To my utter astonishment—for I was not yet accustomed At last all the work was picked to pieces and put away, and to the action of the Watch “all smiles ceased” (as Browning the lady led the way into the next room, walking backwards, says) on the four pretty faces, and they all got out pieces of and making the insane remark “Not yet, dear: we must get needle-work, and sat down. No one noticed me in the least, the sewing done first.” After which, I was not surprised to as I quietly took a chair and sat down to watch them.
see the children skipping backwards after her, exclaiming When the needle-work had been unfolded, and they were
“Oh, mother, it is such a lovely day for a walk!” all ready to begin, their mother said “Come, that’s done, at In the dining-room, the table had only dirty plates and last! You may fold up your work, girls.” But the children empty dishes on it. However the party—with the addition took no notice whatever of the remark; on the contrary, they of a gentleman, as good-natured, and as rosy, as the chil-set to work at once sewing—if that is the proper word to dren—seated themselves at it very contentedly.
describe an operation such as I had never before witnessed.
You have seen people eating cherry-tart, and every now Each of them threaded her needle with a short end of thread and then cautiously conveying a cherry-stone from their lips 153
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll to their plates? Well, something like that went on all through And little Dolly shrugged her shoulders, and said, with a this ghastly—or shall we say ‘ghostly’?—banquet. An empty pretty pettishness, “Now, Father, you’re not to tease! You fork is raised to the lips: there it receives a neatly-cut piece of know I don’t want to be bride’s-maid to anybody!” mutton, and swiftly conveys it to the plate, where it instantly
“And Dolly’s to be the fourth,” was her father’s idiotic re-attaches itself to the mutton already there. Soon one of the ply.
plates, furnished with a complete slice of mutton and two Here Number Three put in her oar. “Oh, it is settled, potatoes, was handed up to the presiding gentleman, who Mother dear, really and truly! Mary told us all about it. It’s quietly replaced the slice on the joint, and the potatoes in to be next Tuesday four weeks—and three of her cousins are the dish.
coming; to be bride’s-maids—and—” Their conversation was, if possible, more bewildering than
“She doesn’t forget it, Minnie!” the Mother laughingly re-their mode of dining. It began by the youngest girl sud-plied. “I do wish they’d get it settled! I don’t like long en-denly, and without provocation, addressing her eldest sister.
gagements.”
“Oh, you wicked story-teller!” she said.
And Minnie wound up the conversation—if so chaotic a I expected a sharp reply from the sister; but, instead of series of remarks deserves the name—with “Only think! We this, she turned laughingly to her father, and said, in a very passed the Cedars this morning, just exactly as Mary loud stage-whisper, “To be a bride!” Davenant was standing at the gate, wishing good-bye to The father, in order to do his part in a conversation that Mister—I forget his name. Of course we looked the other seemed only fit for lunatics, replied “Whisper it to me, dear.” way.”
But she didn’t whisper (these children never did anything By this time I was so hopelessly confused that I gave up they were told): she said, quite loud, “Of course not! Every-listening, and followed the dinner down into the kitchen.
body knows what Dotty wants!”
But to you, O hypercritical reader, resolute to believe no 154
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll item of this weird adventure, what need to tell how the much for her—and Eric has gone to the hotel to pack his mutton was placed on the spit, and slowly unroasted—how things, to start for London by the early train.” the potatoes were wrapped in their skins, and handed over
“Then the telegram has come?” I said.
to the gardener to be buried—how, when the mutton had at
“Did you not hear? Oh, I had forgotten: it came in after length attained to rawness, the fire, which had gradually you left the Station. Yes, it’s all right: Eric has got his com-changed from red-heat to a mere blaze, died down so sud-mission; and, now that he has arranged matters with Muriel, denly that the cook had only just time to catch its last flicker he has business in town that must be seen to at once.” on the end of a match—or how the maid, having taken the
“What arrangement do you mean?” I asked with a sinking mutton off the spit, carried it (backwards, of course) out of heart, as the thought of Arthur’s crushed hopes came to my the house, to meet the butcher, who was coming (also back-mind. “Do you mean that they are engaged?” wards) down the road?
“They have been engaged—in a sense—for two years,” The longer I thought over this strange adventure, the more the old man gently replied: “that is, he has had my promise hopelessly tangled the mystery became: and it was a real re-to consent to it, so soon as he could secure a permanent and lief to meet Arthur in the road, and get him to go with me settled line in life. I could never be happy with my child up to the Hall, to learn what news the telegraph had brought.
married to a man without an object to live for—without I told him, as we went, what had happened at the Station, even an object to die for!”
but as to my further adventures I thought it best, for the
“I hope they will be happy,” a strange voice said. The present, to say nothing.
speaker was evidently in the room, but I had not heard the The Earl was sitting alone when we entered. “I am glad door open, and I looked round in some astonishment. The you are come in to keep me company,” he said. “Muriel is Earl seemed to share my surprise. “Who spoke?” he ex-gone to bed—the excitement of that terrible scene was too claimed.
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“It was I,” said Arthur, looking at us with a worn, haggard while. “But I hope to run down again in a month I added. I face, and eyes from which the light of life seemed suddenly would stay now, if I could. I don’t think it’s good for you to to have faded. “And let me wish you joy also, dear friend,” be alone.
he added, looking sadly at the Earl, and speaking in the same No, I ca’n’t face solitude, here, for long, said Arthur. But hollow tones that had startled us so much.
don’t think about me. I have made up my mind to accept a
“Thank you,” the old man said, simply and heartily.
post in India, that has been offered me. Out there, I suppose A silence followed: then I rose, feeling sure that Arthur I shall find something to live for; I ca’n’t see anything at would wish to be alone, and bade our gentle host ‘Good present. ‘This life of mine I guard, as God’s high gift, from night’: Arthur took his hand, but said nothing: nor did he scathe and wrong, Not greatly care to lose!’” speak again, as we went home till we were in the house and
“Yes,” I said: “your name-sake bore as heavy a blow, and had lit our bed-room candles. Then he said more to himself lived through it.”
than to me “The heart knoweth its own bitterness. I never
“A far heavier one than mine, said Arthur.
understood those words till now.”
“The woman he loved proved false. There is no such cloud The next few days passed wearily enough. I felt no incli-as that on my memory of—of—” He left the name unuttered, nation to call by myself at the Hall; still less to propose that and went on hurriedly. “But you will return, will you not?” Arthur should go with me: it seemed better to wait till Time—
“Yes, I shall come back for a short time.” that gentle healer of our bitterest sorrows should have helped
“Do,” said Arthur: “and you shall write and tell me of our him to recover from the first shock of the disappointment friends. I’ll send you my address when I’m settled down.” that had blighted his life.
Business however soon demanded my presence in town; and I had to announce to Arthur that I must leave him for a 156
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll
“And what are you doing about the Baby?” CHAPTER 24
“Well, the soldiers are all looking for it—up and down everywhere.”
THE FROGS’ BIRTHDAY-TREAT
“The soldiers?” I exclaimed.
“Yes, a course!” said Bruno. “When there’s no fighting to And so it came to pass that, just a week after the day when be done, the soldiers doos any little odd jobs, oo know.” my Fairy-friends first appeared as Children, I found myself I was amused at the idea of its being a ‘little odd job’ to taking a farewell-stroll through the wood, in the hope of find the Royal Baby. “But how did you come to lose it?” I meeting them once more. I had but to stretch myself on the asked.
smooth turf, and the ‘eerie’ feeling was on me in a moment.
“We put it in a flower,” Sylvie, who had just joined us,
“Put oor ear welly low down,” said Bruno, “and I’ll tell oo explained with her eyes full of tears. “Only we ca’n’t remem-a secret! It’s the Frogs’ Birthday-Treat—and we’ve lost the ber which!”
Baby!”
“She says us put it in a flower,” Bruno interrupted, “‘cause
“What Baby?” I said, quite bewildered by this complicated she doosn’t want I to get punished. But it were really me piece of news.
what put it there. Sylvie were picking Dindledums.”
“The Queen’s Baby, a course!” said Bruno. “Titania’s Baby.
“You shouldn’t say ‘us put it in a flower’,” Sylvie very gravely And we’s welly sorry. Sylvie, she’s—oh so sorry!” remarked.
“How sorry is she?” I asked, mischievously.
“Well, hus, then,” said Bruno. “I never can remember those
“Three-quarters of a yard,” Bruno replied with perfect horrid H’s!”
solemnity. “And I’m a little sorry too,” he added, shutting
“Let me help you to look for it,” I said. So Sylvie and I his eyes so as not to see that he was smiling.
made a ‘voyage of discovery’ among all the flowers; but there 157
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll was no Baby to be seen.
“Only but Frogs,” said Bruno. “But they haven’t comed
“What’s become of Bruno?” I said, when we had com-yet. They wants to be drove up, like sheep.” pleted our tour.
“Would it save time,” I suggested, “if I were to walk round
“He’s down in the ditch there,” said Sylvie, “amusing a with Sylvie, to drive up the Frogs, while you get the Theatre young Frog.”
ready?”
I went down on my hands and knees to look for him, for
“That are a good plan!” cried Bruno. “But where are Sylvie?” I felt very curious to know how young Frogs ought to be
“I’m here!” said Sylvie, peeping over the edge of the bank.
amused. After a minute’s search, I found him sitting at the
“I was just watching two Frogs that were having a race.” edge of the ditch, by the side of the little Frog, and looking
“Which won it? “Bruno eagerly inquired.
rather disconsolate.
Sylvie was puzzled. “He does ask such hard questions!”
“How are you getting on, Bruno?” I said, nodding to him she confided to me.
as he looked up.
“And what’s to happen in the Theatre?” I asked.
“Ca’n’t amuse it no more,” Bruno answered, very dole-
“First they have their Birthday-Feast,” Sylvie said: “then fully, “‘cause it won’t say what it would like to do next! I’ve Bruno does some Bits of Shakespeare; then he tells them a showed it all the duck-weeds—and a live caddis-worm—
Story.”
but it won’t say nuffin! What—would oo like?’ he shouted
“I should think the Frogs like the Feast best. Don’t they?” into the ear of the Frog: but the little creature sat quite still,
“Well, there’s generally very few of them that get any. They and took no notice of him. “It’s deaf, I think!” Bruno said, will keep their mouths shut so tight! And it’s just as well they turning away with a sigh. “And it’s time to get the Theatre do,” she added, “because Bruno likes to cook it himself: and ready.”
he cooks very queerly.” Now they’re all in. Would you just
“Who are the audience to be?”
help me to put them with their heads the right way?” 158
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll We soon managed this part of the business, though the so many of the guests had kept their mouths shut up tight.
Frogs kept up a most discontented croaking all the time.
“What’s the soup made of, Bruno?” said Sylvie, who had
“What are they saying?” I asked Sylvie.
put a spoonful of it to her lips, and was making a wry face
“They’re saying ‘Fork! Fork!’ It’s very silly of them! You’re over it.
not going to have forks!” she announced with some severity.
And Bruno’s answer was anything but encouraging. “Bits
“Those that want any Feast have just got to open their of things!”
mouths, and Bruno ‘ll put some of it in!” The entertainment was to conclude with “Bits of At this moment Bruno appeared, wearing a little white Shakespeare,” as Sylvie expressed it, which were all to be apron to show that he was a Cook, and carrying a tureen full done by Bruno, Sylvie being fully engaged in making the of very queer-looking soup. I watched very carefully as he Frogs keep their heads towards the stage: after which Bruno moved about among the Frogs; but I could not see that any was to appear in his real character, and tell them a Story of of them opened their mouths to be fed—except one very his own invention.
young one, and I’m nearly sure it did it accidentally, in yawn-
“Will the Story have a Moral to it?” I asked Sylvie, while ing. However Bruno instantly put a large spoonful of soup Bruno was away behind the hedge, dressing for the first ‘Bit.’
into its mouth, and the poor little thing coughed violently
“I think so,” Sylvie replied doubtfully. “There generally is for some time.
a Moral, only he puts it in too soon.” So Sylvie and I had to share the soup between us, and to
“And will he say all the Bits of Shakespeare?” pretend to enjoy it, for it certainly was very queerly cooked.
“No, he’ll only act them,” said Sylvie. “He knows hardly I only ventured to take one spoonful of it (“Sylvie’s Sum-any of the words. When I see what he’s dressed like, I’ve to mer-Soup,” Bruno said it was), and must candidly confess tell the Frogs what character it is. They’re always in such a that it was not at all nice; and I could not feel surprised that hurry to guess! Don’t you hear them all saying ‘What? What?’” 159
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll And so indeed they were: it had only sounded like croaking, stupid eye gazing at the stage.
till Sylvie explained it, but I could now make out the “Wawt?
“Oo must come and sit among them, Sylvie,” he said in Wawt?” quite distinctly.
despair, “I’ve put these two side-by-side, with their noses the
“But why do they try to guess it before they see it?” same way, ever so many times, but they do squarrel so!”
“I don’t know,” Sylvie said: “but they always do. Some-So Sylvie took her place as ‘Mistress of the Ceremonies,’
times they begin guessing weeks and weeks before the day!” and Bruno vanished again behind the scenes, to dress for the (So now, when you hear the Frogs croaking in a particu-first ‘Bit.’
larly melancholy way, you may be sure they’re trying to guess
“Hamlet!” was suddenly proclaimed, in the clear sweet tones Bruno’s next Shakespeare ‘Bit’. Isn’t that interesting?) I knew so well. The croaking all ceased in a moment, and I However, the chorus of guessing was cut short by Bruno, turned to the stage, in some curiosity to see what Bruno’s who suddenly rushed on from behind the scenes, and took a ideas were as to the behaviour of Shakespeare’s greatest Char-flying leap down among the Frogs, to re-arrange them.
acter.
For the oldest and fattest Frog—who had never been prop-According to this eminent interpreter of the Drama, Ham-erly arranged so that he could see the stage, and so had no let wore a short black cloak (which he chiefly used for muf-idea what was going on—was getting restless, and had upset fling up his face, as if he suffered a good deal from tooth-several of the Frogs, and turned others round with their heads ache), and turned out his toes very much as he walked. “To the wrong way. And it was no good at all, Bruno said, to do be or not to be!” Hamlet remarked in a cheerful tone, and a ‘Bit’ of Shakespeare when there was nobody to look at it then turned head-over-heels several times, his cloak drop-
(you see he didn’t count me as anybody). So he set to work ping off in the performance.
with a stick, stirring them up, very much as you would stir I felt a little disappointed: Bruno’s conception of the part up tea in a cup, till most of them had at least one great seemed so wanting in dignity. “Won’t he say any more of the 160
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll speech?” I whispered to Sylvie.
private life: but Bruno evidently considered it quite an es-
“I think not,” Sylvie whispered in reply. “He generally turns sential part of the character, and left the stage in a series of head-over-heels when he doesn’t know any more words.” somersaults. However, he was back again in a few moments, Bruno had meanwhile settled the question by disappear-having tucked under his chin the end of a tuft of wool (prob-ing from the stage; and the Frogs instantly began inquiring ably left on the thorn by a wandering sheep), which made a the name of the next Character.
magnificent beard, that reached nearly down to his feet.
“You’ll know directly!” cried Sylvie, as she adjusted two or
“Shylock!” Sylvie proclaimed. “No, I beg your pardon!” three young Frogs that had struggled round with their backs she hastily corrected herself, “King Lear! I hadn’t noticed the to the stage. “Macbeth!” she added, as Bruno re-appeared.
crown.” (Bruno had very cleverly provided one, which fit-Macbeth had something twisted round him, that went over ted him exactly, by cutting out the centre of a dandelion to one shoulder and under the other arm, and was meant, I make room for his head.)
believe, for a Scotch plaid. He had a thorn in his hand, which King Lear folded his arms (to the imminent peril of his he held out at arm’s length, as if he were a little afraid of it.
beard) and said, in a mild explanatory tone, “Ay, every inch
“Is this a dagger?” Macbeth inquired, in a puzzled sort of a king!” and then paused, as if to consider how this could tone: and instantly a chorus of “Thorn! Thorn!” arose from best be proved. And here, with all possible deference to Bruno the Frogs (I had quite learned to understand their croaking as a Shakespearian critic, I must express my opinion that the by this time).
poet did not mean his three great tragic heroes to be so
“It’s a dagger!” Sylvie proclaimed in a peremptory tone.
strangely alike in their personal habits; nor do I believe that
“Hold your tongues!” And the croaking ceased at once.
he would have accepted the faculty of turning head-over-Shakespeare has not told us, so far as I know, that Macbeth heels as any proof at all of royal descent. Yet it appeared that had any such eccentric habit as turning head-over-heels in King Lear, after deep meditation, could think of no other 161
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll argument by which to prove his kingship: and, as this was seemed, as the evening breeze gently swayed it hither and the last of the ‘Bits’ of Shakespeare (“We never do more than thither, to offer exactly the sort of accommodation that the three,” Sylvie explained in a whisper), Bruno gave the audi-orator desired. Having once decided on his quarters, it needed ence quite a long series of somersaults before he finally re-only a second or two for him to run up the stem like a tiny tired, leaving the enraptured Frogs all crying out “More!
squirrel, and to seat himself astride on the topmost bend, More!” which I suppose was their way of encoring a perfor-where the fairy-bells clustered most closely, and from whence mance. But Bruno wouldn’t appear again, till the proper time he could look down on his audience from such a height that came for telling the Story.
all shyness vanished, and he began his Story merrily.
When he appeared at last in his real character, I noticed a
“Once there were a Mouse and a Crocodile and a Man remarkable change in his behaviour.
and a Goat and a Lion.” I had never heard the ‘dramatis He tried no more somersaults. It was clearly his opinion personae’ tumbled into a story with such profusion and in that, however suitable the habit of turning head-over-heels such reckless haste; and it fairly took my breath away. Even might be to such petty individuals as Hamlet and King Lear, Sylvie gave a little gasp, and allowed three of the Frogs, who it would never do for Bruno to sacrifice his dignity to such seemed to be getting tired of the entertainment, to hop away an extent. But it was equally clear that he did not feel en-into the ditch, without attempting to stop them.
tirely at his ease, standing all alone on the stage, with no
“And the Mouse found a Shoe, and it thought it were a costume to disguise him: and though he began, several times, Mouse-trap. So it got right in, and it stayed in ever so long.”
“There were a Mouse—,” he kept glancing up and down,
“Why did it stay in?” said Sylvie. Her function seemed to and on all sides, as if in search of more comfortable quarters be much the same as that of the Chorus in a Greek Play: she from which to tell the Story. Standing on one side of the had to encourage the orator, and draw him out, by a series stage, and partly overshadowing it, was a tall foxglove, which of intelligent questions.
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“‘Cause it thought it couldn’t get out again,” Bruno ex-
“Nor you won’t hear of it again,” said Bruno). “And he said plained. “It were a clever mouse. It knew it couldn’t get out to the Goat, ‘Oo will walk about here till I comes back.’ And of traps!”
he went and he tumbled into a deep hole. And the Goat But why did it go in at all?” said Sylvie.
walked round and round. And it walked under the Tree.
“—and it jamp, and it jamp,” Bruno proceeded, ignoring And it wug its tail. And it looked up in the Tree. And it sang this question, “and at last it got right out again. And it looked a sad little Song. Oo never heard such a sad little Song!” at the mark in the Shoe. And the Man’s name were in it. So
“Can you sing it, Bruno?” I asked.
it knew it wasn’t its own Shoe.”
“Iss, I can,” Bruno readily replied. “And I sa’n’t. It would
“Had it thought it was?” said Sylvie.
make Sylvie cry—”
“Why, didn’t I tell oo it thought it were a Mouse-trap?”
“It wouldn’t!” Sylvie interrupted in great indignation. “And the indignant orator replied. “Please, Mister Sir, will oo make I don’t believe the Goat sang it at all!” Sylvie attend?” Sylvie was silenced, and was all attention: in
“It did, though!” said Bruno. “It singed it right froo. I fact, she and I were most of the audience now, as the Frogs sawed it singing with its long beard—” kept hopping away, and there were very few of them left.
“It couldn’t sing with its beard,” I said, hoping to puzzle
“So the Mouse gave the Man his Shoe.
the little fellow: “a beard isn’t a voice.” And the Man were welly glad, cause he hadn’t got but one
“Well then, oo couldn’t walk with Sylvie!” Bruno cried Shoe, and he were hopping to get the other.” triumphantly. “Sylvie isn’t a foot!” Here I ventured on a question. “Do you mean ‘hopping,’
I thought I had better follow Sylvie’s example, and be si-or ‘hoping’?”
lent for a while. Bruno was too sharp for us.
“Bofe,” said Bruno. “And the Man took the Goat out of
“And when it had singed all the Song, it ran away—for to the Sack.” (“We haven’t heard of the sack before,” I said.
get along to look for the Man, oo know. And the Crocodile 163
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll got along after it—for to bite it, oo know. And the Mouse and he jamp, and at last he got right out of the hole.” got along after the Crocodile.”
Sylvie gave another little gasp: this rapid dodging about
“Wasn’t the Crocodile running?” Sylvie enquired. She ap-among the characters of the Story had taken away her breath.
pealed to me. “Crocodiles do run, don’t they?”
“And he runned away for to look for the Goat, oo know.
I suggested “crawling” as the proper word.
And he heard the Lion grunting—”
“He wasn’t running,” said Bruno, “and he wasn’t crawling.
“Lions don’t grunt,” said Sylvie.
He went struggling along like a portmanteau. And he held
“This one did,” said Bruno. “And its mouth were like a his chin ever so high in the air—” large cupboard. And it had plenty of room in its mouth.
“What did he do that for?” said Sylvie.
And the Lion runned after the Man for to eat him, oo know.
“‘Cause he hadn’t got a toofache!” said Bruno. “Ca’n’t oo And the Mouse runned after the Lion.” make out nuffin wizout I ‘splain it? Why, if he’d had a
“But the Mouse was running after the Crocodile,” I said: toofache, a course he’d have held his head down—like this—
“he couldn’t run after both!”
and he’d have put a lot of warm blankets round it!” Bruno sighed over the density of his audience, but ex-
“If he’d had any blankets,” Sylvie argued.
plained very patiently. “He did runned after bofe: ‘cause they
“Course he had blankets!” retorted her brother. “Doos oo went the same way! And first he caught the Crocodile, and think Crocodiles goes walks wizout blankets? And he frowned then he didn’t catch the Lion. And when he’d caught the with his eyebrows. And the Goat was welly flightened at his Crocodile, what doos oo think he did—’cause he’d got pin-eyebrows!”
cers in his pocket?”
“I’d never be afraid of eyebrows?” exclaimed Sylvie.
“I ca’n’t guess,” said Sylvie.
“I should think oo would, though, if they’d got a Croco-
“Nobody couldn’t guess it!” Bruno cried in high glee. “Why, dile fastened to them, like these had! And so the Man jamp, he wrenched out that Crocodile’s toof!” 164
Sylvie and Bruno - Lewis Carroll
“Which tooth?” I ventured to ask.
were three weeks in the air—”
But Bruno was not to be puzzled. “The toof he were going
“Did the Man wait for it all that time?” I said.
to bite the Goat with, a course!”
“Course he didn’t!” Bruno replied, gliding head-first down
“He couldn’t be sure about that,” I argued,“unless he the stem of the fox-glove, for the Story was evidently close wrenched out all its teeth.”
to its end. “He sold his house, and he packed up his things, B