'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 goldfish 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 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--

ALL,' he repeated with great emphasis,

looking hard at Alice as he said do.

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.

'Nothing,' said Alice.

'Nothing 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--unimportant--

important--' as if he were trying which

word sounded best.

Some of 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.

At this moment the King, who had been for

some time busily writing in his note-book,

cackled out 'Silence!' and read out from

his book, 'Rule Forty-two.

ALL PERSONS MORE THAN A MILE HIGH TO LEAVE

THE COURT.'

Everybody looked at Alice.

'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 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,' said 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 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,' 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 beginning,' the King said

gravely, 'and go on till you come to the

end: then stop.'

These were the verses the White Rabbit

read:--

| 'They told me you had been to her,

| And mentioned me to him:

| She gave me a good character,

| But said I could not swim.

| He 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?

| I 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.

| If I or she should chance to be

| Involved in this affair,

| He trusts to you to set them free,

| Exactly as we were.

| My notion was that you had been

| (Before she had this fit)

| An obstacle that came between

| Him, and ourselves, and it.

| Don't 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--'

'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 sixpence.

_I_ don't believe there's an atom of

meaning in it.'

The 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 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.

"--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 NOT, being made

entirely of cardboard.)

'All right, so far,' said the King, and he

went on muttering over the verses to

himself: '"WE KNOW IT TO BE TRUE--" that's

the jury, of course--"I GAVE HER ONE, THEY

GAVE HIM TWO--" why, that must be what he

did with the tarts, you know--'

'But, it goes on "THEY ALL RETURNED FROM

HIM TO YOU,"' said Alice.

'Why, 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 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 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 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 first--verdict 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 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.

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,