Alice in Blunderland: An Iridescent Dream. Bangs John Kendrick

whole, which ruined his digestion, or go without, which wasn't fair.

      "I see," said Alice.

      "So it occurred to Mr. Alderman March Hare here," continued the Hatter, "that we should legislate in the matter, and at our last session we passed a law providing for the Municipal Ownership of Teeth, so that now when a toothless wanderer wants a hickory nut cracked he has a perfectly legal right to stop anybody in the street who has teeth and make him crack the nut for him. Of course we've had a little trouble enforcing the law – alleged private rights are always difficult to get around. Long-continued possession has seemed so to convince people that they have inherent rights to the things they have enjoyed, that they put up a fight and appeal to the Constitution and all that, and even when you mention the fact, as I did in a case that came up the other day (when a man refused to bite on another chap's cigar for him), that the Constitution doesn't mention teeth anywhere in all its classes, they are not easy to convince. This fellow insisted that his teeth were private property, and no city law should make them public property. He's going to take it to the Supreme Court. Meanwhile his teeth are in the custody of the sheriff.

      "And what has become of the man?" asked Alice.

      "He's in the custody of the sheriff too," said the Hatter. "We couldn't arrange it any other way except by pulling his teeth, and he didn't want that."

      "I can't blame him," said Alice reflectively. "I should hate to have my teeth taken away from me."

      "O there's no obfuscation about it," said the Hatter.

      "Confuscation," corrected the March Hare. "I wish you would get that word right. It's too important to fool with."

      "Thank you," replied the Hatter. "My mind is on higher things than mere words. However, as I was saying, there is no cobfuscation about it. We don't take a man's teeth away from him without compensation. We pay him what the teeth are worth and place them at the service of the whole community.

      "Where do you get the money to pay him?" asked Alice.

      "We give him a Municipal Bond," explained the Hatter. "It's a ten per cent. bond costing two cents to print. When he cracks a hickory nut for the public, the man he cracks it for pays him a cent. He rings this up on a cash register he carries pinned to his vest, and at the end of every week turns in the cash to the City Treasury. That money is used to pay the interest on the bonds. The scheme has the additional advantage that it makes a man's teeth negotiable property in the sense that whereas under the old system he couldn't very well sell his teeth, under the new system he can sell the bond if he gets hard up. Moreover, the City Government having acquired control has to pay all his dentist's bills, supply tooth powder and so on, which results in a great saving to the individual. It hardly costs the city anything, except for the Tooth Inspector, who is paid $1,200 a year, but we can handle that easily enough, provided the people will use the Public Teeth in sufficiently large numbers to bring in dividends. Anyhow, we have gone in for it, and I see no reason why it should not work as well as any other Municipal Ownership scheme."

      "I should love to go and see your city," said Alice, who, though not quite convinced as to the desirability of the Municipal Ownership of Teeth, was nevertheless very much interested.

      "Very well," said the Hatter. "We can go at once, for I see the train is already standing in the Station."

      "The Station?" cried Alice. "What Station?"

      But before the Hatter could answer, Alice, glancing through the window, caught sight of a very beautiful train standing before the veranda, and in a moment she found herself stepping on board with her friends, while a soft-spoken guard at the door was handing her an engraved card upon a silver salver "Respectfully Inviting Miss Alice to Step Lively There."

      CHAPTER II

      THE IMMOVABLE TROLLEY

      "What an extraordinary car," said Alice, as she stepped into the brilliantly lighted vehicle. "It doesn't seem to have any end to it," she added as she passed down the aisle, looking for the front platform.

      "It hasn't," said the Hatter. "It just runs on forever."

      "Doesn't it stop anywhere?" cried Alice in amazement.

      "It stops everywhere," said the Hatter. "What I mean is it hasn't any ends at all. It's just one big circular car that runs all around the city and joins itself where it began in the beginning. We call it the M. O. Express, M. O. standing for Municipal Ownership – "

      "And Money Owed," laughed a Weasel that sat on the other side of the car.

      "Put that fellow off," said the March Hare indignantly. "Conductor – out with him."

      The Conductor immediately threw the Weasel out of the window, as ordered, and the Hatter resumed.

      "We call it the express because it is so fast," he continued.

      "You'd hardly think it was going at all," observed Alice, as she noticed the entire lack of motion in the car.

      "It isn't," said the Hatter. "It's built on a solid foundation and doesn't move an inch, and yet at the same time it runs all around the city. It was my idea," he added proudly.

      "But you said it was fast," protested Alice.

      "And so it is, my child," said the Hatter kindly. "It's as fast as though it was glued down with mucilage. There's several ways of being fast, you know. Did you ever hear of the Ballade of the Nancy P. D. Q.?"

      "No," said Alice.

      "It's a Sea Song in B flat," said the Hatter. "I will sing it for you."

      And placing his hat before his lips to give a greater mellowness to his voice, the Hatter sang:

THE BALLADE OF THE NANCY P. D. Q

      O the good ship Nancy P. D. Q.

      From up in Boston, Mass.,

      Went sailing o'er the bounding blue

      Cargoed with apple sass.

      She sailed around Ogunkit Bay

      Down past the Banks of Quogue,

      And on a brilliant summer's day,

      Just off the coast of Mandelay,

      She landed in a fog.

      So brace the topsails close, my lads,

      And stow your grog, my crew,

      For the waves are steep and the fog is deep

      Round the Nancy P. D. Q.

      As in the fog she groped around —

      The night was black as soot —

      She ran against Long Island Sound,

      Out where the codfish toot.

      And when the moon rose o'er the scene

      So smiling, sweet and bland,

      She poked her nose so sharp and keen —

      'Twas freshly painted olive green —

      Deep in a bar of sand.

      So splice the garboard strakes, my lads,

      And reef the starboard screw —

      For it sticks like tar, that sandy bar,

      To the Nancy P. D. Q.

      O the Skipper swore with a "Yeave-ho-ho!"

      And the crew replied "Hi-hi!"

      And then, with a cheerful "Heave-ho-yo,"

      They pumped the bowsprit dry.

      "Three cheers!" the Mate cried with a sneeze

      "Hurrah for this old boat!

      She sails two knots before the breeze,

      But on the bar, by Jingo, she's

      The fastest thing afloat!"

      So up with the gallant flag, my lads,

      With a hip-hip-hip-hooroo,

      For the liner fast is now outclassed

      By