Chapter II · THE DUEL MONARCHY.
Reading edition
The path into the wood twisted and turned, first one way and then another, until Alice got quite frightened that she would be lost. She tried to walk back to the garden, but only succeeded in getting further and further into the wood. Presently she came to a place where the path spread out into a little grass plot, in which two queer little men were standing under a tree, each with an arm round the other’s neck.
Though they were very much alike, Alice knew in a moment which was which, because one was very neat and trim in uniform, and the other was wearing an ill-fitting Czech Croat with Magyar sleeves. Besides, the first had “Francis” embroidered on his belt in German characters, while the second was labelled “Joseph,” written in a language that looked like fretwork.
They stood so still that she quite forgot that they were alive, and she was just walking round to see if they were really as friendly as they looked, when she was startled by a voice coming from the one marked “Joseph.”
“If you think we’re object-lessons,” he said, “you ought to pay, you know. Experience can’t be bought for nothing. Nohow!”
“Contrariwise,” added the one marked “Francis,” “if you think we’ve any vitality in us, you ought to accept our terms.”
“I’m sure I’m very sorry,” was all Alice could say; for she couldn’t help thinking that they were a badly assorted couple, and that, if Francis didn’t keep a tight hold on Joseph, they would fall out and never come together again.
“I know what you’re thinking about,” said Francis, “but it isn’t so, nohow!”
“Contrariwise,” continued Joseph, “if it is so, it might be; if it isn’t, it ain’t, and you never can tell. That’s logic.”
“I was wondering,” Alice said very politely, “if you know the way out of this wood?”
“Nohow. And thank you very much for asking,” said Francis.
“So much obliged!” added Joseph. “You like diplomacy?”
“Ye-es, pretty well—some diplomacy,” Alice said doubtfully. “Would you please tell me the way out of the wood?”
“The essence of diplomacy,” said Joseph, “is circumlocution combined with obscurity. We will reply to the question in a diplomatic manner. Which method shall we adopt?” he added, looking round at his brother with great solemn eyes.
“Our own, of course,” said Francis, and began at once:
“The dew was falling due, The stars began to blink, I heard a raucous voice that said, ‘Drink, little Serbia, drink. “‘Swallow your natural pride, Gulp down our insults, too, And drink the nasty medicine up, That we’ve prepared for you. “‘Grovel before our feet, Lick our Imperial boot, Trot out your beastly officers That we intend to shoot. “‘Reorganise your schools, Make politics a crime, Or——’”
“That’s not diplomacy,” Joseph interrupted, giving his brother an unnecessarily hard dig in the ribs; “any child could see what it means! Now the method of ‘the Kaiser and the Chancellor’ is much more obscure.”
“Oh, well! Have it your own way for once,” Francis grumbled.
Joseph started instantly:
“The place was basking——”
Here Alice ventured to interrupt him. “If it’s very obscure,” she said, as politely as she could, “would you please tell me plainly how to get out of the wood?”
Joseph smiled gently, and began again:
“
‘If this were only Germanised,’ they said, ‘it would be grand!’
”
“The place was basking in the sun, Extremely warm and bright; The mailéd fist was stretching out To grab whate’er it might; And this was very wrong, because It wasn’t very right. “The world was watching sulkily, A frown upon her face, Because she thought the mailéd fist Distinctly out of place. ‘His clear intention,’ she remarked, ‘Amounts to a disgrace.’ “The Kaiser and the Chancellor Were walking hand in hand; They wept like anything to see Such lots of foreign land; ‘If this were only Germanised,’ They said, ‘it would be grand!’ “‘If seven hosts of peaceful huns Swept it with fire and sword, Do you suppose,’ the Kaiser said, ‘Culture could be restored?’ ‘I doubt it,’ said the Chancellor, And looked a trifle bored. “‘Oh, Nations, come and walk with us,’ The wily Kaiser cried, ‘A pleasant talk, a pleasant walk, O’er frontiers far and wide; For we can do with two of you To help on either side!’ “The wise Italian winked his eye And cautiously arose; Then slowly spread his fingers out And placed them to his nose, Meaning to say that he would do Exactly as he chose. “But Hungary Austrians hurried up, Eager to take a hand, Willing to walk a little way Behind the German band; Their simple Czechs looked out of place ’Midst uniforms so grand. “The Kaiser and the Chancellor Walked on a mile or two, Until they reached the Balkan States, Conveniently new; A spot where raising trouble was An easy thing to do. “‘The time has come,’ the Kaiser said, ‘To talk of blood and wars; Of Me, and Germany, and God; And Culture, and the Cause; And why the sea is much too hot; And whether bears have claws!’ “‘Please, sir,’ the simple Austrians cried, Turning a little blue, ‘We did not know that was the sort Of thing you meant to do!’ ‘How kind I am,’ the Kaiser said, ‘To plan this treat for you! “‘A place within the summer sun Is what attracts my gaze; A certain studied frightfulness Shall hall-mark all our ways; So hand your dry old treaties up, And let us start the blaze! “‘It was so nice of you to come And help us toe the line; Your aid is quite essential to My long-prepared design!’ The Chancellor said nothing but, ‘This paper’s burning fine!’ “‘It seems a shame,’ the Austrians cried, ‘To kindle such a fire; The dirty smoke is in our eyes; Our feet are in the mire.’ The Kaiser answered nothing but, ‘Send off another wire!’ “‘I mourn you,’ said the Chancellor, ‘I deeply sympathise, We did not know the job was such A very nasty size!’ The Kaiser put his helmet on, And looked extremely wise. “‘Oh, Austrians,’ said the Chancellor, ‘You are a simple race, Shall we be trotting off to find Some other sunny place?’— But answer came there none, because They’d vanished into space.”
“I like the Chancellor best,” said Alice, “because he was a little sorry for the poor Austrians.”
“It was his doing, though,” said Francis. “He worked out the whole scheme, because he was cleverer than the Kaiser; contrariwise.”
“In that case,” Alice said indignantly, “I certainly like the Kaiser best.”
“But it was all done for his benefit,” said Joseph.
This was a puzzler. After a pause, Alice began: “Well! They were both very unpleasant characters—” Here she checked herself in some alarm, at hearing something that sounded to her like the grunting of a million pigs.
“It’s only the Red King snoring,” said Francis; “come and look at him,” the Twins cried, and they each took one of Alice’s hands and led her up to where the king was sleeping.
“Isn’t he a lovely sight?” said Francis.
Alice couldn’t say honestly that he was. His head was very swollen, his feet were much too large for his boots, and altogether he was a very unpleasant object.
“He’s dreaming now,” said Francis, “and what do you think he’s dreaming about?”
Alice said: “Nobody can guess that.”
“Why, about you!” Francis exclaimed. “And about us! And about the whole world. Why, you’re only a sort of thing in his dream.”
“If that there king was to wake,” added Joseph, “you’d go out—bang!—just like a candle!”
“
‘If that there king was to wake, you’d go out—bang!—just like a candle!’
”
“I shouldn’t!” Alice exclaimed indignantly. “Besides, if I’m only a sort of thing in his dream, what are you, I should like to know?”
“Ditto,” said Francis.
“Ditto, ditto,” cried Joseph. “There isn’t anything he can’t dream. Why, he can dream he’s got the world, and the moon, and a place in the sun! And one day he’ll wake up.”
The Red King snored more loudly than ever, and rolled his head about as if he was very uncomfortable.
“Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown!” remarked Francis sententiously.
“He lies easy enough,” retorted Joseph. “He’ll be much more uneasy when he loses the thing.”
“His dream must be very, very beautiful!” said Francis, gazing at him admiringly.
“More like a nightmare, I should think,” said Joseph.
“I tell you it’s a dream!” shouted Francis angrily.
“And I tell you it’s a nightmare!” screamed Joseph. There was a pause, and the Twins glared angrily at one another.
“You will apologise, of course?” asked Francis.
“Contrariwise and nohow,” said Joseph decidedly.
“Then we must fight,” said Francis.
“Who?” Joseph inquired innocently. “I don’t see anyone small enough to make it really safe.”
“In that case,” said Francis, “we must fight one another. Of course, you will observe the rules of war?”
“Certainly,” said Joseph, “the German rules. You’d better read them to us,” he added, handing a large roll of parchment to Alice.
Alice opened the parchment and read aloud:—
“Rule 1.—A place in the sun is worth two in the shade.
Rule 2.—In for a penny, in for a pounding.
Rule 3.—Many a meddle makes a muddle.”
“I suppose ‘medal’ means ‘iron cross’?” inquired Joseph.
“Contrariwise,” said Francis, “it’s spelt the other way.”
“Rule 4.—The pen is mightier than the sword.”
“But it doesn’t seem to have the effect we expected on American opinion,” Francis remarked.
“Rule 5.—Many lies, found foolish.
“Rule 6.—It’s one thing to bray and another thing to do.”
“I always thought that official news bureau was a mistake,” said Joseph. “It’s an ass in Wolff’s clothing, I think.”
“Rule 7.—It never rains but it pours.”
“Iron crosses again,” Joseph groaned.
“Rule 8.—There are better ships on the sea than ever kept out of it.
Rule 9.—What’s yours is mined, and what’s mined is my own.”
“That must refer to the Yorck!” cried Francis, bursting into tears.
“Never mind,” said Alice, trying to console him.
“You mean ‘no matter,’ don’t you?” Joseph inquired.
“No, I don’t!” Alice retorted. “Mind can’t be matter, you know.”
“Possibly,” said Joseph, “but matter can be mined. Go on.”
Alice continued—
“Rule 10.—It’s a long line that has no turning.
Rule 11.—The end justifies the means.
Rule 12.—All’s fair in love and war.”
“In that case,” said Joseph, “the long and short of it is that we can play any dirty trick we——”
He never finished the sentence, for at this moment the Red King gave a terrible grunt, and began to wave his mailed fists wildly in the air.
“He’s going to wake!” screamed the Twins. “And if he does, it’s all up with us. Run for your life.”
They both turned tail and bolted into the wood, and Alice thought she had better follow; but she soon lost sight of them, and presently found herself walking straight up to a large house standing on a sort of island, not exactly in the wood, and not exactly out of it.