“The Red Queen made no resistance whatever; only her face grew very small, and her eyes got large and green; and still, as Alice went on shaking her, she kept on growing shorter, and fatter, and softer, and rounder, and—and it really was a kitten after all.”
And Alice, opening her eyes in the red glow of the fire, lay snug in the armchair, while the Looking-Glass on the mantel caught the reflection of a very puzzled little face. The “dream-child” had come back to everyday, and was trying to retrace her journey as she lay there blinking at the firelight, and wondering if, back of the blaze, the Chessmen were still walking to and fro.
And Lewis Carroll, as he penned the last words of “Alice’s Adventures through the Looking-Glass,” remembered once more the little girl who had been his inspiration, and wrote a loving tribute to her at the very end of the book, an acrostic on her name—Alice Pleasance Liddell.
A boat, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July.
Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear.
Long has paled that sunny sky;
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.
Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies,
Never seen by waking eyes.
Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.
In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:
Ever drifting down the stream,
Lingering in the golden gleam,
Life, what is it but a dream?
CHAPTER X.
“HUNTING THE SNARK” AND OTHER POEMS.
here is no doubt that the second “Alice” book was quite as successful as the first, but regarding its merit there is much difference of opinion. As a rule the “grown-ups” prefer it. They like the clever situations and the quaint logic, no less than the very evident good writing; but this of course did not influence the children in the least. They liked “Alice” and the pretty idea of her trip through the Looking-Glass, but for real delight “Wonderland” was big enough for them, and to whisk down into a rabbit-hole on a summer’s day was a much easier process than squeezing through a looking-glass at the close of a short winter’s afternoon, not being quite sure that one would not fall into the fire on the other side.