Alice in Wonderland Part 5

"It's all a whim of his," said the Gry-phon; "he hasn't got no grief, you know. Come on!"

[Ill.u.s.tration]

So they went up to the Mock Tur-tle, who looked at them with large eyes full of tears, but did not speak.

"This here young la-dy," said the Gry-phon, "she wants for to know a-bout your past life, she do."

"I'll tell it to her," said the Mock Tur-tle in a deep, sad tone: "sit down both of you and don't speak a word till I get through."

So they sat down, and no one spoke for some time.

"Once," said the Mock Tur-tle at last, with a deep sigh, "I was a re-al Tur-tle. When we were young we went to school in the sea. We were taught by an old Tur-tle--we used to call him Tor-toise--"

"Why did you call him Tor-toise, if he wasn't one?" Al-ice asked.

"He taught us, that's why," said the Mock Tur-tle: "you are quite dull not to know that!"

"Shame on you to ask such a sim-ple thing," add-ed the Gry-phon; then they both sat and looked at poor Al-ice, who felt as if she could sink into the earth.

At last the Gry-phon said to the Mock Tur-tle, "Drive on, old fellow! Don't be all day a-bout it!" and he went on in these words: "Yes, we went to school in the sea, though you mayn't think it's true--"

"I didn't say I did not!" said Al-ice.

"You did," said the Mock Tur-tle.

"Hold your tongue," add-ed the Gry-phon.

The Mock Tur-tle went on: "We were well taught--in fact we went to school each day--"

"I've been to a day school too," said Alice; "you needn't be so proud as all that."

"Were you taught wash-ing?" asked the Mock Tur-tle.

"Of course not," said Al-ice.

"Ah! then yours wasn't a good school," said the Mock Tur-tle. "Now at ours they had at the end of the bill, 'French, mu-sic, and wash-ing--ex-tra.'"

"You couldn't have need-ed it much in the sea," said Al-ice.

"I didn't learn it," said the Mock Tur-tle, with a sigh. "I just took the first course."

"What was that?" asked Al-ice.

"Reel-ing and Writh-ing, of course, at first," the Mock Tur-tle said. "An old eel used to come once a week. He taught us to drawl, to stretch and to faint in coils."

"What was that like?" Al-ice asked.

"Well, I can't show you, my-self," he said: "I'm too stiff. And the Gry-phon didn't learn it."

"How man-y hours a day did you do les-sons?" asked Al-ice.

"Ten hours the first day," said the Mock Tur-tle; "nine the next and so on."

"What a strange plan!" said Al-ice.

"That's why they're called les-sons," said the Gry-phon: "they les-sen from day to day."

This was such a new thing to Al-ice that she sat still a good while and didn't speak. "Then there would be a day when you would have no school," she said.

"Of course there would," said the Mock Tur-tle.

"What did you do then?" asked Al-ice.

"I'm tired of this," said the Gry-phon: "tell her now of the games we played."

CHAPTER X.

THE LOB-STER DANCE.

The Mock Tur-tle sighed, looked at Al-ice and tried to speak, but for a min-ute or two sobs choked his voice. "Same as if he had a bone in his throat," said the Gry-phon, and set to work to shake him and punch him in the back. At last the Mock Tur-tle found his voice and with tears run-ning down his cheeks, he went on: [Ill.u.s.tration]

"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-sh.o.r.e--"

"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 pa.s.sed 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: "'Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?

Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?'"

"Thank you, it's a 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"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: "'Tis the voice of the lob-ster; I heard him de-clare, 'You have baked me too brown, I must su-gar my hair.' As a duck with its eye-lids, so he with his nose Trims his belt and his but-tons, and turns out his toes."

"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 pa.s.sed 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: "I pa.s.sed by his gar-den and marked with one eye, How the owl and the oys-ter were shar-ing the pie."

"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.

CHAPTER XI.

WHO STOLE THE TARTS?

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 pa.s.s 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."