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“Very much indeed,” said Alice.
“Come, let’s try the first figure!” said the Mock Turtle to the
Gryphon. “We can do 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, wo’n’t you, will you, wo’n’t you, will you join the
dance?
Will you, wo’n’t you, will you, wo’n’t you, wo’n’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, wo’n’t you, will you, wo’n’t you, will you join the
dance?
Will you, wo’n’t you, will you, wo’n’t you, wo’n’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, ifherself 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.