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THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS by LEWIS CARROLL

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!"  
  
            He said "I hunt for haddocks - eyes  
              Among the heather bright,  
            And work them into waistcoat-buttons  
              In the silent night.  
            And these I do not sell for gold  
              Or coin of silvery shine  
            But for a copper halfpenny,  
              And that will purchase nine.  
  
            "I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,  
              Or set limed twigs for crabs;  
            I sometimes search the grassy knolls  
              For wheels of Hansom-cabs.  
            And that's the way" (he gave a wink)  
              "By which I get my wealth    
            And very gladly will I drink  
              Your Honour's noble health."  
  
            I heard him then, for I had just  
              Completed my design  
            To keep the Menai bridge from rust  
              By boiling it in wine.  
            I thanked much for telling me  
              The way he got his wealth,  
            But chiefly for his wish that he  
              Might drink my noble health.  
  
            And not, if e'er by chance I put  
              My fingers into glue  
            Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot  
              Into a left-hand shoe,  
            Or if I drop upon my toe  
              A very heavy weight,  
            I weep, for it reminds me so,  
              Of that old man I used to know    
  
            Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,  
            Whose hair was whiter than the snow,  
            Whose face was very like a crow,  
            With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,  
            Who seemed distracted with his woe,  
            Who rocked his body to and fro,  
            And muttered mumblingly and low,  
            As if his mouth were full of dough,  
            Who snorted like a buffalo    
            That summer evening, long ago,  
              A-sitting on a gate.   
  
     As the Knight sang the last words of the ballad, he gathered  up  the 
reins, and turned his horse's head along the road by which they had  come. 
- You've only a few yards to go, - he said, - down the hill and over  that 
little brook, and then you'll be a Queen - -But you'll stay and see me off 
first? - he added as Alice turned with an eager look in the  direction  to 
which he  pointed.  -  I  shan't  be  long.  You'll  wait  and  wave  your 
handkerchief when I get to that turn in the road? I think it'll  encourage 
me, you see. 
     - Of course I'll wait, - said Alice: - and thank you  very  much  for
coming so far - and for the song - I liked it very much.
     - I hope so, - the Knight said doubtfully: - but you  didn't  cry  so
much as I thought you would.
     So they shook hands, and then the Knight rode slowly  away  into  the 
forest. - It won't take long to see him OFF, I expect,  -  Alice  said  to 
herself, as she stood watching him. - There he goes! Right on his head  as 
usual! However, he gets on again pretty easily - that comes of  having  so 
many things hung round the horse - So she went on talking to  herself,  as 
she watched the horse walking leisurely along the  road,  and  the  Knight 
tumbling off, first on one side and then on the other. After the fourth or 
fifth tumble he reached the turn, and then she waved her  handkerchief  to 
him, and waited till he was out of sight. 
     - I hope it encouraged him, - she said, as he turned to run down  the
hill: - and now for the last brook, and  to  be  a  Queen!  How  grand  it
sounds! - A very few steps brought her to the edge of  the  brook.  -  The
Eighth Square at last! - she cried as she bounded across,
  
                           * * * * * * *  
                               * * * * * *  
                           * * * * * * *  
  
     and threw herself down to rest on a lawn as soft as moss, with little 
flower-beds dotted about it here and there. - Oh, how glad  I  am  to  get 
here! And what IS this on my head? - she exclaimed in a tone of dismay, as 
she put her hands up to something very heavy, and fitted tight  all  round 
her head. 
     - But how CAN it have got there without my knowing it? - she said  to
herself, as she lifted it off, and set it on her lap to make out  what  it
could possibly be.
     It was a golden crown. 




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