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Patten, William / The Junior Classics — Volume 6 Old-Fashioned Tales
And the Gryphon never learned it."

"Hadn't time," said the Gryphon: "I went to the Classical master,
though. He was an old crab, _he_ was."

"I never went to him," the Mock Turtle said with a sigh. "He taught
Laughing and Grief, they used to say."

"So he did, so he did," said the Gryphon, sighing in his turn; and
both creatures hid their faces in their paws.

"And how many hours a day did you do lessons?" said Alice, in a hurry
to change the subject.

"Ten hours the first day," said the Mock Turtle: "nine the next, and
so on."

"What a curious plan!" exclaimed Alice.

"That's the reason they're called lessons," the Gryphon remarked:
"because they lessen from day to day."

This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought it over a little
before she made her next remark. "Then the eleventh day must have been
a holiday?"

"Of course it was," said the Mock Turtle.

"And how did you manage on the twelfth?" Alice went on eagerly.

"That's enough about lessons," the Gryphon interrupted in a very
decided tone. "Tell her something about the games now."




THE LOBSTER-QUADRILLE

By Lewis Carroll


The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and drew the back of one flapper across
his eyes. He looked at Alice and tried to speak, but, for a minute or
two, sobs choked his voice. "Same as if he had a bone in his throat,"
said the Gryphon; and it set to work shaking him and punching him in
the back. At last the Mock Turtle recovered his voice, and, with tears
running down his cheeks, he went on again:

"You may not have lived much under the sea--" ("I haven't," said
Alice)--"and perhaps you were never even introduced to a lobster--"
(Alice began to say, "I once tasted--" but checked herself hastily,
and said, "No, never") "--so you can have no idea what a delightful
thing a Lobster-Quadrille is!"

"No, indeed," said Alice. "What sort of a dance is it?"

"Why," said the Gryphon, "you first form into a line along the
sea-shore--"

"Two lines!" cried the Mock Turtle. "Seals, turtles, salmon, and so
on: then, when you've cleared all the jelly-fish out of the way--"

"_That_ generally takes some time," interrupted the Gryphon.

"--you advance twice--"

"Each with a lobster as a partner!" cried the Gryphon.

"Of course," the Mock Turtle said: "advance twice, set to partners--"

"--change lobsters, and retire in same order," continued the Gryphon.

"Then, you know," the Mock Turtle went on, "you throw the--"

"The lobsters!" shouted the Gryphon, with a bound into the air.

"--as far out to sea as you can--"

"Swim after them!" screamed the Gryphon.

"Turn a somersault in the sea!" cried the Mock Turtle, capering wildly
about.

"Change lobsters again!" yelled the Gryphon at the top of its voice.

"Back to land again, and--that's all the first figure," said the Mock
Turtle, suddenly dropping his voice; and the two creatures, who had
been jumping about like mad things all this time, sat down again very
sadly and quietly and looked at Alice.

"It must be a very pretty dance," said Alice timidly.

"Would you like to see a little of it?" said the Mock Turtle.

"Very much indeed," said Alice.

"Come, let's try the first figure!" said the Mock Turtle to the Gryphon.
"We can do it without lobsters, you know. Which shall sing?"

"Oh, _you_ sing," said the Gryphon. "I've forgotten the words."

So they began solemnly dancing round and round Alice, every now and
then treading on her toes when they passed too close, and waving their
fore-paws to mark the time, while the Mock Turtle sang this, very
slowly and sadly:

"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail,
"There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my
tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle--will you come and join the
dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the
dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the
dance?

"You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out
to sea!"
But the snail replied, "Too far, too far!" and gave a look
askance--

Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join
the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join
the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join
the dance.

"What matters it how far we go?" his scaly friend replied.
"There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The further off from England the nearer is to France--
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the
dance.
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the
dance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the
dance?"

"Thank you, it's a very interesting dance to watch," said Alice,
feeling very glad that it was over at last: "and I do so like that
curious song about the whiting!"

"Oh, as to the whiting," said the Mock Turtle, "they--you've seen
them, of course?"

"Yes," said Alice, "I've often seen them at dinn--" she checked
herself hastily.

"I don't know where Dinn may be," said the Mock Turtle; "but, if
you've seen them so often, of course you know what they're like?"

"I believe so," Alice replied thoughtfully. "They have their tails in
their mouths--and they're all over crumbs."

"You're wrong about the crumbs," said the Mock Turtle: "crumbs would
all wash off in the sea. But they _have_ their tails in their mouths;
and the reason is--" here the Mock Turtle yawned and shut his eyes.

"Tell her about the reason and all that," he said to the Gryphon.

"The reason is," said the Gryphon, "that they _would_ go with the
lobsters to the dance. So they got thrown out to sea. So they had to
fall a long way. So they got their tails fast in their mouths. So they
couldn't get them out again. That's all."

"Thank you," said Alice, "it's very interesting. I never knew so much
about a whiting before."

"I can tell you more than that, if you like," said the Gryphon. "Do
you know why it's called a whiting?"

"I never thought about it," said Alice. "Why?"

"_It does the boots and shoes_," the Gryphon replied very solemnly.

Alice was thoroughly puzzled. "Does the boots and shoes!" she repeated
in a wondering tone.

"Why, what are _your_ shoes done with?" said the Gryphon. "I mean,
what makes them so shiny?"

Alice looked down at them, and considered a little before she gave her
answer. "They're done with blacking, I believe."

"Boots and shoes under the sea," the Gryphon went on in a deep voice,
"are done with whiting. Now you know."

"And what are they made of?" Alice asked in a tone of great curiosity.

"Soles and eels, of course," the Gryphon replied, rather impatiently:
"any shrimp could have told you that."

"If I'd been the whiting," said Alice, whose thoughts were still
running on the song, "I'd have said to the porpoise, 'Keep back,
please! We don't want _you_ with us!'"

"They were obliged to have him with them," the Mock Turtle said. "No
wise fish would go anywhere without a porpoise."

"Wouldn't it really?" said Alice, in a tone of great surprise.

"Of course not," said the Mock Turtle. "Why, if a fish came to _me_
and told me he was going a journey, I should say, 'With what
porpoise?'"

"Don't you mean 'purpose'?" said Alice.

"I mean what I say," the Mock Turtle replied, in an offended tone.
And the Gryphon added, "Come, let's hear some of _your_ adventures."

"I could tell you my adventures--beginning from this morning," said
Alice a little timidly; "but it's no use going back to yesterday,
because I was a different person then."

"Explain all that," said the Mock Turtle.

"No, no! The adventures first," said the Gryphon in an impatient tone:
"explanations take such a dreadful time."

So Alice began telling them her adventures from the time when she
first saw the White Rabbit. She was a little nervous about it, just at
first, the two creatures got so close to her, one on each side, and
opened their eyes and mouths so _very_ wide; but she gained
courage as she went on. Her listeners were perfectly quiet till she
got to the part about her repeating, "_You are old, Father William_,"
to the Caterpillar, and the words all coming different, and then the
Mock Turtle drew a long breath, and said, "That's very curious!"

"It's all about as curious as it can be," said the Gryphon.

"It all came different!" the Mock Turtle repeated thoughtfully. "I
should like to hear her try and repeat something now. Tell her to
begin." He looked at the Gryphon as if he thought it had some kind of
authority over Alice.

"Stand up and repeat, '_Tis the voice of the sluggard_,'" said
the Gryphon.

"How the creatures order one about, and make one repeat lessons!"
thought Alice. "I might just as well be at school at once." However,
she got up, and began to repeat it, but her head was so full of the
Lobster-Quadrille, that she hardly knew what she was saying; and the
words came very queer indeed:

"'Tis the voice of the Lobster: I heard him declare
'You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair.'
As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose
Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.
When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
And will talk in contemptuous tones of the shark;
But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound."

"That's different from what _I_ used to say when I was a child,"
said the Gryphon.

"Well, _I_ never heard it before," said the Mock Turtle, "but it
sounds uncommon nonsense."

Alice said nothing: she had sat down with her face in her hands,
wondering if anything would _ever_ happen in a natural way again.

"I should like to have it explained," said the Mock Turtle.

"She can't explain it," said the Gryphon hastily, "Go on with the next
verse."

"But about his toes?" the Mock Turtle persisted. "How _could_ he turn
them out with his nose, you know?"

"It's the first position in dancing," Alice said; but she was
dreadfully puzzled by the whole thing, and longed to change the
subject.

"Go on with the next verse," the Gryphon repeated: "it begins, '_I
passed by his garden_!'"

Alice did not dare to disobey, though she felt sure it would all come
wrong, and she went on in a trembling voice:--

"I passed by his garden and marked, with one eye,
How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie:
The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat,
While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat.
When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon,
Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon:
While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl,
And concluded the banquet by--"

"What _is_ the use of repeating all that stuff?" the Mock Turtle
interrupted, "if you don't explain it as you go on? It's by far the
most confusing thing _I_ ever heard!"

"Yes, I think you'd better leave off," said the Gryphon, and Alice was
only too glad to do so.

"Shall we try another figure of the Lobster Quadrille?" the Gryphon
went on. "Or would you like the Mock Turtle to sing you another song?"

"Oh, a song, please, if the Mock Turtle would be so kind," Alice
replied, so eagerly that the Gryphon said, in a rather offended tone,
"Hm! No accounting for tastes! Sing her '_Turtle Soup_,' will you, old
fellow?"

The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and began, in a voice choked with sobs,
to sing this:--

"Beautiful Soup, so rich and green,
Waiting in a hot tureen!
Who for such dainties would not stoop?
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beautiful Soup!

"Beautiful Soup! Who cares for fish,
Game, or any other dish?
Who would not give all else for two
pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?
Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beauti--FUL SOUP!"

"Chorus again!" cried the Gryphon, and the Mock Turtle had just begun
to repeat it, when a cry of "The trial's beginning!" was heard in the
distance.

"Come on!" cried the Gryphon, and, taking Alice by the hand, it
hurried off without waiting for the end of the song.

"What trial is it?" Alice panted as she ran; but the Gryphon only
answered, "Come on!" and ran the faster, while more and more faintly
came, carried on the breeze that followed them, the melancholy words:

"Soo--oop of the e--e--evening,
Beautiful, beautiful Soup!"




WHO STOLE THE TARTS?

By Lewis Carroll


The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when they
arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them--all sorts of little
birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards: the Knave was
standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on each side to guard
him; and near the King was the White Rabbit, with a trumpet in one
hand, and a scroll of parchment in the other.

In the very middle of the court was a table with a large dish of tarts
upon it: they looked so good, that it made Alice quite hungry to look
at them--"I wish they'd get the trial done," she thought, "and hand
round the refreshments!" But there seemed to be no chance of this; so
she began looking at everything about her to pass away the time.

Alice had never been in a court of justice before, but she had read
about them in books, and she was quite pleased to find that she knew
the name of nearly everything there.

"That's the judge", she said to herself, "because of his great wig."

The judge, by the way, was the King; and, as he wore his crown over
the wig, he did not look at all comfortable, and it was certainly not
becoming.

"And that's the jury-box," thought Alice; "and those twelve creatures"
(she was obliged to say "creatures," you see, because some of them
were animals, and some were birds), "I suppose they are the jurors."
She said this last word two or three times over to herself, being
rather proud of it; for she thought, and rightly too, that very few
little girls of her age knew the meaning of it at all. However,
"jurymen" would have done just as well.

The twelve jurors were all writing very busily on slates.

"What are they doing?" Alice whispered to the Gryphon. "They can't
have anything to put down yet, before the trial's begun."

"They're putting down their names," the Gryphon whispered in reply,
"for fear they should forget them before the end of the trial."

"Stupid things!" Alice began in a loud indignant voice; but she
stopped herself hastily, for the White Rabbit cried out, "Silence in
the court!" and the King put on his spectacles and looked anxiously
round, to make out who was talking.

Alice could see, as well as if she were looking over their shoulders,
that all the jurors were writing down "Stupid things!" on their
slates, and she could even make out that one of them didn't know how
to spell "stupid," and that he had to ask his neighbor to tell him.

"A nice muddle their slates'll be in, before the trial's over!"
thought Alice.

One of the jurors had a pencil that squeaked. This, of course, Alice
could _not_ stand, and she went round the court and got behind him,
and very soon found an opportunity of taking it away. She did it so
quickly that the poor little juror (it was Bill, the Lizard) could not
make out at all what had become of it; so, after hunting all about for
it, he was obliged to write with one finger for the rest of the day;
and this was of very little use as it left no mark on the slate.

"Herald, read the accusation!" said the King.

On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and then
unrolled the parchment-scroll, and read as follows:

"The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts,
All on a summer day:
The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts
And took them quite away!"

"Consider your verdict," the King said to the jury.

"Not yet, not yet!" the Rabbit hastily interrupted. "There's a great
deal to come before that!"

"Call the first witness," said the King; and the White Rabbit blew
three blasts on the trumpet, and called out "First witness!"

The first witness was the Hatter. He came in with a teacup in one hand
and a piece of bread-and-butter in the other.

"I beg pardon, your Majesty," he began, "for bringing these in; but I
hadn't quite finished my tea when I was sent for."

"You ought to have finished," said the King. "When did you begin?"

The Hatter looked at the March Hare, who had followed him into the
court, arm-in-arm with the Dormouse, "Fourteenth of March, I _think_
it was," he said.

"Fifteenth," said the March Hare.

"Sixteenth," said the Dormouse.

"Write that down," the King said to the jury; and the jury eagerly
wrote down all three dates on their slates, and then added them up,
and reduced the answer to shillings and pence.

"Take off your hat," the King said to the Hatter.

"It isn't mine," said the Hatter.

"_Stolen_!" the King exclaimed, turning to the jury, who instantly
made a memorandum of the fact.

"I keep them to sell," the Hatter added as an explanation. "I've none
of my own. I'm a hatter."

Here the Queen put on her spectacles, and began staring hard at the
Hatter, who turned pale and fidgeted.

"Give your evidence," said the King; "and don't be nervous, or I'll
have you executed on the spot."

This did not seem to encourage the witness at all: he kept shifting
from one foot to the other, looking uneasily at the Queen, and in his
confusion he bit a large piece out of his teacup instead of the
bread-and-butter.

Just at this moment Alice felt a very curious sensation, which puzzled
her a good deal until she made out what it was: she was beginning to
grow larger again, and she thought at first she would get up and leave
the court; but on second thoughts she decided to remain where she was
as long as there was room for her.

"I wish you wouldn't squeeze so," said the Dormouse, who was sitting
next to her. "I can hardly breathe."

"I can't help it," said Alice very meekly: "I'm growing."

"You've no right to grow _here_," said the Dormouse.

"Don't talk nonsense," said Alice more boldly: "you know you're
growing too."

"Yes, but _I_ grow at a reasonable pace," said the Dormouse: "not in
that ridiculous fashion." And he got up very sulkily and crossed over
to the other side of the court.

All this time the Queen had never left off staring at the Hatter, and,
just as the Dormouse crossed the court, she said, to one of the
officers of the court, "Bring me the list of the singers in the last
concert!" on which the wretched Hatter trembled so that he shook off
both his shoes.

"Give your evidence," the King repeated angrily, "or I'll have you
executed, whether you're nervous or not."

"I'm a poor man, your Majesty," the Hatter began, in a trembling
voice, "and I hadn't begun my tea--not above a week or so--and what
with the bread-and-butter getting so thin--and the twinkling of the
tea--"

"The twinkling of _what_?" said the King.

"It _began_ with the tea," the Hatter replied.

"Of course twinkling _begins_ with a T!" said the King sharply.
"Do you take me for a dunce? Go on!"

"I'm a poor man," the Hatter went on, "and most things twinkled after
that--only the March Hare said--"

"I didn't!" the March Hare interrupted in a great hurry.

"You did!" said the Hatter.

"I deny it!" said the March Hare.

"He denies it," said the King: "leave out that part."

"Well, at any rate, the Dormouse said--" the Hatter went on, looking
anxiously round to see if he would deny it too; but the Dormouse
denied nothing, being fast asleep.

"After that," continued the Hatter, "I cut some more bread and
butter--"

"But what did the Dormouse say?" one of the jury asked.

"That I can't remember," said the Hatter.

"You _must_ remember," remarked the King, "or I'll have you executed."

The miserable Hatter dropped his teacup and bread-and-butter, and went
down on one knee.



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