[later editions continued as follows
When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark,
But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.]
“That’s different from what _I_ used to say when I was a child,” said the Gryphon.
“Well, I never heard it before,” said the Mock Turtle; “but it sounds uncommon nonsense.”
Alice said nothing; she had sat down with her face in her hands, wondering if anything would _ever_ happen in a natural way again.
“I should like to have it explained,” said the Mock Turtle.
“She can’t explain it,” said the Gryphon hastily. “Go on with the next verse.”
“But about his toes?” the Mock Turtle persisted. “How _could_ he turn them out with his nose, you know?”
“It’s the first position in dancing.” Alice said; but was dreadfully puzzled by the whole thing, and longed to change the subject.
“Go on with the next verse,” the Gryphon repeated impatiently: “it begins ‘_I passed by his garden_.’”
Alice did not dare to disobey, though she felt sure it would all come wrong, and she went on in a trembling voice:—
“I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye, How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie—”
[later editions continued as follows
The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat,
While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat.
When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon,
Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon:
While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl,
And concluded the banquet—]