Министерство образования и науки Российской Федерации

Федеральное агентство по образованию

Государственное образовательное учреждение

высшего профессионального образования

«Тобольский государственный педагогический институт

имени Д.И. Менделеева»

ТЕОРИЯ И ПРАКТИКА ПЕРЕВОДА

Учебно-методические рекомендации для организации

самостоятельной работы на отделении заочного обучения

(4, 5, 6 семестры сокращённой образовательной программы)

составитель:

к.ф.н., ст. преподаватель

Фомина Н.В.

Тобольск – 2008

Содержание

1. Памятка студенту заочного отделения

2. МЕТОДИЧЕСКИЕ РЕКОМЕНДАЦИИ СТУДЕНТУ ПО ИЗУЧЕНИЮ ДИСЦИПЛИНЫ «теория и практика перевода»

3. рабочая программа по дисциплине «Теория и практика перевода»

4. содержание дисциплины (лекционные, практические занятия, самостоятельная работа студентов)

5. Учебно-методическое обеспечение дисциплины

6. материальнотехническое обеспечение дисциплины

7. задания, методические рекомендации и материалы по выполнению самостоятельной работы по дисциплине «Теория и практика перевода»

8. МЕТОДИКА ПРОВЕДЕНИЯ контрольных мероприятий

8.1. МЕТОДИКА ПРОВЕДЕНИЯ СРЕЗОВОЙ КОНТРОЛЬНОЙ РАБОТЫ

8.2. примерные вопросы к зачету по курсу «теория и практика перевода»

1. Памятка студенту заочного отделения

В соответствии с учебным планом специальности, разработанным на основе ГОС ВПО, и графиком учебного процесса студенту заочного отделения за весь период его обучения предстоит выполнить в среднем 15-20 контрольных работ. При этом общий объем времени на выполнение всех контрольных (домашних) работ в течение всего периода обучения составляет примерно 8-12 % от общего объема часов теоретического обучения.

Обучение студента заочного отделения проходит в этапы активного сессионного академического обучения и пассивного межсессионного периода, в который студент ОЗО работает самостоятельно по проблематике того или иного курса, руководствуясь методическими указаниями по дисциплинам осваиваемой специальности и предоставленными кафедрами учебно-методическими материалами.

Не стоит забывать о том, что для того, чтобы получить допуск к сессии, нужно сдать контрольные работы заранее: лично во время посещения института в дни заочников, по традиционной почте заказным письмом или по электронной почте на адрес кафедры (деканата)! Если у вас не получилось отчитаться о выполнении контрольной работы до начала сессии, то разрешается зарегистрировать требуемые работы у методиста ОЗО в течение первых двух дней сессии .

Перед тем, как преподаватель получит выполненную студентом контрольную (или курсовую) работу, ее необходимо зарегистрировать на факультете в журнале учета рецензирования контрольных и курсовых работ, который оформляется методистом ОЗО по каждой дисциплине. Методист ОЗО регистрирует поступившие работы, указывая на каждой их них регистрационный номер и дату получения, после чего передает их на проверку соответствующим преподавателям.

Контрольные (курсовые) работы студентов рецензируются и возвращаются преподавателем в течение семи дней . Если работа выполнена студентом не в соответствии с шифром (вариантом), не по установленным кафедрой указаниям или несамостоятельно, то она возвращается студенту без рецензирования. В этом случае преподаватель в устной (в случае проживания студента в г. Тобольске) или письменной форме объясняет студенту причины возвращения и предлагает выполнить работу в соответствии с установленными правилами.

Контрольная работа, признанная рецензентом удовлетворительной, оценивается «зачтено»; контрольная работа, признанная рецензентом неудовлетворительной, - «не зачтено». При этом повторная работа рецензируется в том случае, если к ней приложена ранее не зачтенная работа.

Результат рецензирования на основании полученной рецензии переносится методистом ОЗО в журнал учета, а затем в учебную карточку студента.

Контрольные (курсовые) работы студентов-заочников хранятся по курсам и дисциплинам на соответствующих кафедрах в течение учебного года.

Кроме этого не забудьте обязательно оплатить наступающую сессию: без копии квитанции, предъявленной методисту по приезду, студента до сессии не допустят, согласно статьям договора, который каждый студент ОЗО подписывает до начала обучения в ТГПИ им.Д.И.Менделеева, соглашаясь с поставленными со стороны ВУЗа условиями предоставления образовательных услуг!

1. МЕТОДИЧЕСКИЕ РЕКОМЕДАЦИИ СТУДЕНТУ ПО ИЗУЧЕНИЮ ДИСЦИПЛИНЫ «ТЕОРИЯ И ПРАКТИКА ПЕРЕВОДА»

Дисциплина «Теория и практика перевода» ориентирует на подготовку к выполнению основных видов профессиональной деятельности учителя иностранного языка: учебно-воспитательной, социально-педагогической, культурно-просветительной и научно-методической. Целью курса страноведения является формирование педагогической личности студента, стимулирование познавательных интересов в области выбранной профессии, развитие творческой активности и формирование профессионального владения иностранным языком в процессе изучения страноведческого материала.

Для успешного овладения дисциплиной «Теория и практика перевода» студент должен знать:

· определенный минимум наиболее употребительных слов;

• основы грамматики английского языка
• жанровые лексические и грамматические особенности английского языка
• классификацию переводов и других видов переводческой деятельности
• знать понятия «вольный перевод», «буквальный перевод», адекватный перевод»
• основные модели перевода и переводческие трансформации
• основные способы и приемы перевода, типы переводов, типы эквивалентности при переводе
• основные принципы перевода связного текста и о свободных и фразеологических словосочетаниях в его составе;
• грамматические и стилистические аспекты перевода;
• методы оценки качества перевода;

Уметь:

- правильно осознавать цель перевода и его прагматическую установку;

- определять смысловое содержание текста-оригинала, относящегося к широко специальным и узкоспециальным областям науки и техники;

- адекватно выбирать необходимую стратегию перевода в зависимости от жанровой принадлежности переводимого текста;

- извлекать необходимую информацию из текста и передавать её средствами другого языка в зависимости от целей коммуникации;

- производить морфологические и синтаксические преобразования различных видов;

- осуществлять лексико-синтаксические модификации и необходимые стилистические приемы;

- соотносить аббревиатуры, символы, формулы с аналогами в родном языке;

- использовать словари различных типов, банки данных, интернет и другие источники информации;

- редактировать перевод, устраняя лексико-грамматические, семантические и стилистические ошибки;

- оформлять перевод в соответствии с требованиями Государственного стандарта.

3. рабочая программа по дисциплине «ТЕОРИЯ И ПРАКТИКА ПЕРЕВОДА»

Настоящая программа предназначена для отделения английского языка факультета иностранных языков педагогических вузов. Дисциплина «Теория и практика перевода» ориентирует на подготовку к выполнению основных видов профессиональной деятельности учителя иностранного языка: учебно-воспитательной, социально-педагогической, культурно-просветительной и научно-методической.

1. Цели и задачи дисциплины

Изучение практического курса иностранного языка способствует решению типовых задач профессиональной деятельности:

В области учебно-воспитательной деятельности :

· осуществление процесса обучения иностранному языку в соответствии с образовательной программой;

· планирование и проведение учебных занятий по иностранному языку с учетом специфики тем и разделов программы и в соответствии с учебным планом;

· использование современных научно обоснованных приемов, методов и средств обучения, информационных и компьютерных технологий;

· реализация личностно-ориентированного подхода к образованию и развитию обучающихся с целью создания мотивации к обучению;

· применение современных средств оценивания результатов обучения;

В области социально-педагогической деятельности :

· оказание помощи в социализации учащихся;

· проведение профориентационной работы;

В области культурно-просветительной деятельности :

· формирование общей культуры учащихся;

В области научно-методической деятельности :

· выполнение научно-методической работы.

Целью данного курса является последовательное и всестороннее изучение особенностей английского языка в его коммуникативных разновидностях, совершенствование навыков и умений перевода различных структур с английского языка на русский.

В задачи курса входит:

1. расширение лингвистической теоретической и практической базы студентов на основе более глубокого изучения всех языковых аспектов английского языка и их функционирования в различных жанрах литературы;
2. формирование у студентов навыков правильного понимания английского текста;
3. формирование у студентов умения полно и точно передавать это содержание средствами русского языка.
4. ознакомление со структурными расхождениями языков (оригинала и транслята);
5. овладение основными приемами перевода в сфере основной профессиональной деятельности;
6. формирование умений преодолевать грамматические, лексико-фразеологические, дискурсивные и стилистические трудности при переводе с английского языка на русский.

2. Требования к уровню освоения содержания дисциплины

Студент, изучивший дисциплину, должен:

знать:

основные модели перевода и переводческие трансформации; основные способы и приемы перевода, типы переводов, типы эквивалентности при переводе; основные принципы перевода связного текста и о свободных и фразеологических словосочетаниях в его составе;

уметь:

· пользоваться справочными изданиями; конспектировать и реферировать оригинальную литературу и давать необходимый комментарий; сопоставлять словарные статьи из разных источников;

владеть:

· навыками переводческого анализа и способами перевода;

иметь представление:

· о современном состоянии теории перевода, об основных проблемах и трудностях, связанных с переводом с одного языка на другой.

3. Объем дисциплины и виды учебной работы

4. Содержание дисциплины

4.1. Разделы дисциплины и виды занятий

4.2.Содержание разделов дисциплины

4.2.1. Лекционный курс не предусмотрен

4.2.2. Практические занятия[1]

4.2.3. Задания для самостоятельной работы студентов[2]

Лабораторный практикум не предусмотрен

5. Учебно-методическое обеспечение дисциплины

Рекомендуемая литература

Основная:

Комиссаров В.Н. Современное переводоведение. - М.: Изд-во «ЭТС», 2001. – 320с.

Лилова А. Введение в общую теорию перевода. - М.: Высшая школа, 2000.

Рецкер Я.И. Теория перевода и переводческая практика. - М. : высшая школа, 2002.

Федоров А.В. Основы общей теории перевода. - М.: Высшая школа, 2003.

Швейцер А.Д. Переводи лингвистика. - М.: Наука, 2001.

Дополнительная литература

Бархударов Л.С. Язык и перевод. М.: Наука, 1975.

Власов С., Флорин С. Непереводимое в переводе. М.: Прсвещение, 1980.

Гарбовский Н.К. Теория перевода. - М.: МГУ, 2004.

Ермолович Д.И. Основы профессионального перевода. М.: МГУ, 1996.

Крупнов В.Н. Курс перевода. М.: Наука, 1978

Латышев Л.К. Курс перевода (Эквивалентность перевода и способы ее достижения). М.: Наука, 1984.

Романова С.П., Коралова А.Л. Пособие по переводу с английского языка на русский. М.: МГУ, 1995.

Рецкер Я.И. Пособие по переводу с английского на русский. М.:МГУ, 1988.

Тюленев С.В. Теория перевода. - М.: МГУ, 2004. – 120с.

Федоров А.В. Основы общей теории перевода. - СПб.: СПбГУ, 2002. – 234с.

Швейцер А.Д. Теория перевода: статус, проблемы, аспекты. - М.: «Наука», 1998. – 250с.

Catford J.C. A Linguistic Theory of Translation. OUP, 1965.

6. Материально-техническое обеспечение дисциплины

Для наиболее эффективного освоения дисциплины в распоряжение студентов в ВУЗе предоставлены:

· Классы и аудитории с компьютерным обеспечением:

Каб. 204, Мультимедийный кабинет:

1. Головной компьютер:

Система: Microsoft Windows XP Professional 2002 Service Pack 2

Компьютер: Intel Pentium (R) 4 CPU 3.00 Hz 3.01 ГГц, 512 мб ОЗУ

2. Рабочие компьютеры – 12 шт.

Система: Microsoft Windows XP Professional 2002 Service Pack 2

Компьютеры: Intel Pentium (R) 4 CPU 2.66 Hz 2.67 ГГц, 480 мб ОЗУ

3. Проектор: NEC VI 58 LCD

4. Принтер: MB 218

5. Экран 213 х 213

Каб. 202, Мультимедийный кабинет:

1. Головной компьютер:

Система: Microsoft Windows XP Professional 2002 Service Pack 2

Компьютер: Intel Pentium (R) 4 CPU 3.00 Hz 3.01 ГГц, 512 мб ОЗУ

2. Рабочие компьютеры – 12 шт.

Система: Microsoft Windows XP Professional 2002 Service Pack 2

Компьютеры: Intel Pentium (R) 4 CPU 2.66 Hz 2.67 ГГц, 480 мб ОЗУ

3. Проектор: Мультимедийный LCD проектор Toshiba S 20

4. Принтер: MB 218

5. Экран 213 х 213

6. учебно-наглядные пособия: таблицы дингвострановедческого характера.

7. Учебная практика (не предусмотрена)

7. Задания, методические рекомендации и материалы по выполнению самостоятельной работы по дисциплине «Теория и практика перевода»

Задание:

6. Выполнить адекватный перевод данной статьи на русский язык, уделяя особое внимание жанровой специфике текста.

7. Подобрать, по возможности, адекватную замену английским реалиям.

8. Найти адекватный способ передачи названий английских пабов: калькирование, транслитерация, транскрипция, перевод, замена соответствующего понятия реалиями русского языка.

9. Используя справочную литературу, найти значения Pub hours

10. Выписать в словарь значения выделенных курсивом слов и словосочетаний

Методические указания:

Данный текст представляет собой пример разговорной английской речи. В нем много сленговых выражений, а также вульгаризмов, требующих соответствующей переработки при переводе на русский язык. Следует учитывать, что степень «вульгарности» английских и русских слов не совпадает, поэтому при переводе английских вульгаризмов следует подыскивать более «мягкие» соответствующие выражения в русском языке.

В тексте встречается несколько примеров английских реалий: John Motson, Armitage Shanks. Информацию о них следует искать в сети Интернет.

Игра слов также требует особого внимания. Следует избегать дословного перевода следующих слов и словосочетаний: testosterone studies, I didn’t score so much as an own goal, to score, to be brought up by John bleedin’ Motson.

Перевод заголовка статьи рекомендуется переводить после прочтения и перевода всей статьи.

Great to drink at the Gate, yeah

By Edward Sullivan 20.07.00

Being a good Catholic lad, I avert my gaze whenever I see a silk chemise sliding down the svelte body of a dusky young maiden; choose to ignore the occasional stray, glistening hair which she wouldn't normally want to be seen as public property; and would never comment on her physiological response to fluctuating ambient temperatures . The rest of the world, however, is not so pure of mind.

And so it was revealed when a few weeks ago I bumped into two readers, Tim German and Andrew Dyer, who are both recent graduates in testosterone studies from the University Of Hull. 'Why don't you do a piece one week on pulling joints?' asked Tim. Pulling? 'Yeah, you know, places to score. Scoring as in... Yes, I know what scoring is, I wasn't brought up by John bleedin' Motson, you know.

Curiously enough, the following day I received a similar request in a missive from another reader who named himself as Simon Smith - please note, only friends and regular acquaintances enjoy the anonymity of having their surname removed from these pages. That's because they know where I live and might come round and shout at me. 'Are there any pubs we can go to for a bit of sexual activity?' he enquired.

It materialises he'd misinterpreted one of my reviews in which I described a place 'suitable for clandestine liaisons' , went there, tried to have a bit of rumpy pumpy with an actress who'd appeared in an Armitage Shanks training video (the mind boggles ), was told off and eventually was asked to leave the premises. Anyway, I'm thinking about your suggestions guys, but I've a lot of research to do first. Meanwhile, I've been separating the wheat from the chaff in Notting Hill Gate and didn't score so much as an own goal. But then again, I wasn't playing football.

The Churchill Arms

Was there ever a more English pub than this one? It has an extrovert Irish landlord, a succession of young Australians, New Zealanders and Irish staff behind the bar, ten Thais in the kitchen and pictures of every prime minister since 1721 on the walls. Winston himself beams from the inn sign. He has clearly just had a very good lunch. At the heart of it is the irrepressible Gerry O'Brien of O'Gonnelloe, a little parish in County Clare so idyllic that tears come to his eyes when he talks of it. I dare say that when he's in O'Gonnelloe tears come to his eyes when he talks of Kensington Church Street.

In his 16 years at the Churchill he has transformed its appearance and its fortunes. He turned the garage and the backyard into a conservatory seating 70 and then introduced London to the wonders of Thai food. Meanwhile, the rest of the pub has hugely prospered with record sales of London Pride, Chiswick Bitter and ESB. For far too many years to remember it has been Fuller's most profitable pub and it is, as always, one of London's most sociable.
119 Kensington Church Street , W8 (020-7727 4242). Pub hours.

Pharmacy

This was probably London's most talked-about bar and restaurant towards the close of the last millennium. It came a cropper with the authorities for using the name Pharmacy, who presumably feared that it would confuse little old ladies who might be popping in for a tube of Anusol. So it was 'Army Chap' for a while before reverting to its original name and satisfying the relevant authorities by clearly stating it was a 'bar and restaurant'.

It also became a talking point for its invidious Damien Hirst artwork but, despite this and other problems, it became a fashionable destination for those on expense accounts or those to whom money doesn't matter. Late last year, it merged with the Hartford Group - owners of Montana, Canyon, Dakota, Idaho and Utah - but its pharmaceutically themed interior remains intact. Cocktails were good in the old days but a recent visit proved they are no panacea to the dark and dingy surroundings of the ground-floor bar.
150 Notting Hill Gate, W11 (020-7221 2442). Mon-Thur noon-3pm & 6pm-1am, Fri noon-3pm & 6pm-2am, Sat noon-2am, Sun noon-midnight.

The Windsor Castle

The Windsor Castle is part of the Eton drinking round, one of a handful of London pubs where Old Etonians meet, and is one of the most upmarket pubs in London. Its creaky old bars get extraordinarily busy most of the week but it's the attractive walled garden, with its own bar, that is the success during the summer months, when the capacity of the pub trebles . The pub's kitchen has a high reputation with a roster of cooks producing pesto salad, vegetable couscous and suchlike throughout the week.

On Sundays you can have a traditional roast lunch or just snack on the sausages and mustard, and there is a no-smoking section in the Campden Bar at lunchtimes. A remarkable story is told about The Windsor Castle. When Tom Paine, author of The Rights Of Man, died in America in 1809, the journalist and social reformer William Cobbett had his bones shipped back to England. Cobbett himself died before he could put up his planned memorial to Paine, and left the bones to his son, who, years later, traded them to the landlord of The Windsor Castle to settle a beer debt. They were then lodged in one of the cellars, which was subsequently filled in.
114 Campden Hill Road , W8 (020-7243 9551). Pub hours.

The Ladbroke Arms

The Ladbroke is a handsome early-Victorian pub that was noticeably unshining until recent years, and a recent, sensitive refurbishment has increased the seating capacity and brightened up the atmosphere. The key to its renaissance, though, was bright, friendly new staff and a radical change in the kitchen, astonishing the customers with food you actually wanted to eat. Dishes include rib-eye steak with herb butter (£11.50) and linguini with ricotta, courgettes , olive and basil (£8.50). There are good cask ales - Old Speckled Hen, Wadworth 6X and Greene King Abbot ale - and the wine list isn't bad either. The raised terrace outside is famously crowded all summer.
54 Ladbroke Road , W11 (020-7727 6648). Pub hours.

The Sun In Splendour

A Victorian local on the corner of Portobello Road, particularly lively every Saturday with much coming and going of stall-holders, collectors, bargain-hunters and tourists. The locals have it the rest of the week. The bar has gaming machines and the sporting event of the moment on television. A high-walled triangular yard at the back is an unexpectedly pleasant place for a quiet lunch during the week and a noisy one at weekends.

Taking up its fair share of space here is the pool table. There aren't many open-air pool tables in London so when it rains there's a rush to put the covers on. This is the heart of lager country but Hoegaarden and Fuller's London Pride are agreeable alternatives to the staple diet. The food menu seems somewhat ambitious for the area: avocado and new potato salad (£6), tagliatelle with roasted peppers (£6.95), and lighter dishes including brie and roast peppers (£4.50).
7 Portobello Road , W11 (020-7313 9331). Pub hours.

The Mall Tavern

Smart name, smart address. Smart pub, actually, if you like an interior with a hint of a Victorian parlour. Squashy, high-backed armchairs nestle alongside sit-up-and-beg hardwood furniture in a comfortable, relaxed environment conjuring images of more genteel times. Its charm lies in its curious interior: the burnt orange and green drapes clash wonderfully with the red-patterned carpet and posies of flowers on the tables tremble when the jukebox gets too loud. There's a bar billiard table in one room - if anyone remembers how to play this most traditional of traditional pub games. This is a Whitbread pub, which means some thundering good ales: Adnams Bitter, Flowers Original, Boddingtons and Fuller's London Pride. The courtyard at the back provides a calm oasis from the thundering traffic rolling past the pub's front door.
71-73 Palace Gardens Terrace, W8 (020-7727-3805). Pub hours.

The Hillgate Arms

This small but perfectly formed traditional pub is a locals' local in a quiet backwater off Notting Hill Gate. There is just room for tables and small benches along the outside walls, and it's hard enough getting a seat at any time, let alone when the sun comes out. The Hillgate Arms has luxuriant window boxes, hanging baskets and tubs, and an interior of horse brasses, pewter and the like. The home-cooking includes an extensive sandwich menu at £2.65 each and main courses of grill, fries, pastas and fish dishes at around £5-£7. Greene King Abbot Ale and Shepherd Neame Spitfire Ale are the best beer offerings.
24 Hillgate Street, W8 (020-7727 8543). Pub hours.

***

Задание:

1. Сделать письменный литературный перевод рассказа Рея Бредбэри «Wonderful Ice-Cream Suit”
2. Найти соответствующие английским метафорам русские метафоры
3. Перевести встречающиеся в тексте атрибутивные конструкции в соответствии с правилами перевода подобных конструкций на русский язык.
4. Подумать над способом перевода авторских метафор.
5. Разобраться с мерами длины и веса.
6. Найти соответствующие нормы передачи имен собственных: Martinez, Dominguez, Villanazul, Gomez.

Методические указания:

Данный рассказ представляет собой современный разговорный американский вариант английского языка. Здесь также много сленговых выражений и слов. Текст изобилует метафорами и атрибутивными конструкциями, столь нетипичными для русского языка. Перевод таких конструкций требует описательного перевода.

Диалоги и монологи героев рассказа изобилуют испанскими словами. Перевод иностранных слов не требуется, в тексте они остаются в том же самом виде, что и в оригинале.

Следует также учитывать специфичност речи героев рассказа. В основном их речь отличается безграмотностью и сопровождается стилистически сниженной лексикой, поэтому при переводе нужно адекватно передать их характерную речь при помощи лексико-грамматических трансформаций (генерализация, компенсация, антонимический перевод, экспликация, конкретизация).

THE WONDERFUL ICE CREAM SUIT

It was summer twilight in the city, and out front of the quiet-clicking pool hall* three young Mexican-American men breathed the warm air and looked around at the world. Sometimes they talked and sometimes they said nothing at all but watched the cars glide by like black panthers on the hot asphalt or saw trolleys loom up like thun­derstorms, scatter lightning, and rumble away into silence.

"Hey," sighed Martinez at last. He was the youngest, the most sweetly sad of the three. "It's a swell night, huh? Swell."

As he observed the world it moved very close and then drifted away and then came close again. People, brushing by, were suddenly across the street. Buildings five miles away suddenly leaned over him. But most of the time everything—peo­ple, cars, and buildings—stayed way out on the edge of the world and could not be touched. On this quiet warm summer evening Martinez's face was cold.

"Nights like this you wish ... lots of things."

"Wishing," said the second man, Villanazul, a man who shouted books out loud in his room but spoke only in whispers on the street. "Wishing is the useless pastime of the unemployed."

"Unemployed?" cried Vamenos, the unshaven. "Listen to him! We got no jobs, no money!"

"So," said Martinez, "we got no friends."

"True." Villanazul gazed off toward the green plaza where the palm trees swayed in the soft night wind. "Do you know what I wish? I wish to go into that plaza and speak among the business­men who gather there nights to talk big talk. But dressed as I am, poor as I am, who would listen? So, Martinez, we have each other. The friendship of the poor is real friendship. We—"

But now a handsome young Mexican with a fine thin mustache strolled by. And on each of his careless arms hung a laughing woman.

"Madre miaV* Martinez slapped his own brow. "How does that one rate two friends?"*

"It's his nice new white summer suit." Vamenos chewed a black thumbnail. "He looks sharp."*

Martinez leaned out to watch the three people moving away, and then at the tenement across the street, in one fourth-floor window of which, far above, a beautiful girl leaned out, her dark hair faintly stirred by the wind. She had been there forever, which was to say for six weeks. He had nodded, he had raised a hand, he had smiled, he had blinked rapidly, he had even bowed to her, on the street, in the hall when visiting friends, in the park, downtown. Even now, he put his hand up from his waist and moved his fingers. But all the lovely girl did was let the summer wind stir her dark hair. He did not exist. He was nothing.

"Madre mial" He looked away and down the street where the man walked his two friends around a corner. "Oh, if just I had one suit, one! I wouldn't need money if I looked okay."

"I hesitate to suggest," said Villanazul, "that you see Gomez. But he's been talking some crazy talk for a month now about clothes. I keep on saying I'll be in on it* to make him go away. That Gomez."

"Friend," said a quiet voice.

"Gomez!" Everyone turned to stare.

Smiling strangely, Gomez pulled forth an end­less thin yellow ribbon which fluttered and swirled on the summer air.

"Gomez," said Martinez, "what you doing with that tape measure?"

Gomez beamed. "Measuring people's skele­tons."

"Skeletons!"

"Hold on." Gomez squinted at Martinez. "Carambal* Where you been all my life! Let's try youV

Martinez saw his arm seized and taped, his leg measured, his chest encircled.

"Hold still!" cried Gomez. "Arm—perfect. Leg—chest—perfect* Now quick, the height! There! Yes! Five foot five!* You're in! Shake!"* Pumping Martinez's hand, he stopped suddenly.* "Wait. You got ... ten bucks?"

"I have!" Vamenos waved some grimy bills. "Gomez, measure me!"

"All I got left in the world is nine dollars and ninety-two cents." Martinez searched his pockets. "That's enough for a new suit? Why?"

"Why? Because you got the right skeleton, that's why!"

"Senor Gomez, I don't hardly know you—"

"Know me? You're going to live with me! Come on!"

Gomez vanished into the poolroom. Martinez, escorted by the polite Villanazul, pushed by an eager Vamenos, found himself inside.

"Domfnguez!" said Gomez.

Dominguez, at a wall telephone, winked at them. A woman's voice squeaked on the receiver.

"Manulo!" said Gomez.

Manulo, a wine bottle tilted bubbling to his mouth, turned.

Gomez pointed at Martinez.

"At last we found our fifth volunteer!"

Dominguez said, "I got a date, don't bother me—" and stopped. The receiver slipped from his fingers. His little black telephone book full of fine names and numbers went quickly back into his pocket. "Gomez, you—?"

"Yes, yes! Your money, now! AndaleV*

The woman's voice sizzled on the dangling phone.Dominguez glanced at it uneasily.

Manulo considered the empty wine bottle in his hand and the liquor-store sign across the street.

Then very reluctantly both men laid ten dollars each on the green velvet pool table.

Villanazul, amazed, did likewise, as did Gomez, nudging Martinez. Martinez counted out his wrin­kled bills and change. Gomez flourished the money like a royal flush.

"Fifty bucks! The suit costs sixty! All we need is ten bucks!"

"Wait," said Martinez. "Gomez, are we talking about one suit? UnoT*

"Unol" Gomez raised a finger. "One wonderful white ice cream summer suit! White, white as the August moon!"

"But who will own this one suit?"

"Me!" said Manulo.

"Me!" said Dominguez.

"Me!" said Villanazul.

"Me!" cried Gomez. "And you, Martinez. Men, let's show him. Line up!"

Villanazul, Manulo, Dominguez, and Gomez rushed to plant their backs against the poolroom wall.

"Martinez, you too, the other end, line up! Now, Vamenos, lay that billiard cue across our heads!"

"Sure, Gomez, sure!"

Martinez, in line, felt the cue tap his head and leaned out to see what was happening. "Ah!" he gasped. The cue lay flat on all their heads, with no rise or fall, as Vamenos slid it along, grinning.

"We're all the same height!" said Martinez.

"The same!" Everyone laughed.

Gomez ran down the line, rustling the yellow tape measure here and there on the men so they laughed even more wildly.

"Sure!" he said. "It took a month, four weeks, mind you, to find four guys the same size and shape as me, a month of running around measur­ing. Sometimes I found guys with five-foot-five skeletons, sure, but all the meat on their bones was too much or not enough. Sometimes their bones were too long in the legs or too short in the arms. Boy, all the bones! I tell you! But now, five of us, same shoulders, chests, waists, arms, and as for weight? Men!"

Manulo, Domfnguez, Villanazul, Gomez, and at last Martinez stepped onto the scales which flipped ink-stamped cards at them as Vamenos, still smiling wildly, fed pennies. Heart pounding, Martinez read the cards.

"One hundred thirty-five pounds ... one thirty-six ... one thirty-three ... one thirty-four ... one thirty-seven ... a miracle!"

"No," said Villanazul simply, "Gomez."

They all smiled upon that genius who now cir­cled them with his arms.

"Are we not fine?" he wondered. "All the same size, all the same dream—the suit. So each of us will look beautiful at least one night each week, eh?"

"I haven't looked beautiful in years," said Martinez. "The girls run away."

"They will run no more, they will freeze," said Gomez, "when they see you in the cool white summer ice cream suit."

"Gomez," said Villanazul, "just let me ask one thing."

"Of course, compadre."*

"When we get this nice new white ice cream summer suit, some night you're not going to put it on and walk down to the Greyhound bus* in it and go live in El Paso for a year in it, are you?"

"Villanazul, Villanazul, how can you say that?"

"My eye sees and my tongue moves," said Vil­lanazul. "How about the Everybody Winsl* Punch-board Lotteries you ran and you kept running when nobody won? How about the United Chili Con Carne and Frijole Company* you were going to organize and all that ever happened was the rent ran out on a two-by-four office?"

"The errors of a child now grown," said Gomez. "Enough! In this hot weather someone may buy the special suit that is made just for us that stands waiting in the window of SHUM-WAY'S SUNSHINE SUITS! We have fifty dol­lars. Now we need just one more skeleton!"

Martinez saw the men peer around the pool hall. He looked where they looked. He felt his eyes hurry past Vamenos, then come reluctantly back to examine his dirty shirt, his huge nicotined fingers.

"Me!" Vamenos burst out at last. "My skele­ton, measure it, it's great! Sure, my hands are big, and my arms, from digging ditches! But—"

Just then Martinez heard passing on the side­walk outside that same terrible man with his two girls, all laughing together.

He saw anguish move like the shadow of a summer cloud on the faces of the other men in this poolroom. Slowly Vamenos stepped onto the scales and dropped his penny. Eyes closed, he breathed a prayer.

"Madre mia, please...."

The machinery whirred; the card fell out. Vamenos opened his eyes.

"Look! One thirty-five pounds! Another mir­acle!"

The men stared at his right hand and the card, at his left hand and a soiled ten-dollar bill. Gomez swayed. Sweating, he licked his lips. Then his hand shot out, seized the money.

"The clothing store! The suit! Vamos\"*

Yelling, everyone ran from the poolroom.

The woman's voice was still squeaking on the abandoned telephone. Martinez, left behind, reached out and hung the voice up. In the silence he shook his head. "Santos, what a dream! Six men," he said, "one suit. What will come of this?

Madness? Debauchery? Murder? But I go with God. Gomez, wait for me!"

Martmez was young. He ran fast.

Mr. Shumway, of SHUMWAY'S SUNSHINE SUITS, paused while adjusting a tie rack, aware of some subtle atmospheric change outside his estab­lishment.

"Leo," he whispered to his assistant. "Look...."

Outside, one man, Gomez, strolled by, looking in. Two men, Manulo and Dominguez, hurried by, staring in. Three men, Villanazul, Martinez, and Vamenos, jostling shoulders, did the same.

"Leo." Mr. Shumway swallowed. "Call the po­lice!"

Suddenly six men filled the doorway.

Martmez, crushed among them, his stomach slightly upset, his face feeling feverish, smiled so wildly at Leo that Leo let go the telephone.

"Hey," breathed Martinez, eyes wide. "There's a great suit over there!"

"No." Manulo touched a lapel. "This one!"

"There is only one suit in all the world!" said Gomez coldly. "Mr. Shumway, the ice cream white, size thirty-four, was in your window just an hour ago! It's gone! You didn't—"

"Sell it?" Mr. Shumway exhaled. "No, no. In the dressing room.* It's still on the dummy."

Martinez did not know if he moved and moved the crowd or if the crowd moved and moved him. Suddenly they were all in motion. Mr. Shumway, running, tried to keep ahead of the "This way, gents. Now which of you....?"

"All for one, one for all!" Martinez heard him­self say, and laughed. "We'll all try it on!"

"All?" Mr. Shumway clutched at the booth curtain as if his shop were a steamship that had suddenly tilted in a great swell. He stared.

That's it, thought Martinez, look at our smiles. Now, look at the skeletons behind our smiles! Measure here, there, up, down, yes, do you see.

Mr. Shumway saw. He nodded. He shrugged.

"All!" He jerked the curtain. "There! Buy it, and I'll throw in the dummy free!"

Martinez peered quietly into the booth, his motion drawing the others to peer too.

The suit was there.

And it was white.

Martinez could not breathe. He did not want to. He did not need to. He was afraid his breath would melt the suit. It was enough, just looking.

But at last he took a great trembling breath and exhaled, whispering, "Ay. * Ay, carambal"

"It puts out my eyes," murmured Gomez.

"Mr. Shumway," Martinez heard Leo hissing. "Ain't it dangerous precedent, to sell it? I mean, what if everybody bought one suit for six people?"

"Leo," said Mr. Shumway, "you ever hear one single fifty-nine-dollar suit make so many people happy at the same time before?"

"Angels' wings," murmured Martinez. "The wings of white angels."

Martinez felt Mr. Shumway peering over his shoulder into the booth. The pale glow filled his eyes.

"You know something, Leo?" he said in awe. "That's a suit."

Gomez, shouting, whistling, ran up to the third-floor landing and turned to wave to the oth­ers, who staggered, laughed, stopped, and had to sit down on the steps below.

"Tonight!" cried Gomez. "Tonight you move in with me, eh? Save rent as well as clothes, eh? Sure! Martinez, you got the suit?"

"Have I?" Martinez lifted the white gift-wrapped box* high. "From us to us! Ay-hahl"*

"Vamenos, you got the dummy?"

"Here!"

Vamenos, chewing an old cigar, scattering sparks, slipped. The dummy, falling, toppled, turned over twice, and banged down the stairs.

"Vamenos! Dumb! Clumsy!"

They seized the dummy from him. Stricken, Vamenos looked about as if he'd lost something.

Manulo snapped his fingers. "Hey, Vamenos, we got to celebrate! Go borrow some wine!"

Vamenos plunged downstairs in a whirl of sparks.

The others moved into the room with the suit, leaving Martinez in the hall to study Gomez's face.

"Gomez, you look sick."

"I am," said Gomez. "For what have I done?"

He nodded to the shadows in the room working about the dummy. "I pick Domfnguez, a devil with the women. All right. I pick Manulo, who drinks, yes, but who sings as sweet as a girl, eh? Okay. Villanazul reads books. You, you wash be­hind your ears. But then what do I do? Can I wait? No! I got to buy that suit! So the last guy I pick is a clumsy slob who has the right to wear my suit—" He stopped, confused. "Who gets to wear our suit one night a week, fall down in it, or not come in out of the rain in it! Why, why, why did I do it!"

"Gomez," whispered Villanazul from the room. "The suit is ready. Come see if it looks as good using your light bulb."

Gomez and Martinez entered.

And there on the dummy in the center of the room was the phosphorescent, the miraculously white-fired ghost with the incredible lapels, the precise stitching, the neat button-holes. Standing with the white illumination of the suit upon his cheeks, Martinez suddenly felt he was in church. White! White! It was white as the whitest vanilla ice cream, as the bottled milk in tenement halls at dawn.* White as a winter cloud all alone in the moonlit sky late at night. Seeing it here in the warm summer-night room made their breath al­most show on the air. Shutting his eyes, he could see it printed on his lids. He knew what color his dreams would be this night.

"White...." murmured Villanazul. "White as the snow on that mountain near our town in Mexico, which is called the Sleeping Woman."

"Say that again," said Gomez.

Villanazul, proud yet humble, was glad to re­peat his tribute.

"...white as the snow on the mountain called-"

"I'm back!"

Shocked, the men whirled to see Vamenos in the door, wine bottles in each hand.

"A party! Here! Now tell us, who wears the suit first tonight? Me?"

"It's too late!" said Gomez.

"Late! It's only nine-fifteen!"

"Late?" said everyone, bristling. "Late?"

Gomez edged away from these men who glared from him to the suit to the open window.

Outside and below it was, after all, thought Martinez, a fine Saturday night in a summer month and through the calm warm darkness the women drifted like flowers on a quiet stream. The men made a mournful sound.

"Gomez, a suggestion." Villanazul licked his pencil and drew a chart on a pad. "You wear the suit from nine-thirty to ten, Manulo till ten-thirty, Domfnguez till eleven, myself till eleven-thirty, Martinez till midnight, and—"

"Why me to?" demanded Vamenos, scowling.

Martinez thought quickly and smiled. "After midnight is the best time, friend."

197

"Hey," said Vamenos, "that's right. I never thought of that. Okay."

Gomez sighed. "All right. A half hour each. But from now on, remember, we each wear the suit just one night a week. Sundays we draw straws for who wears the suit the extra night."

"Me!" laughed Vamenos. "I'm lucky!"

Gomez held onto Martinez, tight.

"Gomez," urged Martinez, "you first. Dress."

Gomez could not tear his eyes from that dis­reputable Vamenos. At last, impulsively, he yanked his shirt off over his head. "Ay-yeah!" he howled. "Ay-yeee\"

Whisper rustle ... the clean shirt.

"Ah...!"

How clean the new clothes feel, thought Martinez, holding the coat ready. How clean they sound, how clean they smell!

Whisper ... the pants ... the tie, rustle ... the suspenders. Whisper ... now Martinez let loose the coat, which fell in place on flexing shoulders.

"O/e!"*

Gomez turned like a matador in his wonderous suit-of-lights.*

"Ole, Gomez, ole\"

Gomez bowed and went out the door.

Martinez fixed his eyes to his watch. At ten sharp he heard someone wandering about in the hall as if they had forgotten where to go. Martinez pulled the door open and looked out.

198

Gomez was there, heading for nowhere.

He looks sick, thought Martinez. No, stunned, shook up, surprised, many things.

"Gomez! This is the place!"

Gomez turned around and found his way through the door.

"Oh, friends, friends," he said. "Friends, what an experience! This suit! This suit!"

"Tell us, Gomez!" said Martinez.

"I can't, how can I say it!" He gazed at the heavens, arms spread, palms up.

"Tell us, Gomez!"

"I have no words, no words. You must see, yourself! Yes, you must see—" And here he lapsed into silence, shaking his head until at last he re­membered they all stood watching him. "Who's next? Manulo?"

Manulo, stripped to his shorts, leapt forward.

"Ready!"

All laughed, shouted, whistled.

Manulo, ready, went out the door. He was gone twenty-nine minutes and thirty seconds. He came back holding to doorknobs, touching the wall, feeling his own elbows, putting the flat of his hand to his face.

"Oh, let me tell you," he said. "Compadres, I went to the bar, eh, to have a drink? But no, I did not go in the bar, do you hear? I did not drink. For as I walked I began to laugh and sing. Why, why? I listened to myself and asked this. Because. The suit made me feel better than wine

199 ever did. The suit made me drunk, drunk! So I went to the Guadalajara Refriteria* instead and played the guitar and sang four songs, very high! The suit, ah, the suit!"

Domfnguez, next to be dressed, moved out through the world, came back from the world.

The black telephone book! thought Martinez. He had it in his hands when he left! Now, he returns, hands empty! What? What?

"On the street," said Domfnguez, seeing it all again, eyes wide, "on the street I walked, a woman cried, 'Domfnguez, is that youT Another said, 'Domfnguez? No, Quetzalcoatl,* the Great White God come from the East,⁵ do you hear? And suddenly I didn't want to go with six women or eight, no. One, I thought. One! And to this one, who knows what I would say? 'Be mine!' Or 'Marry me!' Carambal This suit is dangerous! But I did not care! I live, I live! Gomez, did it happen this way with you?"

Gomez, still dazed by the events of the eve­ning, shook his head. "No, no talk. It's too much. Later. Villanazul...?"

Villanazul moved shyly forward. Villanazul went shyly out. Villanazul came shyly home. "Picture it," he said, not looking at them, looking at the floor, talking to the floor. "The Green Plaza, a group of elderly businessmen gath­ered under the stars and they are talking, nodding, talking. Now one of them whispers. All turn to

200

stare. They move aside, they make a channel through which a white-hot light burns its way as through ice. At the center of the great light is this person. I take a deep breath. My stomach is jelly. My voice is very small, but it grows louder. And what do I say? I say, 'Friends. Do you know Car-lyle's Sartor Resartus? In that book we find his Philosophy of Suits....'"*

And at last it was time for Martinez to let the suit float him out to haunt the darkness.

Four times he walked around the block. Four times he paused beneath the tenement porches, looking up at the window where the light was lit; a shadow moved, the beautiful girl was there, not there, away and gone, and on the fifth time there she was on the porch above, driven out by the summer heat, taking the cooler air. She glanced down. She made a gesture.

At first he thought she was waving to him. He felt like a white explosion that had riveted her at­tention. But she was not waving. Her hand ges­tured and the next moment a pair of dark-framed glasses sat upon her nose. She gazed at him.

Ah, ah, he thought, so that's it. So! Even the blind may see this suit! He smiled up at her. He did not have to wave. And at last she smiled back. She did not have to wave either. Then, because he did not know what else to do and he could not get rid of this smile that had fastened itself to his cheeks, he hurried, almost ran, around the corner, feeling her stare after him. When he looked back

201 she had taken off her glasses and gazed now with the look of the nearsighted at what, at most, must be a moving blob of light in the great darkness here. Then for good measure* he went around the block again, through a city so suddenly beautiful he wanted to yell, then laugh, then yell again.

Returning, he drifted, oblivious, eyes half closed, and seeing him in the door, the others saw not Martinez but themselves come home. In that moment, they sensed that something had hap­pened to them all.

"You're late!" cried Vamenos, but stopped. The spell could not be broken.

"Somebody tell me," said Martinez. "Who am I?"

He moved in a slow circle through the room.

Yes, he thought, yes, it's the suit, yes, it had to do with the suit and them all together in that store on this fine Saturday night and then here, laughing and feeling more drunk without drinking as Manulo said himself, as the night ran and each slipped on the pants and held, toppling, to the others and, balanced, let the feeling get bigger and warmer and finer as each man departed and the next took his place in the suit until now here stood Martinez all splendid and white as one who gives orders and the world grows quiet and moves aside.

"Martinez, we borrowed three mirrors while you were gone. Look!"

The mirrors, set up as in the store, angled to

202

reflect three Martinezes and the echoes and memories of those who had occupied this suit with him and known the bright world inside this thread and cloth. Now, in the shimmering mirror, Martinez saw the enormity of this thing they were living together and his eyes grew wet. The others blinked. Martinez touched the mirrors. They shifted. He saw a thousand, a million white-ar­mored Martinezes march off into eternity, re­flected, re-reflected, forever, indomitable, and un­ending.

He held the white coat out on the air. In a trance, the others did not at first recognize the dirty hand that reached to take the coat. Then: "Vamenos!" "Pig!"

"You didn't wash!" cried Gomez. "Or even shave, while you waited! Compadres, the bath!" "The bath!" said everyone. "No!" Vamenos flailed. "The night air! I'm

dead!"

They hustled him yelling out and down the

hall.

Now here stood Vamenos, unbelievable in white suit, beard shaved, hair combed, nails

scrubbed.

His friends scowled darkly at him.

For was it not true, thought Martinez, that when Vamenos passed by, avalanches itched on mountaintops? If he walked under windows, peo-

203 pie spat, dumped garbage, or worse. Tonight now, this night, he would stroll beneath ten thousand wide-opened windows, near balconies, past alleys. Suddenly the world absolutely sizzled with flies. And here was Vamenos, a fresh-frosted cake.

"You sure look keen in that suit, Vamenos," said Manulo sadly.

"Thanks," Vamenos twitched, trying to make his skeleton comfortable where all their skeletons had so recently been. In a small voice Vamenos said, "Can I go now?"

"Villanazul!" said Gomez. "Copy down these rules."

Villanazul licked his pencil.

"First," said Gomez, "don't fall down in that suit, Vamenos!"

"I won't."

"Don't lean against buildings in that suit."

"No buildings."

"Don't walk under trees with birds in them in that suit. Don't smoke. Don't drink—"

"Please," said Vamenos, "can I sit down in this suit?"

"When in doubt, take the pants off, fold them over a chair."

"Wish me luck," said Vamenos.

"Go with God, Vamenos."

He went out. He shut the door.

There was a ripping sound.

"Vamenos!" cried Martinez.

He whipped the door open.

204

Vamenos stood with two halves of a handker­chief torn in his hands, laughing.

"Rrrip!* Look at your faces! Rrrip!" He tore the cloth again. "Oh, oh, your faces, your faces! Ha!"

Roaring, Vamenos slammed the door, leaving them stunned and alone.

Gomez put both hands on top of his head and turned away. "Stone me. Kill me. I have sold our souls to a demon!"

Villanazul dug in his pockets, took out a silver coin, and studied it for a long while.

"Here is my last fifty cents. Who else will help me buy back Vamenos' share of the suit?"

"It's no use." Manulo showed them ten cents. "We got only enough to buy the lapels and the buttonholes."

Gomez, at the open window, suddenly leaned out and yelled. "Vamenos! No!"

Below on the street, Vamenos, shocked, blew out a match and threw away an old cigar butt he had found somewhere. He made a strange gesture to all the men in the window above, then waved airily and sauntered on.

Somehow, the five men could not move away from the window. They were crushed together there.

"I bet he eats a hamburger* in that suit," mused Villanazul. "I'm thinking of the mustard."

"Don't!" cried Gomez. "No, no!"

Manulo was suddenly at the door.

"I need a drink, bad."*

"Manulo, there's wine here, that bottle on the floor-"

Manulo went out and shut the door.

A moment later Villanazul stretched with great exaggeration and strolled about the room.

"I think I'll walk down to the plaza, friends."

He was not gone a minute when Dominguez, waving his black book at the others, winked and turned the doorknob.

"Domfnguez," said Gomez.

"Yes?"

"If you see Vamenos, by accident," said Gomez, "warn him away from Mickey Murrillo's Red Rooster Cafe. They got fights not only on TV but out front of the TV* too."

"He wouldn't go into Murrillo's," said Domfn­guez. "That suit means too much to Vamenos. He wouldn't do anything to hurt it."

"He'd shoot his mother first," said Martinez.

"Sure he would."

Martinez and Gomez, alone, listened to Domfn-guez's footsteps hurry away down the stairs. They circled the undressed window dummy.

For a long while, biting his lips, Gomez stood at the window, looking out. He touched his shirt pocket twice, pulled his hand away, and then at last pulled something from the pocket. Without looking at it, he handed it to Martinez.

"Martinez, take this."

"What is it?"

Martinez looked at the piece of folded pink paper with print on it, with names and numbers. His eyes widened.

"A ticket on the bus to El Paso three weeks from now!"

Gomes nodded. He couldn't look at Martinez. He stared out into the summer night.

"Turn it in. Get the money," he said. "Buy us a nice white panama hat and a pale blue tie to go with the white ice cream suit, Martinez. Do that."

"Gomez-"

"Shut up. Boy, is it hot in here! I need air."

"Gomez. I am touched. Gomez—"

But the door stood open. Gomez was gone.

Mickey Murrillo's Red Rooster Cafe and Cocktail Lounge was squashed between two big brick buildings and, being narrow, had to be deep. Outside, serpents of red and sulphur-green neon fizzed and snapped. Inside, dim shapes loomed and swam away to lose themselves in a swarming night sea.

Martinez, on tiptoe, peeked through a flaked place on the red-painted front window.

He felt a presence on his left, heard breathing on his right. He glanced in both directions.

"Manulo! Villanazul!"

"I decided I wasn't thirsty," said Manulo. "So I took a walk."

"I was just on my way to the plaza," said Vil-

lanazul, "and decided to go the long way around."*

As if by agreement, the three men shut up now and turned together to peer on tiptoe through various flaked spots on the window.

A moment later, all three felt a new very warm presence behind them and heard still faster breath­ing.

"Is our white suit in there?" asked Gomez's voice.

"Gomez!" said everybody, surprised. "Hi!"

"Yes!" cried Domfnguez, having just arrived to find his own peephole. "There's the suit! And, praise God, Vamenos is still in it!"

"I can't see!" Gomez squinted, shielding his eyes. "What's he doing?"

Martinez peered. Yes! There, way back in the shadows, was a big chunk of snow and the idiot smile of Vamenos winking above it, wreathed in smoke. "He's smoking!" said Martinez.

"He's drinking!" said Dominguez. "He's eating a taco!"* reported Villanazul.

"A juicy taco," added Manulo.

"No," said Gomez. "No, no, no...."

"Ruby Escuadrillo's with him!"

"Let me see that!" Gomez pushed Martinez aside.

Yes, there was Ruby! Two hundred pounds of glittering sequins and tight black satin on the hoof, her scarlet fingernails clutching Vamenos' shoulder. Her cowlike face, floured with powder, greasy with lipstick, hung over him!

"That hippo!" said Dominguez. "She's crushing the shoulder pads. Look, she's going to sit on his lap!"

"No, no, not with all that powder and lip­stick!" said Gomez. "Manulo, inside! Grab that drink! Villanazul, the cigar, the taco! Dominguez, date Ruby Escuadrillo, get her away. Andale, men!"

The three vanished, leaving Gomez and Martinez to stare, gasping, through the peephole.

"Manulo, he's got the drink, he's drinking it!"

"Ay\ There's Villanazul, he's got the cigar, he's eating the taco!"

"Hey, Dominguez, he's got Ruby! What a brave one!"

A shadow bulked through Murrillo's front door, traveling fast.

"Gomez!" Martinez clutched Gomez's arm. "That was Ruby Escuadrillo's boy friend, Того Ruiz. If he finds her with Vamenos, the ice cream suit will be covered with blood, covered with blood-"

"Don't make me nervous," said Gomez. "Quickly!"

Both ran. Inside they reached Vamenos just as Того Ruiz grabbed about two feet of the lapels of that wonderful ice cream suit.

"Let go of Vamenos!" said Martinez.

"Let go that suit" corrected Gomez.

Того Ruiz, tap-dancing Vamenos, leered at these intruders.

Villanazul stepped up shyly.

Villanazul smiled. "Don't hit him. Hit me."

Того Ruiz hit Villanazul smack on the nose.

Villanazul, holding his nose, tears stinging his eyes, wandered off.

Gomez grabbed one of Того Ruiz's arms, Martinez the other.

"Drop him, let go, cabron, coyote, vacaV*

Того Ruiz twisted the ice cream suit material until all six men screamed in mortal agony. Grunting, sweating, Того Rufz dislodged as many as climbed on. He was winding up to hit Vamenos when Villanazul wandered back, eyes streaming.

"Don't hit him. Hit me!"

As Того Rufz hit Villanazul on the nose, a chair crashed on Toro's head.

"Ail" said Gomez.

Того Rufz swayed, blinking, debating whether to fall. He began to drag Vamenos with him.

"Let go!" cried Gomez. "Let go!"

One by one, with great care, Того Ruiz's ba­nana-like fingers let loose of the suit. A moment later he was ruins at their feet.

"Compadres, this way!"

They ran Vamenos outside and set him down where he freed himself of their hands with injured dignity.

"Okay, okay. My time ain't up. I still got two minutes and, let's see—ten seconds."

210

"What!" said everybody.

"Vamenos," said Gomez, "you let a Guadala­jara cow climb on you, you pick fights, you smoke, you drink, you eat tacos, and now you have the nerve to say your time ain't up?"

"I got two minutes and one second left!"

"Hey, Vamenos, you sure look sharp!" Dis­tantly, a woman's voice called from across the street.

Vamenos smiled and buttoned the coat.

"It's Ramona Alvarez! Ramona, wait!" Vamenos stepped off the curb.

"Vamenos," pleaded Gomez. "What can you do in one minute and"—he checked his watch— "forty seconds!"

"Watch! Hey, Ramona!"

Vamenos loped.

"Vamenos, look out!"

Vamenos, surprised, whirled, saw a car, heard the shriek of brakes.

"No," said all five men on the sidewalk.

Martinez heard the impact and flinched. His head moved up. It looks like white laundry, he thought, flying through the air. His head came down.

Now he heard himself and each of the men make a different sound. Some swallowed too much air. Some let it out. Some choked. Some groaned. Some cried aloud for justice. Some cov­ered their faces. Martinez felt his own fist pounding his heart in agony. He could not move his feet.

"I don't want to live," said Gomez quietly. "Kill me, someone."

Then, shuffling, Martinez looked down and told his feet to walk, stagger, follow one after the other. He collided with other men. Now they were trying to run. They ran at last and somehow crossed a street like a deep river through which they could only wade, to look down at Vamenos.

"Vamenos!" said Martinez. "You're alive!"

Strewn on his back, mouth open, eyes squeezed tight, tight, Vamenos motioned his head back and forth, back and forth, moaning.

"Tell me, tell me, oh, tell me, tell me."

"Tell you what, Vamenos?"

Vamenos clenched his fists, ground his teeth.

"The suit, what have I done to the suit, the suit, the suit!"

The men crouched lower.

"Vamenos, it's ... why, it's okayl"

"You lie!" said Vamenos. "It's torn, it must be, it must be, it's torn, all around, underneath?"

"No." Martinez knelt and touched here and there. "Vamenos, all around, underneath even, it's okay!"

Vamenos opened his eyes to let the tears run free at last.

"A miracle," he sobbed. "Praise the saints!" He quieted at last. "The car?"

"Hit and run." Gomez suddenly remembered and glared at the empty street. "It's good he didn't stop. We'd have—"

Everyone listened.

Distantly a siren wailed.

"Someone phoned for an ambulance."

"Quick!" said Vamenos, eyes rolling. "Set me up! Take off our coat!"

"Vamenos-"

"Shut up, idiots!" cried Vamenos. "The coat, that's it! Now, the pants, the pants, quick, quick, pednesl* Those doctors! You seen movies? They rip the pants with razors to get them off! They don't carel They're maniacs! Ah, God, quick, quick!"

The siren screamed.

The men, panicking, all handled Vamenos at once.

"Right leg, easy, hurry, cows! Good! Left leg, now, left, you hear, there, easy, easyl Ow, God! Quick! Martinez, your pants, take them off!"

"What?" Martinez froze.

The siren shrieked.

"Fool!" wailed Vamenos. "All is lost! Your pants! Give me!"

Martinez jerked at his belt buckle.

"Close in, make a circle!"

Dark pants, light pants flourished on the air.

"Quick, here come the maniacs with the ra­zors! Right leg on, left leg, thereV

"The zipper, cows, zip my zipper!" babbled Vamenos.

The siren died.

"Madre mia, yes, just in time! They arrive." Vamenos lay back down and shut his eyes. "Gra-cias."*

Martinez turned, nonchalantly buckling on the white pants as the interns brushed past.

"Broken leg," said one intern as they moved Vamenos onto a stretcher.

"Compadres," said Vamenos, "don't be mad with me."

Gomez snorted. "Who's mad?"

In the ambulance, head tilted back, looking out at them upside down, Vamenos faltered.

"Compadres, when ... when I come from the hospital ... am I still in the bunch? You won't kick me out? Look, I'll give up smoking, keep away from Murrillo's, swear off women—"

"Vamenos," said Martinez gently, "don't pro­mise nothing."*

Vamenos, upside down, eyes brimming wet, saw Martinez there, all white now against the stars.

"Oh, Martinez, you sure look great in that suit. Compadres, don't he look beautiful?"

Villanazul climbed in beside Vamenos. The door slammed. The four remaining men watched the ambulance drive away.

Then, surrounded by his friends, inside the white suit, Martinez was carefully escorted back to the curb.

In the tenement, Martinez got out the cleaning fluid and the others stood around, telling him how to clean the suit and, later, how not to have the iron too hot and how to work the lapels and the crease and all. When the suit was cleaned and pressed so it looked like a fresh gardenia just opened, they fitted it to the dummy.

"Two o'clock," murmured Villanazul. "I hope Vamenos sleeps well. When I left him at the hos­pital, he looked good."

Manulo cleared his throat. "Nobody else is go­ing out with that suit tonight, huh?" The others glared at him. Manulo flushed. "I mean ... it's late. We're tired. Maybe no one will use the suit for forty-eight hours, huh? Give it a rest. Sure. Well. Where do we sleep?"

The night being still hot and the room unbear­able, they carried the suit on its dummy out and down the hall. They brought with them also some pillows and blankets. They climbed the stairs to­ward the roof of the tenement. There, thought Martinez, is the cooler wind, and sleep.

On the way, they passed a dozen doors that stood open, people still perspiring and awake, playing cards, drinking pop, fanning themselves with movie magazines.

I wonder, thought Martinez. I wonder if— Yes!

On the fourth floor, a certain door stood open. The beautiful girl looked up as the men passed. She wore glasses and when she saw Martinez she snatched them off and hid them under her book.

The others went on, not knowing they had lost Martinez, who seemed stuck fast in the open door.

For a long moment he could say nothing. Then he said:

"Jose Martinez."

And she said:

"Celia Obregon."

And then both said nothing.

He heard the men moving up on the tenement roof. He moved to follow.

She said quickly, "I saw you tonight!"

He came back.

"The suit," he said.

"The suit," she said, and paused. "But not the suit."

"Eh?" he said.

She lifted the book to show the glasses lying in her lap.

She touched the glasses.

"I do not see well. You would think I would wear my glasses, but no. I walk around for years now, hiding them, seeing nothing. But tonight, even without the glasses, I see. A great whiteness passes below in the dark. So white! And I put on my glasses quickly!"

"The suit, as I said," said Martinez.

"The suit for a little moment, yes, but there is another whiteness above the suit."

216

"Another?"

"Your teeth! Oh, such white teeth, and so many!"

Martinez put his hand over his mouth.

"So happy, Mr. Martfnez," she said. "I have not often seen such a happy face and such a smile."

"Ah," he said, not able to look at her, his face flushing now.

"So, you see," she said quietly, "the suit caught my eye, yes, the whiteness filled the night below. But the teeth were much whiter. Now, I have forgotten the suit."

Martfnez flushed again. She, too, was over­come with what she had said. She put her glasses on her nose, and then took them off, nervously, and hid them again. She looked at her hands and at the door above his head.

"May I—" he said, at last.

"May you-"

"May I call for you," he asked, "when next the suit is mine to wear?"

"Why must you wait for the suit?" she said. "I thought-"

"You do not need the suit," she said. "But-"

"If it were just the suit," she said, "anyone would be fine in it. But no, I watched. I saw many men in that suit, all different, this night. So again I say, you do not need to wait for the suit."

"Madre mia, madre miaV he cried happily.

And then, quieter, "I will need the suit for a little while. A month, six months, a year. I am uncer­tain. I am fearful of many things. I am young."

"That is as it should be," she said.

"Good night, Miss—"

"Celia Obregon."

"Celia Obregon," he said, and was gone from the door.

The others were waiting on the roof of the tenement. Coming up through the trapdoor, Martinez saw they had placed the dummy and the suit in the center of the roof and put their blan­kets and pillows in a circle around it. Now they were lying down. Now a cooler night wind was blowing here, up in the sky.

Martinez stood alone by the white suit, smoothing the lapels, talking half to himself.

"Ay, caramba, what a night! Seems ten years since seven o'clock, when it all started and I had no friends. Two in the morning, I got all kinds of friends...." He paused and thought, Celia Obregon, Celia Obregon. "...all kinds of friends," he went on. "I got a room, I got clothes. You tell me. You know what?" He looked around at the men lying on the rooftop, surrounding the dummy and him­self. "It's funny. When I wear this suit, I know I will win at pool, like Gomez. A woman will look at me like Dominguez. I will be able to sing like Manulo, sweetly. I will talk fine politics like Vil-lanazul. I'm strong as Vamenos. So? So, tonight, I am more than Martinez. I am Gomez, Manulo,

Dominguez, Villanazul, Vamenos. I am everyone. Ay ... ay...." He stood a moment longer by this suit which could save all the ways they sat or stood or walked. This suit which could move fast and nervous like Gomez or slow and thoughtfully like Villanazul or drift like Dominguez, who never touched ground, who always found a wind to take him somewhere. This suit which belonged to them but which also owned them all. This suit that was—what? A parade.

"Martinez," said Gomez. "You going to sleep?"

"Sure. I'm just thinking."

"What?"

"If we ever get rich," said Martinez softly, "it'll be kind of sad. Then we'll all have suits. And there won't be no more nights like tonight. It'll break up the old gang. It'll never be the same af­ter that."

The men lay thinking of what had just been said.

Gomez nodded gently.

"Yeah ... it'll never be the same ... after that."

Martinez lay down on his blanket. In darkness, with the others, he faced the middle of the roof and the dummy, which was the center of their lives.

And their eyes were bright, shining, and good to see in the dark as the neon lights from nearby buildings flicked on, flicked off,* flicked on, flicked off, revealing and then vanishing, revealing and then vanishing, their wonderful white vanilla ice cream summer suit.

***

Задание:

1. Выполнить литературный письменный перевод рассказа Эдгара По « The Black Cat»
2. Выписать в словарь и выучить выделенную курсивом лексику

Методические рекомендации:

Стиль Эдгара По очень специфичен. Для понимания некоторых частей текста следует перечитывать его несколько раз. Текст изобилует архаизмами и вышедшими из употребления современного английского языка словами и устойчивыми выражениями.

Метафоры также требуют тщательной анализа и адекватного перевода на русский язык. Тем не менее, авторские метафор лучше подвергнуть дословному пв целях сохранения индивидуального стиля автора.

Другой отличительной чертой Эдгара По является наличие большого количества предложений с инверсией. При переводе предложений с инверсией следует вводить дополнительные лексико-фразеологические единицы, междометия, знаки восклицания.

The Black Cat

For the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I be to expect it, in a case where my very senses reject their own evidence. Yet, mad am I not--and very surely do I not dream. But to-morrow I die, and to-day I would unburden my soul. My immediate purpose is to place before the world, plainly, succinctly, and without comment, a series of mere household events . In their consequences, these events have terrified--have tortured--have destroyed me. Yet I will not attempt to expound them. To me, they have presented little but horror--to many they will seem less terrible than baroques . Hereafter, perhaps, some intellect may be found which will reduce my phantasm to the commonplace--some intellect more calm, more logical, and far less excitable than my own, which will perceive, in the circumstances I detail with awe, nothing more than an ordinary succession of very natural causes and effects.

From my infancy I was noted for the docility and humanity of my disposition. My tenderness of heart was even so conspicuous as to make me the jest of my companions . I was especially fond of animals, and was indulged by my parents with a great variety of pets. With these I spent most of my time, and never was so happy as when feeding and caressing them. This peculiarity of character grew with my growth, and, in my manhood, I derived from it one of my principal sources of pleasure. To those who have cherished an affection for a faithful and sagacious dog, I need hardly be at the trouble of explaining the nature of the intensity of the gratification thus derivable. There is something in the unselfish and self-sacrificing love of a brute, which goes directly to the heart of him who has had frequent occasion to test the paltry friendship and gossamer fidelity of mere Man.

I married early, and was happy to find in my wife a disposition not uncongenial with my own. Observing my partiality for domestic pets, she lost no opportunity of procuring those of the most agreeable kind. We had birds, gold-fish, a fine dog, rabbits, a small monkey, and a cat.

This latter was a remarkably large and beautiful animal, entirely black, and sagacious to an astonishing degree. In speaking of his intelligence, my wife, who at heart was not a little tinctured with superstition, made frequent allusion to the ancient popular notion , which regarded all black cats as witches in disguise. Not that she was ever serious upon this point--and I mention the matter at all for no better reason than that it happens, just now, to be remembered.

Pluto--this was the cat's name--was my favourite pet and playmate. I alone fed him, and he attended me wherever I went about the house. It was even with difficulty that I could prevent him from following me through the streets.

Our friendship lasted, in this manner, for several years, during which my general temperament and character--through the instrumentality of the fiend Intemperance --had (I blush to confess it) experienced a radical alteration for the worse. I grew, day by day, more moody, more irritable, more regardless of the feelings of others. I suffered myself to use intemperate language to my wife. At length, I even offered her personal violence. My pets, of course, were made to feel the change in my disposition. I not only neglected, but ill-used them. For Pluto, however, I still retained sufficient regard to restrain me from maltreating him, as I made no scruple of maltreating the rabbits, the monkey, or even the dog, when by accident, or through affection, they came in my way. But my disease grew upon me--for what disease is like alcohol?--and at length even Pluto, who was now becoming old, and consequently somewhat peevish --even Pluto began to experience the effects of my ill-temper.

One night, returning home, much intoxicated, from one of my haunts about town, I fancied that the cat avoided my presence. I seized him; when, in his fright at my violence, he inflicted a slight wound upon my hand with his teeth. The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at once, to take its flight from my body; and a more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrilled every fibre of my frame. I took from my waistcoat pocket a pen-knife, opened it, grasped the poor beast by the throat, and deliberately cut one of its eyes from the socke t! I blush, I burn, I shudder, while I pen the damnable atrocity.

When reason returned with the morning--when I had slept off the fumes of the night's debauch--I experienced a sentiment half of horror, half of remorse, for the crime of which I had been guilty; but it was, at best, a feeble and equivocal feeling, and the soul remained untouched. I again plunged into excess, and soon drowned in wine all memory of the deed.

In the meantime the cat slowly recovered. The socket of the lost eye presented, it is true, a frightful appearance, but he no longer appeared to suffer any pain. He went about the house as usual, but, as might be expected, fled in extreme terror at my approach. I had so much of my old heart left, as to be at first grieved by this evident dislike on the part of a creature which had once so loved me. But this feeling soon gave place to irritation. And then came, as if to my final and irrevocable overthrow, the spirit of PERVERSENESS. Of this spirit philosophy takes no account. Yet I am not more sure that my soul lives, than I am that perverseness is one of the primitive impulses of the human heart--one of the indivisible primary faculties, or sentiments, which give direction to the character of man. Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or a silly action, for no other reason than because he knows he should not? Have we not a perpetual inclination, in the teeth of our best judgment, to violate that which is Law, merely because we understand it to be such? This spirit of perverseness, I say, came to my final overthrow . It was this unfathomable longing of the soul to vex itself --to offer violence to its own nature--to do wrong for the wrong's sake only--that urged me to continue and finally to consummate the injury I had inflicted upon the unoffending brute . One morning, in cool blood, I slipped a noose about its neck and hung it to the limb of a tree--hung it with the tears streaming from my eyes, and with the bitterest remorse at my heart--hung it because I knew that it had loved me, and because I felt it had given me no reason of offence--hung it because I knew that in so doing I was committing a sin--a deadly sin that would so jeopardize my immortal soul as to place it--if such a thing were possible--even beyond the reach of the infinite mercy of the Most Merciful and Most Terrible God.

On the night of the day on which this cruel deed was done, I was aroused from sleep by the cry of 'Fire!' The curtains of my bed were in flames. The whole house was blazing. It was with great difficulty that my wife, a servant, and myself, made our escape from the conflagration. The destruction was complete. My entire worldly wealth was swallowed up, and I resigned myself thenceforward to despair.

I am above the weakness of seeking to establish a sequence of cause and effect between the disaster and the atrocity . But I am detailing a chain of facts, and wish not to leave even a possible link imperfect. On the day succeeding the fire, I visited the ruins. The walls, with one exception, had fallen in. This exception was found in a compartment wall, not very thick, which stood about the middle of the house, and against which had rested the head of my bed. The plastering had here, in great measure, resisted the action of the fire--a fact which I attributed to its having been recently spread. About this wall a dense crowd were collected, and many persons seemed to be examining a particular portion of it with very minute and eager attention. The words 'strange!' 'singular!' and other similar expressions, excited my curiosity. I approached and saw, as if graven in bas-relief upon the white surface, the figure of a gigantic cat. The impression was given with an accuracy truly marvellous. There was a rope about the animal's neck.

When I first beheld this apparition-- for I could scarcely regard it as less--my wonder and my terror were extreme. But at length reflection came to my aid. The cat, I remembered, had been hung in a garden adjacent to the house. Upon the alarm of fire, this garden had been immediately filled by the crowd--by some one of whom the animal must have been cut from the tree and thrown, through an open window, into my chamber. This had probably been done with the view of arousing me from sleep. The falling of other walls had compressed the victim of my cruelty into the substance of the freshly-spread plaster; the lime of which, with the flames and the ammonia from the carcass, had then accomplished the portraiture as I saw it.

Although I thus readily accounted to my reason, if not altogether to my conscience, for the startling fact just detailed, it did not the less fail to make a deep impression upon my fancy. For months I could not rid myself of the phantasm of the cat; and, during this period, there came back into my spirit a half-sentiment that seemed, but was not, remorse. I went so far as to regret the loss of the animal, and to look about me, among the vile haunts which I now habitually frequented, for another pet of the same species, and of somewhat similar appearance, with which to supply its place.

One night as I sat, half-stupefied , in a den of more than infamy , my attention was suddenly drawn to some black object, reposing upon the head of one of the immense hogsheads of gin , or of rum, which constituted the chief furniture of the apartment. I had been looking steadily at the top of this hogshead for some minutes, and what now caused me surprise was the fact that I had not sooner perceived the object thereupon. I approached it, and touched it with my hand. It was a black cat--a very large one-- fully as large as Pluto, and closely resembling him in every respect but one. Pluto had not a white hair upon any portion of his body; but this cat had a large, although indefinite, splotch of white, covering nearly the whole region of the breast.

Upon my touching him, he immediately arose, purred loudly, rubbed against my hand, and appeared delighted with my notice. This, then, was the very creature of which I was in search. I at once offered to purchase it of the landlord; but this person made no claim to it--knew nothing of it--had never seen it before.

I continued my caresses, and when I prepared to go home, the animal evinced a disposition to accompany me. I permitted it to do so; occasionally stooping and patting it as I proceeded. When it reached the house it domesticated itself at once , and became immediately a great favourite with my wife.

For my own part, I soon found a dislike to it arising within me. This was just the reverse of what I had anticipated; but--I know not how or why it was--its evident fondness for myself rather disgusted and annoyed me. By slow degrees, these feelings of disgust and annoyance rose into the bitterness of hatred. I avoided the creature; a certain sense of shame, and the remembrance of my former deed of cruelty, preventing me from physically abusing it. I did not, for some weeks, strike, or otherwise violently ill- use it; but gradually--very gradually--I came to look upon it with unutterable loathing , and to flee silently from its odious presence, as from the breath of a pestilence.

What added, no doubt, to my hatred of the beast, was the discovery, on the morning after I brought it home, that, like Pluto, it also had been deprived of one of its eyes. This circumstance, however, only endeared it to my wife , who, as I have already said, possessed, in a high degree, that humanity of feeling which had once been my distinguishing trait, and the source of many of my simplest and purest pleasures.

With my aversion to this cat, however, its partiality for myself seemed to increase. It followed my footsteps with a pertinacity which it would be difficult to make the reader comprehend. Whenever I sat, it would crouch beneath my chair, or spring upon my knees, covering me with its loathsome caresses. If I arose to walk, it would get between my feet, and thus nearly throw me down, or, fastening its long and sharp claws in my dress, clamber, in this manner, to my breast. At such times, although I longed to destroy it with a blow, I was yet withheld from so doing, partly by a memory of my former crime, but chiefly--let me confess it at once--by absolute dread of the beast.

This dread was not exactly a dread of physical evil--and yet I should be at a loss how otherwise to define it. I am almost ashamed to own--yes, even in this felon's cell, I am almost ashamed to own--that the terror and horror with which the animal inspired me, had been heightened by one of the merest chimeras it would be possible to conceive. My wife had called my attention, more than once, to the character of the mark of white hair, of which I have spoken, and which constituted the sole visible difference between the strange beast and the one I had destroyed. The reader will remember that this mark, although large, had been originally very indefinite; but, by slow degrees--degrees nearly imperceptible, and which for a long time my reason struggled to reject as fanciful--it had, at length, resumed a rigorous distinctness of outline. It was now the representation of an object that I shudder to name--and for this, above all, I loathed, and dreaded, and would have rid myself of the monster had I dared--it was now, I say, the image of a hideous--of a ghastly thing--of the GALLOWS!--oh, mournful and terrible engine of horror and of crime--of agony and death!

And now was I indeed wretched beyond the wretchedness of mere humanity. And a brute beast--whose fellow I had contemptuously destroyed--a brute beast to work out for me--for me, a man, fashioned in the image of the High God--so much of insufferable woe! Alas! neither by day nor by night knew I the blessing of rest any more! During the former the creature left me no moment alone; and, in the latter, I started, hourly, from dreams of unutterable fear, to find the hot breath of the thing upon my face, and its vast weight--an incarnate nightmare that I had no power to shake off--incumbent eternally upon my heart!

Beneath the pressure of torments such as these, the feeble remnant of the good within me succumbed. Evil thoughts became my sole intimates--the darkest and most evil of thoughts. The moodiness of my usual temper increased to hatred of all things and of all mankind; while, from the sudden, frequent, and ungovernable outbursts of a fury to which I now blindly abandoned myself, my uncomplaining wife, alas! was the most usual and the most patient of sufferers.

One day she accompanied me, upon some household errand, into the cellar of the old building which our poverty compelled us to inhabit. The cat followed me down the steep stairs, and, nearly throwing me headlong, exasperated me to madness. Uplifting an axe, and forgetting, in my wrath, the childish dread which had hitherto stayed my hand, I aimed a blow at the animal which, of course, would have proved instantly fatal had it descended as I wished. But this blow was arrested by the hand of my wife. Goaded, by the interference, into a rage more than demoniacal, I withdrew my arm from her grasp, and buried the axe in her brain. She fell dead upon the spot, without a groan.

This hideous murder accomplished, I set myself forthwith, and with entire deliberation, to the task of concealing the body. I knew that I could not remove it from the house, either by day or by night, without the risk of being observed by the neighbours. Many projects entered my mind. At one period I thought of cutting the corpse into minute fragments and destroying them by fire. At another, I resolved to dig a grave for it in the floor of the cellar. Again, I deliberated about casting it into the well in the yard--about packing it in a box, as if merchandise, with the usual arrangements, and so getting a porter to take it from the house. Finally I hit upon what I considered a far better expedient than either of these. I determined to wall it up in the cellar--as the monks of the Middle Ages are recorded to have walled up their victims.

For a purpose such as this the cellar was well adapted. Its walls were loosely constructed, and had lately been plastered throughout with a rough plaster, which the dampness of the atmosphere had prevented from hardening. Moreover, in one of the walls was a projection, caused by a false chimney, or fire-place, that had been filled up and made to resemble the rest of the cellar. I made no doubt that I could readily displace the bricks at this point, insert the corpse, and wall the whole up as before, so that no eye could detect anything suspicious.

And in this calculation I was not deceived. By means of a crowbar I easily dislodged the bricks, and having carefully deposited the body against the inner wall, I propped it in that position, while, with little trouble, I relaid the whole structure as it originally stood. Having procured mortar, sand, and hair, with every possible precaution, I prepared a plaster which could not be distinguished from the old, and with this I very carefully went over the new brickwork. When I had finished, I felt satisfied that all was right. The wall did not present the slightest appearance of having been disturbed. The rubbish on the floor was picked up with the minutest care. I looked around triumphantly, and said to myself, 'Here at least, then, my labour has not been in vain.'

My next step was to look for the beast which had been the cause of so much wretchedness; for I had, at length, firmly resolved to put it to death. Had I been able to meet with it at the moment, there could have been no doubt of its fate; but it appeared that the crafty animal had been alarmed at the violence of my previous anger, and forbore to present itself in my present mood. It is impossible to describe, or to imagine, the deep, the blissful sense of relief which the absence of the detested creature occasioned in my bosom. It did not make its appearance during the night--and thus for one night at least, since its introduction into the house, I soundly and tranquilly slept; aye, slept even with the burden of murder upon my soul!

The second and the third day passed, and still my tormentor came not. Once again I breathed as a free man. The monster, in terror, had fled the premises for ever! I should behold it no more! My happiness was supreme! The guilt of my dark deed disturbed me but little. Some few inquiries had been made, but these had been readily answered. Even a search had been instituted--but of course nothing was to be discovered. I looked upon my future felicity as secured.

Upon the fourth day of the assassination, a party of the police came, very unexpectedly, into the house, and proceeded again to make rigorous investigation of the premises. Secure, however, in the inscrutability of my place of concealment, I felt no embarrassment whatever. The officers bade me accompany them in their search. They left no nook or corner unexplored. At length, for the third or fourth time, they descended into the cellar. I quivered not in a muscle. My heart beat calmly as that of one who slumbers in innocence. I walked the cellar from end to end. I folded my arms upon my bosom, and roamed easily to and fro.

The police were thoroughly satisfied, and prepared to depart. The glee at my heart was too strong to be restrained. I burned to say if but one word, by way of triumph, and to render doubly sure their assurance of my guiltlessness.

'Gentlemen,' I said at last, as the party ascended the steps, 'I delight to have allayed your suspicions. I wish you all health, and a little more courtesy. By-the-by, gentlemen, this--this is a very well-constructed house.' (In the rabid desire to say something easily, I scarcely knew what I uttered at all.) 'I may say an excellently well-constructed house. These walls--are you going, gentlemen?--these walls are solidly put together'; and here, through the mere frenzy of bravado, I rapped heavily, with a cane which I held in my hand, upon that very portion of the brickwork behind which stood the corpse of the wife of my bosom.

But may God shield and deliver me from the fangs on the Arch- Fiend! No sooner had the reverberation of my blows sunk into silence, than I was answered by a voice from within the tomb!--by a cry, at first muffled and broken, like the sobbing of a child, and then quickly swelling into one long, loud, and continuous scream, half of horror and half of triumph, such as might have arisen only out of hell, conjointly from the throats of the damned in their agony and of the demons that exult in the damnation.

Of my own thoughts it is folly to speak. Swooning, I staggered to the opposite wall. For one instant the party upon the stairs remained motionless, through extremity of terror and of awe. In the next, a dozen stout arms were toiling at the wall. It fell bodily. The corpse, already greatly decayed and clotted with gore, stood erect before the eyes of the spectators. Upon its head, with red extended mouth and solitary eye of fire, sat the hideous beast whose craft had seduced me into murder, and whose informing voice had consigned me to the hangman. I had walled the monster up within the tomb!

***

Задание :

4. Полностью прочитать сказку Л. Кэрролла «Алиса в стране чудес»

5. Выполнить перевод отрывков, выделенных курсивом.

6. Перевести имена собственные стараясь соблюсти два условия: во-первых, сохранить специфику английской сказки и стиля автора, во-вторых, соответствовать нормам русского языка и знаниям русскоязычных реципиентов.

Методические указания :

Самая сложная задача, с которой сталкивается переводчик в самом начале сказок – это и имена и названия. Казалось бы, задача переводчика предельно проста, Alice – Алиса, the Hatter – Шляпник, the Bat – летучая мышь, the Red Queen – красная королева. На самом деле все не так просто. The Red queen – это шахматная фигура. А летучая мышь появляется в той фразе, которую твердит сонная Алиса do cats eat bats? Порой Алиса путается и у нее получается Do bats eat cats? Однако для того, чтобы иметь возможность поменять местами субъект и объект, необходимо соблюсти условие – нужно, чтобы два эти существительных рифмовались и чтобы от перестановки их местами возникнул юмористический эффект. В переводе следует отойти от буквального следования оригиналу. Наибольшую трудность представляет имя Дакворта. Переводить буквально его невозможно потому, что русское слово утка женского рода. Что заранее отрицает всякую связь с Робинсоном Даквортом. Самым тяжелым для перевода именем стал Mock Turtle. Как его только не переводили на русский язык – Фальшивая Черепаха, Черепаха с телячьей головой, Фальшивая Черепаха их телячьей головки, Лже-черепаха, и просто Мок-Тартль. Дело в том, что Mock turtle soup имитирует зеленый суп из черепахи. Обычно его готовят из телятины. Вот почему Тенниел нарисовал Mock Turtle с телячьей головой, копытами на задних ногах и хвостом. В России ничего подобного нет. Более того, черепаха в русском языке женского рода, а Mock Turtle – это мужчина. Да и вообще, черепаха в сознании русскоязычного реципиента ассоциируется с песком, жарой. А Mock Turtle - животное морское (школа на дне моря). И наконец, есть что—то неприятное в самих словах фальшивая, лже. Ведь эмоциональная окраска слова mock – теплая, насмешливая, а не отталкивающая. При переводе данного имени на русский язык следует соблюсти четыре условия:

1. это животное должно быть мужчиной

2. с его именем должны быть связаны морские ассоциации

3. оно должно означать какую-то подделку

4. оно должно опираться на понятие, хорошо известное русскому читателю.

Больше всего в сказках Кэрролл имен, связанных с английским фольклором, зачастую не понятных русскоязычному реципиенту. К примеру, безумцы – типичная тема английского фольклора. В русском же фольклоре таких героев нет, следовательно, нет и связанных с ними примет, нет никакого ассоциативного поля и понятийных параллелей. В то же время простой перевод имени ничего не даст. В английском языке есть пословица as mad as a hatter. Пословица эта довольно современная, она зафиксирована лишь в середине 19 столетия. Происхождение этой пословицы не совсем ясно. Возможно, что она отражает вполне реальное положение вещей. Дело в том, что в 19 веке при обработке фетра уптреблялись составы, в которые входила ртуть. Ртутное отравление вело к помешательству. У русского читателя Шляпник (hatter) не вызывает никаких ассоциаций. Ближе всего по ассоциативному полю в русском языке –это дураки. Вторым компонентом в сказках Кэрролла является игра слов. Словесная игра практически не может быть переведена адекватно. Четвертая глава «страны чудес» “The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill” также сложна для перевода. В тексте фигурирует некий Bill, который оказывается ящерицей. Вместе с тем само наличие артикля в заглавии позволяет предположить и здесь словесную игру. Bill – по-английски – это «счет», «билль». Таким образом, a little Bill может читаться и как «крошка Билл» и как «маленький счет».

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Lewis Carroll

CHAPTER I

Down the Rabbit-Hole

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, `and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice `without pictures or conversation?'

So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, `Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!' (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat -pocket , and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.

In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.

The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled `ORANGE MARMALADE', but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it.

`Well!' thought Alice to herself, `after such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they'll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn't say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!' (Which was very likely true.)

Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end! `I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?' she said aloud. `I must be getting somewhere near the centre of the earth. Let me see: that would be four thousand miles down, I think--' (for, you see, Alice had learnt several things of this sort in her lessons in the schoolroom, and though this was not a very good opportunity for showing off her knowledge, as there was no one to listen to her, still it was good practice to say it over) `--yes, that's about the right distance--but then I wonder what Latitude or Longitude I've got to?' (Alice had no idea what Latitude was, or Longitude either, but thought they were nice grand words to say.)

Presently she began again. `I wonder if I shall fall right through the earth! How funny it'll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward! The Antipathies, I think--' (she was rather glad there was no one listening, this time, as it didn't sound at all the right word) `--but I shall have to ask them what the name of the country is, you know. Please, Ma'am, is this New Zealand or Australia?' (and she tried to curtsey as she spoke--fancy curtseying as you're falling through the air! Do you think you could manage it?) `And what an ignorant little girl she'll think me for asking! No, it'll never do to ask: perhaps I shall see it written up somewhere.'

Down, down, down. There was nothing else to do, so Alice soon began talking again. `Dinah'll miss me very much to-night, I should think!' (Dinah was the cat.) `I hope they'll remember her saucer of milk at tea-time. Dinah my dear! I wish you were down here with me! There are no mice in the air, I'm afraid, but you might catch a bat, and that's very like a mouse, you know. But do cats eat bats, I wonder?' And here Alice began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, `Do cats eat bats? Do cats eat bats?' and sometimes, `Do bats eat cats?' for, you see, as she couldn't answer either question, it didn't much matter which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Dinah, and saying to her very earnestly, `Now, Dinah, tell me the truth: did you ever eat a bat?' when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was ov er.

Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind, and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner, `Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting!' She was close behind it when she turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.

There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again.

Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it except a tiny golden key, and Alice's first thought was that it might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but, alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, but at any rate it would not open any of them. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she tried the little golden key in the lock, and to her great delight it fitted!

Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head though the doorway; `and even if my head would go through,' thought poor Alice, `it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if I only know how to begin.' For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.

There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it, (`which certainly was not here before,' said Alice,) and round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words `DRINK ME' beautifully printed on it in large letters.

It was all very well to say `Drink me,' but the wise little Alice was not going to do that in a hurry. `No, I'll look first,' she said, `and see whether it's marked "poison" or not'; for she had read several nice little histories about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your finger very deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked `poison,' it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.

However, this bottle was not marked `poison,' so Alice ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished it off.

`What a curious feeling!' said Alice; `I must be shutting up like a telescope.'

And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further: she felt a little nervous about this; `for it might end, you know,' said Alice to herself, `in my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be like then?' And she tried to fancy what the flame of a candle is like after the candle is blown out, for she could not remember ever having seen such a thing.

After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas for poor Alice! when she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the little golden key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor little thing sat down and cried.

`Come, there's no use in crying like that!' said Alice to herself, rather sharply; `I advise you to leave off this minute!' She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. `But it's no use now,' thought poor Alice, `to pretend to be two people! Why, there's hardly enough of me left to make one respectable person!'

Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words `EAT ME' were beautifully marked in currants. `Well, I'll eat it,' said Alice, `and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I'll get into the garden, and I don't care which happens!'

She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, `Which way? Which way?', holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this generally happens when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.

So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.

CHAPTER II

The Pool of Tears

`Curiouser and curiouser!' cried Alice (she was so much surprised, that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good English); `now I'm opening out like the largest telescope that ever was! Good-bye, feet!' (for when she looked down at her feet, they seemed to be almost out of sight, they were getting so far off). `Oh, my poor little feet, I wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears? I'm sure I shan't be able! I shall be a great deal too far off to trouble myself about you: you must manage the best way you can; --but I must be kind to them,' thought Alice, `or perhaps they won't walk the way I want to go! Let me see: I'll give them a new pair of boots every Christmas.'

And she went on planning to herself how she would manage it. `They must go by the carrier,' she thought; `and how funny it'll seem, sending presents to one's own feet! And how odd the directions will look!

Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking!'

Just then her head struck against the roof of the hall: in fact she was now more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door.

Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to look through into the garden with one eye; but to get through was more hopeless than ever: she sat down and began to cry again.

`You ought to be ashamed of yourself,' said Alice, `a great girl like you,' (she might well say this), `to go on crying in this way! Stop this moment, I tell you!' But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all round her, about four inches deep and reaching half down the hall.

After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the White Rabbit returning, splendidly dressed, with a pair of white kid gloves in one hand and a large fan in the other: he came trotting along in a great hurry, muttering to himself as he came, `Oh! the Duchess, the Duchess! Oh! won't she be savage if I've kept her waiting!' Alice felt so desperate that she was ready to ask help of any one; so, when the Rabbit came near her, she began, in a low, timid voice, `If you please, sir--' The Rabbit started violently, dropped the white kid gloves and the fan, and skurried away into the darkness as hard as he could go.

Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was very hot, she kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking: `Dear, dear! How queer everything is to-day! And yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is, Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle!' And she began thinking over all the children she knew that were of the same age as herself, to see if she could have been changed for any of them.

`I'm sure I'm not Ada,' she said, `for her hair goes in such long ringlets, and mine doesn't go in ringlets at all; and I'm sure I can't be Mabel, for I know all sorts of things, and she, oh! she knows such a very little! Besides, she's she, and I'm I, and--oh dear, how puzzling it all is! I'll try if I know all the things I used to know. Let me see: four times five is twelve, and four times six is thirteen, and four times seven is--oh dear! I shall never get to twenty at that rate! However, the Multiplication Table doesn't signify: let's try Geography. London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital of Rome, and Rome--no, that's all wrong, I'm certain! I must have been changed for Mabel! I'll try and say "How doth the little--"' and she crossed her hands on her lap as if she were saying lessons, and began to repeat it, but her voice sounded hoarse and strange, and the words did not come the same as they used to do:--

`I'm sure those are not the right words,' said poor Alice, and her eyes filled with tears again as she went on, `I must be Mabel after all, and I shall have to go and live in that poky little house, and have next to no toys to play with, and oh! ever so many lessons to learn! No, I've made up my mind about it; if I'm Mabel, I'll stay down here! It'll be no use their putting their heads down and saying "Come up again, dear!" I shall only look up and say "Who am I then? Tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I'll come up: if not, I'll stay down here till I'm somebody else"--but, oh dear!' cried Alice, with a sudden burst of tears, `I do wish they would put their heads down! I am so very tired of being all alone here!'

As she said this she looked down at her hands, and was surprised to see that she had put on one of the Rabbit's little white kid gloves while she was talking. `How can I have done that?' she thought. `I must be growing small again.' She got up and went to the table to measure herself by it, and found that, as nearly as she could guess, she was now about two feet high, and was going on shrinking rapidly: she soon found out that the cause of this was the fan she was holding, and she dropped it hastily, just in time to avoid shrinking away altogether.

`That was a narrow escape!' said Alice, a good deal frightened at the sudden change, but very glad to find herself still in existence; `and now for the garden!' and she ran with all speed back to the little door: but, alas! the little door was shut again, and the little golden key was lying on the glass table as before, `and things are worse than ever,' thought the poor child, `for I never was so small as this before, never! And I declare it's too bad, that it is!'

As she said these words her foot slipped, and in another moment, splash! she was up to her chin in salt water. Her first idea was that she had somehow fallen into the sea, `and in that case I can go back by railway,' she said to herself. (Alice had been to the seaside once in her life, and had come to the general conclusion, that wherever you go to on the English coast you find a number of bathing machines in the sea, some children digging in the sand with wooden spades, then a row of lodging houses, and behind them a railway station.) However, she soon made out that she was in the pool of tears which she had wept when she was nine feet high.

`I wish I hadn't cried so much!' said Alice, as she swam about, trying to find her way out. `I shall be punished for it now, I suppose, by being drowned in my own tears! That will be a queer thing, to be sure! However, everything is queer to-day.'

Just then she heard something splashing about in the pool a little way off, and she swam nearer to make out what it was: at first she thought it must be a walrus or hippopotamus, but then she remembered how small she was now, and she soon made out that it was only a mouse that had slipped in like herself.

`Would it be of any use, now,' thought Alice, `to speak to this mouse? Everything is so out-of-the-way down here, that I should think very likely it can talk: at any rate, there's no harm in trying.' So she began: `O Mouse, do you know the way out of this pool? I am very tired of swimming about here, O Mouse!' (Alice thought this must be the right way of speaking to a mouse: she had never done such a thing before, but she remembered having seen in her brother's Latin Grammar, `A mouse--of a mouse--to a mouse--a mouse--O mouse!' The Mouse looked at her rather inquisitively, and seemed to her to wink with one of its little eyes, but it said nothing.

`Perhaps it doesn't understand English,' thought Alice; `I daresay it's a French mouse, come over with William the Conqueror.' (For, with all her knowledge of history, Alice had no very clear notion how long ago anything had happened.) So she began again: `Ou est ma chatte?' which was the first sentence in her French lesson-book. The Mouse gave a sudden leap out of the water, and seemed to quiver all over with fright. `Oh, I beg your pardon!' cried Alice hastily, afraid that she had hurt the poor animal's feelings. `I quite forgot you didn't like cats.'

`Not like cats!' cried the Mouse, in a shrill, passionate voice. `Would you like cats if you were me?'

`Well, perhaps not,' said Alice in a soothing tone: `don't be angry about it. And yet I wish I could show you our cat Dinah: I think you'd take a fancy to cats if you could only see her. She is such a dear quiet thing,' Alice went on, half to herself, as she swam lazily about in the pool, `and she sits purring so nicely by the fire, licking her paws and washing her face--and she is such a nice soft thing to nurse--and she's such a capital one for catching mice--oh, I beg your pardon!' cried Alice again, for this time the Mouse was bristling all over, and she felt certain it must be really offended. `We won't talk about her any more if you'd rather not.'

`We indeed!' cried the Mouse, who was trembling down to the end of his tail. `As if I would talk on such a subject! Our family always hated cats: nasty, low, vulgar things! Don't let me hear the name again!'

`I won't indeed!' said Alice, in a great hurry to change the subject of conversation. `Are you--are you fond--of--of dogs?' The Mouse did not answer, so Alice went on eagerly: `There is such a nice little dog near our house I should like to show you! A little bright-eyed terrier, you know, with oh, such long curly brown hair! And it'll fetch things when you throw them, and it'll sit up and beg for its dinner, and all sorts of things--I can't remember half of them--and it belongs to a farmer, you know, and he says it's so useful, it's worth a hundred pounds! He says it kills all the rats and--oh dear!' cried Alice in a sorrowful tone, `I'm afraid I've offended it again!' For the Mouse was swimming away from her as hard as it could go, and making quite a commotion in the pool as it went.

So she called softly after it, `Mouse dear! Do come back again, and we won't talk about cats or dogs either, if you don't like them!' When the Mouse heard this, it turned round and swam slowly back to her: its face was quite pale (with passion, Alice thought), and it said in a low trembling voice, `Let us get to the shore, and then I'll tell you my history, and you'll understand why it is I hate cats and dogs.'

It was high time to go, for the pool was getting quite crowded with the birds and animals that had fallen into it: there were a Duck and a Dodo, a Lory and an Eaglet, and several other curious creatures. Alice led the way, and the whole party swam to the shore.

CHAPTER III

A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale

They were indeed a queer-looking party that assembled on the bank--the birds with draggled feathers, the animals with their fur clinging close to them, and all dripping wet, cross, and uncomfortable.

The first question of course was, how to get dry again: they had a consultation about this, and after a few minutes it seemed quite natural to Alice to find herself talking familiarly with them, as if she had known them all her life. Indeed, she had quite a long argument with the Lory, who at last turned sulky, and would only say, `I am older than you, and must know better'; and this Alice would not allow without knowing how old it was, and, as the Lory positively refused to tell its age, there was no more to be said.

At last the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of authority among them, called out, `Sit down, all of you, and listen to me! I'll soon make you dry enough!' They all sat down at once, in a large ring, with the Mouse in the middle. Alice kept her eyes anxiously fixed on it, for she felt sure she would catch a bad cold if she did not get dry very soon.

`Ahem!' said the Mouse with an important air, `are you all ready? This is the driest thing I know. Silence all round, if you please! "William the Conqueror, whose cause was favoured by the pope, was soon submitted to by the English, who wanted leaders, and had been of late much accustomed to usurpation and conquest. Edwin and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria--"'

`Ugh!' said the Lory, with a shiver.

`I beg your pardon!' said the Mouse, frowning, but very politely: `Did you speak?'

`Not I!' said the Lory hastily.

`I thought you did,' said the Mouse. `--I proceed. "Edwin and Morcar, the earls of Mercia and Northumbria, declared for him: and even Stigand, the patriotic archbishop of Canterbury, found it advisable--"'

`Found what ?' said the Duck.

`Found it ,' the Mouse replied rather crossly: `of course you know what "it" means.'

`I know what "it" means well enough, when I find a thing,' said the Duck: `it's generally a frog or a worm. The question is, what did the archbishop find?'

The Mouse did not notice this question, but hurriedly went on, `"--found it advisable to go with Edgar Atheling to meet William and offer him the crown. William's conduct at first was moderate. But the insolence of his Normans--" How are you getting on now, my dear?' it continued, turning to Alice as it spoke.

`As wet as ever,' said Alice in a melancholy tone: `it doesn't seem to dry me at all.'

`In that case,' said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its feet, `I move that the meeting adjourn, for the immediate adoption of more energetic remedies--'

`Speak English!' said the Eaglet. `I don't know the meaning of half those long words, and, what's more, I don't believe you do either!' And the Eaglet bent down its head to hide a smile: some of the other birds tittered audibly.

`What I was going to say,' said the Dodo in an offended tone, `was, that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race.'

`What is a Caucus-race?' said Alice; not that she wanted much to know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that somebody ought to speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything.

`Why,' said the Dodo, `the best way to explain it is to do it.' (And, as you might like to try the thing yourself, some winter day, I will tell you how the Dodo managed it.)

First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle, (`the exact shape doesn't matter,' it said,) and then all the party were placed along the course, here and there. There was no `One, two, three, and away,' but they began running when they liked, and left off when they liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race was over. However, when they had been running half an hour or so, and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly called out `The race is over!' and they all crowded round it, panting, and asking, `But who has won?'

This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of thought, and it sat for a long time with one finger pressed upon its forehead (the position in which you usually see Shakespeare, in the pictures of him), while the rest waited in silence. At last the Dodo said, `Everybody has won, and all must have prizes.'

`But who is to give the prizes?' quite a chorus of voices asked.

`Why, she , of course,' said the Dodo, pointing to Alice with one finger; and the whole party at once crowded round her, calling out in a confused way, `Prizes! Prizes!'

Alice had no idea what to do, and in despair she put her hand in her pocket, and pulled out a box of comfits, (luckily the salt water had not got into it), and handed them round as prizes. There was exactly one a-piece all round.

`But she must have a prize herself, you know,' said the Mouse.

`Of course,' the Dodo replied very gravely. `What else have you got in your pocket?' he went on, turning to Alice.

`Only a thimble,' said Alice sadly.

`Hand it over here,' said the Dodo.

Then they all crowded round her once more, while the Dodo solemnly presented the thimble, saying `We beg your acceptance of this elegant thimble'; and, when it had finished this short speech, they all cheered.

Alice thought the whole thing very absurd, but they all looked so grave that she did not dare to laugh; and, as she could not think of anything to say, she simply bowed, and took the thimble, looking as solemn as she could.

The next thing was to eat the comfits: this caused some noise and confusion, as the large birds complained that they could not taste theirs, and the small ones choked and had to be patted on the back. However, it was over at last, and they sat down again in a ring, and begged the Mouse to tell them something more.

`You promised to tell me your history, you know,' said Alice, `and why it is you hate--C and D,' she added in a whisper, half afraid that it would be offended again.

`Mine is a long and a sad tale!' said the Mouse, turning to Alice, and sighing.

`It is a long tail, certainly,' said Alice, looking down with wonder at the Mouse's tail; `but why do you call it sad?' And she kept on puzzling about it while the Mouse was speaking, so that her idea of the tale was something like this:--

`You are not attending!' said the Mouse to Alice severely. `What are you thinking of?'

`I beg your pardon,' said Alice very humbly: `you had got to the fifth bend, I think?'

`I had not !' cried the Mouse, sharply and very angrily.

`A knot!' said Alice, always ready to make herself useful, and looking anxiously about her. `Oh, do let me help to undo it!'

`I shall do nothing of the sort,' said the Mouse, getting up and walking away. `You insult me by talking such nonsense!'

`I didn't mean it!' pleaded poor Alice. `But you're so easily offended, you know!'

The Mouse only growled in reply.

`Please come back and finish your story!' Alice called after it; and the others all joined in chorus, `Yes, please do!' but the Mouse only shook its head impatiently, and walked a little quicker.

`What a pity it wouldn't stay!' sighed the Lory, as soon as it was quite out of sight; and an old Crab took the opportunity of saying to her daughter `Ah, my dear! Let this be a lesson to you never to lose your temper!' `Hold your tongue, Ma!' said the young Crab, a little snappishly. `You're enough to try the patience of an oyster!'

`I wish I had our Dinah here, I know I do!' said Alice aloud, addressing nobody in particular. `She'd soon fetch it back!'

`And who is Dinah, if I might venture to ask the question?' said the Lory.

Alice replied eagerly, for she was always ready to talk about her pet: `Dinah's our cat. And she's such a capital one for catching mice you can't think! And oh, I wish you could see her after the birds! Why, she'll eat a little bird as soon as look at it!'

This speech caused a remarkable sensation among the party. Some of the birds hurried off at once: one old Magpie began wrapping itself up very carefully, remarking, `I really must be getting home; the night-air doesn't suit my throat!' and a Canary called out in a trembling voice to its children, `Come away, my dears! It's high time you were all in bed!' On various pretexts they all moved off, and Alice was soon left alone.

`I wish I hadn't mentioned Dinah!' she said to herself in a melancholy tone. `Nobody seems to like her, down here, and I'm sure she's the best cat in the world! Oh, my dear Dinah! I wonder if I shall ever see you any more!' And here poor Alice began to cry again, for she felt very lonely and low-spirited. In a little while, however, she again heard a little pattering of footsteps in the distance, and she looked up eagerly, half hoping that the Mouse had changed his mind, and was coming back to finish his story.

CHAPTER IV

The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill

It was the White Rabbit, trotting slowly back again, and looking anxiously about as it went, as if it had lost something; and she heard it muttering to itself `The Duchess! The Duchess! Oh my dear paws! Oh my fur and whiskers! She'll get me executed, as sure as ferrets are ferrets! Where can I have dropped them, I wonder?' Alice guessed in a moment that it was looking for the fan and the pair of white kid gloves, and she very good-naturedly began hunting about for them, but they were nowhere to be seen--everything seemed to have changed since her swim in the pool, and the great hall, with the glass table and the little door, had vanished completely.

Very soon the Rabbit noticed Alice, as she went hunting about, and called out to her in an angry tone, `Why, Mary Ann, what are you doing out here? Run home this moment, and fetch me a pair of gloves and a fan! Quick, now!' And Alice was so much frightened that she ran off at once in the direction it pointed to, without trying to explain the mistake it had made.

`He took me for his housemaid,' she said to herself as she ran. `How surprised he'll be when he finds out who I am! But I'd better take him his fan and gloves--that is, if I can find them.' As she said this, she came upon a neat little house, on the door of which was a bright brass plate with the name `W. RABBIT' engraved upon it. She went in without knocking, and hurried upstairs, in great fear lest she should meet the real Mary Ann, and be turned out of the house before she had found the fan and gloves.

`How queer it seems,' Alice said to herself, `to be going messages for a rabbit! I suppose Dinah'll be sending me on messages next!' And she began fancying the sort of thing that would happen: `"Miss Alice! Come here directly, and get ready for your walk!" "Coming in a minute, nurse! But I've got to see that the mouse doesn't get out." Only I don't think,' Alice went on, `that they'd let Dinah stop in the house if it began ordering people about like that!'

By this time she had found her way into a tidy little room with a table in the window, and on it (as she had hoped) a fan and two or three pairs of tiny white kid gloves: she took up the fan and a pair of the gloves, and was just going to leave the room, when her eye fell upon a little bottle that stood near the looking-glass. There was no label this time with the words `DRINK ME,' but nevertheless she uncorked it and put it to her lips. `I know something interesting is sure to happen,' she said to herself, `whenever I eat or drink anything; so I'll just see what this bottle does. I do hope it'll make me grow large again, for really I'm quite tired of being such a tiny little thing!'

It did so indeed, and much sooner than she had expected: before she had drunk half the bottle, she found her head pressing against the ceiling, and had to stoop to save her neck from being broken. She hastily put down the bottle, saying to herself `That's quite enough--I hope I shan't grow any more--As it is, I can't get out at the door--I do wish I hadn't drunk quite so much!'

Alas! it was too late to wish that! She went on growing, and growing, and very soon had to kneel down on the floor: in another minute there was not even room for this, and she tried the effect of lying down with one elbow against the door, and the other arm curled round her head. Still she went on growing, and, as a last resource, she put one arm out of the window, and one foot up the chimney, and said to herself `Now I can do no more, whatever happens. What will become of me?'

Luckily for Alice, the little magic bottle had now had its full effect, and she grew no larger: still it was very uncomfortable, and, as there seemed to be no sort of chance of her ever getting out of the room again, no wonder she felt unhappy.

`It was much pleasanter at home,' thought poor Alice, `when one wasn't always growing larger and smaller, and being ordered about by mice and rabbits. I almost wish I hadn't gone down that rabbit-hole--and yet--and yet--it's rather curious, you know, this sort of life! I do wonder what can have happened to me! When I used to read fairy-tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one! There ought to be a book written about me, that there ought! And when I grow up, I'll write one--but I'm grown up now,' she added in a sorrowful tone; `at least there's no room to grow up any more here .'

`But then,' thought Alice, `shall I never get any older than I am now? That'll be a comfort, one way--never to be an old woman-- but then--always to have lessons to learn! Oh, I shouldn't like that !'

`Oh, you foolish Alice!' she answered herself. `How can you learn lessons in here? Why, there's hardly room for you , and no room at all for any lesson-books!'

And so she went on, taking first one side and then the other, and making quite a conversation of it altogether; but after a few minutes she heard a voice outside, and stopped to listen.

`Mary Ann! Mary Ann!' said the voice. `Fetch me my gloves this moment!' Then came a little pattering of feet on the stairs. Alice knew it was the Rabbit coming to look for her, and she trembled till she shook the house, quite forgetting that she was now about a thousand times as large as the Rabbit, and had no reason to be afraid of it.

Presently the Rabbit came up to the door, and tried to open it; but, as the door opened inwards, and Alice's elbow was pressed hard against it, that attempt proved a failure. Alice heard it say to itself `Then I'll go round and get in at the window.'

`That you won't' thought Alice, and, after waiting till she fancied she heard the Rabbit just under the window, she suddenly spread out her hand, and made a snatch in the air. She did not get hold of anything, but she heard a little shriek and a fall, and a crash of broken glass, from which she concluded that it was just possible it had fallen into a cucumber-frame, or something of the sort.

Next came an angry voice--the Rabbit's--`Pat! Pat! Where are you?' And then a voice she had never heard before, `Sure then I'm here! Digging for apples, yer honour!'

`Digging for apples, indeed!' said the Rabbit angrily. `Here! Come and help me out of this !' (Sounds of more broken glass.)

`Now tell me, Pat, what's that in the window?'

`Sure, it's an arm, yer honour!' (He pronounced it `arrum.')

`An arm, you goose! Who ever saw one that size? Why, it fills the whole window!'

`Sure, it does, yer honour: but it's an arm for all that.'

`Well, it's got no business there, at any rate: go and take it away!'

There was a long silence after this, and Alice could only hear whispers now and then; such as, `Sure, I don't like it, yer honour, at all, at all!' `Do as I tell you, you coward!' and at last she spread out her hand again, and made another snatch in the air. This time there were two little shrieks, and more sounds of broken glass. `What a number of cucumber-frames there must be!' thought Alice. `I wonder what they'll do next! As for pulling me out of the window, I only wish they could ! I'm sure I don't want to stay in here any longer!'

She waited for some time without hearing anything more: at last came a rumbling of little cartwheels, and the sound of a good many voices all talking together: she made out the words: `Where's the other ladder?--Why, I hadn't to bring but one; Bill's got the other--Bill! fetch it here, lad!--Here, put 'em up at this corner--No, tie 'em together first--they don't reach half high enough yet--Oh! they'll do well enough; don't be particular-- Here, Bill! catch hold of this rope--Will the roof bear?--Mind that loose slate--Oh, it's coming down! Heads below!' (a loud crash)--`Now, who did that?--It was Bill, I fancy--Who's to go down the chimney?--Nay, I shan't! You do it!--That I won't, then!--Bill's to go down--Here, Bill! the master says you're to go down the chimney!'

`Oh! So Bill's got to come down the chimney, has he?' said Alice to herself. `Shy, they seem to put everything upon Bill! I wouldn't be in Bill's place for a good deal: this fireplace is narrow, to be sure; but I think I can kick a little!'

She drew her foot as far down the chimney as she could, and waited till she heard a little animal (she couldn't guess of what sort it was) scratching and scrambling about in the chimney close above her: then, saying to herself `This is Bill,' she gave one sharp kick, and waited to see what would happen next.

The first thing she heard was a general chorus of `There goes Bill!' then the Rabbit's voice along--`Catch him, you by the hedge!' then silence, and then another confusion of voices--`Hold up his head--Brandy now--Don't choke him--How was it, old fellow? What happened to you? Tell us all about it!'

Last came a little feeble, squeaking voice, (`That's Bill,' thought Alice,) `Well, I hardly know--No more, thank ye; I'm better now--but I'm a deal too flustered to tell you--all I know is, something comes at me like a Jack-in-the-box, and up I goes like a sky-rocket!'

`So you did, old fellow!' said the others.

`We must burn the house down!' said the Rabbit's voice; and Alice called out as loud as she could, `If you do. I'll set Dinah at you!'

There was a dead silence instantly, and Alice thought to herself, `I wonder what they will do next! If they had any sense, they'd take the roof off.' After a minute or two, they began moving about again, and Alice heard the Rabbit say, `A barrowful will do, to begin with.'

`A barrowful of what ?' thought Alice; but she had not long to doubt, for the next moment a shower of little pebbles came rattling in at the window, and some of them hit her in the face. `I'll put a stop to this,' she said to herself, and shouted out, `You'd better not do that again!' which produced another dead silence.

Alice noticed with some surprise that the pebbles were all turning into little cakes as they lay on the floor, and a bright idea came into her head. `If I eat one of these cakes,' she thought, `it's sure to make some change in my size; and as it can't possibly make me larger, it must make me smaller, I suppose.'

So she swallowed one of the cakes, and was delighted to find that she began shrinking directly. As soon as she was small enough to get through the door, she ran out of the house, and found quite a crowd of little animals and birds waiting outside. The poor little Lizard, Bill, was in the middle, being held up by two guinea-pigs, who were giving it something out of a bottle. They all made a rush at Alice the moment she appeared; but she ran off as hard as she could, and soon found herself safe in a thick wood.

`The first thing I've got to do,' said Alice to herself, as she wandered about in the wood, `is to grow to my right size again; and the second thing is to find my way into that lovely garden. I think that will be the best plan.'

It sounded an excellent plan, no doubt, and very neatly and simply arranged; the only difficulty was, that she had not the smallest idea how to set about it; and while she was peering about anxiously among the trees, a little sharp bark just over her head made her look up in a great hurry.

An enormous puppy was looking down at her with large round eyes, and feebly stretching out one paw, trying to touch her. `Poor little thing!' said Alice, in a coaxing tone, and she tried hard to whistle to it; but she was terribly frightened all the time at the thought that it might be hungry, in which case it would be very likely to eat her up in spite of all her coaxing.

Hardly knowing what she did, she picked up a little bit of stick, and held it out to the puppy; whereupon the puppy jumped into the air off all its feet at once, with a yelp of delight, and rushed at the stick, and made believe to worry it; then Alice dodged behind a great thistle, to keep herself from being run over; and the moment she appeared on the other side, the puppy made another rush at the stick, and tumbled head over heels in its hurry to get hold of it; then Alice, thinking it was very like having a game of play with a cart-horse, and expecting every moment to be trampled under its feet, ran round the thistle again; then the puppy began a series of short charges at the stick, running a very little way forwards each time and a long way back, and barking hoarsely all the while, till at last it sat down a good way off, panting, with its tongue hanging out of its mouth, and its great eyes half shut.

This seemed to Alice a good opportunity for making her escape; so she set off at once, and ran till she was quite tired and out of breath, and till the puppy's bark sounded quite faint in the distance.

`And yet what a dear little puppy it was!' said Alice, as she leant against a buttercup to rest herself, and fanned herself with one of the leaves: `I should have liked teaching it tricks very much, if--if I'd only been the right size to do it! Oh dear! I'd nearly forgotten that I've got to grow up again! Let me see--how is it to be managed? I suppose I ought to eat or drink something or other; but the great question is, what?'

The great question certainly was, what? Alice looked all round her at the flowers and the blades of grass, but she did not see anything that looked like the right thing to eat or drink under the circumstances. There was a large mushroom growing near her, about the same height as herself; and when she had looked under it, and on both sides of it, and behind it, it occurred to her that she might as well look and see what was on the top of it.

She stretched herself up on tiptoe, and peeped over the edge of the mushroom, and her eyes immediately met those of a large caterpillar, that was sitting on the top with its arms folded, quietly smoking a long hookah, and taking not the smallest notice of her or of anything else.

CHAPTER V

Advice from a Caterpillar

The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.

`Who are you ?' said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, `I--I hardly know, sir, just at present-- at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.'

`What do you mean by that?' said the Caterpillar sternly. `Explain yourself!'

`I can't explain myself , I'm afraid, sir' said Alice, `because I'm not myself, you see.'

`I don't see,' said the Caterpillar.

`I'm afraid I can't put it more clearly,' Alice replied very politely, `for I can't understand it myself to begin with; and being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.'

`It isn't,' said the Caterpillar.

`Well, perhaps you haven't found it so yet,' said Alice; `but when you have to turn into a chrysalis--you will some day, you know--and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you'll feel it a little queer, won't you?'

`Not a bit,' said the Caterpillar.

`Well, perhaps your feelings may be different,' said Alice; `all I know is, it would feel very queer to me .'

`You!' said the Caterpillar contemptuously. `Who are you ?'

Which brought them back again to the beginning of the conversation. Alice felt a little irritated at the Caterpillar's making such very short remarks, and she drew herself up and said, very gravely, `I think, you ought to tell me who you are, first.'

`Why?' said the Caterpillar.

Here was another puzzling question; and as Alice could not think of any good reason, and as the Caterpillar seemed to be in a very unpleasant state of mind, she turned away.

`Come back!' the Caterpillar called after her. `I've something important to say!'

This sounded promising, certainly: Alice turned and came back again.

`Keep your temper,' said the Caterpillar.

`Is that all?' said Alice, swallowing down her anger as well as she could.

`No,' said the Caterpillar.

Alice thought she might as well wait, as she had nothing else to do, and perhaps after all it might tell her something worth hearing. For some minutes it puffed away without speaking, but at last it unfolded its arms, took the hookah out of its mouth again, and said, `So you think you're changed, do you?'

`I'm afraid I am, sir,' said Alice; `I can't remember things as I used--and I don't keep the same size for ten minutes together!'

`Can't remember what things?' said the Caterpillar.

`Well, I've tried to say "How Doth the Little Busy Bee ," but it all came different!' Alice replied in a very melancholy voice.

`Repeat, "You are Old , Father William ,"' said the Caterpillar.

Alice folded her hands, and began:--

`That is not said right,' said the Caterpillar.

`Not quite right, I'm afraid,' said Alice, timidly; `some of the words have got altered.'

`It is wrong from beginning to end,' said the Caterpillar decidedly, and there was silence for some minutes.

The Caterpillar was the first to speak.

`What size do you want to be?' it asked.

`Oh, I'm not particular as to size,' Alice hastily replied; `only one doesn't like changing so often, you know.'

`I don't know,' said the Caterpillar.

Alice said nothing: she had never been so much contradicted in her life before, and she felt that she was losing her temper.

`Are you content now?' said the Caterpillar.

`Well, I should like to be a little larger, sir, if you wouldn't mind,' said Alice: `three inches is such a wretched height to be.'

`It is a very good height indeed!' said the Caterpillar angrily, rearing itself upright as it spoke (it was exactly three inches high).

`But I'm not used to it!' pleaded poor Alice in a piteous tone. And she thought of herself, `I wish the creatures wouldn't be so easily offended!'

`You'll get used to it in time,' said the Caterpillar; and it put the hookah into its mouth and began smoking again.

This time Alice waited patiently until it chose to speak again. In a minute or two the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth and yawned once or twice, and shook itself. Then it got down off the mushroom, and crawled away in the grass, merely remarking as it went, `One side will make you grow taller, and the other side will make you grow shorter.'

`One side of what? The other side of what?' thought Alice to herself.

`Of the mushroom,' said the Caterpillar, just as if she had asked it aloud; and in another moment it was out of sight.

Alice remained looking thoughtfully at the mushroom for a minute, trying to make out which were the two sides of it; and as it was perfectly round, she found this a very difficult question. However, at last she stretched her arms round it as far as they would go, and broke off a bit of the edge with each hand.

`And now which is which?' she said to herself, and nibbled a little of the right-hand bit to try the effect: the next moment she felt a violent blow underneath her chin: it had struck her foot!

She was a good deal frightened by this very sudden change, but she felt that there was no time to be lost, as she was shrinking rapidly; so she set to work at once to eat some of the other bit. Her chin was pressed so closely against her foot, that there was hardly room to open her mouth; but she did it at last, and managed to swallow a morsel of the lefthand bit.

`Come, my head's free at last!' said Alice in a tone of delight, which changed into alarm in another moment, when she found that her shoulders were nowhere to be found: all she could see, when she looked down, was an immense length of neck, which seemed to rise like a stalk out of a sea of green leaves that lay far below her.

`What can all that green stuff be?' said Alice. `And where have my shoulders got to? And oh, my poor hands, how is it I can't see you?' She was moving them about as she spoke, but no result seemed to follow, except a little shaking among the distant green leaves.

As there seemed to be no chance of getting her hands up to her head, she tried to get her head down to them, and was delighted to find that her neck would bend about easily in any direction, like a serpent. She had just succeeded in curving it down into a graceful zigzag, and was going to dive in among the leaves, which she found to be nothing but the tops of the trees under which she had been wandering, when a sharp hiss made her draw back in a hurry: a large pigeon had flown into her face, and was beating her violently with its wings.

`Serpent!' screamed the Pigeon.

`I'm not a serpent!' said Alice indignantly. `Let me alone!'

`Serpent, I say again!' repeated the Pigeon, but in a more subdued tone, and added with a kind of sob, `I've tried every way, and nothing seems to suit them!'

`I haven't the least idea what you're talking about,' said Alice.

`I've tried the roots of trees, and I've tried banks, and I've tried hedges,' the Pigeon went on, without attending to her; `but those serpents! There's no pleasing them!'

Alice was more and more puzzled, but she thought there was no use in saying anything more till the Pigeon had finished.

`As if it wasn't trouble enough hatching the eggs,' said the Pigeon; `but I must be on the look-out for serpents night and day! Why, I haven't had a wink of sleep these three weeks!'

`I'm very sorry you've been annoyed,' said Alice, who was beginning to see its meaning.

`And just as I'd taken the highest tree in the wood,' continued the Pigeon, raising its voice to a shriek, `and just as I was thinking I should be free of them at last, they must needs come wriggling down from the sky! Ugh, Serpent!'

`But I'm not a serpent, I tell you!' said Alice. `I'm a--I'm a--'

`Well! what are you?' said the Pigeon. `I can see you're trying to invent something!'

`I--I'm a little girl,' said Alice, rather doubtfully, as she remembered the number of changes she had gone through that day.

`A likely story indeed!' said the Pigeon in a tone of the deepest contempt. `I've seen a good many little girls in my time, but never one with such a neck as that! No, no! You're a serpent; and there's no use denying it. I suppose you'll be telling me next that you never tasted an egg!'

`I have tasted eggs, certainly,' said Alice, who was a very truthful child; `but little girls eat eggs quite as much as serpents do, you know.'

`I don't believe it,' said the Pigeon; `but if they do, why then they're a kind of serpent, that's all I can say.'

This was such a new idea to Alice, that she was quite silent for a minute or two, which gave the Pigeon the opportunity of adding, `You're looking for eggs, I know that well enough; and what does it matter to me whether you're a little girl or a serpent?'

`It matters a good deal to me ,' said Alice hastily; `but I'm not looking for eggs, as it happens; and if I was, I shouldn't want yours : I don't like them raw.'

`Well, be off, then!' said the Pigeon in a sulky tone, as it settled down again into its nest. Alice crouched down among the trees as well as she could, for her neck kept getting entangled among the branches, and every now and then she had to stop and untwist it. After a while she remembered that she still held the pieces of mushroom in her hands, and she set to work very carefully, nibbling first at one and then at the other, and growing sometimes taller and sometimes shorter, until she had succeeded in bringing herself down to her usual height.

It was so long since she had been anything near the right size, that it felt quite strange at first; but she got used to it in a few minutes, and began talking to herself, as usual. `Come, there's half my plan done now! How puzzling all these changes are! I'm never sure what I'm going to be, from one minute to another! However, I've got back to my right size: the next thing is, to get into that beautiful garden--how is that to be done, I wonder?' As she said this, she came suddenly upon an open place, with a little house in it about four feet high. `Whoever lives there,' thought Alice, `it'll never do to come upon them this size: why, I should frighten them out of their wits!' So she began nibbling at the righthand bit again, and did not venture to go near the house till she had brought herself down to nine inches high.

CHAPTER VI

Pig and Pepper

For a minute or two she stood looking at the house, and wondering what to do next, when suddenly a footman in livery came running out of the wood--(she considered him to be a footman because he was in livery: otherwise, judging by his face only, she would have called him a fish)--and rapped loudly at the door with his knuckles. It was opened by another footman in livery, with a round face, and large eyes like a frog; and both footmen, Alice noticed, had powdered hair that curled all over their heads. She felt very curious to know what it was all about, and crept a little way out of the wood to listen.

The Fish-Footman began by producing from under his arm a great letter, nearly as large as himself, and this he handed over to the other, saying, in a solemn tone, `For the Duchess. An invitation from the Queen to play croquet.' The Frog-Footman repeated, in the same solemn tone, only changing the order of the words a little, `From the Queen. An invitation for the Duchess to play croquet.'

Then they both bowed low, and their curls got entangled together.

Alice laughed so much at this, that she had to run back into the wood for fear of their hearing her; and when she next peeped out the Fish-Footman was gone, and the other was sitting on the ground near the door, staring stupidly up into the sky.

Alice went timidly up to the door, and knocked.

`There's no sort of use in knocking,' said the Footman, `and that for two reasons. First, because I'm on the same side of the door as you are; secondly, because they're making such a noise inside, no one could possibly hear you.' And certainly there was a most extraordinary noise going on within--a constant howling and sneezing, and every now and then a great crash, as if a dish or kettle had been broken to pieces.

`Please, then,' said Alice, `how am I to get in?'

`There might be some sense in your knocking,' the Footman went on without attending to her, `if we had the door between us. For instance, if you were inside , you might knock, and I could let you out, you know.' He was looking up into the sky all the time he was speaking, and this Alice thought decidedly uncivil. `But perhaps he can't help it,' she said to herself; `his eyes are so very nearly at the top of his head. But at any rate he might answer questions.--How am I to get in?' she repeated, aloud.

`I shall sit here,' the Footman remarked, `till tomorrow--'

At this moment the door of the house opened, and a large plate came skimming out, straight at the Footman's head: it just grazed his nose, and broke to pieces against one of the trees behind him.

`--or next day, maybe,' the Footman continued in the same tone, exactly as if nothing had happened.

`How am I to get in?' asked Alice again, in a louder tone.

`Are you to get in at all?' said the Footman. `That's the first question, you know.'

It was, no doubt: only Alice did not like to be told so. `It's really dreadful,' she muttered to herself, `the way all the creatures argue. It's enough to drive one crazy!'

The Footman seemed to think this a good opportunity for repeating his remark, with variations. `I shall sit here,' he said, `on and off, for days and days.'

`But what am I to do?' said Alice.

`Anything you like,' said the Footman, and began whistling.

`Oh, there's no use in talking to him,' said Alice desperately: `he's perfectly idiotic!' And she opened the door and went in.

The door led right into a large kitchen, which was full of smoke from one end to the other: the Duchess was sitting on a three-legged stool in the middle, nursing a baby; the cook was leaning over the fire, stirring a large cauldron which seemed to be full of soup.

`There's certainly too much pepper in that soup!' Alice said to herself, as well as she could for sneezing.

There was certainly too much of it in the air. Even the Duchess sneezed occasionally; and as for the baby, it was sneezing and howling alternately without a moment's pause. The only things in the kitchen that did not sneeze, were the cook, and a large cat which was sitting on the hearth and grinning from ear to ear.

`Please would you tell me,' said Alice, a little timidly, for she was not quite sure whether it was good manners for her to speak first, `why your cat grins like that?'

`It's a Cheshire cat,' said the Duchess, `and that's why. Pig!'

She said the last word with such sudden violence that Alice quite jumped; but she saw in another moment that it was addressed to the baby, and not to her, so she took courage, and went on again:--

`I didn't know that Cheshire cats always grinned; in fact, I didn't know that cats could grin.'

`They all can,' said the Duchess; `and most of 'em do.'

`I don't know of any that do,' Alice said very politely, feeling quite pleased to have got into a conversation.

`You don't know much,' said the Duchess; `and that's a fact.'

Alice did not at all like the tone of this remark, and thought it would be as well to introduce some other subject of conversation. While she was trying to fix on one, the cook took the cauldron of soup off the fire, and at once set to work throwing everything within her reach at the Duchess and the baby --the fire-irons came first; then followed a shower of saucepans, plates, and dishes. The Duchess took no notice of them even when they hit her; and the baby was howling so much already, that it was quite impossible to say whether the blows hurt it or not.

`Oh, please mind what you're doing!' cried Alice, jumping up and down in an agony of terror. `Oh, there goes his precious nose'; as an unusually large saucepan flew close by it, and very nearly carried it off.

`If everybody minded their own business,' the Duchess said in a hoarse growl, `the world would go round a deal faster than it does.'

`Which would not be an advantage,' said Alice, who felt very glad to get an opportunity of showing off a little of her knowledge. `Just think of what work it would make with the day and night! You see the earth takes twenty-four hours to turn round on its axis--'

`Talking of axes,' said the Duchess, `chop off her head!'

Alice glanced rather anxiously at the cook, to see if she meant to take the hint; but the cook was busily stirring the soup, and seemed not to be listening, so she went on again: `Twenty-four hours, I think; or is it twelve? I--'

`Oh, don't bother me,' said the Duchess; `I never could abide figures!' And with that she began nursing her child again, singing a sort of lullaby to it as she did so, and giving it a violent shake at the end of every line:

(In which the cook and the baby joined):--

While the Duchess sang the second verse of the song, she kept tossing the baby violently up and down, and the poor little thing howled so, that Alice could hardly hear the words:--

`Here! you may nurse it a bit, if you like!' the Duchess said to Alice, flinging the baby at her as she spoke. `I must go and get ready to play croquet with the Queen,' and she hurried out of the room. The cook threw a frying-pan after her as she went out, but it just missed her.

Alice caught the baby with some difficulty, as it was a queer-shaped little creature, and held out its arms and legs in all directions, `just like a star-fish,' thought Alice. The poor little thing was snorting like a steam-engine when she caught it, and kept doubling itself up and straightening itself out again, so that altogether, for the first minute or two, it was as much as she could do to hold it.

As soon as she had made out the proper way of nursing it, (which was to twist it up into a sort of knot, and then keep tight hold of its right ear and left foot, so as to prevent its undoing itself,) she carried it out into the open air. `If I don't take this child away with me,' thought Alice, `they're sure to kill it in a day or two: wouldn't it be murder to leave it behind?' She said the last words out loud, and the little thing grunted in reply (it had left off sneezing by this time). `Don't grunt,' said Alice; `that's not at all a proper way of expressing yourself.'

The baby grunted again, and Alice looked very anxiously into its face to see what was the matter with it. There could be no doubt that it had a very turn-up nose, much more like a snout than a real nose; also its eyes were getting extremely small for a baby: altogether Alice did not like the look of the thing at all. `But perhaps it was only sobbing,' she thought, and looked into its eyes again, to see if there were any tears.

No, there were no tears. `If you're going to turn into a pig, my dear,' said Alice, seriously, `I'll have nothing more to do with you. Mind now!' The poor little thing sobbed again (or grunted, it was impossible to say which), and they went on for some while in silence.

Alice was just beginning to think to herself, `Now, what am I to do with this creature when I get it home?' when it grunted again, so violently, that she looked down into its face in some alarm. This time there could be no mistake about it: it was neither more nor less than a pig, and she felt that it would be quite absurd for her to carry it further.

So she set the little creature down, and felt quite relieved to see it trot away quietly into the wood. `If it had grown up,' she said to herself, `it would have made a dreadfully ugly child: but it makes rather a handsome pig, I think.' And she began thinking over other children she knew, who might do very well as pigs, and was just saying to herself, `if one only knew the right way to change them--' when she was a little startled by seeing the Cheshire Cat sitting on a bough of a tree a few yards off.

The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked good-natured, she thought: still it had very long claws and a great many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect.

`Cheshire Puss,' she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. `Come, it's pleased so far,' thought Alice, and she went on. `Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?'

`That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat.

`I don't much care where--' said Alice.

`Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat.

`--so long as I get somewhere ,' Alice added as an explanation.

`Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, `if you only walk long enough.'

Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another question. `What sort of people live about here?'

`In that direction,' the Cat said, waving its right paw round, `lives a Hatter: and in that direction,' waving the other paw, `lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad.'

`But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.

`Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat: `we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.'

`How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice.

`You must be,' said the Cat, `or you wouldn't have come here.'

Alice didn't think that proved it at all; however, she went on `And how do you know that you're mad?'

`To begin with,' said the Cat, `a dog's not mad. You grant that?'

`I suppose so,' said Alice.

`Well, then,' the Cat went on, `you see, a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad.'

`I call it purring, not growling,' said Alice.

`Call it what you like,' said the Cat. `Do you play croquet with the Queen to-day?'

`I should like it very much,' said Alice, `but I haven't been invited yet.'

`You'll see me there,' said the Cat, and vanished.

Alice was not much surprised at this, she was getting so used to queer things happening. While she was looking at the place where it had been, it suddenly appeared again.

`By-the-bye, what became of the baby?' said the Cat. `I'd nearly forgotten to ask.'

`It turned into a pig,' Alice quietly said, just as if it had come back in a natural way.

`I thought it would,' said the Cat, and vanished again.

Alice waited a little, half expecting to see it again, but it did not appear, and after a minute or two she walked on in the direction in which the March Hare was said to live. `I've seen hatters before,' she said to herself; `the March Hare will be much the most interesting, and perhaps as this is May it won't be raving mad--at least not so mad as it was in March.' As she said this, she looked up, and there was the Cat again, sitting on a branch of a tree.

`Did you say pig, or fig?' said the Cat.

`I said pig,' replied Alice; `and I wish you wouldn't keep appearing and vanishing so suddenly: you make one quite giddy.'

`All right,' said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite slowly, beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone.

`Well! I've often seen a cat without a grin,' thought Alice; `but a grin without a cat! It's the most curious thing I ever saw in my life!'

She had not gone much farther before she came in sight of the house of the March Hare: she thought it must be the right house, because the chimneys were shaped like ears and the roof was thatched with fur. It was so large a house, that she did not like to go nearer till she had nibbled some more of the lefthand bit of mushroom, and raised herself to about two feet high: even then she walked up towards it rather timidly, saying to herself `Suppose it should be raving mad after all! I almost wish I'd gone to see the Hatter instead!'

CHAPTER VII

A Mad Tea-Party

There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it: a Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head. `Very uncomfortable for the Dormouse,' thought Alice; `only, as it's asleep, I suppose it doesn't mind.'

The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it: `No room! No room!' they cried out when they saw Alice coming. `There's plenty of room!' said Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table.

`Have some wine,' the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.

Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. `I don't see any wine,' she remarked.

`There isn't any,' said the March Hare.

`Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it,' said Alice angrily.

`It wasn't very civil of you to sit down without being invited,' said the March Hare.

`I didn't know it was your table,' said Alice; `it's laid for a great many more than three.'

`Your hair wants cutting,' said the Hatter. He had been looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was his first speech.

`You should learn not to make personal remarks,' Alice said with some severity; `it's very rude.'

The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he said was, `Why is a raven like a writing-desk?'

`Come, we shall have some fun now!' thought Alice. `I'm glad they've begun asking riddles.--I believe I can guess that,' she added aloud.

`Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?' said the March Hare.

`Exactly so,' said Alice.

`Then you should say what you mean,' the March Hare went on.

`I do,' Alice hastily replied; `at least--at least I mean what I say--that's the same thing, you know.'

`Not the same thing a bit!' said the Hatter. `You might just as well say that "I see what I eat" is the same thing as "I eat what I see"!'

`You might just as well say,' added the March Hare, `that "I like what I get" is the same thing as "I get what I like"!'

`You might just as well say,' added the Dormouse, who seemed to be talking in his sleep, `that "I breathe when I sleep" is the same thing as "I sleep when I breathe"!'

`It is the same thing with you,' said the Hatter, and here the conversation dropped, and the party sat silent for a minute, while Alice thought over all she could remember about ravens and writing-desks, which wasn't much.

The Hatter was the first to break the silence. `What day of the month is it?' he said, turning to Alice: he had taken his watch out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it every now and then, and holding it to his ear.

Alice considered a little, and then said `The fourth.'

`Two days wrong!' sighed the Hatter. `I told you butter wouldn't suit the works!' he added looking angrily at the March Hare.

`It was the best butter,' the March Hare meekly replied.

`Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,' the Hatter grumbled: `you shouldn't have put it in with the bread-knife.'

The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily: then he dipped it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again: but he could think of nothing better to say than his first remark, `It was the best butter, you know.'

Alice had been looking over his shoulder with some curiosity. `What a funny watch!' she remarked. `It tells the day of the month, and doesn't tell what o'clock it is!'

`Why should it?' muttered the Hatter. `Does your watch tell you what year it is?'

`Of course not,' Alice replied very readily: `but that's because it stays the same year for such a long time together.'

`Which is just the case with mine ,' said the Hatter.

Alice felt dreadfully puzzled. The Hatter's remark seemed to have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. `I don't quite understand you,' she said, as politely as she could.

`The Dormouse is asleep again,' said the Hatter, and he poured a little hot tea upon its nose.

The Dormouse shook its head impatiently, and said, without opening its eyes, `Of course, of course; just what I was going to remark myself.'

`Have you guessed the riddle yet?' the Hatter said, turning to Alice again.

`No, I give it up,' Alice replied: `what's the answer?'

`I haven't the slightest idea,' said the Hatter.

`Nor I,' said the March Hare.

Alice sighed wearily. `I think you might do something better with the time,' she said, `than waste it in asking riddles that have no answers.'

`If you knew Time as well as I do,' said the Hatter, `you wouldn't talk about wasting it . It's him .'

`I don't know what you mean,' said Alice.

`Of course you don't!' the Hatter said, tossing his head contemptuously. `I dare say you never even spoke to Time!'

`Perhaps not,' Alice cautiously replied: `but I know I have to beat time when I learn music.'

`Ah! that accounts for it,' said the Hatter. `He won't stand beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he'd do almost anything you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose it were nine o'clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons: you'd only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling! Half-past one, time for dinner!'

(`I only wish it was,' the March Hare said to itself in a whisper.)

`That would be grand, certainly,' said Alice thoughtfully: `but then--I shouldn't be hungry for it, you know.'

`Not at first, perhaps,' said the Hatter: `but you could keep it to half-past one as long as you liked.'

`Is that the way you manage?' Alice asked.

The Hatter shook his head mournfully. `Not I!' he replied. `We quarrelled last March--just before he went mad, you know--' (pointing with his tea spoon at the March Hare,) `--it was at the great concert given by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing

You know the song, perhaps?'

`I've heard something like it,' said Alice.

`It goes on, you know,' the Hatter continued, `in this way:--

Here the Dormouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep `Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle--' and went on so long that they had to pinch it to make it stop.

`Well, I'd hardly finished the first verse,' said the Hatter, `when the Queen jumped up and bawled out, "He's murdering the time! Off with his head!"'

`How dreadfully savage!' exclaimed Alice.

`And ever since that,' the Hatter went on in a mournful tone, `he won't do a thing I ask! It's always six o'clock now.'

A bright idea came into Alice's head. `Is that the reason so many tea-things are put out here?' she asked.

`Yes, that's it,' said the Hatter with a sigh: `it's always tea-time, and we've no time to wash the things between whiles.'

`Then you keep moving round, I suppose?' said Alice.

`Exactly so,' said the Hatter: `as the things get used up.'

`But what happens when you come to the beginning again?' Alice ventured to ask.

`Suppose we change the subject,' the March Hare interrupted, yawning. `I'm getting tired of this. I vote the young lady tells us a story.'

`I'm afraid I don't know one,' said Alice, rather alarmed at the proposal.

`Then the Dormouse shall!' they both cried. `Wake up, Dormouse!' And they pinched it on both sides at once.

The Dormouse slowly opened his eyes. `I wasn't asleep,' he said in a hoarse, feeble voice: `I heard every word you fellows were saying.'

`Tell us a story!' said the March Hare.

`Yes, please do!' pleaded Alice.

`And be quick about it,' added the Hatter, `or you'll be asleep again before it's done.'

`Once upon a time there were three little sisters,' the Dormouse began in a great hurry; `and their names were Elsie, Lacie, and Tillie; and they lived at the bottom of a well--'

`What did they live on?' said Alice, who always took a great interest in questions of eating and drinking.

`They lived on treacle,' said the Dormouse, after thinking a minute or two.

`They couldn't have done that, you know,' Alice gently remarked; `they'd have been ill.'

`So they were,' said the Dormouse; `very ill.'

Alice tried to fancy to herself what such an extraordinary ways of living would be like, but it puzzled her too much, so she went on: `But why did they live at the bottom of a well?'

`Take some more tea,' the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly.

`I've had nothing yet,' Alice replied in an offended tone, `so I can't take more.'

`You mean you can't take less ,' said the Hatter: `it's very easy to take more than nothing.'

`Nobody asked your opinion,' said Alice.

`Who's making personal remarks now?' the Hatter asked triumphantly.

Alice did not quite know what to say to this: so she helped herself to some tea and bread-and-butter, and then turned to the Dormouse, and repeated her question. `Why did they live at the bottom of a well?'

The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and then said, `It was a treacle-well.'

`There's no such thing!' Alice was beginning very angrily, but the Hatter and the March Hare went `Sh! sh!' and the Dormouse sulkily remarked, `If you can't be civil, you'd better finish the story for yourself.'

`No, please go on!' Alice said very humbly; `I won't interrupt again. I dare say there may be one .'

`One, indeed!' said the Dormouse indignantly. However, he consented to go on. `And so these three little sisters--they were learning to draw, you know--'

`What did they draw?' said Alice, quite forgetting her promise.

`Treacle,' said the Dormouse, without considering at all this time.

`I want a clean cup,' interrupted the Hatter: `let's all move one place on.'

He moved on as he spoke, and the Dormouse followed him: the March Hare moved into the Dormouse's place, and Alice rather unwillingly took the place of the March Hare. The Hatter was the only one who got any advantage from the change: and Alice was a good deal worse off than before, as the March Hare had just upset the milk-jug into his plate.

Alice did not wish to offend the Dormouse again, so she began very cautiously: `But I don't understand. Where did they draw the treacle from?'

`You can draw water out of a water-well,' said the Hatter; `so I should think you could draw treacle out of a treacle-well--eh, stupid?'

`But they were in the well,' Alice said to the Dormouse, not choosing to notice this last remark.

`Of course they were', said the Dormouse; `--well in.'

This answer so confused poor Alice, that she let the Dormouse go on for some time without interrupting it.

`They were learning to draw,' the Dormouse went on, yawning and rubbing its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy; `and they drew all manner of things--everything that begins with an M--'

`Why with an M?' said Alice.

`Why not?' said the March Hare.

Alice was silent.

The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going off into a doze; but, on being pinched by the Hatter, it woke up again with a little shriek, and went on: `--that begins with an M, such as mouse-traps, and the moon, and memory, and muchness-- you know you say things are "much of a muchness"--did you ever see such a thing as a drawing of a muchness?'

`Really, now you ask me,' said Alice, very much confused, `I don't think--'

`Then you shouldn't talk,' said the Hatter.

This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear: she got up in great disgust, and walked off; the Dormouse fell asleep instantly, and neither of the others took the least notice of her going, though she looked back once or twice, half hoping that they would call after her: the last time she saw them, they were trying to put the Dormouse into the teapot.

`At any rate I'll never go there again!' said Alice as she picked her way through the wood. `It's the stupidest tea-party I ever was at in all my life!'

Just as she said this, she noticed that one of the trees had a door leading right into it. `That's very curious!' she thought. `But everything's curious today. I think I may as well go in at once.' And in she went.

Once more she found herself in the long hall, and close to the little glass table. `Now, I'll manage better this time,' she said to herself, and began by taking the little golden key, and unlocking the door that led into the garden. Then she went to work nibbling at the mushroom (she had kept a piece of it in her pocket) till she was about a foot high: then she walked down the little passage: and then --she found herself at last in the beautiful garden, among the bright flower-beds and the cool fountains.

CHAPTER VIII

The Queen's Croquet-Ground

A large rose-tree stood near the entrance of the garden: the roses growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at it, busily painting them red. Alice thought this a very curious thing, and she went nearer to watch them, and just as she came up to them she heard one of them say, `Look out now, Five! Don't go splashing paint over me like that!'

`I couldn't help it,' said Five, in a sulky tone; `Seven jogged my elbow.'

On which Seven looked up and said, `That's right, Five! Always lay the blame on others!'

`You'd better not talk!' said Five. `I heard the Queen say only yesterday you deserved to be beheaded!'

`What for?' said the one who had spoken first.

`That's none of your business, Two!' said Seven.

`Yes, it is his business!' said Five, `and I'll tell him--it was for bringing the cook tulip-roots instead of onions.'

Seven flung down his brush, and had just begun `Well, of all the unjust things--' when his eye chanced to fall upon Alice, as she stood watching them, and he checked himself suddenly: the others looked round also, and all of them bowed low.

`Would you tell me,' said Alice, a little timidly, `why you are painting those roses?'

Five and Seven said nothing, but looked at Two. Two began in a low voice, `Why the fact is, you see, Miss, this here ought to have been a red rose-tree, and we put a white one in by mistake; and if the Queen was to find it out, we should all have our heads cut off, you know. So you see, Miss, we're doing our best, afore she comes, to--' At this moment Five, who had been anxiously looking across the garden, called out `The Queen! The Queen!' and the three gardeners instantly threw themselves flat upon their faces. There was a sound of many footsteps, and Alice looked round, eager to see the Queen.

First came ten soldiers carrying clubs; these were all shaped like the three gardeners, oblong and flat, with their hands and feet at the corners: next the ten courtiers; these were ornamented all over with diamonds, and walked two and two, as the soldiers did. After these came the royal children; there were ten of them, and the little dears came jumping merrily along hand in hand, in couples: they were all ornamented with hearts. Next came the guests, mostly Kings and Queens, and among them Alice recognised the White Rabbit: it was talking in a hurried nervous manner, smiling at everything that was said, and went by without noticing her. Then followed the Knave of Hearts, carrying the King's crown on a crimson velvet cushion; and, last of all this grand procession, came the King and Queen of Hearts .

Alice was rather doubtful whether she ought not to lie down on her face like the three gardeners, but she could not remember ever having heard of such a rule at processions; `and besides, what would be the use of a procession,' thought she, `if people had all to lie down upon their faces, so that they couldn't see it?' So she stood still where she was, and waited.

When the procession came opposite to Alice, they all stopped and looked at her, and the Queen said severely `Who is this?' She said it to the Knave of Hearts, who only bowed and smiled in reply.

`Idiot!' said the Queen, tossing her head impatiently; and, turning to Alice, she went on, `What's your name, child?'

`My name is Alice, so please your Majesty,' said Alice very politely; but she added, to herself, `Why, they're only a pack of cards, after all. I needn't be afraid of them!'

`And who are these ?' said the Queen, pointing to the three gardeners who were lying round the rosetree; for, you see, as they were lying on their faces, and the pattern on their backs was the same as the rest of the pack, she could not tell whether they were gardeners, or soldiers, or courtiers, or three of her own children.

`How should I know?' said Alice, surprised at her own courage. `It's no business of mine .'

The Queen turned crimson with fury, and, after glaring at her for a moment like a wild beast, screamed `Off with her head! Off--'

`Nonsense!' said Alice, very loudly and decidedly, and the Queen was silent.

The King laid his hand upon her arm, and timidly said `Consider, my dear: she is only a child!'

The Queen turned angrily away from him, and said to the Knave `Turn them over!'

The Knave did so, very carefully, with one foot.

`Get up!' said the Queen, in a shrill, loud voice, and the three gardeners instantly jumped up, and began bowing to the King, the Queen, the royal children, and everybody else.

`Leave off that!' screamed the Queen. `You make me giddy.' And then, turning to the rose-tree, she went on, `What have you been doing here?'

`May it please your Majesty,' said Two, in a very humble tone, going down on one knee as he spoke, `we were trying--'

`I see!' said the Queen, who had meanwhile been examining the roses. `Off with their heads!' and the procession moved on, three of the soldiers remaining behind to execute the unfortunate gardeners, who ran to Alice for protection.

`You shan't be beheaded!' said Alice, and she put them into a large flower-pot that stood near. The three soldiers wandered about for a minute or two, looking for them, and then quietly marched off after the others.

`Are their heads off?' shouted the Queen.

`Their heads are gone, if it please your Majesty!' the soldiers shouted in reply.

`That's right!' shouted the Queen. `Can you play croquet?'

The soldiers were silent, and looked at Alice, as the question was evidently meant for her.

`Yes!' shouted Alice.

`Come on, then!' roared the Queen, and Alice joined the procession, wondering very much what would happen next.

`It's--it's a very fine day!' said a timid voice at her side. She was walking by the White Rabbit, who was peeping anxiously into her face.

`Very,' said Alice: `--where's the Duchess?'

`Hush! Hush!' said the Rabbit in a low, hurried tone. He looked anxiously over his shoulder as he spoke, and then raised himself upon tiptoe, put his mouth close to her ear, and whispered `She's under sentence of execution.'

`What for?' said Alice.

`Did you say "What a pity!"?' the Rabbit asked.

`No, I didn't,' said Alice: `I don't think it's at all a pity. I said "What for?"'

`She boxed the Queen's ears--' the Rabbit began. Alice gave a little scream of laughter. `Oh, hush!' the Rabbit whispered in a frightened tone. `The Queen will hear you! You see, she came rather late, and the Queen said--'

`Get to your places!' shouted the Queen in a voice of thunder, and people began running about in all directions, tumbling up against each other; however, they got settled down in a minute or two, and the game began. Alice thought she had never seen such a curious croquet-ground in her life; it was all ridges and furrows; the balls were live hedgehogs, the mallets live flamingoes, and the soldiers had to double themselves up and to stand on their hands and feet, to make the arches.

The chief difficulty Alice found at first was in managing her flamingo: she succeeded in getting its body tucked away, comfortably enough, under her arm, with its legs hanging down, but generally, just as she had got its neck nicely straightened out, and was going to give the hedgehog a blow with its head, it would twist itself round and look up in her face, with such a puzzled expression that she could not help bursting out laughing: and when she had got its head down, and was going to begin again, it was very provoking to find that the hedgehog had unrolled itself, and was in the act of crawling away: besides all this, there was generally a ridge or furrow in the way wherever she wanted to send the hedgehog to, and, as the doubled-up soldiers were always getting up and walking off to other parts of the ground, Alice soon came to the conclusion that it was a very difficult game indeed.

The players all played at once without waiting for turns, quarrelling all the while, and fighting for the hedgehogs; and in a very short time the Queen was in a furious passion, and went stamping about, and shouting `Off with his head!' or `Off with her head!' about once in a minute.

Alice began to feel very uneasy: to be sure, she had not as yet had any dispute with the Queen, but she knew that it might happen any minute, `and then,' thought she, `what would become of me? They're dreadfully fond of beheading people here; the great wonder is, that there's any one left alive!'

She was looking about for some way of escape, and wondering whether she could get away without being seen, when she noticed a curious appearance in the air: it puzzled her very much at first, but, after watching it a minute or two, she made it out to be a grin, and she said to herself `It's the Cheshire Cat: now I shall have somebody to talk to.'

`How are you getting on?' said the Cat, as soon as there was mouth enough for it to speak with.

Alice waited till the eyes appeared, and then nodded. `It's no use speaking to it,' she thought, `till its ears have come, or at least one of them.' In another minute the whole head appeared, and then Alice put down her flamingo, and began an account of the game, feeling very glad she had someone to listen to her. The Cat seemed to think that there was enough of it now in sight, and no more of it appeared.

`I don't think they play at all fairly,' Alice began, in rather a complaining tone, `and they all quarrel so dreadfully one can't hear oneself speak--and they don't seem to have any rules in particular; at least, if there are, nobody attends to them--and you've no idea how confusing it is all the things being alive; for instance, there's the arch I've got to go through next walking about at the other end of the ground--and I should have croqueted the Queen's hedgehog just now, only it ran away when it saw mine coming!'

`How do you like the Queen?' said the Cat in a low voice.

`Not at all,' said Alice: `she's so extremely--' Just then she noticed that the Queen was close behind her, listening: so she went on, `--likely to win, that it's hardly worth while finishing the game.'

The Queen smiled and passed on.

`Who are you talking to?' said the King, going up to Alice, and looking at the Cat's head with great curiosity.

`It's a friend of mine--a Cheshire Cat,' said Alice: `allow me to introduce it.'

`I don't like the look of it at all,' said the King: `however, it may kiss my hand if it likes.'

`I'd rather not,' the Cat remarked.

`Don't be impertinent,' said the King, `and don't look at me like that!' He got behind Alice as he spoke.

`A cat may look at a king,' said Alice. `I've read that in some book, but I don't remember where.'

`Well, it must be removed,' said the King very decidedly, and he called the Queen, who was passing at the moment, `My dear! I wish you would have this cat removed!'

The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great or small. `Off with his head!' she said, without even looking round.

`I'll fetch the executioner myself,' said the King eagerly, and he hurried off.

Alice thought she might as well go back, and see how the game was going on, as she heard the Queen's voice in the distance, screaming with passion. She had already heard her sentence three of the players to be executed for having missed their turns, and she did not like the look of things at all, as the game was in such confusion that she never knew whether it was her turn or not. So she went in search of her hedgehog.

The hedgehog was engaged in a fight with another hedgehog, which seemed to Alice an excellent opportunity for croqueting one of them with the other: the only difficulty was, that her flamingo was gone across to the other side of the garden, where Alice could see it trying in a helpless sort of way to fly up into a tree.

By the time she had caught the flamingo and brought it back, the fight was over, and both the hedgehogs were out of sight: `but it doesn't matter much,' thought Alice, `as all the arches are gone from this side of the ground.' So she tucked it away under her arm, that it might not escape again, and went back for a little more conversation with her friend.

When she got back to the Cheshire Cat, she was surprised to find quite a large crowd collected round it: there was a dispute going on between the executioner, the King, and the Queen, who were all talking at once, while all the rest were quite silent, and looked very uncomfortable.

The moment Alice appeared, she was appealed to by all three to settle the question, and they repeated their arguments to her, though, as they all spoke at once, she found it very hard indeed to make out exactly what they said.

The executioner's argument was, that you couldn't cut off a head unless there was a body to cut it off from: that he had never had to do such a thing before, and he wasn't going to begin at his time of life.

The King's argument was, that anything that had a head could be beheaded, and that you weren't to talk nonsense.

The Queen's argument was, that if something wasn't done about it in less than no time she'd have everybody executed, all round. (It was this last remark that had made the whole party look so grave and anxious.)

Alice could think of nothing else to say but `It belongs to the Duchess: you'd better ask her about it.'

`She's in prison,' the Queen said to the executioner: `fetch her here.' And the executioner went off like an arrow.

The Cat's head began fading away the moment he was gone, and, by the time he had come back with the Dutchess, it had entirely disappeared; so the King and the executioner ran wildly up and down looking for it, while the rest of the party went back to the game.

CHAPTER IX

The Mock Turtle's Story

`You can't think how glad I am to see you again, you dear old thing!' said the Duchess, as she tucked her arm affectionately into Alice's, and they walked off together.

Alice was very glad to find her in such a pleasant temper, and thought to herself that perhaps it was only the pepper that had made her so savage when they met in the kitchen.

`When I'm a Duchess,' she said to herself, (not in a very hopeful tone though), `I won't have any pepper in my kitchen at all. Soup does very well without--Maybe it's always pepper that makes people hot-tempered,' she went on, very much pleased at having found out a new kind of rule, `and vinegar that makes them sour--and camomile that makes them bitter--and--and barley-sugar and such things that make children sweet-tempered. I only wish people knew that: then they wouldn't be so stingy about it, you know--'

She had quite forgotten the Duchess by this time, and was a little startled when she heard her voice close to her ear. `You're thinking about something, my dear, and that makes you forget to talk. I can't tell you just now what the moral of that is, but I shall remember it in a bit.'

`Perhaps it hasn't one,' Alice ventured to remark.

`Tut, tut, child!' said the Duchess. `Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it.' And she squeezed herself up closer to Alice's side as she spoke.

Alice did not much like keeping so close to her: first, because the Duchess was very ugly; and secondly, because she was exactly the right height to rest her chin upon Alice's shoulder, and it was an uncomfortably sharp chin. However, she did not like to be rude, so she bore it as well as she could.

`The game's going on rather better now,' she said, by way of keeping up the conversation a little.

`'Tis so,' said the Duchess: `and the moral of that is--"Oh, 'tis love, 'tis love, that makes the world go round!"'

`Somebody said,' Alice whispered, `that it's done by everybody minding their own business!'

`Ah, well! It means much the same thing,' said the Duchess, digging her sharp little chin into Alice's shoulder as she added, `and the moral of that is--"Take care of the sense, and the sounds will take care of themselves."'

`How fond she is of finding morals in things!' Alice thought to herself.

`I dare say you're wondering why I don't put my arm round your waist,' the Duchess said after a pause: `the reason is, that I'm doubtful about the temper of your flamingo. Shall I try the experiment?'

`He might bite,' Alice cautiously replied, not feeling at all anxious to have the experiment tried.

`Very true,' said the Duchess: `flamingoes and mustard both bite. And the moral of that is--"Birds of a feather flock together."'

`Only mustard isn't a bird,' Alice remarked.

`Right, as usual,' said the Duchess: `what a clear way you have of putting things!'

`It's a mineral, I think,' said Alice.

`Of course it is,' said the Duchess, who seemed ready to agree to everything that Alice said; `there's a large mustard-mine near here. And the moral of that is--"The more there is of mine, the less there is of yours."'

`Oh, I know!' exclaimed Alice, who had not attended to this last remark, `it's a vegetable. It doesn't look like one, but it is.'

`I quite agree with you,' said the Duchess; `and the moral of that is--"Be what you would seem to be"--or if you'd like it put more simply--"Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise."'

`I think I should understand that better,' Alice said very politely, `if I had it written down: but I can't quite follow it as you say it.'

`That's nothing to what I could say if I chose,' the Duchess replied, in a pleased tone.

`Pray don't trouble yourself to say it any longer than that,' said Alice.

`Oh, don't talk about trouble!' said the Duchess. `I make you a present of everything I've said as yet.'

`A cheap sort of present!' thought Alice. `I'm glad they don't give birthday presents like that!' But she did not venture to say it out loud.

`Thinking again?' the Duchess asked, with another dig of her sharp little chin.

`I've a right to think,' said Alice sharply, for she was beginning to feel a little worried.

`Just about as much right,' said the Duchess, `as pigs have to fly; and the m--'

But here, to Alice's great surprise, the Duchess's voice died away, even in the middle of her favourite word `moral,' and the arm that was linked into hers began to tremble. Alice looked up, and there stood the Queen in front of them, with her arms folded, frowning like a thunderstorm.

`A fine day, your Majesty!' the Duchess began in a low, weak voice.

`Now, I give you fair warning,' shouted the Queen, stamping on the ground as she spoke; `either you or your head must be off, and that in about half no time! Take your choice!'

The Duchess took her choice, and was gone in a moment.

`Let's go on with the game,' the Queen said to Alice; and Alice was too much frightened to say a word, but slowly followed her back to the croquet-ground.

The other guests had taken advantage of the Queen's absence, and were resting in the shade: however, the moment they saw her, they hurried back to the game, the Queen merely remarking that a moment's delay would cost them their lives.

All the time they were playing the Queen never left off quarrelling with the other players, and shouting `Off with his head!' or `Off with her head!' Those whom she sentenced were taken into custody by the soldiers, who of course had to leave off being arches to do this, so that by the end of half an hour or so there were no arches left, and all the players, except the King, the Queen, and Alice, were in custody and under sentence of execution.

Then the Queen left off, quite out of breath, and said to Alice, `Have you seen the Mock Turtle yet?'

`No,' said Alice. `I don't even know what a Mock Turtle is.'

`It's the thing Mock Turtle Soup is made from,' said the Queen.

`I never saw one, or heard of one,' said Alice.

`Come on, then,' said the Queen, `and he shall tell you his history,'

As they walked off together, Alice heard the King say in a low voice, to the company generally, `You are all pardoned.' `Come, That's a good thing!' she said to herself, for she had felt quite unhappy at the number of executions the Queen had ordered.

They very soon came upon a Gryphon, lying fast asleep in the sun. (If you don't know what a Gryphon is, look at the picture.) `Up, lazy thing!' said the Queen, `and take this young lady to see the Mock Turtle, and to hear his history. I must go back and see after some executions I have ordered'; and she walked off, leaving Alice alone with the Gryphon. Alice did not quite like the look of the creature, but on the whole she thought it would be quite as safe to stay with it as to go after that savage Queen: so she waited.

The Gryphon sat up and rubbed its eyes: then it watched the Queen till she was out of sight: then it chuckled. `What fun!' said the Gryphon, half to itself, half to Alice.

`What is the fun?' said Alice.

`Why, she ,' said the Gryphon. `It's all her fancy, that: they never executes nobody, you know. Come on!'

`Everybody says "come on!" here,' thought Alice, as she went slowly after it: `I never was so ordered about in all my life, never!'

They had not gone far before they saw the Mock Turtle in the distance, sitting sad and lonely on a little ledge of rock, and, as they came nearer, Alice could hear him sighing as if his heart would break. She pitied him deeply. `What is his sorrow?' she asked the Gryphon, and the Gryphon answered, very nearly in the same words as before, `It's all his fancy, that: he hasn't got no sorrow, you know. Come on!'

So they went up to the Mock Turtle, who looked at them with large eyes full of tears, but said nothing.

`This here young lady,' said the Gryphon, `she wants for to know your history, she do.'

`I'll tell it her,' said the Mock Turtle in a deep, hollow tone: `sit down, both of you, and don't speak a word till I've finished.'

So they sat down, and nobody spoke for some minutes. Alice thought to herself, `I don't see how he can even finish, if he doesn't begin.' But she waited patiently.

`Once,' said the Mock Turtle at last, with a deep sigh, `I was a real Turtle.'

These words were followed by a very long silence, broken only by an occasional exclamation of `Hjckrrh!' from the Gryphon, and the constant heavy sobbing of the Mock Turtle. Alice was very nearly getting up and saying, `Thank you, sir, for your interesting story,' but she could not help thinking there must be more to come, so she sat still and said nothing.

`When we were little,' the Mock Turtle went on at last, more calmly, though still sobbing a little now and then, `we went to school in the sea. The master was an old Turtle--we used to call him Tortoise--'

`Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn't one?' Alice asked.

`We called him Tortoise because he taught us,' said the Mock Turtle angrily: `really you are very dull!'

`You ought to be ashamed of yourself for asking such a simple question,' added the Gryphon; and then they both sat silent and looked at poor Alice, who felt ready to sink into the earth. At last the Gryphon said to the Mock Turtle, `Drive on, old fellow! Don't be all day about it!' and he went on in these words:

`Yes, we went to school in the sea, though you mayn't believe it--'

`I never said I didn't!' interrupted Alice.

`You did,' said the Mock Turtle.

`Hold your tongue!' added the Gryphon, before Alice could speak again. The Mock Turtle went on.

`We had the best of educations--in fact, we went to school every day--'

`I've been to a day-school, too,' said Alice; `you needn't be so proud as all that.'

`With extras?' asked the Mock Turtle a little anxiously.

`Yes,' said Alice, `we learned French and music.'

`And washing?' said the Mock Turtle.

`Certainly not!' said Alice indignantly.

`Ah! then yours wasn't a really good school,' said the Mock Turtle in a tone of great relief. `Now at ours they had at the end of the bill, "French, music, and washing --extra."'

`You couldn't have wanted it much,' said Alice; `living at the bottom of the sea.'

`I couldn't afford to learn it.' said the Mock Turtle with a sigh. `I only took the regular course.'

`What was that?' inquired Alice.

`Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,' the Mock Turtle replied; `and then the different branches of Arithmetic-- Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.'

`I never heard of "Uglification,"' Alice ventured to say. `What is it?'

The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise. `What! Never heard of uglifying!' it exclaimed. `You know what to beautify is, I suppose?'

`Yes,' said Alice doubtfully: `it means--to--make--anything--prettier.'

`Well, then,' the Gryphon went on, `if you don't know what to uglify is, you are a simpleton.'

Alice did not feel encouraged to ask any more questions about it, so she turned to the Mock Turtle, and said `What else had you to learn?'

`Well, there was Mystery,' the Mock Turtle replied, counting off the subjects on his flappers, `--Mystery, ancient and modern, with Seaography: then Drawling--the Drawling-master was an old conger-eel, that used to come once a week: He taught us Drawling, Stretching, and Fainting in Coils.'

`What was that like?' said Alice.

`Well, I can't show it you myself,' the Mock Turtle said: `I'm too stiff. And the Gryphon never learnt it.'

`Hadn't time,' said the Gryphon: `I went to the Classics master, though. He was an old crab, he was.'

`I never went to him,' the Mock Turtle said with a sigh: `he taught Laughing and Grief, they used to say.'

`So he did, so he did,' said the Gryphon, sighing in his turn; and both creatures hid their faces in their paws.

`And how many hours a day did you do lessons?' said Alice, in a hurry to change the subject.

`Ten hours the first day,' said the Mock Turtle: `nine the next, and so on.'

`What a curious plan!' exclaimed Alice.

`That's the reason they're called lessons,' the Gryphon remarked: `because they lessen from day to day.'

This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought it over a little before she made her next remark. `Then the eleventh day must have been a holiday?'

`Of course it was,' said the Mock Turtle.

`And how did you manage on the twelfth?' Alice went on eagerly.

`That's enough about lessons,' the Gryphon interrupted in a very decided tone: `tell her something about the games now.'

CHAPTER X

The Lobster Quadrille

The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and drew the back of one flapper across his eyes. He looked at Alice, and tried to speak, but for a minute or two sobs choked his voice. `Same as if he had a bone in his throat,' said the Gryphon: and it set to work shaking him and punching him in the back. At last the Mock Turtle recovered his voice, and, with tears running down his cheeks, he went on again:--

`You may not have lived much under the sea--' (`I haven't,' said Alice)-- `and perhaps you were never even introduced to a lobster--' (Alice began to say `I once tasted--' but checked herself hastily, and said `No, never') `--so you can have no idea what a delightful thing a Lobster Quadrille is!'

`No, indeed,' said Alice. `What sort of a dance is it?'

`Why,' said the Gryphon, `you first form into a line along the sea-shore--'

`Two lines!' cried the Mock Turtle. `Seals, turtles, salmon, and so on; then, when you've cleared all the jelly-fish out of the way--'

`That generally takes some time,' interrupted the Gryphon.

`--you advance twice--'

`Each with a lobster as a partner!' cried the Gryphon.

`Of course,' the Mock Turtle said: `advance twice, set to partners--'

`--change lobsters, and retire in same order,' continued the Gryphon.

`Then, you know,' the Mock Turtle went on, `you throw the--'

`The lobsters!' shouted the Gryphon, with a bound into the air.

`--as far out to sea as you can--'

`Swim after them!' screamed the Gryphon.

`Turn a somersault in the sea!' cried the Mock Turtle, capering wildly about.

`Change lobster's again!' yelled the Gryphon at the top of its voice.

`Back to land again, and that's all the first figure,' said the Mock Turtle, suddenly dropping his voice; and the two creatures, who had been jumping about like mad things all this time, sat down again very sadly and quietly, and looked at Alice.

`It must be a very pretty dance,' said Alice timidly.

`Would you like to see a little of it?' said the Mock Turtle.

`Very much indeed,' said Alice.

`Come, let's try the first figure!' said the Mock Turtle to the Gryphon. `We can do without lobsters, you know. Which shall sing?'

`Oh, you sing,' said the Gryphon. `I've forgotten the words.'

So they began solemnly dancing round and round Alice, every now and then treading on her toes when they passed too close, and waving their forepaws to mark the time, while the Mock Turtle sang this, very slowly and sadly:--

`Thank you, it's a very interesting dance to watch,' said Alice, feeling very glad that it was over at last: `and I do so like that curious song about the whiting!'

`Oh, as to the whiting,' said the Mock Turtle, `they--you've seen them, of course?'

`Yes,' said Alice, `I've often seen them at dinn--' she checked herself hastily.

`I don't know where Dinn may be,' said the Mock Turtle, `but if you've seen them so often, of course you know what they're like.'

`I believe so,' Alice replied thoughtfully. `They have their tails in their mouths--and they're all over crumbs.'

`You're wrong about the crumbs,' said the Mock Turtle: `crumbs would all wash off in the sea. But they have their tails in their mouths; and the reason is--' here the Mock Turtle yawned and shut his eyes.--`Tell her about the reason and all that,' he said to the Gryphon.

`The reason is,' said the Gryphon, `that they would go with the lobsters to the dance. So they got thrown out to sea. So they had to fall a long way. So they got their tails fast in their mouths. So they couldn't get them out again. That's all.'

`Thank you,' said Alice, `it's very interesting. I never knew so much about a whiting before.'

`I can tell you more than that, if you like,' said the Gryphon. `Do you know why it's called a whiting?'

`I never thought about it,' said Alice. `Why?'

`It does the boots and shoes .' the Gryphon replied very solemnly.

Alice was thoroughly puzzled. `Does the boots and shoes!' she repeated in a wondering tone.

`Why, what are your shoes done with?' said the Gryphon. `I mean, what makes them so shiny?'

Alice looked down at them, and considered a little before she gave her answer. `They're done with blacking, I believe.'

`Boots and shoes under the sea,' the Gryphon went on in a deep voice, `are done with a whiting. Now you know.'

`And what are they made of?' Alice asked in a tone of great curiosity.

`Soles and eels, of course,' the Gryphon replied rather impatiently: `any shrimp could have told you that.'

`If I'd been the whiting,' said Alice, whose thoughts were still running on the song, `I'd have said to the porpoise, "Keep back, please: we don't want you with us!"'

`They were obliged to have him with them,' the Mock Turtle said: `no wise fish would go anywhere without a porpoise.'

`Wouldn't it really?' said Alice in a tone of great surprise.

`Of course not,' said the Mock Turtle: `why, if a fish came to me , and told me he was going a journey, I should say "With what porpoise?"'

`Don't you mean "purpose"?' said Alice.

`I mean what I say,' the Mock Turtle replied in an offended tone. And the Gryphon added `Come, let's hear some of your adventures.'

`I could tell you my adventures--beginning from this morning,' said Alice a little timidly: `but it's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.'

`Explain all that,' said the Mock Turtle.

`No, no! The adventures first,' said the Gryphon in an impatient tone: `explanations take such a dreadful time.'

So Alice began telling them her adventures from the time when she first saw the White Rabbit. She was a little nervous about it just at first, the two creatures got so close to her, one on each side, and opened their eyes and mouths so very wide, but she gained courage as she went on. Her listeners were perfectly quiet till she got to the part about her repeating `You are Old, Father William ,' to the Caterpillar, and the words all coming different, and then the Mock Turtle drew a long breath, and said `That's very curious.'

`It's all about as curious as it can be,' said the Gryphon.

`It all came different!' the Mock Turtle repeated thoughtfully. `I should like to hear her try and repeat something now. Tell her to begin.' He looked at the Gryphon as if he thought it had some kind of authority over Alice.

`Stand up and repeat "'Tis the Voice of the Sluggard ,"' said the Gryphon.

`How the creatures order one about, and make one repeat lessons!' thought Alice; `I might as well be at school at once.' However, she got up, and began to repeat it, but her head was so full of the Lobster Quadrille, that she hardly knew what she was saying, and the words came very queer indeed:--

`That's different from what I used to say when I was a child,' said the Gryphon.

`Well, I never heard it before,' said the Mock Turtle; `but it sounds uncommon nonsense.'

Alice said nothing; she had sat down with her face in her hands, wondering if anything would ever happen in a natural way again.

`I should like to have it explained,' said the Mock Turtle.

`She can't explain it,' said the Gryphon hastily. `Go on with the next verse.'

`But about his toes?' the Mock Turtle persisted. `How could he turn them out with his nose, you know?'

`It's the first position in dancing.' Alice said; but was dreadfully puzzled by the whole thing, and longed to change the subject.

`Go on with the next verse,' the Gryphon repeated impatiently: `it begins "I passed by his garden."'

Alice did not dare to disobey, though she felt sure it would all come wrong, and she went on in a trembling voice:--

`What is the use of repeating all that stuff,' the Mock Turtle interrupted, `if you don't explain it as you go on? It's by far the most confusing thing I ever heard!'

`Yes, I think you'd better leave off,' said the Gryphon: and Alice was only too glad to do so.

`Shall we try another figure of the Lobster Quadrille?' the Gryphon went on. `Or would you like the Mock Turtle to sing you a song?'

`Oh, a song, please, if the Mock Turtle would be so kind,' Alice replied, so eagerly that the Gryphon said, in a rather offended tone, `Hm! No accounting for tastes! Sing her "Turtle Soup," will you, old fellow?'

The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and began, in a voice sometimes choked with sobs, to sing this:--

`Chorus again!' cried the Gryphon, and the Mock Turtle had just begun to repeat it, when a cry of `The trial's beginning!' was heard in the distance.

`Come on!' cried the Gryphon, and, taking Alice by the hand, it hurried off, without waiting for the end of the song.

`What trial is it?' Alice panted as she ran; but the Gryphon only answered `Come on!' and ran the faster, while more and more faintly came, carried on the breeze that followed them, the melancholy words:--

CHAPTER XI

Who Stole the Tarts?

The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when they arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them--all sorts of little birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards: the Knave was standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on each side to guard him; and near the King was the White Rabbit, with a trumpet in one hand, and a scroll of parchment in the other. In the very middle of the court was a table, with a large dish of tarts upon it: they looked so good, that it made Alice quite hungry to look at them--`I wish they'd get the trial done,' she thought, `and hand round the refreshments!' But there seemed to be no chance of this, so she began looking at everything about her, to pass away the time.

Alice had never been in a court of justice before, but she had read about them in books, and she was quite pleased to find that she knew the name of nearly everything there. `That's the judge,' she said to herself, `because of his great wig.'

The judge, by the way, was the King; and as he wore his crown over the wig, (look at the frontispiece if you want to see how he did it,) he did not look at all comfortable, and it was certainly not becoming.

`And that's the jury-box,' thought Alice, `and those twelve creatures,' (she was obliged to say `creatures,' you see, because some of them were animals, and some were birds,) `I suppose they are the jurors.' She said this last word two or three times over to herself, being rather proud of it: for she thought, and rightly too, that very few little girls of her age knew the meaning of it at all. However, `jury-men' would have done just as well.

The twelve jurors were all writing very busily on slates. `What are they doing?' Alice whispered to the Gryphon. `They can't have anything to put down yet, before the trial's begun.'

`They're putting down their names,' the Gryphon whispered in reply, `for fear they should forget them before the end of the trial.'

`Stupid things!' Alice began in a loud, indignant voice, but she stopped hastily, for the White Rabbit cried out, `Silence in the court!' and the King put on his spectacles and looked anxiously round, to make out who was talking.

Alice could see, as well as if she were looking over their shoulders, that all the jurors were writing down `stupid things!' on their slates, and she could even make out that one of them didn't know how to spell `stupid,' and that he had to ask his neighbour to tell him. `A nice muddle their slates'll be in before the trial's over!' thought Alice.

One of the jurors had a pencil that squeaked. This of course, Alice could not stand, and she went round the court and got behind him, and very soon found an opportunity of taking it away. She did it so quickly that the poor little juror (it was Bill, the Lizard) could not make out at all what had become of it; so, after hunting all about for it, he was obliged to write with one finger for the rest of the day; and this was of very little use, as it left no mark on the slate.

`Herald, read the accusation!' said the King.

On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and then unrolled the parchment scroll, and read as follows:--

`Consider your verdict,' the King said to the jury.

`Not yet, not yet!' the Rabbit hastily interrupted. `There's a great deal to come before that!'

`Call the first witness,' said the King; and the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and called out, `First witness!'

The first witness was the Hatter. He came in with a teacup in one hand and a piece of bread-and-butter in the other. `I beg pardon, your Majesty,' he began, `for bringing these in: but I hadn't quite finished my tea when I was sent for.'

`You ought to have finished,' said the King. `When did you begin?'

The Hatter looked at the March Hare, who had followed him into the court, arm-in-arm with the Dormouse. `Fourteenth of March, I think it was,' he said.

`Fifteenth,' said the March Hare.

`Sixteenth,' added the Dormouse.

`Write that down,' the King said to the jury, and the jury eagerly wrote down all three dates on their slates, and then added them up, and reduced the answer to shillings and pence.

`Take off your hat,' the King said to the Hatter.

`It isn't mine,' said the Hatter.

`Stolen!' the King exclaimed, turning to the jury, who instantly made a memorandum of the fact.

`I keep them to sell,' the Hatter added as an explanation; `I've none of my own. I'm a hatter.'

Here the Queen put on her spectacles, and began staring at the Hatter, who turned pale and fidgeted.

`Give your evidence,' said the King; `and don't be nervous, or I'll have you executed on the spot.'

This did not seem to encourage the witness at all: he kept shifting from one foot to the other, looking uneasily at the Queen, and in his confusion he bit a large piece out of his teacup instead of the bread-and-butter.

Just at this moment Alice felt a very curious sensation, which puzzled her a good deal until she made out what it was: she was beginning to grow larger again, and she thought at first she would get up and leave the court; but on second thoughts she decided to remain where she was as long as there was room for her.

`I wish you wouldn't squeeze so.' said the Dormouse, who was sitting next to her. `I can hardly breathe.'

`I can't help it,' said Alice very meekly: `I'm growing.'

`You've no right to grow here,' said the Dormouse.

`Don't talk nonsense,' said Alice more boldly: `you know you're growing too.'

`Yes, but I grow at a reasonable pace,' said the Dormouse: `not in that ridiculous fashion.' And he got up very sulkily and crossed over to the other side of the court.

All this time the Queen had never left off staring at the Hatter, and, just as the Dormouse crossed the court, she said to one of the officers of the court, `Bring me the list of the singers in the last concert!' on which the wretched Hatter trembled so, that he shook both his shoes off.

`Give your evidence,' the King repeated angrily, `or I'll have you executed, whether you're nervous or not.'

`I'm a poor man, your Majesty,' the Hatter began, in a trembling voice, `--and I hadn't begun my tea--not above a week or so--and what with the bread-and-butter getting so thin--and the twinkling of the tea--'

`The twinkling of the what?' said the King.

`It began with the tea,' the Hatter replied.

`Of course twinkling begins with a T!' said the King sharply. `Do you take me for a dunce? Go on!'

`I'm a poor man,' the Hatter went on, `and most things twinkled after that--only the March Hare said--'

`I didn't!' the March Hare interrupted in a great hurry.

`You did!' said the Hatter.

`I deny it!' said the March Hare.

`He denies it,' said the King: `leave out that part.'

`Well, at any rate, the Dormouse said--' the Hatter went on, looking anxiously round to see if he would deny it too: but the Dormouse denied nothing, being fast asleep.

`After that,' continued the Hatter, `I cut some more bread-and-butter--'

`But what did the Dormouse say?' one of the jury asked.

`That I can't remember,' said the Hatter.

`You must remember,' remarked the King, `or I'll have you executed.'

The miserable Hatter dropped his teacup and bread-and-butter, and went down on one knee. `I'm a poor man, your Majesty,' he began.

`You're a very poor speaker,' said the King.

Here one of the guinea-pigs cheered, and was immediately suppressed by the officers of the court. (As that is rather a hard word, I will just explain to you how it was done. They had a large canvas bag, which tied up at the mouth with strings: into this they slipped the guinea-pig, head first, and then sat upon it.)

`I'm glad I've seen that done,' thought Alice. `I've so often read in the newspapers, at the end of trials, "There was some attempts at applause, which was immediately suppressed by the officers of the court," and I never understood what it meant till now.'

`If that's all you know about it, you may stand down,' continued the King.

`I can't go no lower,' said the Hatter: `I'm on the floor, as it is.'

`Then you may sit down,' the King replied.

Here the other guinea-pig cheered, and was suppressed.

`Come, that finished the guinea-pigs!' thought Alice. `Now we shall get on better.'

`I'd rather finish my tea,' said the Hatter, with an anxious look at the Queen, who was reading the list of singers.

`You may go,' said the King, and the Hatter hurriedly left the court, without even waiting to put his shoes on.

`--and just take his head off outside,' the Queen added to one of the officers: but the Hatter was out of sight before the officer could get to the door.

`Call the next witness!' said the King.

The next witness was the Duchess's cook. She carried the pepper-box in her hand, and Alice guessed who it was, even before she got into the court, by the way the people near the door began sneezing all at once.

`Give your evidence,' said the King.

`Shan't,' said the cook.

The King looked anxiously at the White Rabbit, who said in a low voice, `Your Majesty must cross-examine this witness.'

`Well, if I must, I must,' the King said, with a melancholy air, and, after folding his arms and frowning at the cook till his eyes were nearly out of sight, he said in a deep voice, `What are tarts made of?'

`Pepper, mostly,' said the cook.

`Treacle,' said a sleepy voice behind her.

`Collar that Dormouse,' the Queen shrieked out. `Behead that Dormouse! Turn that Dormouse out of court! Suppress him! Pinch him! Off with his whiskers!'

For some minutes the whole court was in confusion, getting the Dormouse turned out, and, by the time they had settled down again, the cook had disappeared.

`Never mind!' said the King, with an air of great relief. `Call the next witness.' And he added in an undertone to the Queen, `Really, my dear, you must cross-examine the next witness. It quite makes my forehead ache!'

Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over the list, feeling very curious to see what the next witness would be like, `--for they haven't got much evidence yet ,' she said to herself. Imagine her surprise, when the White Rabbit read out, at the top of his shrill little voice, the name `Alice!'

CHAPTER XII

Alice's Evidence

`Here!' cried Alice, quite forgetting in the flurry of the moment how large she had grown in the last few minutes, and she jumped up in such a hurry that she tipped over the jury-box with the edge of her skirt, upsetting all the jurymen on to the heads of the crowd below, and there they lay sprawling about, reminding her very much of a globe of goldfish she had accidentally upset the week before.

`Oh, I beg your pardon!' she exclaimed in a tone of great dismay, and began picking them up again as quickly as she could, for the accident of the goldfish kept running in her head, and she had a vague sort of idea that they must be collected at once and put back into the jury-box, or they would die.

`The trial cannot proceed,' said the King in a very grave voice, `until all the jurymen are back in their proper places-- all ,' he repeated with great emphasis, looking hard at Alice as he said do.

Alice looked at the jury-box, and saw that, in her haste, she had put the Lizard in head downwards, and the poor little thing was waving its tail about in a melancholy way, being quite unable to move. She soon got it out again, and put it right; `not that it signifies much,' she said to herself; `I should think it would be quite as much use in the trial one way up as the other.'

As soon as the jury had a little recovered from the shock of being upset, and their slates and pencils had been found and handed back to them, they set to work very diligently to write out a history of the accident, all except the Lizard, who seemed too much overcome to do anything but sit with its mouth open, gazing up into the roof of the court.

`What do you know about this business?' the King said to Alice.

`Nothing,' said Alice.

`Nothing whatever ?' persisted the King.

`Nothing whatever,' said Alice.

`That's very important,' the King said, turning to the jury. They were just beginning to write this down on their slates, when the White Rabbit interrupted: `Un important, your Majesty means, of course,' he said in a very respectful tone, but frowning and making faces at him as he spoke.

`Un important, of course, I meant,' the King hastily said, and went on to himself in an undertone, `important--unimportant-- unimportant--important--' as if he were trying which word sounded best.

Some of the jury wrote it down `important,' and some `unimportant.' Alice could see this, as she was near enough to look over their slates; `but it doesn't matter a bit,' she thought to herself.

At this moment the King, who had been for some time busily writing in his note-book, cackled out `Silence!' and read out from his book, `Rule Forty-two. All persons more than a mile high to leave the court .'

Everybody looked at Alice.

`I'm not a mile high,' said Alice.

`You are,' said the King.

`Nearly two miles high,' added the Queen.

`Well, I shan't go, at any rate,' said Alice: `besides, that's not a regular rule: you invented it just now.'

`It's the oldest rule in the book,' said the King.

`Then it ought to be Number One,' said Alice.

The King turned pale, and shut his note-book hastily. `Consider your verdict,' he said to the jury, in a low, trembling voice.

`There's more evidence to come yet, please your Majesty,' said the White Rabbit, jumping up in a great hurry; `this paper has just been picked up.'

`What's in it?' said the Queen.

`I haven't opened it yet,' said the White Rabbit, `but it seems to be a letter, written by the prisoner to--to somebody.'

`It must have been that,' said the King, `unless it was written to nobody, which isn't usual, you know.'

`Who is it directed to?' said one of the jurymen.

`It isn't directed at all,' said the White Rabbit; `in fact, there's nothing written on the outside .' He unfolded the paper as he spoke, and added `It isn't a letter, after all: it's a set of verses.'

`Are they in the prisoner's handwriting?' asked another of they jurymen.

`No, they're not,' said the White Rabbit, `and that's the queerest thing about it.' (The jury all looked puzzled.)

`He must have imitated somebody else's hand,' said the King. (The jury all brightened up again.)

`Please your Majesty,' said the Knave, `I didn't write it, and they can't prove I did: there's no name signed at the end.'

`If you didn't sign it,' said the King, `that only makes the matter worse. You must have meant some mischief, or else you'd have signed your name like an honest man.'

There was a general clapping of hands at this: it was the first really clever thing the King had said that day.

`That proves his guilt,' said the Queen.

`It proves nothing of the sort!' said Alice. `Why, you don't even know what they're about!'

`Read them,' said the King.

The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. `Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?' he asked.

`Begin at the beginning,' the King said gravely, `and go on till you come to the end: then stop.'

These were the verses the White Rabbit read:--

`That's the most important piece of evidence we've heard yet,' said the King, rubbing his hands; `so now let the jury--'

`If any one of them can explain it,' said Alice, (she had grown so large in the last few minutes that she wasn't a bit afraid of interrupting him,) `I'll give him sixpence. I don't believe there's an atom of meaning in it.'

The jury all wrote down on their slates, `She doesn't believe there's an atom of meaning in it,' but none of them attempted to explain the paper.

`If there's no meaning in it,' said the King, `that saves a world of trouble, you know, as we needn't try to find any. And yet I don't know,' he went on, spreading out the verses on his knee, and looking at them with one eye; `I seem to see some meaning in them, after all. "--Said I could not swim --" you can't swim, can you?' he added, turning to the Knave.

The Knave shook his head sadly. `Do I look like it?' he said. (Which he certainly did NOT, being made entirely of cardboard.)

`All right, so far,' said the King, and he went on muttering over the verses to himself: `"We know it to be true --" that's the jury, of course-- "I gave her one, they gave him two --" why, that must be what he did with the tarts, you know--'

`But, it goes on "They all returned from him to you ,"' said Alice.

`Why, there they are!' said the King triumphantly, pointing to the tarts on the table. `Nothing can be clearer than that . Then again--"Before she had this fit --" you never had fits, my dear, I think?' he said to the Queen.

`Never!' said the Queen furiously, throwing an inkstand at the Lizard as she spoke. (The unfortunate little Bill had left off writing on his slate with one finger, as he found it made no mark; but he now hastily began again, using the ink, that was trickling down his face, as long as it lasted.)

`Then the words don't fit you,' said the King, looking round the court with a smile. There was a dead silence.

`It's a pun!' the King added in an offended tone, and everybody laughed, `Let the jury consider their verdict,' the King said, for about the twentieth time that day.

`No, no!' said the Queen. `Sentence first--verdict afterwards.'

`Stuff and nonsense!' said Alice loudly. `The idea of having the sentence first!'

`Hold your tongue!' said the Queen, turning purple.

`I won't!' said Alice.

`Off with her head!' the Queen shouted at the top of her voice. Nobody moved.

`Who cares for you?' said Alice, (she had grown to her full size by this time.) `You're nothing but a pack of cards!'

At this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came flying down upon her: she gave a little scream, half of fright and half of anger, and tried to beat them off, and found herself lying on the bank, with her head in the lap of her sister, who was gently brushing away some dead leaves that had fluttered down from the trees upon her face.

`Wake up, Alice dear!' said her sister; `Why, what a long sleep you've had!'

`Oh, I've had such a curious dream!' said Alice, and she told her sister, as well as she could remember them, all these strange Adventures of hers that you have just been reading about; and when she had finished, her sister kissed her, and said, `It was a curious dream, dear, certainly: but now run in to your tea; it's getting late.' So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been.

But her sister sat still just as she left her, leaning her head on her hand, watching the setting sun, and thinking of little Alice and all her wonderful Adventures, till she too began dreaming after a fashion, and this was her dream:--

First, she dreamed of little Alice herself, and once again the tiny hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes were looking up into hers--she could hear the very tones of her voice, and see that queer little toss of her head to keep back the wandering hair that would always get into her eyes--and still as she listened, or seemed to listen, the whole place around her became alive the strange creatures of her little sister's dream.

The long grass rustled at her feet as the White Rabbit hurried by--the frightened Mouse splashed his way through the neighbouring pool--she could hear the rattle of the teacups as the March Hare and his friends shared their never-ending meal, and the shrill voice of the Queen ordering off her unfortunate guests to execution--once more the pig-baby was sneezing on the Duchess's knee, while plates and dishes crashed around it--once more the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard's slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea-pigs, filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable Mock Turtle.

So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality--the grass would be only rustling in the wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the reeds--the rattling teacups would change to tinkling sheep-bells, and the Queen's shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd boy--and the sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, and all thy other queer noises, would change (she knew) to the confused clamour of the busy farm-yard--while the lowing of the cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle's heavy sobs.

Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.

8. методика проведения контрольных мероприятий

Курс «Теория и Практика перевода» является составной частью программы обучения иностранному языку студентов филологических специальностей и связан со смежными курсами государственного образовательного стандарта: «Практическая грамматика английского языка», «Аналитическое чтение», «Стилистика английского языка» и другими предметами.

Данный курс нацелен на ознакомление студентов с основами переводческой деятельности, а также на формирование навыков перевода письменного и устного, как синхронного, так и подготовленного. Специфика курса заключается в приоритете практической тренировки переводческих навыков с английского языка на русский. Основной упор делается на способность студентов работать самостоятельно, уметь пользоваться справочной литературой, словарями (англо-русскими, англо-английскими) и средствами Интернет.

Языковая подготовка студентов предполагает обучение в течение 500 часов и реализуется в следующих формах занятий:

- лекционные занятия

- аудиторные групповые занятия под руководством преподавателя ;

- самостоятельная работа студента по заданию преподавателя, выполняемая во внеаудиторное время, в том числе с использованием технических средств обучения и индивидуальная самостоятельная работа студента под руководством преподавателя.

Курс рассчитан на 6 аудиторных занятий, 6 из которых – лекции, на которых преподаватель тезисно проводит обзор выносимых на обсуждение вопросов теории перевода.

Занятия по дисциплине должны быть преимущественно проблемными. В связи с этим рекомендуется применение различных методов обучения: свободное устное изложение, диктовка наиболее сложных для восприятия вопросов, формулировок; рекомендуется применение наглядных пособий.

Необходимо, чтобы студенты имели навыки работы со словарями и справочными изданиями, умели ориентироваться в жанровом своеобразии текста и адекватно его переводить на русский язык.

В конце курса студентам предлагается небольшой тест, который направлен не только на проверку знаний по пройденным темам, но и на стимулирование учащихся к самостоятельной оценке переводческой деятельности как процесса, требующего профессиональных знаний и умений.

Курс завершается сдачей зачета, который проводится по билетам, содержащим 3 вопроса теоретического характера по изученному материалу и один вопрос практического плана: студентам предлагается осуществить перевод предложений или небольших текстов, которые содержат сложные для адекватной передачи смысла моменты. Студент должен суметь не только изложить грамотно и логично теоретический вопрос, но и представить литературный перевод практического задания, объяснив выбранные им приемы и стратегию перевода. Допуском к зачету является выполнение следующих требований:

1. посещение занятий

2. работа на практических занятиях

3. письменный перевод художественного текста.

8.1.МЕТОДИКА ПРОВЕДЕНИЯ СРЕЗОВОЙ КОНТРОЛЬНОЙ РАБОТЫ

Контрольная работа состоит из нескольких упражнений по пройденным темам и разделам. В основном в основе данных упражнений лежит перевод. Задания для контрольной работы представлены ниже.

Упражнение 1: Выделите в тексте единицы, подлежащие либо транскрипции, либо калькированию, либо смешанному переводу и переведите текст.

The main body of the Salish, from whom the Bella Coola have become separated, occupy a large and continuous area in southern British Columbia and the Western portion of the State of Washington. They also occupy the eastern part of Vancouver Island, south of Cape Mudge, and the southern end of the Island around Victoria. On the mainland of British Columbia and the state of Washington the boundaries are less definite. Salish-speaking peoples live along the Frazer River and occupy its large tributary, the Thompson River. These interiour Salish tribes, the Thompson, Lillooet, and Shuswap, have never been considered as possessing the culture of the coast peoples since their houses, dress, food, religion, and art, are quite different not only from those of the Northwest Coast, but from their other neighbours as well.

Упражнение 2: Выделенные курсивом элементы текста подлежат смешанному переводу с использованием транскрипции и калькирования: определите, какие из них требуют процедуры свертывания/развертывания. Переведите текст .

Potlatch

The word "potlatch" comes from the Chinook /argon and originally meant "to give". In its common use among the white people and the natives of the Northwest Coast it has taken on a very general meaning and> applied to any Indian festival at which there is feasting, or, in connection with which property is given away. Because of this loose and general meaning there necessarily exists a good deal of confusion as to what is meant by the term. From the Indian's viewpoint many different things are meant when he uses the Chinook word in speaking to white people, for it is the only word intelligible to them by means of which he can refer to a considerable number of ceremonies or festivals each having its own Indian name.

Упражнение З: Определите в тексте термины и терминологические обороты, которые подлежат калькированию. Сравните полученные кальки с возможными транскрипциями. Прокомментируйте различия между ними и стилистический статус их употребления в тексте перевода. Переведите текст .

After my April visit I was so impressed by the Great Pyramid that I spent several weeks researching its history. I discovered that it had been ben built around 2250 BC for Kufu (or Cheops), the second Pharaoh of the Fourth Dynasty, and that it was also the single largest edifice ever constructed by man. As I researched the subject further it became clear to me that the real purpose of the Great Pyramid was, in fact, a matter of considerable debate. On one side stood the most orthodox and prosaic scholars insisting that it was nothing more than a mausoleum. On the other side stood the pyrami-dologists -- an apocalyptic tribe who pretended to find all manner of prophecies and signs in virtually every dimension of the immense structure. I then learned that a team of Japanese engineers had recently tried to build a 35-feet high replica of the Great Pyramid limiting itself strictly to the techniques of the Fourth Dynasty (as proved by archeology), which construction turned out to be impossible under these limitations.

Упражнение 4: Проследите, как меняется структура выделенных курсивом языковых единиц под воздействием перевода способом калькирования. Прокомментируйте причины изменений , предложите различные варианты таких калек .

When-the Nazis invaded the Soviet Union in 1941, Hitler's orders were to obliterate every trace of Russian culture. German armies systematically torched and pillaged museums, libraries, and other artistic treasures. During the nine-hundred-day siege of Leningrad, the Nazis used Pavlovsk as a military headquarters. They looted and destroyed whatever they found, cut down seventy thousand trees in the park, and, when they were forced to retreat, burned the peiace beyond recognition. But just before the siege, the Russians managed to evacuate thousands ofobjets d'art -- paintings, rare furniture, clocks, porcelain, chandeliers -- and hide them in Leningrad and Siberia. Barely recovered from the horrors of the siege, and while the war was still being waged, a group of dedicated museum specialists, helped by thousands of citizens, determined to restore Pavlovsk to its original splendour. Scores of young Russians were recruited to leam and re-create the eighteenth-century craftsmanship found in every aspect of Pavlovsk's interior.

Упражнение 5: Переведите на английский язык выделенные словосочетания, используя прием калькирования. Проследите, какие свойства исходных единиц трансформируются под влиянием калькирования. Как можно сформулировать общее правило калькирования для данных единиц?

Геополитические концепции давно стали важнейшими факторами современной политики. Они строятся на общих принципах, позволяющих легко проанализировать ситуацию любой отдельной страны и любого отдельного региона.

Два изначальных понятия в геополитике -- суша и море. Именно эти две стихии -- Земля и Вода -- лежат в основе представления человека о земном пространстве. В переживании суши и моря, земли и воды человек входит в контакт с фундаментальными аспектами своего существования. Суша -- это стабильность, плотность, устойчивость, пространство как таковое. Вода -- это подвижность, мягкость, динамика, время. На уровне глобальных геополитических феноменов Суша и Море породили термины: талассократия и теллурократия, то есть "могущество посредством моря" и "могущество посредством суши".

Всякое государство, всякая империя основывает свою силу на предпочтительном развитии одной из этих категорий. Первое предполагает наличие метрополии и колоний, второе -- столицу и провинции на "общей суше". Однако вроде бы простая схема этого разделения сразу же усложняется при наложении элементов: пара "земля -- море" дает идеи "морской земли" (островная геополитика) и "земной воды" (речная геополитика). При этом статус Острова или Континента определяется не столько на основании их географической величины, сколько на основании специфики типичного сознания населения. Так, геополитика США носит островной характер, несмотря на размеры Северой Америки, а Япония геополитически представляет собой пример континентального менталитета.

8.2. примерные вопросы к зачету по курсу «лингвострановедение и страноведение великобритании»

- Методы, используемые в переводоведческой практике.

- Пословный перевод (дефиниция, пример).

- Дословный перевод (дефиниция, пример).

- Литературный перевод (дефиниция, пример).

- Адаптивное транскодирование.

- Переводы, выделяемые по соотношению типов языка перевода и языка оригинала.

- Переводы, выполняемые по общей характеристике субъекта переводческой деятельности и по его отношению к автору переводимого текста.

- Переводы, выполняемые по типу переводческой сегментации текста и по используемым единицам перевода.

- Переводы, выделяемые по признаку формы презентации текста перевода и текста оригинала.

- Переводы, выделяемые по признаку характера и качества соответствия текста переводу оригинала.

- Переводы, выделяемые признаку жанрово-синтаксической характеристики переводимого материала и жанровой принадлежности.

- Переводы, выделяемые по признакам полноты и способа передачи смыслового содержания оригинала.

- Переводы, выполняемые по признаку основной прагматической функции.

- Переводы, выделяемые по признаку первичности/непервичности текста оригинала.

- Переводы, выделяемые по типу адекватности.

- Эквивалентность перевода.

- Дать определение понятию «синонимическая конструкция».

- Особенности научно-технического стиля.

- Особенности выполнения полного письменного перевода деловых документов.

- Особенности газетно-информационного стиля.

- Лексико-грамматическия специфика газетных заголовков.

- Лексико-грамматические трансформации.

учебные материалы для выполнения СРС - учебно-методическое пособие «ТЕОРИЯ И ПРАКТИКА ПЕРЕВОДА» разработаннЫ спеЦиально для студентов ОЗО к.ф.н., СТАРШИМ ПРЕПОДАВАТЕЛЕМ КАФЕДРЫ аЯ И МПАЯ ФоМИНОЙ Н.В.

[1] Развернутые планы семинарских занятий представлены в УМК «Теория и практика перевода»

[2]