“I read it in a book,” said Alice. “But I had some poetry repeated to me, much easier than that, by — Tweedledee, I think.”
“As to poetry, you know,” said Humpty Dumpty, stretching out one of his great hands, “I can repeat poetry as well as other folk if it comes to that — -”
“Oh, it needn’t come to that!” Alice hastily said, hoping to keep him from beginning.
“The piece I’m going to repeat,” he went on without noticing her remark, “was written entirely for your amusement.”
Alice felt that in that case she really ought to listen to it, so she sat down, and said “Thank you” rather sadly.
“In winter when the fields are white,
I sing this song for your delight — –
only I don’t sing it,” he explained.
“I see you don’t,” said Alice.
“If you can see whether I’m singing or not, you’ve sharper eyes than most,” Humpty Dumpty remarked severely. Alice was silent.
“In spring, when woods are getting green,
I’ll try and tell you what I’mean.”
“Thank you very much,” said Alice.
“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 will, if I can remember it so long,” said Alice.
“You needn’t go on making remarks like that,” Humpty Dumpty said: “they’re not sensible, and they put me out.”
“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’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” said Alice. “It gets easier further on,” Humpty Dumpty replied.
“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 some one 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.”
Humpty Dumpty raised his voice almost to a scream as he repeated this verse, and Alice thought with a shudder, “I wouldn’t have been the messenger for anything!”
“But he was very stiff and proud;
He said “You needn’t shout so loud!’
And he was very proud and stiff;
He said, ’I’D go and wake them, if — -’
I took a corkscrew from the shelf.
I went to wake them up myself.
And when I found the door was locked
I pulled and pushed and kicked and knocked.
And when I found the door was shut,
I tried to turn the handle, but — -”
There was a long pause.
“Is that all?” Alice timidly asked.
“That’s all,” said Humpty Dumpty. “Goodbye.”
This was rather sudden, Alice thought: but, after such a very strong hint that she ought to be going, she felt that it would hardly be civil to stay. So she held out her hand. “Good-bye, till we meet again!” she said as cheerfully as she could.
“I shouldn’t know you again if we did meet,” Humpty Dumpty replied in a discontented tone, giving her one of his fingers to shake; “you’re so exactly like other people.
“The face is what one goes by, generally,” Alice remarked in a thoughtful tone.
“That’s just what I complain of,” said Humpty Dumpty. “Your face is the same as everybody has — the two eyes, so — -” (marking their places in the air with his thumb) “nose in the middle, mouth under. It’s always the same. Now if you had the two eyes on the same side of the nose, for instance — or the mouth at the top — -that would be some help.”
“It wouldn’t look nice,” Alice objected. But Humpty Dumpty only shut his eyes and said,