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Cover illustration by Jenny Zemanek

Cover design by Marcie Lawrence

Interior design by Kevin Ullrich

A Note on the Text: This book was published in 1865 (Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland) and 1871 (Through the Looking-Glass) and reflects the attitudes of its time. The publisher’s decision to present these works as originally published is not intended as endorsement of any offensive cultural representations or language.

E3-20250520-JV-NF-ORI

CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

Through the Looking-Glass

Endnotes

Questions for Discussion

About the Author

Cover

Table of Contents

Page List

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ALICE’S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND

FROM PREFACE TO 1898 EDITION

ENQUIRIES HAVE BEEN SO OFTEN ADDRESSED TO ME, AS TO WHETHER any answer to the Hatter’s Riddle (see here) can be imagined, that I may as well put on record here what seems to me to be a fairly appropriate answer, viz. “Because it can produce a few notes, though they are very flat; and that it is never put with the wrong end in front!” This, however, is merely an after-thought: the Riddle, as originally invented, had no answer at all.

All in the golden afternoon

Full leisurely we glide;

For both our oars with little skill,

By little arms are plied,

While little hands make vain pretence

Our wanderings to guide.

Ah, cruel Three! In such an hour,

Beneath such dreamy weather,

To beg a tale of breath too weak

To stir the tiniest feather!

Yet what can one poor voice avail

Against three tongues together?

Imperious Prima flashes forth

Her edict “to begin it”:

In gentler tones Secunda hopes

“There will be nonsense in it!”

While Tertia interrupts the tale

Not more than once a minute.

Anon, to sudden silence won,

In fancy they pursue

The dream-child moving through a land

Of wonders wild and new,

In friendly chat with bird or beast—

And half believe it true.

And ever, as the story drained

The wells of fancy dry,

And faintly strove that weary one

To put the subject by,

“The rest next time—” “It is next time!”

The happy voices cry.

Thus grew the tale of Wonderland:

Thus slowly, one by one,

Its quaint events were hammered out—

And now the tale is done,

And home we steer, a merry crew,

Beneath the setting sun.

Alice! A childish story take,

And, with a gentle hand,

Lay it where Childhood’s dreams are twined

In Memory’s mystic band.

Like pilgrim’s wither’d wreath of flowers

Pluck’d in a far-off land.