Alice in Wonderland — A Wonderland Micellany (Part 10 of 13)

what Mr Harcourt had made him: and I may say nearly the same of Tweedledum: but the Hatter surprised me most--perhaps only because it came first in the play.

There were others who realised my ideas nearly as well; but I am not attempting a complete review: I will conclude with a few words about the two children who played `Alice' and `the Dormouse'.

Of Miss Phoebe Carlo's performance it would be difficult to speak too highly. As a mere effort of memory, it was surely a marvellous feat for so young a child, to learn no less than two hundred and fifteen speeches-- nearly three times as many as Beatrice in `Much Ado About Nothing'. But what I admired most, as realising most nearly my ideal heroine, was her perfect assumption of the high spirits, and readiness to enjoy everything, of a child out for a holiday. I doubt if any grown actress, however experienced, could have worn this air so perfectly; we look before and after, and sigh for what is not; a child never does this; and it is only a child that can utter from her heart the words poor Margaret Fuller Ossoli so longed to make her own, `I am all happy now!'

And last (I may for once omit the time-honoured addition `not least', for surely no tinier maiden ever yet achieved so genuine a theatrical success?) comes our dainty Dormouse. `Dainty' is the only epithet that seems to me exactly to suit her: with her beaming baby-face, the delicious crispness of her speech, and the perfect realism with which she makes herself the embodied essence of Sleep, she is surely the daintiest Dormouse that ever yet told us `I sleep when I breathe!' With the first words of that her opening speech, a sudden silence falls upon the house (at least it has been so every time I have been there), and the baby tones sound strangely clear in the stillness. And yet I doubt if the charm is due only to the incisive clearness of her articulation; to me there was an even greater charm in the utter self-abandonment and conscientious thoroughness of her acting. If Dorothy ever adopts a motto, it ought to be `thorough'. I hope the time may soon come when she will have a better part than `Dormouse' to play--when some enterprising manager will revive the `Midsummer Night's Dream' and do his obvious duty to the public by securing Miss Dorothy d'Alcourt as `Puck'!

It would be well indeed for our churches if some of the clergy could take a lesson in enunciation from this little child; and better still, for `our noble selves', if we would lay to heart some things that she could teach us, and would learn by her example to realise, rather more than we do, the spirit of a maxim I once came across in an old book, `Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.'

THE following verses were first published in the magazine Fun on 30 October, 1878. It is not known who wrote them, but they were shown to Lewis Carroll in 1872 in an earlier form which he altered and improved into the version which was finally printed.

   First pull up the fish,
It can't swim away: for a fish this is funny!
   Next 'tis bought; and I wish
That a penny was always its adequate money.

   Make it ready to eat--
Fetching pepper and vinegar won't take a minute.
   Dish with cover complete,
Of lovely shell china, already 'tis in it.