THE next moment soldiers came running
through the wood, at first in twos and threes,
then ten or twenty together, and at last in such
crowds that they seemed to fill the whole forest.
Alice got behind a tree, for fear of being run over,
and watched them go by.
She thought that in all her life she had never seen
soldiers so uncertain on their feet: they were always
tripping over something or other, and whenever one
went down, several more always fell over him, so
that the ground was soon covered with little heaps
of men.
Then came the horses. Having four feet, these
managed rather better than the foot-soldiers: but
even i{they} stumbled now and then; and it seemed to
be a regular rule that, whenever a horse stumbled,
the rider fell off instantly. The confusion got worse
every moment, and Alice was very glad to get into
an open place, where she found the White King
seated on the ground, busily writing in his
memor-andum-book.
"I've sent them all!" the King cried in a tone of
delight, on seeing Alice. "Did you happen to meet
any soldiers, my dear, as you came through the
wood?"
"Yes, I did," said Alice: "several thousand, I
should think."
"Four thousand two hundred and seven, that's
the exact number," the King said, referring to his
book. "I couldn't send all the horses, you know,
because two of them are wanted in the game. And
I haven't sent the two Messengers, either. They've
both gone to the town. Just look along the road,
and tell me if you can see either of them."
"I see nobody on the road," said Alice.
"I only wish i{I} had such eyes," the King
remarked in a fretful tone. "To be able to see N
obody! And at that distance too! Why, it's as much
as i{I} can do to see real people, by this light!"
All this was lost on Alice, who was still looking
intently along the road, shading her eyes with one
hand. "I see somebody now!" she exclaimed at
last. "But he's coming very slowly--and what
curious attitudes he goes into!" (For the M
essenger kept skipping up and down, and wriggling like
an eel, as he came along, with his great hands
spread out like fans on each side.)
"Not at all," said the King. "He's an A
nloSaxon Messenger--and those are Anglo-Saxon
attitudes. He only does them when he's happy.
His name is Haigha." (He pronounced it so as to
rhyme with "mayor.")
"I love my love wih an H," Alice couldn't help
beginning, "because he is Happy. I hate him with
an H, because he is Hideous. I fed him withwith--with Ham-sandwiches and Hay. His name
is Haigha, and he lives---"
"He lives on the Hill," the King remarked
simply, without the least idea that he was joining
in the game, while Alice was still hesitating for the
name of a town beginning with H. "The other
Messenger's called Hatta. I must have i{two,} you
know--to come and go. One to come, and one to
go."
"I beg your pardon?" said Alice.
"It isn't respectable to beg," said the King.
"I only meant that I didn't understand," said
Alice. "Why one to come and one to go?"
"Don't I tell you?" the King repeated
impatiently. "I must have i{two--}to fetch and carry. One
to fetch, and one to carry."
At this moment the Messenger arrived: he was
far too much out of breath to say a word, and could
only wave his hands about, and make the most
fearful faces at the poor King.
"This young lady loves you with an H," the
King said, introducing Alice in the hope of turning
off the Messenger's attention from himself--but It
was no use--the Anglo-Saxon attitudes only got
more extraordinary every moment, while the great
eyes rolled wildly from side to side.
"You alarm me!" said the King. "I feel faintgive me a ham sandwich!"
On which the Messenger, to Alice's great
amusement, opened a bag that hung round his neck, and
handed a sandwich to the King, who devoured it
greedily.
"Another sandwich!" said the King.
"There's nothing but hay left now," the M
essenger said, peeping into the bag.
"Hay, then," the King faintly murmured.
Alice was glad to see that it revived him a good
deal. "There's nothing like eating hay when you're
faint," he remarked to her, as he munched away.
"I should think throwing cold water over you
would be better," Alice suggested: "---or some
salvolatile."
"I didn't say there was nothing i{better,"} the King
replied. "I said there was nothing i{like} it." Which
Alice did not venture to deny.
"Who did you pass on the road?" the King went
on, holding out his hand to the Messenger for some
more hay.
"Nobody," said the Messenger.
"Quite right," said the King: "this young lady
saw him too. So of course Nobody walks slower
than you.
"I do my best," the Messenger said in a sullen
tone. "I'm sure nobody walks much faster than I
do!"
"He can't do that," said the King, "or else he'd
have been here first. However, now you've got
your breath, you may tell us what's happened in
the town."
"I'll whisper it," said the Messenger, putting his
hands to his mouth in the shape of a trumpet and
stooping so as to get close to the King's ear. Alice
was sorry for this, as she wanted to hear the news
too- However, instead of whispering, he simply
shouted at the top of his voice. "They're at it
again!"
"Do you call i{that } a whisper!" cried the poor
King, jumping up and shaking himself. "If you do
such a thing again I'll have you buttered! It went
through and through my head like an earthquake!"
"It would have to be a very tiny earthquake!"
thought Alice. "Who are at it again?" she ventured
"Why the Lion and the Unicorn of course,"
"Fighting for the crown?
"Yes, to be sure," said the King; "and the best of
the joke is, that it's i{my} crown all the while! Let's
run and see them." And they trotted off, Alice
repeating to herself, as she ran, the words of the old
song:i{"The Lion and the Unicorn were fighting for the crown.'}
i{The Lion beat the Unicorn all round the town.}
i{Some gave them white bread and some gave them}
i{brown;}
i{Some gave them plum-cake and drummed them out}
i{of town."}
"Does--the one--that wins--get the crown?"
she asked, as well as she could, for the long run was
putting her quite out of breath.
"Dear me, no!" said the King. "What an
idea!"
"Would you--be good enough---" Alice
panted out, after running a little further, "to stop a
minute--just to get--one's -breath again?"
"I'm i{good} enough," the King said, "only I'm not
strong enough. You see, a minute goes by so
fearfully quick. You might as well try to stop a B
andersnatch!"
Alice had no more breath for talking, so they
trotted on in silence, till they came in sight of a
great crowd, in the middle of which the Lion and
Unicorn were fighting. They were in such a cloud
of dust, that at first Alice could not make out which
was which: but she soon managed to distinguish
the Unicorn by his horn.
They placed themselves close to where Hatta, the
other Messenger, was standing watching the fight,
with a cup of tea in one hand and a piece of bread
and butter in the other.
"He's only just out of prison, and he hadn't
finished his tea when he was sent in," Haigha
whispered to Alice: "and they only give them
oystershells in there--so you see he's very hungry and
thirsty. How are you, dear child?" he went on,
putting his arm affectionately round Hatta's neck.
Hatta looked round and nodded, and went on
with his bread-and-butter.
"Were you happy in prison, dear child?" said
Haigha.
Hatta looked round once more, and this time a
tear or two trickled down his cheek: but not a word
"Speak, can't You!" Haigha cried imp
"Speak, won't you!" cried the King. "How are
they getting on with the fight?"
Hatta made a desperate effort, and swallowed a
large piece of bread-and-butter. "They're getting
on very well," he said in a choking voice: "each of
them has been down about eighty-seven times."
"Then I suppose they'll soon bring the white
"bread and the brown?" Alice ventured to remark.
"It's waiting for 'em now," said Hatta: "this is a
bit of it as I'm eating."
There was a pause in the fight just then, and the
Lion and the Unicorn sat down, panting, while the
King called out "Ten minutes allowed for
refreshments!" Haigha and Hatta set to work at once,
carrying round trays of white and brown bread.
'Alice took a piece to taste, but it was i{very} dry.
"I don't think they'll fight any more to-day," the
King said to Hatta: "go and order the drums to
begin." And Hatta went bounding away like a
"grasshopper.
For a minute or two Alice stood silently
watching him. suddenlyshe brightened up look,
look!" she cried, pointing eagerly. "There's the
White Queen running across the country! She
came flying out of the wood over yonder--how fast
those Queens i{can} run"
"There's some enemy after her, no doubt," the
King said, without even looking round. "That
wood's full of them."
"But aren't you going to run and help her?" Alice
asked, very much surprised at his taking it so
quietly.
"No use, no use!" said the King. "She runs so
fearfully quick. You might as well try to catch a
Bandersnatch! But I'll make a memorandum about
her, if you like--she's a dear good creature," he
repeated softly to himself, as he opened his
memo-randum-book. "Do you spell "creature' with a
double 'e'?"
At this moment the Unicorn sauntered by them,
with his hands in his pockets. "I had the best of it
this time!" he said to the King, just glancing at him
as he passed,
"A little--a little," the King replied, rather
nervously. "You shouldn't have run him through with
your horn, you know."
"It didn't hurt him" the Unicorn said carelessly,
and he was going on, when his eye happened to fall
upon Alice: he turned round instantly, and stood
for some time looking at her with an air of the
deepest disgust
"What--is--this?" he said at last.
"This is a child!" Haigha replied eagerly, coming
in front of Alice to introduce her, and spreading out
both his hands towards her in an Anglo-Saxon
attitude. "We only found it to-day. It's as large as life,
and twice as natural!"
"I always thought they were fabulous monsters!"
said the Unicorn. "Is it alive?"
"It can talk," said Haigha, solemnly.
The unicorn looked dreamily at Alice, and said,
child."
Alice could not help her lips curling up into a
smile as she began: "Do you know, I always
, thought Unicorns were fabulous monsters, too! I
never saw one alive before!"
"Well, now that we i{have} seen each other: said
The Unicorn,"if you'll believe in me, I'll believe in
you. Is that a bargain?
"Yes, if you like," said Alice.
"Come, fetch out the plum-cake, old man!" the
Unicorn went on, turning from her to the King.
"None of your brown bread for me!"
"Certainly Certainly!" the king muttered, and
beckoned to Haigha. "Open the bag!" he
whispered. "Quick! Not that one--that's full of hay!"
Haigha took a large cake out of the bag, and gave
it to Alice to hold, while he got out a dish and
carv-ing-knife. How they all came out of it Alice
couldn't guess. It was just like a conjuring trick,
she thought.
'The Lion had joined them while this was going
on: he looked very tired and sleepy, and his eyes
were half shut. "What's this?" he said, blinking
lazily at Alice, and speaking in a deep hollow tone
that sounded like the tolling of a great bell.
"Ah, what i{is} it, now ?" the Unicorn cried eagerly,
"You'll never guess! I couldn't."
The Lion looked at Alice wearily. "Are you
animal---or vegetable--or mineral?" he said,
yawning at every other word
"It's a fabulous monster!" the Unicorn cried
out, before Alice could reply.
"Then hand round the plum-cake, Monster," the
Lion said, lying down and putting his chin on his
paws. "And sit down, both of you" (to the King and
the Unicorn): "fair play with the cake, you know!"
The king was evidently very uncomfortable at
having to sit down between the two great creatures;
but there was no other place for him.
"What a fight we might have for the crown,
i{now!"} the Unicorn said, looking slyly up at the
crown, which the poor King was nearly shakin off
his head, he trembled so much.
"I should win easy," said the Lion.
"I'm not so sure of that," said the Unicorn.
"Why, I beat you all round the town, you
chicken!" the Lion replied angrily, half getting up
as he spoke.
Here the king interupted, to prevent the quarrel
going on: he was very nervous, and his voice quite
quivered. "Ali round the town?" he said. "That's
a good long way. Did you go by the old bridge, or
the market-place? You get the best view by the old
bridge
as he lay down again. "There was too much dust to
see anything. What a time the Monster is, cutting
up that cake!"
Alice had seated herself on the bank of a little
brook, with the great dish on her knees', and 'wer"as
provoking!" she said, in reply to the Lion (she was
getting quite used to being called "the Monster )"
"I've cut off several slices already, but they always
join on again!"
"You don't know how to manage Looking-glass
cakes," the Unicorn remarked. "Hand it round
first, and cut it afterwards."
This sounded nonsense, but Alice very
obediently got up, and carried the dish round, and the
cake divided itself into three pieces as she did so.
i{"Now} cut it up," said the Lion, as she returned to
her place with the empty dish.
"I say, this isn't fair!" cried the Uincorn, as Alice
sat with the knife in her hand, very much puzzled
how to begin. "The Monster has given the Lion
twice as much as me!"
"She's kept none for herself, anyhow," said the
But before Alice could answer him the drums
began.
'out: the air seemed full of it, and it rang through
She started to her feet, and sprang across the little
brook in her terror, and had just time to see the
Lion and the Unicorn rise to their feet, with angry
looks at being interrupted in their feast, before she
dropped to her knees and put her hands over her
ears, vainly trying to shut out the dreadful uproar.
"If i{that} doesn't "drum them out of town,' " she
thought to herself, "nothing ever will!"
AFTER a while the noise seemed gradually to
die away, till all was dead silence, and Alice
lifted up her head in some alarm. There was no one
' to be seen, and her first thought was that she must
have been dreaming about the Lion and the U
nicorn and those queer Anglo-Saxon Messengers,
however, there was the great dish still lying at her
feet, on which she had tried to cut the plum-cake'
"So I wasn't dreaming, after all." she said to
herself, "unless--unless we're all part of the same
dream. Only I do hope it's i{my} dream and not the
Red King's! I don't like belonging to another
person's dream," she went on in a rather complaining
tone: "I've a great mind to go and wake him, and
see what happens!"
, At this moment her thoughts were interrupted by
a loud shouting of "Ahoy! Ahoy! Check!" and a
Knight, dressed in crimson armour, came galloping
down upon her, brandishing a great club. just as
he reached her, the horse stopped suddenly:
"You're my prisoner!" the Knight cried, as he
tumbled off his horse.
Startled as she was, Alice was more frightened
for him than for herself at the moment, and watched
'him with some anxiety as he mounted again. As
soon as he was comfortably in the saddle, he began
once more, "You're my---" but here another
voice broke in, "Ahoy! Ahoy! Check!" and
Alice looked round in some surprise for the new
enemy.
This time it was a White Knight. He drew up at
Alice's side, and tumbled off his horse just as the
Red Knight had done: then he got on again, and
the two Knights sat and looked at each other
without speaking. Alice looked from one to the other
in some bewilderment.
"She's my prisoner, you know!" the Red-Knight
said at last.
"Yes, but then I came and rescued her!" the
'White Knight replied.
"Well, we must fight for her, then," said the Red
Knight, as he took up his helmet (which hung from
the saddle, and was something the shape of a
horse's head), and put it on.
"You will observe the Rules of Battle, of
course?" the White Knight remarked, putting on
his helmet too.
"I always do," said the Red Knight, and they
began banging away at each other with such fury
that Alice got behind a tree to be out of the way of
the blows.
"I wonder, now, what the Rules of Battle are,"
she said to herself, as she watched the fight, timidly
peeping out from her hiding-place: "one Rule
seems to be that, if one Knight hits the other, he
knocks him off his horse, and if he misses, he
tumbles off-himself--and another Rule seems to be
that they hold their clubs in their arms, as if they
were Punch and Judy. What a noise they make
when they tumble! Just like fire-irons falling into
the fender! And how quiet the horses are! They
let them get on and off them just as if they were
tables!"
Another Rule of Battle, that Alice had not
noticed, seemed to be that they always fell on
theheads, and the battle ended with their both falling
off in this way, side by side: when they got up again,
they shook hands, and then the Red Knight
mounted and galloped off.
"It was a glorious victory, wasn't it?" said the
White Knight, as he came up panting.
"I don't know," Alice said doubtfully. "I don't
want to be anybody's prisoner. I want to be
Queen. "
"So you will, when you've crossed the next
brook," said the White Knight. "I'll see you safe
to the end of the wood--and then I must go back,
you know. That's the end of my move."
"Thank you very much," said Alice. "May I
help you off with your helmet?" It was evidently
more than he could manage by himself; however
she managed to shake him out of it at last.
"Now one can breathe more easily," said the
Knight, putting back his shaggy hair with both
hands, and turning nis gentle face and large mild
eyes to Alice. She thought she had never seen such
a strange-looking soldier in all her life.
He was dressed in tin armour, which seemed to
fit him very badly, and he had a queer little deal box
fastened across his shoulders upside-down, and
with the lid hanging open. Alice looked at it with
great curiosity.
"I see you're admiring my little box," the Knight
said in a friendly tone. "It's my own invention--to
keep clothes and sandwiches in. You see I carry it
upside-down, so that the rain can't get in."
"But the things can get i{out,"} Alice gently
remarked. "Do you know the lid's open?"
"I didn't know it," the Knight said, a shade of
vexation passing over his face. "Then all the things
must have fallen out! And the box is no use
without them." He unfastened it as he spoke, and was
just going to throw it into the bushes, when a sudden
thought seemed to strike, and he hung it
carefully on a tree. "Can you guess why I did that!" he
said to Alice.
Alice shook her head.
"in hopes some bees may make a nest in it--then
I should get the honey."
"But you've got a bee-hive--or something like
one--fastened to the saddle," said Alice.
"Yes, it's a very good bee-hive," the Knight said
in a discontented tone, "one of the best kind. But
not a single bee has come near it yet. And the other
'thing is a mouse-trap. I suppose the mice keep the
bees out--or the bees keep the mice out, I don't
know which."
"I was wondering what the mouse-trap was for"
said Alice. "It isn't very likely there would be any
mice on the horse's back."
"Not very likely, perhaps," said the Knight; "but
if they i{do} come, I don't choose to have them
running all about."
"You see," he went on after a pause, "it's as well
to be provided for i{everything.} That's the reason the
horse has anklets round his feet."
"But what are they for?" Alice asked in a tone of
great curiosity.
"To guard against the bites of sharks," the
Knight replied. "It's an invention of my own. And
now help me on. I'll go with you to the end of the
wood--what's that dish for?"
"It's meant for plum-cake," said Alice.
"We'd better take it with us," the Knight said.
"It'll come in handy if we find any plum-cake. Help
me to get it into this bag."
This took a long time to manage, though Alice
held the bag open very carefully, because the
Knight was so i{very} awkward in putting in the dish:
the first two or three times that he tried he fell in
himself instead. "It's rather a tight fit, you see,"
he said, as they got it in at last; "there are so
many candlesticks in the bag." And he hung
it to the saddle, which was already loaded with
bunches of carrots, and fire-irons, and many other
things.
"I hope you've got you hair well fastened on?"
he continued, as they set off.
"Only in the usual way," Alice said, smiling.
"That's hardly enough," he said, anxiously.
"You see the wind is so i{very} strong here. It's as
strong as soup."
"Have you invented a plan for keeping one's
hair from being blown off?" Alice enquired.
"Not yet," said the Knight. "But I've got a plan
for keeping it from i{falling} off."
"I should like to hear it very much."
"First you take an upright stick," said the
Knight. "Then you make your hair creep up it,
Like a fruit-tree. Now the reason hair falls off is
because it hangs i{down--}things never fall i{upwards,}
you know. It's my own invention. You may try it
if you like."
It didn't sound a comfortable plan, Alice
thought, and for a few minutes she walked on in
silence, puzzling over the idea, and every now and
then stopping to help the poor Knight, who
certainly was i{not} a good rider.
Whenever the horse stopped (which it did very
often), he fell off in front; and whenever it went on
again (which it generally did rather suddenly), he
fell off behind. Otherwise he kept on pretty well,
except that he had a habit of now and then falling
off sideways; and as he generally did this on the side
on which Alice was walking, she soon found that it
was the best plan not to walk i{quite} close to the horse.
"I'm afraid you've not had much practice in
riding," she ventured to say, as she was helping him
up from his fifth tumble.
The Knight looked very much surprised, and a
little offended at the remark. "What makes you say
that?" he asked, as he scrambled back into the
saddle, keeping hold of Alice's hair with one hand,
to save himself from falling over on the other side
"Because people don't fall off quite so often,
when they've had much practice."
"I've had plenty of practice," the Knight said
very gravely: "plenty of practice!"
Alice could think of nothing better to say than
"Indeed?" but she said it as heartily as she could
They went on a little way in silence after this, the
Knight with his eyes shut, muttering to himself, and
Alice watching anxiously for the next tumble.
"The great art of riding," the Knight suddenly
began in a loud voice, waving his right arm as he
spoke "is to keep---" Here the sentence ended
as suddenly as it had begun, as the Knight fell
heavily on the top of his head exactly in the path
where Alice was walking. She was quite frightened
this time, and said in an anxious tone, as she picked
him up, "I hope no bones are broken?"
"None to speak of," the Knight said, as if he
didn't mind breaking two or three of them. "The
great art of riding as I was sayin is--to keep your
balance. Like this, you know---"
He let go the bridle, and stretched out both his
arms to show Alice what he meant, and this time
he fell flat on his back, right under the horse's feet.
"Plenty of practice!" he went on repeating, all
the time that Alice was getting him on his feet
again. "Plenty of practice!"
"It's too ridiculous!" cried Alice, getting quite
out of patience. "You ought to have a wooden
horse on wheels, that you ought!"
"Does that kind go smoothly?" the Knight asked
in a tone of great interest, clasping his arms round
the horses' neck as he spoke, just in time to save
himself from tumbling off again.
"Much more smoothly than a live horse," Alice
said, with a little scream of laughter, in spite of all
she could do to prevent it.
"I'll get one," the Knight said thoughtfully to
himself. "One or two--several."
There was a short silence after this; then the
night went on again. "I'm a great hand at
inventing things. Now, I daresay you noticed, the last time
you picked me up, that I was looking thoughtful?"
"You i{were} a little grave," said Alice.
"Well, just then I was inventing a new way of
getting over a gate--would you like to hear it?"
"Very much indeed," Alice said politely.
"I'll tell you how I came to think of it," said the
Knight. "You see, I said to myself, "The only
diffculty is with the feet: the i{head} is high enough
already.' Now, first I put my head on the top of the
gate--then the head's high enough--then I stand
on my head--then the feet are high enough, you
see--then I'm over you see."
"Yes, I suppose you'd be over when that was
done," Alice said thoughtfully: "but don't you
think it would be rather hard?"
"I haven't tried it yet," the Knight said, gravely,
"so I can't tell for certain--but I'm afraid it i{would}
be a little hard."
He looked so vexed at the idea, that Alice
changed the subject hastily. "What a curious
helmet you've got!" she said cheerfully. "Is that your
invention too?"
The Knight looked down proudly at his helmet
which hung from the saddle. "Yes," he said, "but
I've invented a better one than that--like a sugar
loaf. When I used to wear it, if I fell off the horse,
it always touched the ground directly. So I had
i{very} little way to fall, you see--but there i{was} the
danger of falling i{into} it, to be sure. That happened
to me once--and the worst of it was, before I could
get out again, the other White Knight came and
put it on. He thought it was his own helmet."
The Knight looked so solemn about it that Alice
did not dare to laugh. "I'm afraid you must have
hurt him," she said in a trembling voice, "being on
the top of his head."
"I had to kick him, of course," the Knight said
very seriously. "And then he took the helmet off
again--but it took hours and hours to get me out.
I was as fast as--as lightning, you know."
"But that's a different kind of fastness," Alice
objected.
The Knight shook his head. "It was all kinds of
fastness with me, I can assure you!" he said. He
raised his hands in some excitement as he said this,
and instantly rolled out of the saddle, and fell
headlong into a deep ditch.
Alice ran to the side of the ditch to look for him.
She was rather startled by the fall, as for some time
he had kept on very well, and she was afraid that he
really i{was} hurt this time. However, though she
could see nothing but the soles of his feet, she was
he was talking on in his
usual tone. "All kinds of fastness," he repeated:
"but it was careless of him to put another man's
helmet on--with the man in it, too."
"How i{can} you go on talking so quietly, head
downwards?" Alice asked, as she dragged him out
by the feet, and laid him in a heap on the bank.
The Knight looked surprised at the question.
"What does it matter where my body happens to
be?" he said. "My mind goes on working all the
same. In fact, the more head-downwards I am, the
more I keep inventing new things."
"Now the cleverest thing that I ever did," he went
on after a pause, "was inventing a new pudding
during the meat-course."
"In time to have it cooked for the next course?"
said Alice. "Well, that i{was} quick work, certainly."
"Well, not the i{next} course," the Knight said in a
slow thoughtful tone: "no, certainly not the next
i{course.}"
"Then it would have, to be the next day. I
suppose you wouldn't have two pudding-courses in one
dinner?"
"Well, not the i{next} day," the Knight repeated as
before: "not the next i{day.} In fact," he went on,
holding his head down, and his voice getting lower
and lower, "I don't believe that pudding ever i{was}
cooked! In fact, I don't believe that pudding ever
i{will} be cooked! And yet it was a very clever
pudding to invent."
"What did you mean it to be made of?" Alice
asked, hoping to cheer him up, for he seemed quite
low-spirited about it.
"It began with blotting-paper," the Knight
answered with a groan.
"That wouldn't be very nice, I'm afraid---"
"Not very nice i{alone,"} he interrupted, quite
eagerly: "but you've no idea what a difference it
makes, mixing it with other things--such as
gunpowder and sealing-wax. And here I must leave
you."
Alice could only look puzzled: she was thinking
of the pudding.
"You are sad," the Knight said in an anxious
tone: "let me sing you a song to comfort you."
"Is it very long?" Alice asked, for she had heard
a good deal of poetry that day.
"It's long," said the Knight, "but it's very, i{very}
beautiful. Everybody that hears me sing it--either
it brings the i{tears} into their eyes, or else---"
"Or else what?" said Alice, for the Knight had
made a sudden pause.
"Or else it doesn't, you know. The name of the
song is called i{'Haddocks' Eyes.'} "
"Oh, that's the name of the song, is it?" Alice
said, trying to feel interested.
"No, you don't understand," the Kinght said,
looking a little vexed. "That's what the name is
i{called.} The name really is i{'The Aged Aged Man.'}"
"Then I ought to have said, 'That's what the i{song}
is called'?" Alice corrected herself.
"No, you oughtn't: that's another thing. The
i{song} is called i{'Ways and Means':} but that's only
what it's i{called,} you know!"
"Well, what i{is} the song, then?" said Alice, who
was by this time completely bewildered.
"I was coming to that," the Knight said. "The
song really i{is} i{'A sitting on a Gate':} and the tune's
my own invention."
So saying, he stopped his horse and let the reins
fall on its neck: then, slowly beating time with one
hand, and with a faint smile lighting up his gentle,
foolish face, he began.
Of all the strange things that Alice saw in her
journey Through the Looking-glass, this was the
one that she always remembered most clearly.
Years afterwards she could bring the whole scene
back again, as if it had been only yesterday--the
mild blue eyes and kindly smile of the Knight--the
setting sun gleaming through his hair, and shining
on his armour in a blaze of light that quite dazzled
her--the horse quietly moving about, with the reins
hanging loose on his neck, cropping the grass at
her feet--and the black shadows of the forest
behind--all this she took in like a picture, as, with
one hand shading her eyes, she leant against a tree,
watching the strange pair, and listening, in a
halfdream, to the melancholy music of the song.
"But the tune i{isn't} his own invention," she said
to herself: "it's i{"I give thee all, I can no more.}'"
She stood and listened very attentively, but no tears
came into her eyes.
i{"I'll tell thee everything I can;}
i{There's little to relate.}
i{I saw 'n aged aged man,}
i{A-sitting on a gate.}
i{'Who are you, aged man?' I said.}
i{'And how is it you live?'}
i{And his answer trickled through my head}
i{Like water through a sieve.}
i{He said 'I look for butterflies}
i{That sleep among the wheat:}
i{I make them into mutton pies,}
i{And sell them in the street.}
i{I sell them unto men,' he said,}
i{'Who sail on stormy seas;}
i{And that's the way I get my bread--}
i{A trifle, if you please.'}
i{But I was thinking of a plan}
i{To dye one's whiskers green,}
i{And always use so large a fan}
i{That they could not be seen.}
i{So, having no reply to give}
i{To what the old man said,}
i{I cried 'Come, tell me how you live!'}
i{And thumped him on the head.}
i{His accents mild took up the tale:}
i{He said, 'I go my ways,}
i{And when I find a mountain-rill,}
i{I set it in a blaze;}
i{And thence they make a stuff they call}
i{Rowland's Macassar Oil--}
i{Yet twopence-halfpenny is all,}
i{They give me for my toil.'}
i{But I was thinking of a way}
i{To feed oneself on batter,}
i{And so go on from day to day}
i{Getting a little fatter.}
i{I shook him well from side to side,}
i{Until his face was blue:}
i{'Come, tell me how you live,' I cried,}
i{'And what it is you do.!'}
i{He said 'I hunt for haddock eyes}
i{Among the heather bright,}
i{And work them into waistcoat-buttons}
i{In the silent night.}
i{And these I do not sell for gold}
or i{coin of silvery shine,}
i{but for a copper halfpenny,}
i{And that will purchase nine.}
i{'I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,}
i{Or set limed twigs for crabs;}
i{I sometimes search the grassy knolls}
i{For wheels of hansom-cabs.}
i{And that's the way' (he gave a wink)}
i{By which I get my wealth--}
i{And very gladly will I drink}
i{Your Honour's noble health.'}
i{I heard him then, for I had just}
i{Completed my design}
i{To keep the Menai bridge from rust}
i{By boiling it in wine.}
i{I thanked him much for telling me}
i{The way he got his wealth,}
i{But chiefly for his wish that he}
i{Might drink my noble health.}
i{And now, if e'er by chance I put}
i{My fingers into glue,}
i{Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot}
i{Into a left-hand shoe,}
i{Or if I drop upon my toe}
i{A very heavy weight,}
i{I weep, for it reminds me so}
i{Of that old man I used to know--}
i{Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,}
i{Whose hair was whiter than the snow,}
i{Whose face was very like a crow,}
i{With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,}
i{Who seemed distracted with his woe,}
i{Who rocked his body to and fro,}
i{And muttered mumblingly and low,}
i{As if his mouth were full of dough,}
i{That summer evening long ago}
i{A sitting on a gate} "
As the Knight sang the last words of the ballad
he gathered up the reins, and turned his horse's
head along the road by which they had come.
"You've only a few yards to go," he said, "down
the hill and over that little brook and then you'll
be a Queen--but you'll stay and see me off first?"
he added as Alice turned away with an eager look.
"I shan't be long. You'll wait and wave your
handkerchief when I get to that turn in the road? I think
it'll encourage me, you see."
"Of course I'll wait," said Alice: "and thank you
very much for coming so far--and for the song--I
liked it very much."
"I hope so," the Knight said doubtfully: "but you
didn't cry so much as I expected."
So they shook hands, and then the Knight rode
slowly away into the forest. "It won"t take long to
see him i{off,} I expect," Alice said to herself, as she
stood watching him. "There he goes! Right on his
head as usual! However, he gets on again pretty
easily--that comes of having so many things hung
round the horse---" So she went on talking to
herself, as she watched the horse walking leisurely
along the road, and the Knight tumbling off, first
on one side and then on the other. After the fourth
or fifth tumble he reached the turn, and then she
waved her handkerchief to him, and waited till he
was out of sight.
"I hope it encouraged him," she said, as she
turned to run down the hill: "and now for the last
brook, and to be a Queen! How grand it sounds!"
A very few steps brought her to the edge of the
brook. "The Eighth Square at last!" she cried as
she bounded across and threw herself down to rest
on a lawn as soft as moss, with little flower-beds
dotted all about it here and there. "Oh, how glad I
am to get here! And what i{is} this on my head?" she
exclaimed in a tone of dismay, as she put her hands
up to something very heavy, that fitted tight round
her head.
"But how i{can} it have got there without my
knowing it?" she said to herself, as she lifted it off, and
set it on her lap to make out what it could possibly
be.
It was a golden crown.
