The Complete Alice in Wonderland (38 page)

“And as for
you
,” she went on, turning fiercely upon the Red Queen, whom she considered as the cause of all the mischief—but the Queen was no longer at her side—she had suddenly dwindled down to the size of a little doll, and was now on the table, merrily running round and round after her own shawl, which was trailing behind her.

At any other time, Alice would have felt surprised at this, but she was far too much excited to be surprised at anything now. “As for
you
,” she repeated, catching hold of the little creature in the very act of jumping over a bottle which had just lighted upon the table, “I’ll shake you into a kitten, that I will!”

Chapter X

Shaking

SHE TOOK HER off the table as she spoke, and shook her backwards and forwards with all her might.

The Red Queen made no resistance whatever: only her face grew very small, and her eyes got large and green: and still, as Alice went on shaking her, she kept on growing shorter—and fatter—and softer—and rounder—and—

Chapter XI

Waking

—and it really
was
a kitten, after all.

Chapter XII

Which Dreamed It?

“YOUR RED MAJESTY shouldn’t purr so loud,” Alice said, rubbing her eyes, and addressing the kitten, respectfully, yet with some severity. “You woke me out of oh! such a nice dream! And you’ve been along with me, Kitty—all through the Looking-Glass world. Did you know it, dear?”

It is a very inconvenient habit of kittens (Alice had once made the remark) that, whatever you say to them, they
always
purr. “If they would only purr for ‘yes,’ and mew for ‘no,’ or any rule of that sort,” she had said, “so that one could keep up a conversation! But how
can
you talk with a person if they always say the same thing?”

On this occasion the kitten only purred: and it was impossible to guess whether it meant ‘yes’ or ‘no.’

So Alice hunted among the chessmen on the table till she had found the Red Queen: then she went down on her knees on the hearth-rug, and put the kitten and the Queen to look at each other. “Now, Kitty!” she cried, clapping her hands triumphantly. “Confess that was what you turned into!”

(“But it wouldn’t look at it,” she said, when she was explaining the thing afterwards to her sister: “it turned away its head, and pretended not to see it: but it looked a
little
ashamed of itself, so I think it
must
have been the Red Queen.”)

“Sit up a little more stiffly, dear!” Alice cried with a merry laugh. “And curtsey while you’re thinking what to—what to purr. It saves time, remember!” And she caught it up and gave it one little kiss, “just in honour of its having been a Red Queen.”

“Snowdrop, my pet!” she went on, looking over her shoulder at the White Kitten, which was still patiently undergoing its toilet, “when
will
Dinah have finished with your White Majesty, I wonder? That must be the reason you were so untidy in my dream.—Dinah! Do you know that you’re scrubbing a White Queen? Really, it’s most disrespectful of you!”

“And what did
Dinah
turn to, I wonder?” she prattled on, as she settled comfortably down, with one elbow on the rug, and her chin in her hand, to watch the kittens. “Tell me, Dinah, did you turn to Humpty Dumpty? I
think
you did—however, you’d better not mention it to your friends just yet, for I’m not sure.

“By the way, Kitty, if only you’d been really with me in my dream, there was one thing you
would
have enjoyed—I had such a quantity of poetry said to me, all about fishes! To-morrow morning you shall have a real treat. All the time you’re eating your breakfast, I’ll repeat ‘The Walrus and the Carpenter’ to you; and then you can make believe it’s oysters, my dear!

“Now, Kitty, let’s consider who it was that dreamed it all. This is a serious question, my dear, and you should
not
go on licking your paw like that—as if Dinah hadn’t washed you this morning! You see, Kitty, it
must
have been either me or the Red King. He was part of my dream, of course—but then I was part of his dream, too!
Was
it the Red King, Kitty? You were his wife, my dear, so you ought to know—Oh, Kitty,
do
help to settle it! I’m sure your paw can wait!” But the provoking kitten only began on the other paw, and pretended it hadn’t heard the question.

Which do
you
think it was?

CLOSING POEM

A boat, beneath a sunny sky

Lingering onward dreamily

In an evening of July —

Children three that nestle near,

Eager eye and willing ear,

Pleased a simple tale to hear —

Long has paled that sunny sky:

Echoes fade and memories die:

Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,

Alice moving under skies

Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,

Eager eye and willing ear,

Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,

Dreaming as the days go by,

Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream —

Lingering in the golden gleam —

Life, what is it but a dream?

Introduction

THE FOLLOWING “secret chapter” of
Through the Looking-Glass
was written by Carroll, and readied for publication in 1870. In June of that year, John Tenniel wrote Carroll to recommend excising the incident from the narrative. Carroll, reviewing the episode after Tenniel’s criticism, was inclined to agree. And with that,
The Wasp in a Wig
faded into obscurity for a century.

Carrollian scholars believed that the episode was completely lost. It did not in fact come to light until 1974, when an auction of Carroll’s effects revealed that a typeface copy of the Wasp episode was still in existence. In fact, it even included Carroll’s own written notes and explanation of its removal!

Now that we have the opportunity to review the chapter, we can see why Tenniel recommended that the incident be removed. (Aside from the fact that it was going to be difficult to illustrate, apparently.)
 
The Wasp shares elements of the Gnat and the White Knight, and all of the themes addressed here are driven home with much more sympathy and conviction in the White Knight’s farewell. The writing is by no means poor, but the episode simply seems repetitive when viewed in light of the other chapters.

Nevertheless,
The Wasp in a Wig
is a fascinating piece of Carrollian writing. Alice’s admirable qualities are further explored, the Looking-Glass Land theme of rushing time is heightened, and the character of the Wasp is quite interesting as well. I decided early on that
The Complete Alice in Wonderland
could never truly be complete, without the inclusion of this “lost” chapter. I hope you find it as intriguing as I do!

The Wasp in a Wig

(NOTE: The original episode was intended to be inserted at the end of Chapter VIII, following Alice’s farewell to the White Knight, and preceding Chapter IX, “Queen Alice.”)

...and she was just going to spring over, when she heard a deep sigh, which seemed to come from the wood behind her.

“There’s somebody
very
unhappy there,” she thought, looking anxiously back to see what was the matter. Something like a very old man (only that his face was more like a wasp) was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree, all huddled up together, and shivering as if he were very cold.

“I don’t
think
I can be of any use to him,” was Alice’s first thought, as she turned to spring over the brook:—“but I’ll just ask him what’s the matter,” she added, checking herself on the very edge. “If I once jump over, everything will change, and then I ca’n’t help him.”

So she went back to the Wasp—rather unwillingly, for she was
very
anxious to be a queen.

“Oh, my old bones, my old bones!” he was grumbling as Alice came up to him.

“It’s rheumatism, I should think,” Alice said to herself, and she stooped over him, and said very kindly, “I hope you’re not in much pain?”

The Wasp only shook his shoulders, and turned his head away. “Ah deary me!” he said to himself.