TRA LA MIROR
La casa mirorida · La jardin de flores vivente · Insetos mirorida · Rococin e Rococon · Lana e acua · Ovaluna · Leon e Unicorno · “Me mesma ia inventa lo” · Un vespa perucida · Rea Alisia · Luta · Muta · Ci ia fa la sonia?

Mostra ance la testo orijinal

Capitol 3: Insetos mirorida

Chapter III. LOOKING-GLASS INSECTS.

Natural, la taxe prima es fa un jeometre jeneral de la pais tra cual el va viaja. “Esta es multe simil a la studia de jeografia,” Alisia pensa, cuando el sta sur la ditos de sua pedes con la espera de deveni capas de vide a alga plu distante. “Rios xef—on no ave los. Montes xef—me es sur la sola, ma me no crede ce lo ave un nom. Vilas xef—ma cual es acel animales ci produi miel ala a su? Los no pote es abeas—nun es capas de vide abeas a la distantia de un cilometre, tu sabe—” e per alga tempo el sta silente, oservante un de los ci move enerjiosa de asi a ala entre la flores, puietante sua trompa a los, “esata como lo ta es un abea comun,” Alisia pensa.

Of course the first thing to do was to make a grand survey of the country she was going to travel through. “It’s something very like learning geography,” thought Alice, as she stood on tiptoe in hopes of being able to see a little further. “Principal rivers–there are none. Principal mountains–I’m on the only one, but I don’t think it’s got any name. Principal towns–why, what are those creatures, making honey down there? They can’t be bees–nobody ever saw bees a mile off, you know–” and for some time she stood silent, watching one of them that was bustling about among the flowers, poking its proboscis into them, “just as if it was a regular bee,” thought Alice.

An tal, esta es en no modo un abea comun: en fato, lo es un elefante—como Alisia descovre pronto, an si la idea comensa par lasa el cuasi noncapas de respira. “E la flores debe es tan enorme!” es sua idea seguente. “Alga simil a casetas de cual on ia sutrae la tetos e a cual on ia ajunta troncetas—e los debe produi miel en cuantias tan grande! Me opina ce me va desende e—no, me va resta per ancora un momento,” el continua, parante se a la punto de comensa core en desende de la colina, e atentante trova un escusa per sua timidi tan subita. “Lo no va conveni ce me desende entre los sin un bon ramo longa per scopi los a via—e lo va es tan divertinte cuando on demanda a me esce me ia gusta mea pasea. Me va dise—‘O! lo ia plase sufisinte—’” (aora el fa la secute favoreda e peti de sua testa), “‘ma lo ia es tan polvosa e calda, e la elefantes ia es tan provocante!’”

However, this was anything but a regular bee: in fact it was an elephant–as Alice soon found out, though the idea quite took her breath away at first. “And what enormous flowers they must be!” was her next idea. “Something like cottages with the roofs taken off, and stalks put to them–and what quantities of honey they must make! I think I’ll go down and–no, I won’t just yet,” she went on, checking herself just as she was beginning to run down the hill, and trying to find some excuse for turning shy so suddenly. “It’ll never do to go down among them without a good long branch to brush them away–and what fun it’ll be when they ask me how I liked my walk. I shall say–‘Oh, I liked it well enough–’” (here came the favourite little toss of the head), “‘only it was so dusty and hot, and the elephants did tease so!’”

“Me crede ce me va desende en la otra dirije,” el dise pos un pausa: “e cisa me va visita plu tarda la elefantes. Plu, me desira tan ariva a la Cuadro Tre!”

“I think I’ll go down the other way,” she said after a pause: “and perhaps I may visit the elephants later on. Besides, I do so want to get into the Third Square!”

Donce, con esta escusa, el core en desende de la colina, e salta per traversa la prima de la ses rietas peti.

So with this excuse she ran down the hill and jumped over the first of the six little brooks.

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“Biletas, per favore!” la Biletor dise, introduinte sua testa tra la fenetra. Pos sola un momento, cadun ofre un bileta: los es cuasi tan grande como la pasajores, e lo pare ce los pleni intera la vagon.

“Tickets, please!” said the Guard, putting his head in at the window. In a moment everybody was holding out a ticket: they were about the same size as the people, and quite seemed to fill the carriage.

“Ma aora! Mostra tua bileta, enfante!” la Biletor continua, regardante coler Alisia. E un cuantia grande de voses dise en junta (“como un coro ci canta,” Alisia pensa), “No fa ce el pausa, enfante! O! cada minuto de sua tempo ave la valua de mil paundes!”

“Now then! Show your ticket, child!” the Guard went on, looking angrily at Alice. And a great many voices all said together (“like the chorus of a song,” thought Alice), “Don’t keep him waiting, child! Why, his time is worth a thousand pounds a minute!”

“Me regrete ce me no posese un bileta,” Alisia dise en un tono asustada: “on no ia ave un bileteria do me ia comensa.” E denova la coro de voses continua. “La spasio no ia sufisi per un bileteria do el ia comensa. Cada sentimetre de la tera ala ave la valua de mil paundes!”

“I’m afraid I haven’t got one,” Alice said in a frightened tone: “there wasn’t a ticket-office where I came from.” And again the chorus of voices went on. “There wasn’t room for one where she came from. The land there is worth a thousand pounds an inch!”

“No fa escusas,” la Biletor dise: “tu ia ta debe compra un bileta de la locomotivor.” E denova la coro de voses continua con “La om ci gida la locomotiva. O! cada sofleta de la fuma mesma ave la valua de mil paundes!”

“Don’t make excuses,” said the Guard: “you should have bought one from the engine-driver.” And once more the chorus of voices went on with “The man that drives the engine. Why, the smoke alone is worth a thousand pounds a puff!”

Alisia pensa a se, “Donce la parla no va benefica me.” La voses no es oiada a esta ves, car el no ia parla, ma a sua surprende grande, tota de los pensa en coro (me espera ce tu comprende lo cual pensa en coro sinifia—car me debe confesa ce me no comprende lo), “Plu bon, dise tota no cosa. Cada parola de linguaje ave la valua de mil paundes!”

Alice thought to herself, “Then there’s no use in speaking.” The voices didn’t join in this time, as she hadn’t spoken, but to her great surprise, they all thought in chorus (I hope you understand what thinking in chorus means–for I must confess that I don’t), “Better say nothing at all. Language is worth a thousand pounds a word!”

“Me va sonia sur mil paundes a esta note, me sabe lo!” Alisia pensa.

“I shall dream about a thousand pounds tonight, I know I shall!” thought Alice.

Tra tota esta tempo, la Biletor regarda el, prima tra un telescopio, alora tra un microscopio, e alora tra un binoculo de teatro. Final el dise, “Tu no viaja en la dirije coreta,” e clui la fenetra e vade a via.

All this time the Guard was looking at her, first through a telescope, then through a microscope, and then through an opera-glass. At last he said, “You’re travelling the wrong way,” and shut up the window and went away.

“Un enfante tan joven,” un senior dise, sentante a fas de el (el es vestida en paper blanca), “debe sabe en cual dirije el vade, an si el no sabe sua propre nom!”

“So young a child,” said the gentleman sitting opposite to her (he was dressed in white paper), “ought to know which way she’s going, even if she doesn’t know her own name!”

Un Capra, ci senta a lado de la senior en blanca, clui sua oios e dise en un vose forte, “El debe conose la via a la bileteria, an si el no conose la alfabeta!”

A Goat, that was sitting next to the gentleman in white, shut his eyes and said in a loud voice, “She ought to know her way to the ticket-office, even if she doesn’t know her alphabet!”

Un Scarabe senta a lado de la Capra (la vagon conteni jeneral un colie multe strana de pasajores), e, car lo pare ce la regula es ce cadun de los debe parla en serie, lo continua con “Ta ce el revade de asi como bagaje!”

There was a Beetle sitting next to the Goat (it was a very queer carriage-full of passengers altogether), and, as the rule seemed to be that they should all speak in turn, he went on with “She’ll have to go back from here as luggage!”

Alisia no pote vide ci senta ultra la Scarabe, ma un vose con cataro parla seguente. “Cambia la locomotiva—” lo dise, e es obligada a sesa.

Alice couldn’t see who was sitting beyond the Beetle, but a hoarse voice spoke next. “Change engines–” it said, and was obliged to leave off.

“Lo sona como un cavalo,” Alisia pensa a se. E un vose estrema peti, prosima a sua orea, dise, “Tu ta pote cisa fa un broma sur acel—par refere a ‘cavalo’ e ‘cataro’, tu sabe.”

“It sounds like a horse,” Alice thought to herself. And an extremely small voice, close to her ear, said, “You might make a joke on that–something about ‘horse’ and ‘hoarse,’ you know.”

Alora un vose multe jentil dise de distante, “Ta ce on eticeti el como un bagaje frajil: ‘Xica! No xoca!’, tu sabe—”

Then a very gentle voice in the distance said, “She must be labelled ‘Lass, with care,’ you know–”

E pos esta, otra voses continua (“On ave tan multe persones en la vagon!” Alisia pensa), disente, “Ta ce on posta el, car sua testa sembla la fas sur la selos—” “Ta ce on envia el como un mesaje par telegraf—” “Ta ce el mesma tira la tren tra la resta de la viaja—” e tal plu.

And after that other voices went on (“What a number of people there are in the carriage!” thought Alice), saying, “She must go by post, as she’s got a head on her–” “She must be sent as a message by the telegraph–” “She must draw the train herself the rest of the way–” and so on.

Ma la senior vestida en paper blanca apoia a ante e xuxa en sua orea, “Iniora tota de lo cual los dise, mea cara, e compra un bileta de reveni sempre cuando la tren para.”

But the gentleman dressed in white paper leaned forwards and whispered in her ear, “Never mind what they all say, my dear, but take a return-ticket every time the train stops.”

“Me no va fa acel, vera!” Alisia dise alga nonpasiente. “Me tota no parteni a esta viaja de ferovia—me ia es prosima a un foresta a ante—e me desira ce me ta pote revade ala.”

“Indeed I shan’t!” Alice said rather impatiently. “I don’t belong to this railway journey at all–I was in a wood just now–and I wish I could get back there.”

“Tu ta pote cisa fa un broma sur acel,” la vose peti dise prosima a sua orea: “par dise ‘la foresta no resta’, tu sabe.”

“You might make a joke on that,” said the little voice close to her ear: “something about ‘you would if you could,’ you know.”

“No tisa tal,” Alisia dise, regardante en tota dirijes per vide de do la vose veni; “si tu desira tan ce on fa un broma, perce tu mesma no fa lo?”

“Don’t tease so,” said Alice, looking about in vain to see where the voice came from; “if you’re so anxious to have a joke made, why don’t you make one yourself?”

La vose peti suspira profonda: lo es multe nonfelis, evidente, e Alisia ta dise alga cosa compatiosa per consola lo, “sola si lo ta suspira como otra persones!” el pensa. Ma esta es un suspira tan merveliosa peti ce el no ta oia an lo, si lo no ta aveni estrema prosima a sua orea. La resulta de esta es ce lo titila multe sua orea, e distrae intera sua pensas de la nonfelisia de la peti creada povre.

The little voice sighed deeply: it was very unhappy, evidently, and Alice would have said something pitying to comfort it, “If it would only sigh like other people!” she thought. But this was such a wonderfully small sigh, that she wouldn’t have heard it at all, if it hadn’t come quite close to her ear. The consequence of this was that it tickled her ear very much, and quite took off her thoughts from the unhappiness of the poor little creature.

“Me sabe ce tu es un ami,” la vose peti continua; “un ami cara, e un ami vea. E tu no va ataca me, an si me es un inseto.”

“I know you are a friend,” the little voice went on; “a dear friend, and an old friend. And you won’t hurt me, though I am an insect.”

“Cual spesie de inseto?” Alisia demanda alga ansiosa. Lo cual el vole vera sabe es esce lo es capas de pica, ma el opina ce si el ta demanda esta, el no ta condui intera sivil.

“What kind of insect?” Alice inquired a little anxiously. What she really wanted to know was, whether it could sting or not, but she thought this wouldn’t be quite a civil question to ask.

“Ma donce tu no—” la vose peti comensa, ma a esta momento lo es inondada par un xilia alta de la locomotiva, e cadun salta alarmada sur sua pedes, incluinte Alisia.

“What, then you don’t–” the little voice began, when it was drowned by a shrill scream from the engine, and everybody jumped up in alarm, Alice among the rest.

La Cavalo, ci ia sorti sua testa tra la fenetra, retira lo en un modo calma e dise, “Mera, nos va salta per traversa un rieta.” Cadun pare contente con esta, an si Alisia senti alga ansiosa a la idea mesma de un tren saltante. “An tal, lo va move nos a la Cuadro Cuatro; acel es un consola!” el dise a se. Pos un plu momento, el senti ce la vagon asende direta tra la aira, e en sua teme el saisi la cosa la plu prosima a sua mano, cual es acaso la barba de la Capra.

The Horse, who had put his head out of the window, quietly drew it in and said, “It’s only a brook we have to jump over.” Everybody seemed satisfied with this, though Alice felt a little nervous at the idea of trains jumping at all. “However, it’ll take us into the Fourth Square, that’s some comfort!” she said to herself. In another moment she felt the carriage rise straight up into the air, and in her fright she caught at the thing nearest to her hand, which happened to be the Goat’s beard.

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Ma lo pare ce la barba fonde a via cuando el toca lo, e el trova ce el senta calma su un arbor—en cuando la Mosceta (car acel es la inseto a cual el ia es parlante) ecuilibra se sur un basteta direta supra sua testa, e venti el con sua alas.

But the beard seemed to melt away as she touched it, and she found herself sitting quietly under a tree–while the Gnat (for that was the insect she had been talking to) was balancing itself on a twig just over her head, and fanning her with its wings.

Lo es serta un Mosceta multe grande: “cuasi tan grande como un gal,” Alisia pensa. An tal, el no pote senti ansiosa con lo, car los ia parla tan longa con lunlotra.

It certainly was a very large Gnat: “about the size of a chicken,” Alice thought. Still, she couldn’t feel nervous with it, after they had been talking together so long.

“—tu no gusta tota insetos?” la Mosceta continua, tan calma como si no cosa ia aveni.

“–then you don’t like all insects?” the Gnat went on, as quietly as if nothing had happened.

“Me gusta los cuando los pote parla,” Alisia dise. “An no un de los pote parla, en mea pais.”

“I like them when they can talk,” Alice said. “None of them ever talk, where I come from.”

“Cual spesies de insetos tu selebra, en tua pais?” la Mosceta demanda.

“What sort of insects do you rejoice in, where you come from?” the Gnat inquired.

“Me tota no selebra insetos,” Alisia esplica, “car me teme los a alga grado—a la min los cual es grande. Ma me pote dise a tu la nomes de alga de los.”

“I don’t rejoice in insects at all,” Alice explained, “because I’m rather afraid of them–at least the large kinds. But I can tell you the names of some of them.”

“Los responde a sua nomes, natural?” la Mosceta comenta casual.

“Of course they answer to their names?” the Gnat remarked carelessly.

“Me ia esperia nunca acel.”

“I never knew them do it.”

“Como los es beneficada par sua nomes,” la Mosceta dise, “si los no responde a los?”

“What’s the use of their having names,” the Gnat said, “if they won’t answer to them?”

Los no es beneficada,” Alisia dise; “ma la nomes benefica la persones ci dona los, me suposa. Si no, perce cualce cosa ave un nom?”

“No use to them,” said Alice; “but it’s useful to the people who name them, I suppose. If not, why do things have names at all?”

“Me no sabe,” la Mosceta responde. “Plu distante, en la bosce ala a su, no cosa ave un nom—an tal, continua con tua lista de insetos: tu peri la tempo.”

“I can’t say,” the Gnat replied. “Further on, in the wood down there, they’ve got no names–however, go on with your list of insects: you’re wasting time.”

“Bon, nos ave Tabanos, ance nomida Moscas de Cavalo,” Alisia comensa, contante la nomes con sua ditos.

“Well, there’s the Horse-fly,” Alice began, counting off the names on her fingers.

“Alora,” la Mosceta dise: “si tu regarda la punto media de acel arboreta, tu va vide un Mosca de Cavalo Osilante. Lo es intera composada de lenio, e lo move par balansi entre la ramos.”

“All right,” said the Gnat: “half way up that bush, you’ll see a Rocking-horse-fly, if you look. It’s made entirely of wood, and gets about by swinging itself from branch to branch.”

“Cual cosas lo come?” Alisia demanda, con multe curiosia.

“What does it live on?” Alice asked, with great curiosity.

“La sava e la polvo de siera,” la Mosceta dise. “Continua la lista.”

“Sap and sawdust,” said the Gnat. “Go on with the list.”

Alisia leva sua regarda a la Mosca de Cavalo Osilante con multe interesa, e conclui sin duta ce on veni de repinti lo, car lo aspeta tan briliante e moiada; e alora el continua.

Alice looked up at the Rocking-horse-fly with great interest, and made up her mind that it must have been just repainted, it looked so bright and sticky; and then she went on.

“E nos ave Libelulas, ance nomida Moscas de Dragon.”

“And there’s the Dragon-fly.”

“Regarda la ramo supra tua testa,” la Mosceta dise, “e tu va trova ala un Mosca de Dragon de Natal. Sua corpo es un deser de natal, sua alas es folias de ilex, e sua testa es un uva seca cual arde en coniac.”

“Look on the branch above your head,” said the Gnat, “and there you’ll find a snap-dragon-fly. Its body is made of plum-pudding, its wings of holly-leaves, and its head is a raisin burning in brandy.”

“E cual cosas lo come?”

“And what does it live on?”

“La sopa de trigo e tartetas de natal,” la Mosceta responde; “e lo nidi se en un caxa de donadas.”

“Frumenty and mince pie,” the Gnat replied; “and it makes its nest in a Christmas box.”

“E alora nos ave Papilios, ance nomida Moscas de Bur,” Alisia continua, pos esamina la inseto cual ave un “dragon de natal” en loca de testa, e pos pensa a se, “Me vole sabe esce esta clari perce insetos ama tan vola a candelas—car los vole deveni Moscas de Dragon de Natal!”

“And then there’s the Butterfly,” Alice went on, after she had taken a good look at the insect with its head on fire, and had thought to herself, “I wonder if that’s the reason insects are so fond of flying into candles–because they want to turn into Snap-dragon-flies!”

“Rampente a tua pedes,” la Mosceta dise (Alisia retira alga alarmada sua pedes), “un Mosca de Pan Burida es oservable. Sua alas es talias magra de pan burida, sua corpo es un crosta, e sua testa es un peso de zucar.”

“Crawling at your feet,” said the Gnat (Alice drew her feet back in some alarm), “you may observe a Bread-and-Butterfly. Its wings are thin slices of bread-and-butter, its body is a crust, and its head is a lump of sugar.”

“E cual cosas lo come?”

“And what does it live on?”

“La te debil, con crema.”

“Weak tea with cream in it.”

Un problem nova veni a la testa de Alisia. “E si lo no ta trova acel?” el proposa.

A new difficulty came into Alice’s head. “Supposing it couldn’t find any?” she suggested.

“Alora lo ta mori, natural.”

“Then it would die, of course.”

“Ma acel ta aveni multe frecuente,” Alisia comenta pensosa.

“But that must happen very often,” Alice remarked thoughtfully.

“Lo aveni sempre,” la Mosceta dise.

“It always happens,” said the Gnat.

Pos esta, Alisia es silente tra un minuto o du, considerante. La Mosceta diverti entretempo se par multe volas zumbinte sirca sua testa: final lo reposa denova e comenta, “Me suposa ce tu no desira perde tua nom?”

After this, Alice was silent for a minute or two, pondering. The Gnat amused itself meanwhile by humming round and round her head: at last it settled again and remarked, “I suppose you don’t want to lose your name?”

“Vera no,” Alisia dise, alga ansiosa.

“No, indeed,” Alice said, a little anxiously.

“Ma me no es convinseda,” la Mosceta continua en un tono casual: “car imajina: lo ta es tan oportun si tu ta pote revade a casa sin lo! Per esemplo, si la instruor ta vole clama tu a tua lesones, el ta esclama ‘veni asi—’, e alora el ta debe sesa, car el ta dispone no nom con cual el ta pote clama tu, e natural tu no ta debe vade, tu sabe.”

“And yet I don’t know,” the Gnat went on in a careless tone: “only think how convenient it would be if you could manage to go home without it! For instance, if the governess wanted to call you to your lessons, she would call out ‘come here–,’ and there she would have to leave off, because there wouldn’t be any name for her to call, and of course you wouldn’t have to go, you know.”

“Acel tota no ta sufisi, me es serta,” Alisia dise: “la instruor ta aseta nunca cansela mea lesones per acel razona. Si el no ta recorda mea nom, el ta nomi me ‘Seniora!’ como la servores.”

“That would never do, I’m sure,” said Alice: “the governess would never think of excusing me lessons for that. If she couldn’t remember my name, she’d call me ‘Miss!’ as the servants do.”

“Bon, si el ta clama ‘Seniora’ de distante, tu ta oia cisa ‘si, iniora’” la Mosceta comenta, “e donce tu ta iniora tua lesones. Acel es un broma. Me desira ce tu ia fa lo.”

“Well, if she said ‘Miss,’ and didn’t say anything more,” the Gnat remarked, “of course you’d miss your lessons. That’s a joke. I wish you had made it.”

“Perce tu desira ce me ia fa lo?” Alisia demanda. “Lo es un broma multe mal.”

“Why do you wish I had made it?” Alice asked. “It’s a very bad one.”

Ma la Mosceta fa no plu ca suspira profonda, e du larmas grande desende rolante sua jenas.

But the Gnat only sighed deeply, while two large tears came rolling down its cheeks.

“Tu no ta debe fa bromas,” Alisia dise, “si lo fa ce tu deveni tan nonfelis.”

“You shouldn’t make jokes,” Alice said, “if it makes you so unhappy.”

Un otra de acel peti suspiras depresada segue, e vera a esta ves lo pare ce la Mosceta povre ia desapare en sua suspira, car, cuando Alisia leva sua regarda, tota no cosa es vidable sur la basteta, e, car el deveni alga fria pos senta tan longa sin move, el leva se e continua sua pasea.

Then came another of those melancholy little sighs, and this time the poor Gnat really seemed to have sighed itself away, for, when Alice looked up, there was nothing whatever to be seen on the twig, and, as she was getting quite chilly with sitting still so long, she got up and walked on.

Pos un tempo multe corta, el veni a un campo vacua con un bosce a la otra lado: lo aspeta multe plu oscur ca la bosce presedente, e Alisia senti alga timida ante entra a lo. An tal, pos pensa plu, el deside continua: “car serta me no va vade a retro,” el pensa a se, e esta es la sola via a la Cuadro Oto.

She very soon came to an open field, with a wood on the other side of it: it looked much darker than the last wood, and Alice felt a little timid about going into it. However, on second thoughts, she made up her mind to go on: “for I certainly won’t go back,” she thought to herself, and this was the only way to the Eighth Square.

“Me suposa ce esta es la bosce,” el dise pensosa a se, “do no cosa ave un nom. Me vole sabe cual va aveni a mea nom pos me entra? Me tota no ta gusta perde lo—car on ta debe dona a me un nova, e lo ta es cuasi serta un nom fea. Ma alora me ta diverti me en atenta trova la creada ci ave mea nom vea! Acel es esata como en la anunsietas, tu sabe, cuando persones ia perde canes—‘el responde a la nom “Freta”: el ia porta un colar de laton’—ma imajina clama ‘Alisia’ a tota encontradas asta cuando un de los ta responde! Ma los tota no ta responde, si los ta es saja.”

“This must be the wood,” she said thoughtfully to herself, “where things have no names. I wonder what’ll become of my name when I go in? I shouldn’t like to lose it at all–because they’d have to give me another, and it would be almost certain to be an ugly one. But then the fun would be trying to find the creature that had got my old name! That’s just like the advertisements, you know, when people lose dogs–‘answers to the name of “Dash”: had on a brass collar’–just fancy calling everything you met ‘Alice,’ till one of them answered! Only they wouldn’t answer at all, if they were wise.”

El babela ancora en esta modo cuando el ateni la bosce: lo aspeta multe fresca e ombrosa. “Bon, me es vera consolada, an tal,” el dise en cuando el entra a su la arbores, “pos es tan calda, par entra a la—a cual?” el continua, alga surprendeda par sua noncapasia de recorda la parola. “Me vole dise ce me veni su la—su la—su esta, tu sabe!” ponente sua mano sur la tronco de la arbor. “Cual es sua nom, me vole sabe? Me crede vera ce lo no ave un nom—en fato, serta, lo no ave!”

She was rambling on in this way when she reached the wood: it looked very cool and shady. “Well, at any rate it’s a great comfort,” she said as she stepped under the trees, “after being so hot, to get into the–into what?” she went on, rather surprised at not being able to think of the word. “I mean to get under the–under the–under this, you know!” putting her hand on the trunk of the tree. “What does it call itself, I wonder? I do believe it’s got no name–why, to be sure it hasn’t!”

El sta silente tra un minuto, en pensa: alora el recomensa subita. “Donce vera esta ia aveni, contra espeta! E bon, ci me es? Me va recorda, si me pote! Me intende firma recorda!” Ma la intende firma no aida multe, e la sola cosa cual el pote dise, pos un monton de considera, es, “L – me sabe ce lo comensa con L!”

She stood silent for a minute, thinking: then she suddenly began again. “Then it really has happened, after all! And now, who am I? I will remember, if I can! I’m determined to do it!” But being determined didn’t help much, and all she could say, after a great deal of puzzling, was, “L, I know it begins with L!”

A esta momento, un Serveta vaga prosima: lo regarda Alisia con sua oios grande dulse, ma tota no pare asustada. “Veni! Veni!” Alisia dise, estendente sua mano e atentante caresa lo; ma lo fa no plu ca salteta pico a retro, e sta alora regardante el denova.

Just then a Fawn came wandering by: it looked at Alice with its large gentle eyes, but didn’t seem at all frightened. “Here then! Here then!” Alice said, as she held out her hand and tried to stroke it; but it only started back a little, and then stood looking at her again.

“Cual es tua nom?” la Serveta dise final. Lo ave un vose tan dulse e suave!

“What do you call yourself?” the Fawn said at last. Such a soft sweet voice it had!

“Me desira sabe!” la povre Alisia pensa. El responde, alga triste, “Me no ave un nom, a esta momento.”

“I wish I knew!” thought poor Alice. She answered, rather sadly, “Nothing, just now.”

“Pensa denova,” lo dise: “acel no conveni.”

“Think again,” it said: “that won’t do.”

Alisia pensa, ma descovre no cosa. “Per favore, tu ta dise a me tua nom?” el dise alga timida. “Me crede ce acel ta aida alga.”

Alice thought, but nothing came of it. “Please, would you tell me what you call yourself?” she said timidly. “I think that might help a little.”

“Me va dise, si tu ta pasea alga plu,” la Serveta dise. “Me no recorda asi.”

“I’ll tell you, if you’ll move a little further on,” the Fawn said. “I can’t remember here.”

Donce los continua pasea en junta tra la bosce, e Alisia ensirca amante la col suave de la Serveta con sua brasos, asta cuando los emerji a un otra campo vacua, e asi la Serveta fa un bondi subita en la aira, e secute se per libri se de la brasos de Alisia. “Me es un Serveta!” lo esclama en un vose de deleta, “e ai! tu es un enfante umana!” Un espresa alarmada apare subita en sua oios bela brun, e pos un plu momento lo core ja a via con rapidia masima.

So they walked on together though the wood, Alice with her arms clasped lovingly round the soft neck of the Fawn, till they came out into another open field, and here the Fawn gave a sudden bound into the air, and shook itself free from Alice’s arms. “I’m a Fawn!” it cried out in a voice of delight, “and, dear me! you’re a human child!” A sudden look of alarm came into its beautiful brown eyes, and in another moment it had darted away at full speed.

Alisia sta e regarda la parti, cuasi a punto de plora con la frustra de perde tan subita sua peti acompanior cara. “An tal, me sabe aora mea nom,” el dise, “acel es alga un consola. Alisia—Alisia—me no va oblida denova lo. E aora, cual de esta palos de dirije me debe segue, me demanda?”

Alice stood looking after it, almost ready to cry with vexation at having lost her dear little fellow-traveller so suddenly. “However, I know my name now,” she said, “that’s some comfort. Alice–Alice–I won’t forget it again. And now, which of these finger-posts ought I to follow, I wonder?”

La responde a la demanda no es multe difisil, car on ave sola un curso tra la bosce, e ambos de la du palos indica la mesma dirije longo lo. “Me va deside,” Alisia dise a se, “cuando la curso divide e los indica dirijes diferente.”

It was not a very difficult question to answer, as there was only one road through the wood, and the two finger-posts both pointed along it. “I’ll settle it,” Alice said to herself, “when the road divides and they point different ways.”

Ma lo no pare probable ce esta va aveni. El continua sempre plu, e longa, ma a cada loca do la curso divide, el trova sempre du palos cual indica la mesma dirije, la un “A LA CASA DE ROCOCIN” e la otra “A LA CASA DE ROCOCON”.

But this did not seem likely to happen. She went on and on, a long way, but wherever the road divided there were sure to be two finger-posts pointing the same way, one marked “TO TWEEDLEDUM’S HOUSE” and the other “TO THE HOUSE OF TWEEDLEDEE.”

“Ma me crede,” Alisia dise final, “ce los abita la mesma casa! Me mervelia ce me no ia comprende esta a ante—Ma me no pote resta longa ala. Me va fa no plu ca prosimi per dise ‘alo’ e demanda de los la via de sorti de la bosce. Ta ce me ateni an la Cuadro Oto ante la noti!” Donce el vaga plu, parlante a se en pasea, asta cuando, pos verje a un angulo agu, el encontra du peti omes obesa en un modo tan subita ce el no pote evita salteta a retro, ma pos un plu momento el calmi se, serta ce el nomi bon

“I do believe,” said Alice at last, “that they live in the same house! I wonder I never thought of that before–But I can’t stay there long. I’ll just call and say ‘how d’you do?” and ask them the way out of the wood. If I could only get to the Eighth Square before it gets dark!” So she wandered on, talking to herself as she went, till, on turning a sharp corner, she came upon two fat little men, so suddenly that she could not help starting back, but in another moment she recovered herself, feeling sure that they must be

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