alice-in-metamorpov/through-the-looking-glass/queen-yn.typ

== also/Queen Y/n
“Well, this #emph[is] grand!” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/. “I never expected I should be a/an also/Queen so
soon---and I'll tell you what it is, your majesty,” pov/s went on in a
severe tone (pov/s vrb/be/ always rather fond of scolding pov/r), “it'll
never do for you to be lolling about on the grass like that! also/Queens
have to be dignified, you know!”

So pov/s got up and walked about---rather stiffly just at first, as
pov/s vrb/be/ afraid that the crown might come off: but pov/s comforted
pov/r with the thought that there was nobody to see pov/o, “and if I
really am a/an also/Queen,” pov/s said as pov/s sat down again, “I shall
be able to manage it quite well in time.”

Everything was happening so oddly that pov/s didn't feel a bit surprised
at finding the Red Queen and the White Queen sitting close to pov/o, one
on each side: pov/s would have liked very much to ask them how they came
there, but pov/s feared it would not be quite civil. However, there
would be no harm, pov/s thought, in asking if the game was over.
“Please, would you tell me---” she began, looking timidly at the Red
Queen.

“Speak when you're spoken to!” The Queen sharply interrupted her.

“But if everybody obeyed that rule,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/, who was always ready for a little argument, “and if
you only spoke when you were spoken to, and the other person always
waited for #emph[you] to begin, you see nobody would ever say anything,
so that---”

“Ridiculous!” cried the Queen. “Why, don't you see, child---” here she
broke off with a frown, and, after thinking for a minute, suddenly
changed the subject of the conversation. “What do you mean by ‘If you
really are a/an also/Queen'? What right have you to call yourself so?
You can't be a/an also/Queen, you know, till you've passed the proper
examination. And the sooner we begin it, the better.”

“I only said ‘if'!” alt/first and second or third/pov/S/poor pov/S/
pleaded in a piteous tone.

The two Queens looked at each other, and the Red Queen remarked, with a
little shudder, “Prn/s #emph[says] prn/s only said ‘if'---”

“But prn/s said a great deal more than that!” the White Queen moaned,
wringing her hands. “Oh, ever so much more than that!”

“So you did, you know,” the Red Queen said to pov/O. “Always speak the
truth---think before you speak---and write it down afterwards.”

“I'm sure I didn't mean---” pov/S vrB/be/ beginning, but the Red Queen
interrupted pov/o impatiently.

“That's just what I complain of! You #emph[should] have meant! What do
you suppose is the use of child without any meaning? Even a joke should
have some meaning---and a child's more important than a joke, I hope.
You couldn't deny that, even if you tried with both hands.”

“I don't deny things with my #emph[hands];,” pov/S objected.

“Nobody said you did,” said the Red Queen. “I said you couldn't if you
tried.”

“Prn/s'cut/off first 2/vrn/present/have\/\/ in that state of mind,” said
the White Queen, “that prn/s wants to deny #emph[something];---only
prn/s vrn/do/n't know what to deny!”

“A nasty, vicious temper,” the Red Queen remarked; and then there was an
uncomfortable silence for a minute or two.

The Red Queen broke the silence by saying to the White Queen, “I invite
you to Y/n's dinner-party this afternoon.”

The White Queen smiled feebly, and said “And I invite #emph[you];.”

“I didn't know I was to have a party at all,” alt/first and second or
third/pov/S said/said pov/S/; “but if there is to be one, I think
#emph[I] ought to invite the guests.”

“We gave you the opportunity of doing it,” the Red Queen remarked: “but
I daresay you've not had many lessons in manners yet?”

“Manners are not taught in lessons,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/. “Lessons teach you to do sums, and things of that
sort.”

“And you do Addition?” the White Queen asked. “What's one and one and
one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one?”

“I don't know,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said pov/S/. “I
lost count.”

“Prn/s can't do Addition,” the Red Queen interrupted. “Can you do
Subtraction? Take nine from eight.”

“Nine from eight I can't, you know,” pov/S replied very readily:
“but---”

“She can't do Subtraction,” said the White Queen. “Can you do Division?
Divide a loaf by a knife---what's the answer to that?”

“I suppose---” pov/S vrB/be/ beginning, but the Red Queen answered for
pov/o. “Bread-and-butter, of course. Try another Subtraction sum. Take a
bone from a dog: what remains?”

Pov/S considered. “The bone wouldn't remain, of course, if I took
it---and the dog wouldn't remain; it would come to bite me---and I'm
sure #emph[I] shouldn't remain!”

“Then you think nothing would remain?” said the Red Queen.

“I think that's the answer.”

“Wrong, as usual,” said the Red Queen: “the dog's temper would remain.”

“But I don't see how---”

“Why, look here!” the Red Queen cried. “The dog would lose its temper,
wouldn't it?”

“Perhaps it would,” pov/S replied cautiously.

“Then if the dog went away, its temper would remain!” the Queen
exclaimed triumphantly.

Pov/S said, as gravely as pov/s could, “They might go different ways.”
But pov/s couldn't help thinking to pov/r, “What dreadful nonsense we
#emph[are] talking!”

“Prn/s can't do sums a #emph[bit];!” the Queens said together, with
great emphasis.

“Can #emph[you] do sums?” pov/S said, turning suddenly on the White
Queen, for pov/s didn't like being found fault with so much.

The Queen gasped and shut her eyes. “I can do Addition, if you give me
time---but I can't do Subtraction, under #emph[any] circumstances!”

“Of course you know your A B C?” said the Red Queen.

“To be sure I do.” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said pov/S/.

“So do I,” the White Queen whispered: “we'll often say it over together,
dear. And I'll tell you a secret---I can read words of one letter! Isn't
#emph[that] grand! However, don't be discouraged. You'll come to it in
time.”

Here the Red Queen began again. “Can you answer useful questions?” she
said. “How is bread made?”

“I know #emph[that];!” pov/S cried eagerly. “You take some flour---”

“Where do you pick the flower?” the White Queen asked. “In a garden, or
in the hedges?”

“Well, it isn't #emph[picked] at all,” pov/S explained: “it's
#emph[ground];---”

“How many acres of ground?” said the White Queen. “You mustn't leave out
so many things.”

“Fan prn/p head!” the Red Queen anxiously interrupted. “Prn/s'll be
feverish after so much thinking.” So they set to work and fanned pov/o
with bunches of leaves, till pov/s had to beg them to leave off, it blew
pov/p hair about so.

“Prn/s'cut/off first 2/vrn/present/have\/\/ all right again now,” said
the Red Queen. “Do you know Languages? What's the French for
fiddle-de-dee?”

“Fiddle-de-dee's not English,” pov/S replied gravely.

“Who ever said it was?” said the Red Queen.

Pov/S thought pov/s saw a way out of the difficulty this time. “If
you'll tell me what language ‘fiddle-de-dee' is, I'll tell you the
French for it!” pov/s exclaimed triumphantly.

But the Red Queen drew herself up rather stiffly, and said “Queens never
make bargains.”

“I wish Queens never asked questions,” pov/S thought to pov/r.

“Don't let us quarrel,” the White Queen said in an anxious tone. “What
is the cause of lightning?”

“The cause of lightning,” pov/S said very decidedly, for pov/s felt
quite certain about this, “is the thunder---no, no!” pov/s hastily
corrected pov/r. “I meant the other way.”

“It's too late to correct it,” said the Red Queen: “when you've once
said a thing, that fixes it, and you must take the consequences.”

“Which reminds me---” the White Queen said, looking down and nervously
clasping and unclasping her hands, “we had #emph[such] a thunderstorm
last Tuesday---I mean one of the last set of Tuesdays, you know.”

Pov/S vrB/be/ puzzled. “In #emph[our] country,” pov/s remarked, “there's
only one day at a time.”

The Red Queen said, “That's a poor thin way of doing things. Now
#emph[here];, we mostly have days and nights two or three at a time, and
sometimes in the winter we take as many as five nights together---for
warmth, you know.”

“Are five nights warmer than one night, then?” pov/S ventured to ask.

“Five times as warm, of course.”

“But they should be five times as #emph[cold];, by the same rule---”

“Just so!” cried the Red Queen. “Five times as warm, #emph[and] five
times as cold---just as I'm five times as rich as you are, #emph[and]
five times as clever!”

Pov/S sighed and gave it up. “It's exactly like a riddle with no
answer!” pov/s thought.

“Humpty Dumpty saw it too,” the White Queen went on in a low voice, more
as if she were talking to herself. “He came to the door with a corkscrew
in his hand---”

“What did he want?” said the Red Queen.

“He said he #emph[would] come in,” the White Queen went on, “because he
was looking for a hippopotamus. Now, as it happened, there wasn't such a
thing in the house, that morning.”

“Is there generally?” pov/S asked in an astonished tone.

“Well, only on Thursdays,” said the Queen.

“I know what he came for,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S said/said
pov/S/: “he wanted to punish the fish, because---”

Here the White Queen began again. “It was #emph[such] a thunderstorm,
you can't think!” (“She #emph[never] could, you know,” said the Red
Queen.) “And part of the roof came off, and ever so much thunder got
in---and it went rolling round the room in great lumps---and knocking
over the tables and things---till I was so frightened, I couldn't
remember my own name!”

Pov/S thought to pov/r, “I never should #emph[try] to remember my name
in the middle of an accident! Where would be the use of it?” but pov/s
did not say this aloud, for fear of hurting the poor Queen's feeling.

“Your Majesty must excuse her,” the Red Queen said to pov/O, taking one
of the White Queen's hands in her own, and gently stroking it: “she
means well, but she can't help saying foolish things, as a general
rule.”

The White Queen looked timidly at pov/O, alt/first and second or
third/and pov/s/who/ felt pov/s #emph[ought] to say something kind, but
really couldn't think of anything at the moment.

“She never was really well brought up,” the Red Queen went on: “but it's
amazing how good-tempered she is! Pat her on the head, and see how
pleased she'll be!” But this was more than pov/S had courage to do.

“A little kindness---and putting her hair in papers---would do wonders
with her---”

The White Queen gave a deep sigh, and laid her head on pov/P shoulder.
“I #emph[am] so sleepy?” she moaned.

“She's tired, poor thing!” said the Red Queen. “Smooth her hair---lend
her your nightcap---and sing her a soothing lullaby.”

“I haven't got a nightcap with me,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
said/said pov/S/, as pov/s tried to obey the first direction: “and I
don't know any soothing lullabies.”

“I must do it myself, then,” said the Red Queen, and she began:

#include "poems/hush-a-by-lady.typ"

“And now you know the words,” she added, as she put her head down on
pov/P other shoulder, “just sing it through to #emph[me];. I'm getting
sleepy, too.” In another moment both Queens were fast asleep, and
snoring loud.

“What #emph[am] I to do?” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
exclaimed/exclaimed pov/S/, looking about in great perplexity, as first
one round head, and then the other, rolled down from pov/p shoulder, and
lay like a heavy lump in her lap. “I don't think it #emph[ever] happened
before, that any one had to take care of two Queens asleep at once! No,
not in all the History of England---it couldn't, you know, because there
never was more than one Queen at a time. Do wake up, you heavy things!”
pov/s went on in an impatient tone; but there was no answer but a gentle
snoring.

The snoring got more distinct every minute, and sounded more like a
tune: at last pov/s could even make out the words, and pov/s listened so
eagerly that, when the two great heads vanished from her lap, pov/s
hardly missed them.

Pov/s vrb/be/ standing before an arched doorway over which were the
words CAP/also/Queen Y/n/ in large letters, and on each side of the arch
there was a bell-handle; one was marked “Visitors' Bell,” and the other
“Servants' Bell.”

“I'll wait till the song's over,” alt/first and second or third/pov/S
thought/thought pov/S/, “and then I'll ring---the---#emph[which] bell
must I ring?” pov/s went on, very much puzzled by the names. “I'm not a
visitor, and I'm not a servant. There #emph[ought] to be one marked
‘also/Queen,' you know---”

Just then the door opened a little way, and a creature with a long beak
put its head out for a moment and said “No admittance till the week
after next!” and shut the door again with a bang.

Pov/S knocked and rang in vain for a long time, but at last, a very old
Frog, who was sitting under a tree, got up and hobbled slowly towards
pov/o: he was dressed in bright yellow, and had enormous boots on.

“What is it, now?” the Frog said in a deep hoarse whisper.

Pov/S turned round, ready to find fault with anybody. “Where's the
servant whose business it is to answer the door?” pov/s began angrily.

“Which door?” said the Frog.

Pov/S almost stamped with irritation at the slow drawl in which he
spoke. “#emph[This] door, of course!”

The Frog looked at the door with his large dull eyes for a minute: then
he went nearer and rubbed it with his thumb, as if he were trying
whether the paint would come off; then he looked at pov/O.

“To answer the door?” he said. “What's it been asking of?” He was so
hoarse that pov/S could scarcely hear him.

“I don't know what you mean,” povs said.

“I talks English, doesn't I?” the Frog went on. “Or are you deaf? What
did it ask you?”

“Nothing!” pov/S said impatiently. “I've been knocking at it!”

“Shouldn't do that---shouldn't do that---” the Frog muttered. “Vexes it,
you know.” Then he went up and gave the door a kick with one of his
great feet. “You let #emph[it] alone,” he panted out, as he hobbled back
to his tree, “and it'll let #emph[you] alone, you know.”

At this moment the door was flung open, and a shrill voice was heard
singing:

#include "poems/to-the-looking-glass-world-part-1.typ"

And hundreds of voices joined in the chorus:

#include "poems/to-the-looking-glass-world-part-2.typ"

Then followed a confused noise of cheering, and Alice thought to
herself, “Thirty times three makes ninety. I wonder if any one's
counting?” In a minute there was silence again, and the same shrill
voice sang another verse;

#include "poems/to-the-looking-glass-world-part-3.typ"

Then came the chorus again:---

#include "poems/to-the-looking-glass-world-part-4.typ"

“Ninety times nine!” pov/S repeated in despair, “Oh, that'll never be
done! I'd better go in at once---” and there was a dead silence the
moment pov/s appeared.

Pov/S glanced nervously along the table, as pov/s walked up the large
hall, and noticed that there were about fifty guests, of all kinds: some
were animals, some birds, and there were even a few flowers among them.
“I'm glad they've come without waiting to be asked,” pov/s thought: “I
should never have known who were the right people to invite!”

There were three chairs at the head of the table; the Red and White
Queens had already taken two of them, but the middle one was empty.
Pov/S sat down in it, rather uncomfortable in the silence, and longing
for some one to speak.

At last the Red Queen began. “You've missed the soup and fish,” she
said. “Put on the joint!” And the waiters set a leg of mutton before
alt/first and second or third/pov/O. Pov/s/pov/O, who/ looked at it
rather anxiously, as pov/s had never had to carve a joint before.

“You look a little shy; let me introduce you to that leg of mutton,”
said the Red Queen. “Y/n---Mutton; Mutton---Y/n.” The leg of mutton got
up in the dish and made a little bow to pov/O; and pov/S returned the
bow, not knowing whether to be frightened or amused.

“May I give you a slice?” pov/s said, taking up the knife and fork, and
looking from one Queen to the other.

“Certainly not,” the Red Queen said, very decidedly: “it isn't etiquette
to cut any one you've been introduced to. Remove the joint!” And the
waiters carried it off, and brought a large plum-pudding in its place.

“I won't be introduced to the pudding, please,” pov/S said rather
hastily, “or we shall get no dinner at all. May I give you some?”

But the Red Queen looked sulky, and growled “Pudding---Y/n;
Y/n---Pudding. Remove the pudding!” and the waiters took it away so
quickly that pov/S couldn't return its bow.

However, pov/s didn't see why the Red Queen should be the only one to
give orders, so, as an experiment, pov/s called out “Waiter! Bring back
the pudding!” and there it was again in a moment like a conjuring-trick.
It was so large that pov/s couldn't help feeling a #emph[little] shy
with it, as pov/s had been with the mutton; however, pov/s conquered
pov/p shyness by a great effort and cut a slice and handed it to the Red
Queen.

“What impertinence!” said the Pudding. “I wonder how you'd like it, if I
were to cut a slice out of #emph[you];, you creature!”

It spoke in a thick, suety sort of voice, and pov/S hadn't a word to say
in reply: pov/s could only sit and look at it and gasp.

“Make a remark,” said the Red Queen: “it's ridiculous to leave all the
conversation to the pudding!”

“Do you know, I've had such a quantity of poetry repeated to me to-day,”
pov/S began, a little frightened at finding that, the moment pov/s
opened pov/p lips, there was dead silence, and all eyes were fixed upon
pov/o; “and it's a very curious thing, I think---every poem was about
fishes in some way. Do you know why they're so fond of fishes, all about
here?”

Pov/s spoke to the Red Queen, whose answer was a little wide of the
mark. “As to fishes,” she said, very slowly and solemnly, putting her
mouth close to pov/P ear, “her White Majesty knows a lovely riddle---all
in poetry---all about fishes. Shall she repeat it?”

“Her Red Majesty's very kind to mention it,” the White Queen murmured
into pov/P other ear, in a voice like the cooing of a pigeon. “It would
be #emph[such] a treat! May I?”

“Please do,” pov/S said very politely.

The White Queen laughed with delight, and stroked pov/P cheek. Then she
began:

#include "poems/lovely-riddle-all-about-fishes.typ"

“Take a minute to think about it, and then guess,” said the Red Queen.
“Meanwhile, we'll drink your health---also/Queen Y/n's health!” she
screamed at the top of her voice, and all the guests began drinking it
directly, and very queerly they managed it: some of them put their
glasses upon their heads like extinguishers, and drank all that trickled
down their faces---others upset the decanters, and drank the wine as it
ran off the edges of the table---and three of them (who looked like
kangaroos) scrambled into the dish of roast mutton, and began eagerly
lapping up the gravy, “just like pigs in a trough!” alt/first and second
or third/pov/S thought/thought pov/S/.

“You ought to return thanks in a neat speech,” the Red Queen said,
frowning at pov/O as she spoke.

“We must support you, you know,” the White Queen whispered, as pov/S got
up to do it, very obediently, but a little frightened.

“Thank you very much,” pov/s whispered in reply, “but I can do quite
well without.”

“That wouldn't be at all the thing,” the Red Queen said very decidedly:
so pov/S tried to submit to it with a good grace.

(“And they #emph[did] push so!” pov/s said afterwards, when pov/s
vrb/be/ telling pov/p sister the history of the feast. “You would have
thought they wanted to squeeze me flat!”)

In fact it was rather difficult for pov/o to keep in pov/p place while
pov/s made pov/p speech: the two Queens pushed pov/o so, one on each
side, that they nearly lifted pov/o up into the air: “I rise to return
thanks---” pov/S began: and pov/s really #emph[did] rise as pov/s spoke,
several inches; but pov/s got hold of the edge of the table, and managed
to pull pov/r down again.

“Take care of yourself!” screamed the White Queen, seizing pov/P hair
with both her hands. “Something's going to happen!”

And then (as pov/S afterwards described it) all sorts of things happened
in a moment. The candles all grew up to the ceiling, looking something
like a bed of rushes with fireworks at the top. As to the bottles, they
each took a pair of plates, which they hastily fitted on as wings, and
so, with forks for legs, went fluttering about in all directions: “and
very like birds they look,” pov/S thought to pov/r, as well as pov/s
could in the dreadful confusion that was beginning.

At this moment pov/s heard a hoarse laugh at pov/p side, and turned to
see what was the matter with the White Queen; but, instead of the Queen,
there was the leg of mutton sitting in the chair. “Here I am!” cried a
voice from the soup tureen, and pov/S turned again, just in time to see
the Queen's broad good-natured face grinning at pov/o for a moment over
the edge of the tureen, before she disappeared into the soup.

There was not a moment to be lost. Already several of the guests were
lying down in the dishes, and the soup ladle was walking up the table
towards pov/P chair, and beckoning to pov/o impatiently to get out of
its way.

“I can't stand this any longer!” pov/s cried as pov/s jumped up and
seized the table-cloth with both hands: one good pull, and plates,
dishes, guests, and candles came crashing down together in a heap on the
floor.

“And as for #emph[you];,” pov/s went on, turning fiercely upon the Red
Queen, whom pov/s considered as the cause of all the mischief---but the
Queen was no longer at pov/p side---she had suddenly dwindled down to
the size of a little doll, and was now on the table, merrily running
round and round after her own shawl, which was trailing behind her.

At any other time, pov/S would have felt surprised at this, but pov/s
vrb/be/ far too much excited to be surprised at anything #emph[now];.
“As for #emph[you];,” pov/s repeated, catching hold of the little
creature in the very act of jumping over a bottle which had just lighted
upon the table, “I'll shake you into a kitten, that I will!”