 Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll, read by Adrian Predsellus, Santa Rosa, California, summer 2007. This is a 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 1 Looking Glass House One thing was certain, that the white kitten 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 could see that it couldn't have had any hand in the mischief. The way Diana 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 armchair, half talking to herself and half asleep, the kitten had been having a grand game of romps, with the ball of Worcestered, that 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, Diana ought to have taught you better manners. You ought, Diana. 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 armchair, taking the kitten and the Worcestered 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 tomorrow is, Kitty?' Alice began. "'You'd have guessed if you'd been up at the window with me. Only, Diana 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 tomorrow.' Here Alice wound two or three turns of the Worcestered 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, just 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 Diana 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'd put down a saucer of milk before her. "'What? You were thirsty, were you?' Now 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 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-pane, Kitty? How nice and soft it sounds. Just as if someone 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 Worcester 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 night that came wriggling 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 was only two of them, and Alice had been reduced at last to say, Well, you can be one of them, and then I'll be the rest. And once she had really frightened her old nurse by shouting suddenly in her ear, Nurse, let's do pretend that I'm a hungry hyena, 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 deer.' 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 only attend, Kitty, and not talk so much, I'll tell you all my ideas about looking-glass house. First, there's a 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, or put the bit behind the fireplace. Oh, I do so wish I could see that bit. I want so much to know whether they have a fire in the winter. You never can tell, you know, unless our fire smokes, and then the smoke comes up in that room too, but that may only be a 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 go 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 got there, and certainly the glass was beginning to melt away just like a bright silvery mist. In another moment Alice was through the glass and had jumped lightly down into the looking-glass room. The very first thing she did was to look whether there was a fire in the fireplace, and she was quite pleased to find that there was a real one blazing away as brightly as the one she had left behind. So I shall be as warm here as I was in the old room, thought Alice, warmer, in fact, because there'll be no one here to scold me away from the fire, and what fun it'll be when they see me through the glass in here and can't get at me. Then she began looking about and noticed what could be seen from the old room was quite common and uninteresting, but that all the rest was as different as possible. For instance, the pictures on the wall next to the fire seemed to be all alive, and the very clock in the chimney-piece, you know you can only see the back of it in the looking-glass, had got the face of a little old man and grinned at her. They don't keep this room so tidy as the other, Alice thought to herself, as she noticed several of the chessmen down in the hearth among the cinders. But in another moment, with a little oh, of surprise, she was down on her hands and knees, watching them. The chessmen were walking about, two and two. Here are the red king and the red queen, Alice said, in a whisper for fear of frightening them, and there are the white king and the white queen sitting on the edge of the shovel, and there are two castles walking arm in arm. I don't think they can hear me, she went on, as she put her head closer down, and I'm nearly sure they can't see me. I feel somehow as if I were invisible. Here, something began squeaking on the table behind Alice, and made her turn her head just in time to see one of the white pawns roll over and begin kicking. She watched it with great curiosity to see what would happen next. It's the voice of my child! The white queen cried out as she rushed past the king so violently that she knocked him over among the cinders. My precious Lily, my imperial kitten! And she began scrambling wildly up the side of the fender. Imperial fiddle-stick, said the king, rubbing his nose, which had been hurt by the fall. He had a right to be a little annoyed with the queen, for he was covered with ashes from head to foot. Alice was very anxious to be of use, and as the poor little Lily was nearly half screaming herself into a fit, she hastily picked up the queen and set her on the table by the side of her noisy little daughter. The queen gasped and sat down. The rapid journey through the air had quite taken away her breath, and for a minute or two she could do nothing but hug the little Lily in silence. As soon as she had recovered her breath a little, she called out to the white king, who was sitting sulkily among the ashes. May the volcano! What volcano! Said the king, looking up anxiously into the fire, as if he thought that it was the most likely place to find one. But blew me up, panted the queen, who was still a little out of breath. Mind you'll come up the regular way. Don't get blown up! Alice watched the white king as he slowly struggled up from bar to bar. Till at last she said, why, you'll be hours and hours getting up to the table at that rate. I'd far better help you, hadn't I? But the king took no notice of the question. It was quite clear that he could neither hear her nor see her. So Alice picked him up very gently and lifted him across more slowly than she had lifted the queen that she might not take his breath away. But before she put him on the table she thought she might as well dust him a little. He was so covered with ashes. She said afterwards that she had never seen all her life such a face as the king made when he found himself held in the air by an invisible hand and being dusted. He was far too much astonished to cry out, but his eyes and his mouth went on getting larger and larger and rounder and rounder till her hand shook so with laughing that she nearly let him drop upon the floor. Oh, please don't make such faces, my dear. She cried out quite forgetting the king couldn't hear her. You make me laugh so that I can hardly hold you and don't keep your mouth so wide open all the ashes will get into it. There now I think you're tidy enough, she added, as she smoothed his hair and set him upon the table near the queen. The king immediately fell flat on his back and lay perfectly still and Alice was a little alarmed at what she had done and went round the room to see if she could find any water to throw over him. However, she could find nothing but a bottle of ink and when she got back with it she found that he had recovered and he and the queen were talking together in a frightened whisper so low that Alice could hardly hear what they said. The king was saying, I assure you, my dear, I turned cold to the very ends of my whiskers. To which the queen replied, you haven't got any whiskers. The horror of that moment, the king went on, I shall never, never forget. You will, though, the queen said, if you don't make a memorandum of it. Alice looked on with great interest as the king took out an enormous memorandum book from his pocket and began writing. A sudden thought struck her and she took hold of the end of the pencil which came some way over his shoulder and began writing for him. The poor king looked puzzled and unhappy and struggled with the pencil for some time without saying anything but Alice was too strong for him and at last he panted out, my dear, I really must get a thinner pencil. I can't manage this one a bit. It writes all manner of things that I don't intend. What manner of things? Said the queen looking over the book in which Alice had put, the white knight is sliding down the poker. He balances very badly. That's not a memorandum of your feelings. There was a book lying near Alice on the table and while she sat watching the white knight, for she was still a little anxious about him and had the ink all ready to throw over him just in case he fainted again, she turned over the leaves to find some part that she could read. For it's all in some language. I don't know, she said to herself. It was like this. Note, here follows the first verse of the poem, Jabberwocky, but backwards. She struggled over this for some time, but at last a bright thought struck her. Why, it's a looking-glass book, of course, and if I hold it up to a glass, the words will all go the right way again. This was the poem that Alice read. Jabberwocky. Twas brillig and the slithy toves digire and gimble in the wave. All mimsy with a borough goes and the moon-raths outgrabe. Beware the Jabberwock, my son, the jaws that bite, the claws that catch. Beware the Jab-Jab-Bird and shun the frumious band of snatch. He took his vorpal sword in hand, long time the Maxon foe he sought. So rested he by the tum-tum tree and stood awhile in thought. And as enoughish thought he stood, the Jabberwock with eyes of flame came wilfering through the tonguey wood and burbled as it came. One, two, one, two, and through and through the vorpal blade went snicker-snack. He left it dead and with its head he went glumping back. And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish, oh, Frabius-day-caloo-calay! He chortled in his joy. It was brillig and the sly thee-toves did gyre and gimble in the wave, all mimsy where the borough goes and the moon-raths outgrabe. It seems very pretty, she said when she had finished it, but it is rather hard to understand. You see, she didn't like to confess ever to herself that she couldn't make it out at all. Sometimes it seems to fill my head with ideas, only I don't exactly know what they are. However, somebody killed something, that's clear at any rate. But oh, thought Alice, suddenly jumping up, if I don't make haste, I shall have to go back through the looking-glass before I've seen what the rest of the house is like. Let's have a look at the garden first. She was out of the room in a moment and ran downstairs, or at least it wasn't exactly running, but a new invention of hers for getting downstairs quickly and easily, as Alice said to herself. She just kept the tips of her fingers on the handrail and floated gently down without even touching the stairs with her feet, then she floated on through the hall and would have gone straight out the door in the same way if she hadn't caught hold of the door-post. She was getting a little giddy with so much floating in the air and was rather glad to find herself walking again in the natural way. End of Chapter One. Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll, read by Adrian Predsellus. This is a 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 Two. The Garden of Live Flowers. I should see the garden far better, said Alice to herself, if I could get to the top of that hill. And here's a path that leads straight to it. At least, no, it doesn't do that. After going a few yards along the path and turning several sharp corners, but I suppose it will at last. But how curiously it twists. It's more like a corkscrew than a path. Well, this turn goes to the hill, I suppose. No, it doesn't. It goes straight back to the house. Well, then, I'll try it the other way. And so she did, wandering up and down and trying turn after turn, but always coming back to the house, do what she would. Indeed, once, when she turned a corner rather more quickly than usual, she ran against it before she could stop herself. It's no good talking about it, Alice said, looking up at the house and pretending it was arguing with her. I'm not going in again. I know I should have to get through the Looking-Glass again back into the old room and there'd be an end of all my adventures. So, resolutely turning her back upon the house, she set out once more down the path to turn into Keeps straight on until she got to the hill. For a few minutes all went well and she was just saying, I really shall do it this time. When the path gave a sudden twist and shook itself, as she described it afterwards, and the next moment she found herself actually walking in at the door. Oh, it's too bad, she cried. I never saw such a house for getting in the way, never. However, there was the hill in full sight, so there was nothing to be done but start again. This time she came upon a large flower bed with a border of daisies and a willow tree growing in the middle. Oh, Tiger Lily, said Alice, addressing herself to one that was waving gracefully about in the wind. I wish you could talk. We can talk, said the Tiger Lily, when there's anybody worth talking to. Alice was so astonished that she couldn't speak for a minute. It quite seemed to take her breath away. At length, as the Tiger Lily only went on waving about, she spoke again in a timid voice, almost a whisper. And can all the flowers talk? As well as you can, said the Tiger Lily, and a great dear louder. It isn't manners for us to begin, you know, said the Rose, and I really was wondering when you'd speak, said I to myself. Her face has got some sense in it, though it's not a clever one. Still, you are the right colour, and that goes a long way. I don't care about colour," the Tiger Lily remarked. If only her petals curled up a little more, she'd be all right. Alice didn't like being criticised, so she began asking questions. Aren't you sometimes frightened at being planted out here with no one to take care of you? There's the tree in the middle," said the Rose. What else is it good for? But what could it do if any danger came? Alice asked. It says, Bow wow, cried a daisy. That's why its branches are called bows. Didn't you know that? Cried another daisy, and here they all began shouting together until the air seemed quite full of little shrill voices. Silence, every one of you, cried the Tiger Lily, waving itself passionately from side to side and trembling with excitement. They know I can't get at them. It panted, bending its quivering head towards Alice, or they wouldn't dare to do it. Never mind, Alice said in a soothing voice and stooping down to the daisies who were just beginning again, she whispered, if you don't hold your tongues, I'll pick you. There was silence at a moment, and several of the pink daisies turned white. That's right, said the Tiger Lily. The daisies are worst of all. When one speaks, they all begin together, and it's enough to make one wither to hear the way they go on. How is it you can all talk so nicely? Alice said, hoping to get it into a better tempo by a compliment. I've been in many gardens before, but none of the flowers could talk. Put your hand down and feel the ground, said the Tiger Lily. Then you'll know why. Alice didch, though. It's very hard, she said, but I don't see what that has to do with it. In most gardens, the Tiger Lily said, they make the beds too soft so that the flowers are always asleep. This sounded like a very good reason, and Alice was quite pleased to know it. I never thought of that before, she said. It's my opinion that you'll never think at all, as the rose said in a rather severe tone. I never saw anybody that looks stupider, a violet said, so suddenly that Alice quite jumped for it hadn't spoken before. Hold your tongue, cried the Tiger Lily, as if you ever saw anybody. You keep your head under the leaves and snore away there till you know no more what's going on in the world then if you were a bud. And are there any more people in the garden besides me, Alice said, not choosing to notice the rose's last remark. There's one other flower in the garden that can move about like you, said the rose. I wonder how you do it. You're always wondering, said the Tiger Lily, but she's more bushy than you are. Is she like me? Alice asked eagerly for the thought crossed her mind. There's another little girl in the garden somewhere. Well, she has the same awkward shape as you, the rose said, but she's redder and her petals are shorter, I think. Her petals are done up close, almost like a dailier, the Tiger Lily interrupted, not tumbled about anyhow like yours. But it's not your fault, the rose added kindly. You're beginning to fade, you know, and then one can't help one's petals getting a glunt tidy. Alice didn't like this idea at all, so to change the subject, she asks, does she ever come out here? I dare say you'll see her soon, said the rose. She's one of the thorny kind. Where does she wear the thorns? Alice asked with some curiosity. Why, all around her head, of course, the rose replied. I was wondering you hadn't got some, too. I thought it was the regular rule. She's coming, cried the larkspur. I hear her footsteps, thump, thump, thump, along the gravel walk. Alice looked round eagerly and found that it was the red queen. She's grown a good deal, was her first remark. She had indeed. When Alice first found her in the ashes, she had been only three inches high, and here she was half a head taller than Alice herself. It's the fresh air, does it? Said the rose, wonderfully fine air it is out here. I think I'll go and meet her, said Alice, for though the flowers were interesting enough, she felt it would be far grander to have a talk with a real queen. You can't possibly do that, said the rose. I should advise you to walk the other way. This sounded nonsense to Alice, so she said nothing, but set off at once towards the red queen. To her surprise she lost sight of her in a moment and found herself walking in at the front door again. A little provoked she drew back, and after looking everywhere for the queen, whom she spied at last a long way off, she thought she would try the plan this time of walking in the opposite direction. It succeeded beautifully. She had not been walking a minute before she found herself face to face with the red queen, and full in sight of the hill she had been so long aiming at. Where do you come from? said the red queen. And where are you going? Look up, speak nicely, and don't twiddle your fingers all the time. Alice attended to all these directions and explained as well as she could that she had lost her way. I don't know what you mean by your way, said the queen. All the ways about here belong to me. But why did you come out here at all? she added in a kinder tone. Curtsy, while you're thinking what to say, it saves time. Alice wondered a bit at this, but she was too much in awe of the queen to disbelieve it. I'll try it when I go home, she thought to herself, the next time I'm a little late for dinner. It's time for you to answer now. The queen said, looking at her watch. Open your mouth a little wider when you speak, and always say your Majesty. I only wanted to see what the garden was like, your Majesty. That's right, said the queen, patting her on the head, which Alice didn't like at all. Though when you say garden, I've seen gardens compared with which this would be a wilderness. Alice didn't dare argue the point, but went on, and I thought I'd try and find my way to the top of that hill. When you say hill, the queen interrupted, I could show you hills in comparison with which you'd call that a valley. No, I shouldn't, said Alice, surprised into contradicting her at last. A hill can't be a valley, you know, that would be nonsense. The red queen shook her head. You may call it nonsense, if you like, she said, but I've heard nonsense compared with which that would be as sensible as a dictionary. Alice curtsied again, but she was afraid from the queen's tone that she was a little offended, and they walked on in silence till they got to the top of the little hill. For some minutes Alice stood without speaking, looking out in all directions over the country, and a most curious country it was. There were a number of tiny little brooks running straight across it from side to side, and the ground between was divided up into squares by a number of little green hedges that reached from brook to brook. I declare it's marked out just like a large chessboard, Alice said at last, there ought to be some men moving about somewhere. And so there are, she added in a tone of delight, and her heart began to beat quick with excitement as she went on. It's a great huge game of chess that's being played all over the world. If this is the world at all, you know. Oh, what fun it is! How I wish I was one of them! I wouldn't mind being a pawn, if only I might join, though of course I should like to be a queen best. She glanced rather shyly at the real queen as she said this, but her companion only smiled pleasantly and said, That's easily managed. You can be the white queen's pawn, if you like, as Lily's too young to play, and you're in the second square to begin with. When you get to the eighth square, you'll be a queen. Just at this moment, somehow or other, they began to run. Alice never could quite make it out, in thinking it over afterwards how it was that they began. All she remembers is that they were running hand in hand, and the queen went so fast that it was all she could do to keep up with her, and still the queen kept crying, Faster, faster! But Alice felt she could not go faster, though she had not breath left to say so. The most curious part of the thing was that the trees and the other things around them never changed their places at all. However fast they went, they never seemed to pass anything. I wonder if all the things move along with us, thought poor puzzled Alice. And the queen seemed to guess her thoughts, for she cried, Faster! Don't try to talk! Not that Alice had any idea of doing that. She felt as if she would never be able to talk again. She was getting so much out of breath, and still the queen cried, Faster, Faster! And dragged her along. Are we nearly there? Alice managed to pant out at last. Nearly there! The queen repeated, Why we passed it ten minutes ago, Faster! And they ran on for a time in silence, with the wind whistling in Alice's ears, and almost blowing her hair off her head, she fancied. No, no! cried the queen, Faster, Faster! And they went so fast that at last they seemed to skim through the air, hardly touching the ground with their feet, till suddenly, just as Alice was getting quite exhausted, they stopped, and she found herself sitting on the ground, breathless and giddy. The queen propped her up against a tree and said kindly, You may rest a little now. Alice looked round her in great surprise. Why, I do believe we've been under this tree the whole time. Everything's just as it was. Of course it is! said the queen. What would you have it? Well, in our country, said Alice, still panting a little, you'd generally get somewhere else if you ran very fast for a long time, as we've been doing. A slow sort of country, said the queen. Now here you'll see it takes all the running you can do to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that. I'd rather not try, please, said Alice. I'm quite content to stay here, only I am so hot and thirsty. I know what you'd like! The queen said good-naturedly, taking a little box out of her pocket. Have a biscuit! Alice thought it would not be civil to say no, though it wasn't at all what she wanted. So she took it and ate it, as well as she could. And it was very dry, and she thought she had never been so nearly choked in all her life. While you're refreshing yourself, said the queen, I'll just take the measurements. And she took a ribbon out of her pocket, marked in inches, and began measuring the ground and sticking little pegs in here and there. At the end of two yards, she said, putting in a peg to mark the distance, I shall give you your directions. Have another biscuit! No, thank you, said Alice, one's quite enough. First quenched, I hope! said the queen. Alice did not know what to say to this, but luckily the queen did not wait for an answer, but went on. At the end of three yards, I shall repeat them, for fear of your forgetting them. At the end of four, I shall say good-bye, and at the end of five, I shall go. She had got all the pegs put in by this time, and Alice looked on with great interest as she returned to the tree, and then began slowly walking down the row. At the two-yard peg, she faced round and said, A pawn goes two squares in its first move, you know? So you'll go very quickly through the third square, by railway, I should think. And then you'll find yourself in the fourth square in no time. Well, that square belongs to Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle D. The fifth is mostly water. The sixth belongs to Humpty Dumpty. But you make no remark. I didn't know I had to make one. Just then, Alice faltered out. You should have said, it's extremely kind of you to tell me all this. However, we'll suppose it said, Ah, the seventh square is all forest. However, one of the knights will show you the way. And in the eighth square we shall be queens together, and it's all feasting and fun. Alice got up and curtsied and sat down again. At the next peg, the queen turned again, and this time she said, Speak in French when you can't think of the English for a thing. Turn out your toes as you walk, and remember who you are. She did not wait for Alice to curtsy this time, but walked on quickly to the next peg, where she turned for a moment to say, Goodbye! And then hurried on to the last. How it happened, Alice never knew, but exactly as she came to the last peg, she was gone. Whether she vanished into the air, or whether she ran quickly into the wood, and she can run very fast, thought Alice. There was no way of guessing. But she was gone, and Alice began to remember that she was a pawn, and that it would soon be time for her to move. End of Chapter 2 Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll read by Adrian Predsellis This is a LibriVox recording, or 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 3 Looking Glass Insects Of course, the first thing to do was to make a grand survey of the country she was going to travel through. It's something very like learning geography, thought Alice, as she stood on tiptoe in hopes of being able to see a little further. Principal Rivers There are none. Principal Mountains I'm on the only one, but I don't think it's got any name. Principal Towns Why, what are those creatures making honey down there? They can't be bees. Nobody ever saw bees a mile off, you know. And for some time she stood silent, watching one of them that was bustling about among the flowers, poking its proboscis into them, just as if it was a regular bee, thought Alice. However, this was anything but a regular bee. In fact, it was an elephant, as Alice soon found out. Though the idea quite took her breath away at first. What enormous flowers they must be was her next idea. Something like cottages with the roofs taken off and stalks put to them, and what quantities of honey they must make. I think I'll go down and— No, I won't just yet. She went on, checking herself just as she was beginning to run down the hill, and trying to find some excuse for turning shy so suddenly. It'll never do to go down among them without a good long branch to brush them away. And what fun it'll be when they ask me how I like my walk. I shall say, oh, I like it well enough. Here came the favourite little toss of the head. Only it was so dusty and hot, and the elephants did tease so. I think I'll go down the other way, she said, after a pause. And perhaps I may visit the elephants later. Besides, I do so want to get into the third square. So with this excuse she ran down the hill and jumped over the first of the six little brooks. Tickets, please, said the guard, putting his head in at the window. In a moment everybody was holding out a ticket. They were about the same size as the people, and quite seemed to fill the carriage. Now then, show your ticket, child! the guard went on looking angrily at Alice. And a great many voices all said together, like the chorus of a song, thought Alice, don't keep him waiting, child, why his time is worth a thousand pounds a minute. I'm afraid I haven't got one, Alice said in a frightened tone. There wasn't a ticket office where I came from. And again the chorus of voices went on. There wasn't room for one where she came from. The land there is worth a thousand pounds an inch. Don't make excuses, said the guard. You should have bought one from the engine driver. And once more the chorus of voices went on. The man that drives the engine, why the smoke alone is worth a thousand pounds a puff. Alice thought to herself, then there's no use in speaking. The voices didn't join in this time, as though she hadn't spoken, but to her great surprise they all thought in chorus. I hope you understand what thinking in chorus means, for I must confess that I don't. Better to say nothing at all. Language is worth a thousand pounds a word. I shall dream about a thousand pounds tonight. I know I shall, thought Alice. All this time the guard was looking at her, first through a telescope, then through a microscope, then through an opera-glass. At last he said, You travel in the wrong way. And shut up the window, and went away. So young a child, said the gentleman sitting opposite to her. He was dressed in white paper. Or to know which way she's going, even if she doesn't know her own name. A goat that was sitting next to the gentleman in white, shut his eyes, and said in a loud voice, She ought to know her way to the ticket office, even if she doesn't know her alphabet. There was a beetle sitting next to the goat. It was a very queer carriage full of passengers altogether. And, as the rule seemed to be, that they should all speak in turn, he went on with, She'll have to go back from here is luggage. Alice couldn't see who was sitting beyond the beetle. But a horse voice spoke next. Change engines! It said, and was obliged to leave off. It sounds like a horse. Alice thought to herself, and an extremely small voice, close to her ear, said, You might make a joke on that. Something about horse and horse, you know. Then a very gentle voice in the distance said, She must be labelled lass with care, you know. And after that, other voices went on. What a number of people there are in the carriage, thought Alice. Saying, She must go by post, as she's got her head in her. She must be sent as a message by the telegraph. She must draw the train herself the rest of the way. And so on. But the gentleman dressed in white paper leaned forwards and whispered in her ear, Never mind what they all say, my dear, But take a return ticket every time the train stops. Indeed, I shan't, Alice said rather impatiently. I don't belong to this railway journey at all. I was in a wood jest now, and I wish I could get back there. You might make a joke on that, said the little voice, close to her ear. Something about you would, if you could, you know. Don't tease so, said Alice, looking about in vain to see where the voice came from. If you're so anxious to have a joke made, why don't you make one yourself? The little voice sighed deeply. It was very unhappy, evidently, and Alice would have said something pitying to comfort it, if it would only sigh like other people, she thought. But this was such a wonderfully small sigh, that she wouldn't have heard it at all, if it hadn't come quite close to her ear. The consequence of this was that it tickled her ear very much, and quite took off her thoughts from the unhappiness of the poor little creature. I know you are a friend, the little voice went on. A dear friend, an old friend, and that you won't hurt me, though I am an insect. What kind of insect? Alice inquired a little anxiously. What she really wanted to know was whether it could sting or not, but she thought this wouldn't be quite a civil question to ask. What, then you don't? The little voice began when it was drowned by a shrill scream from the engine, and everybody jumped up in alarm, Alice among the rest. The horse, who had put his head out of the window, quietly drew it in and said, It's only a brook, we have to jump over. Everybody seemed satisfied with this, though Alice felt a little nervous at the idea of trains jumping at all. However, it'll take us into the fourth square, that's some comfort, she said to herself. In another moment she felt the carriage rise straight up into the air, and in her fright she caught at the thing nearest to her hand, which happened to be the goat's beard. But the beard seemed to melt away as she touched it, and she found herself sitting quietly under a tree, while the gnat, for that was the insect she had been talking to, was balancing itself on a twig just over her head and fanning her with its wings. It was a very large gnat, about the size of a chicken, Alice thought. Still, she couldn't feel nervous with it after they had been talking together so long. Then you don't like all insects? The gnat went on as quietly as if nothing had happened. I like them when they can talk, Alice said. None of them ever talk where I come from. What sort of insects do you rejoice in where you come from? The gnat inquired. I don't rejoice in insects at all, Alice explained, because I'm rather afraid of them, at least the large kinds. But I can tell you the names of some of them. Of course, they answer to their names, the gnat remarked carelessly. I've never known them to do it. What's the use of their having names, the gnat said, if they won't answer to them? No use to them, said Alice, but it's useful to the people who name them, I suppose, if not, why do things have names at all? I can't say, the gnat replied. Further on, in the wood down there, they've got no names. However, gone with your list of insects, you're wasting time. Well, there's the horse-fly, Alice began counting off the names on her fingers. All right, said the gnat. Halfway up that bush you'll see a rocking horse-fly if you look. It's made entirely of wood, and gets about by swinging itself from branch to branch. What does it live on? Alice asked, with great curiosity. Zap and saw a dust, said the gnat. Go on with the list. Alice looked up at the rocking horse-fly with great interest, and made up her mind it must have been just repainted. It looked so bright and sticky. And then she went on. And there's the dragon-fly. Look up on the branch above your head, said the gnat. And there you'll find a snap-dragon-fly. Its body is made of plum pudding. Its wings of holly-leaves. And its head is a raisin, burning in brandy. And what does it live on? Froom and tea and mince-pie. The gnat replied. And it makes its nest in a Christmas box. And then there's the butterfly. Alice went on after she had taken a good look at the insect with its head on fire, and had thought to herself, I wonder if that's the reason the insects are so fond of flying into candles, because they want to turn into snap-dragon-flies. Crawling at your feet, said the gnat. Alice drew her feet back in some alarm. You may observe a bread-and-butter-fly. Its wings are thin slices of bread-and-butter. Its body is a crust, and its head is a lump of sugar. What does it live on? Weak tea with cream in it. A new difficulty came into Alice's head. Supposing it can't find any, she suggested. Then it would die, of course. But that must happen very often, Alice remarked thoughtfully. It always happens, said the gnat. After this Alice was silent for a minute or two, pondering. The gnat amused itself meanwhile by humming round and round her head. At last it settled again and remarked, I suppose you don't want to lose your name. No indeed, Alice said a little anxiously. And yet I don't know, the gnat went on in a careless tone. Only think how convenient it would be if you could manage to go home without it. For instance, if the governess wanted to call you to your lessons, she would call out, come here, and there she would have to leave off, because there wouldn't be any name for her to call, and of course you wouldn't have to go, you know. That would never do, I'm sure, said Alice. The governess would never think of excusing me lessons for that. If she couldn't remember my name, she'd call me Miss, as the servants do. Well, if she said Miss and didn't say anything more, the gnat remarked, of course you'd Miss your lessons, that's a joke. I wish you had made it. Why do you wish I had made it? Alice asked. It's a very bad one. But the gnat only sighed deeply, while two large tears came rolling down its cheeks. You shouldn't make jokes, Alice said, if it makes you so unhappy. Then came another of those melancholy little sighs, and this time the poor gnat really seemed to have sighed itself away. For when Alice looked up, there was nothing whatever to be seen on the twig, and as she was getting quite chilly with sitting still so long, she got up and walked on. She very soon came to an open field with a wood on the other side of it. It looked much darker than the last wood, and Alice felt a little timid about going into it. However, on second thoughts, she made up her mind to go on. For I certainly won't go back, she thought to herself, and this was the only way to the eighth square. This must be the wood, she said thoughtfully to herself, where things have no names. I wonder what'll become of my name when I go in. I shouldn't like to lose it at all, because they'd have to give me another, and it would almost certain to be an ugly one. But then the fund would be trying to find the creature that had got my old name. That's just like the advertisements, you know, when people lose dogs. Answers to the name of Dash had on a brass collar, just fancy calling everything you met Alice until one of them answered. Only they wouldn't answer at all, if they were wise. She was rambling on in this way when she reached the wood. It looked very cool and shady. Well, at any rate, it's a great comfort, she said as she stepped under the trees, after being so hot to get into the… into what? She went on, rather surprised at not being able to think of the word. I mean, to get under the… under the… under this, you know, putting her hand on the trunk of the tree. What does it call itself, I wonder? I do believe it's got no name. Why, to be sure it hasn't. She stood silent for a minute, thinking. Then suddenly she began again. Then it really has happened after all. And now, who am I? I will remember if I can. I'm determined to do it. But being determined didn't help much, and all she could say, after a great deal of puzzling was, Elle, I know it begins with Elle. Just then a fawn came wandering by. It looked at Alice with its large, gentle eyes, but didn't seem at all frightened. Here, then, here, then, Alice said as she held out her hand and tried to stroke it. But it only started back a little, and then stood looking at her again. What did you call yourself? The fawn said at last. Such a soft, sweet voice it had. I wish I knew, thought poor Alice. She answered rather sadly. Nothing just now. Think again, it said. That won't do. Alice thought, but nothing came of it. Please, would you tell me what you call yourself? She said timidly. I think that might help a little. I'll tell you if you move a little further on, the fawn said. I can't remember here. So they walked on together through the wood. Alice with her arms clasped lovingly around the soft neck of the fawn, till they came out into another open field, and here the fawn gave a sudden bound into the air and shook itself free of Alice's arms. I'm a fawn! it cried out in a voice of delight. And dear me, you're a human child. A sudden look of alarm came into its beautiful brown eyes, and in another moment it had darted away at full speed. Alice stood looking after it, almost ready to cry with vexation at having lost her dear little fellow traveller so suddenly. However, I know my name now, she said. That's some comfort. Alice, Alice, I won't forget it again. And now, which of these finger-posts ought I to follow, I wonder? It was not a very difficult question to answer, as there was only one road through the wood, and the two finger-posts both pointed along it. I'll settle it, Alice said to herself, when the road divides, and they point different ways. But this did not seem likely to happen. She went on and on a long way, but whenever the road divided, there would be sure to be two finger-posts pointing the same way. One marked two Tweedledum's house, and the other to the house of Tweedledee. I do believe, said Alice at last, that they live in the same house. I wonder I never thought of that before. But I can't stay there long. I'll just call and say, how do you do, and ask them the way out of the wood. If I could only get to the eighth square before it gets dark. So she wandered on, talking to herself as she went, till, on turning a sharp corner, she came upon two fat little men, so suddenly that she could not help starting back. But in another moment she recovered herself, feeling sure that they must be end of Chapter Three. THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS by Lewis Carroll read by Adrian Predsellus This is a 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 Three Tweedledum and Tweedledee They were standing under a tree, each with an arm around the other's neck, and Alice knew which was which in a moment, because one of them had DUM, embroidered on his collar, and the other D. I suppose they've each got Tweedle round at the back of the collar, she said to herself. They stood so still that she quite forgot they were alive, and she was just looking round to see if the word Tweedle was written at the back of each collar, when she was startled by a voice coming from the one marked DUM. If you think we're waxworks, he said, you ought to pay, you know. Waxworks weren't made to be looked at for nothing, no how. Contrary wise, added the one marked D, if you think we're alive, you ought to speak. I'm sure I'm very sorry, was all Alice could say, for the words of the old song kept ringing through her head like the ticking of a clock, and she could hardly help saying them out loud. Tweedledum and Tweedledee agreed to have a battle, for Tweedledum, said Tweedledee, had spoiled his nice new rattle. Just then flew down a monstrous crow, as black as a tar barrel, which frightened both the heroes so they quite forgot their quarrel. I know what you're thinking about, said Tweedledum, but it isn't so, no how. Contrary wise, continued Tweedledee, if it was so, it might be, and if it was so it would be, but as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic. I was thinking, Alice said, very politely, which is the best way out of the wood. It's getting so dark, would you tell me please? But the little man only looked at each other and grinned. They looked so exactly like a couple of great schoolboys, that Alice couldn't help pointing her finger at Tweedledum, and saying, First Boy, know how, Tweedledum cried out briskly, and shut his mouth up again with a snap. Next Boy, said Alice, passing on to Tweedledee, though she felt quite certain that he would only shout out contrary wise, and so he did. You've been wrong, cried Tweedledum. The first thing in a visit is to say, How'd you do? and shake hands. And here the two brothers gave each other a hug, and then they held out the two hands that were free to shake hands with her. Alice did not like shaking hands with either of them first, for fear of hurting the other one's feelings. So, as the best way out of the difficulty, she took hold of both hands at once. The next moment they were dancing round in a ring. This seemed quite natural, she remembered afterwards, and she was not even surprised to hear music playing. It seemed to come from the tree under which they were dancing, and it was done, as well as she could make it out, by the branches rubbing one across the other, like fiddles and fiddlesticks. But it certainly was funny, Alice said afterwards, when she was telling her sister the history of all this, to find myself singing Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush. I don't know when I began it, but somehow I felt as if I'd been singing it a long, long time. The other two dancers were fat, and very soon out of breath. Four times round is enough for one dance, Tweedledum panted out, and they left off dancing as suddenly as they'd begun. The music stopped at the same moment. Then they let go of Alice's hands, and stood looking at her for a minute. There was rather an awkward pause, as Alice didn't know how to begin a conversation with people she had just been dancing with. It would never do to say, How do you do now? she said to herself. We seem to have got beyond that somehow. Um, I hope you're not much tired, she said at last. No, how? And thank you very much for asking, said Tweedledum. So much obliged, added Tweedledee. You like poetry? Yes, pretty much some poetry, said Alice doubtfully. Would you tell me which road leads out of the wood? What shall I repeat to her? said Tweedledee, looking round at Tweedledum with great solemn eyes, and not noticing Alice's question. The walrus of the carpenter is the longest, Tweedledum replied, giving his brother an affectionate hug. Tweedledee began instantly. The sun was shining. Here Alice ventured to interrupt him. If it's very long, she said as politely as she could, would you please tell me first which road? Tweedledum smiled gently and began again. The sun was shining on the sea, shining with all his might. He did his very best to make the below smooth and bright. And this was odd, because it was the middle of the night. The moon was shining sulkily, because she thought the sun had got no business to be there after the day was done. It's very rude of him, she said, to come and spoil the fun. The sea was wet as wet could be, the sands were dry as dry. You could not see a cloud, because no cloud was in the sky. No birds were flying overhead, there were no birds to fly. The walrus and the carpenter were walking close at hand. They wept like anything to see such quantities of sand. If this were only cleared away, they said it would be grand. If seven maids with seven mops swept it for half a year, do you suppose, the walrus said, that they could get it clear? I doubt it, said the carpenter, and shed a bitter tear. Oh, oysters, come and walk with us, the walrus did beseech. A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk, along the briny beach. We cannot do with more than four to give a hand to each. The eldest oyster looked at him, but never a word he said. The eldest oyster winked his eye, and shook his heavy head, meaning to say he did not choose to leave the oyster bed. But four young oysters hurried up, all eager for the treat. Their coats were brushed, their faces washed, their shoes were clean and neat. And this was odd, because, you know, they hadn't any feet. Four other oysters followed them, and yet another four, and thick and fast they came at last, and more and more and more, all hopping through the frothy waves, and scrambling to the shore. The walrus and the carpenter walked on a mile or so, and then they rested on a rock conveniently low, and all that little oysters stood and waited in a row. The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things, of shoes and ships and sealing-wax, of cabbages and kings, and why the sea is boiling hot, and why the pigs have wings. But wait a bit, the oysters cried, before we have our chat, for some of us are out of breath, and all of us are fat. No, hurry, said the carpenter. They thanked him much for that. A loaf of bread, the walrus said, is what we chiefly need. Pepper and vinegar, the sides, are very good indeed. Now, if you're ready, oysters, dear, we can begin to feed. But not on us, the oysters cried, turning a little blue. After such kindness, that would be a dismal thing to do. The night is fine, the walrus said. Do you admire the view? It was so kind of you to come, and you are very nice. The carpenter said nothing, but cut us another slice. I wish you were not quite so deaf. I've had to ask you twice. It seems a shame, the walrus said, to play them such a trick, and after we brought them out so far, and made them trot so quick. The carpenter said nothing, but the butter spread too thick. I weep for you, the walrus said. I deeply sympathize. With sobs and tears he sorted out those of the largest size, holding his pocket handkerchief before his streaming eyes. Oh, oysters, said the carpenter, you've had a pleasant run. Shall we be trotting home again? But answer came there none, and that was scarcely odd, because they'd eaten every one. I like the walrus best, said Alice, because, you see, he was a little sorry for the poor oysters. He ate more than the carpenter, though, said Tweedle Dee. You see, he held his handkerchief in front, so that the carpenter couldn't see how many he took, contrary wise. That was mean, Alice said indignantly. Then I like the carpenter best if he didn't eat so many as the walrus. But he ate as many as he could get, said Tweedle Dum. This was a puzzler. After a pause, Alice began, well, they were both very unpleasant characters. Here she checked herself in some alarm, and hearing something that sounded to her like the puffing of a large steam engine in the wood near them. Though she feared it was more likely to be a wild beast. Are there any lions or tigers about here? she asked timidly. It's only the red king snoring, said Tweedle Dee. Come and look at him, the brothers cried, and they each took one of Alice's hands and led her up to where the king was sleeping. Isn't he a lovely sight? said Tweedle Dum. Alice couldn't say honestly that he was. He had a tall red nightcap on with a tassel, and he was lying crumpled up in a sort of untidy heap, and snoring loud. Fit to snore his head off, as Tweedle Dum remarked. I'm afraid he'll catch cold with lying on the damp grass, said Alice, who was a very thoughtful little girl. He's dreaming now, said Tweedle Dee. And what do you think he's dreaming about? Alice said nobody can guess that. Why about you? Tweedle Dee exclaimed, clapping his hands triumphantly. And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? Where I am now, of course, said Alice. Not you, Tweedle Dee retorted contemptuously. You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream. If that their king was to wake, added Tweedle Dum, you'd go out. Bang! Just like a candle. I shouldn't, Alice exclaimed indignantly. Besides, if I'm only a sort of thing in his dream, what are you I should like to know? Ditto, said Tweedle Dum. Ditto, ditto, cried Tweedle Dee. He shouted this so loud that Alice couldn't help saying, Hush, you'll be waking him. I'm afraid if you make so much noise. Well, it's no good you're talking about waking him, said Tweedle Dum. When you're only one of the things in his dream, you know very well you're not real. I am real, said Alice, and began to cry. You won't make yourself a bit realer by crying, Tweedle Dee remarked. There's nothing to cry about. But if I wasn't real, Alice said, half laughing through her tears, it all seemed so ridiculous, I shouldn't be able to cry. I hope you don't suppose those are real tears, Tweedle Dum interrupted, in a tone of great contempt. I know they're talking nonsense, Alice thought to herself, and it's foolish to cry about it, so she brushed away her tears and went on as cheerfully as she could. At any rate, I'd better be getting out of the wood, for really, it's coming on very dark. Do you think it's going to rain? Tweedle Dum spread out a large umbrella over himself and his brother, and looked up into it. No, I don't think it is, he said, at least, not under here, no how. But it may rain outside. It may, if it chooses, said Tweedle Dee. We've no objection, contrary-wise. Selfish things, thought Alice, and she was just going to say good night and leave them, when Tweedle Dum sprang out from under the umbrella and seized her by the wrist. Do you see that? He said, in a voice choking with passion, and his eyes grew large and yellow, all in a moment as he pointed with a trembling finger at a small white thing lying under the tree. It's only a rattle, Alice said, after a careful examination of the white thing. Not a rattlesnake, you know, she added hastily, thinking that he was frightened, and only an old rattle, quite old and broken. I knew it was, cried Tweedle Dum, beginning to stamp about wildly and tear his hair. It's spoiled, of course! Here he looked at Tweedle Dee, who immediately sat down on the ground and tried to hide himself under the umbrella. Alice laid her hand upon his arm, and said in a soothing tone, You needn't be so angry about an old rattle. But it is an old, Tweedle Dum cried, in a greater fury than ever. It's new! I tell you, I bought it yesterday, my nice new rattle! And his voice rose to a perfect scream. All this time, Tweedle Dee was trying his best to fold up the umbrella with himself in it, which was such an extraordinary thing to do that it quite took off Alice's attention from the angry brother. But he couldn't quite succeed, and it ended in his rolling over, bundled up in the umbrella, with only his head out, and there he lay, opening and shutting his mouth, and his large eyes, looking more like fish than anything else, Alice thought. Of course you agree to have a battle, Tweedle Dum said in a calmer tone. I suppose so, the other sulkily replied, as he crawled out of the umbrella. Only, she must help us to dress up, you know. So the two brothers went off hand in hand into the wood, and returned in a minute, with their arms full of things, such as bolsters, blankets, hearth rugs, tablecloths, dish covers and coal scuttles. I hope you're a good hand at pinning and tying strings, Tweedle Dum remarked. Every one of these things has to go on, somehow or other. Alice said afterwards that she had never seen such a fuss made about anything in all her life, the way those two bustled about, and the quantity of things they put on, and the trouble they gave her in tying strings and fastening buttons. Really, there'll be more like bundles of old clothes than anything else by the time they're ready, she said to herself, as she arranged a bolster around the neck of Tweedle D. To keep his head from being cut off, as he said, you know, he added very gravely, it's one of the most serious things that can possibly happen to one in a battle, to get one's head cut off. Alice laughed aloud, but she managed to turn it into a cough for fear of hurting his feelings. Do I look very pale, said Tweedle Dum, coming up to have his hell tied on? He called to helm it, though it certainly looked much more like a saucepan. Well, yes, a little, Alice replied gently. I'm very brave, generally, he went on in a low voice. Only today I happen to have a headache. And I've got a toothache, said Tweedle D, who had overheard the remark, I'm far worse off than you. Then you'd better not fight today, said Alice, thinking it a good opportunity to make peace. We must have a bit of a fight, but I don't care about going on long, said Tweedle Dum. What's the time now? Tweedle D looked at his watch, and said, half past four. Let's fight until six, and then have dinner, said Tweedle Dum. Very well, the other said, rather sadly, and she can watch us. Only, you'd better not come very close, he added. I generally hit everything I can see when I get really excited. And I hit everything within reach, cried Tweedle Dum, whether I can see it or not. Alice laughed. You must hit the trees pretty often, I should think, she said. Tweedle Dum looked round him with a satisfied smile. I don't suppose, he said, there'll be a tree left standing forever so far round by the time we've finished. And all about a rattle, said Alice, still hoping to make them a little ashamed of fighting for such a trifle. I shouldn't have minded it so much, said Tweedle Dum, if it hadn't been a new one. I wish the monstrous crow would come, thought Alice. There's only one sword, you know, Tweedle Dum said to his brother, but you can have the umbrella. It's quite a sharp, only we must be quick. It's getting as dark as it can. And darker, said Tweedle Dee. It was getting dark so suddenly that Alice thought there must be a thunderstorm coming on. What a thick black cloud that is, she said, and how fast it comes. Why, I do believe it's got wings. It's the crow! Tweedle Dum cried out in a shrill voice of alarm, and the two brothers took to their heels and were out of sight in a moment. Alice ran a little way into the wood and stopped under a large tree. It can never get at me here, she thought. It's far too large to squeeze itself in among the trees. But I wish it wouldn't flap its wings so. It makes quite a hurricane in the wood. Here's somebody's shawl being blown away. End of Chapter 4 Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll Read by Adrian Predsellus This is a 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 5 Wool and Water She caught the shawl as she spoke, and looked about for the owner. In another moment the White Queen came running wildly through the wood, with both arms stretched out wide, as if she were flying, and Alice, very civilly, went to meet her with the shawl. I'm very glad I happened to be in the way, Alice said, as she helped her to put on her shawl again. The White Queen only looked at her in a helpless, frightened sort of way, and kept repeating something in a whisper to herself, that sounded like Bread and Butter, Bread and Butter. And Alice felt that if there was to be any conversation at all, she must manage it herself. But she began rather timidly. Am I addressing the White Queen? Well, yes, if you call that addressing, the Queen said. It isn't my notion of the thing at all. Alice thought it would never do to have an argument at the very beginning of their conversation, so she smiled and said, If your Majesty will only tell me the right way to begin, I'll do it as well as I can. But I don't want it done at all, groaned the poor Queen. I've been addressing myself for the last two hours. It would have been all the better, as it seemed to Alice, if she had got somebody else to address her. She was so dreadfully untidy. Every single thing's crooked, Alice thought to herself, and she's all over pins. May I put your shawl straight for you? She added aloud. I don't know what's the matter with it, the Queen said in a melancholy voice. It's out of temper, I think. I've pinned it here and I've pinned it there, but there's no pleasing it. It can't go straight, you know, if you pin it all on one side, Alice said, as she gently put it right for her. And dear me, what a state your hair is in. The brush has got entangled in it, the Queen said with a sigh, and I lost the comb yesterday. Alice carefully released the brush and did her best to get the hair in order. Come, you look rather better now, she said, after altering most of the pins. But really, you should have a lady's maid. I'm sure I'll take you with pleasure, the Queen said. Top it's a week, and jam every other day. Alice couldn't help laughing, as she said, I don't want you to hire me, and I don't care for jam. It's very good jam, said the Queen. Well, I don't want it today at any rate. Oh, you couldn't have it if you did want it, the Queen said. The rule is jam tomorrow and jam yesterday, but never jam today. It must come sometimes to jam today, Alice objected. No, it can't, said the Queen. It's jam every other day. Today isn't any other day, you know. I don't understand you, said Alice. It's dreadfully confusing. That's the effect of living backwards, the Queen said kindly. It always makes one a little giddy at first. Living backwards? Alice repeated in great astonishment. I never heard of such a thing. But there's one great advantage in it. One's memory works both ways. I'm sure mine only works one way. Alice remarked, I can't remember things before they happen. It's a poor sort of memory that only works backwards, the Queen remarked. What sort of things do you remember best? Alice ventured to ask. Oh, things that happened the week after next. The Queen replied in a careless tone. For instance, now, she went on, sticking a large piece of plaster on her finger as she spoke. There's the King's messenger. He's in prison now, being punished, and the trial doesn't even begin till next Wednesday. And, of course, the crime comes last of all. Suppose he never commits a crime, said Alice. That would be all the better, wouldn't it? The Queen said as she bound the plaster round her finger with a bit of ribbon. Alice felt that there was no denying that. Of course, it would be all the better, she said. But it wouldn't be all the better, he's being punished. You're wrong there at any rate, said the Queen. Were you ever punished? Only for faults, said Alice. And you were all the better for it, I know, the Queen said triumphantly. Yes, but then I had done the things I was punished for, said Alice. And that makes all the difference. But if you hadn't done them all, the Queen said, that would have been better still, better and better and better. Her voice went higher with each better till it got quite to a squeak at last. Alice was just beginning to say, there's a mistake somewhere, when the Queen began screaming so loud that she had to leave the sentence unfinished. Oh! Oh! Oh! shouted the Queen, shaking her hand about as if she wanted to shake it off. My finger's bleeding. Oh! Oh! Oh! Her screams were so exactly like the whistle of a steam engine that Alice had to hold her hands over her ears. What is the matter, she said, as soon as there was a chance of making herself heard. Have you pricked your finger? I haven't pricked it yet, the Queen said. But I soon shall. Oh! Oh! Oh! When do you expect to do it? Alice asked, feeling very much inclined to laugh. When I fastened my shawl again, the poor Queen groaned out, the brooch will come undone directly. Oh! Oh! And as she said the words, the brooch flew open and the Queen clutched wildly at it and tried to clasp it again. Take care, said Alice. You're holding it all crooked. And she caught it the brooch, but it was too late. The pin had slipped, and the Queen had pricked her finger. That accounts for the bleeding, you see. She said to Alice with a smile. Now you'll understand the way things happen here. But why don't you scream now? Alice asked, holding her hands ready to put over her ears again. Why? I've done all the screaming already, said the Queen. What would be the good of having it all over again? By this time it was getting light. The crow must have flown away, I think, said Alice. I'm so glad it's gone. I thought it was the night coming on. I wish I could manage to be glad, the Queen said. Early I never can remember the rule. You must be very happy living in this wood and being glad whenever you like. Only it is very lonely here, Alice said in a melancholy voice, and at the thought of her loneliness, two large tears came rolling down her cheeks. Oh, don't go on like that! cried the poor Queen, ringing her hands in despair. Consider what a great girl you are! Consider what a long way you've come today! Consider what a clock it is! Consider anything! Only don't cry! Alice could not help laughing at this, even in the midst of her tears. Can you keep from crying by considering things? she asked. That's the way it's done, the Queen said with great decision. Nobody can do two things once, you know. Let's consider your age to begin with. How old are you? I'm seven-and-a-half exactly. You needn't say exactly, the Queen remarked. I can believe it without that. No, I'll give you something to believe. I'm just one hundred and one five months than the day. I can't believe that, said Alice. Can't you? The Queen said in a pitting tone, try again. Draw a long breath and shut your eyes. Alice laughed. There's no use trying, she said. One can't believe impossible things. Oh, I daresay you haven't had much practice, said the Queen. When I was your age, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast. There goes the shawl again! The brooch had come undone, as she spoke, and a sudden gust of wind blew the Queen's shawl across a little brook. The Queen spread out her arms again and went flying after it, and this time she succeeded in catching it herself. I've got it! she cried in a triumphant tone. No, you shall see me pin it on again all by myself. Then I hope your finger is better now, Alice said very politely, as she crossed the little brook after the Queen. Oh, much better! cried the Queen, her voice rising to a squeak as she went on. Much better! better! better! better! The last word ended in a long bleat, so like a sheep that Alice quite started. She looked at the Queen, who seemed to have suddenly wrapped herself up in wool. Alice rubbed her eyes and looked again. She couldn't make out what had happened at all. Was she in a shop? And was that really a sheep that was sitting on the other side of the counter? Rather she could. She could make nothing more of it. She was in a little dark shop, leaning with her elbows on the counter, and opposite to her was an old sheep, sitting in an armchair, knitting, and every now and then leaving off to look at her through a great pair of spectacles. What is it that you want to buy? The sheep said at last, looking up for a moment from her knitting. I don't quite know yet, Alice said very gently. I should like to look all around me first, if I might. You may look in front of you, and on both sides, if you like, said the sheep, but you can't look all around you, unless you've got eyes in the back of your head. But these, as it happened, Alice had not got, so she contented herself with turning around, looking at the shelves as she came to them. The shop seemed to be full of all manner of curious things, but the oddest part of it all was that whenever she looked hard at any shelf to make out exactly what it had on it, that particular shelf was always quite empty, though the others round it were as crowded as full as they could hold. Things flow about so here, she said at last, in a plaintive tone, after she had spent a minute or so in vainly pursuing a large, bright thing that looked sometimes like a doll, and sometimes like a workbox, and was always in the shelf next above the one she was looking at. And this one is the most provoking of all. But I'll tell you what, she added, as a sudden thought struck her. I'll follow it up to the very top shelf of all. It'll puzzle it to go through the ceiling, I expect. But even this plan failed. The thing went through the ceiling as quietly as possible, as if it were quite used to it. Are you a child, or a tea totem? The sheep said as she took up another pair of needles. You'll make me giddy, soad, if you go on turning round like that. She was now working with fourteen pairs at once, and Alice couldn't help looking at her in great astonishment. How can she knit with so many, the puzzled child thought to herself? She gets more and more like a porcupine every minute. Can you row? the sheep asked, handing her a pair of knitting needles as she spoke. Yes, a little, but not on land, and not with needles. Alice was beginning to say, when suddenly the needles turned into oars in her hands, and she found they were in a little boat, gliding along between banks. So there was nothing for it but to do her best. Feather! cried the sheep, as she took up another pair of needles. This didn't sound like a remark that needed any answer, so Alice said nothing, but pulled away. There was something very queer about the water, she thought, as every now and then the oars got fast in it, and would hardly come out again. Feather! Feather! the sheep cried again, taking more needles. You'll be catching a crab directly. A dear little crab, thought Alice, I should like that. Did you hear me say, Feather! the sheep cried angrily, taking up quite a bunch of needles. Ah, indeed I did, said Alice. You've said it very often, and very loud. Um, but please, where are the crabs? In the water, of course, said the sheep, sticking some of the needles into her hair, as her hands were very full. Feather! I say. Why do you say feather so often? Alice asked at last, rather vexed. I'm not a bird. You—ah! said the sheep. You're a little goose. This offended Alice a little, so there was no more conversation for a minute or two, while the boat glided gently on, sometimes among beds of weeds, which made the oars stick fast in the water, worse than ever, and sometimes under trees, but all was with the same tall river banks frowning over their heads. Oh, please, there are some scented rushes! Alice cried in a sudden transport of delight. There really are, and such beauties! You needn't say please to be about them! The sheep said, without looking up from her knitting, I didn't put up there, and I'm not going to take them away. No, but I meant please, may we wait and pick some? Alice pleaded, if you don't mind stopping the boat for a minute. How am I to stop it? said the sheep. If you leave us rowing, it'll stop itself. So the boat was left to drift down the stream as it would, till it glided gently in among the waving rushes. And then the little sleeves were carefully rolled up, and the little arms were plunged in elbow deep to get the rushes a good long way down before breaking them off. And for a while Alice forgot all about the sheep and the knitting. And she bent over the side of the boat, with just the ends of her tangled hair dipping into the water, while with bright eager eyes she caught at one bunch after another of the darling scented rushes. I only hoped the boat won't tipple over, she said to herself. Oh, what a lovely one! Only I couldn't quite reach it, and it certainly did seem a little provoking. Almost as if it happened on purpose, she thought. That though she managed to pick plenty of beautiful rushes as the boat glided by, there was always a more lovely one that she couldn't reach. The prettiest are always further, she said at last, with a sigh at the obstinacy of those rushes in growing so far off, as with flushed cheeks and dripping hair and hands she scrambled back into her place, and began to arrange her new found treasures. What matted it to her just then that the rushes had began to fade and lose all their scent and beauty from the very moment she had picked them? Even real scented rushes, you know, last only a very little while, and these being dream rushes, melted away almost like snow as they lay in heaps at her feet. But Alice hardly noticed this, there were so many other curious things to look about. They hadn't got much further before the blade of one of the oars got fast in the water and wouldn't come out again, so Alice explained it afterwards, and the consequence of this was that the handle of it caught her under the chid, and in spite of a series of little shrieks of from poor Alice, it swept her straight off the seat and down among the heaps of rushes. However she wasn't hurt and was soon up again. The sheep went on with her knitting all the while just as if nothing had happened. That was a nice crab, you cut! She remarked as Alice got back into her place, very much relieved to find herself still in the boat. Was it? I didn't see it, said Alice, peeping cautiously over the side of the boat into the dark water. I wish I hadn't let it go, I should so like to see a little crab to take home with me. But the sheep only laughed scornfully and went on with her knitting. Are there many crabs here? said Alice. Crabs and all sorts of things, said the sheep. Plenty of choice, only make up your mind. Now, what do you want to buy? To buy, Alice echoed in a tone that was half astonished and half frightened. For the oars and the boats and the river had vanished in a moment, and she was back again in the little dark shop. I should like to buy an egg, please, she said timidly. How do you sell them? Five pence farthing for one. Happens for two, the sheep replied. Then two are cheaper than one. Alice said in a surprised tone, taking out her purse. Only you must eat them both, if you buy two, said the sheep. Then I'll have one, please, said Alice as she put the money down on the counter. For she thought to herself, they mightn't be at all nice, you know. The sheep took the money and put it away in a box. Then she said, I'd never put things in people's hands, that would never do. You must get it for yourself. And so saying, she went off to the other end of the shop, and set the egg upright on a shelf. I wonder why it wouldn't do, thought Alice, as she groped her way among the tables and chairs. For the shop was very dark toward the end. The egg seems to get further away the more I walk towards it. Let me see, is this a chair? Why, it's got branches, I declare. How very odd to find trees growing here, and actually, here's a little brook. Why, this is the very queerest shop I ever saw. So she went on, wandering more and more at every step, as everything turned into a tree the moment she came up to it, and she quite expected the egg to do the same. End of Chapter 5