《Alice's Adventures In Wonderland》CHAPTER12

《Alice's Adventures In Wonderland》　CHAPTER12
　　　　by Lewis Carroll

`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 fro m 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,' saidthe 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 they
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, 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 WOULD always get into her eyes--and still as she listened, or
seemed to listen, the whole place around her became alive 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's 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 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 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 thy 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.