Part 14 (1/2)

Then there's a mysterious pause, and some eager small boy or girl asks, ”Now _what_ is it?” and before one has time to answer, someone calls out--

”It's an egg; it's an egg!” and the riddle is a riddle no longer.

One clever mechanical Humpty was made of barrel hoops covered with stiff paper and muslin. The eyes, nose, and mouth were connected with various tapes, which the inventor had in charge behind the scenes, and so well did he work them that Humpty in his hands turned out a fine imitation of the _Humpty-Dumpty_ Sir John Tenniel has made us remember; the same _Humpty-Dumpty_ who asked _Alice_ her name and her business, and who informed her proudly that if he did tumble off the wall, ”_The King has promised me with his very own mouth--to--to--_”

”To send all his horses and all his men--” Alice interrupted rather unwisely.

”Now I declare that's too bad!” Humpty-Dumpty cried, breaking into a sudden pa.s.sion. ”You've been listening at doors, and behind trees, and down chimneys, or you wouldn't have known it.”

”I haven't, indeed!” Alice said, very gently. ”It's in a book.”

”Ah, well! They may write such things in a _book_,” Humpty-Dumpty said in a calmer tone. ”That's what you call a History of England, that is. Now take a good look at me. I'm one that has spoken to a King, _I_ am; mayhap you'll never see such another; and to show you I'm not proud you may shake hands with me....”

”Yes, all his horses and all his men,” _Humpty-Dumpty_ went on. ”They'd pick me up in a minute, _they_ would. However, this conversation is going on a little too fast; let's go back to the last remark but one.”

Such a nice, common old chap is _Humpty-Dumpty_, so ”stuck-up” because he has spoken to a King; and argue! Well, _Alice_ never heard anything like it before, and found difficulty in keeping up a conversation that was disputed every step of the way. She found him worse than the _Ches.h.i.+re Cat_ or even the _d.u.c.h.ess_ for that matter, and not half so well-bred.

He too favored _Alice_ with the following poem, which he a.s.sured her was written entirely for her amus.e.m.e.nt, and here it is, with enough of Lewis Carroll's ”nonsense” in it to let us know where it came from:

In winter, when the fields are white, I sing this song for your delight:--

In spring, when woods are getting green, I'll try and tell you what I mean:

In summer, when the days are long, Perhaps you'll understand the song:

In autumn, when the leaves are brown, Take pen and ink, and write it down.

I sent a message to the fish: I told them: ”This is what I wish.”

The little fishes of the sea, They sent an answer back to me.

The little fishes' answer was: ”We cannot do it, Sir, because----”

I sent to them again to say: ”It will be better to obey.”

The fishes answered, with a grin: ”Why, what a temper you are in!”

I told them once, I told them twice: They would not listen to advice.

I took a kettle large and new, Fit for the deed I had to do.

My heart went hop, my heart went thump: I filled the kettle at the pump.

Then someone came to me and said: ”The little fishes are in bed.”

I said to him, I said it plain: ”Then you must wake them up again.”

I said it very loud and clear: I went and shouted in his ear.