mock Turtle +interrupted, “if you don’t explain it as you go on? It’s by far the +most confusing thing _I_ ever heard!” + +“Yes, I think you’d better leave off,” said the Gryphon: and Alice was +only too glad to do so. + +“Shall we try another figure of the Lobster Quadrille?” the Gryphon +went on. “Or would you like the Mock Turtle to sing you a song?” + +“Oh, a song, please, if the Mock Turtle would be so kind,” Alice +replied, so eagerly that the Gryphon said, in a rather offended 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!” + + + + +CHAPTER XI. +Who Stole the Tarts? + + +The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when they +arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them—all sorts of little +birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards: the Knave was +standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on each side to guard +him; and near the King was the White Rabbit, with a trumpet in one +hand, and a scroll of parchment in the other. In the very middle of the +court was a table, with a large dish of tarts upon it: they looked so +good, that it made Alice quite hungry to look at them—“I wish they’d +get the trial done,” she thought, “and hand round the refreshments!” +But there seemed to be no chance of this, so she began looking at +everything about her, to pass away the time. + +Alice had never been in a court of justice before, but she had read +about them in books, and she was quite pleased to find that she knew +the name of nearly everything there. “That’s the judge,” she said to +herself, “because of his great wig.” + +The judge, by the way, was the King; and as he wore his crown over the +wig, (look at the frontispiece if you want to see how he did it,) he +did not look at all comfortable, and it was certainly not becoming. + +“And that’s the jury-box,” thought Alice, “and those twelve creatures,” +(she was obliged to say “creatures,” you see, because some of them were +animals, and some were birds,) “I suppose they are the jurors.” She +said this last word two or three times over to herself, being rather +proud of it: for she thought, and rightly too, that very few little +girls of her age knew the meaning of it at all. However, “jury-men” +would have done just as well. + +The twelve jurors were all writing very busily on slates. “What are +they doing?” Alice whispered to the Gryphon. “They can’t have anything +to put down yet, before the trial’s begun.” + +“They’re putting down their names,” the Gryphon whispered in reply, +“for fear they should forget them before the end of the trial.” + +“Stupid things!” Alice began in a loud, indignant voice, but she +stopped hastily, for the White Rabbit cried out, “Silence in the +court!” and the King put on his spectacles and looked anxiously round, +to make out who was talking. + +Alice could see, as well as if she were looking over their shoulders, +that all the jurors were writing down “stupid things!” on their slates, +and she could even make out that one of them didn’t know how to spell +“stupid,” and that he had to ask his neighbour to tell him. “A nice +muddle their slates’ll be in before the trial’s over!” thought Alice. + +One of the jurors had a pencil that squeaked. This of course, Alice +could _not_ stand, and she went round the court and got behind him, and +very soon found an opportunity of taking it away. She did it so quickly +that the poor little juror (it was Bill, the Lizard) could not make out +at all what had become of it; so, after hunting all about for it, he +was obliged to write with one finger for the rest of the day; and this +was of very little use, as it left no mark on the slate. + +“Herald, read the accusation!” said the King. + +On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and then +unrolled the parchment scroll, and read as follows:— + +“The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, + All on a summer day: +The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts, + And took them quite away!” + + +“Consider your verdict,” the King said to the jury. + +“Not yet, not yet!” the Rabbit hastily interrupted. “There’s a great +deal to come before that!” + +“Call the first witness,” said the King; and the White Rabbit blew +three blasts on the trumpet, and called out, “First witness!” + +The first witness was the Hatter. He came in with a teacup in one hand +and a piece of bread-and-butter in the other. “I beg pardon, your +Majesty,” he began, “for bringing these in: but I hadn’t quite finished +my tea when I was sent for.” + +“You ought to have finished,” said the King. “When did you begin?” + +The Hatter looked at the March Hare, who had followed him into the +court, arm-in-arm with the Dormouse. “Fourteenth of March, I _think_ it +was,” he said. + +“Fifteenth,” said the March Hare. + +“Sixteenth,” added the Dormouse. + +“Write that down,” the King said to the jury, and the jury eagerly +wrote down all three dates on their slates, and then added them up, and +reduced the answer to shillings and pence. + +“Take off your hat,” the King said to the Hatter. + +“It isn’t mine,” said the Hatter. + +“_Stolen!_” the King exclaimed, turning to the jury, who instantly made +a memorandum of the fact. + +“I keep them to sell,” the Hatter added as an explanation; “I’ve none +of my own. I’m a hatter.” + +Here the Queen put on her spectacles, and began staring at the Hatter, +who turned pale and fidgeted. + +“Give your evidence,” said the King; “and don’t be nervous, or I’ll +have you executed on the spot.” + +This did not seem to encourage the witness at all: he kept shifting +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 take his head off outside,” the Queen added to one of the +officers: but the Hatter was out of sight before the officer could get +to the door. + +“Call the next witness!” said the King. + +The next witness was the Duchess’s cook. She carried the pepper-box in +her hand, and Alice guessed who it was, even before she got into the +court, by the way the people near the door began sneezing all at once. + +“Give your evidence,” said the King. + +“Shan’t,” said the cook. + +The King looked anxiously at the White Rabbit, who said in a low voice, +“Your Majesty must cross-examine _this_ witness.” + +“Well, if I must, I must,” the King said, with a melancholy air, and, +after folding his arms and frowning at the cook till his eyes were +nearly out of sight, he said in a deep voice, “What are tarts made of?” + +“Pepper, mostly,” said the cook. + +“Treacle,” said a sleepy voice behind her. + +“Collar that Dormouse,” the Queen shrieked out. “Behead that Dormouse! +Turn that Dormouse out of court! Suppress him! Pinch him! Off with his +whiskers!” + +For some minutes the whole court was in confusion, getting the Dormouse +turned out, and, by the time they had settled down again, the cook had +disappeared. + +“Never mind!” said the King, with an air of great relief. “Call the +next witness.” And he added in an undertone to the Queen, “Really, my +dear, _you_ must cross-examine the next witness. It quite makes my +forehead ache!” + +Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over the list, feeling +very curious to see what the next witness would be like, “—for they +haven’t got much evidence _yet_,” she said to herself. Imagine her +surprise, when the White Rabbit read out, at the top of his shrill +little voice, the name “Alice!” + + + + +CHAPTER XII. +Alice’s Evidence + + +“Here!” cried Alice, quite forgetting in the flurry of the moment how +large she had grown in the last few minutes, and she jumped up in such +a hurry that she tipped over the jury-box with the edge of her skirt, +upsetting all the jurymen on to the heads of the crowd below, and there +they lay sprawling about, reminding her very much of a globe of +goldfish she had accidentally upset the week before. + +“Oh, I _beg_ your pardon!” she exclaimed in a tone of great dismay, and +began picking them up again as quickly as she could, for the accident +of the goldfish kept running in her head, and she had a vague sort of +idea that they must be collected at once and put back into the +jury-box, or they would die. + +“The trial cannot proceed,” said the King in a very grave voice, “until +all the jurymen are back in their proper places—_all_,” he repeated +with great emphasis, looking hard at Alice as he said so. + +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: “_Un_important, your Majesty means, of course,” he +said in a very respectful tone, but frowning and making faces at him as +he spoke. + +“_Un_important, of course, I meant,” the King hastily said, and went on +to himself in an undertone, + +“important—unimportant—unimportant—important—” as if he were trying +which word sounded best. + +Some of the jury wrote it down “important,” and some “unimportant.” +Alice could see this, as she was near enough to look over their slates; +“but it doesn’t matter a bit,” she thought to herself. + +At this moment the King, who had been for some time busily writing in +his note-book, cackled out “Silence!” and read out from his book, “Rule +Forty-two. _All persons more than a mile high to leave the court_.” + +Everybody looked at Alice. + +“_I’m_ not a mile high,” said Alice. + +“You are,” said the King. + +“Nearly two miles high,” added the Queen. + +“Well, I shan’t go, at any rate,” said Alice: “besides, that’s not a +regular rule: you invented it just now.” + +“It’s the oldest rule in the book,” said the King. + +“Then it ought to be Number One,” said Alice. + +The King turned pale, and shut his note-book hastily. “Consider your +verdict,” he said to the jury, in a low, trembling voice. + +“There’s more evidence to come yet, please your Majesty,” said the +White Rabbit, jumping up in a great hurry; “this paper has just been +picked up.” + +“What’s in it?” said the Queen. + +“I haven’t opened it yet,” said the White Rabbit, “but it seems to be a +letter, written by the prisoner to—to somebody.” + +“It must have been that,” said the King, “unless it was written to +nobody, which isn’t usual, you know.” + +“Who is it directed to?” said one of the jurymen. + +“It isn’t directed at all,” said the White Rabbit; “in fact, there’s +nothing written on the _outside_.” He unfolded the paper as he spoke, +and added “It isn’t a letter, after all: it’s a set of verses.” + +“Are they in the prisoner’s handwriting?” asked another of the jurymen. + +“No, they’re not,” said the White Rabbit, “and that’s the queerest +thing about it.” (The jury all looked puzzled.) + +“He must have imitated somebody else’s hand,” said the King. (The jury +all brightened up again.) + +“Please your Majesty,” said the Knave, “I didn’t write it, and they +can’t prove I did: there’s no name signed at the end.” + +“If you didn’t sign it,” said the King, “that only makes the matter +worse. You _must_ have meant some mischief, or else you’d have signed +your name like an honest man.” + +There was a general clapping of hands at this: it was the first really +clever thing the King had said that day. + +“That _proves_ his guilt,” said the Queen. + +“It proves nothing of the sort!” said Alice. “Why, you don’t even know +what they’re about!” + +“Read them,” said the King. + +The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. “Where shall I begin, please +your Majesty?” he asked. + +“Begin at the beginning,” the King said gravely, “and go on till you +come to the end: then stop.” + +These were the verses the White Rabbit read:— + +“They told me you had been to her, + And mentioned me to him: +She gave me a good character, + But said I could not swim. + +He sent them word I had not gone + (We know it to be true): +If she should push the matter on, + What would become of you? + +I gave her one, they gave him two, + You gave us three or more; +They all returned from him to you, + Though they were mine before. + +If I or she should chance to be + Involved in this affair, +He trusts to you to set them free, + Exactly as we were. + +My notion was that you had been + (Before she had this fit) +An obstacle that came between + Him, and ourselves, and it. + +Don’t let him know she liked them best, + For this must ever be +A secret, kept from all the rest, + Between yourself and me.” + + +“That’s the most important piece of evidence we’ve heard yet,” said the +King, rubbing his hands; “so now let the jury—” + +“If any one of them can explain it,” said Alice, (she had grown so +large in the last few minutes that she wasn’t a bit afraid of +interrupting him,) “I’ll give him sixpence. _I_ don’t believe there’s +an atom of meaning in it.” + +The jury all wrote down on their slates, “_She_ doesn’t believe there’s +an atom of meaning in it,” but none of them attempted to explain the +paper. + +“If there’s no meaning in it,” said the King, “that saves a world of +trouble, you know, as we needn’t try to find any. And yet I don’t +know,” he went on, spreading out the verses on his knee, and looking at +them with one eye; “I seem to see some meaning in them, after all. +“—_said I could not swim_—” you can’t swim, can you?” he added, turning +to the Knave. + +The Knave shook his head sadly. “Do I look like it?” he said. (Which he +certainly did _not_, being made entirely of cardboard.) + +“All right, so far,” said the King, and he went on muttering over the +verses to himself: “‘_We know it to be true_—’ that’s the jury, of +course—‘_I gave her one, they gave him two_—’ why, that must be what he +did with the tarts, you know—” + +“But, it goes on ‘_they all returned from him to you_,’” said Alice. + +“Why, there they are!” said the King triumphantly, pointing to the +tarts on the table. “Nothing can be clearer than _that_. Then +again—‘_before she had this fit_—’ you never had fits, my dear, I +think?” he said to the Queen. + +“Never!” said the Queen furiously, throwing an inkstand at the Lizard +as she spoke. (The unfortunate little Bill had left off writing on his +slate with one finger, as he found it made no mark; but he now hastily +began again, using the ink, that was trickling down his face, as long +as it lasted.) + +“Then the words don’t _fit_ you,” said the King, looking round the +court with a smile. There was a dead silence. + +“It’s a pun!” the King added in an offended tone, and everybody +laughed, “Let the jury consider their verdict,” the King said, for +about the twentieth time that day. + +“No, no!” said the Queen. “Sentence first—verdict afterwards.” + +“Stuff and nonsense!” said Alice loudly. “The idea of having the +sentence first!” + +“Hold your tongue!” said the Queen, turning purple. + +“I won’t!” said Alice. + +“Off with her head!” the Queen shouted at the top of her voice. Nobody +moved. + +“Who cares for you?” said Alice, (she had grown to her full size by +this time.) “You’re nothing but a pack of cards!” + +At this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came flying down upon +her: she gave a little scream, half of fright and half of anger, and +tried to beat them off, and found herself lying on the bank, with her +head in the lap of her sister, who was gently brushing away some dead +leaves that had fluttered down from the trees upon her face. + +“Wake up, Alice dear!” said her sister; “Why, what a long sleep you’ve +had!” + +“Oh, I’ve had such a curious dream!” said Alice, and she told her +sister, as well as she could remember them, all these strange +Adventures of hers that you have just been reading about; and when she +had finished, her sister kissed her, and said, “It _was_ a curious +dream, dear, certainly: but now run in to your tea; it’s getting late.” +So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might, +what a wonderful dream it had been. + + +But her sister sat still just as she left her, leaning her head on her +hand, watching the setting sun, and thinking of little Alice and all +her wonderful Adventures, till she too began dreaming after a fashion, +and this was her dream:— + +First, she dreamed of little Alice herself, and once again the tiny +hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes were +looking up into hers—she could hear the very tones of her voice, and +see that queer little toss of her head to keep back the wandering hair +that _would_ always get into her eyes—and still as she listened, or +seemed to listen, the whole place around her became alive with 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 the 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 \ No newline at end of file