 Chapter 7 of Through the Looking Glass This is a LibraVox recording. All LibraVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibraVox.org. Recording by Darla Ely Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll Chapter 7 The Lion and the Unicorn The next moment, soldiers came running through the wood, at first in twos and threes, then ten or twenty together, and at last in such crowds that they seemed to fill the whole forest. Alice got behind a tree, for fear of being run over and watched them go by. She thought that in all her life she had never seen soldiers so uncertain on their feet. They were always tripping over something or other, and whenever one went down several more always fell over him, so that the ground was soon covered with little heaps of men. Then came the horses. Having four feet, these managed rather better than the foot soldiers, but even they stumbled now and then, and it seemed to be a regular rule that, whenever a horse stumbled, the rider fell off instantly. The confusion got worse every moment, and Alice was very glad to get out of the wood into an open place where she found the white king seated on the ground, busily riding in his memorandum book. I've sent them all, the king cried in a tone of delight, on seeing Alice. Did you happen to meet any soldiers, my dear, as you came through the wood? Yes, I did, said Alice, several thousand I should think. Four thousand two hundred and seven, that's the exact number, the king said, referring to his book. I couldn't send all the horses, you know, because two of them are wanted in the game, and I haven't sent the two messengers either. They're both gone to the town. Just look along the road and tell me if you can see either of them. I see nobody on the road, said Alice. I only wish I had such eyes, the king remarked in a fretful tone, to be able to see nobody, and at that distance, too, why it's as much as I can do to see real people by this light. All this was lost on Alice, who was still looking intently along the road, shading her eyes with one hand. I see somebody now, she exclaimed at last. But he's coming very slowly, in what curious attitudes he goes into. For the messenger kept skipping up and down and wriggling like an eel as he came along, with his great hands spread out like fans on each side. Not at all, said the king. He's an Anglo-Saxon messenger, and those are Anglo-Saxon attitudes. He only does them when he's happy. His name is Hare. He pronounced it so as to rhyme with Mayor. I love my love with an H. Alice couldn't tell, beginning. Because he is happy, I hate him with an H, because he is hideous. I've fed him with ham sandwiches and hay. His name is Hare, and he lives on the hill. The king remarked simply without the least idea that he was joining in the game, while Alice was still hesitating for the name of a town beginning with H. The other messengers called Hata. I must have two, you know, to come and go, one to come and one to go. I beg here pardon, said Alice. It isn't respectable to beg, said the king. I only meant that I didn't understand, said Alice. Why one to come and one to go? Didn't I tell you, the king repeated impatiently, I must have two, to fetch and carry, one to fetch and one to carry. At this moment the messenger arrived. He was far too much out of breath to say a word, and could only wave his hands about and make the most fearful faces at the poor king. This young lady loves you with an H, the king said, introducing Alice in the hope of turning off the messenger's attention from himself. But it was no use. The Anglo-Saxon attitudes only got more extraordinary every moment, while the great eyes rolled wildly from side to side. You alarm me, said the king. I feel faint. Give me a ham sandwich. On which the messenger, to Alice's great amusement, opened a bag that hung round his neck and handed a sandwich to the king, who devoured it greedily. Another sandwich, said the king. There is nothing but hay left now, the messenger said, peeping into the bag. Hay, then, the king murmured in a faint whisper. Alice was glad to see that it revived him a good deal. There's nothing like eating hay when you're faint, he remarked to her as he munched away. I should think throwing cold water over you would be better, Alice suggested, or some salvolatile. I didn't say there was nothing better, the king replied. I said there was nothing like it, which Alice did not venture to deny. Who did you pass on the road? the king went on, holding out his hand to the messenger for some more hay. Nobody, said the messenger. Quite right, said the king. This young lady saw him, too, so, of course, nobody walks slower than you. I do my best, the messenger said in a sulky tone. I'm sure nobody walks much faster than I do. He can't do that, said the king, or else he'd have been here first. However, now you've got your breath, you may tell us what's happened in the town. I'll whisper it, said the messenger, putting his hands to his mouth in the shape of a trumpet, and stooping so as to get close to the king's ear. Alice was sorry for this, as she wanted to hear the news, too. However, instead of whispering, he simply shouted at the top of his voice, They're at it again! Do you call that a whisper? cried the poor king, jumping up and shaking himself. If you do such a thing again, I'll have you buttered. It went through and through my head like an earthquake. It would have to be a very tiny earthquake, thought Alice. Who are at it again? she ventured to ask. Why, the lion and the unicorn, of course, said the king. Fighting for the crown? Yes, to be sure, said the king, and the best of the joke is that it's my crown all the while. Let's run and see them. And they trotted off, Alice repeating to herself as she ran the words of the old song. The lion and the unicorn were fighting for the crown. The lion beat the unicorn all round the town. Some gave them white bread and some gave them brown. Some gave them plum cake and drummed them out of town. Thus the one that wins get the crown. She asked as well as she could for the run was putting her quite out of breath. Dear me, no, said the king. What an idea! Would you be good enough, Alice panted out after running a little further to stop a minute just to get once breath again? I'm good enough, the king said. Only I'm not strong enough. You see, a minute goes by so fearfully quick. You might as well try to stop a band or snatch. Alice had no more breath for talking, so they trotted on in silence till they came in sight of a great crowd in the middle of which the lion and the unicorn were fighting. They were in such a cloud of dust that at first Alice could not make out which was which, but she soon managed to distinguish the unicorn by his horn. They placed themselves close to where Hatha, the other messenger, was standing watching the fight with a cup of tea in one hand and a piece of bread and butter in the other. He's only just thought of prison and he hadn't finished his tea when he was sent in, Haya whispered to Alice. And they only give them oyster shells in there, so you see he's very hungry and thirsty. How are you, dear child? He went on, putting his arm affectionately round Hatha's neck. Hatha looked round and nodded and went on with his bread and butter. Were you happy in prison, dear child? said Haya. Hatha looked round once more and this time a tear or two trickled down his cheek, but not a word would he say. Speak, can't you? Haya cried impatiently, but Hatha only munched away and drank some more tea. Speak, won't you? cried the king. How are they getting on with the fight? Hatha made a desperate effort and swallowed a large piece of bread and butter. They're getting on very well, he said in a choking voice. Each of them has been down about eighty-seven times. Then I suppose they'll soon bring the white bread and the brown Alice ventured to remark. It's waiting for them now, said Hatha. This is a bit of it as I am eating. There was a pause in the fight just then and the lion and the unicorn sat down panting while the king called out, ten minutes allowed for refreshments. Haya and Hatha set to work at once, carrying rough trays of white and brown bread. Alice took a piece to taste, but it was very dry. I don't think they'll fight any more today, the king said to Hatha. Go and order the drums to begin, and Hatha went bounding away like a grasshopper. For a minute or two Alice stood silent, watching him. Suddenly she brightened up. Look, look! she cried, pointing eagerly. There's the white queen running across the country. She came flying out of the wood over Yonder. How fast those queens can run! There's some enemy after her, no doubt, the king said, without even looking round. That wood's full of them. But aren't you going to run and help her? Alice asked, very much surprised at his taking it so quietly. No use, no use, said the king. She runs so fearfully quick. He might as well try to catch a band or snatch, but I'll make a memorandum about her, if you like. She's a dear good creature. He repeated softly to himself as he opened his memorandum book. Do you spell creature with a double E? At this moment the unicorn sauntered by them with his hands in his pockets. I had the best of it this time, he said to the king, just glancing at him as he passed. A little, a little, the king replied rather nervously. I shouldn't have run him through with your horn, you know. It didn't hurt him, the unicorn said carelessly, and he was going on when his eye happened to fall upon Alice. He turned round rather instantly and stood for some time looking at her with an air of the deepest disgust. What is this? he said at last. This is a child. Hare replied eagerly, coming in front of Alice to introduce her and spreading out both his hands towards her in an Anglo-Saxon attitude. We only found it today. It's as large as life and twice as natural. I always thought they were fabulous monsters, said the unicorn. Is it alive? It can dock, said Hare solemnly. The unicorn looked dreamily at Alice and said, talk, child. Alice could not help her lips curling up into a smile as she began. Do you know I always thought unicorns were fabulous monsters, too? I never saw one alive before. Well, now that we have seen each other, said the unicorn, if you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you. Is that a bargain? Yes, if you'd like, said Alice. Come fetch out the plum cake, old man, the unicorn went on turning from her to the king. None of your brown bread for me. Certainly, certainly, the king muttered and beckoned to Hare. Open the bag, he whispered, quick, not that one that's full of hay. Hare took a large cake out of the bag and gave it to Alice to hold while he got out a dish and carving knife. When all came out of it Alice couldn't guess. It was just like a conjuring trick, she thought. The lion had joined them while this was going on. He looked very tired and sleepy and his eyes were half shut. What's this? he said, blinking lazily at Alice and speaking in a deep hollow tone that sounded like the tolling of a great bell. Ah, what is it now? the unicorn cried eagerly. You'll never guess. I couldn't. The lion looked at Alice wearily. Are you animal, vegetable, or mineral? he said, yawning at every other word. It's a fabulous monster, the unicorn cried out before Alice could reply. Then, hand round the plum cake, monster, the lion said, lying down and putting his chin on his paws. Sit down, both of you, to the king and the unicorn. Fair play with the cake, you know. The king was evidently very uncomfortable at having to sit down between the two great creatures, but there was no other place for him. What a fight we might have for the crown now, the unicorn said, looking slyly up at the crown, which the poor king was nearly shaking off his head he trembled so much. I should win easy, said the lion. I'm not so sure of that, said the unicorn. Why, I beat you all around the town, you chicken, the lion replied angrily, half getting up as he spoke. Here the king interrupted to prevent the quarrel going on. He was very nervous, and his voice quite quivered. All around the town, he said, that's a good long way. Did you go by the old bridge, or the marketplace? You get the best view by the old bridge. I'm sure I don't know, the lion growled out as he lay down again. There was too much dust to see anything. What a time the monster is, having cutting up that cake. Alice had seated herself on the bank of a little brook, with the great dish on her knees and was sawing away diligently with the knife. It's very provoking, she said, and replied to the lion. She was getting quite used to being called the monster. I've cut several slices already, but they always join on again. You don't know how to manage looking glass cakes, the unicorn remarked. Hand it round first and cut it afterwards. This sounded nonsense, but Alice very obediently got up and carried the dish round, and the cake divided itself into three pieces as she did so. Now cut it up, said the lion as she returned to her place with the empty dish. I say, this isn't fair, cried the unicorn, as Alice sat with the knife in her hand, very much puzzled how to begin. The monster has given the lion twice as much as me. She's kept none for herself anyhow, said the lion. Do you like plum cake, monster? But before Alice could answer him the drums began. Where the noise came from, she couldn't make out. The air seemed full of it, and it rang through and through her head till she felt quite deafened. She started to her feet and sprang across the little brook in her terror, and had just time to see the lion and the unicorn rise to their feet with angry looks at being interrupted in their feast, before she dropped to her knees and put her hands over her ears, vainly trying to shut out the dreadful uproar. If that doesn't drum them out of town, she thought to herself, nothing ever will. End of Chapter 7 The Lion and the Unicorn Chapter 8 Through the Looking Glass This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Ernst Patinama. Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll. Chapter 8 It's My Own Invention After a while, the noise seemed gradually to die away, till all was dead silence, and Alice lifted up her head in some alarm. There was no one to be seen, and her first thought was that she must have been dreaming about the lion and the unicorn and her square Anglo-Saxon messengers. However, there was the great dish still lying at her feet, on which she had tried to cut the plum cake. So I wasn't dreaming after all, she said to herself. Unless, unless we're all part of the same dream. Only I do hope it's my dream and not the Red Kings. I don't like belonging to another person's dream. She went on in a rather complaining tone. I have a great mind to go and wake him and see what happens. At this moment, her thoughts were interrupted by a loud shouting of Ahoy! Ahoy! Jack! And a night dressed in crimson armour came galloping down upon her, brandishing a great club. Just as he reached her, the horse stopped suddenly. You're my prisoner! The night cried as he tumbled off his horse. Started as she was, Alice was more frightened for him than for herself at the moment and watched him with some anxiety as he mounted again. As soon as he was comfortably in the saddle, he began once more. You're my... But here another voice broke in. Ahoy! Ahoy! Jack! And Alice looked round in some surprise for the new enemy. This time it was a white knight. He drew up at Alice's side and tumbled off his horse just as the red knight had done. Then he got on again and the two knights sat and looked at each other for some time without speaking. Alice looked from one to the other in some bewilderment. She's my prisoner, you know. The red knight said at last. Yes, but then I came and rescued her. The white knight replied. Well, we must fight for her then, said the red knight. As he took up his helmet, which hung from the saddle and was something in the shape of a horse's head, and put it on. You will observe the rules of battle, of course? The white knight remarked, putting on his helmet too. I always do, said the red knight. And they began banging away at each other with such fury that Alice got behind a tree to be out of the way of the blows. I wonder now what the rules of battle are? She said to herself as she watched the fight timidly peeping out from her hiding place. One rule seems to be that if one knight hits the other, he knocks him off his horse, and if he misses, he tumbles off himself. And another rule seems to be that they hold a clups with their arms as if they were punching Judy. What a noise they make when they tumble. Just like a whole set of fire irons falling into the fender and how quiet the horses are, they let them get on and off them just as if they were tables. Another rule of battle that Alice had not noticed seemed to be that they always fell on their heads and a battle ended with them both falling off in this way side by side. When they got up again, they shook hands and then the red knight mounted and galloped off. It was a glorious victory, wasn't it? said the white knight as he came up panting. I don't know, Alice had doubtfully. I don't want to be anybody's prisoner. I want to be a queen. So you will when you've crossed the next brook, said a white knight. I'll see you safe to the end of the wood, and then I must go back, you know. That's the end of my move. Thank you very much, said Alice. May I help you off with your helmet? It was evidently more than he could manage by himself. However, she managed to shake him out of it at last. Now one can breathe more easily, said the knight, putting back his shaggy hair with both hands and turning his gentle face and large, mild eyes to Alice. She thought she had never seen such a strange-looking soldier in all her life. He was dressed in tin armor, which seemed to fit him very badly, and he had a queer-shaped little div box fastened across his shoulder, upside down, and with the lid hanging open. Alice looked at it with great curiosity. I see you're admiring my little box, the knight said in a friendly tone. It's my own invention to keep clothes and sandwiches in. You see I carry it upside down so that the rain can't get in. But the things can get out, Alice gently remarked. Do you know the lid's open? I didn't know it, the knight said, a shade of excation passing over his face. Then all the things must have fallen out, and the box is no use without him. He unfastened it, as he spoke, and was just going to throw it into the bushes when a sudden thought seemed to strike him, and he hung it carefully on a tree. Can you guess why I did that? he said to Alice. Alice shook her head. In hopes some bees may make a nest in it, then I should get the honey. But you've got a beehive or something like one fastened to the saddle, said Alice. Yes, it's a very good beehive, the knight said in a discontented tone. One of the best kind, but not a single bee has come near it yet. Any other thing is a mousetrap. I suppose the mice keep the bees out, or the bees keep the mice out, I don't know which. I was wondering what the mousetrap was for, said Alice. It isn't very likely there would be any mice in the horse's back. Not very likely perhaps, said the knight. But if they do come, I don't choose to have them running all about. You see, he went on after a pause. It's as well to be provided for everything. That's the reason the horse has all those anklets around his feet. But what are they for? Alice asked in a turn of great curiosity. To guard against the bites of sharks, the knight replied. It's an invention of my own. And now help me on. I'll go with you to the end of the wood. What's the dish for? It's meant for plum cake, said Alice. We'd better take it with us, the knight said. It'll come in handy if we find any plum cake. Help me to get it into this bag. This took a very long time to manage, though Alice held the bag open very carefully, because the knight was so very awkward in putting in the dish. The first two or three times that he tried, he fell in himself instead. It's rather a tight fit, you see. He said, as he got it in at last. There are so many candlesticks in the bag. And he hung it to the saddle, which was already loaded with bunches of carrots and fire irons and many other things. I hope you've got your hair well fastened on. He continued, as he set off. Only in a usual way, Alice said, smiling. That's hardly enough, he said anxiously. You see, the wind is so very strong here. It's as strong as soup. Have you invented a plan for keeping the hair from being blown off? Alice inquired. Not yet, said the knight. But I've got a plan for keeping it from falling off. I should like to hear it very much. First you take an upright stick, said the knight. Then you make your hair creep up it, like a fruit tree. Now, the reason hair falls off is because it hangs down. Things never fall upwards, you know. It's a plan of my own invention. You may try it, if you like. It didn't sound a comfortable plan, Alice thought. And for a few minutes she walked on in silence, puzzling over the idea and every now and then stopping to help the poor knight who certainly was not a good rider. Whenever the horse stopped, which it did very often, he fell off in front, and whenever it went on again, which it generally did rather suddenly, he fell off behind. Otherwise he kept on pretty well, except that he had a habit of now and then falling off sideways, and as he generally did this on the side in which Alice was walking, she soon found that it was the best plan to go out to walk quite close to the horse. I'm afraid you've not had much practice in riding, she ventured to say, as she was helping him up from his fifth tumble. The knight looked very much surprised and a little offended at the remark. What makes you say that? He asked, as he scrambled back into the saddle, keeping hold of Alice's hair with one hand to save himself from falling over on the other side. Because people don't fall off quite so often when they've had much practice. I've had plenty of practice, the knight said very gravely, plenty of practice. Alice could think of nothing better to say than, indeed, but she said it as heartily as she could. They went on a little way in silence after this. The knight with his eyes shut, muttering to himself, and Alice watching anxiously for the next tumble. The great art of riding, the knight suddenly began in a loud voice, waving his right arm as he spoke, is to keep. Here the sentence ended as suddenly as it had begun, as the knight fell heavily on the top of his head, exactly in the path where Alice was walking. She was quite frightened this time and sat in an anxious stone as she picked him up. I hope no bones are broken. None to speak of, the knight said, as if he didn't mind breaking two or three of them. The great art of riding, as I was saying, is to keep your balance properly, like this, you know. He let go the bridle and stretched out both his arms to show Alice what he meant. And this time he fell flat on his back, right under the horse's feet. Plenty of practice. He went on repeating all the time that Alice was getting him on his feet again. Plenty of practice. It's too ridiculous, cried Alice, losing all her patience this time. You ought to have a wooden horse and wheels that you ought. Does that kind go smoothly? The knight asked in a tone of great interest, clasping his arms round the horse's neck as he spoke, just in time to save himself from tumbling off again. Much more smoothly than a life horse, Alice said, with a little scream of laughter, in spite of all she could do to prevent it. I'll get one, the knight said thoughtfully to himself, one or two, several. There was a short silence after this, and then the knight went on again. I am a great hand at inventing things. Now, I dare say you noticed that last time you picked me up that I was looking rather thoughtful? You were a little grave, said Alice. Well, just then I was inventing a new way of getting over a gate. Would you like to hear it? Very much indeed, Alice said politely. I'll tell you how I came to think of it, said the knight. You see, I said to myself, the only difficulty is with the feet. The head is high enough already. Now, first I put my head on the top of the gate, then I stand on my head, then the feet are high enough, you see. Then I'm over, you see. Yes, I suppose you'd be over when that was done, Alice said thoughtfully. But don't you think it would be rather hard? I haven't tried it yet, the knight said gravely, so I can't tell for certain, but I'm afraid it would be a little hard. He looked so vexed at the idea that Alice changed the subject hastily. What a curious helmet you've got, she said cheerfully. Is that your invention, too? The knight looked down proudly at his helmet, which hung from the saddle. Yes, he said, but I've invented a better one than that, like a sugarloaf. When I used to wear it if I fell off the horse, it always touched the ground directly, so I had a very little way to fall, you see. But there was the danger of falling into it, to be sure. That happened to me once, and the worst of it was, before I could get out again, the other white knight came and put it on. He thought it was his own helmet. The knight looked so solemn about it, that Alice did not dare to love. I'm afraid you must have hurt him, she said in a trembling voice, being on the top of his head. I had to kick him, of course, the knight said very seriously, and then he took the helmet off again, but it took hours and hours to get me out. It was as fast as, as lightning, you know. But that's a different kind of fastness, Alice objected. The knight shook his head. It was all kinds of fastness with me, I can assure you, he said. He raised his hands in some excitement as he said this, and instantly rolled out of the saddle and fell headlong into a deep ditch. Alice ran to the side of the ditch to look for him. She was rather startled by the fall, as for some time he had kept on very well, and she was afraid that he really was hurt this time. However, though she could see nothing but the soles of his feet, she was much relieved to hear that he was talking on in his usual tone. All kinds of fastness, he repeated, but it was careless of him to put another man's helmet on with the man in it, too. How can you go on talking so quietly head downwards? Alice asked, as she dragged him out by the feet and laid him in a heap on the bank. The knight looked surprised at the question. What does it matter where my body happens to be, he said. My mind goes on working all the same. In fact, the more head downwards I am, the more I keep inventing new things. Now, the cleverest thing the saw that I ever did, he went on after a pause, was inventing a new pudding during the meat course. In time to have it cooked for the next course, said Alice. Well, not the next course, the knight said in a slow, thoughtful tone. No, certainly not the next course. Then it would have to be the next day. I suppose she wouldn't have two pudding courses in one dinner. Well, not the next day, the knight repeated us before. Not the next day. In fact, he went on holding his head down and his voice getting lower and lower. I don't believe that pudding ever was cooked. In fact, I don't believe that pudding ever will be cooked and yet it was a very clever pudding to invent. What did you mean it to be made of? Alice asked, hoping to cheer him up for the poor knight seemed quite low-spirited about it. It began with blotting paper, the knight answered with a groan. That wouldn't be very nice, I'm afraid. Not very nice, alone, he interrupted quite eagerly, but you've no idea what a difference it makes mixing it with other things such as gunpowder and sealing wax. And here I must leave you. They had just come to the end of the wood. Alice could only look puzzled. She was thinking of the pudding. You are sad, the knight said in an anxious tone. Let me sing you a song to comfort you. Is it very long? Alice asked, for she had heard a good deal of poetry that day. It's long, said the knight, but very, very beautiful. Everybody that hears me sing it, either it brings the tears into their eyes or else what, said Alice, for the night it made a sudden pause. Or else it doesn't, you know. The name of the song is called Haddock's Eyes. Oh, that's the name of the song, is it? Alice said, trying to feel interested. No, you don't understand, the knight said, looking a little vexed. That's what the name is called. The name really is the aged, aged man. Then I ought to have said, that's what the song is called, Alice corrected herself. No, you oughtn't, that's quite another thing. The song is called Ways and Means. Well, that's only what it's called, you know. Well, what is the song then, said Alice, who was by this time completely bewildered. I was coming to that, the knight said. The song really is a sitting on a gate, and it tunes my own invention. So saying, he stopped his horse, and let the reins fall on its neck. Then, slowly beating time with one hand, and with a faint smile lighting up his gentle foolish face, as if he enjoyed the music of his song, he began. Of all the strange things that Alice saw in her journey through looking glass, this was the one that she always remembered most clearly. Years afterwards, she could bring the whole scene back again, as if it had been only yesterday. The mild blue eyes and kindly smile of the night, the setting sun gleaming through his hair, and shining on his armour in a blaze of light that quite dazzled her. The horse, quietly moving about, with the reins hanging loose on his neck, cropping the grass at her feet, and the black shadows at the forest behind. All this she took in like a picture, as, with one hand shading her eyes, she landed against a tree, watching the strange pair, and listening in a half-dream to the melancholy music of the song. Ah, the tune isn't his own invention, she said to herself. It's, I give thee all, I can no more. She stood and listened very attentively, but no tears came into her eyes. I'll tell thee everything I can, thus little to relate. I saw an aged, aged man, a sitting on a gate. Who are you, aged man, I said, and how is it you live? And his answer trickled through my head, like water, through his sieve. He said, I look for butterflies at sleep among the wheat. I make them into mutton pies, and sell them in the street. I sell them unto men, he said, who sail on stormy seas. That's the way I get my bread, a trifle, if you please. But I was thinking of a plan to die once whiskers green, and always use so large a fan that they could not be seen. So, having no reply to give to what the old man said, I cried, come, tell me how you live! And thumbed him on the head. His accent's mild took up the tale. He said, I go my ways, and when I find a mountain rill, I set it in a blaze, and thence they make a stuff they call Roland's Maccassar oil. Yet Toppen's hapenny is all they give me for my toil. But I was thinking of a way to feed oneself on batter, and so gone from day to day, getting a little fatter. I shook him well from side to side, until his face was blue. Come, tell me how you live! I cried. And what it is you do! He said, I hunt for haddock's eyes among the heather bright, and work them into waistcoat buttons in the silent night. And these I do not sell for gold or coin or silvery shine, but for a copper hapenny, and that will purchase nine. I sometimes dig for buttered rolls, or set lime twigs for crabs. I sometimes search the grassy knolls for wheels of handsome caps. And that's the way, he gave a wink, by which I get my wealth, and very gladly will I drink your honour's noble health. I hurt him then, for I had just completed my design to keep the manet-bridge from rust by boiling it in wine. I thank him much for telling me the way he got his wealth, but chiefly for his wish that he might drink my noble health. And now, if ere by chance I put my fingers into glue, or madly squeeze a right-hand foot into a left-hand shoe, or if I drop upon my toe a very heavy weight, I weep for it reminds me so of that old man I used to know, whose look was mild, whose speech was slow, whose hair was whiter than a snow, whose face was very like a crow, with eyes like cinders all aglow, who seemed distracted with his woe, who rocked his body to and fro, and muttered mumblingly and low, as if his mouth were full of dough, who snorted like a buffalo, that summer evening, long ago, a sitting on a gate. One night sang the last words of the ballot. He guarded up the reins and turned his horse's hair to long the road by which it had come. You've only a few yards to go, he said, down the hill and over that little brook, and then you'll be a queen. But you'll stay and see me off first, he added, as Alice turned with an eager look in the direction to which he pointed. I shan't be long. You wait to wave your handkerchief when I get to that turn in the road. I think it will encourage me, you see. Of course I'll wait, said Alice. Of course I'll wait, said Alice, and thank you very much for coming so far, and for the song. I liked it very much. I hope so. The night said doubtfully. But you didn't cry so much as I thought you would. So they shook hands, and then the night rode slowly away into the forest. It won't take long to see him off, I expect, Alice said to herself as she stood watching him. There he goes, right on his head as usual. However, he gets on again pretty easily. That comes of having so many things hung around the horse. So she went on talking to herself, as she watched the horse walking leisurely along the road. And the night tumbling off, first on one side and then on the other. After the fourth or fifth tumble, he reached the turn, and then she waved a handkerchief to him and waited till he was out of sight. I hope it encouraged him, she said, as she turned to run down the hill. And now for the last brook, and to be a queen, how grand it sounds. A very few steps brought her to the edge of the brook. The eighth square at last, she cried, as she bounded the cross and threw herself down to rest on the lawn as soft as moss with little flower beds dotted about it here and there. Oh, how glad I am to get here! And what is this on my head? She exclaimed in a tone of dismay as she put her hands up to something very heavy and fitted tight all around her head. But how can it have got there without my knowing it? She said to herself as she lifted it off and set it on her lap to make out what it could possibly be. It was a golden crown. Well, this is grand, said Alice. I never expected I should be a queen so soon. And I'll tell you what it is, Your Majesty. She went on in a severe tone. She was always rather fond of scolding herself. It'll never do for you to be lolling about on the grass like that. Queens have to be dignified, you know. So she got up and walked about, rather stiffly just at first, as she was afraid that the crown might come off. But she comforted herself with the thought that there was nobody to see her. And if I really am a queen, she said as she sat down again, I should be able to manage it quite well in time. Everything was happening so oddly that she didn't feel a bit surprised at finding the red queen and the white queen sitting close to her, one on each side. She would have liked very much to ask them how they came there, but she feared it would be not quite civil. However, there would be no harm, she thought, in asking if the game was over. Please, would you tell me," she began, looking timidly at the red queen, Speak when you're spoken to!" The queen sharply interrupted her. But if everybody obeyed that rule, said Anis, who was always ready for a little argument, and if you only spoke when you were spoken to and the other person always waited for you to begin, you see, nobody would ever say anything so that, ridiculous, grabbed the queen. Why, don't you see, child? Here she broke off with a frown, and after thinking for a minute, suddenly changed the subject of the conversation. What do you mean by, if you really are a queen? What right of you to call yourself so? You can't be a queen, you know, till you've passed the proper examination, and the sooner we begin it, the better. I only said if, poor Alice pleaded in a piteous tone, the two queens looked at each other, and the red queen remarked with a little shudder, she says she only said if, but she said a great deal more than that, the white queen moaned, wringing her hands, oh, ever so much more than that. So you did, you know, the red queen said to Alice, always speak the truth, think before you speak, and write it down afterwards. I'm sure I didn't mean, Anis was beginning, but the red queen interrupted her impatiently. That's just what I complain of, you should have meant. What do you suppose is the use of child without any meaning? Even a joke should have some meaning, and a child's more important than a joke, I hope. You couldn't deny that, even if you tried with both hands. I don't deny things with my hands, Anis objected. Nobody said you did, said the red queen. I said you couldn't if you tried. She's in that state of mind, said the white queen, that you wanted to deny something and yet she doesn't know what to deny. A nasty, vicious temper, the red queen remarked. And then there was an uncomfortable silence for a minute or two. The red queen broke the silence by saying to the white queen, I invite you to Alice's dinner party this afternoon. The white queen smiled feebly and said, and I invite you. I didn't know, I was to have a party at all, said Alice, but there is to be one, I think I ought to invite the guests. We gave you the opportunity of doing it, the red queen remarked, but I dare say you've not had many lessons in manners yet. Manors are not taught in lessons, said Alice. Lessons teach you to do sums and things of that sort. And you do addition, the white queen asked. What's one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one? I don't know, said Alice. I lost count. She can't do addition, the red queen interrupted. Can you do subtraction? Take nine from eight. Nine from eight I can't, you know, Alice replied very readily, but she can't do subtraction, said the white queen. Can you do division? Divide a loaf by a knife. What's the answer to that? I suppose Alice was beginning, but the red queen answered for her. Bread and butter, of course. Try another subtraction, some. Take a bone from a dog. What remains? Alice considered. The bone wouldn't remain, of course, if I took it, and the dog wouldn't remain. It would come to bite me, and I'm sure I shouldn't remain. Anything nothing would remain, said the red queen. I think that's the answer. Wrong, as usual, said the red queen. The dog's temper would remain. But I don't see how—why look here, the red queen cried. The dog would lose its temper, wouldn't it? Perhaps it would, Alice replied cautiously. Then if the dog went away, its temper would remain, the queen exclaimed triumphantly. Alice said, as gravely as she could, they might go different ways. But she couldn't help thinking to herself what dreadful nonsense we are talking. She can't do sums a bit, the queens said together with great emphasis. Can you do sums? Alice said, turning suddenly on the white queen, for she didn't like being found falter with so much. The queen gasped and shut her eyes. I can do addition if you give me time, but I can do subtraction under any circumstances. Of course you know your ABC, said the red queen. To be sure I do, said Alice. So do I, the white queen whispered. We'll often say it over together here, and I'll tell you a secret. I can read words of one letter. Isn't that grand? However, don't be discouraged. You'll come to it in time. Here the red queen began again. Can you answer useful questions, she said? How is bread made? I know that, Alice quite eagerly. You take some flour. Where do you pick the flour? The white queen asked, in the garden or in the hedges. Well, it isn't picked at all, Alice explained. It's ground. How many acres of ground, said the white queen? You mustn't leave out so many things. Fan her head, the red queen anxiously interrupted. She'll be feverish after so much thinking. Said they're set to work, and fan her with bunches of leaves, till she had to beg them to leave off. It blew her hair about so. She's all right again now, said the red queen. Do you know languages? What's the French for fiddle-de-dee? Fiddle-de-dee's not English, Alice replied gravely. Who ever said it was, said the red queen. Alice thought she saw a way out of the difficulty this time. If you'll tell me what language fiddle-dee is, I'll tell you the French for it, she exclaimed triumphantly. But the red queen drew herself up rather stiffly, and said, Queens never make bargains. I wish Queens never asked questions, Alice thought to herself. Don't let us quarrel, the white queen said in an anxious tone. What is the cause of lightning? The cause of lightning? Alice said very decidedly. She felt quite certain about this. Is the thunder? No, no, she hastily corrected herself. I meant the other way. It's too late to correct it, said the red queen, when he once said a thing that fixes it, and you must take the consequences. Which reminds me, the white queen said, looking down and nervously clasping and unclasping her hands, we had such a thunderstorm last Tuesday, I mean one of the last set of Tuesdays, you know. Alice was puzzled. In our country, she remarked, there's only one day at a time. The red queen said, that's a poor, thin way of doing things. Now here we mostly have days and nights, two or three at a time, and we take as many as five nights together, for warmth, you know. Are five nights warmer than one night, then? Alice ventured to ask. Five times as warm, of course. But they should be five times as cold by the same rule. Just so, cried the red queen, five times as warm and five times as cold, just as I'm five times as rich as you are, and five times as clever. Alice sighed and gave it up. It's exactly like a riddle with no answer, she thought. Humpty-dumpty saw it too. The white queen went on in her low voice, more as if she were talking to herself. He came to the door with a corkscrew in his hand. What did he want? said the red queen. He said he would come in, the white queen went on, because he was looking for a hippopotamus. Now, as it happened, there wasn't such a thing in the house that morning. Is there generally? Alice asked, in an astonished tone. Well, only on Thursdays, said the queen. I know what he came for, said Alice. He wanted to punish the fish, because here the white queen began again. It was such a thunderstorm, you can't think. She never could, you know, said the red queen. And part of the roof came off, and ever so much thunder got in, and it went rolling round the room in great lumps, and knocking over the table and things. It was so frightened I couldn't remember my own name. Alice thought to herself, I never should try to remember my name in the middle of an accident, where would be the use of it? But she did not say this aloud for fear of hurting the poor queen's feeling. Your Majesty must excuse her, the red queen said to Alice, taking one of the white queen's hands in her own and gently stroking it. She means well, but she can't help saying foolish things as a general rule. The white queen looked timidly at Alice, who felt she ought to say something kind, but really couldn't think of anything at the moment. She never was really well brought up, the red queen went on, but it's amazing how good temper she is. Pat her on the head and see how pleased she'll be. But this was more than Alice had courage to do. A little kindness and putting her hair in papers would do wonders with her. The white queen gave a deep sigh, and laid her head on Alice's shoulder. I am so sleepy, she moaned. She's tired, poor thing, said the red queen, smooth her hair, lend her your night-cap, and sing her a soothing lullaby. I haven't got a night-cap with me, said Alice, as she tried to obey the first direction, and I don't know any soothing lullabies. I'm stupid myself, then, said the red queen, and she began. How shall I lay thee in Alice's lap till the feasts ready we've climbed for a nap, when the feasts over will go to the ball, red queen and white queen and Alice and all? And now you know the words, she added, as she put her head down on Alice's other shoulder. Just sing it through to me. I'm getting sleepy, too. In another moment, both queens were fast asleep and snoring loud. What am I to do, exclaimed Alice, looking about in great perplexity as first one round head, and then the other rolled down from her shoulder and lay like a heavy lump in her lap? I don't think it ever happened before that anyone had to take care of two queens asleep at once. No, not in all the history of England. It couldn't, you know, because there never was more than one queen at a time. Do wake up, you heavy things? She went on in an impatient tone. But there was no answer but a gentle snoring. Snoring got more distinct every minute and reminded more like a tune. At last she could even make out the words and she listened so eagerly that when the two great heads vanished from her lap she hardly missed them. She was standing before an arched doorway over which were the words, Queen Alice in large letters. On in each side of the dodge there was a bell handle. One was marked Visitor's Bell and the other Servant's Bell. I'll wait till the songs over, and then I'll ring the Which Bell Must I Ring? She went on, very much puzzled by the names. I'm not a Visitor and I'm not a Servant. There ought to be one marked Queen, you know. Just then the door opened a little away and a creature with a long beak put its head out for a moment and said No admittance to the week after next and shut the door again with a bang. Alice knocked and rang in vain for a long time but at last a very old frog who was sitting under a tree got up and hobbled slowly towards her. He was dressed in bright yellow and had enormous boots on. What is it now? the frog said in a deep horse whisper. Alice turned round, ready to find fault with anybody. Where's the Servant who's busy it is to answer the door? She began angrily. Which door? said the frog. Alice stamped with irritation at the slow drawl in which she spoke. This door, of course. The frog looked at the door with his large dull eyes for a minute. Then he went nearer and rubbed it with his thumb as if he were trying to whether the paint would come off. Then he looked at Alice. To answer the door he said, What's it been asking of? He was so hoarse that Alice could scarce to hear him. I don't know what you mean, she said. I talks English, doesn't I? The frog went on. Or are you deaf? What did it ask you? Nothing, Alice said impatiently. I'd been knocking at it. Shouldn't do that, shouldn't do that. The frog muttered. Vexes it, you know. Then he went up and gave the door a kick with one of his great feet. You let it alone. He panted out as he hobbled back to his tree. And it'll let you alone, you know. At this moment the door was flung open and a shrill voice was hurting. To the looking-glass world it was Alice that said, I have a scepter in hand, I have a crown on my head. Let the looking-glass creatures, whatever they be, come and dine with the red queen, the white queen and me. And hundreds of voices joined in the chorus. Then fill up the glasses as quick as you can and sprinkle the table with buttons and bran, put cats in the coffee and mice in the tea and welcome Queen Alice with thirty times three. There followed a confused noise of cheering and Alice thought to herself thirty times three makes ninety. I wonder if any one's counting. In a minute there was silence again and the same shrill voice sang another verse. Oh, looking-glass creatures, Quoth Alice, draw near, it is an honour to see me, a favour to hear. It is a privilege high to have dinner and tea, along with the red queen, the white queen and me. Then came the chorus again. Then fill up the glasses with treacle and ink or anything else that is pleasant to drink. Mix the sand with the cider and wool with the wine and welcome Queen Alice with ninety times nine. Ninety times nine, Alice repeated in despair. Oh, that'll never be done. I better go in at once. And there was a dead silence the moment she appeared. Alice glanced nervously along the table as she walked up the large hall and noticed that there were about fifty guests of all kinds, some animals, some birds and there were even a few flowers among them. I'm glad they've come without waiting to be asked, she thought. I should never have known who were the right people to invite. There were three chairs at the head of the table. The red and white queens had already taken two of them but the middle one was empty. Alice sat down and was rather uncomfortable in the silence and longing for someone to speak. At last the red queen began. You've missed the soup and fish, she said, put on the joint. And the waiters set a leg of mutton before Alice who looked at it rather anxiously as she'd never had to carve a joint before. You look a little shy, let me introduce you to that leg of mutton, said the red queen. Alice, mutton, mutton, Alice. The leg of mutton got up in the dish and made a little bow to Alice and Alice returned the bow, not knowing whether to be frightened or amused. May I give you a slice, she said, taking up the knife and fork and looking from one queen to the other. Certainly not, the red queen said very decidedly. It isn't etiquette to cut anyone you've been introduced to. Remove the joint. And the waiters carried it off and brought a large plum pudding in its place. I won't be introduced to the pudding, please, Alice said rather hastily. Or shall we get no dinner at all? May I give you some? But the red queen looked salky and growled, pudding, Alice, Alice, pudding. Remove the pudding. And the waiters took it away so quickly that Alice couldn't return its bow. However, she didn't see why the red queen should be the only one to give orders. So as an experiment she called out, waiter, bring back the pudding. And there it was again in a moment like a conjuring trick. It was so large that she couldn't help feeling a little shy with it as she had been with the mutton. However, she conked her shyness by great effort and cut a slice and handed it to the red queen. What impertinence, said the pudding, I wonder how you like it if I would have cut a slice out of you, you creature. It spoke in a thick, suity sort of voice and Alice hadn't a word to say and reply. She could only sit and look at it but gasped. Make a remark, said the red queen, it's ridiculous to leave all the conversation to the pudding. Do you know I've had such a quantity of poetry repeated to me today? Alice began. A little frightened at finding that the moment she opened her lips there was dead silence and all eyes were fixed on upon her. And it's a very curious thing, I think. Every poem was about fishes in some way. Do you know why there are so fond of fishes all about here? She spoke to the red queen whose answer was a little wide of the mark. As to fishes, she said, very slowly and solemnly, putting her mouth close to Alice's ear. Her white majesty knows a lovely riddle, all in poetry, all about fishes. Shall we repeat it? Her red majesty is very kind to mention it, the white queen murmured into Alice's other ear in a voice like the cooing of a pigeon. Would be such a treat, may I? Please do, Alice said very politely. The white queen laughed with delight and stroked Alice's cheek. Then she began. First the fish must be caught. That is easy. A baby, I think, could have caught it. Next the fish must be bought. That is easy. A penny, I think, would have bought it. Now cook me the fish. That is easy. It will not take more than a minute. Let it lie in a dish. That is easy because it already is in it. Bring it here, lift this up. It is easy to set such a dish on the table. Take the dish cover up. Ah, that is so hard that I fear I am unable. For it holds it like glue. Holds the lid to the dish while it lies in the middle. Which is easiest to do? Undish cover the fish or dish cover the riddle? Take a minute to think about it and then guess, so the red queen, meanwhile, will drink your health. Queen Alice's health! She screamed at the top of her voice and all the guests began drinking it directly and very clearly they managed it. Some of them put in their glasses upon their heads like extinguishers and drank all that trickled down their faces. Others upset the decanters and drank the wine as it ran off the edges of the table and three of them, who looked like kangaroos, scrambled under the dish of roast mutton and began eagerly lapping up the gravy. Just like pigs in a trough, fought Alice. He ordered to return thanks in a neat speech, the red queen said, frowning at Alice as she spoke. We must support you, you know, the white queen whispered, as Alice got up to do it very obediently but a little frightened. Thank you very much, she whispered and replied, but I can do quite well without. That wouldn't be at all the thing, the red queen said very decidedly, so Alice tried to submit it with a grid-grace. They did push so, she said afterwards when she was telling her sister the history of the feast, he would have thought they wanted to squeeze me flat. In fact, it was rather difficult for her to keep in her place while she made her speech. The two queens pushed her so, one on each side, that they nearly lifted her up into the air. I rise to return thanks, Alice began, and she really did rise as she spoke, several inches, but she got hold of the edge of the table and managed to pull herself down again. Take care of yourself! screamed the white queen, seizing Alice's hair with both her hands. Something's going to happen! And then, as Alice afterwards described it, all sorts of things happened in a moment. The candles all grew up to the ceiling, looking something like a bed of rushes with fireworks at the top. As to the bottles, they each took a pair of plates which they hastily fitted on as wings, and so, with forks for legs, went fluttering about in all directions. They didn't like birds they look, Alice thought to herself, as well as she could in the dreadful confusion that was beginning. At this moment she heard a horse laugh at her side and turned to see what was the matter with the white queen, but instead of the queen, there was the leg of mutton sitting in the chair. Here I am, quite a voice from the soup-tureen, and Alice turned again just in time to see the queen's broad, good-natured face grinning at her for a moment at the edge of the tureen before she disappeared into the soup. There's not a moment to be lost. Already several of the guests were lying down in the dishes, and the soup-ladle was walking up the table towards Alice's chair and beckoning to her impatiently to get out of its way. I can't stand this any longer! She cried as she jumped up and seized the tablecloth with both hands. One good pool and plates, dishes, guests, and candles came crashing down together in a heap on the floor. And as for you, she went on, turning fiercely upon the red queen which she considers as the cause of all the mischief. But the queen was no longer at her side. She had suddenly dwindled down to the sides of a little doll and was now on the table merrily running round and round and round after her own shawl, which was trailing behind her. At any other time Alice would have felt surprised at this, but she was far too much excited to be too surprised at anything now. As for you, she repeated, catching hold of the little creature and the very act of jumping over a bottle that's lighted upon the table. I'll shake you into a kitten, that I will! End of Chapter 9 Recording by Simon Evers Chapters 10 and 11 of Through the Looking Glass This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll Chapter 10 Shaking She took her off the table as she spoke and shook her backwards and forwards with all her might. The red queen made no resistance whatever. Only her face grew very small and her eyes got large and green. And still, as Alice went on shaking her, she kept on growing shorter and fatter and softer and rounder and Chapter 11 Waking and it really was a kitten, after all. End of Chapters 10 and 11 Recording by David Lawrence in Brampton, Ontario August 1st, 2009 Chapter 12 of Through the Looking Glass This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or how to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll Chapter 12 Which Dreamed It Your Majesty shouldn't purr so loud, Alice said, rubbing her eyes and addressing the kitten, respectfully yet with some severity. You woke me out of, oh, such a nice dream. And you've been along with me, kitty, all through the Looking Glass world. Did you know it, dear? It is a very inconvenient habit of kittens. Alice had once made the remark that, whenever you say to them, they always purr. If they would only purr for yes and you for no or any rule of that sort, she had said, so that one could keep up a conversation. But how can you talk with a person if they always say the same thing? On this occasion the kitten only purred, and it was impossible to guess whether it meant yes or no. So Alice hunted among the chessmen on the table till she had found the red queen. Then she went down on her knees on the hearth rug and put the kitten and the queen to look at each other. Now, kitty, she cried, clapping her hands triumphantly, confess, that was what you turned into. But it wouldn't look at it, she said, when she was explaining the thing afterwards to her sister. It turned away its head and pretended not to see it, but it looked a little ashamed of itself, so I think it must have been the red queen. Set up a little more stiffly, dear. Alice cried with a merry laugh and curtsy while you're thinking what to do. What to purr? It saves time, remember? And she caught it up and gave it one little kiss. Just in honor of having been a red queen. Snow dropped my pet. She went on looking over her shoulder at the white kitten, which was still patiently undergoing its toilette. When will Dina have finished with your white majesty, I wonder? That must be the reason you were so untidy in my dream, Dina. Do you know that you're scrubbing a white queen? Really, it's most disrespectful of you. And what did Dina turn to, I wonder? She praddled on as she settled comfortably down with one elbow in the rug and her chin in her hand to watch the kittens. Tell me, Dina, did you turn to Humpty Dumpty? I think you did, however. You'd better not mention it to your friends just yet, for I'm not sure. By the way, kitty, if only you'd been really with me in my dream there was one thing you would have enjoyed. I had such a quantity of poetry said to me all about fishes. Tomorrow morning you shall have a real treat. At the time you're eating your breakfast, I'll repeat the walrus and the carpenter to you, and then you can make believe it's oysters, dear. Now, kitty, let's consider who it was that dreamed it all. This is a serious question, my dear, and you should not go in licking your paw like that as if Dina hadn't watched you this morning. You see, kitty, it must have been either me or the Red King. He was part of my dream, of course, but then it was part of his dream, too. Was it the Red King, kitty? You were his wife, my dear, so you ought to know. Oh, kitty, do help to settle it. I'm sure your paw can wait. But the provoking kitten only began on the other paw and pretended it hadn't heard the question. Which do you think it was? A boat beneath a sunny sky lingering onward dreamily in an evening of July, children three that nestle near, eager eye and willing ear, pleased a simple tale to hear long his paled that sunny sky, echoes fade and memories die, autumn frosts have slain July, she still haunts me phantom-wise, Alice moving under skies never seen by waking eyes, children yet the tale to hear, eager eye and willing ear, lovingly shall nestle near, in a wonderland they lie dreaming as the days go by, dreaming as the summers die, ever drifting down the stream, lingering in the golden gleam, life, what is it but a dream? THE END