Haddocks' Eyes facts for kids

Illustration by John Tenniel

"Haddocks' Eyes" is a funny song from Lewis Carroll's famous book Through the Looking-Glass, published in 1871. It's sung by a character called The White Knight in Chapter 8. The song is known for its silly lyrics and the very confusing way the White Knight explains its name!

What is "Haddocks' Eyes"?

This song is a great example of how words can be tricky. It shows how a "name" can be used in many ways. Sometimes a name identifies something, but sometimes a name is just what another name is called! This idea has been talked about by thinkers in logic and philosophy.

A Confusing Name Game

The White Knight tries to explain the song's name to Alice, but he makes it very confusing! He uses many different "names" for the same song. Alice gets very puzzled by his explanation.

Here's how the White Knight explains it:

• The song's name is called Haddocks' Eyes.
• But the song's real name is The Aged Aged Man.
• Then, the song is called Ways and Means.
• And the song itself is A-sitting on a Gate.

It's like saying your nickname is "Speedy," but your real name is "Michael." Then, your friends call your favorite game "The Race," but the game itself is "Mario Kart." It's all very mixed up!

The Song's Story

The White Knight sings the song to a tune he says he made up. But Alice quickly realizes it's a tune she already knows, called "I give thee all, I can no more". Alice was already quite tired of listening to poems that day!

The song is a funny copy, or parody, of a poem called "Resolution and Independence" by William Wordsworth. It makes fun of the story of that poem, but not the way it sounds or its rhythm.

The Poem: "A-sitting on a Gate"

I'll tell thee everything I can:

    There's little to relate.

I saw an aged aged man,

    A-sitting on a gate.

"Who are you, aged man?" I said,

    "And how is it you live?"

And his answer trickled through my head,

    Like water through a sieve.

He said "I look for butterflies

    That sleep among the wheat:

I make them into mutton-pies,

    And sell them in the street.

I sell them unto men," he said,

    "Who sail on stormy seas;

And that's the way I get my bread –

    A trifle, if you please."

But I was thinking of a plan

    To dye one's whiskers green,

And always use so large a fan

    That they could not be seen.

So, having no reply to give

    To what the old man said,

I cried "Come, tell me how you live!"

    And thumped him on the head.

His accents mild took up the tale:

He said "I go my ways,

And when I find a mountain-rill,

    I set it in a blaze;

And thence they make a stuff they call

    Rowlands' Macassar-Oil –

Yet twopence-halfpenny is all

    They give me for my toil."

But I was thinking of a way

    To feed oneself on batter,

And so go on from day to day

    Getting a little fatter.

I shook him well from side to side,

    Until his face was blue:

"Come, tell me how you live," I cried,

    "And what it is you do!"

He said "I hunt for haddocks' eyes

    Among the heather bright,

And work them into waistcoat-buttons

    In the silent night.

And these I do not sell for gold

    Or coin of silvery shine,

But for a copper halfpenny,

    And that will purchase nine.

"I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,

    Or set limed twigs for crabs:

I sometimes search the grassy knolls

    For wheels of Hansom-cabs.

And that's the way" (he gave a wink)

    "By which I get my wealth--

And very gladly will I drink

    Your Honour's noble health."

I heard him then, for I had just

    Completed my design

To keep the Menai bridge from rust

    By boiling it in wine.

I thanked him much for telling me

    The way he got his wealth,

But chiefly for his wish that he

    Might drink my noble health.

And now, if e'er by chance I put

    My fingers into glue,

Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot

    Into a left-hand shoe,

Or if I drop upon my toe

    A very heavy weight,

I weep, for it reminds me so

Of that old man I used to know--

Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow

Whose hair was whiter than the snow,

Whose face was very like a crow,

With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,

Who seemed distracted with his woe,

Who rocked his body to and fro,

And muttered mumblingly and low,

As if his mouth were full of dough,

Who snorted like a buffalo--

That summer evening long ago,

    A-sitting on a gate.

An Earlier Version: "Upon the Lonely Moor"

Like "Jabberwocky," another famous poem in Through the Looking Glass, "Haddocks' Eyes" was changed and improved over many years. In 1856, Lewis Carroll first published a poem called Upon the Lonely Moor. It was published anonymously, meaning no one knew who wrote it at the time. This earlier poem is very similar to "Haddocks' Eyes."

The Poem: "Upon the Lonely Moor"

I met an aged, aged man

Upon the lonely moor:

I knew I was a gentleman,

And he was but a boor.

So I stopped and roughly questioned him,

"Come, tell me how you live!"

But his words impressed my ear no more

Than if it were a sieve.

He said, "I look for soap-bubbles,

That lie among the wheat,

And bake them into mutton-pies,

And sell them in the street.

I sell them unto men," he said,

"Who sail on stormy seas;

And that's the way I get my bread –

A trifle, if you please."

But I was thinking of a way

To multiply by ten,

And always, in the answer, get

The question back again.

I did not hear a word he said,

But kicked that old man calm,

And said, "Come, tell me how you live!"

And pinched him in the arm.

His accents mild took up the tale:

He said, "I go my ways,

And when I find a mountain-rill,

I set it in a blaze.

And thence they make a stuff they call

Rowland's Macassar Oil;

But fourpence-halfpenny is all

They give me for my toil."

But I was thinking of a plan

To paint one's gaiters green,

So much the color of the grass

That they could ne'er be seen.

I gave his ear a sudden box,

And questioned him again,

And tweaked his grey and reverend locks,

And put him into pain.

He said, "I hunt for haddock's eyes

Among the heather bright,

And work them into waistcoat-buttons

In the silent night.

And these I do not sell for gold,

Or coin or silver-mine,

But for a copper-halfpenny,

And that will purchase nine.

"I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,

Or set limed twigs for crabs;

I sometimes search the flowery knolls

For wheels of hansom cabs.

And that's the way" (he gave a wink)

"I get my living here,

And very gladly will I drink

Your Honour's health in beer."

I heard him then, for I had just

Completed my design

To keep the Menai bridge from rust

By boiling it in wine.

I duly thanked him, ere I went,

For all his stories queer,

But chiefly for his kind intent

To drink my health in beer.

And now if e'er by chance I put

My fingers into glue,

Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot

Into a left-hand shoe;

Or if a statement I aver

Of which I am not sure,

I think of that strange wanderer

Upon the lonely moor.