CHAPTER III: A Caucus-Race and a Long Tale

They were indeed a queer-looking party that assembled on the bank: the birds with draggled feathers, the animals with their fur clinging close to them, and all dripping wet, cross, and uncomfortable.

The first question of course was how to get dry again. They had a consultation about this, and after a few minutes, it seemed quite natural to Prim to find herself talking familiarly with them, as if she had known them all her life.

Indeed, she had quite a long argument with the Jabberjay, who at last turned sulky and would only say, "I am older than you, and must know better"; and this Prim would not allow without knowing how old it was, and as the Jabberjay positively refused to tell its age, there was no more to be said.

At last, the Mouse, who seemed to be a person of authority among them, called out, "Sit down, all of you, and listen to me. I'll soon make you dry enough."

They all sat down at once in a large ring with the Mouse in the middle. Prim kept her eyes anxiously fixed on it, for she felt sure she would catch a bad cold if she did not get dry very soon.

"Ahem," said the Mouse with an important air, "are you all ready? This is the driest thing I know. Silence all round, if you please. 'As written in the Treaty of Treason, the president shall have the sole power to appoint a Head Gamemaker to plan and manage the required yearly Games. The president may terminate and reappoint the position, as deemed fit, to ensure a successful Games is hosted yearly—'"

"Ugh!" said the Jabberjay with a shiver.

"I beg your pardon," said the Mouse, frowning in a polite manner. "Did you speak?"

"Not I," said the Jabberjay hastily.

"I thought you did," said the Mouse. "I proceed. 'The Head Gamemaker in turn will have a yearly stipend, budgeted by the senate financial committee for the creation of arenas, uniforms, and television. The Head Gamemaker should find it advisable—'"

"Find what?" asked the Duck.

"Find it," the Mouse replied rather crossly. "Of course, you know what 'it' means?"

"I know what 'it' means well enough, when I find a thing," said the Duck, "it's generally a frog or a worm. The question is: what did the Head Gamemaker find?"

The Mouse did not notice this question, but hurriedly went on, "'Find it advisable to monitor audience ratings and meet regularly with the president to ensure the continued success of the Games. If need be, the Head Gamemaker my employee experienced producers from the entertaining industry as advisors if—' How are you getting on now, my dear?" the Mouse continued, turning to Prim as it spoke.

"As wet as ever," said Prim in a melancholy tone. "It doesn't seem to dry me at all."

"In that case," said the Dodo solemnly, rising to its feet, "I move that the meeting adjourn for the immediate adoption of more energetic remedies."

"Speak English," said the Mockingjay. "I don't know the meaning of half those long words, and what's more, I don't believe you do either." And the Mockingjay bent down its head to hide a smile as some of the other birds tittered audibly.

"What I was going to say," said the Dodo in an offended tone, "was that the best thing to get us dry would be a Caucus-race."

"What is a Caucus-race?" asked Prim, not that she wanted much to know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that somebody ought to speak with no one seemingly inclined to say anything.

"Why," said the Dodo, "the best way to explain it is to do it." (And as you might like to try the thing yourself some winter day, I will tell you how the Dodo managed it.)

First the Dodo marked out a racecourse in a sort of circle, ("The exact shape doesn't matter," it said.) and then all the party were placed along the course here and there. There was no 'One, two, three, and away,' but they began running when they liked and left off when they liked so that it was not easy to know when the race was over. However, when they had been running half an hour or so, and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly called out "The race is over!"

They all crowded round it, panting, and asking, "But who has won?"

This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of thought, and it sat for a long time with one finger pressed upon its forehead (the position in which you usually see Shakespeare, in the pictures of him) while the rest waited in silence. At last the Dodo said, "Everybody has won, and all must have prizes."

"But who is to give the prizes?" quite a chorus of voices asked.

"Why, she, of course," said the Dodo, pointing to Prim with one wing.

And the whole party at once crowded round her, calling out in a confused way, "Prizes! Prizes!"

Prim had no idea what to do, and in despair, she put her hand into her pocket and pulled out her bottle of vitamin D tablets given to her by District 13 (luckily the salt water had not got into it) and handed them round as prizes. There was exactly one apiece all round.

"But she must have a prize herself, you know," said the Mouse.

"Of course," the Dodo replied very gravely. "What else have you got in your pocket?" he went on, turning to Prim.

"Only a thimble from District Twelve," said Prim sadly.

"Hand it over here," said the Dodo.

Then they all crowded round her once more while the Dodo solemnly presented the thimble, saying, "We beg your acceptance of this elegant thimble." When the bird finished this short speech, they all cheered.

Prim thought the whole thing very absurd, but they all looked so grave that she did not dare to laugh, and as she could not think of anything to say, she simply bowed and took the thimble, looking as solemn as she could.

The next thing was to swallow the vitamin D. This caused some noise and confusion as the large birds complained that they could not taste theirs, and the small ones choked and had to be patted on the back. However, it was over at last, and they sat down again in a ring and begged the Mouse to tell them something more.

"You promised to tell me your history, you know," said Prim. "And why it is you hate...C and D," she added in a whisper, half-afraid that it would be offended again.

"Mine is a long and a sad tale," said the Mouse, turning to Prim and sighing.

"It is a long tail, certainly," said Prim, looking down with wonder at the Mouse's tail. "But why do you call it sad?" And she kept on puzzling about it while the Mouse was speaking so that her idea of the tale was something like this:

(author's note: fanfiction's site won't let me format the following properly. Those unfamiliar with Wonderland should know that the following words curved like a tail down the center of the page.)

Fury said to a
mouse, that he
met in the
house,
"Let us
both go to
law: I will
prosecute
YOU. —Come,
I'll take no
denial; we
must have a
trial: For
really this
morning I've
nothing
to do."
Said the
mouse to the
cur, "Such
a trial,
dear Sir,
with
no jury
or judge,
would be
wasting
our
breath."
"I'll be
judge, I'll
be jury,"
Said
cunning
old Fury:
"I'll
try the
whole
cause,
and
condemn
you
to
Death."

"You are not attending!" said the Mouse to Prim severely. "What are you thinking of?"

"I beg your pardon," said Prim very humbly. "You had got to the fifth bend, I think?"

"I had not!" cried the Mouse, sharply and very angrily.

"A knot," said Prim always ready to make herself useful, and looking anxiously about her. "Oh, do let me help to undo it."

"I shall do nothing of the sort," said the Mouse, getting up and walking away. "You insult me by talking such nonsense."

"I didn't mean it," pleaded poor Prim. "But you're so easily offended, you know."

The Mouse only growled in reply.

"Please come back and finish your story," Prim called after it.

And the others all joined in chorus, "Yes, please do."

But the Mouse only shook its head impatiently and walked a little quicker.

"What a pity it wouldn't stay," sighed the Jabberjay as soon as furry creature was quite out of sight; and an old Crab took the opportunity of saying to her daughter, "Ah, my dear, let this be a lesson to you never to lose your temper." "Hold your tongue, Ma," said a smaller Crab, a little snappishly. "You're enough to try the patience of an oyster."

"I wish I had my Buttercup here; I know I do!" said Prim aloud, addressing nobody in particular. "She'd soon fetch it back."

"And who is Buttercup, if I might venture to ask the question?" said the Jabberjay.

Prim replied eagerly, for she was always ready to talk about her pet. "Buttercup is our cat. And she's such a capital one for catching mice, you can't think. And oh, I wish you could see her after the birds. Why, she'll eat a little bird as soon as look at it."

This speech caused a remarkable sensation among the party. Some of the birds hurried off at once; one old Magpie began wrapping itself up very carefully, remarking, "I really must be getting home; the night-air doesn't suit my throat." And a Canary called out in a trembling voice to its children, "Come away, my dears! It's high time you were all in bed!" On various pretexts, they all moved off, and Prim was soon left alone.

"I wish I hadn't mentioned Buttercup," she said to herself in a melancholy tone. "Nobody seems to like her down here, and I'm sure she's the best cat in the world. Oh, my dear Buttercup, I wonder if I shall ever see you anymore." And here poor Prim began to cry again, for she felt very lonely and low-spirited.

In a little while, however, she again heard a little pattering of footsteps in the distance, and she looked up eagerly, half hoping that the Mouse had changed his mind and was coming back to finish his story.