“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 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 noseAs a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose
Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.
[later editions continued as follows:
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 ca’n’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 was
dreadfully puzzled by the whole thing, and longed to change the
subject.
“Go on with the next verse,” the Gryphon repeated impatiently:
“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:
[later editions continued as follows:
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?”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!”