The Complete Alice in Wonderland (60 page)

But the Butcher turned nervous, and dressed himself fine,

With yellow kid-gloves and a ruff—

Said he felt it exactly like going to dine,

Which the Bellman declared was all “stuff.”

“Introduce me, now there’s a good fellow,” he said,

“If we happen to meet it together!”

And the Bellman, sagaciously nodding his head,

Said “That must depend on the weather.”

The Beaver went simply galumphing about,

At seeing the Butcher so shy:

And even the Baker, though stupid and stout,

Made an effort to wink with one eye.

“Be a man!” said the Bellman in wrath, as he heard

The Butcher beginning to sob.

“Should we meet with a Jubjub, that desperate bird,

We shall need all our strength for the job!”

Fit the Fifth:

The Beaver’s Lesson

THEY sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;

They pursued it with forks and hope;

They threatened its life with a railway-share;

They charmed it with smiles and soap.

Then the Butcher contrived an ingenious plan

For making a separate sally;

And fixed on a spot unfrequented by man,

A dismal and desolate valley.

But the very same plan to the Beaver occurred:

It had chosen the very same place:

Yet neither betrayed, by a sign or a word,

The disgust that appeared in his face.

Each thought he was thinking of nothing but “snark”

And the glorious work of the day;

And each tried to pretend that he did not remark

That the other was going that way.

But the valley grew narrow and narrower still,

And the evening got darker and colder,

Till (merely from nervousness, not from goodwill)

They marched along shoulder to shoulder.

Then a scream, shrill and high, rent the shuddering sky,

And they knew that some danger was near:

The Beaver turned pale to the tip of its tail,

And even the Butcher felt queer.

He thought of his childhood, left far far behind—

That blissful and innocent state—

The sound so exactly recalled to his mind

A pencil that squeaks on a slate!

“’Tis the voice of the Jubjub!” he suddenly cried.

(This man, that they used to call “Dunce.”)

“As the Bellman would tell you,” he added with pride,

“I have uttered that sentiment once.

“’Tis the note of the Jubjub! Keep count, I entreat;

You will find I have told it you twice.

’Tis the song of the Jubjub! The proof is complete,

If only I’ve stated it thrice.”

The Beaver had counted with scrupulous care,

Attending to every word:

But it fairly lost heart, and outgrabe in despair,

When the third repetition occurred.

It felt that, in spite of all possible pains,

It had somehow contrived to lose count,

And the only thing now was to rack its poor brains

By reckoning up the amount.

“Two added to one—if that could but be done,”

It said, “with one’s fingers and thumbs!”

Recollecting with tears how, in earlier years,

It had taken no pains with its sums.

“The thing can be done,” said the Butcher, “I think.

The thing must be done, I am sure.

The thing shall be done! Bring me paper and ink,

The best there is time to procure.”

The Beaver brought paper, portfolio, pens,

And ink in unfailing supplies:

While strange creepy creatures came out of their dens,

And watched them with wondering eyes.

So engrossed was the Butcher, he heeded them not,

As he wrote with a pen in each hand,

And explained all the while in a popular style

Which the Beaver could well understand.

“Taking Three as the subject to reason about—

A convenient number to state—

We add Seven, and Ten, and then multiply out

By One Thousand diminished by Eight.

“The result we proceed to divide, as you see,

By Nine Hundred and Ninety and Two:

Then subtract Seventeen, and the answer must be

Exactly and perfectly true.

“The method employed I would gladly explain,

While I have it so clear in my head,

If I had but the time and you had but the brain—

But much yet remains to be said.

“In one moment I’ve seen what has hitherto been

Enveloped in absolute mystery,

And without extra charge I will give you at large

A Lesson in Natural History.”

In his genial way he proceeded to say

(Forgetting all laws of propriety,

And that giving instruction, without introduction,

Would have caused quite a thrill in Society),

“As to temper the Jubjub’s a desperate bird,

Since it lives in perpetual passion:

Its taste in costume is entirely absurd—

It is ages ahead of the fashion:

“But it knows any friend it has met once before:

It never will look at a bribe:

And in charity-meetings it stands at the door,

And collects—though it does not subscribe.

“Its flavor when cooked is more exquisite far

Than mutton, or oysters, or eggs:

(Some think it keeps best in an ivory jar,

And some, in mahogany kegs:)

“You boil it in sawdust: you salt it in glue:

You condense it with locusts and tape:

Still keeping one principal object in view—

To preserve its symmetrical shape.”

The Butcher would gladly have talked till next day,

But he felt that the Lesson must end,

And he wept with delight in attempting to say

He considered the Beaver his friend.

While the Beaver confessed, with affectionate looks

More eloquent even than tears,

It had learned in ten minutes far more than all books

Would have taught it in seventy years.

They returned hand-in-hand, and the Bellman, unmanned

(For a moment) with noble emotion,

Said “This amply repays all the wearisome days

We have spent on the billowy ocean!”

Such friends, as the Beaver and Butcher became,

Have seldom if ever been known;

In winter or summer, ’twas always the same—

You could never meet either alone.

And when quarrels arose—as one frequently finds

Quarrels will, spite of every endeavour—

The song of the Jubjub recurred to their minds,

And cemented their friendship for ever!

Fit the Sixth:

The Barrister’s Dream

THEY sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;

They pursued it with forks and hope;

They threatened its life with a railway-share;

They charmed it with smiles and soap.

But the Barrister, weary of proving in vain

That the Beaver’s lace-making was wrong,

Fell asleep, and in dreams saw the creature quite plain

That his fancy had dwelt on so long.

He dreamed that he stood in a shadowy Court,

Where the Snark, with a glass in its eye,

Dressed in gown, bands, and wig, was defending a pig

On the charge of deserting its sty.

The Witnesses proved, without error or flaw,

That the sty was deserted when found:

And the Judge kept explaining the state of the law

In a soft under-current of sound.

The indictment had never been clearly expressed,

And it seemed that the Snark had begun,

And had spoken three hours, before any one guessed

What the pig was supposed to have done.

The Jury had each formed a different view

(Long before the indictment was read),

And they all spoke at once, so that none of them knew

One word that the others had said.

“You must know—-” said the Judge: but the Snark exclaimed “Fudge!

That statute is obsolete quite!

Let me tell you, my friends, the whole question depends

On an ancient manorial right.

“In the matter of Treason the pig would appear

To have aided, but scarcely abetted:

While the charge of Insolvency fails, it is clear,

If you grant the plea “never indebted.”

“The fact of Desertion I will not dispute;

But its guilt, as I trust, is removed

(So far as relates to the costs of this suit)

By the Alibi which has been proved.

“My poor client’s fate now depends on your votes.”