-
Do you know, I always thought Unicorns were fabulous monsters, too! I
never saw one alive before!
- Well, now that we HAVE seen each other, - said the Unicorn, - if
you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you. Is that a bargain?
- Yes, if you like, - said Alice.
- Come, fetch out the plum-cake, old man! - the Unicorn went on,
turning from her to the King. - None of your brown bread for me!
- Certainly - certainly! - the King muttered, and beckoned to Haigha.
- Open the bag! - he whispered. - Quick! Not that one -that's full of hay!
Haigha took a large cake out of the bag, and gave it to Alice to hold,
while he got out a dish and carving-knife. How they all came out of it
Alice couldn't guess. It was just like a conjuring-trick, she thought.
The Lion had joined them while this was going on: he looked very
tired and sleepy, and his eyes were half shut. - What's this! - he said,
blinking lazily at Alice, and speaking in a deep hollow tone that sounded
like the tolling of a great bell.
- Ah, what IS it, now? - the Unicorn cried eagerly. - You'll never
guess! _I_ couldn't.
The Lion looked at Alice wearily. - Are you animal - vegetable or
mineral? - he said, yawning at every other word.
- It's a fabulous monster! - the Unicorn cried out, before Alice
could reply.
- Then hand round the plum-cake, Monster, - the Lion said, lying down
and putting his chin on this paws. - And sit down, both of you, - (to the
King and the Unicorn): - fair play with the cake, you know!
The King was evidently very uncomfortable at laving to sit down
between the two great creatures; but there was no other place for him.
- What a fight we might have for the crown, NOW! - the Unicorn said,
looking slyly up at the crown, which the poor King was nearly shaking off
his head, he trembled so much.
- I should win easy, - said the Lion.
- I'm not so sure of that, - said the Unicorn.
- Why, I beat you all round the town, you chicken! - the Lion replied
angrily, half getting up as he spoke.
Here the King interrupted, to prevent the quarrel going on: he was
very nervous, and his voice quite quivered. - All round the town? - he
said. - That's a good long way. Did you go by the old bridge, or the
market-place? You get the best view by the old bridge.
- I'm sure I don't know, - the Lion growled out as he lay down again.
- There was too much dust to see anything. What a time the Monster is,
cutting up that cake!
Alice had seated herself on the bank of a little brook, with the
great dish on her knees, and was sawing away diligently with the knife. -
It's very provoking! - she said, in reply to the Lion (she was getting
quite used to being called - the Monster'). - I've cut several slices
already, but they always join on again!
- You don't know how to manage Looking-glass cakes, - the Unicorn
remarked. - Hand it round first, and cut it afterwards.
This sounded nonsense, but Alice very obediently got up, and carried
the dish round, and the cake divided itself into three pieces as she did
so. - NOW cut it up, - said the Lion, as she returned to her place with
the empty dish.
- I say, this isn't fair! - cried the Unicorn, as Alice sat with the
knife in her hand, very much puzzled how to begin. - The Monster has given
the Lion twice as much as me!
- She's kept none for herself, anyhow, - said the Lion. - Do you like
plum-cake, Monster?
But before Alice could answer him, the drums began.
Where the noise came from, she couldn't make out: the air seemed full
of it, and it rang through and through her head till she felt quite
deafened. She started to her feet and sprang across the little brook in
her terror,

* * * * * * *
* * * * * *
* * * * * * *

and had just time to see the Lion and the Unicorn rise to their feet,
with angry looks at being interrupted in their feast, before she dropped
to her knees, and put her hands over her hears, vainly trying to shut out
the dreadful uproar.
- If THAT doesn't "drum them out of town," - she thought to herself,
'nothing ever will!



CHAPTER VIII

- It's my own Invention

After a while the noise seemed gradually to die away, till all was
dead silence, and Alice lifted up her head in some alarm. There was no one
to be seen, and her first thought was that she must have been dreaming
about the Lion and the Unicorn and those still lying at her feet, on which
she had tried to cut the plumcake, - So I wasn't dreaming, after all, -
she said to herself, - unless - unless we're all part of the same dream.
Only I do hope it's MY dream, and not the Red King's! I don't like
belonging to another person's dream, - she went on in a rather complaining
tone: - I've a great mind to go and wake him, and see what happens!
At this moment her thoughts were interrupted by a loud shouting of -
Ahoy! Ahoy! Check! and a Knight dressed in crimson armour, came galloping
down upon her, brandishing a great club. Just as he reached her, the horse
stopped suddenly: - You're my prisoner! - the Knight cried, as he tumbled
off his horse.
Startled as she was, Alice was more frightened for him than for
herself at the moment, and watched him with some anxiety as he mounted
again. As soon as he was comfortably in the saddle, he began once more -
You're my - but here another voice broke in - Ahoy! Ahoy! Check! - and
Alice looked round in some surprise for the new enemy.
This time it was a White Knight. He drew up at Alice's side, and
tumbled off his horse just as the Red Knight had done: then he got on
again, and the two Knights sat and looked at each other for some time
without speaking. Alice looked from one to the other in some bewilderment.
- She's MY prisoner, you know! - the Red Knight said at last.
- Yes, but then _I_ came and rescued her! - the White Knight replied.
- Well, we must fight for her, then, - said the Red Knight, as he
took up his helmet (which hung from the saddle, and was something the
shape of a horse's head, and put it on.
- You will observe the Rules of Battle, of course? - the White Knight
remarked, putting on his helmet too.
- I always do, - said the Red Knight, and they began banging away at
each other with such fury that Alice got behind a tree to be out of the
way of the blows.
- I wonder, now, what the Rules of Battle are, - she said to herself,
as she watched the fight, timidly peeping out from her hiding-place: - one
Rule seems to be, that if one Knight hits the other, he knocks him off his
horse, and if he misses, he tumbles off himself - and another Rule seems
to be that they hold their clubs with their arms, as if they were Punch
and Judy - What a noise they make when they tumble! Just like a whole set
of fireirons falling into the fender! And how quiet the horses are! They
let them get on and off them just as if they were tables!
Another Rule of Battle, that Alice had not noticed, seemed to be that
they always fell on their heads, and the battle ended with their both
falling off in this way, side by side: when they got up again, they shook
hands, and then the Red Knight mounted and galloped off.
- It was a glorious victory, wasn't it? - said the White Knight, as
he came up panting.
- I don't know, - Alice said doubtfully. - I don't want to be
anybody's prisoner. I want to be a Queen.
- So you will, when you've crossed the next brook, - said the White
Knight. - I'll see you safe to the end of the wood - and then I must go
back, you know. That's the end of my move.
- Thank you very much, - said Alice. - May I help you off with your
helmet? - It was evidently more than he could manage by himself; however,
she managed to shake him out of it at last.
- Now one can breathe more easily, - said the Knight, putting back
his shaggy hair with both hands, and turning his gentle face and large
mild eyes to Alice. She thought she had never seen such a strange-looking
soldier in all her life.
He was dressed in tin armour, which seemed to fit him very badly, and
he had a queer-shaped little deal box fastened across his shoulder,
upside-down, and with the lid hanging open. Alice looked at it with great
curiosity.
- I see you're admiring my little box. - the Knight said in a
friendly tone. - It's my own invention - to keep clothes and sandwiches
in. You see I carry it upside-down, so that the rain can't get in.
- But the things can get OUT, - Alice gently remarked. - Do you know
the lid's open?
- I didn't know it, - the Knight said, a shade of vexation passing
over his face. - Then all the things much have fallen out! And the box is
no use without them. - He unfastened it as he spoke, and was just going to
throw it into the bushes, when a sudden though seemed to strike him, and
he hung it carefully on a tree. - Can you guess why I did that? - he said
to Alice.
Alice shook her head. - In hopes some bees my make a nest in it -
then I should get the
honey.
- But you've got a bee-hive - or something like one - fastened to the
saddle, - said Alice.
- Yes, it's a very good bee-hive, - the Knight said in a discontented
tone, - one of the best kind. But not a single bee has come near it yet.
And the other thing is a mouse-trap. I suppose the mice keep the bees out
- or the bees keep the mice out, I don't know which.
- I was wondering what the mouse-trap was for, - said Alice. - It
isn't very likely there would be any mice on the horse's back.
- Not very likely, perhaps, - said the Knight: - but if they DO come,
I don't choose to have them running all about.
- You see, - he went on after a pause, - it's as well to be provided
for EVERYTHING. That's the reason the horse has all those anklets round
his feet.
- But what are they for? - Alice asked in a tone of great curiosity.
- To guard against the bites of sharks, - the Knight replied. - It's
an invention of my own. And now help me on. I'll go with you to the end of
the wood - What's the dish for?
- It's meant for plum-cake, - said Alice.
- We'd better take it with us, the Knight said. - It'll some in handy
if we find any plum-cake. Help me to get it into this bag.
This took a very long time to manage, though Alice held the bag open
very carefully, because the Knight was so VERY awkward in putting in the
dish: the first two or three times that he tried he fell in himself
instead. - It's rather a tight fit, you see, - he said, as they got it in
a last; - There are so many candlesticks in the bag. - And he hung it to
the saddle, which was already loaded with bunches of carrots, and
fire-irons, and many other things.
- I hope you've got your hair well fastened on? - he continued, as
they set off.
- Only in the usual way, - alice said, smiling.
- That's hardly enough, - he said, anxiously. - You see the wind is
so VERY strong here. It's as strong as soup.
- Have you invented a plan for keeping the hair from being blown off?
- Alice enquired.
- Not yet, - said the Knight. - But I've got a plan for keeping it
from FALLING off.
- I should like to hear it, very much.
- First you take an upright stick, - said the Knight. - Then you make
your hair creep up it, like a fruit-tree. Now the reason hair falls off is
because it hangs DOWN - things never fall UPWARDS, you know. It's a plan
of my own invention. You may try it if you like.
It didn't sound a comfortable plan, Alice thought, and for a few
minutes she walked on in silence, puzzling over the idea, and every now
and then stopping to help the poor Knight, who certainly was NOT a good
rider.
Whenever the horse stopped (which it did very often), he fell off in
front; and whenever it went on again (which it generally did rather
suddenly), he fell off behind. Otherwise he kept on pretty well, except
that he had a habit of now and then falling off sideways; and as he
generally did this on the side on which Alice was walking, she soon found
that it was the best plan not to walk QUITE close to the horse.
- I'm afraid you've not had much practice in riding, - she ventured
to say, as she was helping him up from his fifth tumble.
The Knight looked very much surprised, and a little offended at the
remark. - What makes you say that? - he asked, as he scrambled back into
the saddle, keeping hold of Alice's hair with one hand, to save himself
from falling over on the other side.
- Because people don't fall off quite so often, when they've had much
practice.
- I've had plenty of practice, - the Knight said very gravely: -
plenty of practice!
Alice could think of nothing better to say than - Indeed? - but she
said it as heartily as she could. They went on a little way in silence
after this, the Knight with his eyes shut, muttering to himself, and Alice
watching anxiously for the next tumble.
- The great art of riding, - the Knight suddenly began in a loud
voice, waving his right arm as he spoke, - is to keep - Here the sentence
ended as suddenly as it had begun, as the Knight fell heavily on the top
of his head exactly in the path were Alice was walking. She was quite
frightened this time, and said in an anxious tone, as she picked him up, -
I hope no bones are broken?
- None to speak of, - the Knight said, as if he didn't mind breaking
two or three of them. - The great art of riding, as I was saying, is - to
keep your balance properly. Like this, you know
He let go the bridle, and stretched out both his arms to show Alice
what he meant, and this time he fell flat on his back, right under the
horse's feet.
- Plenty of practice? - he went on repeating, all the time that Alice
was getting him on his feet again. - Plenty of practice!
- It's too ridiculous! - cried Alice, losing all her patience this
time. - You ought to have a wooden horse on wheels, that you ought!
- Does that kind go smoothly? - the Knight asked in a tone of great
interest, clasping his arms round the horse's neck as he spoke, just in
time to save himself from tumbling off again.
- Much more smoothly than a live horse, - Alice said, with a little
scream of laughter, in spite of all she could do to prevent it.
- I'll get one, - the Knight said thoughtfully to himself. - One or
two - several.
There was a short silence after this, and then the Knight went on
again. - I'm a great hand at inventing things. Now, I daresay you noticed,
that last time you picked me up, that I was looking rather thoughtful?
- You WERE a little grave, - said Alice.
- Well, just then I was inventing a new way of getting over a gate -
would you like to hear it?
- Very much indeed, - Alice said politely.
- I'll tell you how I came to think of it, - said the Knight. - You
see, I said to myself, "The only difficulty is with the feet: the HEAD is
high enough already." Now, first I put my head on the top of the gate -
then I stand on my head - then the feet are high enough, you see - then
I'm over, you see.
- Yes, I suppose you'd be over when that was done, - Alice said
thoughtfully: - but don't you think it would be rather hard?
- I haven't tried it yet, - the Knight said, gravely: - so I can't
tell for certain - but I'm afraid it WOULD be a little hard.
He looked so vexed at the idea, that Alice changed the subject
hastily. - What a curious helmet you've got! - she said cheerfully. - Is
that your invention too?
The Knight looked down proudly at his helmet, which hung from the
saddle. - Yes, - he said, - but I've invented a better one than that like
a sugar loaf. When I used to wear it, if I fell of the horse, it always
touched the ground directly. So I had a VERY little way to fall, you see -
But there WAS the danger of falling INTO it, to be sure. THat happened to
me once - and the worst of it was, before I could get out again, the other
White Knight came and put it on. He thought it was his own helmet.
The knight looked so solemn about it that Alice did not dare to
laugh. - I'm afraid you must have hurt him, - she said in a trembling
voice, - being on the top of his head.
- I had to kick him, of course, - the Knight said, very seriously. -
And then he took the helmet off again - but it took hours and hours to get
me out. I was as fast as - as lightning, you know.
- But that's a different kind of fastness, - Alice objected. The
Knight shook his head. - It was all kinds of fastness with me, I
can assure you! - he said. He raised his hands in some excitement as he
said this, and instantly rolled out of the saddle, and fell headlong into
a deep ditch.
Alice ran to the side of the ditch to look for him. She was rather
startled by the fall, as for some time he had kept on very well, and she
was afraid that he really WAS hurt this time. However, though she could
see nothing but the soles of his feet, she was much relieved to hear that
he was talking on in his usual tone. - All kinds of fastness, - he
repeated: - but it was careless of him to put another man's helmet on -
with the man in it, too.
- How CAN you go on talking so quietly, head downwards? - Alice
asked, as she dragged him out by the feet, and laid him in a heap on the
bank.
The Knight looked surprised at the question. - What does it matter
where my body happens to be? - he said. - My mind goes on working all the
same. In fact, the more head downwards I am, the more I keep inventing new
things.
- Now the cleverest thing of the sort that I ever did, - he went on
after a pause, - was inventing a new pudding during the meatcourse.
- In time to have it cooked for the next course? - said Alice. -
Well, not the NEXT course, - the Knight said in a slow thoughtful tone: -
no, certainly not the next COURSE.
- Then it would have to be the next day. I suppose you wouldn't have
two pudding-courses in one dinner?
- Well, not the NEXT day, - the Knight repeated as before: - not the
next DAY. In fact, - he went on, holding his head down, and his voice
getting lower and lower, - I don't believe that pudding ever WAS cooked!
In fact, I don't believe that pudding ever WILL be cooked! And yet it was
a very clever pudding to invent.
- What did you mean it to be made of? - Alice asked, hoping to cheer
him up, for the poor Knight seemed quite low-spirited about it.
It began with blotting paper, - the Knight answered with a groan. -
That wouldn't be very nice, I'm afraid - Not very nice ALONE, - he
interrupted, quite eagerly: - but you've
no idea what a difference it makes mixing it with other things
such as gunpowder and sealing-wax. And here I must leave you. - They
had just come to the end of the wood.
Alice could only look puzzled: she was thinking of the pudding. - You
are sad, - the Knight said in an anxious tone: - let me sing you
a song to comfort you.
- Is it very long? - Alice asked, for she had heard a good deal of
poetry that day.
- It's long, - said the Knight, - but very, VERY beautiful. Everybody
that hears me sing it - either it brings the TEARS into their eyes, or
else
- Or else what? - said Alice, for the Knight had made a sudden pause.
- Or else it doesn't, you know. The name of the song is called
"HADDOCKS - EYES."
- Oh, that's the name of the song, is it? - Alice said, trying to
feel interested.
- No, you don't understand, - the Knight said, looking a little
vexed. - That's what the name is CALLED. The name really IS "THE AGED AGED
MAN."
- Then I ought to have said "That's what the SONG is called"? - Alice
corrected herself.
- No, you oughtn't: that's quite another thing! The SONG is called
"WAYS AND MEANS": but that's only what it's CALLED, you know!
- Well, what IS the song, then? - said Alice, who was by this time
completely bewildered.
- I was coming to that, - the Knight said. - The song really IS
"A-SITTING ON A GATE": and the tune's my own invention.
So saying, he stopped his horse and let the reins fall on its neck:
then, slowly beating time with one hand, and with a faint smile lighting
up his gentle foolish face, as if he enjoyed the music of his song, he
began.
Of all the strange things that Alice saw in her journey Through The
Looking-Glass, this was the one that she always remembered most clearly.
Years afterwards she could bring the whole scene back again, as if it had
been only yesterday - the mild blue eyes and kindly smile of the Knight -
the setting sun gleaming through his hair, and shining on his armour in a
blaze of light that quite dazzled her the horse quietly moving about, with
the reins hanging loose on his neck, cropping the grass at her feet - and
the black shadows of the forest behind - all this she took in like a
picture, as, with one hand shading her eyes, she leant against a green,
watching the strange pair, and listening, in a half dream, to the
melancholy music of the song.
- But the tune ISN'T his own invention, - she said to herself: - it's
"I GIVE THEE ALL, I CAN NO MORE." - She stood and listened very
attentively, but no tears came into her eyes.

- I'll tell thee everything I can;
There's little to relate.
I saw an aged aged man,
A-sitting on a gate.
"Who are you, aged man? - I said.
"and how is it you live?"
And his answer trickled through my head
Like water through a sieve.

He said "I look for butterflies
That sleep among the wheat:
I make them into mutton-pies,
And sell them in the street.
I sell them unto men, - he said,
"Who sail on stormy seas;
And that's the way I get my bread
A trifle, if you please."

But I was thinking of a plan
To dye one's whiskers green,
And always use so large a fan
That they could not be seen.
So, having no reply to give
To what the old man said,
I cried, "Come, tell me how you live!"
And thumped him on the head.

His accents mild took up the tale:
He said "I go my ways,
And when I find a mountain-rill,
I set it in a blaze;
And thence they make a stuff they call
Rolands - Macassar Oil
Yet twopence-halfpenny is all
They give me for my toil."

But I was thinking of a way
To feed oneself on batter,
And so go on from day to day
Getting a little fatter.
I shook him well from side to side,
Until his face was blue:
"Come, tell me how you live," I cried,
"And what it is you do!
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