alice-in-metamorpov/adventures-in-wonderland/pig-and-pepper.typ

== Pig and Pepper
For a minute or two pov/s stood looking at the house, and wondering what
to do next, when suddenly a footman in livery came running out of the
wood---(pov/s considered him to be a footman because he was in livery:
otherwise, judging by his face only, pov/s would have called him a
fish)---and rapped loudly at the door with his knuckles. It was opened
by another footman in livery, with a round face, and large eyes like a
frog; and both footmen, pov/S noticed, had powdered hair that curled all
over their heads. Pov/s felt very curious to know what it was all about,
and crept a little way out of the wood to listen.

The Fish-Footman began by producing from under his arm a great letter,
nearly as large as himself, and this he handed over to the other,
saying, in a solemn tone, “For the Duchess. An invitation from the Queen
to play croquet.” The Frog-Footman repeated, in the same solemn tone,
only changing the order of the words a little, “From the Queen. An
invitation for the Duchess to play croquet.”

Then they both bowed low, and their curls got entangled together.

Pov/S laughed so much at this, that pov/s had to run back into the wood
for fear of their hearing pov/o; and when pov/s next peeped out the
Fish-Footman was gone, and the other was sitting on the ground near the
door, staring stupidly up into the sky.

Pov/S went timidly up to the door, and knocked.

“There's no sort of use in knocking,” said the Footman, “and that for
two reasons. First, because I'm on the same side of the door as you are;
secondly, because they're making such a noise inside, no one could
possibly hear you.” And certainly there #emph[was] a most extraordinary
noise going on within---a constant howling and sneezing, and every now
and then a great crash, as if a dish or kettle had been broken to
pieces.

“Please, then,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said pov/S/,
“how am I to get in?”

“There might be some sense in your knocking,” the Footman went on
without attending to pov/o, “if we had the door between us. For
instance, if you were #emph[inside];, you might knock, and I could let
you out, you know.” He was looking up into the sky all the time he was
speaking, and this pov/S thought decidedly uncivil. “But perhaps he
can't help it,” pov/s said to pov/r; “his eyes are so #emph[very] nearly
at the top of his head. But at any rate he might answer questions.---How
am I to get in?” pov/s repeated, aloud.

“I shall sit here,” the Footman remarked, “till tomorrow---”

At this moment the door of the house opened, and a large plate came
skimming out, straight at the Footman's head: it just grazed his nose,
and broke to pieces against one of the trees behind him.

“---or next day, maybe,” the Footman continued in the same tone, exactly
as if nothing had happened.

“How am I to get in?” alt/first and second or third/pov/S asked/asked
pov/S/ again, in a louder tone.

“#emph[Are] you to get in at all?” said the Footman. “That's the first
question, you know.”

It was, no doubt: only pov/S did not like to be told so. “It's really
dreadful,” pov/s muttered to pov/r, “the way all the creatures argue.
It's enough to drive one crazy!”

The Footman seemed to think this a good opportunity for repeating his
remark, with variations. “I shall sit here,” he said, “on and off, for
days and days.”

“But what am #emph[I] to do?” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/.

“Anything you like,” said the Footman, and began whistling.

“Oh, there's no use in talking to him,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/ desperately: “he's perfectly idiotic!” And
pov/s opened the door and went in.

The door led right into a large kitchen, which was full of smoke from
one end to the other: the Duchess was sitting on a three-legged stool in
the middle, nursing a baby; the cook was leaning over the fire, stirring
a large cauldron which seemed to be full of soup.

“There's certainly too much pepper in that soup!” pov/S said to pov/r,
as well as pov/s could for sneezing.

There was certainly too much of it in the air. Even the Duchess sneezed
occasionally; and as for the baby, it was sneezing and howling
alternately without a moment's pause. The only things in the kitchen
that did not sneeze, were the cook, and a large cat which was sitting on
the hearth and grinning from ear to ear.

“Please would you tell me,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/, a little timidly, for pov/s vrb/be/ not quite sure
whether it was good manners for pov/o to speak first, “why your cat
grins like that?”

“It's a Cheshire cat,” said the Duchess, “and that's why. Pig!”

She said the last word with such sudden violence that pov/S quite
jumped; but pov/s saw in another moment that it was addressed to the
baby, and not to pov/o, so she took courage, and went on again:---

“I didn't know that Cheshire cats always grinned; in fact, I didn't know
that cats #emph[could] grin.”

“They all can,” said the Duchess; “and most of 'em do.”

“I don't know of any that do,” pov/S said very politely, feeling quite
pleased to have got into a conversation.

“You don't know much,” said the Duchess; “and that's a fact.”

Pov/S did not at all like the tone of this remark, and thought it would
be as well to introduce some other subject of conversation. While pov/s
vrb/be/ trying to fix on one, the cook took the cauldron of soup off the
fire, and at once set to work throwing everything within her reach at
the Duchess and the baby---the fire-irons came first; then followed a
shower of saucepans, plates, and dishes. The Duchess took no notice of
them even when they hit her; and the baby was howling so much already,
that it was quite impossible to say whether the blows hurt it or not.

“Oh, #emph[please] mind what you're doing!” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S cried/cried pov/S/, jumping up and down in an agony of
terror. “Oh, there goes his #emph[precious] nose!” as an unusually large
saucepan flew close by it, and very nearly carried it off.

“If everybody minded their own business,” the Duchess said in a hoarse
growl, “the world would go round a deal faster than it does.”

“Which would #emph[not] be an advantage,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/, who felt very glad to get an opportunity
of showing off a little of pov/p knowledge. “Just think of what work it
would make with the day and night! You see the earth takes twenty-four
hours to turn round on its axis---”

“Talking of axes,” said the Duchess, “chop off prn/p head!”

Pov/S glanced rather anxiously at the cook, to see if she meant to take
the hint; but the cook was busily stirring the soup, and seemed not to
be listening, so she went on again: “Twenty-four hours, I #emph[think];;
or is it twelve? I---”

“Oh, don't bother #emph[me];,” said the Duchess; “I never could abide
figures!” And with that she began nursing her child again, singing a
sort of lullaby to it as she did so, and giving it a violent shake at
the end of every line:

#include "poems/speak-roughly-to-your-little-boy-part-1.typ"

While the Duchess sang the second verse of the song, she kept tossing
the baby violently up and down, and the poor little thing howled so,
that pov/S could hardly hear the words:---

#include "poems/speak-roughly-to-your-little-boy-part-2.typ"

“Here! you may nurse it a bit, if you like!” the Duchess said to pov/O,
flinging the baby at pov/o as she spoke. “I must go and get ready to
play croquet with the Queen,” and she hurried out of the room. The cook
threw a frying-pan after her as she went out, but it just missed her.

Pov/S caught the baby with some difficulty, as it was a queer-shaped
little creature, and held out its arms and legs in all directions, “just
like a star-fish,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S thought/thought
pov/S/. The poor little thing was snorting like a steam-engine when
pov/s caught it, and kept doubling itself up and straightening itself
out again, so that altogether, for the first minute or two, it was as
much as pov/s could do to hold it.

As soon as pov/s had made out the proper way of nursing it, (which was
to twist it up into a sort of knot, and then keep tight hold of its
right ear and left foot, so as to prevent its undoing itself,) pov/s
carried it out into the open air. “If I don't take this child away with
me,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S thought/thought pov/S/,
“they're sure to kill it in a day or two: wouldn't it be murder to leave
it behind?” Pov/s said the last words out loud, and the little thing
grunted in reply (it had left off sneezing by this time). “Don't grunt,”
pov/S said; “that's not at all a proper way of expressing yourself.”

The baby grunted again, and pov/S looked very anxiously into its face to
see what was the matter with it. There could be no doubt that it had a
#emph[very] turn-up nose, much more like a snout than a real nose; also
its eyes were getting extremely small for a baby: altogether pov/S did
not like the look of the thing at all. “But perhaps it was only
sobbing,” pov/s thought, and looked into its eyes again, to see if there
were any tears.

No, there were no tears. “If you're going to turn into a pig, my dear,”
alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said pov/S/, seriously, “I'll
have nothing more to do with you. Mind now!” The poor little thing
sobbed again (or grunted, it was impossible to say which), and they went
on for some while in silence.

Pov/S vrB/be/ just beginning to think to pov/r, “Now, what am I to do
with this creature when I get it home?” when it grunted again, so
violently, that pov/s looked down into its face in some alarm. This time
there could be #emph[no] mistake about it: it was neither more nor less
than a pig, and pov/s felt that it would be quite absurd for pov/o to
carry it further.

So pov/s set the little creature down, and felt quite relieved to see it
trot away quietly into the wood. “If it had grown up,” pov/s said to
pov/r, “it would have made a dreadfully ugly child: but it makes rather
a handsome pig, I think.” And pov/s began thinking over other children
she knew, who might do very well as pigs, and was just saying to pov/r,
“if one only knew the right way to change them---” when pov/s was a
little startled by seeing the Cheshire Cat sitting on a bough of a tree
a few yards off.

The Cat only grinned when it saw pov/S. It looked good-natured, pov/s
thought: still it had #emph[very] long claws and a great many teeth, so
pov/s felt that it ought to be treated with respect.

“Cheshire Puss,” pov/s began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know
whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider.
“Come, it's pleased so far,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
thought/thought pov/S/, and pov/s went on. “Would you tell me, please,
which way I ought to go from here?”

“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat.

“I don't much care where---” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/.

“Then it doesn't matter which way you go,” said the Cat.

“---so long as I get #emph[somewhere];,” pov/S added as an explanation.

“Oh, you're sure to do that,” said the Cat, “if you only walk long
enough.”

Pov/S felt that this could not be denied, so pov/s tried another
question. “What sort of people live about here?”

“In #emph[that] direction,” the Cat said, waving its right paw round,
“lives a Hatter: and in #emph[that] direction,” waving the other paw,
“lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad.”

“But I don't want to go among mad people,” pov/S remarked.

“Oh, you can't help that,” said the Cat: “we're all mad here. I'm mad.
You're mad.”

“How do you know I'm mad?” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said
pov/S/.

“You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn't have come here.”

Pov/S didn't think that proved it at all; however, pov/s went on “And
how do you know that you're mad?”

“To begin with,” said the Cat, “a dog's not mad. You grant that?”

“I suppose so,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said pov/S/.

“Well, then,” the Cat went on, “you see, a dog growls when it's angry,
and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now #emph[I] growl when I'm
pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad.”

“#emph[I] call it purring, not growling,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/.

“Call it what you like,” said the Cat. “Do you play croquet with the
Queen to-day?”

“I should like it very much,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/, “but I haven't been invited yet.”

“You'll see me there,” said the Cat, and vanished.

Pov/S was not much surprised at this, pov/s was getting so used to queer
things happening. While pov/s vrb/be/ looking at the place where it had
been, it suddenly appeared again.

“By-the-bye, what became of the baby?” said the Cat. “I'd nearly
forgotten to ask.”

“It turned into a pig,” pov/S quietly said, just as if it had come back
in a natural way.

“I thought it would,” said the Cat, and vanished again.

Pov/S waited a little, half expecting to see it again, but it did not
appear, and after a minute or two pov/s walked on in the direction in
which the March Hare was said to live. “I've seen hatters before,” pov/s
said to pov/r; “the March Hare will be much the most interesting, and
perhaps as this is May it won't be raving mad---at least not so mad as
it was in March.” As pov/s said this, pov/s looked up, and there was the
Cat again, sitting on a branch of a tree.

“Did you say pig, or fig?” said the Cat.

“I said pig,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S replied/replied
pov/S/; “and I wish you wouldn't keep appearing and vanishing so
suddenly: you make one quite giddy.”

“All right,” said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite slowly,
beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the grin, which
remained some time after the rest of it had gone.

“Well! I've often seen a cat without a grin,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S thought/thought pov/S/; “but a grin without a cat! It's the
most curious thing I ever saw in my life!”

Pov/s had not gone much farther before pov/s came in sight of the house
of the March Hare: pov/s thought it must be the right house, because the
chimneys were shaped like ears and the roof was thatched with fur. It
was so large a house, that pov/s did not like to go nearer till pov/s
had nibbled some more of the lefthand bit of mushroom, and raised pov/r
to about two feet high: even then pov/s walked up towards it rather
timidly, saying to pov/r “Suppose it should be raving mad after all! I
almost wish I'd gone to see the Hatter instead!”