Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll (carter reed txt) 📕
- Author: Lewis Carroll
- Performer: 0451527747
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Then Al-ice fell in-to a long train of thought as to what she would do if she were a Duch-ess.
She quite lost sight of the Duch-ess by her side, and was star-tled when she heard her voice close to her ear.
"You have some-thing on your mind, my dear, and that makes you for-get to talk. I can't tell you just now what the mor-al of that is, but I shall think of it in a bit."
"Are you sure it has one?" asked Al-ice.
"Tut, tut, child!" said the Duch-ess; "all things have a mor-al if you can but find it." And she squeezed up close to Al-ice's side as she spoke.
Al-ice did not much like to have the Duch-ess keep so close, but she didn't like to be rude, so she bore it as well as she could.
"The game is not so bad now," Al-ice said, think-ing she ought to fill in the time with talk of some kind.
"'Tis so," said the Duch-ess, "and the mor-al of that is—'Oh, 'tis love, 'tis love, that makes the world go round!'"
"Some one said, it's done by each one mind-ing his own work," said Al-ice.
"Ah! well, it means much the same thing," said the Duch-ess, then add-ed, "and the mor-al of that is—'Take care of the sense and the sounds will take care of themselves.'"
"How she likes to find mor-als in things," said Al-ice.
"Why don't you talk more and not think so long?" asked the Duch-ess.
"I've a right to think," said Al-ice in a sharp tone, for she was tired and vexed.
"Just as much right," said the Duch-ess, "as pigs have to fly; and the mor—"
But here the voice of the Duch-ess died out in the midst of her pet word, "mor-al," and Al-ice felt the arm that was linked in hers shake as if with fright. Al-ice looked up and there stood the Queen in front of them with her arms fold-ed, and a dark frown up-on her face.
"A fine day, your ma-jes-ty!" the Duch-ess be-gan in a weak voice.
"Now, I warn you in time," shout-ed the Queen, with a stamp on the ground as she spoke; "ei-ther you or your head must be off, and that in a-bout half no time! Take your choice!"
The Duch-ess took her choice and was gone in a mo-ment.
"Let's go on with the game," the Queen said to Al-ice; and Al-ice was in too great a fright to speak, but went with her, back to the cro-quet ground.
The guests had all sat down in the shade to rest while the Queen was a-way, but as soon as they saw her they rushed back to the game; while the Queen said if they were not in their pla-ces at once, it would cost them their lives.
All the time the game went on the Queen kept shout-ing, "Off with his head!" or "Off with her head!" so that by the end of half an hour there was no one left on the grounds but the King, the Queen, and Al-ice.
Then the Queen left off, quite out of breath, and said to Al-ice, "Have you seen the Mock Tur-tle yet?"
"No," said Al-ice, "I don't know what a Mock-tur-tle is."
"It is a thing Mock Tur-tle Soup is made from," the Queen said.
"I've nev-er seen or heard of one," Alice said.
"Come on then, and he shall tell you his sto-ry," said the Queen.
As they walked off, Al-ice heard the King say in a low tone to those whom the Queen had doomed to death, "You may all go free!" "Come, that's a good thing," thought Al-ice, for she felt ver-y sad that all those men must have their heads cut off.
They soon came to where a Gry-phon lay fast a-sleep in the sun. (If you don't know what it is like, look at the pic-ture.) "Up, dull thing!" said the Queen, "and take this young la-dy to see the Mock Tur-tle. I must go back now;" and she walked a-way and left Al-ice with the Gry-phon. Al-ice was by no means pleased with its looks, but she thought she would be quite as safe with it as she would be with the Queen; so she wait-ed.
The Gry-phon sat up and rubbed its eyes; then watched the Queen till she was out of sight; then it laughed. "What fun!" it said, half to it-self, half to Alice.
"What is the fun?" she asked.
"Why, she," it said. "It's all a whim of hers; they nev-er cut off those heads, you know. Come on."
Soon they saw the Mock Tur-tle sitting sad and lone on a ledge of rock, and as they came near, Al-ice could hear him sigh as if his heart would break. "What makes him so sad?" Al-ice asked.
"It's all a whim of his," said the Gry-phon; "he hasn't got no grief, you know. Come on!"
So they went up to the Mock Tur-tle, who looked at them with large eyes full of tears, but did not speak.
"This here young la-dy," said the Gry-phon, "she wants for to know a-bout your past life, she do."
"I'll tell it to her," said the Mock Tur-tle in a deep, sad tone: "sit down both of you and don't speak a word till I get through."
So they sat down, and no one spoke for some time.
"Once," said the Mock Tur-tle at last, with a deep sigh, "I was a re-al Tur-tle. When we were young we went to school in the sea. We were taught by an old Tur-tle—we used to call him Tor-toise—"
"Why did you call him Tor-toise, if he wasn't one?" Al-ice asked.
"He taught us, that's why," said the Mock Tur-tle: "you are quite dull not to know that!"
"Shame on you to ask such a sim-ple thing," add-ed the Gry-phon; then they both sat and looked at poor Al-ice, who felt as if she could sink into the earth.
At last the Gry-phon said to the Mock Tur-tle, "Drive on, old fellow! Don't be all day a-bout it!" and he went on in these words:
"Yes, we went to school in the sea, though you mayn't think it's true—"
"I didn't say I did not!" said Al-ice.
"You did," said the Mock Tur-tle.
"Hold your tongue," add-ed the Gry-phon.
The Mock Tur-tle went on:
"We were well taught—in fact we went to school each day—"
"I've been to a day school too," said Alice; "you needn't be so proud as all that."
"Were you taught wash-ing?" asked the Mock Tur-tle.
"Of course not," said Al-ice.
"Ah! then yours wasn't a good school," said the Mock Tur-tle. "Now at ours they had at the end of the bill, 'French, mu-sic, and wash-ing—ex-tra.'"
"You couldn't have need-ed it much in the sea," said Al-ice.
"I didn't learn it," said the Mock Tur-tle, with a sigh. "I just took the first course."
"What was that?" asked Al-ice.
"Reel-ing and Writh-ing, of course, at first," the Mock Tur-tle said. "An old eel used to come once a week. He taught us to drawl, to stretch and to faint in coils."
"What was that like?" Al-ice asked.
"Well, I can't show you, my-self," he said: "I'm too stiff. And the Gry-phon didn't learn it."
"How man-y hours a day did you do les-sons?" asked Al-ice.
"Ten hours the first day," said the Mock Tur-tle; "nine the next and so on."
"What a strange plan!" said Al-ice.
"That's why they're called les-sons," said the Gry-phon: "they les-sen from day to day."
This was such a new thing to Al-ice that she sat still a good while and didn't speak. "Then there would be a day when you would have no school," she said.
"Of course there would," said the Mock Tur-tle.
"What did you do then?" asked Al-ice.
"I'm tired of this," said the Gry-phon: "tell her now of the games we played."
CHAPTER X. THE LOB-STER DANCE.The Mock Tur-tle sighed, looked at Al-ice and tried to speak, but for a min-ute or two sobs choked his voice. "Same as if he had a bone in his throat," said the Gry-phon, and set to work to shake him and punch him in the back. At last the Mock Tur-tle found his voice and with tears run-ning down his cheeks, he went on:
"You may not have lived much in the sea"—("I have-n't," said Al-ice) "so you can not know what a fine thing a Lob-ster Dance is!"
"No," said Al-ice. "What sort of a dance is it?"
"Why," said the Gry-phon, "you first form in a line on the sea-shore—"
"Two lines!" cried the Mock Tur-tle. "Seals, tur-tles, and so on; then when you've cleared all the small fish out of the way—"
"That takes some time," put in the Gry-phon.
"You move to the front twice—"
"Each with a lob-ster by his side!" cried the Gry-phon.
"Of course," the Mock Tur-tle said: "move to the front twice—"
"Change and come back in same way," said the Gry-phon.
"Then, you know," the Mock Tur-tle went on, "you throw the—"
"The lob-sters!" shout-ed the Gry-phon, with a bound in-to the air.
"As far out to sea as you can—"
"Swim out for them," screamed the Gry-phon.
"Turn heels o-ver head in the sea!" cried the Mock Tur-tle.
"Change a-gain!" yelled the Gry-phon at the top of his voice.
"Then back to land, and—that's all the first part," said the Mock Tur-tle.
Both the Gry-phon and the Mock Tur-tle had jumped a-bout like mad things all this time. Now they sat down quite sad and still, and looked at Al-ice.
"It must be a pret-ty dance," said Al-ice.
"Would you like to see some of it?" asked the Mock Tur-tle.
"Oh, yes," she said.
"Come, let's try the first part!" said the Mock Tur-tle to the Gry-phon. "We can do it without lob-sters, you know. Which shall sing?"
"Oh, you sing," said the Gry-phon. "I don't know the words."
So they danced round and round Al-ice, now and then tread-ing on her toes when they passed too close. They waved their fore paws to mark the time, while the Mock Tur-tle sang a queer kind of song, each verse of which end-ed with these words:
"Thank you, it's a fine dance to watch," said Al-ice, glad that it was o-ver at last.
"Now," said the Gry-phon, "tell us a-bout what you have seen and done in your life."
"I could tell you of the strange things I have seen to-day," said Al-ice, with some doubt as to their wish-ing to hear it.
"All right, go on," they both cried.
So Al-ice told them what she had been through that day, from the time when she first saw the White Rab-bit. They came up quite close to her, one on each side, and sat still till she got to the part where she tried to say, "You are old, Fath-er Wil-liam," and the words all came wrong. Then the Mock Tur-tle drew a long breath and said, "That's quite strange!"
"It's all as strange as it can be," said the Gry-phon.
"It all came wrong!" the Mock Tur-tle said, while he seemed to be in deep thought. "I should like to hear her try to say some-thing now. Tell her to be-gin." He looked at the Gry-phon as if he thought it had the right to make Al-ice do as it pleased.
"Stand up and say, 'Tis the voice of the Slug-gard,'" said the Gry-phon.
"How they do try to make one do things!" thought Al-ice. "I might just as well be at school at once." She stood up and tried to re-peat it, but her head was so full of the Lob-ster Dance, that she didn't know what she was say-ing, and the words all came ver-y queer, in-deed:
'You have baked me too brown, I must su-gar my hair.'
As a duck with its eye-lids, so he with
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