At the goggle-eyed mailed Lobster, who was loved (and boiled) by France.
"Would they, could they, would they, could they, give us half a chance?
Lobsters, Pigs, and Seals all suffer, Commerce to advance!"
"What matters it how grand we are!" his plated friend replied,
If our destiny is Salad, or the Sausage boiled or fried?
Though we breed strife 'twixt England, and America, and France,
If we're chopped up, or boiled, or brained where is our great advance?
Will you, won't you, will you, won't you chuck away a chance
Of peace in pig-stye, or at sea, to play the game of France?"
"Thank you, it's a very amusing dance—to watch," said ALICE, feeling very glad that she had not to stand up in it.