“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 a 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.