CHAPTER IX: Queen Prim

"Well, this is grand," said Prim. "I never expected I should be a Queen so soon, and I'll tell you what it is, your Majesty," she went on in a severe tone (she was always rather fond of scolding herself), "it'll never do for you to be lolling about on the grass like that. Queens have to be dignified, you know."

So she got up and walked about, rather stiffly just at first, as she was afraid that the crown might come off. But she comforted herself with the thought that there was nobody to see her. "And if I really am a Queen," she said as she sat down again, "I shall be able to manage it quite well in time."

Everything was happening so oddly that she didn't feel a bit surprised at finding Queen Coin and Queen Wiress sitting close to her, one on each side. She would have liked very much to ask them how they came there, but she feared it would not be quite civil. However, there would be no harm, she thought, in asking if the game was over. "Please, would you tell me," she began, looking timidly at President Coin, who was dressed from head to toe in Red.

"Speak when you're spoken to," President Coin sharply interrupted her.

"But if everybody obeyed that rule," said Prim, who was always ready for a little argument, "and if you only spoke when you were spoken to while the other person always waited for you to begin, you see, nobody would ever say anything. So that—"

"Ridiculous!" cried President Coin. "Why, don't you see, child—" Here she broke off with a frown, and after thinking for a minute, suddenly changed the subject of the conversation. "What do you mean by 'If you really are a Queen'? What right have you to call yourself so? You can't be a Queen, you know, till you've passed the proper examination. And the sooner we begin it, the better."

"I only said if," poor Prim pleaded in a piteous tone.

The two Queens looked at each other, and President Coin remarked with a little shudder, "She says she only said if—"

"But she said a great deal more than that," Wiress moaned, nervously rubbing her hands over her white flowing dress. "Ooh, ever so much more than that."

"So you did, you know," President Coin said to Prim. "Always speak the truth, think before you speak, and write it down afterwards."

"I'm sure I didn't mean—" Prim was beginning when the president interrupted her impatiently.

"That's just what I complain of! You should have meant! What do you suppose is the use of child without any meaning? Even a joke should have some meaning, and a child's more important than a joke, I hope. You couldn't deny that even if you tried with both hands."

"I don't deny things with my hands," Prim objected.

"Nobody said you did," said President Coin. "I said you couldn't if you tried."

"She's in that state of mind," said Wiress, "that she wants to deny something, only she doesn't know what to deny."

"A nasty, vicious temper," President Coin remarked, and then there was an uncomfortable silence for a minute or two.

The woman in red broke the silence by saying to her counterpart in white, "I invite you to Prim's dinner-party this afternoon."

Wiress smiled feebly and said, "And I invite you."

"I didn't know I was to have a party at all," said Prim, "but if there is to be one, I think I ought to invite the guests."

"We gave you the opportunity of doing it," President Coin remarked, "but I daresay you've not had many lessons in manners yet?"

"Manners are not taught in lessons," said Prim. "Lessons teach you to do sums and things of that sort."

"And do you do addition?" Wiress asked. "What's one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one?"

"I don't know," said Prim. "I lost count."

"She can't do addition," President Coin interrupted. "Can you do subtraction? Take nine from eight."

"Nine from eight I can't, you know," Prim replied very readily. "But—"

"She can't do subtraction," said Wiress. "Can you do division? Divide a loaf by a knife; what's the answer to that?"

"I suppose—" Prim was beginning when President Coin answered for her. "

Bread-and-butter, of course. Try another subtraction sum. Take a bone from a dog; what remains?"

Prim considered. "Of course, the bone wouldn't remain if I took it, and the dog wouldn't remain since it would come to bite me, and I'm sure I shouldn't remain."

"Then you think nothing would remain?" asked President Coin.

"I think that's the answer."

"Wrong, as usual," said President Coin. "The dog's temper would remain."

"But I don't see how—"

"Why, look here," President Coin cried. "The dog would lose its temper; wouldn't it?"

"Perhaps it would," Prim replied cautiously.

"Then if the dog went away, its temper would remain," President Coin exclaimed triumphantly.

Prim said, as gravely as she could, "They might go different ways." But she couldn't help thinking to herself, What dreadful nonsense we 'are' talking!

"She can't do sums a bit!" the Red and White Queens said together with great emphasis.

"Can you do sums?" Prim said, turning suddenly to the White Queen, for Wiress didn't like being found fault with so much.

The Queen gasped and shut her eyes. "I can do addition if you give me time, but I can't do subtraction under any circumstances."

"Of course you know your A B C?" asked President Coin.

"To be sure I do," said Prim.

"So do I," Wiress whispered. "We'll often say it over together, dear. And I'll tell you a secret: I can read words of one letter. Isn't that grand. However, don't be discouraged; you'll come to it in time."

Here President Coin began again. "Can you answer useful questions?" she asked. "How is bread made?"

"I know that," Prim cried eagerly. "You take some flour—"

"Where do you pick the flower?" Wiress asked. "In a garden, or in the hedges?"

"Well, it isn't picked at all," Prim explained. "It's ground—"

"How many acres of ground?" Wiress asked. "You mustn't leave out so many things."

"Fan the girl's head," President Coin anxiously interrupted. "She'll be feverish after so much thinking." So the Red and White Queens set to work and fanned her with bunches of leaves till she had to beg them to leave off, for it blew her hair about so.

"She's all right again now," said President Coin. "Do you know Languages? What's the French for fiddle-de-dee?"

"Fiddle-de-dee's not English," Prim replied gravely.

"Who ever said it was?" said the red woman.

Prim thought she saw a way out of the difficulty this time. "If you'll tell me what language 'fiddle-de-dee' is, I'll tell you the French for it," she exclaimed triumphantly.

But President Coin drew herself up rather stiffly and said, "Queens never make bargains."

I wish Queens never asked questions, Prim thought to herself.

"Don't let us quarrel," Wiress said in an anxious tone. "What is the cause of lightning?"

"The cause of lightning," Prim said very decidedly, for she felt quite certain about this, "is the thunder—no, no!" she hastily corrected herself. "I meant the other way."

"It's too late to correct it," said President Coin. "When you've once said a thing, that fixes it, and you must take the consequences."

"Which reminds me...," Wiress said, looking down while nervously clasping and unclasping her hands, "…we had such a thunderstorm last Tuesday; I mean one of the last set of Tuesdays, you know."

Prim was puzzled. "In our country," she remarked, "there's only one day at a time."

President Coin said, "That's a poor thin way of doing things. Now here, we mostly have days and nights, two or three at a time; and sometimes in the winter, we take as many as five nights together, for warmth, you know."

"Are five nights warmer than one night, then?" Prim ventured to ask.

"Five times as warm, of course."

"But they should be five times as cold, by the same rule—"

"Just so," cried President Coin. "Five times as warm, and five times as cold, just as I'm five times as rich as you are, and five times as clever."

Prim sighed and gave it up. It's exactly like a riddle with no answer, she thought.

"Caesar Flickerman saw it too," Wiress went on in a low voice—more as if she were talking to herself. "He came to the door with a corkscrew in his hand—"

"What did he want?" interrupted President Coin.

"He said he would come in," Wiress went on, "because he was looking for a hippopotamus. Now, as it happened, there wasn't such a thing in the house…that morning."

"Is there generally?" Prim asked in an astonished tone.

"Well, only on Thursdays," said Wiress.

"I know what he came for," said Prim. "He wanted to punish the fish, because—"

Here, Wiress imprudently began again. "It was such a thunderstorm, you can't think." ("She never could, you know," said President Coin.) "And part of the roof came off, and ever so much thunder got in, and it went rolling round the room in great lumps, knocking over the tables and things till I was so frightened that I couldn't remember my own name."

Prim thought to herself, I never should 'try' to remember my name in the middle of an accident. Where would be the use of it? But she did not ask this aloud for fear of hurting the poor Queen's feeling.

"Your Majesty must excuse her," President Coin said to Prim, taking one of the White Queen's hands in her own and gently stroking it. "Wiress means well, but she can't help saying foolish things, as a general rule."

Wiress looked timidly at Prim, who felt she ought to say something kind but really couldn't think of anything at the moment.

"She never was really well brought up," President Coin went on. "But it's amazing how good-tempered she is. Pat her on the head and see how pleased she'll be."

But this was more than Prim had courage to do.

"A little kindness, and putting her hair in papers, would do wonders with her."

Wiress gave a deep sigh and laid her head on Prim's shoulder. "I am so sleepy?" she moaned.

"She's tired, poor thing," said President Coin. "Smooth her hair, lend her your nightcap, and sing her a soothing lullaby."

"I haven't got a nightcap with me," said Prim as she tried to obey the first direction. "And I don't know any soothing lullabies."

"I must do it myself then," said President Coin, and she began:

'Hush-a-by lady, in Prim's lap!

Till the feast's ready, we've time for a nap:

When the feast's over, we'll go to the ball—

Red Queen, and White Queen, and Prim, and all!

"And now you know the words," President Coin added as she put her head down on Prim's other shoulder. "Just sing it through to me. I'm getting sleepy, too."

In another moment, both Queens were fast asleep and snoring loud.

"What am I to do?" exclaimed Prim, looking about in great perplexity as one round head followed by the other, rolled down from her shoulder and lay like a heavy lump in her lap. "I don't think it ever happened before, that anyone had to take care of two Queens asleep at once. No, not in all the History of England, it couldn't, you know, because there never was more than one Queen at a time. Do wake up, you heavy things!" she went on in an impatient tone.

But there was no answer other than gentle snoring. The snoring got more distinct every minute and sounded more like a tune.

At last, Prim could even make out the words, and she listened so eagerly that when the two great heads vanished from her lap, she hardly missed them.

She was standing before an arched doorway over which were the words QUEEN PRIM in large letters, and on each side of the arch, there was a bell-handle: one was marked Visitors' Bell, and the other Servants' Bell.

I'll wait till the song's over, thought Prim. "And then I'll ring...the...which bell must I ring?" she went on, very much puzzled by the names. "I'm not a visitor, and I'm not a servant. There ought to be one marked Queen, you know."

Just then, the door opened a little way, and a creature with a long beak put its head out for a moment and said, "No admittance till the week after next," shutting the door again with a bang.

Prim knocked and rang in vain for a long time, but at last, a very old Frog who was sitting under a tree got up and hobbled slowly towards her. He was dressed in bright yellow and had enormous boots on.

"What is it, now?" the Frog said in a deep hoarse whisper.

Prim turned round, ready to find fault with anybody. "Where's the servant whose business it is to answer the door?" she began angrily.

"Which door?" asked the Frog.

Prim almost stamped with irritation at the slow drawl in which he spoke. "This door, of course!"

The Frog looked at the door with his large dull eyes for a minute; then he went nearer and rubbed it with his thumb, as if he were trying whether the paint would come off; then he looked at Prim.

"To answer the door?" he said. "What's it been asking of?" He was so hoarse that Prim could scarcely hear him.

"I don't know what you mean," she said.

"I talks English, doesn't I?" the Frog went on. "Or are you deaf? What did it ask you?"

"Nothing!" Prim said impatiently. "I've been knocking at it!"

"Shouldn't do that; shouldn't do that," the Frog muttered. "Vexes it, you know." Then he went up and gave the door a kick with one of his great feet. "You let it alone," he panted out as he hobbled back to his tree, "and it'll let you alone, you know."

At this moment, the door was flung open and a shrill voice was heard singing:

"To the Looking-Glass world it was Prim that said,
'I've a sceptre in hand, I've a crown on my head;
Let the Looking-Glass creatures, whatever they be,
Come and dine with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me.'"

And hundreds of voices joined in the chorus:

"Then fill up the glasses as quick as you can,
And sprinkle the table with buttons and bran:
Put cats in the coffee, and mice in the tea—
And welcome Queen Prim with thirty-times-three!"

Then followed a confused noise of cheering, and Prim thought to herself, Thirty times three makes ninety. I wonder if any one's counting? In a minute, there was silence again, and the same shrill voice sang another verse:

"'O Looking-Glass creatures,' quoth Prim, 'draw near!
'Tis an honour to see me, a favour to hear:
'Tis a privilege high to have dinner and tea
Along with the Red Queen, the White Queen, and me!'"

Then came the chorus again:

"Then fill up the glasses with treacle and ink,
Or anything else that is pleasant to drink:
Mix sand with the cider, and wool with the wine—
And welcome Queen Prim with ninety-times-nine!"

"Ninety times nine!" Prim repeated in despair, "Oh, that'll never be done. I'd better go in at once."

And there was a dead silence the moment Prim appeared. She glanced nervously along the table as she walked up the large hall, noticing that there were about fifty guests of all kinds: some were animals, some birds, and there were even a few flowers among them. I'm glad they've come without waiting to be asked, she thought. I should never have known who were the right people to invite.

There were three chairs at the head of the table. The Red and White Queens had already taken two of them, but the middle one was empty. Prim sat down in it, appearing rather uncomfortable in the silence—and longing for someone to speak.

At last, President Coin began. "You've missed the soup and fish," the red woman said. "Put on the joint."

When the waiters set a leg of mutton before Prim, she looked at it rather anxiously as she had never had to carve a joint before.

"You look a little shy. Let me introduce you to that leg of mutton," said President Coin. "Prim, Mutton; Mutton, Prim."

The leg of mutton got up in the dish and made a little bow to Prim; and Prim returned the bow, not knowing whether to be frightened or amused.

"May I give you a slice?" Prim said, taking up the knife and fork before glancing from one Queen to the other.

"Certainly not," President Coin said very decidedly. "It isn't etiquette to cut any one you've been introduced to. Remove the joint."

And the waiters carried it off and brought a large plum-pudding in its place.

"I won't be introduced to the pudding, please," Prim said rather hastily, "or we shall get no dinner at all. May I give you some?"

But President Coin looked sulky at her and growled, "Pudding, Prim; Prim, Pudding. Remove the pudding."

And the waiters took it away so quickly that Prim couldn't return its bow.

However, Prim didn't see why President Coin should be the only one to give orders, so as an experiment, she called out, "Waiter, bring back the pudding!"

And there it was again in a moment—like a conjuring-trick. It was so large that she couldn't help feeling a little shy with it, as she had been with the mutton; however, she conquered her shyness by a great effort and cut a slice, handing it to President Coin.

"What impertinence," said the Pudding. "I wonder how you'd like it if I were to cut a slice out of you, you creature."

It spoke in a thick, suety sort of voice, and Prim hadn't a word to say in reply. She could only sit and look at it with a gasp.

"Make a remark," said President Coin. "It's ridiculous to leave all the conversation to the pudding."

"Do you know, I've had such a quantity of poetry repeated to me to-day," Prim began (frightened a little at finding that the moment she opened her lips, there was dead silence with all eyes fixed upon her), "and it's a very curious thing, I think, every poem was about fishes in some way. Do you know why they're so fond of fishes all about here?"

Prim turned to Red Queen, whose answer was a little wide of the mark. "As to fishes," President Coin said slowly and solemnly, putting her mouth close to Prim's ear, "her White Majesty knows a lovely riddle, all in poetry, and all about fishes. Shall she repeat it?"

"Her Red Majesty's very kind to mention it," Wiress murmured into Prim's other ear, in a voice much like the cooing of a pigeon. "It would be such a treat. May I?"

"Please do," Prim said very politely, though reluctantly.

The White Queen laughed with delight and stroked Prim's cheek. Then Wiress began:

'"First, the fish must be caught."
That is easy: a baby, I think, could have caught it.
"Next, the fish must be bought."
That is easy: a penny, I think, would have bought it.

"Now cook me the fish!"
That is easy, and will not take more than a minute.
"Let it lie in a dish!"
That is easy, because it already is in it.

"Bring it here! Let me sup!"
It is easy to set such a dish on the table.
"Take the dish-cover up!"
Ah, that is so hard that I fear I'm unable!

For it holds it like glue—
Holds the lid to the dish, while it lies in the middle:
Which is easiest to do,
Un-dish-cover the fish, or dishcover the riddle?'

"Take a minute to think about it and then guess," said President Coin. "Meanwhile, we'll drink your health. To Queen Prim's health!" she screamed at the top of her voice, and all the guests began drinking wine directly.

Very queerly they managed it as some of them put their glasses upon their heads like candle extinguishers and drank all that trickled down their faces. Others upset the decanters and drank the wine as it ran off the edges of the table. And three of them (who looked like kangaroos) scrambled into the dish of roast mutton and began eagerly lapping up the gravy.

Just like pigs in a trough! thought Prim.

"You ought to return thanks in a neat speech," President Coin said, frowning at Prim as she spoke.

"We must support you, you know," whispered Wiress as Prim obediently got up to do it, the child appearing a little frightened.

"Thank you very much," Prim whispered in reply. "But I can do quite well without."

"That wouldn't be at all the thing," President Coin said very decidedly.

So Prim tried to submit to it with a good grace. In fact, it was rather difficult for her to keep in her place while she made her speech since the two Queens pushed her so, one on each side. They nearly lifted her up into the air.

"I rise to return thanks," Prim began—and she really did rise as she spoke, several inches. But she got hold of the edge of the table and managed to pull herself down again.

"Take care of yourself!" screamed Wiress, who was seizing Prim's hair with both her hands. "Something's going to happen!"

And then all sorts of things happened in a moment. The candles all grew up to the ceiling, looking something like a bed of rushes with fireworks at the top. As to the bottles, they each took a pair of plates, which they hastily fitted on as wings, and so with forks for legs, went fluttering about in all directions.

And very like birds they look, Prim thought to herself as well as she could in the dreadful confusion that was beginning.

At this moment she heard a hoarse laugh at her side and turned to see what was the matter with the White Queen; however, now sitting at the corner of the table, opposite the White Queen, sat the White King, President Snow.

"Here I am," cried a voice from corner chair beside the Red Queen.

Prim turned again to find her sister's bodyguard, Boggs, nodding knowingly to President Coin before scooting his chair closer to the table.

The din in the room most unexpectedly faded as the space around the table became more open. The two Queens stopped pushing against Prim and took their place at the table without further word. To Prim's astonishment, the two Capitol stylists for District 11 now appeared opposite each other in the seats next to President Snow and Boggs. She then found the table absent of animal guests. People now filled the long table, a table that appeared to be growing in length to accommodate the increasing number of people, some she vaguely knew, others strangers.

An overwhelming calm came over Prim. The young girl slowly returned to her chair and said softly, "I'm never going home, am I?"