THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS
And What Alice Found There
By Lewis Carroll
The Millennium Fulcrum Edition 1.7
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
(_As arranged before commencement of game._)
WHITE RED.
PIECES. PAWNS. PAWNS. PIECES.
Tweedledee. Daisy. Daisy. Humpty Dumpty.
Unicorn. Haigha. Messenger. Carpenter.
Sheep. Oyster. Oyster. Walrus.
W. Queen. “Lily.” Tiger-lily. R. Queen.
W. King. Fawn. Rose. R. King.
Aged man. Oyster. Oyster. Crow.
W. Knight. Hatta. Frog. R. Knight.
Tweedledum. Daisy. Daisy. Lion.
_RED._
_WHITE._
White Pawn (Alice) to play, and win in eleven moves.
1. Alice meets R. Q.
1. R. Q. to K. R.’s 4th
2. Alice through Q.’s 3d (_by railway_) to 4th (_Tweedledum and Tweedledee_)
2. W. Q. to Q. B.’s 4th (_after shawl_)
3. Alice meets W. Q. (_with shawl_)
3. W. Q. to Q.B.’s 5th (_becomes sheep_)
4. Alice to Q.’s 5th (_shop, river, shop_)
4. W. Q. to K. B.’s 8th (_leaves egg on shelf_)
5. Alice to Q.’s 6th (_Humpty Dumpty_)
5. W. Q. to Q. B.’s 8th (_flying from R. Kt._)
6. Alice to Q.’s 7th (_forest_)
6. R. Kt. to K.’s 2nd (ch.)
7. W.Kt. takes R.Kt.
7. W. Kt. to K. B’s 5th
8. Alice to Q.’s 8th (_coronation_)
8. R. Q. to K.’s sq. (_examination_)
9. Alice becomes Queen
9. Queens castle
10. Alice castles (_feast_)
10. W.Q. to Q.R.’s 6th (_soup_)
11. Alice takes R.Q. & wins
Child of the pure unclouded brow
And dreaming eyes of wonder!
Though time be fleet, and I and thou
Are half a life asunder,
Thy loving smile will surely hail
The love-gift of a fairy-tale.
I have not seen thy sunny face,
Nor heard thy silver laughter;
No thought of me shall find a place
In thy young life’s hereafter—
Enough that now thou wilt not fail
To listen to my fairy-tale.
A tale begun in other days,
When summer suns were glowing—
A simple chime, that served to time
The rhythm of our rowing—
Whose echoes live in memory yet,
Though envious years would say ‘forget.’
Come, hearken then, ere voice of dread,
With bitter tidings laden,
Shall summon to unwelcome bed
A melancholy maiden!
We are but older children, dear,
Who fret to find our bedtime near.
Without, the frost, the blinding snow,
The storm-wind’s moody madness—
Within, the firelight’s ruddy glow,
And childhood’s nest of gladness.
The magic words shall hold thee fast:
Thou shalt not heed the raving blast.
And though the shadow of a sigh
May tremble through the story,
For ‘happy summer days’ gone by,
And vanish’d summer glory—
It shall not touch with breath of bale
The pleasance of our fairy-tale.
Contents
CHAPTER I. Looking-Glass house
CHAPTER II. The Garden of Live Flowers
CHAPTER III. Looking-Glass Insects
CHAPTER IV. Tweedledum And Tweedledee
CHAPTER V. Wool and Water
CHAPTER VI. Humpty Dumpty
CHAPTER VII. The Lion and the Unicorn
CHAPTER VIII. “It’s my own Invention”
CHAPTER IX. Queen Alice
CHAPTER X. Shaking
CHAPTER XI. Waking
CHAPTER XII. Which Dreamed it?
CHAPTER I.
Looking-Glass house
One thing was certain, that the _white_ kitten had had nothing to do
with it:—it was the black kitten’s fault entirely. For the white kitten
had been having its face washed by the old cat for the last quarter of
an hour (and bearing it pretty well, considering); so you see that it
_couldn’t_ have had any hand in the mischief.
The way Dinah washed her children’s faces was this: first she held the
poor thing down by its ear with one paw, and then with the other paw
she rubbed its face all over, the wrong way, beginning at the nose: and
just now, as I said, she was hard at work on the white kitten, which
was lying quite still and trying to purr—no doubt feeling that it was
all meant for its good.
But the black kitten had been finished with earlier in the afternoon,
and so, while Alice was sitting curled up in a corner of the great
arm-chair, half talking to herself and half asleep, the kitten had been
having a grand game of romps with the ball of worsted Alice had been
trying to wind up, and had been rolling it up and down till it had all
come undone again; and there it was, spread over the hearth-rug, all
knots and tangles, with the kitten running after its own tail in the
middle.
“Oh, you wicked little thing!” cried Alice, catching up the kitten, and
giving it a little kiss to make it understand that it was in disgrace.
“Really, Dinah ought to have taught you better manners! You _ought_,
Dinah, you know you ought!” she added, looking reproachfully at the old
cat, and speaking in as cross a voice as she could manage—and then she
scrambled back into the arm-chair, taking the kitten and the worsted
with her, and began winding up the ball again. But she didn’t get on
very fast, as she was talking all the time, sometimes to the kitten,
and sometimes to herself. Kitty sat very demurely on her knee,
pretending to watch the progress of the winding, and now and then
putting out one paw and gently touching the ball, as if it would be
glad to help, if it might.
“Do you know what to-morrow is, Kitty?” Alice began. “You’d have
guessed if you’d been up in the window with me—only Dinah was making
you tidy, so you couldn’t. I was watching the boys getting in sticks
for the bonfire—and it wants plenty of sticks, Kitty! Only it got so
cold, and it snowed so, they had to leave off. Never mind, Kitty, we’ll
go and see the bonfire to-morrow.” Here Alice wound two or three turns
of the worsted round the kitten’s neck, just to see how it would look:
this led to a scramble, in which the ball rolled down upon the floor,
and yards and yards of it got unwound again.
“Do you know, I was so angry, Kitty,” Alice went on as soon as they
were comfortably settled again, “when I saw all the mischief you had
been doing, I was very nearly opening the window, and putting you out
into the snow! And you’d have deserved it, you little mischievous
darling! What have you got to say for yourself? Now don’t interrupt
me!” she went on, holding up one finger. “I’m going to tell you all
your faults. Number one: you squeaked twice while Dinah was washing
your face this morning. Now you can’t deny it, Kitty: I heard you!
What’s that you say?” (pretending that the kitten was speaking.) “Her
paw went into your eye? Well, that’s _your_ fault, for keeping your
eyes open—if you’d shut them tight up, it wouldn’t have happened. Now
don’t make any more excuses, but listen! Number two: you pulled
Snowdrop away by the tail just as I had put down the saucer of milk
before her! What, you were thirsty, were you? How do you know she
wasn’t thirsty too? Now for number three: you unwound every bit of the
worsted while I wasn’t looking!
“That’s three faults, Kitty, and you’ve not been punished for any of
them yet. You know I’m saving up all your punishments for Wednesday
week—Suppose they had saved up all _my_ punishments!” she went on,
talking more to herself than the kitten. “What _would_ they do at the
end of a year? I should be sent to prison, I suppose, when the day
came. Or—let me see—suppose each punishment was to be going without a
dinner: then, when the miserable day came, I should have to go without
fifty dinners at once! Well, I shouldn’t mind _that_ much! I’d far
rather go without them than eat them!
“Do you hear the snow against the window-panes, Kitty? How nice and
soft it sounds! Just as if some one was kissing the window all over
outside. I wonder if the snow _loves_ the trees and fields, that it
kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with
a white quilt; and perhaps it says, ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the
summer comes again.’ And when they wake up in the summer, Kitty, they
dress themselves all in green, and dance about—whenever the wind
blows—oh, that’s very pretty!” cried Alice, dropping the ball of
worsted to clap her hands. “And I do so _wish_ it was true! I’m sure
the woods look sleepy in the autumn, when the leaves are getting brown.
“Kitty, can you play chess? Now, don’t smile, my dear, I’m asking it
seriously. Because, when we were playing just now, you watched just as
if you understood it: and when I said ‘Check!’ you purred! Well, it
_was_ a nice check, Kitty, and really I might have won, if it hadn’t
been for that nasty Knight, that came wiggling down among my pieces.
Kitty, dear, let’s pretend—” And here I wish I could tell you half the
things Alice used to say, beginning with her favourite phrase “Let’s
pretend.” She had had quite a long argument with her sister only the
day before—all because Alice had begun with “Let’s pretend we’re kings
and queens;” and her sister, who liked being very exact, had argued
that they couldn’t, because there were only two of them, and Alice had
been reduced at last to say, “Well, _you_ can be one of them then, and
_I’ll_ be all the rest.” And once she had really frightened her old
nurse by shouting suddenly in her ear, “Nurse! Do let’s pretend that
I’m a hungry hyaena, and you’re a bone.”
But this is taking us away from Alice’s speech to the kitten. “Let’s
pretend that you’re the Red Queen, Kitty! Do you know, I think if you
sat up and folded your arms, you’d look exactly like her. Now do try,
there’s a dear!” And Alice got the Red Queen off the table, and set it
up before the kitten as a model for it to imitate: however, the thing
didn’t succeed, principally, Alice said, because the kitten wouldn’t
fold its arms properly. So, to punish it, she held it up to the
Looking-glass, that it might see how sulky it was—“and if you’re not
good directly,” she added, “I’ll put you through into Looking-glass
House. How would you like _that_?”
“Now, if you’ll only attend, Kitty, and not talk so much, I’ll tell you
all my ideas about Looking-glass House. First, there’s the room you can
see through the glass—that’s just the same as our drawing room, only
the things go the other way. I can see all of it when I get upon a
chair—all but the bit behind the fireplace. Oh! I do so wish I could
see _that_ bit! I want so much to know whether they’ve a fire in the
winter: you never _can_ tell, you know, unless our fire smokes, and
then smoke comes up in that room too—but that may be only pretence,
just to make it look as if they had a fire. Well then, the books are
something like our books, only the words go the wrong way; I know that,
because I’ve held up one of our books to the glass, and then they hold
up one in the other room.
“How would you like to live in Looking-glass House, Kitty? I wonder if
they’d give you milk in there? Perhaps Looking-glass milk isn’t good to
drink—But oh, Kitty! now we come to the passage. You can just see a
little _peep_ of the passage in Looking-glass House, if you leave the
door of our drawing-room wide open: and it’s very like our passage as
far as you can see, only you know it may be quite different on beyond.
Oh, Kitty! how nice it would be if we could only get through into
Looking-glass House! I’m sure it’s got, oh! such beautiful things in
it! Let’s pretend there’s a way of getting through into it, somehow,
Kitty. Let’s pretend the glass has got all soft like gauze, so that we
can get through. Why, it’s turning into a sort of mist now, I declare!
It’ll be easy enough to get through—” She was up on the chimney-piece
while she said this, though she hardly knew how she had got there. And
certainly the glass _was_ beginning to melt away, just like a bright
silvery mist.