The Complete Alice in Wonderland (Wonderland Imprints Master Editions)

by Lewis Carroll

  Well, she wandered up and down, and didn’t know what in the world to do, to make herself grow up to her right size again. Of course she knew that she had to eat or drink something: that was the regular rule, you know: but she couldn’t guess what thing.

  However, she soon came to a great mushroom, that was so tall that she couldn’t see over the top of it without standing on tip-toe. And what do you think she saw? Something that I’m sure you never talked to, in all your life!

  It was a large Blue Caterpillar.

  I’ll tell you, soon, what Alice and the Caterpillar talked about: but first let us have a good look at the picture.

  That curious thing, standing in front of the Caterpillar, is called a “hookah”: and it’s used for smoking. The smoke comes through that long tube, that winds round and round like a serpent.

  And do you see its long nose and chin? At least, they look exactly like a nose and chin, don’t they? But they really are two of its legs. You know a Caterpillar has got quantities of legs: you can see some more of them, further down.

  What a bother it must be to a Caterpillar, counting over such a lot of legs, every night, to make sure it hasn’t lost any of them!

  And another great bother must be, having to settle which leg it had better move first. I think, if you had forty or fifty legs, and if you wanted to go a walk, you’d be such a time in settling which leg to begin with, that you’d never go a walk at all!

  And what did Alice and the Caterpillar talk about, I wonder?

  Well, Alice told it how very confusing it was, being first one size and then another.

  And the Caterpillar asked her if she liked the size she was, just then.

  And Alice said she would like to be just a little bit larger—three inches was such a wretched height to be! (Just mark off three inches on the wall, about the length of your middle finger, and you’ll see what size she was.)

  And the Caterpillar told her one side of the mushroom would make her grow taller, and the other side would make her grow shorter.

  So Alice took two little bits of it with her to nibble, and managed to make herself quite a nice comfortable height, before she went on to visit the Duchess.

  Chapter VIII.

  The Pig-Baby

  WOULD you like to hear about Alice’s visit to the Duchess? It was a very interesting visit indeed, I can assure you.

  Of course she knocked at the door to begin with: but nobody came: so she had to open it for herself.

  Now, if you look at the picture, you’ll see exactly what Alice saw when she got inside.

  The door led right into the kitchen, you see. The Duchess sat in the middle of the room, nursing the Baby. The Baby was howling. The soup was boiling. The Cook was stirring the soup. The Cat—it was a Cheshire-Cat—was grinning, as Cheshire-Cats always do. All these things were happening just as Alice went in.

  The Duchess has a beautiful cap and gown, hasn’t she? But I’m afraid she hasn’t got a very beautiful face.

  The Baby—well, I daresay you’ve seen several nicer babies than that: and more good-tempered ones, too. However, take a good look at it, and we’ll see if you know it again, next time you meet it!

  The Cook—well, you may have seen nicer cooks, once or twice.

  But I’m nearly sure you’ve never seen a nicer Cat! Now have you? And wouldn’t you like to have a Cat of your own, just like that one, with lovely green eyes, and smiling so sweetly?

  The Duchess was very rude to Alice. And no wonder. Why, she even called her own Baby “Pig!” And it wasn’t a Pig, was it? And she ordered the Cook to chop off Alice’s head: though of course the Cook didn’t do it: and at last she threw the Baby at her! So Alice caught the Baby, and took it away with her: and I think that was about the best thing she could do.

  So she wandered away, through the wood, carrying the ugly little thing with her. And a great job it was to keep hold of it, it wriggled about so. But at last she found out that the proper way was, to keep tight hold of its left foot and its right ear.

  But don’t you try to hold on to a Baby like that, my Child! There are not many babies that like being nursed in that way!

  Well, and so the Baby kept grunting, and grunting. so that Alice had to say to it, quite seriously, “If you’re going to turn into a Pig, my dear, I’ll have nothing more to do with you. Mind now!”

  And at last she looked down into its face, and what do you think had happened to it? Look at the picture, and see if you can guess.

  “Why, that’s not the Baby that Alice was nursing, is it?”

  Ah, I knew you wouldn’t know it again, though I told you to take a good look at it! Yes, it is the Baby. And it’s turned into a little Pig!

  So Alice put it down, and let it trot away into the wood. And she said to herself “It was a very ugly Baby : but it makes rather a handsome Pig, I think.”

  Don’t you think she was right?

  Chapter IX.

  The Cheshire-Cat

  ALL alone, all alone! Poor Alice! No Baby, not even a Pig to keep her company!

  So you may be sure she was very glad indeed, when she saw the Cheshire-Cat, perched up in a tree, over her head.

  The Cat has a very nice smile, no doubt: but just look what a lot of teeth it’s got! Isn’t Alice just a little shy of it?

  Well, yes, a little. But then, it couldn’t help having teeth, you know: and it could have helped smiling, supposing it had been cross. So, on the whole, she was glad.

  Doesn’t Alice look very prim, holding her head so straight up, and with her hands behind her, just as if she were going to say her lessons to the Cat!

  And that reminds me. There’s a little lesson I want to teach you, while we’re looking at this picture of Alice and the Cat. Now don’t be in a bad temper about it, my dear Child! It’s a very little lesson indeed!

  Do you see that Fox-Glove growing close to the tree? And do you know why it’s called a Fox-Glove? Perhaps you think it’s got something to do with a Fox? No indeed! Foxes never wear Gloves!

  The right word is “Folk’s-Gloves.” Did you ever hear that Fairies used to be called “the good Folk”?

  Now we’ve finished the lesson, and we’ll wait a minute, till you’ve got your temper again.

  Well? Do you feel quite good-natured again? No temper-ache? No crossness about the corners of the mouth? Then we’ll go on.

  “Cheshire Puss!” said Alice. (Wasn’t that a pretty name for a Cat?) “Would you tell me which way I ought to go from here?”

  And so the Cheshire-Cat told her which way she ought to go, if she wanted to visit the Hatter, and which way to go, to visit the March Hare. “They’re both mad!” said the Cat.

  And then the Cat vanished away, just like the flame of a candle when it goes out!

  So Alice set off, to visit the March Hare. And as she went along, there was the Cat again! And she told it she didn’t like it coming and going so quickly.

  So this time the Cat vanished quite slowly, beginning with the tail, and ending with the grin. Wasn’t that a curious thing, a Grin without any Cat? Would you like to see one?

  If you turn up the corner of this leaf, you’ll have Alice looking at the Grin: and she doesn’t look a bit more frightened than when she was looking at the Cat, does she?

  Chapter X.

  The Mad Tea-Party

  THIS is the Mad Tea-Party. You see Alice had left the Cheshire-Cat, and had gone off to see the March Hare and the Hatter, as the Cheshire-Cat had advised her: and she found them having tea under a great tree, with a Dormouse sitting between them.

  There were only those three at the table, but there were quantities of tea-cups set all along it. You ca’n’t see all the table, you know, and even in the bit you can see there are nine cups, counting the one the March Hare has got in his hand.

  That’s the March Hare, with the long ears, and straws mixed up with his hair. The straws showed he was mad—I don’t know why. Never twist up straws among your hair, for fear people should think
you’re mad!

  There was a nice green arm-chair at the end of the table, that looked as if it was just meant for Alice: so she went and sat down in it.

  Then she had quite a long talk with the March Hare and the Hatter. The Dormouse didn’t say much. You see it was fast asleep generally, and it only just woke up for a moment, now and then.

  As long as it was asleep, it was very useful to the March Hare and the Hatter, because it had a nice round soft head, just like a pillow: so they could put their elbows on it, and lean across it, and talk to each other quite comfortably. You wouldn’t like people to use your head for a pillow, would you? But if you were fast asleep, like the Dormouse, you wouldn’t feel it: so I suppose you wouldn’t care about it.

  I’m afraid they gave Alice very little to eat and drink. However, after a bit, she helped herself to some tea and bread-and-butter: only I don’t quite see where she got the bread-and-butter: and she had no plate for it. Nobody seems to have a plate except the Hatter. I believe the March Hare must have had one as well: because, when they all moved one place on (that was the rule at this curious tea-party), and Alice had to go into the place of the March Hare, she found he had just upset the milk-jug into his plate. So I suppose his plate and the milk-jug are hidden behind that large tea-pot.

  The Hatter used to carry about hats to sell: and even the one that he’s got on his head is meant to be sold. You see it’s got its price marked on it—a “10” and a “6”—that means “ten shillings and sixpence.” Wasn’t that a funny way of selling hats? And hasn’t he got a beautiful neck-tie on? Such a lovely yellow tie, with large red spots.

  He has just got up to say to Alice “Your hair wants cutting!” That was a rude thing to say, wasn’t it? And do you think her hair does want cutting? I think it’s a very pretty length—just the right length.

  Chapter XI.

  The Queen’s Garden

  THIS is a little bit of the beautiful garden I told you about. You see Alice had managed at last to get quite small, so that she could go through the little door. I suppose she was about as tall as a mouse, if it stood on its hind-legs: so of course this was a very tiny rose-tree: and these are very tiny gardeners.

  What funny little men they are! But are they men, do you think? I think they must be live cards, with just a head, and arms, and legs, so as to look like little men. And what are they doing with that red paint, I wonder? Well, you see, this is what they told Alice. The Queen of Hearts wanted to have a red rose-tree just in that corner: and these poor little gardeners had made a great mistake, and had put in a white one instead: and they were so frightened about it, because the Queen was sure to be angry, and then she would order all their heads to be cut off!

  She was a dreadfully savage Queen, and that was the way she always did, when she was angry with people. “Off with their head!” They didn’t really cut their heads off, you know: because nobody ever obeyed her: but that was what she always said.

  Now ca’n’t you guess what the poor little gardeners are trying to do? They’re trying to paint the roses red, and they’re in a great hurry to get it done before the Queen comes. And then perhaps the Queen wo’n’t find out it was a white rose-tree to begin with: and then perhaps the little men wo’n’t get their heads cut off!

  You see there were five large white roses on the tree—such a job to get them all painted red! But they’ve got three and a half done, now, and if only they wouldn’t stop to talk—work away, little men, do work away! Or the Queen will be coming before it’s done! And if she finds any white roses on the tree, do you know what will happen? It will be “Off with their heads!” Oh, work away, my little men! Hurry, hurry!

  Chapter XII.

  The Lobster-Quadrille

  DID you ever play at Croquet? There are large wooden balls, painted with different colours, that you have to roll about; and arches of wire, that you have to send them through; and great wooden mallets, with long handles, to knock the balls about with.

  Now look at the picture, and you’ll see that Alice has just been playing a Game of Croquet.

  “But she couldn’t play, with that great red what’s-its-name in her arms! Why, how could she hold the mallet?”

  Why, my dear Child, that great red what’s-its-name (its real name is “a Flamingo”) is the mallet! In this Croquet-Game, the balls were live Hedge-hogs—you know a hedge-hog can roll itself up into a ball?—and the mallets were live Flamingos!

  So Alice is just resting from the Game, for a minute, to have a chat with that dear old thing, the Duchess: and of course she keeps her mallet under her arm, so as not to lose it.

  “But I don’t think she was a dear old thing, one bit! To call her Baby a Pig, and to want to chop off Alice’s head!”

  Oh, that was only a joke, about chopping off Alice’s head: and as to the Baby—why, it was a Pig, you know! And just look at her smile! Why, it’s wider than all Alice’s head: and yet you can only see half of it!

  Well, they’d only had a very little chat, when the Queen came and took Alice away, to see the Gryphon and the Mock Turtle.

  You don’t know what a Gryphon is? Well! Do you know anything? That’s the question. However, look at the picture. That creature with a red head, and red claws, and green scales, is the Gryphon. Now you know.

  And the other’s the Mock Turtle. It’s got a calf’s-head, because calf’s-head is used to make Mock Turtle Soup. Now you know.

  “But what are they doing, going round and round Alice like that?”

  Why, I thought of course you’d know that! They’re dancing a Lobster-Quadrille.

  And next time you meet a Gryphon and a Mock Turtle, I daresay they’ll dance it for you, if you ask them prettily. Only don’t let them come quite close, or they’ll be treading on your toes, as they did on poor Alice’s.

  Chapter XIII.

  Who Stole the Tarts?

  DID you ever hear how the Queen of Hearts made some tarts? And can you tell me what became of them?

  Why, of course I can! Doesn’t the song tell all about it?

  The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts:

  All on a summer day:

  The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts,

  And took them quite away!

  Well, yes, the Song says so. But it would never do to punish the poor Knave, just because there was a Song about him. They had to take him prisoner, and put chains on his wrists, and bring him before the King of Hearts, so that there might be a regular trial.

  Now, if you look at the big picture, at the beginning of this book, you’ll see what a grand thing a trial is, when the Judge is a King!

  The King is very grand, isn’t he? But he doesn’t look very happy. I think that big crown, on the top of his wig, must be very heavy and uncomfortable. But he had to wear them both, you see, so that people might know he was a Judge and a King.

  And doesn’t the Queen look cross? She can see the dish of tarts on the table, that she had taken such trouble to make. And she can see the bad Knave (do you see the chains hanging from his wrists?) that stole them away from her: so I don’t think it’s any wonder if she does feel a little cross.

  The White Rabbit is standing near the King, reading out the Song, to tell everybody what a bad Knave he is: and the Jury (you can just see two of them, up in the Jury-box, the Frog and the Duck) have to settle whether he’s “guilty” or “not guilty.”

  Now I’ll tell you about the accident that happened to Alice.

  You see, she was sitting close by the Jury-box: and she was called as a witness. You know what a “witness” is? A “witness” is a person who has seen the prisoner do whatever he’s accused of, or at any rate knows something that’s important in the trial.

  But Alice hadn’t seen the Queen make the tarts: and she hadn’t seen the Knave take the tarts: and, in fact, she didn’t know anything about it: so why in the world they wanted her to be a witness, I’m sure I ca’n’t tell you!

  Anyhow, they did want her. And the White Rabbit b
lew his big trumpet, and shouted out “Alice!” And so Alice jumped up in a great hurry. And then—

  And then what do you think happened? Why, her skirt caught against the Jury-box, and tipped it over, and all the poor little Jurors came tumbling out of it!

  Let’s try if we can make out all the twelve. You know there ought to be twelve to make up a Jury. I can see the Frog, and the Dormouse, and the Rat and the Ferret, and the Hedgehog, and the Lizard, and the Bantam-Cock, and the Mole, and the Duck, and the Squirrel, and a screaming bird, with a long beak, just behind the Mole.

  But that only makes eleven: we must find one more creature.

  Oh, do you see a little white head, coming out behind the Mole, and just under the Duck’s beak? That makes up the twelve.

  Mr. Tenniel says the screaming bird is a Storkling (of course you know what that is?) and the little white head is a Mouseling. Isn’t it a little darling?

  Alice picked them all up again, very carefully, and I hope they weren’t much hurt!

  Chapter XIV.

  The Shower of Cards

  OH dear, oh dear! What is it all about? And what’s happening to Alice?

  Well, I’ll tell you all about it, as well I can. The way the trial ended was this. The King wanted the Jury to settle whether the Knave of Hearts was guilty or not guilty—that means that they were to settle whether he had stolen the Tarts, or if somebody else had taken them. But the wicked Queen wanted to have his punishment settled, first of all. That wasn’t at all fair, was it? Because, you know, supposing he never took the Tarts, then of course he oughtn’t to be punished. Would you like to be punished for something you hadn’t done?