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All in the golden afternoonFull leisurely we glide ;For both our oars, with little skill,By little arms are plied,While little hands make vain pretenceOur wanderings to guide.Ah, cruel Three ! In such an hour,Beneath such dreamy weather,To beg a tale of breath too weakTo stir the tiniest feather !Yet what can one poor voice availAgainst three tongues together ?Imperious Prima flashes forthHer edict " to begin it " :In gentler tones Secunda hopes" There will be nonsense in it ! "While Tertia interrupts the taleNot more than once a minute.Anon, to sudden silence won,In fancy they pursueThe dream-child moving through a landOf wonders wild and new,In friendly chat with bird or beast--And half believe it true.And ever, as the story drainedThe wells of fancy dry,And faintly strove that weary oneTo put the subject by," The rest next time-- " " It is next time ! "The happy voices cry.Thus grew the tale of Wonderland :Thus slowly, one by one,Its quaint events were hammered out--And now the tale is done,And home we steer, a merry crew,Beneath the setting sun.Alice ! A childish story take,And, with a gentle hand,Lay it where Childhood's dreams are twinedIn Memory's mystic band,Like pilgrim's wither'd wreath of flowersPluck'd in a far-off land.C ON T E N T SCHAPTER PAGEI Down the Rabbit-Hole 7II The Pool of Tears 14III A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale 22IV The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill 29V Advice from a Caterpillar 38VI Pig and Pepper 48VII A Mad Tea-Party 58VIII The Queen's Croquet-Ground 67IX The Mock Turtle's Story 76X The Lobster-Quadrille 85XI Who Stole the Tarts ? 93XII Alice's Evidence 100C HA P T E R IDown the Rabbit-HoleAlice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on thebank, and of having nothing to do : once or twice she had peeped intothe book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversationsin it, " and what is the use of a book, " thought Alice, " without picturesor conversations ? "So she was considering, in her own mind (as well