But four young Oysters hurried up, Their coats were brushed, their faces washed, Their shoes were clean and neat— And this was odd, because, you know, They hadn't any feet. Four other Oysters followed them, And thick and fast they came at last, The Walrus and the Carpenter And all the little Oysters stood • The time has come,' the Walrus said, To talk of many things: Of shoes—and ships—and sealing wax— And why the sea is boiling hot— 'A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said, Now if you're ready, Oysters dear 'But not on us!' the Oysters cried, Turning a little blue. 'After such kindness, that would be A dismal thing to do!' 'The night is fine,' the Walrus said, Do you admire the view?' 'It was so kind of you to come! I wish you were not quite so deaf- 'It seems a shame,' the Walrus said, To play them such a trick, After we've brought them out so far, And made them trot so quick!' The Carpenter said nothing but 'The butter's spread too thick!' 'I weep for you,' the Walrus said: 'I deeply sympathize.' With sobs and tears he sorted out "O Oysters,' said the Carpenter, You've had a pleasant run! Shall we be trotting home again? But answer came there none— And this was scarcely odd, because They'd eaten every one. "I like the Walrus best," said Alice: "because you see he was a little sorry for the poor oysters." "He ate more than the Carpenter, though," said Tweedledee. "You see he held his handkerchief in front, so that the Carpenter couldn't count how many he took: contrariwise." "That was mean!" Alice said indignantly. "Then I like the Carpenter best—if he didn't eat so many as the Walrus." "But he ate as many as he could get," said Tweedledum. |