alice-in-metamorpov/through-the-looking-glass/the-garden-of-live-flowers.typ

== The Garden of Live Flowers
“I should see the garden far better,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/ to pov/r, “if I could get to the top of
that hill: and here's a path that leads straight to it---at least, no,
it doesn't do that---” (after going a few yards along the path, and
turning several sharp corners), “but I suppose it will at last. But how
curiously it twists! It's more like a corkscrew than a path! Well,
#emph[this] turn goes to the hill, I suppose---no, it doesn't! This goes
straight back to the house! Well then, I'll try it the other way.”

And so pov/s did: wandering up and down, and trying turn after turn, but
always coming back to the house, do what pov/s would. Indeed, once, when
pov/s turned a corner rather more quickly than usual, pov/s ran against
it before pov/s could stop pov/r.

“It's no use talking about it,” pov/S said, looking up at the house and
pretending it was arguing with pov/o. “I'm #emph[not] going in again
yet. I know I should have to get through the Looking-glass again---back
into the old room---and there'd be an end of all my adventures!”

So, resolutely turning pov/p back upon the house, pov/s set out once
more down the path, determined to keep straight on till pov/s got to the
hill. For a few minutes all went on well, and pov/s vrb/be/ just saying,
“I really #emph[shall] do it this time---” when the path gave a sudden
twist and shook itself (as pov/s described it afterwards), and the next
moment pov/s found herself actually walking in at the door.

“Oh, it's too bad!” pov/s cried. “I never saw such a house for getting
in the way! Never!”

However, there was the hill full in sight, so there was nothing to be
done but start again. This time pov/s came upon a large flower-bed, with
a border of daisies, and a willow-tree growing in the middle.

“O Tiger-lily,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said pov/S/,
addressing pov/r to one that was waving gracefully about in the wind, “I
#emph[wish] you could talk!”

“We #emph[can] talk,” said the Tiger-lily: “when there's anybody worth
talking to.”

Pov/S was so astonished that pov/s could not speak for a minute: it
quite seemed to take pov/o breath away. At length, as the Tiger-lily
only went on waving about, pov/s spoke again, in a timid voice---almost
in a whisper. “And can #emph[all] the flowers talk?”

“As well as #emph[you] can,” said the Tiger-lily. “And a great deal
louder.”

“It isn't manners for us to begin, you know,” said the Rose, “and I
really was wondering when you'd speak! Said I to myself, ‘Prn/p face has
got #emph[some] sense in it, though it's not a clever one!' Still,
you're the right colour, and that goes a long way.”

“I don't care about the colour,” the Tiger-lily remarked. “If only prn/p
petals curled up a little more, prn/s'd be all right.”

Pov/S didn't like being criticised, so pov/s began asking questions.
“Aren't you sometimes frightened at being planted out here, with nobody
to take care of you?”

“There's the tree in the middle,” said the Rose: “what else is it good
for?”

“But what could it do, if any danger came?” pov/S asked.

“It says ‘Bough-wough!'” cried a Daisy: “that's why its branches are
called boughs!”

“Didn't you know #emph[that];?” cried another Daisy, and here they all
began shouting together, till the air seemed quite full of little shrill
voices. “Silence, every one of you!” cried the Tiger-lily, waving itself
passionately from side to side, and trembling with excitement. “They
know I can't get at them!” it panted, bending its quivering head towards
pov/S, “or they wouldn't dare to do it!”

“Never mind!” pov/S said in a soothing tone, and stooping down to the
daisies, who were just beginning again, pov/s whispered, “If you don't
hold your tongues, I'll pick you!”

There was silence in a moment, and several of the pink daisies turned
white.

“That's right!” said the Tiger-lily. “The daisies are worst of all. When
one speaks, they all begin together, and it's enough to make one wither
to hear the way they go on!”

“How is it you can all talk so nicely?” pov/S said, hoping to get it
into a better temper by a compliment. “I've been in many gardens before,
but none of the flowers could talk.”

“Put your hand down, and feel the ground,” said the Tiger-lily. “Then
you'll know why.”

Pov/S did so. “It's very hard,” pov/s said, “but I don't see what that
has to do with it.”

“In most gardens,” the Tiger-lily said, “they make the beds too
soft---so that the flowers are always asleep.”

This sounded a very good reason, and pov/S vrb/be/ quite pleased to know
it. “I never thought of that before!” pov/s said.

“It's #emph[my] opinion that you never think #emph[at all];,” the Rose
said in a rather severe tone.

“I never saw anybody that looked stupider,” a Violet said, so suddenly,
that pov/S quite jumped; for it hadn't spoken before.

“Hold #emph[your] tongue!” cried the Tiger-lily. “As if #emph[you] ever
saw anybody! You keep your head under the leaves, and snore away there,
till you know no more what's going on in the world, than if you were a
bud!”

“Are there any more people in the garden besides me?” pov/S said, not
choosing to notice the Rose's last remark.

“There's one other flower in the garden that can move about like you,”
said the Rose. “I wonder how you do it---” (“You're always wondering,”
said the Tiger-lily), “but she's more bushy than you are.”

“Is she like me?” pov/S asked eagerly, for the thought crossed pov/s
mind, “There's ife/prn/n is girl/another/a/ little girl in the garden,
somewhere!”

“Well, she has the same awkward shape as you,” the Rose said, “but she's
redder---and her petals are shorter, I think.”

“Her petals are done up close, almost like a dahlia,” the Tiger-lily
interrupted: “not tumbled about anyhow, like yours.”

“But that's not #emph[your] fault,” the Rose added kindly: “you're
beginning to fade, you know---and then one can't help one's petals
getting a little untidy.”

Pov/S didn't like this idea at all: so, to change the subject, pov/s
asked “Does she ever come out here?”

“I daresay you'll see her soon,” said the Rose. “She's one of the thorny
kind.”

“Where does she wear the thorns?” pov/S asked with some curiosity.

“Why all round her head, of course,” the Rose replied. “I was wondering
#emph[you] hadn't got some too. I thought it was the regular rule.”

“She's coming!” cried the Larkspur. “I hear her footstep, thump, thump,
thump, along the gravel-walk!”

Pov/S looked round eagerly, and found that it was the Red Queen. “She's
grown a good deal!” was pov/p first remark. She had indeed: when pov/S
first found her in the ashes, she had been only three inches high---and
here she was, half a head taller than pov/S pov/r!

“It's the fresh air that does it,” said the Rose: “wonderfully fine air
it is, out here.”

“I think I'll go and meet her,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/, for, though the flowers were interesting enough, pov/s
felt that it would be far grander to have a talk with a real Queen.

“You can't possibly do that,” said the Rose: “#emph[I] should advise you
to walk the other way.”

This sounded nonsense to pov/O, so pov/s said nothing, but set off at
once towards the Red Queen. To pov/p surprise, pov/s lost sight of her
in a moment, and found pov/r walking in at the front-door again.

A little provoked, pov/s drew back, and after looking everywhere for the
queen (whom pov/s spied out at last, a long way off), pov/s thought she
would try the plan, this time, of walking in the opposite direction.

It succeeded beautifully. Pov/s had not been walking a minute before
pov/s found pov/r face to face with the Red Queen, and full in sight of
the hill pov/s had been so long aiming at.

“Where do you come from?” said the Red Queen. “And where are you going?
Look up, speak nicely, and don't twiddle your fingers all the time.”

Pov/S attended to all these directions, and explained, as well as pov/s
could, that pov/s had lost pov/p way.

“I don't know what you mean by #emph[your] way,” said the Queen: “all
the ways about here belong to #emph[me];---but why did you come out here
at all?” she added in a kinder tone. “Curtsey while you're thinking what
to say, it saves time.”

Pov/S wondered a little at this, but pov/s was too much in awe of the
Queen to disbelieve it. “I'll try it when I go home,” pov/s thought to
pov/r, “the next time I'm a little late for dinner.”

“It's time for you to answer now,” the Queen said, looking at her watch:
“open your mouth a #emph[little] wider when you speak, and always say
‘your Majesty.'”

“I only wanted to see what the garden was like, your Majesty---”

“That's right,” said the Queen, patting pov/o on the head, which pov/S
didn't like at all, “though, when you say ‘garden,'---#emph[I've] seen
gardens, compared with which this would be a wilderness.”

Pov/S didn't dare to argue the point, but went on: “---and I thought I'd
try and find my way to the top of that hill---”

“When you say ‘hill,'” the Queen interrupted, “#emph[I] could show you
hills, in comparison with which you'd call that a valley.”

“No, I shouldn't,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said pov/S/,
surprised into contradicting her at last: “a hill #emph[can't] be a
valley, you know. That would be nonsense---”

The Red Queen shook her head, “You may call it ‘nonsense' if you like,”
she said, “but #emph[I've] heard nonsense, compared with which that
would be as sensible as a dictionary!”

Pov/S curtseyed again, as pov/s vrb/be/ afraid from the Queen's tone
that she was a #emph[little] offended: and they walked on in silence
till they got to the top of the little hill.

For some minutes pov/S stood without speaking, looking out in all
directions over the country---and a most curious country it was. There
were a number of tiny little brooks running straight across it from side
to side, and the ground between was divided up into squares by a number
of little green hedges, that reached from brook to brook.

“I declare it's marked out just like a large chessboard!” pov/S said at
last. “There ought to be some men moving about somewhere---and so there
are!” Pov/s added in a tone of delight, and pov/p heart began to beat
quick with excitement as pov/s went on. “It's a great huge game of chess
that's being played---all over the world---if this #emph[is] the world
at all, you know. Oh, what fun it is! How I #emph[wish] I was one of
them! I wouldn't mind being a Pawn, if only I might join---though of
course I should #emph[like] to be a/an also/Queen, best.”

Pov/s glanced rather shyly at the real Queen as pov/s said this, but
pov/p companion only smiled pleasantly, and said, “That's easily
managed. You can be the White Queen's Pawn, if you like, as Lily's too
young to play; and you're in the Second Square to begin with: when you
get to the Eighth Square you'll be a/an also/Queen---” Just at this
moment, somehow or other, they began to run.

Pov/S never could quite make out, in thinking it over afterwards, how it
was that they began: all pov/s remembers is, that they were running hand
in hand, and the Queen went so fast that it was all pov/s could do to
keep up with her: and still the Queen kept crying “Faster! Faster!” but
pov/S felt she #emph[could not] go faster, though pov/s had not breath
left to say so.

The most curious part of the thing was, that the trees and the other
things round them never changed their places at all: however fast they
went, they never seemed to pass anything. “I wonder if all the things
move along with us?” thought poor puzzled pov/O. And the Queen seemed to
guess pov/p thoughts, for she cried, “Faster! Don't try to talk!”

Not that pov/S had any idea of doing #emph[that];. Pov/s felt as if
pov/s would never be able to talk again, pov/s vrb/be/ getting so much
out of breath: and still the Queen cried “Faster! Faster!” and dragged
pov/o along. “Are we nearly there?” Pov/S managed to pant out at last.

“Nearly there!” the Queen repeated. “Why, we passed it ten minutes ago!
Faster!” And they ran on for a time in silence, with the wind whistling
in pov/P ears, and almost blowing pov/p hair off pov/p head, pov/s
fancied.

“Now! Now!” cried the Queen. “Faster! Faster!” And they went so fast
that at last they seemed to skim through the air, hardly touching the
ground with their feet, till suddenly, just as pov/S vrb/be/ getting
quite exhausted, they stopped, and pov/s found pov/r sitting on the
ground, breathless and giddy.

The Queen propped pov/s up against a tree, and said kindly, “You may
rest a little now.”

Pov/S looked round her in great surprise. “Why, I do believe we've been
under this tree the whole time! Everything's just as it was!”

“Of course it is,” said the Queen, “what would you have it?”

“Well, in #emph[our] country,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/, still panting a little, “you'd generally get to
somewhere else---if you ran very fast for a long time, as we've been
doing.”

“A slow sort of country!” said the Queen. “Now, #emph[here];, you see,
it takes all the running #emph[you] can do, to keep in the same place.
If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast
as that!”

“I'd rather not try, please!” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/. “I'm quite content to stay here---only I #emph[am] so
hot and thirsty!”

“I know what #emph[you'd] like!” the Queen said good-naturedly, taking a
little box out of her pocket. “Have a biscuit?”

Pov/S thought it would not be civil to say “No,” though it wasn't at all
what pov/s wanted. So pov/s took it, and ate it as well as she could:
and it was #emph[very] dry; and pov/s thought pov/s had never been so
nearly choked in all her life.

“While you're refreshing yourself,” said the Queen, “I'll just take the
measurements.” And she took a ribbon out of her pocket, marked in
inches, and began measuring the ground, and sticking little pegs in here
and there.

“At the end of two yards,” she said, putting in a peg to mark the
distance, “I shall give you your directions---have another biscuit?”

“No, thank you,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said pov/S/:
“one's #emph[quite] enough!”

“Thirst quenched, I hope?” said the Queen.

Pov/S did not know what to say to this, but luckily the Queen did not
wait for an answer, but went on. “At the end of #emph[three] yards I
shall repeat them---for fear of your forgetting them. At the end of
#emph[four];, I shall say good-bye. And at the end of #emph[five];, I
shall go!”

She had got all the pegs put in by this time, and pov/S looked on with
great interest as she returned to the tree, and then began slowly
walking down the row.

At the two-yard peg she faced round, and said, “A pawn goes two squares
in its first move, you know. So you'll go #emph[very] quickly through
the Third Square---by railway, I should think---and you'll find yourself
in the Fourth Square in no time. Well, #emph[that] square belongs to
Tweedledum and Tweedledee---the Fifth is mostly water---the Sixth
belongs to Humpty Dumpty---But you make no remark?”

“I---I didn't know I had to make one---just then,” pov/S faltered out.

“You #emph[should] have said, ‘It's extremely kind of you to tell me all
this'---however, we'll suppose it said---the Seventh Square is all
forest---however, one of the Knights will show you the way---and in the
Eighth Square we shall be Queens together, and it's all feasting and
fun!” pov/S got up and curtseyed, and sat down again.

At the next peg the Queen turned again, and this time she said, “Speak
in French when you can't think of the English for a thing---turn out
your toes as you walk---and remember who you are!” She did not wait for
pov/O to curtsey this time, but walked on quickly to the next peg, where
she turned for a moment to say “good-bye,” and then hurried on to the
last.

How it happened, pov/S never knew, but exactly as she came to the last
peg, she was gone. Whether she vanished into the air, or whether she ran
quickly into the wood (“and she #emph[can] run very fast!” alt/first and
second or third/pov/S thought/thought pov/S/), there was no way of
guessing, but she was gone, and pov/S began to remember that pov/s was a
Pawn, and that it would soon be time for her to move.