alice-in-metamorpov/through-the-looking-glass/the-lion-and-the-unicorn.typ

== The Lion and the Unicorn
The next moment soldiers came running through the wood, at first in twos
and threes, then ten or twenty together, and at last in such crowds that
they seemed to fill the whole forest. Pov/S got behind a tree, for fear
of being run over, and watched them go by.

Pov/s thought that in all pov/p life pov/s had never seen soldiers so
uncertain on their feet: they were always tripping over something or
other, and whenever one went down, several more always fell over him, so
that the ground was soon covered with little heaps of men.

Then came the horses. Having four feet, these managed rather better than
the foot-soldiers: but even #emph[they] stumbled now and then; and it
seemed to be a regular rule that, whenever a horse stumbled the rider
fell off instantly. The confusion got worse every moment, and pov/S
vrB/be/ very glad to get out of the wood into an open place, where pov/s
found the White King seated on the ground, busily writing in his
memorandum-book.

“I've sent them all!” the King cried in a tone of delight, on seeing
pov/O. “Did you happen to meet any soldiers, my dear, as you came
through the wood?”

“Yes, I did,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said pov/S/:
“several thousand, I should think.”

“Four thousand two hundred and seven, that's the exact number,” the King
said, referring to his book. “I couldn't send all the horses, you know,
because two of them are wanted in the game. And I haven't sent the two
Messengers, either. They're both gone to the town. Just look along the
road, and tell me if you can see either of them.”

“I see nobody on the road,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/.

“I only wish #emph[I] had such eyes,” the King remarked in a fretful
tone. “To be able to see Nobody! And at that distance, too! Why, it's as
much as #emph[I] can do to see real people, by this light!”

All this was lost on pov/O, who was still looking intently along the
road, shading pov/p eyes with one hand. “I see somebody now!” pov/s
exclaimed at last. “But he's coming very slowly---and what curious
attitudes he goes into!” (For the messenger kept skipping up and down,
and wriggling like an eel, as he came along, with his great hands spread
out like fans on each side.)

“Not at all,” said the King. “He's an Anglo-Saxon Messenger---and those
are Anglo-Saxon attitudes. He only does them when he's happy. His name
is Haigha.” (He pronounced it so as to rhyme with “mayor.”)

“I love my love with an H,” pov/S couldn't help beginning, “because he
is Happy. I hate him with an H, because he is Hideous. I fed him
with---with---with Ham-sandwiches and Hay. His name is Haigha, and he
lives---”

“He lives on the Hill,” the King remarked simply, without the least idea
that he was joining in the game, while pov/S vrB/be/ still hesitating
for the name of a town beginning with H. “The other Messenger's called
Hatta. I must have #emph[two];, you know---to come and go. One to come,
and one to go.”

“I beg your pardon?” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said
pov/S/.

“It isn't respectable to beg,” said the King.

“I only meant that I didn't understand,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/. “Why one to come and one to go?”

“Didn't I tell you?” the King repeated impatiently. “I must have
#emph[two];---to fetch and carry. One to fetch, and one to carry.”

At this moment the Messenger arrived: he was far too much out of breath
to say a word, and could only wave his hands about, and make the most
fearful faces at the poor King.

“This young also/lady loves you with an H,” the King said, introducing
pov/O in the hope of turning off the Messenger's attention from
himself---but it was no use---the Anglo-Saxon attitudes only got more
extraordinary every moment, while the great eyes rolled wildly from side
to side.

“You alarm me!” said the King. “I feel faint---Give me a ham sandwich!”

On which the Messenger, to pov/P great amusement, opened a bag that hung
round his neck, and handed a sandwich to the King, who devoured it
greedily.

“Another sandwich!” said the King.

“There's nothing but hay left now,” the Messenger said, peeping into the
bag.

“Hay, then,” the King murmured in a faint whisper.

Pov/S vrB/be/ glad to see that it revived him a good deal. “There's
nothing like eating hay when you're faint,” he remarked to pov/o, as he
munched away.

“I should think throwing cold water over you would be better,” pov/S
suggested: “or some sal-volatile.”

“I didn't say there was nothing #emph[better];,” the King replied. “I
said there was nothing #emph[like] it.” Which pov/S did not venture to
deny.

“Who did you pass on the road?” the King went on, holding out his hand
to the Messenger for some more hay.

“Nobody,” said the Messenger.

“Quite right,” said the King: “this young also/lady saw him too. So of
course Nobody walks slower than you.”

“I do my best,” the Messenger said in a sulky tone. “I'm sure nobody
walks much faster than I do!”

“He can't do that,” said the King, “or else he'd have been here first.
However, now you've got your breath, you may tell us what's happened in
the town.”

“I'll whisper it,” said the Messenger, putting his hands to his mouth in
the shape of a trumpet, and stooping so as to get close to the King's
ear. Pov/S vrB/be/ sorry for this, as pov/s wanted to hear the news too.
However, instead of whispering, he simply shouted at the top of his
voice “They're at it again!”

“Do you call #emph[that] a whisper?” cried the poor King, jumping up and
shaking himself. “If you do such a thing again, I'll have you buttered!
It went through and through my head like an earthquake!”

“It would have to be a very tiny earthquake!” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S thought/thought pov/S/. “Who are at it again?” pov/s
ventured to ask.

“Why the Lion and the Unicorn, of course,” said the King.

“Fighting for the crown?”

“Yes, to be sure,” said the King: “and the best of the joke is, that
it's #emph[my] crown all the while! Let's run and see them.” And they
trotted off, pov/O repeating to pov/r, as pov/s ran, the words of the
old song:---

#include "poems/the-lion-and-the-unicorn.typ"

“Does---the one---that wins---get the crown?” pov/s asked, as well as
pov/s could, for the run was putting pov/o quite out of breath.

“Dear me, no!” said the King. “What an idea!”

“Would you---be good enough,” pov/S panted out, after running a little
further, “to stop a minute---just to get---one's breath again?”

“I'm #emph[good] enough,” the King said, “only I'm not strong enough.
You see, a minute goes by so fearfully quick. You might as well try to
stop a Bandersnatch!”

Pov/S had no more breath for talking, so they trotted on in silence,
till they came in sight of a great crowd, in the middle of which the
Lion and Unicorn were fighting. They were in such a cloud of dust, that
at first pov/S could not make out which was which: but pov/s soon
managed to distinguish the Unicorn by his horn.

They placed themselves close to where Hatta, the other messenger, was
standing watching the fight, with a cup of tea in one hand and a piece
of bread-and-butter in the other.

“He's only just out of prison, and he hadn't finished his tea when he
was sent in,” Haigha whispered to pov/O: “and they only give them
oyster-shells in there---so you see he's very hungry and thirsty. How
are you, dear child?” he went on, putting his arm affectionately round
Hatta's neck.

Hatta looked round and nodded, and went on with his bread and butter.

“Were you happy in prison, dear child?” said Haigha.

Hatta looked round once more, and this time a tear or two trickled down
his cheek: but not a word would he say.

“Speak, can't you!” Haigha cried impatiently. But Hatta only munched
away, and drank some more tea.

“Speak, won't you!” cried the King. “How are they getting on with the
fight?”

Hatta made a desperate effort, and swallowed a large piece of
bread-and-butter. “They're getting on very well,” he said in a choking
voice: “each of them has been down about eighty-seven times.”

“Then I suppose they'll soon bring the white bread and the brown?” pov/S
ventured to remark.

“It's waiting for 'em now,” said Hatta: “this is a bit of it as I'm
eating.”

There was a pause in the fight just then, and the Lion and the Unicorn
sat down, panting, while the King called out “Ten minutes allowed for
refreshments!” Haigha and Hatta set to work at once, carrying rough
trays of white and brown bread. Pov/S took a piece to taste, but it was
#emph[very] dry.

“I don't think they'll fight any more to-day,” the King said to Hatta:
“go and order the drums to begin.” And Hatta went bounding away like a
grasshopper.

For a minute or two pov/S stood silent, watching him. Suddenly pov/s
brightened up. “Look, look!” pov/s cried, pointing eagerly. “There's the
White Queen running across the country! She came flying out of the wood
over yonder---How fast those Queens #emph[can] run!”

“There's some enemy after her, no doubt,” the King said, without even
looking round. “That wood's full of them.”

“But aren't you going to run and help her?” pov/S asked, very much
surprised at his taking it so quietly.

“No use, no use!” said the King. “She runs so fearfully quick. You might
as well try to catch a Bandersnatch! But I'll make a memorandum about
her, if you like---She's a dear good creature,” he repeated softly to
himself, as he opened his memorandum-book. “Do you spell ‘creature' with
a double ‘e'?”

At this moment the Unicorn sauntered by them, with his hands in his
pockets. “I had the best of it this time?” he said to the King, just
glancing at him as he passed.

“A little---a little,” the King replied, rather nervously. “You
shouldn't have run him through with your horn, you know.”

“It didn't hurt him,” the Unicorn said carelessly, and he was going on,
when his eye happened to fall upon pov/O: he turned round rather
instantly, and stood for some time looking at pov/o with an air of the
deepest disgust.

“What---is---this?” he said at last.

“This is a child!” Haigha replied eagerly, coming in front of pov/O to
introduce pov/o, and spreading out both his hands towards pov/o in an
Anglo-Saxon attitude. “We only found it to-day. It's as large as life,
and twice as natural!”

“I always thought they were fabulous monsters!” said the Unicorn. “Is it
alive?”

“It can talk,” said Haigha, solemnly.

The Unicorn looked dreamily at pov/O, and said “Talk, child.”

Pov/S could not help pov/p lips curling up into a smile as pov/s began:
“Do you know, I always thought Unicorns were fabulous monsters, too! I
never saw one alive before!”

“Well, now that we #emph[have] seen each other,” said the Unicorn, “if
you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you. Is that a bargain?”

“Yes, if you like,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said
pov/S/.

“Come, fetch out the plum-cake, old man!” the Unicorn went on, turning
from pov/o to the King. “None of your brown bread for me!”

“Certainly---certainly!” the King muttered, and beckoned to Haigha.
“Open the bag!” he whispered. “Quick! Not that one---that's full of
hay!”

Haigha took a large cake out of the bag, and gave it to pov/O to hold,
while he got out a dish and carving-knife. How they all came out of it
pov/S couldn't guess. It was just like a conjuring-trick, she thought.

The Lion had joined them while this was going on: he looked very tired
and sleepy, and his eyes were half shut. “What's this!” he said,
blinking lazily at pov/O, and speaking in a deep hollow tone that
sounded like the tolling of a great bell.

“Ah, what #emph[is] it, now?” the Unicorn cried eagerly. “You'll never
guess! #emph[I] couldn't.”

The Lion looked at pov/O wearily. “Are you animal---vegetable---or
mineral?” he said, yawning at every other word.

“It's a fabulous monster!” the Unicorn cried out, before pov/S could
reply.

“Then hand round the plum-cake, Monster,” the Lion said, lying down and
putting his chin on his paws. “And sit down, both of you,” (to the King
and the Unicorn): “fair play with the cake, you know!”

The King was evidently very uncomfortable at having to sit down between
the two great creatures; but there was no other place for him.

“What a fight we might have for the crown, #emph[now];!” the Unicorn
said, looking slyly up at the crown, which the poor King was nearly
shaking off his head, he trembled so much.

“I should win easy,” said the Lion.

“I'm not so sure of that,” said the Unicorn.

“Why, I beat you all round the town, you chicken!” the Lion replied
angrily, half getting up as he spoke.

Here the King interrupted, to prevent the quarrel going on: he was very
nervous, and his voice quite quivered. “All round the town?” he said.
“That's a good long way. Did you go by the old bridge, or the
market-place? You get the best view by the old bridge.”

“I'm sure I don't know,” the Lion growled out as he lay down again.
“There was too much dust to see anything. What a time the Monster is,
cutting up that cake!”

Pov/S had seated pov/r on the bank of a little brook, with the great
dish on pov/p knees, and was sawing away diligently with the knife.
“It's very provoking!” pov/s said, in reply to the Lion (she was getting
quite used to being called “the Monster”). “I've cut several slices
already, but they always join on again!”

“You don't know how to manage Looking-glass cakes,” the Unicorn
remarked. “Hand it round first, and cut it afterwards.”

This sounded nonsense, but pov/S very obediently got up, and carried the
dish round, and the cake divided itself into three pieces as pov/s did
so. “#emph[Now] cut it up,” said the Lion, as pov/s returned to pov/p
place with the empty dish.

“I say, this isn't fair!” cried the Unicorn, as pov/S sat with the knife
in pov/p hand, very much puzzled how to begin. “The Monster has given
the Lion twice as much as me!”

“Prn/s'cut/off first 2/vrn/present/have\/\/ kept none for prn/r,
anyhow,” said the Lion. “Do you like plum-cake, Monster?”

But before pov/S could answer him, the drums began.

Where the noise came from, pov/s couldn't make out: the air seemed full
of it, and it rang through and through pov/p head till pov/s felt quite
deafened. Pov/s started to pov/p feet and sprang across the little brook
in pov/p terror,

#line(length: 100%)

and had just time to see the Lion and the Unicorn rise to their feet,
with angry looks at being interrupted in their feast, before pov/s
dropped to pov/p knees, and put pov/p hands over pov/p ears, vainly
trying to shut out the dreadful uproar.

“If #emph[that] doesn't ‘drum them out of town,'” pov/s thought to
pov/r, “nothing ever will!”