(Written and Drawn by Lewis Carroll.)
I was always ready to go this walk with father, and I well remember one occasion on which we went. It must have been about July, for it was very hot, and the roses and other flowers were all out. Mr. Dodgson and father enjoyed a chat, while I—with a mind full of rock cakes, the bright sunshine and all the pretty things of nature in the hedges, and (oh! happy thought!) perhaps the wonderful toffee at the walk's end—danced along till the little garden gate was reached and we all passed through. I always shared my goodies with other people when I could, and I had promised to save some rock cakes for father and Mr. Dodgson, for upstairs they were always much too intent on conversation to think about "refreshments of life," and these things of which I am writing happened before "afternoon teas" of four o'clock were ever thought of.
The toffee was there—rather sticky, owing to the hot weather, but the almonds looked white and cool; and the green plate of cakes and the jug with a dog's face for a spout—all were there just ready for the flushed, tired, little girl. I quite remember the cap that day, for it had bunches of pink May with "Quaker" grass, and the old lady told me it was her best summer cap and had cost six shillings at Oliver's in Corn Market Street. I thought she must be a very rich woman indeed, and told Mr. Dodgson so that afternoon, when we were once more together. I remember his laugh as he said, "The female mind is full of vanity." I wondered what a "female mind" meant, and father said little girls asked too many questions (he often told me this part of the story afterwards, when I was grown up), and that I should not know what it was, even if I were told. Mr. Dodgson said, "Alice, all things come to those who wait; some time, if God spares you to grow up, you you will learn many things."
LEWIS CARROLL IN HIS STUDY AT CHRIST CHURCH.
But the pleasant hour spent with the old housekeeper came to an end, and the bell was rung, which meant that I had to gather myself together and go home. Two small parcels of toffee and cakes were given into my willing, open, little hands; a towel was hastily found to wipe away my general stickiness; and then I went away from this dear little home into "The Parks" with Mr. Dodgson and father, homewards.
It was hot, and I was tired: I am sorry to say that father said I was "very cross." My little blue shoes, fastened with straps and tiny pearl buttons, would come undone, and all the brightness and flowery hedges had lost their charm for the now overdone "Ducky."
Mr. Dodgson lagged behind, and I saw him looking intently in the hedges and all about, as if he were searching for something. This aroused my curiosity. At length, stooping down, he gathered up something in his handkerchief. I could not see what he had found, but I felt very much interested. Holding the tied-up handkerchief above my head, he said, "This is for my other little Alice; she is a brave girl, and does not cry like a baby at being a wee bit tired. Oh! such a curious, lovely little flower is tied up here!"
At this he waved the handkerchief above my head, and I, so anxious to see what was in it, skipped after him, forgetting the tears and the tired legs. "Tell me what it is," was my breathless request.
No answer. Mr. Dodgson danced on, and I followed, father laughing at the two of us. When we were near dear old Wadham College (not a great distance from Long-Wall Street), Mr. Dodgson said to me, with much solemnity, "Alice, did you ever hear of a 'Bella perennis,' most wonderfully and beautifully made?"