"You may not have lived much in the sea"—("I have-n't," said Al-ice) "so you can not know what a fine thing a Lob-ster Dance is!"
"No," said Al-ice. "What sort of a dance is it?"
"Why," said the Gry-phon, "you first form in a line on the sea-shore—"
"Two lines!" cried the Mock Tur-tle. "Seals, tur-tles, and so on; then when you've cleared all the small fish out of the way—"
"That takes some time," put in the Gry-phon.
"You move to the front twice—"
"Each with a lob-ster by his side!" cried the Gry-phon.
"Of course," the Mock Tur-tle said: "move to the front twice—"
"Change and come back in same way," said the Gry-phon.
"Then, you know," the Mock Tur-tle went on, "you throw the—"
"The lob-sters!" shout-ed the Gry-phon, with a bound in-to the air.
"As far out to sea as you can—"
"Swim out for them," screamed the Gry-phon.
"Turn heels o-ver head in the sea!" cried the Mock Tur-tle.
"Change a-gain!" yelled the Gry-phon at the top of his voice.
"Then back to land, and—that's all the first part," said the Mock Tur-tle.
Both the Gry-phon and the Mock Tur-tle had jumped a-bout like mad things all this time. Now they sat down quite sad and still, and looked at Al-ice.
"It must be a pret-ty dance," said Al-ice.
"Would you like to see some of it?" asked the Mock Tur-tle.
"Oh, yes," she said.
"Come, let's try the first part!" said the Mock Tur-tle to the Gry-phon. "We can do it without lob-sters, you know. Which shall sing?"
"Oh, you sing," said the Gry-phon. "I don't know the words."
So they danced round and round Al-ice, now and then tread-ing on her toes when they passed too close. They waved their fore paws to mark the time, while the Mock Tur-tle sang a queer kind of song, each verse of which end-ed with these words:
"Thank you, it's a fine dance to watch," said Al-ice, glad that it was o-ver at last.
"Now," said the Gry-phon, "tell us a-bout what you have seen and done in your life."
"I could tell you of the strange things I have seen to-day," said Al-ice, with some doubt as to their wish-ing to hear it.
"All right, go on," they both cried.
So Al-ice told them what she had been through that day, from the time when she first saw the White Rab-bit. They came up quite close to her, one on each side, and sat still till she got to the part where she tried to say, "You are old, Fath-er Wil-liam," and the words all came wrong. Then the Mock Tur-tle drew a long breath and said, "That's quite strange!"
"It's all as strange as it can be," said the Gry-phon.
"It all came wrong!" the Mock Tur-tle said, while he seemed to be in deep thought. "I should like to hear her try to say some-thing now. Tell her to be-gin." He looked at the Gry-phon as if he thought it had the right to make Al-ice do as it pleased.
"Stand up and say, 'Tis the voice of the Slug-gard,'" said the Gry-phon.
"How they do try to make one do things!" thought Al-ice. "I might just as well be at school at once." She stood up and tried to re-peat it, but her head was so full of the Lob-ster Dance, that she didn't know what she was say-ing, and the words all came ver-y queer, in-deed:
"That's not the way I used to say it when I was a child," said the Gry-phon.
"Well, I never heard it before," said the Mock Tur-tle, "but there's no sense in it at all."
Al-ice did not speak; she sat down with her face in her hands, and thought, "Will things nev-er be as they used to an-y more?"
"I should like you to tell what it means," said the Mock Tur-tle.
"She can't do that," said the Gry-phon. "Go on with the next verse."
"But his toes?" the Mock Tur-tle went on. "How could he turn them out with his nose, you know?"
"Go on with the next verse," the Gry-phon said once more; "it begins 'I passed by his gar-den.'"
Al-ice thought she must do as she was told, though she felt sure it would all come wrong, and she went on:
"What is the use of say-ing all that stuff!" the Mock Tur-tle broke in, "if you don't tell what it means as you go on? I tell you it is all non-sense."
"Yes, I think you might as well leave off," said the Gry-phon, and Al-ice was but too glad to do so.
"Shall we try the Lob-ster dance once more?" the Gry-phon went on, "or would you like the Mock Tur-tle to sing you a song?"
"Oh, a song please, if the Mock Tur-tle would be so kind," Al-ice said with so much zest that the Gry-phon threw back his head and said, "Hm! Well, each one to his own taste. Sing her 'Tur-tle Soup,' will you, old fel-low?"
The Mock Tur-tle heaved a deep sigh, and in a voice choked with sobs, be-gan his song, but just then the cry of "The tri-al is on!" was heard a long way off.
"Come on," cried the Gry-phon. He took her by the hand, ran off, and did not wait to hear the song.
"What trial is it?" Al-ice pant-ed as she ran, but the Gry-phon on-ly said, "Come on!" and still ran as fast as he could.
The King and Queen of Hearts were seat-ed on their throne when Al-ice and the Gry-phon came up, with a great crowd a-bout them. There were all sorts of small birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards. The Knave stood in front of them in chains, with a sol-dier on each side to guard him; and near the King was the White Rab-bit, with a trum-pet in one hand and a roll of pa-per in the other. In the mid-dle of the court was a ta-ble with a large dish of tarts on it. They looked so good that it made Al-ice feel as if she would like to eat some of them. "I wish they'd get the tri-al done," she thought, "and hand round the pies!" But there seemed no chance of this, so to pass the time a-way she looked round at the strange things a-bout her.
This was the first time Al-ice had been in a court of this kind, and she was quite pleased to find that she knew the names of most things she saw there. "That's the judge," she thought, "I know him by his great wig."
The judge, by the way, was the King, and as he wore his crown on top of his wig, he looked quite ill at ease.
"And that's the ju-ry box," thought Al-ice, "and those twelve things" (she had to say "things," you see, for some of them were beasts and some were birds), "I guess are the ju-rors." She said this last word two or three times as she was proud that she knew it; for she was right when she thought that few girls of her age would have known what it all meant.
The twelve ju-rors all wrote on slates.
"What can they have to write now?" Al-ice asked the Gry-phon, in a low tone. "The tri-al has not be-gun yet."
"They're put-ting down their names," the Gry-phon said, "for fear they should for-get them."
"Stu-pid things!" Al-ice said in a loud voice, but stopped at once, for the White Rab-bit cried out, "Si-lence in court!" and the King looked round to make out who spoke.
Al-ice could see quite well that the ju-rors all wrote down "stu-pid things!" on their slates, she could e-ven make out that one of them didn't know how to spell "stu-pid" and that he asked the one by his side to tell him, "A nice mud-dle their slates will be in by the time the tri-al's ended," thought Al-ice.
One of the ju-rors had a pen-cil that squeaked as he wrote. This, of course, Al-ice could not stand, so she went round near him, and soon found a chance to get it from him. This she did in such a way that the poor ju-ror (it was Bill, the Liz-ard) could not make out at all where it was, so he wrote with one fin-ger for the rest of the day. Of course, this was of no use, as it left no mark on the slate.
"Read the charge!" said the King.
On this the White Rab-bit blew three blasts on the trum-pet, and then from the pa-per in his hand read:
"The ju-ry will now take the case," said the King.
"Not yet, not yet!" the Rab-bit said in haste. "There is a great deal else to come first."
"Call the first wit-ness," said the King, and the White Rab-bit blew three blasts on the trum-pet, and called out, "First wit-ness."
The first to come was the Hat-ter. He came in with a tea cup in one hand and a piece of bread and but-ter in the oth-er.
"I beg par-don, your ma-jes-ty," he said, "but I had to bring these in, as I was not quite through with my tea when I was sent for."
"You ought to have been through," said the King. "When did you be-gin?"
The Hat-ter looked at the March Hare, who had just come in-to court, arm in arm with the Dor-mouse. "Fourth of March, I think it was," he said.
"Fifth," said the March Hare.
"Sixth," add-ed the Dor-mouse.
"Write that down," said the King to the ju-ry, and they wrote down all three dates on their slates, and then added them up and changed the sum to shil-lings and pence.
"Take off your hat," the King said to the Hat-ter.
"It isn't mine," said the Hat-ter.
"Stole it!" cried the King, as he turned to the jury, who at once wrote it down.
"I keep them to sell," the Hat-ter added. "I've none of my own. I'm a hat-ter."
Here the Queen put on her eye-glass-es and stared hard at the Hat-ter, who turned pale with fright.
"Tell what you know of this case," said the King; "and don't be nerv-ous, or I'll have your head off on the spot."
This did not seem to calm him at all, he shift-ed from one foot to the other and looked at the Queen, and in his fright he bit a large piece out of his tea-cup in place of the bread and but-ter.
Just then Al-ice felt a strange thrill, the cause of which she could not make out till she saw she had be-gun to grow a-gain.
"I wish you wouldn't squeeze so," said the Dor-mouse. "I haven't room to breathe."
"I can't help it," said Al-ice; "I'm grow-ing."
"You've no right to grow here," said the Dor-mouse.
"Don't talk such non-sense," said Al-ice. "You know you grow too."
"Yes, but not so fast as to squeeze the breath out of those who sit by me." He got up and crossed to the oth-er side of the court.
All this time the Queen had not left off star-ing at the Hat-ter, and just as the Dor-mouse crossed the court, she said to one of the men, "Bring me the list of those who sang in the last con-cert," on which the poor Hat-ter trembled so, that he shook both his shoes off.
"Tell what you know of this case," the King called out a-gain, "or I'll have your head off, if you do shake."
"I'm a poor man, your ma-jes-ty," the Hat-ter be-gan in a weak voice, "and I hadn't but just be-gun my tea, not more than a week or so, and what with the bread and but-ter so thin—and the twink-ling of the tea—"
"The twink-ling of what?" asked the King.
"It be-gan with the tea," the Hat-ter said.
"Of course twink-ling be-gins with a T!" said the King. "Do you take me for a dunce? Go on!"
"I'm a poor man," the Hat-ter went on, "and most things twink-led af-ter that—but the March Hare said—"
"I didn't," said the March Hare in great haste.
"You did," said the Hat-ter.
"I de-ny it," said the March Hare.
"He de-nies it," said the King: "leave out that part."
"Well, I'm sure the Dor-mouse said—" the Hat-ter went on, with a look at the Dor-mouse to see if he would de-ny it too, but he was fast a-sleep.
"Then I cut some more bread and—"
"But what did the Dor-mouse say?" asked one of the ju-ry.
"That I can't tell," said the Hat-ter.
"You must tell or I'll have your head off," said the King.
The wretch-ed Hat-ter dropped his cup and bread, and went down on one knee.
"I'm a poor man," he be-gan.
"You're a poor speak-er," said the King.
Here one of the guin-ea pigs cheered, and one of the men seized him, thrust him in-to a bag which tied up with strings, and then sat up-on it.
"If that's all you know, you may stand down," the King said.
"I'm as low as I can get now," said the Hat-ter; "I'm on the floor as it is."
"Then you may sit down," the King said.
"I'd like to get through with my tea first," said the Hat-ter with a look at the Queen who still read the list in her hand.
"You may go," said the King, and the Hat-ter left the court in such haste that he did not e-ven wait to put his shoes on.
"And just take his head off out-side," the Queen add-ed to one of the sol-diers, but the Hat-ter was out of sight be-fore the man could get to the door.
"Call the next wit-ness," said the King.
The next to come was the Duch-ess' cook, and Al-ice guessed who it was by the way the peo-ple near the door sneezed all at once.
"Tell what you know of this case," said the King.
"Shan't," said the cook.
The King looked at the White Rab-bit, who said in a low voice, "Your ma-jes-ty must make her tell."
"Well, if I must, I must," said the King with a sad look. He fold-ed his arms and frowned at the cook till his eyes were al-most out of sight, then asked in a stern voice, "What are tarts made of?"
"Pep-per, most-ly," said the cook.
"Sug-ar," said a weak voice near her.
"Catch that Dor-mouse," the Queen shrieked out. "Off with his head! Turn him out of court! Pinch him! Off with his head!"
The whole court ran here and there, get-ting the Dor-mouse turned out, and by the time this was done, the cook had gone.
"That's all right," said the King, as if he were glad to be rid of her. "Call the next," and he add-ed in a low tone to the Queen, "Now, my dear, you must take the next wit-ness in hand; it quite makes my head ache!"
Al-ice watched the White Rab-bit as he looked o-ver the list. She thought to her-self, "I want to see what the next witness will be like, for they haven't found out much yet."
Think, if you can, how she felt when the White Rab-bit read out, at the top of his shrill lit-tle voice, the name "Al-ice!"
"Here!" cried Al-ice, but she quite for-got how large she had grown in the last few min-utes, and jumped up in such haste that the edge of her skirt tipped the ju-ry box and turned them all out on the heads of the crowd be-low; and there they lay sprawl-ing a-bout, which made her think of a globe of gold-fish which she had up-set the week be-fore.
"Oh, I beg your par-don!" she said, and picked them up and put them backed in the ju-ry box as fast as she could.
"The tri-al can not go on," said the King in a grave voice, "till all the men are back in place—all," he said with great force and looked hard at Al-ice.
She looked at the ju-ry box and saw that in her haste she had put the Liz-ard in head first and the poor thing was wav-ing its tail in the air, but could not move. She soon got it out and put it right; "not that it mat-ters much," she thought; "I should think it would be quite as much use in the tri-al one way up as the oth-er."
As soon as their slates and pen-cils had been hand-ed back to them, the ju-ry set to work to write out an ac-count of their fall, all but the Liz-ard, who seem-ed too weak to write, but sat and gazed up in-to the roof of the court.
"What do you know of this case?" the King asked Al-ice.
"Not one thing," said Al-ice.
"Not one thing, at all?" asked the King.
"Not one thing, at all," said Al-ice.
"Write that down," the King said to the ju-ry.
The King sat for some time and wrote in his note-book, then he called out, "Si-lence!" and read from his book, "Rule For-ty-two. Each one more than a mile high to leave the court."
All looked at Al-ice.
"I'm not a mile high," said Al-ice.
"You are," said the King.
"Not far from two miles high," add-ed the Queen.
"Well, I shan't go," said Al-ice, "for I know that's a new rule you have just made."
"It's the first rule in the book," said the King.
"Then it ought to be Rule One," said Al-ice.
The King turned pale and shut his note-book at once.
"The ju-ry can now take the case," he said in a weak voice.
"There's more to come yet, please your ma-jes-ty," said the White Rab-bit, as he jumped up; "this thing has just been picked up."
"What's in it?" asked the Queen.
"I haven't read it yet," said the White Rab-bit, "but it seems to be a note from the Knave of Hearts to some one."
"Whose name is on it?" said one of the ju-rors.
"There's no name on it," said the White Rab-bit; he looked at it with more care as he spoke, and add-ed, "it isn't a note at all; it's a set of rhymes."
"Please your ma-jes-ty," said the Knave, "I didn't write it, and they can't prove that I did; there's no name signed at the end."
"If you didn't sign it," said the King, "that makes your case worse. You must have meant some harm or you'd have signed your name like an hon-est man."
All clapped their hands at this as it was the first smart thing the King had said that day.
"That proves his guilt," said the Queen.
"It does not prove a thing," said Al-ice, "Why you don't so much as know what the rhymes are."
"Read them," said the King.
"Where shall I be-gin, your ma-jes-ty?" the White Rab-bit asked.
"Why at the first verse, of course," the King said look-ing quite grave, "and go on till you come to the end; then stop."
The White Rab-bit read:
"That's the best thing we've heard yet," said the King, rub-bing his hands as if much pleased; "so now let the ju-ry—"
"If one of you can tell what it means," said Al-ice (she had grown so large by this time that she had no fear of the King) "I should be glad to hear it. I don't think there's a grain of sense in it."
The ju-ry all wrote down on their slates, "She doesn't think there's a grain of sense in it." But no one tried to tell what it meant.
"If there's no sense in it," said the King, "that saves a world of work, you know, as we needn't try to find it. And yet I don't know," he went on, as he spread out the rhymes on his knee, and looked at them with one eye: "I seem to find some sense in them—'said I could not swim'—you can't swim, can you?" he added, turn-ing to the Knave.
The Knave shook his head with a sigh. "Do I look like it?" he said. (Which it was plain he did not, as he was made of card board.)
"All right, so far," said the King, and he went on: "'We know it to be true'—that's the ju-ry, of course—'I gave her one, they gave him two'—that must be what he did with the tarts, you know—"
"But it goes on, 'they all came back from him to you,'" said Al-ice.
"Why, there they are," said the King, point-ing to the tarts. "Isn't that as clear as can be? Then it goes on, 'before she had this fit'—you don't have fits, my dear, I think?" he said to the Queen.
"No! no!" said the Queen in a great rage, throw-ing an ink-stand at the Liz-ard as she spoke.
"Then the words don't fit you," he said, and looked round the court with a smile. But no one spoke. "It's a pun," he added in a fierce tone, then all the court laughed.
"Let the ju-ry now bring in their verdict," the King said.
"No! no!" said the Queen. "Sen-tence first—then the ver-dict."
"Such stuff!" said Al-ice out loud. "Of course the ju-ry must make—"
"Hold your tongue!" screamed the Queen.
"I won't!" said Al-ice.
"Off with her head!" shout-ed the Queen at the top of her voice. No one moved.
"Who cares for you?" said Al-ice. (She had grown to her full size by this time.) "You are noth-ing but a pack of cards!"
At this the whole pack rose up in the air and flew down up-on her; she gave a lit-tle scream and tried to beat them off—and found her-self ly-ing on the bank with her head in the lap of her sis-ter, who was brush-ing a-way some dead leaves that had fluttered down from the trees on to her face.
"Wake up, Al-ice dear," said her sis-ter; "why what a long sleep you have had!"
"Oh, I've had such a strange dream!" said Al-ice, and then she told her sis-ter as well as she could all these strange things that you have just read a-bout; and when she came to the end of it, her sis-ter kissed her and said: "It was a strange dream, dear, I'm sure; but run now in to your tea; it's get-ting late."
So Al-ice got up and ran off, think-ing while she ran, as well she might, what a won-der-ful dream it had been.
14 Titles. Handsome Illuminated Cloth Binding.
A series of Classics, selected specially for young people's reading, and told in simple language for youngest readers. Printed from large type, with many illustrations.
Price 60 Cents per Volume.
AESOP'S FABLES.
Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By Mary Godolphin. With 41 illustrations. Illuminated cloth.
ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND.
Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By Mrs. J.C. Gorham. With many illustrations. Illuminated cloth.
ANDERSEN'S FAIRY TALES.
(Selections.) Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By Harriet T. Comstock. With many illustrations. Illuminated cloth.
BIBLE HEROES.
Told in words of one syllable for young people. By Harriet T. Comstock. With many illustrations. Illuminated cloth.
BLACK BEAUTY.
Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By Mrs. J.C. Gorham. With many illustrations. Illuminated cloth.
GRIMM'S FAIRY TALES.
(Selections.) Retold in words of one syllable. By Jean S. Rémy. With many illustrations. Illuminated cloth.
GULLIVER'S TRAVELS
Into several remote regions of the work. Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By J.C.G. With 32 illustrations. Illuminated cloth.
LIFE OF CHRIST.
Told in words of one syllable for young people. By Jean S. Rémy. With many illustrations. Illuminated cloth.
LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS.
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PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By Samuel Phillips Day. With 33 illustrations. Illuminated cloth.
REYNARD THE FOX:
The Crafty Courtier. Retold in words of one syllable for young people. By Samuel Phillips Day. With 23 illustrations. Illuminated cloth.
ROBINSON CRUSOE.
His life and surprising adventures retold in words of one syllable for young people. By Mary A. Schwacofer. With 32 illustrations. Illuminated cloth.
SANFORD AND MERTON.
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SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON.
Retold in words of one syllable for young people. Adapted from the original. With 31 illustrations. Illuminated cloth.
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