The auburn turned to red.

She boxed my ears this morning,
They tingled very much;
I own that I could wish her
A somewhat lighter touch;
And if you were to ask me how
Her charms might be improved,
I would not have them _added to_,
But just a few _removed_!

She has the bear's ethereal grace,
The bland hyena's laugh,
The footstep of the elephant,
The neck of the giraffe;
I love her still, believe me,
Though my heart its passion hides;
"She is all my fancy painted her,"
But oh! _how much besides_!

It was when writing for _The Train_ that he first felt the need
of a pseudonym. He suggested "Dares" (the first syllable of his
birthplace) to Edmund Yates, but, as this did not meet with his
editor's approval, he wrote again, giving a choice of four names, (1)
Edgar Cuthwellis, (2) Edgar U. C. Westhall, (3) Louis Carroll, and (4)
Lewis Carroll. The first two were formed from the letters of his two
Christian names, Charles Lutwidge; the others are merely variant forms
of those names--Lewis = Ludovicus = Lutwidge; Carroll = Carolus =
Charles. Mr. Yates chose the last, and thenceforward it became Mr.
Dodgson's ordinary _nom de plume_. The first occasion on which he
used it was, I believe, when he wrote "The Path of Roses," a poem
which appeared in _The Train_ in May, 1856.

On June 16th he again visited the Princess's Theatre. This time the
play was "A Winter's Tale," and he "especially admired the acting of
the little Mamillius, Ellen Terry, a beautiful little creature, who
played with remarkable ease and spirit."

During the Long Vacation he spent a few weeks in the English Lake
District. In spite of the rain, of which he had his full share, he
managed to see a good deal of the best scenery, and made the ascent of
Gable in the face of an icy gale, which laid him up with neuralgia for
some days. He and his companions returned to Croft by way of Barnard
Castle, as he narrates in his Diary:--

We set out by coach for Barnard Castle at about seven, and
passed over about forty miles of the dreariest hill-country
I ever saw; the climax of wretchedness was reached in Bowes,
where yet stands the original of "Dotheboys Hall"; it has
long ceased to be used as a school, and is falling into
ruin, in which the whole place seems to be following its
example--the roofs are falling in, and the windows broken or
ba