Chapter 8
"It's my own Invention"
AFTER a while the noise seemed gradually to die away, till all was dead
silence, and Alice lifted up her head in some alarm. There was no one to
be seen, and her first thought was that she must have been dreaming
about the Lion and the Unicorn and 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 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 their heads, 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 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 do come, I
don't choose to have them running all about."
"You see," he went on after a pause, "it's as well to be provided for
everything. That's the reason the horse has 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 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
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
falling off."
"I should like to hear it very much."
"First you take an upright stick," said the Knight. "Then you make
your hair creep up it, Like a fruit-tree. Now the reason hair falls off
is because it hangs down -- things never fall upwards, you know. It's my
own invention. You may try it if you like."
It didn't sound a comfortable plan, Alice thought, and for a few
minutes she walked on in silence, puzzling over the idea, and every now
and then stopping to help the poor Knight, who certainly was not a good
rider.
Whenever the horse stopped (which it did very often), he fell off in
front; and whenever it went on again (which it generally did rather
suddenly), he fell off behind. Otherwise he kept on pretty well, except
that he had a habit of now and then falling off sideways; and as he
generally did this on the side on which Alice was walking, she soon
found that it was the best plan not to walk quite close to the horse.
"I'm afraid you've not had much practice in riding," she ventured to
say, as she was helping him up from his fifth tumble.
The Knight looked very much surprised, and a little offended at the
remark. "What makes you say that?" he asked, as he scrambled back into
the saddle, keeping hold of Alice's hair with one hand, to save himself
from falling over on the other side "Because people don't fall off quite
so often, when they've had much practice."
"I've had plenty of practice," the Knight said very gravely: "plenty
of practice!"
Alice could think of nothing better to say than "Indeed?" but she
said it as heartily as she could. They went on a little way in silence
after this, the Knight with his eyes shut, muttering to himself, and
Alice watching anxiously for the next tumble.
"The great art of riding," the Knight suddenly began in a loud voice,
waving his right arm as he spoke "is to keep -- " Here the sentence
ended as suddenly as it had begun, as the Knight fell heavily on the top
of his head exactly in the path where Alice was walking. She was quite
frightened this time, and 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 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 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 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 very little way to fall,
you see -- but there was the danger of falling into it, to be sure. That
happened to me once -- and the worst of it was, before I could get out
again, the other White Knight came and put it on. He thought it was his
own helmet."

The Knight looked so solemn about it that Alice did not dare to
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 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 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 was quick work, certainly." "Well, not the next course," the Knight
said in a slow thoughtful tone: "no, certainly not the next course."
"Then it would have, to be the next day. I suppose you wouldn't have
two pudding-courses in one dinner?"
"Well, not the next day," the Knight repeated as before: "not the
next day. In fact," he went on, holding his head down, and his voice
getting lower and lower, "I don't believe that pudding ever was cooked!
In fact, I don't believe that pudding ever will be cooked! And yet it
was a very clever pudding to invent."
"What did you mean it to be made of?" Alice asked, hoping to cheer
him up, for 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 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, very beautiful.
Everybody that hears me sing it -- either it brings the 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
'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 called. The name really is 'The Aged Aged
Man.'"
"Then I ought to have said, 'That's what the song is called'?" Alice
corrected herself.
"No, you oughtn't: that's another thing. The song is called 'Ways and
Means': but that's only what it's called, you know!"
"Well, what is the song, then?" said Alice, who was by this time
completely bewildered.
"I was coming to that," the Knight said. "The song really is 'A
sitting on a Gate': and 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
half-dream, to the melancholy music of the song.
"But the tune isn't his own invention," she said to herself: "it's "I
give thee all, I can no more.'" She stood and listened very attentively,
but no tears came into her eyes.
"I'll tell thee everything I can;
There's little to relate.
I saw 'n aged aged man,
A-sitting on a gate.
'Who are you, aged man?' I said.
'And how is it you live?'
And his answer trickled through my head
Like water through a sieve.
He said 'I look for butterflies
That sleep among the wheat:
I make them into mutton pies,
And sell them in the street.
I sell them unto men,' he said,
'Who sail on stormy seas;
And that's the way I get my bread --
A trifle, if you please.'
But I was thinking of a plan
To dye one's whiskers green,
And always use so large a fan
That they could not be seen.
So, having no reply to give
To what the old man said,
I cried 'Come, tell me how you live!'
And thumped him on the head.
His accents mild took up the tale:
He said, 'I go my ways,
And when I find a mountain-rill,
I set it in a blaze;
And thence they make a stuff they call
Rowland's Macassar Oil --
Yet twopence-halfpenny is all,
They give me for my toil.'
But I was thinking of a way
To feed oneself on batter,
And so go on from day to day
Getting a little fatter.
I shook him well from side to side,
Until his face was blue:
'Come, tell me how you live,' I cried,
'And what it is you do.!'
He said 'I hunt for haddock eyes
Among the heather bright,
And work them into waistcoat-buttons
In the silent night.
And these I do not sell for gold
or coin of silvery shine,
but for a copper halfpenny,
And that will purchase nine.
'I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
Or set limed twigs for crabs;
I sometimes search the grassy knolls
For wheels of hansom-cabs.
And that's the way' (he gave a wink)
By which I get my wealth --
And very gladly will I drink
Your Honour's noble health.'
I heard him then, for I had just
Completed my design
To keep the Menai bridge from rust
By boiling it in wine.
I thanked him much for telling me
The way he got his wealth,
But chiefly for his wish that he
Might drink my noble health.
And now, if e'er by chance I put
My fingers into glue,
Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
Into a left-hand shoe,
Or if I drop upon my toe
A very heavy weight,
I weep,for it reminds me so
Of that old man I used to know --
Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
Whose face was very like a crow,
With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,
Who seemed distracted with his woe,
Who rocked his body to and fro,
And muttered mumblingly and low,
As if his mouth were full of dough,
That summer evening long ago
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 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 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 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.
Chapter 9
"Queen Alice"
"WELL, this is grand!" said Alice. "I never expected I should be a Queen
so soon -- and I'll tell you what it is, your Majesty," she went on in a
severe tone (she was always rather fond of scolding hersef), "it'll
never do to loll about on the grass like that! Queens have to be
dignified, you know"
So she got up and walked about -- rather stiffly just at first, as
she was afraid that the crown might come off: but she comforted herself
with the thought that there was nobody to see her, "and if I really am a
Queen," she said as she sat down again, "I shall be able to manage it
quite well in time."
Everything was happening so oddly that she didn't feel a bit
surprised at finding the Red Queen and the White Queen sitting close to
her, one on each side: she would have liked very much to ask them how
they came there, but she feared it would not be quite civil. However,
there would be no harm, she thought, in asking if the game was over.
"Please, would you tell me -- -" she began, looking timidly at the Red
Queen.
"Speak when you're spoken to!" the Red Queen sharply interrupted her.
"But if everybody obeyed that rule," said Alice, who was always ready
for a little argument, "and if you only spoke when you were spoken to,
and the other person always waited for you to begin, you see nobody
would ever say anything, so that -- -"
"Ridiculous!" cried the Queen. "Why, don't you see, child -- -" here
she broke off with a frown, and after thinking for a minute, suddenly
changed the subject of the conversation. "What do you mean by 'If you
really are a Queen'? What right have you to call yourself so? You can't
be a Queen, you know, till you've passed the proper examination. And the
sooner we begin it, the better."
"I only said 'if'!" poor Alice pleaded in a piteous tone.
The two Queens looked at each other, and the Red Queen remarked, with
a little shudder, "She says she only said 'if' -- -"
"But she said a great deal more than that!" the White Queen moaned,
wringing her hands. "Oh, ever so much more than that!"
"So you did, you know," the Red Queen said to Alice. "Always speak
the truth -- think before you speak -- and write it down afterwards."
"I'm sure I didn't mean -- -" Alice was beginning, but the Red Queen
interrupted.
"That's just what I complain of! You should have meant! What do you
suppose is the use of a child without any meaning? Even a joke should
have some meaning -- and a chiId's more important than a joke, I hope.
You couldn't deny that, even if you tried with both hands."
"I don't deny things with my hands," Alice objected.
"Nobody said you did," said the Red Queen, "I said you couldn't if
you tried."
"She's in that state of mind," said the White Queen, "that she wants
to deny something -- only she doesn't know what to deny!"
"A nasty, vicious temper," the Red Queen remarked; and then there was
an uncomfortable silence for a minute or two.
The Red Queen broke the silence by saying to the White Queen, "I
invite you to Alice's dinner-party this afternoon."
The White Queen smiled feebly, and said, "And I invite you."

"I didn't know I was to have a party at all," said Alice; "but if
there is to be one, I think I ought to invite the guests."
"We gave you the opportunity of doing it," the Red Queen remarked:
"but I daresay you've not had many lessons in manners yet?"
"Manners are not taught in lessons," said Alice.
"Lessons teach you to do sums, and things of that sort."
"Can you do Addition?" the White Queen asked.
"What's one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one
and one and one?"
"I don't know," said Alice. "I lost count."
"She can't do Addition," the Red Queen interrupted. "Can you do
Subtraction? Take nine from eight."
"Nine from eight I can't, you know," Alice replied very readily: "but
-- -"
"She can't do Subtraction," said the White Queen. "Can you do
Division? Divide a loaf by a knife -- what's the answer to that?"
"I suppose -- -" Alice was beginning, but the Red Queen answered for
her. "Bread-and-butter, of course. Try another Subtraction sum. Take a
bone from a dog. What remains?"
Alice considered. "The bone wouldn't remain, of course, if I took it
-- and the dog wouldn't remain; it would come to bite me -- and I'm sure
I shouldn't remain!"
"Then you think nothing would remain?" said the Red Queen.
"I think that's the answer."
"Wrong, as usual," said the Red Queen; "the dog's temper would
remain."
"But I don't see how -- -"
"Why, look here!" the Red Queen cried. "The dog would lose its
temper, wouldn't it?"
"Perhaps it would," Alice replied cautiously.
"Then if the dog went away, its temper would remain!" the Queen
exclaimed.
Alice said, as gravely as she could, "They might go different ways."
But she couldn't help thinking to herself, "What dreadful nonsense we
are talking!"
"She can't do sums a bit!" the Queens said together, with great
emphasis.
"Can you do sums?" Alice said, turning suddenly on the White Queen,
for she didn't like being found fault with so much.
The Queen gasped and shut her eyes. "I can do Addition," she said,
"if you give me time -- but I can't do Subtraction under any
circumstances! "
"Of course you know your A B C?" said the Red Queen.
"To be sure I do," said Alice.
"So do I," the White Queen whispered. "We'll often say it over
together, dear. And I'll tell you a secret -- I can read words of one
letter! Isn't that grand? However, don't be discouraged. You'll come to
it in time."
Here the Red Queen began again. "Can you answer useful questions?"
she said. "How is bread made?"
"I know that!" Alice cried eagerly. "You take some flour -- -"
"Where do you pick the flower?" the White Queen asked. "In a garden,
or in the hedges?"
"Well, it isn't picked at all," Alice explained: "it's ground- -- "
"How many acres of ground?" said the White Queen. "You mustn't leave
out so many things."
"Fan her head!" the Red Queen anxiously interupted. "She'll be
feverish after so much thinking."
So they set to work and fanned her with bunches of leaves, till she
had to beg them to leave off, it blew her hair about so.
"She's all right again now," said the Red Queen. "Do you know
Languages? What's the French for fiddle-de-dee ?"
"Fiddle-de-dee's not English," Alice replied gravely.
"Who said it was?" said the Red Queen.
Alice thought she saw a way out of the difficulty this time. "If
you'll tell me what language "fiddle-de-dee' is, I'll tell you the
French for it!" she exclaimed triumphantly.
But the Red Queen drew herself up rather stiffly, and said, "Queens
never make bargains."
"I wish Queens never asked questions," Alice thought to herself.
"Don't let us quarrel," the White Queen said in an anxious tone.
"What is the cause of lightning ?"
"The cause of lightning," Alice said very decidedly, for she felt
quite sure about this, "is the thunder -- no, no!" she hastily corrected
herself.
"I meant the other way."
"It's too late to correct it," said the Red Queen: "when you've once
said a thing, that fixes it, and you must take the consequences."
"Which reminds me -- " the White Queen said, looking down and
nervously clasping and unclasping'her hands, "we had such a thunderstorm
last Tuesday -- I mean one of the last set of Tuesdays, you know."
"In our country," Alice remarked, "there's only " one day at a time."
The Red Queen said. "That's a poor thin way of doing things. Now
here, we mostly have days and nights two or three at a time, and
sometimes in the winter we take as many as five'nights together -- for
warmth, you know."
"Are five nights warmer than one night, then?" Alice ventured to ask.
"Five times as warm, of course."
"But they should be five times as cold, by the same rule -- -"
"just so!" cried the Red Queen. "Five times as warm, and five times
as cold -- just as I'm five times as rich as you are, and five times as
clever!"
Alice sighed and gave it up. "It's exactly like a riddle with no
answer!" she thought.
"Humpty Dumpty saw it too," the White Queen went on in a low voice,
more as if she were talking to herself. "He came to the door with a
corkscrew in his hand -- -"
"What for?" said the Red Queen.
"He said he would come in," the White Queen went on, "because he was
looking for a hippopotamus. Now, as it happened, there wasn't such a
thing in the house, that morning."
"Is there generally ?" Alice asked in an astonished tone.
"Well, only on Thursdays," said the Queen.
"I know what he came for," said Alice: "he wanted to punish the fish,
because -- -"
Here the White Queen began again. "It was such a thunderstorm, you
can't think!" ("She never could, you know," said the Red Queen.) "And
part of the roof came off, and ever so much thunder got in -- and it
went rolling round the room in great lumps -- and knocking over the
tables and things -- till I was so frightened, I couldn't remember my
own name!"
Alice thought to herself, "I never should try to remember my name in
the middle of an accident! Where would be the use of it?" But she did
not say this aloud, for fear of hurting the poor Queen's feelings.
"Your Majesty must excuse her," the Red Queen said to Alice, taking
one of the White Queen's hands in her own, and gently stroking it: "she
means well, but she can't help saying foolish things, as a general
rule."
The White Queen looked timidly at Alice, who felt she ought to say
something kind, but really couldn't think of anything.
"She never was really well brought up," the Red Queen went on: "but
it's amazing how good-tempered she is! Pat her on the head, and see how
pleased she'll be!" But this was more than Alice had courage to do.
"A little kindness -- and putting her hair in papers -- would do
wonders with her -- -"
The White Queen gave a deep sigh, and laid her head on Alice's
shoulder. "I am so sleepy!" she moaned.
"She"s tired, poor thing!" said the Red Queen, "Smooth her hair --
lend her your nightcap -- and sing her a soothing lullaby."
"I haven't got a nightcap with me," said Alice, as she tried to obey
the first direction: "and I don't know any soothing lullabies."

"I must do it myself, then," said the Red Queen, and she began:
"Hush-a-by lady, in Alice's lap!
Till the feast's ready, we've time for a nap:
Till the feast's over, we'll go to the ball --
Red Queen, and White Queen, and Alice, and all!.
"And now you know the words," she added, as she put her head down on
Alice's other shoulder, "just sing it through to me. I'm getting sleepy
too." In another moment both Queens were fast asleep, and snoring loud.
"What am I to do?" exclaimed Alice, looking about in great
perplexity, as first one round head, and then the other, rolled down
from her shoulder, and lay like a heavy lump in her lap. "I don't think
it ever happened before, that anyone had to take "care of two Queens
asleep at once! No, not in all the History of England -- it couldn't,
you know, because there never was more than one Queen at a time. Do wake
up, you heavy things!" she went on in an impatient tone; but there was
no answer but a gentle snoring.
The snoring got more distinct every minute, and sounded more like a
tune: at last she could even make out words, and she listened so eagerly
that when the two great heads suddenly vanished from her lap, she hardly
missed them.
She was standing before an arched doorway, over which were the words
QUEEN ALICE in large letters, and on each side of it there was a
bell-handle ; one marked "Visitors' Bell," and the other "Servants'
Bell."
"I'll wait till the song's over," thought Alice, "and then I'll ring
the -- the -- which bell must ring?" she went on, very much puzzled by
the names. "I'm not a visitor, and I'm not a servant. There ought to be
one marked "Queen,' you know -- -"
Just then the door opened a little way, and a creature with a long
beak put its head out for a moment and said, "No admittance till the
week after next!" and shut the door again with a bang.

Alice knocked and rang in vain for a long time, but at last a very
old Frog, who was sitting under a tree, got up, and hobbled slowly
towards her : he was dressed in bright yellow, and had enormous boots
on.
"What is it now?" the Frog said in a deep hoarse whisper.
Alice turned round, ready to find fault with anybody. "Where's the
servant whose business it is to answer the door?" she began angrily.
"Which door?" said the Frog.
Alice almost stamped with irritation at the slow drawl in which he
spoke. "This door, of course!
The Frog looked at the door with his large dull eyes for a minute :
then he went nearer and rubbed it with his thumb, as if he were trying
whether the paint would come off; then he looked at Alice. "To answer
the door?" he said. "What's it been asking of?" He was so hoarse that
Alice could scarcely hear him.
"I don't know what you mean," she said.
"I speaks English, doesn't I?" the Frog went on.
"Or are you deaf? What did it ask you?"
"Nothing!" Alice said impatiently. "I've been knocking at it!"
"Shouldn't do that -- shouldn't do that -- " the Frog muttered. "Wexes
it, you know." Then he went up and gave the door a kick with one off his
great feet. "You let it alone," he panted out, as he hobbled back to his
tree, "and it'll let you alone, you know."
At this moment the door was flung open, and a shrill voice was heard
singing:
To the Looking-glass world it was Alice that said,
"I've a sceptre in hand, I've a crown on my head;
Let the Looking-glass creatures, whatever they be,
Come and dine with the Red Queen, the White
Queen, and me.
And hundreds of voices joined in the chorus:
"Then fill up the glasses as quick as you can,
And sprinkle the table with buttons and bran:
Put cats in the coffee, and mice in the tea --
And welcome Queen Alice with thirty-times-three!
Then followed a confused noise of cheering, and Alice thought to
herself, "Thirty times three makes ninety. I wonder if anyone's
counting?" In a minute there was silence again, and the same shrill
voice, sang another verse:
"`O Looking-glass creatures,' quoth Alice, `draw near!
'Tis an honour to see me, a favour to hear:
'Tis a privilege high to have dinner and tea
Along with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!'"
Then came the chorus again:
"Then fill up the glasses with treacle and ink,
Or anything else that is pleasant to drink;
Mix sand with the cider, and wool with the wine --
And welcome Queen Alice with ninety-times-nine"
"Ninety-times-nine!" Alice repeated in despair. "Oh, that'll never be
done! I'd better go in at once -- " and in she went, and there was a
dead silence the moment she appeared.
Alice glanced nervously along the table, as she walked up the large
hall, and noticed that there were about fifty guests, of all kinds: some
were animals, some birds, and there were even a few flowers among them.
"I'm glad they've come without waiting to be asked," she thought: "I
should never have known who were the right people to invite!"
There were three chairs at the head of the table; the Red and White
Queens had taken two of them, but the middle one was empty. Alice sat
down, rather uncomfortable at the silence, and longing for someone to
speak.
At last the Red Queen began. "You've missed the soup and fish," she
said. "Put on the joint!" And the waiters set a leg of mutton before
Alice, who looked at it rather anxiously, as she had never had to carve
one before.
"You look a little shy; let me introduce you to that leg of mutton,"
said the Red Queen. "Alice -- Mutton; Mutton -- Alice." The leg of
mutton got up in the dish and made a little bow to Alice; and she
returned the bow, not knowing whether to be frightened or amused.
"May I give you a slice?" she said, taking up the knife and fork, and
looking from one Queen to the other.
"Certainly not," the Red Queen said, very decidedly; "it isn't
etiquette to cut anyone you've been introduced to. Remove the joint!"
And the waiters carried it off, and brought a large plum-pudding in its
place.

"I won't be introduced to the pudding, please," Alice said rather
hastily, "or we shall get no dinner at all. May I give you some?"
But the Red Queen looked sulky, and growled, "Pudding -- Alice; Alice
-- Pudding. Remove the pudding!" and the waiters took it away before
Alice could return its bow.
However, she didn't see why the Red Queen should be the only one to
give orders, so, as an experiment, she called out, "Waiter! Bring back
the pudding!" and there it was again in a moment, like a conjuring
trick. It was so large that she couldn't help feeling a little shy with
it, as she had been with the mutton; however, she conquered her shyness
by a great effort, and handed a slice to the Red Queen.
"What impertinence!" said the Pudding. " I wonder how you'd like it,
if I were to cut a slice out of you, you creature!"
Alice could only look at it and gasp.
"Make a remark," said the Red Queen: "it's ridiculous to leave all
the conversation to the pudding!"
"Do you know, I've had such a quantity of poetry repeated to me
to-day," Alice began, a little frightened at finding that, the moment
she opened her lips, there was dead silence, and all eyes were fixed
upon her; "and it's a very curious thing, I think -- every poem was
about fishes in some way. Do you know why they're so fond of fishes, all
about here?"
She spoke to the Red Queen, whose answer was a little wide of the
mark. "As to fishes," she said, very slowly and solemnly, putting her
mouth close to Alice's ear, "her White Majesty knows a lovely riddle --
all in poetry -- all about fishes. Shall she repeat it?"
"Her Red Majesty's very kind to mention it," the White Queen murmured
into Alice's other ear, in a voice like the cooing of a pigeon. "It
would be such a treat! May I?"
"Please do," Alice said very politely. The White Queen laughed with
delight, and stroked Alice's cheek. Then she began:
"`First the fish must be caught.'
That is easy: a baby, I think, could have caught it.
`Next, the fish must be bought.'
That is easy: a penny, I think, would have bought it.
`Now cook me the fish!'
That is easy, and will not take more than a minute.
`Let it lie in a dish!'
That is easy, because it already is in it.
`Bring it here! Let me sup!'
It is easy to set such a dish on the table.
`Take the dish-cover up!'
Ah that is so hard that I fear I'm unable!
For it holds it like glue --
Holds the lid to the dish, while it lies in the middle:
Which is easiest to do,
un-dish-cover the fish, or dish-cover the riddle?"
"Take a minute to think about it, then and guess," said the Red
Queen. "Meanwhile, we'll drink your health -- Queen Alice's health!" she
screamed at the top of her voice, and all the guests began drinking it
directly, and very queerly they managed it: some of them put their
glasses upon their heads like extinguishers, and drank all that trickled
down their faces -- others upset the decanters, and drank the wine as it
ran off the edges of the table -- and three of them (who looked like
kangaroos) scrambled into the dish of roast mutton, and began to lap up
the gravy, "just like pigs in a trough!" thought Alice.
"You ought to return thanks in a neat speech," the Red Queen said,
frowning at Alice as she spoke. "We must support you, you know," the
White Queen whispered, as Alice got up to do it, very obediently, but a
little frightened.
"Thank you very much," she whispered in reply, "but I can do quite
well without."

"That wouldn't be at all the thing," the Red Queen said very
decidedly: so Alice tried to submit to it with a good grace.
("And they did push so!" she said afterwards, when she was telling
her sister the history of the feast. "You would have thought they wanted
to squeeze me flat!")
In fact it was rather difficult for her to keep in her place while
she made her speech: the two Queens pushed her so, one on each side,
that they nearly lifted her up into the air: "I rise to return thanks --
" Alice began: and she really did rise as she spoke, several inches; but
she got hold of the edge of the table, and managed to pull herself down
again.
"Take care of yourself!" screamed the White Queen, seizing Alice's
hair with both her hands. "Something's going to happen!"
And then (as Alice afterwards described it) all sorts of things
happened in a moment. The candles grew up to the ceiling, looking
something like a bed of bushes with fireworks at the top. As to the
bottles, they each took a pair of plates, which they hastily fitted on
as wings, and so, with forks for legs, went fluttering about: "and very
like birds they look," Alice thought to herself, as well as she could in
the dreadful confusion that was beginning. At this moment she heard a
hoarse laugh at her side, and turned to see what was the matter with the
White Queen; but, instead of the Queen, there was the leg of mutton
sitting in the chair. "Here I am!" cried a voice from the soup-tureen,
and Alice turned again, just in time to see the Queen's broad
good-natured face grinning at her for a moment over the edge of the
tureen, before she disappeared into the soup.
There was not a moment to be lost. Already several of the guests were
lying down in the dishes, and the soup-ladle was walking up the table to
Alice, and signing to her to get out of its way.
"I can't stand this any longer!" she cried, as she seized the
table-cloth with both hands: one good pull, and plates, dishes, guests,
and candles came crashing down together in a heap on the floor.

"And as for you," she went on, turning fiercely upon the Red Queen,
whom she considered as the cause of all the mischief -- but the Queen
was no longer at her side -- she had suddenly dwindled down to the size
of a little doll, and was now on the table, merrily running round and
round after her own shawl, which was trailing behind her.
At any other time, Alice would have felt surprised at this, but she
was far too much excited to be surprised at anything now. "As for you,"
she repeated, catching hold of the little creature in the very act of
jumping over a bottle which had just lighted upon the table, "I'll shake
you into a kitten, that I will!"
Chapter 10
"Shaking"
She took her off the table as she spoke, and shook her backwards and
forwards with all her might.
The Red Queen made no resistance whatever; only her face grew very
small, and her eyes got large and green: and still, as Alice went on
shaking her, she kept on growing shorter -- and fatter -- and softer --
and rounder -- and -- -
Chapter 11
"Waking"
-- and it really was a kitten, after all.

Chapter 12
"Which Dreamed It?"
YOUR Red Majesty shouldn't purr so loud," Alice said, rubbing her eyes,
and addressing the kitten respectfully, yet with some severity. "You
woke me out of -- oh! such a nice dream! And you've been along with me,
Kitty -- all through the Looking-glass world. Did you know it, dear?"
It is a very inconvenient habit of kittens (Alice had once made the
remark) that, whatever you say to them, they always purr. "If they would
only purr for "yes,' and mew for "no,' or any rule of that sort," she
had said, "so that one could keep up a conversation! But how can you
talk with a person if they always say the same thing?"
On this occasion the kitten only purred: and it was impossible to
guess whether it meant "yes' or 'no.'
So Alice hunted among the chessmen on the table till she had found
the Red Queen: then she went down on her knees on the hearthrug, and put
the Kitten and the Queen to look at each other. "Now, Kitty!" she cried,
clapping her hands triumphantly. "You've got to confess that that was
what you turned into!"
("But it wouldn't look at it," she said, when she was explaining the
thing afterwards to her sister : "it turned away its head, and pretended
not to see it: but it looked a little ashamed of itself, so I think it
must have been the Red Queen.")
"Sit up a little more stiffly, dear!" Alice cried with a merry laugh.
"And curtsey while you're thinking what to -- what to purr. It saves
time, remember!" And she caught it up in her arms, and gave it one
little kiss "just in honour of its having been a Red Queen, you know!"
"Snowdrop, my pet!" she went on, looking over her shoulder at the
White Kitten, which was still patiently undergoing its toilet, "when
will Dinah have finished with your White Majesty, I wonder? That must be
the reason you were so untidy in my dream. -- Dinah! Do you know that
you're scrubbing a White Queen? Really, it's most disrespectful you, and
I'm quite surprised at you!"

"And what did Dinah turn to, I wonder?" she prattled on, as she
settled comfortably down, with one elbow on the rug, and her chin in her
hand, to watch the kittens. "Tell me, Dinah, did you turn to Humpty
Dumpty? I think you did -- however, you'd better not mention it to your
friends just yet, for I"m not sure.
"By the way, Kitty, if only you'd been really with me in my dream,
there was one thing you would have enjoyed -- I had such a quantity of
poetry said to me, all about fishes! To-morrow morning you shall have a
real treat. All the time you're eating your breakfast, I'll repeat "The
Walrus and the Carpenter" to you; and then you can make believe it's
oysters, my dear!
"Now, Kitty, let's consider who it was that dreamed it all. This is a
serious question, my dear, and you should not go on licking your paw
like that -- as if Dinah hadn't washed you this morning!
You see, Kitty, it must have been either me or the Red King. He was
part of my dream, of course -- but then I was part of his dream, too!
Was it the Red King, Kitty? You were his wife, my dear, so you ought to
know -- oh, Kitty, do help to settle it! I'm sure your paw can wait!"
But the provoking kitten only began on the other paw, and pretended it
hadn't heard the question.
Which do you think it was?