#theannotatedalice

In Carroll’s original manuscript the Mock Turtle sings a different song: Beneath the waters of the sea Are lobsters thick as thick can be— They love to dance with you and me. My own, my gentle Salmon! CHORUS

Salmon, come up! Salmon, go down! Salmon, come twist your tail around! Of all the fishes of the sea There’s none so good as Salmon! Excerpt From: Lewis Carroll. “The Annotated Alice.” --- "Will You Won't Join The Dance" Composed by Richard Hartley OST Alice In Wonderland Original TV Soundtrack

"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail, "There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail. See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! They are waiting on the shingle—will you come and join the dance?     Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?     Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?

"You can really have no notion how delightful it will be When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!" But the snail replied "Too far, too far!" and gave a look askance— Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.     Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance.     Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.

"What matters it how far we go?" his scaly friend replied, "There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. The further off from England the nearer is to France— Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.     Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?     Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?"

“The first line of this poem calls to mind the Biblical phrase “the voice of the turtle” (Song of Songs 2:12); actually it is a parody of the opening lines of “The Sluggard,” a dismal poem by Isaac Watts (see Note 5 of Chapter 2), which was well known to Carroll’s readers. ’Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain, “You have wak’d me too soon, I must slumber again.” As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed, Turns his sides and his shoulders and his heavy head. “A little more sleep, and a little more slumber;” Thus he wastes half his days, and his hours without number, And when he gets up, he sits folding his hands, Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands. I pass’d by his garden, and saw the wild brier, The thorn and the thistle grow broader and higher; The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags; And his money still wastes till he starves or he begs. I made him a visit, still hoping to find That he took better care for improving his mind: He told me his dreams, talked of eating and drinking; But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking. Said I then to my heart, “Here’s a lesson for me,” This man’s but a picture of what I might be: But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding, Who taught me betimes to love working and reading.

Song of Songs 2:11-13 English Standard Version 2016 (ESV) The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. The fig tree ripens its figs, and the vines are in blossom; they give forth fragrance. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away.