Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
“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!”