A Mad Tea-Party

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter seven of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter seven,
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

(00:23):
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

(00:44):
they saw Alice coming. There's plenty of rooms, 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,

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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

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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

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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 loud. 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,

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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.

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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

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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

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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.

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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,

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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,

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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

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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,

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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

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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

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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

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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,

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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 quarreled last March, just before
he went mad, you know, pointing with his teaspoon at
the march Hare. It was at the great concert given

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by the Queen of Hearts, and I had to sing
Twinkle twinkle little back. How I wonder what you're at,
you know the song? Perhaps I've heard something like it,
said Alice. It goes on, you know, the hatter continued,
in this way, up above the world, you fly like
a tea tray in the sky. Twinkle twinkle. Here the

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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

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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,

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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

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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

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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

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dormouse began in a great hurry, and their names were Elsie, Lazy,
and Tilly, 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

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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 way 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,

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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

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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

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the hatter and the march hare went ssh 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,

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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

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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

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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 a
treacle out of a treacle well. A stupid But they

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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

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was getting very sleepy, and they drew all manner of things,
everything that begins with an em. Why with an em?
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

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by the hatter, it woke up again with a little
shriek and went on that begins with an EM, 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,

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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

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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

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very curious, she thought, But everything's curious to day. 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

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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. End

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of chapter seven, read by Kara Shallenberg, March two thousand
ten in San Diego, California,