`What was that?’ inquired Alice.
`Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,’ the Mock Turtle replied;
`and then the different branches of Arithmetic– Ambition, Distraction,
Uglification, and Derision.’
`I never heard of “Uglification,”‘ Alice ventured to say. `What is it?’
The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise. `What! Never heard of
uglifying!’ it exclaimed. `You know what to beautify is, I suppose?’
`Yes,’ said Alice doubtfully: `it means–to–make–anything–prettier.’
`Well, then,’ the Gryphon went on, `if you don’t know what to uglify is, you
ARE a simpleton.’
Alice did not feel encouraged to ask any more questions about it, so she
turned to the Mock Turtle, and said `What else had you to learn?’
`Well, there was Mystery,’ the Mock Turtle replied, counting off the subjects
on his flappers, `–Mystery, ancient and modern, with Seaography: then
Drawling–the Drawling-master was an old conger-eel, that used to come
once a week: HE taught us Drawling, Stretching, and Fainting in Coils.’
`What was THAT like?’ said Alice.
`Well, I can’t show it you myself,’ the Mock Turtle said: `I’m too stiff. And
the Gryphon never learnt it.’
`Hadn’t time,’ said the Gryphon: `I went to the Classics master, though. He
was an old crab, HE was.’
`I never went to him,’ the Mock Turtle said with a sigh: `he taught
Laughing and Grief, they used to say.’
`So he did, so he did,’ said the Gryphon, sighing in his turn; and both
creatures hid their faces in their paws.
`And how many hours a day did you do lessons?’ said Alice, in a hurry to
change the subject.
`Ten hours the first day,’ said the Mock Turtle: `nine the next, and so on.’
`What a curious plan!’ exclaimed Alice.
`That’s the reason they’re called lessons,’ the Gryphon remarked: `because
they lessen from day to day.’
This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought it over a little before
she made her next remark. `Then the eleventh day
must have been a holiday?’
`Of course it was,’ said the Mock Turtle.
`And how did you manage on the twelfth?’ Alice went on eagerly.
`That’s enough about lessons,’ the Gryphon interrupted in a very decided
tone: `tell her something about the games now.’
CHAPTER X The Lobster Quadrille
The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and drew the back of one flapper across his
eyes. He looked at Alice, and tried to speak, but for a minute or two sobs
choked his voice. `Same as if he had a bone in his throat,’ said the
Gryphon: and it set to work shaking him and punching him in the back. At
last the Mock Turtle recovered his voice, and, with tears running down his
cheeks, he went on again:–
`You may not have lived much under the sea–‘ (`I haven’t,’ said Alice)–
`and perhaps you were never even introduced to a lobster–‘ (Alice began
to say `I once tasted–‘ but checked herself hastily, and said `No, never’)
`–so you can have no idea what a delightful thing a Lobster Quadrille is!’
`No, indeed,’ said Alice. `What sort of a dance is it?’
`Why,’ said the Gryphon, `you first form into a line along the sea-shore–‘
`Two lines!’ cried the Mock Turtle. `Seals, turtles, salmon, and so on; then,
when you’ve cleared all the jelly-fish out of the way–‘
`THAT generally takes some time,’ interrupted the Gryphon.
`–you advance twice–‘
`Each with a lobster as a partner!’ cried the Gryphon.
`Of course,’ the Mock Turtle said: `advance twice, set to partners–‘
`–change lobsters, and retire in same order,’ continued the Gryphon.
`Then, you know,’ the Mock Turtle went on, `you throw the–‘
`The lobsters!’ shouted the Gryphon, with a bound into the air.
`–as far out to sea as you can–‘
`Swim after them!’ screamed the Gryphon.
`Turn a somersault in the sea!’ cried the Mock Turtle, capering wildly about.
`Change lobster’s again!’ yelled the Gryphon at the top of its voice.
`Back to land again, and that’s all the first figure,’ said the Mock Turtle,
suddenly dropping his voice; and the two creatures, who had been jumping
about like mad things all this time, sat down again very sadly and quietly,
and looked at Alice.
`It must be a very pretty dance,’ said Alice timidly.
`Would you like to see a little of it?’ said the Mock Turtle.
`Very much indeed,’ said Alice.
`Come, let’s try the first figure!’ said the Mock Turtle to the Gryphon. `We
can do without lobsters, you know. Which shall sing?’
`Oh, YOU sing,’ said the Gryphon. `I’ve forgotten the words.’
So they began solemnly dancing round and round Alice, every now and
then treading on her toes when they passed too close, and waving their
forepaws to mark the time, while the Mock Turtle sang this, very slowly and
sadly:–
`”Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail. “There’s a porpoise
close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail. See how eagerly the lobsters
and the turtles all advance! They are waiting on the shingle–will you come
and join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance? Will you,
won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?
“You can really have no notion how delightful it will be When they take us
up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!” But the snail replied “Too
far, too far!” and gave a look askance– Said he thanked the whiting kindly,
but he would not join the dance. Would not, could not, would not, could
not, would not join the dance. Would not, could not, would not, could not,
could not join the dance.
`”What matters it how far we go?” his scaly friend replied. “There is
another shore, you know, upon the other side. The further off from England
the nearer is to France– Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and
join the dance.
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance? Will you,
won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?”‘
`Thank you, it’s a very interesting dance to watch,’ said Alice, feeling very
glad that it was over at last: `and I do so like that curious song about the
whiting!’
`Oh, as to the whiting,’ said the Mock Turtle, `they–you’ve seen them, of
course?’
`Yes,’ said Alice, `I’ve often seen them at dinn–‘ she checked herself
hastily.
`I don’t know where Dinn may be,’ said the Mock Turtle, `but if you’ve seen
them so often, of course you know what they’re like.’
`I believe so,’ Alice replied thoughtfully. `They have their tails in their
mouths–and they’re all over crumbs.’
`You’re wrong about the crumbs,’ said the Mock Turtle: `crumbs would all
wash off in the sea. But they HAVE their tails in their mouths; and the
reason is–‘ here the Mock Turtle yawned and shut his eyes.–`Tell her
about the reason and all that,’ he said to the Gryphon.
`The reason is,’ said the Gryphon, `that they WOULD go with the lobsters
to the dance. So they got thrown out to sea. So they had to fall a long way.
So they got their tails fast in their mouths. So they couldn’t get them out
again. That’s all.’
`Thank you,’ said Alice, `it’s very interesting. I never knew so much about a
whiting before.’
`I can tell you more than that, if you like,’ said the Gryphon. `Do you know
why it’s called a whiting?’
`I never thought about it,’ said Alice. `Why?’
`IT DOES THE BOOTS AND SHOES.’ the Gryphon replied very solemnly.
Alice was thoroughly puzzled. `Does the boots and shoes!’ she repeated in a
wondering tone.
`Why, what are YOUR shoes done with?’ said the Gryphon. `I mean, what
makes them so shiny?’
Alice looked down at them, and considered a little before she gave her
answer. `They’re done with blacking, I believe.’
`Boots and shoes under the sea,’ the Gryphon went on in a deep voice,
`are done with a whiting. Now you know.’
`And what are they made of?’ Alice asked in a tone of great curiosity.
`Soles and eels, of course,’ the Gryphon replied rather impatiently: `any
shrimp could have told you that.’
`If I’d been the whiting,’ said Alice, whose thoughts were still running on
the song, `I’d have said to the porpoise, “Keep back, please: we don’t want
YOU with us!”‘
`They were obliged to have him with them,’ the Mock Turtle said: `no wise
fish would go anywhere without a porpoise.’
`Wouldn’t it really?’ said Alice in a tone of great surprise.
`Of course not,’ said the Mock Turtle: `why, if a fish came to ME, and told
me he was going a journey, I should say “With what porpoise?”‘
`Don’t you mean “purpose”?’ said Alice.
`I mean what I say,’ the Mock Turtle replied in an offended tone. And the
Gryphon added `Come, let’s hear some of YOUR adventures.’
`I could tell you my adventures–beginning from this morning,’ said Alice a
little timidly: `but it’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a
different person then.’
`Explain all that,’ said the Mock Turtle.
`No, no! The adventures first,’ said the Gryphon in an impatient tone:
`explanations take such a dreadful time.’
So Alice began telling them her adventures from the time when she first
saw the White Rabbit. She was a little nervous about it just at first, the two
creatures got so close to her, one on each side, and opened their eyes and
mouths so VERY wide, but she gained courage as she went on. Her
listeners were perfectly quiet till she got to the part about her repeating
`YOU ARE OLD, FATHER WILLIAM,’ to the Caterpillar, and the words all
coming different, and then the Mock Turtle drew a long breath, and said
`That’s very curious.’
`It’s all about as curious as it can be,’ said the Gryphon.
`It all came different!’ the Mock Turtle repeated thoughtfully. `I should like
to hear her try and repeat something now. Tell her to begin.’ He looked at
the Gryphon as if he thought it had some kind of authority over Alice.
`Stand up and repeat “‘TIS THE VOICE OF THE SLUGGARD,”‘ said the
Gryphon.
`How the creatures order one about, and make one repeat lessons!’
thought Alice; `I might as well be at school at once.’ However, she got up,
and began to repeat it, but her head was so full of the Lobster Quadrille,
that she hardly knew what she was saying, and the words came very queer
indeed:–
`’Tis the voice of the Lobster; I heard him declare, “You have baked me too
brown, I must sugar my hair.” As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his
nose Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.’
[later editions continued as follows When the sands are all dry, he is gay as
a lark, And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark, But, when the tide
rises and sharks are around, His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.]
`That’s different from what I used to say when I was a child,’ said the
Gryphon.
`Well, I never heard it before,’ said the Mock Turtle; `but it sounds
uncommon nonsense.’
Alice said nothing; she had sat down with her face in her hands, wondering
if anything would EVER happen in a natural way again.
`I should like to have it explained,’ said the Mock Turtle.
`She can’t explain it,’ said the Gryphon hastily. `Go on with the next verse.’
`But about his toes?’ the Mock Turtle persisted. `How COULD he turn them
out with his nose, you know?’
`It’s the first position in dancing.’ Alice said; but was dreadfully puzzled by
the whole thing, and longed to change the subject.
`Go on with the next verse,’ the Gryphon repeated impatiently: `it begins “I
passed by his garden.”‘
Alice did not dare to disobey, though she felt sure it would all come wrong,
and she went on in a trembling voice:–
`I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye, How the Owl and the
Panther were sharing a pie–‘
[later editions continued as follows The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy,
and meat, While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat. When the
pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon, Was kindly permitted to pocket the
spoon: While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl, And
concluded the banquet–]
`What IS the use of repeating all that stuff,’ the Mock Turtle interrupted, `if
you don’t explain it as you go on? It’s by far the most confusing thing I ever
heard!’
`Yes, I think you’d better leave off,’ said the Gryphon: and Alice was only
too glad to do so.
`Shall we try another figure of the Lobster Quadrille?’ the Gryphon went on.
`Or would you like the Mock Turtle to sing you a song?’
`Oh, a song, please, if the Mock Turtle would be so kind,’ Alice replied, so
eagerly that the Gryphon said, in a rather offended tone, `Hm! No
accounting for tastes! Sing her “Turtle Soup,” will you, old fellow?’
The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and began, in a voice sometimes choked
with sobs, to sing this:–
`Beautiful Soup, so rich and green,
Waiting in a hot tureen!
Who for such dainties would not stoop?
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
Beau–ootiful Soo–oop!
Beau–ootiful Soo–oop!
Soo–oop of the e–e–evening,
Beautiful, beautiful Soup!
`Beautiful Soup! Who cares for fish,
Game, or any other dish?
Who would not give all else for two p
ennyworth only of beautiful Soup?
Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?
Beau–ootiful Soo–oop!
Beau–ootiful Soo–oop!
Soo–oop of the e–e–evening,
Beautiful, beauti–FUL SOUP!’
`Chorus again!’ cried the Gryphon, and the Mock Turtle had just begun to
repeat it, when a cry of `The trial’s beginning!’ was heard in the distance.
`Come on!’ cried the Gryphon, and, taking Alice by the hand, it hurried off,
without waiting for the end of the song.
`What trial is it?’ Alice panted as she ran; but the Gryphon only answered
`Come on!’ and ran the faster, while more and more faintly came, carried
on the breeze that followed them, the
melancholy words:–
`Soo–oop of the e–e–evening,
Beautiful, beautiful Soup!’
CHAPTER XI Who Stole the Tarts?
The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when they
arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them–all sorts of little birds
and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards: the Knave was standing
before them, in chains, with a soldier on each side to guard him; and near
the King was the White Rabbit, with a trumpet in one hand, and a scroll of
parchment in the other. In the very middle of the court was a table, with a
large dish of tarts upon it: they looked so good, that it made Alice quite
hungry to look at them–`I wish they’d get the trial done,’ she thought,
`and hand round the refreshments!’ But there seemed to be no chance of
this, so she began looking at everything about her, to pass away the time.
Alice had never been in a court of justice before, but she had read about
them in books, and she was quite pleased to find that she knew the name
of nearly everything there. `That’s the judge,’ she said to herself, `because
of his great wig.’
The judge, by the way, was the King; and as he wore his crown over the
wig, (look at the frontispiece if you want to see how he did it,) he did not
look at all comfortable, and it was certainly not becoming.
`And that’s the jury-box,’ thought Alice, `and those twelve creatures,’ (she
was obliged to say `creatures,’ you see, because some of them were