The Complete Alice in Wonderland (49 page)

“What do you mean by that?” said the caterpillar, “explain yourself!”

“I ca’n’t explain
myself
, I’m afraid, sir,” said Alice, “because I’m not myself, you see.”

“I don’t see,” said the caterpillar.

“I’m afraid I ca’n’t put it more clearly,” Alice replied very politely, “for I ca’n’t understand it myself, and really to be so many different sizes in one day is very confusing.”

“It isn’t,” said the caterpillar.

“Well, perhaps you haven’t found it so yet,” said Alice, “but when you have to turn into a chrysalis, you know, and then after that into a butterfly, I should think it’ll feel a little queer, don’t you think so?”

“Not a bit,” said the caterpillar.

“All I know is,” said Alice, “it would feel queer to
me
.”

“
You
!” said the caterpillar contemptuously, “who are you?”

Which brought them back again to the beginning of the conversation: Alice felt a little irritated at the caterpillar making such
very
short remarks, and she drew herself up and said very gravely “I think you ought to tell me who
you
are, first.”

“Why?” said the caterpillar.

Here was another puzzling question: and as Alice had no reason ready, and the caterpillar seemed to be in a
very
bad temper, she turned round and walked away.

“Come back!” the caterpillar called after her, “I’ve something important to say!”

This sounded promising: Alice turned and came back.

“Keep your temper,” said the caterpillar.

“Is that all?” said Alice, swallowing down her anger as well as she could.

“No,” said the caterpillar.

Alice thought she might as well wait, as she had nothing else to do, and perhaps after all the caterpillar might tell her something worth hearing. For some minutes it puffed away at its hookah without speaking, but at last it unfolded its arms, took the hookah out of its mouth again, and said, “so you think you’re changed, do you?”

“Yes, sir,” said Alice, “I ca’n’t remember the things I used to know—I’ve tried to say “How doth the little busy bee” and it came all different!”

“Try and repeat ‘You are old, father William,’” said the caterpillar.

Alice folded her hands, and began:

1.

“You are old, father William,” the young man said,

“And your hair is exceedingly white:

And yet you incessantly stand on your head—

Do you think, at your age, it is right?”

2.

“In my youth,” father William replied to his son,

“I feared it
might
injure the brain:

But now that I’m perfectly sure I have none,

Why, I do it again and again.”

3.

“You are old,” said the youth,” as I mentioned before,

“And have grown most uncommonly fat:

Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door—

Pray what is the reason of that?”

4.

“In my youth,” said the sage, as he shook his gray locks,

“I kept all my limbs very supple.

By the use of this ointment, five shillings the box—

Allow me to sell you a couple.”

5.

“You are old,” said the youth,” and your jaws are too weak

“For anything tougher than suet:

Yet you eat all the goose, with the bones and the beak—

Pray, how did you manage to do it?”

6.

“In my youth,” said the old man, “I took to the law,

And argued each case with my wife,

And
the muscular strength
,
which it gave to my jaw
,

Has lasted the rest of my life.”

7.

“You are old,” said the youth, “one would hardly suppose

That your eye was as steady as ever:

Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose—

What made you so
awfully
clever?”

8.

“I have answered three questions, and that is enough,”

Said his father, “don’t give yourself airs!

“Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?

Be off, or I’ll kick you down stairs!”

“Not
quite
right, I’m afraid,” said Alice timidly, “some of the words have got altered.”

“It is wrong from beginning to end,” said the caterpillar decidedly, and there was silence for some minutes: the caterpillar was the first to speak.

“What size do you want to be?” it asked.

“Oh, I’m not particular as to size,” Alice hastily replied, “only one doesn’t like changing so often, you know.”

“Are you content now?” said the caterpillar.

“Well, I should like to be a
little
larger, sir, if you wouldn’t mind,” said Alice, “three inches is such a wretched height to be.”

“It is a very good height indeed!” said the caterpillar loudly and angrily, rearing itself straight up as it spoke (it was exactly three inches high).

“But I’m not used to it!” pleaded poor Alice in a piteous tone, and she thought to herself “I wish the creatures wouldn’t be so easily offended!”

“You’ll get used to it in time,” said the caterpillar, and it put the hookah into its mouth, and began smoking again.

This time Alice waited quietly until it chose to speak again: in a few minutes the caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and got down off the mushroom, and crawled away into the grass, merely remarking as it went: “the top will make you grow taller, and the stalk will make you grow shorter.”

“The top of
what
? the stalk of
what
?” thought Alice.

“Of the mushroom,” said the caterpillar, just as if she had asked it aloud, and in another moment it was out of sight.

Alice remained looking thoughtfully at the mushroom for a minute, and then picked it and carefully broke it in two, taking the stalk in one hand and the top in the other.

“
Which
does the stalk do?” she said, and nibbled a little bit of it to try: the next moment she felt a violent blow on her chin: it had struck her foot!

She was a good deal frightened by this very sudden change, but as she did not shrink any further, and had not dropped the top of the mushroom, she did not give up hope yet. There was hardly room to open her mouth, with her chin pressing against her foot, but she did it at last, and managed to bite off a little bit of the top of the mushroom.

“Come! my head’s free at last!” said Alice in a tone of delight, which changed into alarm in another moment, when she found that her shoulders were nowhere to be seen: she looked down upon an immense length of neck, which seemed to rise like a stalk out of a sea of green leaves that lay far below her.

“What
can
all that green stuff be?” said Alice, “and where
have
my shoulders got to? And oh! my poor hands! how is it I ca’n’t see you?” She was moving them about as she spoke, but no result seemed to follow, except a little rustling among the leaves. Then she tried to bring her head down to her hands, and was delighted to find that her neck would bend about easily in every direction, like a serpent. She had just succeeded in bending it down in a beautiful zig-zag, and was going to dive in among the leaves, which she found to be the tops of the trees of the wood she had been wandering in, when a sharp hiss made her draw back: a large pigeon had flown into her face, and was violently beating her with its wings.