Alice (Fictitious character from Carroll) -- Juvenile fiction; Children's stories; Fantasy fiction; Imaginary places -- Juvenile fiction
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 him much for telling me
The way he got his wealth,
But chiefly for his wish that he
Might drink my noble health.
And now, 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 she 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,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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