Chapter II

Mackintosh and Mystery

Alice carefully closed the door behind her (she always made sure to leave things just as she had found them) and looked around, to find that she was standing in a little wood. It seemed to be the middle of winter, for it was snowing heavily, and there was no sun at all. Luckily, Alice had come to be wearing mittens and a shawl, and a large pair of wool-lined boots, so she did not feel the slightest bit cold. "However," she said to herself, "one can still catch a chill if one is not careful." So she pulled the shawl tighter around her, and ran through the crisp, deepening snow to see what she would find.

     It was not long before she came to a clearing, in which stood a very strange contraption indeed. It had two little seats, each hanging from an arm which was attached to a large pole. At first, Alice thought that it was a swing-boat of some kind, for it did, in some ways, swing back and forth. However, it also rose and fell at regular intervals, just as would a see-saw; and it had the annoying habit of whirling in circles like a merry-go-round when the girl least expected it, making her quite giddy.

     "I do believe," she said at length, "that it must be a set of scales. But I wonder what it weighs?" However, she did not have long to wait to find out, for in the blink of an eye the seats were filled.

Before Alice knew what had happened a man1 had come to be sitting in the right-hand chair. He was wearing a long robe, and a heavy gold chain (almost bending his thin body in two under it’s weight) which immediately identified him as a Reeve. In the other chair there had appeared an even thinner creature: a Butterfly, whose beautiful, translucent wings were flapping slightly in the breeze. Now that the seats were filled, the scales started to move back and forth even more than they had before; however, the two creatures seemed perfectly capable of maintaining their balance.

     "Hallo," said the Butterfly cheerfully. "Would you like some grass?"

     "I’m sorry?" Alice asked, not at all sure what the creature could have meant.

     "Grass," replied the Reeve. "It’s green, you see, and it grows on the ground. We cut it. It’s what we do best."

     "Only," the Butterfly continued, "this snow seems to have got in the way. We only have a little grass left now; but you may take some, if you wish." And she bounced herself in the seat, making the scales bob up and down so that the Reeve had to hang on for all he was worth.

     "I think they must be gardeners in their spare time," Alice said to herself; but she could not think of any reason she would wish to take some grass, so she politely shook her head, and waited to see what they would do next.

     "Suit yourself," the Reeve said. "It would have taken till a week next Moanday to get it to you anyway, what with the current situation." Here he brought out a little notebook, and began to scribble notes to himself. (Alice assumed that he was writing about the currants.)

     "Aren’t you cold, child?" the Butterfly asked suddenly. "You look as though you should be cold. Why, you’re probably frozen."

     "‘Many are Cold, but Few are Frozen,"’ the Reeve interrupted, before Alice could reply. "That’s a saying, you know, and twice as true as cheese."

     "Are you looking for something, then?" the Butterfly enquired in a kindly voice (though she peered over the top of her spectacles in a most gruesome way as she spoke).

     "Why, yes." Alice replied. "I was following the White Rabbit, for it was in ever such a to-do. Only, I seemed to lose sight of it. You haven’t seen it, have you?"

     "We may have done," the Reeve said, looking up. "Who wants to know?" But the Butterfly tapped him kindly on the arm, and said to Alice: "It passed this way only a few moments ago. It seemed to be looking for something, and it was terribly agitated, so we all sat down, and meditated, and massaged each other."

     "But when we’d finished," the Reeve interjected, "the Rabbit had disappeared. The creature is so impolite!"

     "That it is," Alice readily agreed. "But could you please tell me where it might have gone."

     "Well," said the Butterfly, "if I were it, or it were me, or we were both each other, then I should go look for some refreshment."

     "Yes! That’s it!" the Reeve cried excitedly, and he shook so much that the scales nearly collapsed. "It has gone to the Refreshment Booth to find a carrot juice, no doubt."

     "Well!" said Alice. "That is no help at all! Where would one find a Refreshment Booth, I should like to know?" But before she had a chance to ask any more annoying questions there was a loud ‘pop,’ and the scales and the Reeve and Butterfly all vanished in a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke, just as suddenly as they had arrived. The snow started to melt, and the sun began shining, and in less than no time it was spring. Alice found herself standing in a little country lane, bordered by a hedgerow hung with My-Lady’s-Whispers, wild daffodils and crocuses growing at its foot. In front of her the lane wound left and right, and then straight up a hill to a small booth, just as the Reeve had said. Alice ran straight up to it.

     It was a tiny kiosk, painted lime green and apparently closed, for the window was shut over with a large wooden panel. On it, Alice saw a notice which read:

And underneath were the words:

Alice did not feel at all sure that she should knock, in case she disturbed whoever was behind the window. However, the journey that far had made her very thirsty, and she did so want to find the Rabbit; so she eventually raised a timid hand to the panel, and gave a little tap.

Immediately the window flew up, and Alice found herself face to face with a small, ginger cat2 wearing a scarf. At first Alice thought she was making the acquaintance of the Cheshire Cat once again; but then she saw that the creature’s smile was in no way so broad.

     "What do you want?" snapped the cat, glaring at Alice.

     "I’m sorry," the girl replied, feeling sure that she had disturbed its luncheon. "But I’m dreadfully thirsty, and I was hoping your kiosk sold . . ."

     "If I’d known that," the cat interrupted, without waiting a moment to hear what Alice had been told, "I would not have worn these shoes." And with that it slammed the window shut.

     "Well, really!" thought Alice, and she rapped her knuckles against the window again. It flew open once more, and the cat repeated, "What do you want? What do you want?"

     "If it please you," asked Alice, "could I have something to . . ?" But again, the cat interrupted her.

     "If I’d known that," it said, "I should never even have bought these shoes in the first place!" This time, however, it did not slam the window closed, but instead glowered at Alice intently. The girl took the opportunity to peek over the window sill, to find why the cat’s shoes were such a problem; but all that revealed were a perfectly ordinary pair of paws, leaving Alice to think: "Why, it’s not a Cheshire Puss so much as a Sour Puss. All it does is complain, and about problems it does not have, at that!"

     Out loud, she declared "if you please, puss, I should like something to drink," and she said this all in one breath, so quickly that the cat did not have time to interrupt. However, it merely pursed its lips into a tight little knot, and dropped something roughly onto the counter before slamming the window shut again. It was a small phial with a cork stopper, containing a bright orange liquid, and on its side was attached a label bearing the words ‘READ ME.’3

     "Curious and more curious still," said Alice4 (and she complemented herself for remembering her grammar lessons so well). "I wonder what it could contain? And how can one read its contents, I should like to know?

     "In all probability," she continued, "it will make me smaller or taller, should I drink it." Alice considered herself to be quite an expert in the field of size changing now, and felt she would think nothing of telescoping up to the size of any elephant, or down to the size of a thimble. However, she was still not entirely sure of the phial, and felt it best to forego any possible change in stature for the present moment. "After all," she mused, "one never knows when one may wish to grow in some direction or another. And, anyway, there is hardly enough there to quench the thirst of a mouse, poor thing! All in all, I think it best to simply keep the phial in Case of Emergency." (Alice was not entirely sure what a Case of Emergency would look like, or even if it would have enough room to hold the phial when she found it, but she decided she would keep it in any case.)

     The girl looked around, to see if she could spy the White Rabbit off in the distance, or at least, anything that might help her find it. Over on the horizon she could see the ocean glistening in the warm light, and on the cliff tops above it a familiar ruin. Similarly, at the bottom of the hill Alice could see a lake she was sure she had seen before, and beyond it . . .

     "The house! The house!" the girl cried in delight. "That queer little house I saw through the window." She looked back to the cliff tops. "And that ruin, why, I saw that too. And also the lake - I have managed to pass through the windows after all!"

     However, now Alice found herself in a quandary. "Oh dear," she said, "I wonder which the White Rabbit has gone to? I simply must find it." (For, having come so far past the stage door, she was determined to complete her mission.) She decided to give the cat one last try - "After all," she said to bolster herself to the task, "I am still very thirsty" - so she raised her hand to the window to knock a third time, and drew in a deep breath. But just as she was about to knock on the window it rattled open, and before she could say "Please - could - I - have - a - drink - of - water - and - have - you - seen - the - White - Rabbit - thank - you?" (as she had been planning), the cat, still glaring, stuck its head through.

     "Are you still here?" it said. "What do you want? What do you want?"

     Alice opened her mouth to ask her question, but before she could utter a word the cat said, "If I had known you were going to still be here, I’d have bought myself s new pair!" But, instead of slamming the door shut, it took the phial from Alice’s hand and poured the contents into a glass of water, which it returned to the girl. It closed the window, more gently this time, all the while muttering "always working," and "they all need me to take care of them," and "never enough shoes to go round."

     "That is by far the most impudent cat I have ever met," Alice declared, and she would have thrown the glass of coloured water away there and then, if she had not been so dreadfully thirsty. As it was, however, she simply drank it down in one gulp and waited to see whether she would shrink or grow.

"How very odd," Alice said when she had taken her drink. "No wonder the phial had ‘READ ME’ written on it."

     As she swallowed the liquid, words and pictures floated before her eyes, almost as if drinking the contents of the phial were the equivalent to the reading of a book. "This is a strange sensation," the girl declared, and she tried her hardest to read the sentences that were flying past. However, the words were all very long and the pictures very boring, as though it were a school book, so that Alice had the greatest difficulty making head and tail of it.

     It seemed, at first, to be a description of how to make rubber from limpets’ feet; then there followed a treatise on the advantages and disadvantages of wine sauce in steam engines; and lastly, as far as Alice could make out, it told a cold and windy tale about a Swiss potato mountain. It was all very strange, and the girl was beginning to feel somewhat dizzy from everything that she had imbibed, when the stream of words came to a sudden end. "Oh, my!" Alice exclaimed, and she had to sit on the grass and close her eyes in order to recover from the effects. "I wonder if ‘READ ME’ phials are always so confusing?"

     She was just wondering whether to get up and continue her search, or whether it might not be a better idea to sit back and rest for a few moments, when a familiar voice made up her mind for her.

     "Mary-Jane, Mary-Jane, there you are." It was, at long last, the White Rabbit, although much to Alice’s annoyance it had once again mistaken her for one of its housemaids. "Honestly," she thought to herself. "It is bad enough once to be thought Mary-Ann, but to be taken for Mary-Jane too is enough to make one insensed!"

     Alice stood up to admonish the creature. Just as she had seen it earlier, the Rabbit was wearing a rain-coat tied round with its belt. The mackintosh was looking rather shabby, and indeed the Rabbit itself looked as though it had seen better days. It was still in a state of great agitation, and Alice could see that, from its waistcoat, a chain hung loose.

     "Mary-Jane, there has been such a to-do," the creature said, before Alice could get a word in edgewise. "My watch, my lovely pocket watch! Why, it has gone missing. Oh, and I need it so," it went on. "If someone were to ask me the time in England I should be able to tell them; but to know the time here and now, that is the problem I have to face!" And it did a little, worried dance and scampered around Alice, as if to ask her what she was going to do about it.

     "Please, sir," enquired the girl, "if this is not England, then where exactly would it be?"

     "Don’t be impertinent, girl," the Rabbit replied. "I merely said that if someone were to ask me the time in England, I should be able to answer."

     "And what time would you tell them?" Alice asked.

     "Why, exactly seventeen minutes past seven, and seven seconds," the Rabbit answered in surprise5. "As if that isn’t always the time in England! Indeed!"

     Alice was not entirely sure how to answer this, so she merely curtseyed and smiled, and waited for whatever the Rabbit would say next. However, it ignored her completely and started its little irritated dance once more, so that it would jump up and down and scurry back and forth, until it suddenly threw itself to the ground.

     "Bless my whiskers," it cried. "A carrot! I thought I saw a carrot, there on the ground." But when it stood again there was nothing to be seen. The creature turned to Alice and said, "It looked so nice, and now that has disappeared as well. This is just too much, Mary-Jane." And it sat on the ground once more, its head in its hands, and started to whimper.

     "Whatever shall I do without my pocket watch?" it asked the girl. "I simply do not know how I shall cope." Alice knelt down beside the poor pathetic creature and put an arm around its shoulders. "There there," she said, "there’s no need to carry on so. I am sure we can find your watch."

     Alice put a finger to her chin and pondered a moment, before asking: "Where do you think you last had it?" This was what she was always asked when she had lost something, and while she was not sure that it was at all helpful, she felt there must be some reason for asking it.

     "Goodness, Mary-Jane, I’m sure I don’t know," the Rabbit replied. "If I knew that, why, then the thing would not be lost!" (And the girl could not argue with this, since it was the answer that she always gave in such circumstances.)

     The Rabbit suddenly stood up and started to pace up and down, muttering to itself under its breath: ". . . must have been stolen . . . who could have taken . . . someone must find . . ." Then it abruptly turned around to face Alice.

     "Mary-Jane," it decided (and by this stage Alice had become quite used to being addressed in such a fashion), "Mary-Jane, you must find my watch for me."

     Alice curtseyed again, glad that the Rabbit was no longer so upset, but slightly worried at the turn of events. "If it please you, I should be only too happy to help, but I am not sure . . ."

     "Good," said the Rabbit, "that’s settled then. I suggest that you start your search over that-a-way," and it waved one of its feet vaguely in the direction of the lake. "I shall expect you to have returned it by, shall we say" - and here the Rabbit looked the end of its watch chain, as if for old times’ sake - "shall we say, seventeen minutes past seven, and seven seconds?"

     "I should be glad to help," Alice repeated, "but I am not sure where to look. And I have to be back in my seat very soon!" However, by the time she had finished her sentence the Rabbit had left, dancing its little dance away down the hill.

Chapter I - Through the Stage Door Chapter I - Through the Stage Door | Chapter III - To Hang a Book . . . Chapter III - To Hang a Book . . .