Ch. Ch. Oxford
May 29, 1869
My dear Isabel,
I was so sorry to hear from Miss Lloyd of your not
being well, and I hope you will not think of writing to me about 'Alice' till
you are well enough to do so. I only write this on the chance of your being in
the humour to read it, or to have it read to you. When you are in that state, I
should like you to know the real reason of my having carried off your
railway-ticket. You will guess by this, of course, that my last letter was a
hoax. Well, you told me, you know, that it was your first railway-journey alone:
naturally that set me thinking, "Now what can I do to give her a really
exciting adventure?"
Now three plans
occurred to me. The first was to wait till the train had started from Reading,
and then fire a pistol through your carriage-window, so that the bullet might
go near your head and startle you a little. But there were two objections to
this plan—one, that I hadn’t got a loaded pistol with me, the other, that the
bullet might have gone in at a wrong window, and some people are so stupid,
they might not have taken it as a joke.
The second plan
was to give you, just as the train left Reading, what should look like a
Banbury-cake, but should afterwards turn out to be a rattlesnake. The only
objection to this plan was, that they didn’t keep that kind at Reading. They
had only common Banbury-cakes, which wouldn’t have done at all.
The third plan
was to keep the ticket, so that you might be alarmed when you got to London. Of
course I arranged thoroughly with the Guard that the thing was not to be
overdone. He was to look a little stern at first, and then gradually to let his
expressive features kindle into a smile of benevolence. I was very particular
on this point and almost my last words to him were, "Are you sure you can
manage the benevolence?" and I made him practice it several times on the
platform before I would let him go.
Now you know my
whole plan for making your journey a real Adventure. I only hope it succeeded.
So, hoping much to hear you are better again, I remain very truly yours,
C. L. Dodgson
P.S. I must tell you
candidly that the whole of this letter is a hoax, and that my real reason
was—to be able to make you a nice little portable present. Friends suggested a
corkscrew, a work-box, or a harmonium: but, as I cleverly remarked, "These
are all very well in their way, but you can only use them sometimes—whereas a
railway ticket is always handy!" Have I chosen well?
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