Journeys Through Bookland, Volume 3 | Page 9

so frightened, I couldn't remember my own name!"
Alice thought to herself, "I never should TRY to remember my name in the middle of an accident! Where would be the use of it?" but she did not say this aloud, for fear of hurting the poor Queen's feelings.
"Your Majesty must excuse her," the Red Queen said to Alice, taking one of the White Queen's hands in her own, and gently stroking it: "she means well, but she can't help saying foolish things, as a general rule."
The White Queen looked timidly at Alice, who felt she OUGHT to say something kind, but really couldn't think of anything at the moment.
"She never was really well brought up," the Red Queen went on: "but it's amazing how good-tempered she is! Pat her on the head, and see how pleased she'll be!" But this was more than Alice had courage to do.
"A little kindness--and putting her hair in papers--would do wonders with her--"
The White Queen gave a deep sigh, and laid her head on Alice's shoulder. "I AM so sleepy!" she moaned.
"She's tired, poor thing!" said the Red Queen. "Smooth her hair--lend her your nightcap--and sing her a soothing lullaby."
"I haven't got a nightcap with me," said Alice, as she tried to obey the first direction: "and I don't know any soothing lullabies."
"I must do it myself, then," said the Red Queen, and she began:
"Hush-a-by, lady, in Alice's lap! Till the feast's ready, we've time for a nap: When the feast's over, we'll go to the ball-- Red Queen, and White Queen, and Alice, and all!"
"And now you know the words," she added, as she put her head down on Alice's other shoulder, "just sing it through to ME; I'm getting sleepy, too." In another moment both queens were fast asleep, and snoring loud.
[Illustration: TWO QUEENS ASLEEP AT ONCE]
"What AM I to do?" exclaimed Alice, looking about in great perplexity, as first one round head, and then the other, rolled down from her shoulder, and lay like a heavy lump in her lap. "I don't think it EVER happened before, that any one had to take care of two queens asleep at once! No, not in all the history of England--it couldn't, you know, because there never was more than one queen at a time. Do wake up, you heavy things!" she went on in an impatient tone; but there was no answer but a gentle snoring.

THE LEPRECAUN
By WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
NOTE.--The Leprecaun, or Shoemaker, is one of the solitary fairies of Ireland. He is a little fellow who wears a red coat with seven buttons in each row, and a cocked or pointed hat, on the point of which he often spins round like a top. You may often see him under the hedge mending shoes; where, if you are sharp enough, you may catch him and make him give up the big crocks of gold, of which the little miser has saved many and many. But you must be careful, for if after you have seen him once you take your eyes off him for a single instant, he vanishes into the air like a wreath of smoke.
Little cowboy, what have you heard, Up on the lonely rath's green mound? Only the plaintive yellow-bird Singing in sultry fields around? Chary, chary, chary, chee-e! Only the grasshopper and the bee? "Tip-tap, rip-rap, Tick-a-tack-too! Scarlet leather sewn together, This will make a shoe. Left, right, pull it tight, Summer days are warm; Underground in winter, Laughing at the storm!"
Lay your ear close to the hill: Do you not catch the tiny clamor, Busy click of an elfin hammer, Voice of the Leprecaun singing shrill As he merrily plies his trade? He's a span And a quarter in height; Get him in sight, hold him fast, And you're a made Man!
You watch your cattle the summer day, Sup on potatoes, sleep in the hay; How should you like to roll in your carriage And look for a duchess's daughter in marriage? Seize the shoemaker, so you may! "Big boots a-hunting, Sandals in the hall, White for a wedding feast, And pink for a ball: This way, that way, So we make a shoe, Getting rich every stitch, Tick-tack-too!"
Nine and ninety treasure crocks This keen miser-fairy hath, Hid in mountain, wood and rocks, Ruin and round-tower, cave or rath, And where the cormorants build; From the times of old Guarded by him; Each of them filled Full to the brim With gold!
[Illustration: THIS WAY, THAT WAY, SO WE MAKE A SHOE]
I caught him at work one day myself, In the castle ditch where the foxglove grows, A wrinkled, wizened and bearded elf, Spectacles stuck on the top of his nose, Silver buckles to his hose, Leather apron, shoe in his lap. "Rip-rap, tip-tap, Tick-tack-too!
A grig stepped upon my cap,