Page:Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There.djvu/197

Rh "But the tune isn't his own invention," she said to herself: "it's 'I give thee all, I can no more.'" She stood and listened very attentively, but no tears came into her eyes.

"I'll tell thee everything I can;

There's little to relate.

I saw an aged aged man,

A-sitting on a gate.

'Who are you, aged man?' I said.

And how is it you live?

And his answer trickled through my head

Like water through a sieve.

He said 'I look for butterflies

That sleep among the wheat:

I make them into mutton-pies,

And sell them in the street.

I sell them unto men,' he said,

'Who sail on stormy seas;

And that's the way I get my bread—

A trifle, if you please.'