Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll
Chapter 7 - The Lion and the Unicorn
The next moment soldiers cam running through the wood, at first
in twos and threes, then ten or twenty together, and at last in
such crowds that they seemed to fill the whole forest. Alice got
behind a tree, for fear of being run over, and watched them go
by.
She thought that in all her life she had never seen soldiers so
uncertain on their feet: they were always tripping over
something or other, and whenever one went down, several more
always fell over him, so that the ground was soon covered with
little heaps of men.
Then came the horses. Having four feet, these managed rather
better than the foot-soldiers: but even they stumbled now and
then; and it seemed to be a regular rule that, whenever a horse
stumbled the rider fell off instantly. The confusion got worse
every moment, and Alice was very glad to get out of the wood into
an open place, where she found the White King seated on the
ground, busily writing in his memorandum-book.
`I've sent them all!' the King cried in a tone of delight, on
seeing Alice. `Did you happen to meet any soldiers, my dear, as
you came through the wood?'
`Yes, I did,' said Alice: several thousand, I should think.'
`Four thousand two hundred and seven, that's the exact number,'
the King said, referring to his book. `I couldn't send all the
horses, you know, because two of them are wanted in the game.
And I haven't sent the two Messengers, either. They're both gone
to the town. Just look along the road, and tell me if you can
see either of them.'
`I see nobody on the road,' said Alice.
`I only wish I had such eyes,' the King remarked in a fretful
tone. `To be able to see Nobody! And at that distance, too!
Why, it's as much as I can do to see real people, by this
light!'
All this was lost on Alice, who was still looking intently
along the road, shading her eyes with one hand. `I see somebody
now!' she exclaimed at last. `But he's coming very slowly -- and
what curious attitudes he goes into!' (For the messenger kept
skipping up and down, and wriggling like an eel, as he came
along, with his great hands spread out like fans on each side.)
`Not at all,' said the King. `He's an Anglo-Saxon Messenger --
and those are Anglo-Saxon attitudes. He only does them when
he's happy. His name ia Haigha.' (He pronounced it so as to
rhyme with `mayor.'
`I love my love with an H,' Alice couldn't help beginning,'
because he is Happy. I hate him with an H, because he is
Hideous. I fed him with -- with -- with Ham-sandwiches and Hay.
His name is Haigha, and he lives -- '
`He lives on the Hill,' the King remarked simply, without the
least idea that he was joining in the game, while Alice was still
hesitating for the name of a town beginning with H. `The other
Messenger's called Hatta. I must have two, you know -- to come
and go. Once to come, and one to go.'
`I beg your pardon?' said Alice.
`It isn't respectable to beg,' said the King.
`I only meant that I didn't understand,' said Alice. `Why one
to come and one to go?'
`Don't I tell you?' the King repeated impatiently. `I must
have Two -- to fetch and carry. One to fetch, and one to carry.'
At this moment the Messenger arrived: he was far too much out
of breath to say a word, and could only wave his hands about, and
make the most fearful faces at the poor King.
`This young lady loves you with an H,' the King said,
introducing Alice in the hope of turning off the Messenger's
attention from himself -- but it was no use -- the Anglo-Saxon
attitudes only got more extraordinary every moment, while the
great eyes rolled wildly from side to side.
`You alarm me!' said the King. `I feel faint -- Give me a ham
sandwich!'
On which the Messenger, to Alice's great amusement, opened a
bag that hung round his neck, and handed a sandwich to the King,
who devoured it greedily.
`Another sandwich!' said the King.
`There's nothing but hay left now,' the Messenger said, peeping
into the bag.
`Hay, then,' the King murmured in a faint whisper.
Alice was glad to see that it revived him a good deal.
`There's nothing like eating hay when you're faint,' he remarked
to her, as he munched away.
`I should think throwing cold water over you would be better,'
Alice suggested: `or some sal-volatile.'
`I didn't say there was nothing better,' the King replied. `I
said there was nothing like it.' Which Alice did not venture to
deny.
`Who did you pass on the road?' the King went on, holding out
his hand to the Messenger for some more hay.
