Page:Through the looking-glass and what Alice found there (IA throughlookinggl00carr4).pdf/265

 "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.'

"But I was thinking of a plan  To dye one's whiskers green, And always use so large a fan   That they could not be seen. So, having no reply to give   To what the old man said, I cried, 'Come, tell me how you live!'   And thumped him on the head.

"His accents mild took up the tale;  He said, 'I go my ways, And when I find a mountain-rill,   I set it in a blaze; And thence they make a stuff they call   Rowland's Macassar-Oil— Yet two pence-halfpenny is all   They give me for my toil.'

"But I was thinking of a way To feed one's self on batter,