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 can’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—]


“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 a song?”