CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Alice as a Witness

"Here I am," cried Alice. Since she was so excited, she forgot how large she had grown in the last few minutes. When she jumped up in such a hurry, she caused the jury box to fall over because the edge of her skirt had caught on the box. This upset the whole jury, who were now lying about on the floor. Some members moved about, reminding Alice of the bowl of goldfish she had accidentally knocked over once before.

"Oh, I do beg your pardon," she said worriedly. She began picking them up as quickly as she could. Somehow she had been taken over by the strange idea that they must be put back in the jury box very quickly or they would die, just like her goldfish.

"We cannot go on with the trial," said the King gravely, "unless the jury is back in their correct seats." He then looked angrily at Alice.

Alice looked and saw that, because she was hurrying, she had put Bill the Lizard back in head downwards. The poor little lizard was waving his tail wildly, unable to sit up. Alice quickly pulled him out again and set him right side up.

Once the jury had gotten over the shock of being knocked over onto the floor, and their rocks and pencils had been returned, they started to write in great detail about their accident. Everyone, that is, except the Lizard. He was much too upset to do anything. He just sat with his mouth open, looking up at the ceiling of the court as if he were in a dream.

"What do you know about the tarts?" the King asked Alice.

"Nothing," said Alice, quite honestly.

"Nothing?" continued the King. He leaned forward and looked hard at her.

"Nothing at all, Your Majesty," said Alice.

"That's very important," the King noted to the jury.

The jury was trying to write this down but the White Rabbit interrupted. "Unimportant, Your Majesty means," he said respectfully. Yet he also frowned at the King and made funny faces at the same time, as if trying to tell the King something.

"That's right. I meant unimportant, of course," the King said. Then he quickly said to himself, "important, unimportant, important, unimportant." It seemed he was trying to decide which word sounded best.

This caused some of the jury to write down, "important" and others, "unimportant". Alice was able to see this since she was so close to them. "Well, I suppose it really doesn't matter," she thought to herself.

"Silence!" shouted the King. He started to read from his book, "Rule forty-two. All persons who are taller than a mile must immediately leave the court."

Everyone looked at Alice.

"But I'm not one mile high," said Alice.

"You're nearly two miles high," added the Queen.

"Well, I'm not going," said Alice, "besides, I'm sure that's not a real rule. You just made that up."

"It's the oldest rule in the book," said the King. He quickly slammed his book shut. "Think of your decision," he instructed the jury.

"But some more evidence is arriving, your Majesty," said the White Rabbit. Holding a piece of paper in his hand, he jumped up in a great hurry and said, "This paper has just been delivered."

"What's this?" asked the Queen.

"I don't know. I haven't opened it yet," said the White Rabbit, "It looks like a letter written by the prisoner to—to somebody."

"Unless of course it was written to nobody," said the King, "but that wouldn't be the usual way, you know."

"Who is it addressed to?" asked one of the jurors.

"To no one at all," said the White Rabbit. "In fact, there's nothing written on the outside of the letter." He unfolded the paper and said, "It isn't a letter! It's a poem!"

"Is it the prisoner's handwriting in the poem?" asked another juror.

"No, it isn't," said the White Rabbit. "That's why it's so strange." The jury was very puzzled at this point.

"Maybe he copied somebody else's style of handwriting," said the King. Hearing this, the jury became happy up again.

"Please, Your Majesty," said the Knave. "I didn't write it. I'm telling the truth. Besides, you can't prove that I did. There's no name signed at the end of the poem."

"If you didn't sign it," said the King, "it's because you meant to cause some trouble. Otherwise, you would have signed your name like an honest man would."

Because this was the first clever and smart thing the King had said all day, everyone in the courtroom clapped their hands loudly.

"That proves he is guilty," said the Queen, "so off with—"

"It doesn't prove anything," said Alice. "You haven't even read the poem so how could you even know what it is about."

"Read it," ordered the King.

The court was dead silent as the 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 knew 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 barrier 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."

"Well, that's certainly the most important piece of evidence we've heard today," said the King.

"There's not the slightest meaning in it," replied Alice. She had grown so large at this point that she wasn't afraid of interrupting the King any more.

The King replied, "That saves us a lot of trouble because we won't need to find any meaning in it. And yet," he continued, looking at the poem on his knee and reading the verses. "I think I see some meaning in it, after all—said I could not swim—You can't swim, can you?" he asked the Knave.

The Knave sadly shook his head, "Do I look like I can swim?" This was a good point, as the Knave was made of thick paper and really did not look like he could.

The King went on reading, "'We knew it to be true'—that would be the jury, right?—'if she should push the matter on'—that must be the Queen—'What would become of you? I gave her one, they gave him two'—Why, this is telling us what he did with the tarts after he stole them!"

"But it says 'they all returned from him to you,'" said Alice.

"And there they are in front of us," said the King, pointing to the tarts on the table. He was quite excited at his discovery. "Nothing is clearer than that. But—'before she had this fit'—you never had any fits,—my dear, did you?" he asked the Queen.

"Never!" cried the Queen. She threw an ink bottle at Bill the Lizard as she spoke. The unfortunate little Bill had stopped trying to write on his rock with his finger because he found it left no mark. He began to use the ink that was running down his face instead.

"Then the words don't describe you, dear Queen," said the King, looking around the court with a smile. But nobody else was smiling.

"It's a pun," the King angrily said, which caused everybody to laugh. "Let the jury make their decision then."

"No, no," said the Queen. "First we have the sentence, then the jury's decision afterwards."

"What nonsense," cried Alice loudly, "the idea of having the sentence first."

"Be quiet!" yelled the Queen, who was turning purple from Alice's shouting.

"I certainly will not," said Alice against the Queen's wishes.

"Off with her head," the Queen shouted, but nobody in the court moved.

"I'm not afraid of any of you," said Alice. By now she had grown to her full size. "You're nothing but a pack of cards."

Then the whole pack rose up suddenly into the air. They flew down on Alice. Screaming, Alice tried to fight them and hit them away. But instead she found herself lying on the river bank, her head in the lap of her sister. Her sister was gently brushing away some dead leaves that had fallen down from the trees upon her face.

"Do wake up, Alice, dear," said her sister. "Why, you've been asleep for ages!"

"Oh, I've just had the strangest dream," replied Alice. Then she told her sister all her strange and wonderful adventures that you have been reading about.

When she finished, her sister kissed her on the forehead and said, "It was certainly a strange dream. Now you'd better go home and get your tea. I hope it's not too late."

Alice got up and ran toward home, thinking while she ran just what a wonderful dream it had been. Down deep in her own heart, she knew that she'd remember it her whole life.

(end of section)