THERE!" cried Alice, quite forgetting in the
flurry of the moment how large she had grown in the last few minutes, and
she jumped up in such a hurry that she tipped over the jury-box with the
edge of her skirt, upsetting all the jurymen on to the heads of the crowd
below, and there they lay sprawling about, reminding her very much of a
globe of gold-fish she had accidentally upset the week before.
"Oh, I beg your pardon!" she exclaimed in a tone of great dismay, and began picking them up again as quickly as she could, for the accident of the gold-fish kept running in her head, and she had a vague sort of idea that they must be collected at once and put back into the jury-box, or they would die.
"The trial cannot proceed," said
the King in a very grave voice, "until all the jurymen are back in
their proper places—all," he repeated with great emphasis, looking hard
at Alice as he said so.
Alice looked at the
jury-box, and saw that, in her haste, she had put the Lizard in head
downwards, and the poor little thing was waving its tail about in a
melancholy way, being quite unable to move. She soon got it out again, and
put it right; "not that it signifies much," she said to herself;
"I should think it would be quite as much use in the trial one way up
as the other."
As soon as the jury had a
little recovered from the shock of being upset, and their slates and pencils
had been found and handed back to them, they set to work very diligently to
write out a history of the accident, all except the Lizard, who seemed too
much overcome to do anything but sit with its mouth open, gazing up into the
roof of the court.
"What do you know about
this business?" the King said to Alice.
persisted the King.
"Nothing whatever," said Alice.
"That's very important," the King
said, turning to the jury. They were just beginning to write this down on
their slates, when the White Rabbit interrupted: "Unimportant, your
Majesty means, of course," he said in a very respectful tone, but
frowning and making faces at him as he spoke.
of course, I meant," the King hastily said, and went on himself in an
undertone, "important—unimportant—unimportant—important——" as if
he were trying which word sounded best.
the jury wrote it down "important," and some "unimportant."
Alice could see this, as she was near enough to look over their slates;
"but it doesn't matter a bit," she thought to herself.
this moment the King, who had been for some time busily writing in his
note-book, called out "Silence!" and read out from his book,
"Rule Forty-two. All persons more than a mile high to leave the court."
looked at Alice.
"I'm not a mile high,"
"You are," said the King.
two miles high," added the Queen.
I sha'n't go, at any rate," said Alice: "besides, that's not a
regular rule: you invented it just now."
the oldest rule in the book," said the King.
it ought to be Number One," said Alice.
King turned pale, and shut his note-book hastily. "Consider your
verdict," he said to the jury, in a low trembling voice.
more evidence to come yet, please your Majesty," said the White Rabbit,
jumping up in a great hurry: "this paper has just been picked up."
in it?" said the Queen.
opened it yet," said the White Rabbit, "but it seems to be a
letter, written by the prisoner to—to somebody."
must have been that," said the King, "unless it was written to
nobody, which isn't usual, you know."
is it directed to?" said one of the jurymen.
isn't directed at all," said the White Rabbit; "in fact, there's
nothing written on the outside." He unfolded the paper as he spoke, and
added "It isn't a letter after all: it's a set of verses."
they in the prisoner's handwriting?" asked another of the jurymen.
they're not," said the White Rabbit, "and that's the queerest
thing about it." (The jury all looked puzzled.)
must have imitated somebody else's hand," said the King. (The jury all
brightened up again.)
Majesty," said the Knave, "I didn't write it, and they can't prove
that I did: there's no name signed at the end."
you didn't sign it," said the King, "that only makes the matter
worse. You must have meant some mischief, or else you'd have signed your
name like an honest man."
There was a
general clapping of hands at this: it was the first really clever thing the
King had said that day.
"That proves his
guilt, of course," said the Queen: "so, off with——"
doesn't prove anything of the sort!" said Alice. "Why, you don't
even know what they're about!"
"Read them," said the King.
The White Rabbit put on his
spectacles. "Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?" he asked.
at the beginning," the King said gravely, "and go on till you come
to the end; then stop."
There was dead
silence in the court, whilst the White Rabbit read out these verses:—
told me you had been to her,
And mentioned me to him:
She gave me a good character,
But said I could not swim.
sent them word I had not gone,
(We know it to be true):
If she should push the matter on,
What would become of you?
gave her one, they gave him two,
You gave us three or more;
They all returned from him to you,
Though they were mine before.
I or she should chance to be
Involved in this affair,
He trusts to you to set them free,
Exactly as we were.
notion was that you had been
(Before she had this fit)
An obstacle that came between
Him, and ourselves, and it.
let him know she liked them best,
For this must ever be
A secret, kept from all the rest,
Between yourself and me."
"That's the most important piece of evidence we've heard yet," said the King, rubbing his hands; "so now let the jury——"
any of them can explain it," said Alice, (she had grown so large in the
last few minutes that she wasn't a bit afraid of interrupting him,) "I'll
give him sixpence. I don't believe there's an atom of meaning in it."
jury all wrote down on their slates, "She doesn't believe there's an
atom of meaning in it," but none of them attempted to explain the
"If there's no meaning in it,"
said the King, "that saves a world of trouble, you know, as we needn't
try to find any. And yet I don't know," he went on, spreading out the
verses on his knee, and looking at them with one eye; "I seem to see
some meaning in them after all. '——said I could not swim—' you can't swim
can you?" he added, turning to the Knave.
Knave shook his head sadly. "Do I look like it?" he said. (Which
he certainly did not, being made entirely of cardboard.)
"All right, so far," said the King, as he went on muttering over the verses to himself: "'We know it to be true—' that's the jury, of course—'If she should push the matter on'—that must be the Queen—'What would become of you?'—What, indeed!—'I gave her one, they gave him two—' why, that must be what he did with the tarts, you know——"
goes on 'they all returned from him to you,'" said Alice.
there they are!" said the King triumphantly, pointing to the tarts on
the table. "Nothing can be clearer than that. Then again—'before she
had this fit—' you never had fits, my dear, I think?" he said to the
"Never!" said the Queen furiously, throwing an inkstand at the Lizard as she spoke. (The unfortunate little Bill had left off writing on his slate with one finger, as he found it made no mark; but he now hastily began again, using the ink, that was trickling down his face, as long as it lasted.)
"Then the words don't fit you,"
said the King, looking round the court with a smile. There was a dead
"It's a pun!" the King added
in an angry tone, and everybody laughed.
the jury consider their verdict," the King said, for about the
twentieth time that day.
said the Queen. "Sentence first—verdict afterwards."
and nonsense!" said Alice loudly. "The idea of having the sentence
"Hold your tongue!" said
the Queen, turning purple.
"Off with her head!" the
Queen shouted at the top of her voice. Nobody moved.
cares for you?" said Alice (she had grown to her full size by this
time). "You're nothing but a pack of cards!"
this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came flying down upon her: she
gave a little scream, half of fright and half of anger, and tried to beat
them off, and found herself lying on the bank, with her head in the lap of
her sister, who was gently brushing away some dead leaves that had fluttered
down from the trees upon her face.
up, Alice dear!" said her sister. "Why, what a long sleep you've
"Oh, I've had such a curious
dream!" said Alice, and she told her sister, as well as she could
remember them, all these strange Adventures of hers that you have just been
reading about; and when she had finished, her sister kissed her, and said
"It was a curious dream, dear, certainly: but now run in to your tea;
it's getting late." So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she
ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been.
her sister sat still just as she had left her, leaning her head, watching
the setting sun, and thinking of little Alice and all her wonderful
Adventures, till she too began dreaming after a fashion, and this was her
First, she dreamed of little Alice herself, and once again the tiny hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes were looking up into hers—she could hear the very tones of her voice, and see that queer little toss of her head to keep back the wandering hair that would always get into her eyes—and still as she listened, or seemed to listen, the whole place around her became alive with the strange creatures of her little sister's dream.
The long grass
rustled at her feet as the White Rabbit hurried by—the frightened Mouse
splashed his way through the neighbouring pool—she could hear the rattle of
the teacups as the March Hare and his friends shared their never-ending
meal, and the shrill voice of the Queen ordering off her unfortunate guests
to execution—once more the pig-baby was sneezing on the Duchess' knee, while
plates and dishes crashed around it—once more the shriek of the Gryphon, the
squeaking of the Lizard's slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed
guinea-pigs, filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable
So she sat on with closed eyes,
and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open
them again, and all would change to dull reality—the grass would be only
rustling in the wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the reeds—the
rattling teacups would change to the tinkling sheep-bells, and the Queen's
shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd boy—and the sneeze of the baby,
the shriek of the Gryphon, and all the other queer noises, would change (she
knew) to the confused clamour of the busy farm-yard—while the lowing of the
cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle's heavy sobs.
Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.