XII
Alice's Evidence
"Here!" 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 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
goldfish 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--i{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 i{quite} as much use in the trial on
way up as the other."
As soon as the jury had a little recovered fro
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 to
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.
"Nothing," said Alice.
"Nothing i{whatever?"} 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.
"Unimportant, of course, I meant," the King
hastily said, and went on to himself in an
undertone, "important--unimportant--important---
as if he were trying which word sounded best.
Some of the jury wrote it down "important," an
some "unimportant." Alice could see this, as she
was near enough to look over their slates; "but
doesn't matter a bit," she thought to herself.
At 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. i{All persons more than a mile high to}
i{leave the court."}
Everybody looked at Alice.
i{"I'm} not a mile high," said Alice.
"You are," said the King.
"Nearly two miles high," added the Queen.
"Well, I shan't go, at any rate," said Alice: "
besides, that's not a regular rule: you invented it just
now"
"It's the oldest rule in the book," said the King.
"Then it ought to be Number One," said Alice.
The King turned pale, and shut his note-book
hastily.
"Consider your verdict," he said to the jury, in a
low trembling voice.
"There's 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."
"What's in it?" said the Queen.
"I haven't opened it yet," said the White Rabbit,
but it seems to be a letter, written by the prisoner
to--to somebody."
"It must have been that," said the King, "unless it
was written to nobody, which isn't usual, you know."
"Who is it directed to?" said one of the jurymen.
"It isn't directed at all," said the White Rabbit;
in fact, there's nothing written on the i{outside."}
He unfolded the paper as he spoke, and added,
It isn't a letter, after all: it's a set of verses.
"Are they in the prisoner's handwriting?" asked
another of the jurymen.
"No, they're not, said the White Rabbit, "and
that's the queerest thing about it." (The jury all
looked puzzled.)
"He must have imitated somebody else's hand,"
aid the King. (The jury all brightened up again.)
"Please your Majesty," said the Knave, "I didn't
write it, and they can't prove I did: there's no
name signed at the end."
"If you didn't sign it," said the King, "that only
makes the matter worse. You i{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
as the first really clever thing the King had said
that day.
"That i{proves} his guilt," said the Queen.
"It proves nothing 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.
"Begin at the begininng," the King said gravely,
"and go on till you come to the end: then stop."
These were the verses the White Rabbit read:i{"They told me you had been to her,}
i{And mentioned me to him:}
i{And gave me a good character,}
i{But said I could not swim.}
i{He sent them word I had not gone}
i{(We know it to be true):}
i{If she should push the matter on,}
i{What would become of you?}
i{I gave her one, they gave him two,}
i{You gave us three or more;}
i{They all returned from him to you,}
i{Though they were mine before.}
i{If I or she should chance to be}
i{Involved in this affair,}
i{He trusts to you to set them free,}
i{Exactly as we were.}
i{My notion was that you had been}
i{(Before she had this fit)}
i{An obstacle that came between}
i{Him, and ourselves, and it.}
i{Don't let him know she liked them best,}
i{For this must ever be}
i{A secret, kept from all the rest,}
i{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---"
"If any one 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 sizpence. i{I} don't believe there's an atom
of meaning in it."
The jury all wrote down on their slates, i{"She}
doesn't believe there's an atom of meaning in it,"
but none of them attempted to explain the paper.
"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. '--i{said I could not swim--'} you
can't swim, can you?" he added, turning to the
Knave.
The Knave shook his head sadly. "Do I look
like it?" he said. (Which he certainly did i{not,} being
made entirely of cardboard.)
"All right, so far," said the King, and he went on
muttering over the verses to himself: "i{We know it}
i{to be true--'} that's the jury, of course--"i{I gave her}
i{one, they gave him two--'} why, that must be what
he did with the tarts, you know---"
"But it goes on i{"they all returned from him to}
i{you,'"} said Alice.
"Why, there they are!" said the King
triumphantly, pointing to the tarts on the table. "Nothing
can be clearer than i{that.} Then again--i{"before she}
i{had this fit--'} you never had fits, my dear, I think?"
he said to the Queen.
"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 h '
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
silence.
"It's a pun!" the King added in an offended tone,
and everybody laughed.
"Let the jury consider their verdict," the King
said, for about the twentieth time that day.
"No, no!" said the Queen. "Sentence firstverdict afterwards."
"Stuff and nonsense!" said Alice loudly. "The
idea of having the sentence first!"
"Hold your tongue!" said the Queen, turning
purple.
"I won't!" said Alice.
"Off with her head!" the Queen shouted at the
top of her voice. Nobody moved.
"Who cares for you?" said Alice (she had grown
to her full size by this time). "You're nothing but a
pack of cards!"
At 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.
"Wake up, Alice dear!" said her sister. "Why,
what a long sleep you've had!"
"Oh, I've had such a curious dream!" said Alice,
and she told her sister, as well as she could
reember 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,
that i{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.
But her sister sat still just as she left her, leaning
her head on her hand, 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 dream: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 i{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
ear 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
slatepencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea-
pigs, filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of
the miserable Mock Turtle.
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 he
other little children, and make i{their} eyes bright and
eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even wit
the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she
would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find
pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her
own child-life, and the happy summer days.
