They were indeed a queer-looking party that assembled on the
bank—the birds with draggled feathers, the animals with their fur
clinging close to them, and all dripping wet, cross, and
uncomfortable.
The first question of course was, how to get dry again: they had
a consultation about this, and after a few minutes it seemed quite
natural to Alice to find herself talking familiarly with them, as
if she had known them all her life. Indeed, she had quite a long
argument with the Lory, who at last turned sulky, and would only
say, “I’m older than you, and must know better.” And this Alice
would not allow, without knowing how old it was, and, as the Lory
positively refused to tell its age, there was no more to be
said.
At last the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of authority among
them, called out, “Sit down, all of you, and listen to me! I’ll
soon make you dry enough!” They all sat down at once, in a large
ring, with the Mouse in the middle. Alice kept her eyes anxiously
fixed on it, for she felt sure she would catch a bad cold if she
did not get dry very soon.
“Ahem!” said the Mouse with an important air. “Are you all
ready? This is the driest thing I know. Silence all round, if you
please! ‘William the Conqueror, whose cause was favoured by the
pope, was soon submitted to by the English, who wanted leaders, and
had been of late much accustomed to usurpation and conquest. Edwin
and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria——’”
“Ugh!” said the Lory, with a shiver.
“I beg your pardon!” said the Mouse, frowning, but very
politely. “Did you speak?”
“Not I!” said the Lory, hastily.
“I thought you did,” said the Mouse. “I proceed. ‘Edwin and
Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria, declared for him; and
even Stigand, the patriotic archbishop of Canterbury, found it
advisable——’”
“Found what?” said the Duck.
“Found it,” the Mouse replied rather crossly: “of course you
know what ‘it’ means.”
“I know what ‘it’ means well enough, when I find a thing,” saidknow what ‘it’ means.”
“I know what ‘it’ means well enough, when I find a thing,” said
the Duck: “it’s generally a frog, or a worm. The question is, what
did the archbishop find?”
The Mouse did not notice this question, but hurriedly went on,
“‘—found it advisable to go with Edgar Atheling to meet William and
offer him the crown. William's conduct at first was moderate. But
the insolence of his Normans——’ How are you getting on now, my
dear?” it continued, turning to Alice as it spoke.
“As wet as ever,” said Alice in a melancholy tone: “it doesn’t
seem to dry me at all.”
“In that case,” said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its feet, “I
move that the meeting adjourn, for the immediate adoption of more
energetic remedies——”
“Speak English!” said the Eaglet. “I don't know the meaning of
half those long words, and, what’s more, I don’t believe you do
either!” And the Eaglet bent down its head to hide a smile: some of
the other birds tittered audibly.
“What I was going to say,” said the Dodo in an offended tone,
“was, that the best thing to get us dry would be a
Caucus-race.”
“What is a Caucus-race?” said Alice; not that she much wanted to
know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that somebody ought
to speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything.
“Why,” said the Dodo, “the best way to explain it is to do it.”
(And, as you might like to try the thing yourself, some winter-day,
I will tell you how the Dodo managed it.)
First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle, (“the
exact shape doesn’t matter,” it said,) and then all the party were
placed along the course, here and there. There was no “One, two,
three, and away!”, but they began running when they liked, and left
off when they liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race
was over. However, when they had been running half an hour or so,
and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly called out “The race is
over!”, and they all crowded round it, panting, and asking, “But
who has won?”over!”, and they all crowded round it, panting, and asking, “But
who has won?”
This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of
thought, and it sat for a long time with one finger pressed upon
its forehead (the position in which you usually see Shakespeare, in
the pictures of him), while the rest waited in silence. At last the
Dodo said, “Everybody has won, and all must have prizes.”
“But who is to give the prizes?” quite a chorus of voices
asked.
“Why, she, of course,” said the Dodo, pointing to Alice with one
finger; and the whole party at once crowded round her, calling out,
in a confused way, “Prizes! Prizes!”
Alice had no idea what to do, and in despair she put her hand in
her pocket, and pulled out a box of comfits (luckily the salt water
had not got into it), and handed them round as prizes. There was
exactly one a-piece, all round.
“But she must have a prize herself, you know,” said the
Mouse.
“Of course,” the Dodo replied very gravely. “What else have you
got in your pocket?” he went on, turning to Alice.
“Only a thimble,” said Alice sadly.
“Hand it over here,” said the Dodo.
Then they all crowded round her once more, while the Dodo
solemnly presented the thimble, saying “We beg your acceptance of
this elegant thimble”; and, when it had finished this short speech,
they all cheered.
Alice thought the whole thing very absurd, but they all looked
so grave that she did not dare to laugh; and, as she could not
think of anything to say, she simply bowed, and took the thimble,
looking as solemn as she could.
The next thing was to eat the comfits: this caused some noise
and confusion, as the large birds complained that they could not
taste theirs, and the small ones choked and had to be patted on the
back. However, it was over at last, and they sat down again in a
ring, and begged the Mouse to tell them something more.
“You promised to tell me your history, you know,” said Alice,
“and why it is you hate—C and D,” she added in a whisper, half
afraid that it would be offended again.