“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 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