1. Yes, she liked them, especially big insects.
2. Yes, she liked them, because they could talk.
3. No, she didn’t like them, because she was afraid of them.
4. No, she didn’t like them, because they could talk.
4. Why couldn’t Alice and the Fawn remember their names?
1. They had no names at all.
2. They had a vey bad memory.
3. Somebody stole their names.
4. They were in the wood, where all the things had no names.
5. Find the right statement:
1. Alice was happy when the Fawn ran away, because it was very ugly.
2. The Fawn was afraid of Alice and ran away.
3. The Fawn wasn’t afraid of Alice and it helped Alice to remember her name.
4. Alice was sad when the Fawn ran away, because she didn’t know her name.
6. Was it easy to find a way out of the wood?
1. Yes, it was. There was only one road in the wood.
2. Yes, it was. There were a lot of finger-points in the wood.
3. No, it wasn’t. There were a lot of twisting roads in the wood.
4. No, it wasn’t. Nobody wanted to help Alice.
7. Insert the right prepositions:
in, at, next to, to, for
1. Alice was silent …… a minute or two.
2. It looked …… Alice with its large gentle eyes.
3. A Goat was sitting …… the gentleman …… white.
4. ‘I certainly won’t go back’, she thought to herself, and this was the only way …… the Eighth Square.
8. Complete the table:
Chapter 4
Tweedledum and Tweedledee
They were standing under a tree, each with an arm round the other’s neck. Alice knew which was which, because one of them had “dum” on his collar, and the other “dee”. “I think they’ve got “Tweedle” at the back of the collar,” she said to herself. She wanted to look if the word “Tweedle” was written at the back of each collar, when one, who had “dum”, said, “If you think we’re statues made of wax, you should pay!”
“And,” added the one, who had “dee”, “if you think we’re alive, you should speak.”
“I’m very sorry,” said Alice. The words of the old song kept ringing through her head like the ticking of a clock:
Tweedledum and Tweedledee Agreed to have a battle; For Tweedledum said Tweedledee Had spoiled his nice new rattle. Just then flew down a monstrous crow, As black as a tar-barrel; Which frightened both the heroes so, They quite forgot their quarrel.
“I know what you’re thinking about,” said Tweedledum. “But it isn’t so.”
“I was thinking,” Alice said very politely, “which is the best way out of this wood. It’s getting dark. Could you tell me, please?”
But the fat little men only looked at each other and grinned.
“You are wrong!” cried Tweedledum. “The first thing you should do is to say ‘How do you do?’ and shake hands[26]!”
And the two brothers gave each other a hug, and then they raised the two hands that were free to shake hands with Alice.
Alice took both hands at once: the next moment they were dancing in a ring. After they stopped, Alice asked: “I hope you’re not tired?”
“No. And thank you for asking,” said Tweedledum.
“Do you like poetry?” asked Tweedledee.
“Yes … I like poetry,” Alice said. “But could you tell me which road leads out of the wood?”
But Tweedledee began:
“The sun was shining …”
Alice interrupted him. “If it’s very long,” she said, “would you please tell me which road …”
But Tweedledee smiled, and began again:
“The sun was shining on the sea, Shining with all his might: He did his very best to make The billows smooth and bright— And this was odd, because it was The middle of the night. The Walrus and the Carpenter Were walking close at hand; They wept like anything to see Such quantities of sand: “If this were only cleared away,” They said, “it would be grand!” “O Oysters, come and walk with us!” The Walrus did beseech. “A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk, Along the briny beach: We cannot do with more than four, To give a hand to each.” And four young Oysters hurried up, All eager for the treat: Their coats were brushed, their faces washed, Their shoes were clean and neat— And this was odd, because, you know, They hadn’t any feet. Four other Oysters followed them, And yet another four; And thick and fast they came at last, And more, and more, and more— All hopping through the frothy waves, And scrambling to the shore. The Walrus and the Carpenter Walked on a mile or so, And then they rested on a rock Conveniently low: And all the little Oysters stood And waited in a row. “The time has come,” the Walrus said, “To talk of many things: Of shoes—and ships— and sealing-wax — Of cabbages—and kings — And why the sea is boiling hot — And whether pigs have wings.” “But wait a bit,” the Oysters cried, “Before we have our chat; For some of us are out of breath, And all of us are fat!” “No hurry!” said the Carpenter. They thanked him much for that. “A loaf of bread,” the Walrus said, “Is what we chiefly need: Pepper and vinegar besides Are very good indeed — Now if you’re ready, Oysters dear, We can begin to feed.” “But not on us!” the Oysters cried, Turning a little blue. “After such kindness, that would be A dismal thing to do!” “The night is fine,” the Walrus said. “Do you admire the view?” “It was so kind of you to come! And you are very nice!” The Carpenter said nothing but “Cut us another slice: I wish you were not quite so deaf— I’ve had to ask you twice!” “It seems a shame,” the Walrus said, “To play them such a trick, After we’ve brought them out so far, And made them trot so quick!” The Carpenter said nothing but “The butter’s spread too thick!” “I weep for you,” the Walrus said: “I deeply sympathize.” With sobs and tears he sorted out Those of the largest size, Holding his pocket-handkerchief Before his streaming eyes. “O Oysters,” said the Carpenter, “You’ve had a pleasant run! Shall we be trotting home again?” But answer came there none — And this was scarcely odd, because They’d eaten every one.”