alice-in-metamorpov/adventures-in-wonderland/advice-from-a-caterpillar.typ

== Advice from a Caterpillar
The Caterpillar and pov/S looked at each other for some time in silence:
at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed
pov/o in a languid, sleepy voice.

“Who are #emph[you?];” said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Pov/S replied,
rather shyly, “I---I hardly know, sir, just at present---at least I know
who I #emph[was] when I got up this morning, but I think I must have
been changed several times since then.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar sternly. “Explain
yourself!”

“I can't explain #emph[myself];, I'm afraid, sir,” alt/first and second
or third/pov/S said/said pov/S/, “because I'm not myself, you see.”

“I don't see,” said the Caterpillar.

“I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly,” pov/S replied very politely,
“for I can't understand it myself to begin with; and being so many
different sizes in a day is very confusing.”

“It isn't,” said the Caterpillar.

“Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/; “but when you have to turn into a
chrysalis---you will some day, you know---and then after that into a
butterfly, I should think you'll feel it a little queer, won't you?”

“Not a bit,” said the Caterpillar.

“Well, perhaps your feelings may be different,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/; “all I know is, it would feel very queer
to #emph[me];.”

“You!” said the Caterpillar contemptuously. “Who are #emph[you?];”

Which brought them back again to the beginning of the conversation.
Pov/S felt a little irritated at the Caterpillar's making such
#emph[very] short remarks, and pov/s drew pov/r up and said, very
gravely, “I think, you ought to tell me who #emph[you] are, first.”

“Why?” said the Caterpillar.

Here was another puzzling question; and as pov/S could not think of any
good reason, and as the Caterpillar seemed to be in a #emph[very]
unpleasant state of mind, pov/s turned away.

“Come back!” the Caterpillar called after pov/o. “I've something
important to say!”

This sounded promising, certainly: pov/S turned and came back again.

“Keep your temper,” said the Caterpillar.

“Is that all?” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said pov/S/,
swallowing down pov/p anger as well as pov/s could.

“No,” said the Caterpillar.

Pov/S thought pov/s might as well wait, as pov/s had nothing else to do,
and perhaps after all it might tell pov/o something worth hearing. For
some minutes it puffed away 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?”

“I'm afraid I am, sir,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said
pov/S/; “I can't remember things as I used---and I don't keep the same
size for ten minutes together!”

“Can't remember #emph[what] things?” said the Caterpillar.

“Well, I've tried to say “How doth the little busy bee,” but it all came
different!” pov/S replied in a very melancholy voice.

“Repeat, “#emph[You are old, Father William];,'” said the Caterpillar.

Pov/S folded her hands, and began:---

#include "poems/you-are-old-father-william.typ"

“That is not said right,” said the Caterpillar.

“Not #emph[quite] right, I'm afraid,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/, 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,” pov/S hastily replied; “only one
doesn't like changing so often, you know.”

“I #emph[don't] know,” said the Caterpillar.

Pov/S said nothing: pov/s had never been so much contradicted in her
life before, and pov/s felt that pov/s was losing pov/p temper.

“Are you content now?” said the Caterpillar.

“Well, I should like to be a #emph[little] larger, sir, if you wouldn't
mind,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said pov/S/: “three
inches is such a wretched height to be.”

“It is a very good height indeed!” said the Caterpillar angrily, rearing
itself upright as it spoke (it was exactly three inches high).

“But I'm not used to it!” pleaded poor pov/S in a piteous tone. And
pov/s thought of pov/r, “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 pov/S waited patiently until it chose to speak again. In a
minute or two the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth and
yawned once or twice, and shook itself. Then it got down off the
mushroom, and crawled away in the grass, merely remarking as it went,
“One side will make you grow taller, and the other side will make you
grow shorter.”

“One side of #emph[what?] The other side of #emph[what?];” alt/first and
second or third/pov/S thought/thought pov/S/ to pov/r.

“Of the mushroom,” said the Caterpillar, just as if pov/s had asked it
aloud; and in another moment it was out of sight.

Pov/S remained looking thoughtfully at the mushroom for a minute, trying
to make out which were the two sides of it; and as it was perfectly
round, pov/s found this a very difficult question. However, at last
pov/s stretched pov/p arms round it as far as they would go, and broke
off a bit of the edge with each hand.

“And now which is which?” pov/s said to herself, and nibbled a little of
the right-hand bit to try the effect: the next moment pov/s felt a
violent blow underneath pov/p chin: it had struck pov/p foot!

Pov/s was a good deal frightened by this very sudden change, but pov/s
felt that there was no time to be lost, as pov/s vrb/be/ shrinking
rapidly; so pov/s set to work at once to eat some of the other bit.
Pov/p chin was pressed so closely against pov/p foot, that there was
hardly room to open pov/p mouth; but pov/s did it at last, and managed
to swallow a morsel of the lefthand bit.

“Come, my head's free at last!” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/ in a tone of delight, which changed into alarm in
another moment, when pov/s found that pov/p shoulders were nowhere to be
found: all pov/s could see, when pov/s looked down, was an immense
length of neck, which seemed to rise like a stalk out of a sea of green
leaves that lay far below pov/o.

“What #emph[can] all that green stuff be?” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/. “And where #emph[have] my shoulders got
to? And oh, my poor hands, how is it I can't see you?” Pov/s was moving
them about as pov/s spoke, but no result seemed to follow, except a
little shaking among the distant green leaves.

As there seemed to be no chance of getting pov/p hands up to pov/p head,
pov/s tried to get pov/p head down to them, and vrb/be/ delighted to
find that pov/p neck would bend about easily in any direction, like a
serpent. Pov/s had just succeeded in curving it down into a graceful
zigzag, and vrb/be/ going to dive in among the leaves, which pov/s found
to be nothing but the tops of the trees under which pov/s had been
wandering, when a sharp hiss made pov/o draw back in a hurry: a large
pigeon had flown into pov/p face, and was beating pov/o violently with
its wings.

“Serpent!” screamed the Pigeon.

“I'm #emph[not] a serpent!” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/ indignantly. “Let me alone!”

“Serpent, I say again!” repeated the Pigeon, but in a more subdued tone,
and added with a kind of sob, “I've tried every way, and nothing seems
to suit them!”

“I haven't the least idea what you're talking about,” alt/first and
second or third/pov/S said/said pov/S/.

“I've tried the roots of trees, and I've tried banks, and I've tried
hedges,” the Pigeon went on, without attending to pov/o; “but those
serpents! There's no pleasing them!”

Pov/S was more and more puzzled, but pov/s thought there was no use in
saying anything more till the Pigeon had finished.

“As if it wasn't trouble enough hatching the eggs,” said the Pigeon;
“but I must be on the look-out for serpents night and day! Why, I
haven't had a wink of sleep these three weeks!”

“I'm very sorry you've been annoyed,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/, who was beginning to see its meaning.

“And just as I'd taken the highest tree in the wood,” continued the
Pigeon, raising its voice to a shriek, “and just as I was thinking I
should be free of them at last, they must needs come wriggling down from
the sky! Ugh, Serpent!”

“But I'm #emph[not] a serpent, I tell you!” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/. “I'm a---I'm a---”

“Well! #emph[What] are you?” said the Pigeon. “I can see you're trying
to invent something!”

“I---I'm a little prn/n,” said pov/S, rather doubtfully, as pov/s
remembered the number of changes pov/s had gone through that day.

“A likely story indeed!” said the Pigeon in a tone of the deepest
contempt. “I've seen a good many little prn/ns in my time, but never
#emph[one] with such a neck as that! No, no! You're a serpent; and
there's no use denying it. I suppose you'll be telling me next that you
never tasted an egg!”

“I #emph[have] tasted eggs, certainly,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/, who was a very truthful child; “but little
prn/ns eat eggs quite as much as serpents do, you know.”

“I don't believe it,” said the Pigeon; “but if they do, why then they're
a kind of serpent, that's all I can say.”

This was such a new idea to pov/O, that pov/s was quite silent for a
minute or two, which gave the Pigeon the opportunity of adding, “You're
looking for eggs, I know #emph[that] well enough; and what does it
matter to me whether you're a little prn/n or a serpent?”

“It matters a good deal to #emph[me];,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/ hastily; “but I'm not looking for eggs, as
it happens; and if I was, I shouldn't want #emph[yours];: I don't like
them raw.”

“Well, be off, then!” said the Pigeon in a sulky tone, as it settled
down again into its nest. Pov/S crouched down among the trees as well as
pov/s could, for pov/p neck kept getting entangled among the branches,
and every now and then pov/s had to stop and untwist it. After a while
pov/s remembered that pov/s still held the pieces of mushroom in pov/p
hands, and pov/s set to work very carefully, nibbling first at one and
then at the other, and growing sometimes taller and sometimes shorter,
until pov/s had succeeded in bringing pov/r down to pov/p usual height.

It was so long since pov/s had been anything near the right size, that
it felt quite strange at first; but pov/s got used to it in a few
minutes, and began talking to pov/r, as usual. “Come, there's half my
plan done now! How puzzling all these changes are! I'm never sure what
I'm going to be, from one minute to another! However, I've got back to
my right size: the next thing is, to get into that beautiful
garden---how #emph[is] that to be done, I wonder?” As pov/s said this,
pov/s came suddenly upon an open place, with a little house in it about
four feet high. “Whoever lives there,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S thought/thought pov/S/, “it'll never do to come upon them
#emph[this] size: why, I should frighten them out of their wits!” So
pov/s began nibbling at the righthand bit again, and did not venture to
go near the house till pov/s had brought pov/r down to nine inches high.