Chapter XII

Alice’s Evidence

“Here!” cried Alice, but she forgot how large she was, and jumped up. The edge of her skirt tipped the jury box and turned them all out on the heads of the crowd below.

“Oh, I beg your pardon!” she exclaimed in a tone of great dismay, and began to pick them up again.

“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 force and looked hard at Alice.

Alice looked at the jury-box, and saw that, in her haste, she put the Lizard in head downwards, and the poor little Lizard was waving its tail in the air, but could not move. She soon got it out again, and put it right; “there’s no big difference,” she said to herself.

“What do you know about this business?” the King said to Alice.

“Nothing,” said Alice.

“Nothing at all?” persisted the King.

“Nothing at all,” said Alice.

“That’s very important,” the King said, and turned to the jury. They were just beginning to write this down, when the White Rabbit interrupted: “UNimportant, your Majesty means, of course,” he said in a very respectful tone.

“UNimportant, of course, I meant,” the King hastily said, and went on, “important—unimportant—unimportant—important.”

He was trying which word sounded best.

Some of the jury wrote it down “important,” and some “unimportant.” Alice could see this, she was near enough.

At this moment the King cried 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,” 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.

“Why is it not Number One?” said Alice.

The King turned pale, and shut his note-book hastily.

“Consider your verdict,” he said to the jury. His voice was low and trembling.

“There’s something more, please your Majesty,” said the White Rabbit. He was jumping up; “this letter!”

“What’s in it?” said the Queen.

“I did not open it,” said the White Rabbit, “but I think this is the letter which the Knave of Hearts wrote to—to somebody.”

“Exactly,” said the King, “unless it was written to nobody, which isn’t usual, you know.”

“Whose name is on it?” said one of the jurymen.

“There’s no name on it,” said the White Rabbit, as he looked at the letter; “in fact, it’s a rhyme.’

“Is the handwriting the prisoner’s?” asked another of the jurymen.

“No, it’s not,” said the White Rabbit, “and that’s the queerest thing.”

“He imitated somebody else’s handwriting,” said the King.

“Please your Majesty,” said the Knave, “I didn’t write it, and they can’t prove I did. There’s no name at the end.”

“If you didn’t sign it,” said the King, “that only makes your case worse. Honest men always sign their letters.”

“That proves his guilt,” said the Queen.

“It proves nothing!” said Alice. “Why, you don’t even know what the rhyme is about!”

“Read it,” 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.”

The White Rabbit read:

 

“They told me

$$$$$$$$you said to her,

And spoke of me to him:

She gave me

$$a good name, indeed,

But said

$$$$$$$$I could not swim.

 

 

He sent them word

$$$$$$$$$$I went away

(We know that it’s true):

If she pushes the matter on

What will become of you?

 

 

I gave her one,

$$$$$$$$they gave him two,

You gave us three, or more;

They all came back

$$$$$$$$from him to you,

Though they were

$$$$$$$$$$mine before.

 

 

My notion was,

$$$$$$$$she liked him best,

(Before she had this thing)

I’ll hide it from all the rest

But him and you and it.”

 

“That’s the most important thing,” said the King. He was rubbing his hands; “so now let the jury—”

“If anyone of you can explain it,” said Alice, (she grew very large and she wasn’t afraid of the King,) “I’ll give him sixpence. I don’t think there’s a grain of sense in it.”

The jury all wrote down, “She doesn’t think there’s a grain of sense in it,” but nobody tried to tell what it meant.

“It’s even better,” said the King. “If there’s no sense in it we will have no trouble, you know.”

He put the verses on his knee, and looked at them with one eye.

“I found some sense in them, after all. ‘said I could not swim’!—You can’t swim, can you?” he asked the Knave.

The Knave shook his head sadly.

“Do I look like it?” he said.

(Which he certainly did not, because he was made of paper.)

“All right, so far,” said the King, and he went on. “’I gave her one, they gave him two’, that’s what he did with the tarts!”

“But it goes on, ‘they all came back from him to you,’” said Alice.

“Exactly! Why, isn’t he guilty after all?” said the King triumphantly. He pointed to the tarts on the table. “Nothing can be clearer than that. Let the jury consider their verdict!”

“No, no!” said the Queen. “Sentence first–verdict afterwards.”

“Nonsense!” said Alice loudly.

“Hold your tongue!” said the Queen.

“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 grew to her full size.) “You’re nothing but a pack of cards!”

At this the whole pack rose up in the air and flew down upon her; she screamed and tried to beat them off—and found herself on the bank, with her head in the lap of her sister.

“Wake up, Alice dear!” said her sister; “What a long sleep!”

“Oh, I had a very strange dream!” said Alice, and she told her sister all her strange adventures. When she finished, her sister kissed her, and said, “It was a strange dream, dear, certainly: but now run home to drink tea; it’s late.”

So Alice got up and ran away.

Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There

Chapter I

Looking-Glass House

The old cat Dinah was washing the white kitten, called Snowdrop. Dinah was rubbing its face all over beginning at the nose and it was lying quite still and trying to purr. Snowdrop felt that it was all for its own good. The black kitten, called Kitty, was already washed and clean.

Alice was sitting in the great armchair, half talking to herself and half asleep. And Kitty was playing with a ball of worsted rolling it up and down on the floor. The whole room was in a mess.

“Oh, you wicked little thing!” cried Alice and caught the kitten. She gave it a little kiss. “Where are your manners? Dinah has to teach you how to behave!” she added and sat back into the arm-chair. She began winding up the ball again. Alice was talking all the time, sometimes to the kitten, and sometimes to herself. Kitty sat next to her and watched the process.

“Oh, I was so angry, Kitty,” Alice went on, “when I saw all the mischief you have done, I was nearly opening the window and putting you out into the snow! You deserve it, you little darling! What have you got to say for yourself? I’m going to tell you all your faults. Number one: you squeaked twice when Dinah was washing your face this morning. You can’t deny it, Kitty! Number two: you pulled Snowdrop away by the tail when I gave it some milk! Number three: you unwound the worsted while I wasn’t looking!”

“Three faults, Kitty! I will punish you some day!”

“Oh, Kitty, can you play chess? Don’t smile, my dear, I’m asking you seriously. Because, when we were playing just now, you watched as if you understood everything. I said ‘Check!’ and you purred! Kitty, dear, let’s pretend…”

“Let’s pretend…” was Alice’s favourite phrase.

“Let’s pretend that you’re the Red Queen! I think if you sit like this, you’ll look exactly like her. Try, dear!” And Alice took the Red Queen and showed it to the kitten. But the kitten couldn’t sit properly. In order to punish it, Alice held it up to the Looking-glass. “If you’re not good,” she said, “I’ll put you through into Looking-glass House. How would you like that?”

“Now, Kitty, I’ll tell you everything about Looking-glass House. First, you can see a room through the glass … it’s just the same as our living room, only the things go the other way. I can see all of it when I get upon a chair … all except the bit behind the fireplace. Oh! I wish I could see that bit! I want to know if they have a fire in the winter. Well, the books are like our books, only the words go the wrong way.”

“Would you like to live in Looking-glass House, Kitty? I wonder if they would give you milk there. Perhaps Looking-glass milk isn’t good. Oh, Kitty! How nice it would be if we could only get through into Looking-glass House! I’m sure there are such beautiful things in it! Let’s pretend we can find a way into it, Kitty. Look, it’s turning into a sort of mist! It will be easy to get through…”

In another moment Alice was through the glass, and jumped down into the Looking-glass room. First she looked if there was a fire in the fireplace. And she was pleased when she saw a real fire.

Then she began looking about—it was very interesting there! For example, the pictures on the wall were alive, and the clock on the chimney piece had got the face of a little old man, and he smiled at her.

She noticed some chessmen on the floor and thought that it wasn’t very tidy there. But in another moment, she understood that they were alive! The chessmen were walking about!

“Here are the Red King and the Red Queen,” Alice whispered, “and there are the White King and the White Queen … and here two castles are walking arm in arm. I don’t think they can hear me!” she went on, as she put her head closer down. “And I’m sure they can’t see me. I feel as if I were invisible…”

Something began squeaking on the table behind Alice, and she turned her head and saw that one of the White Pawns fell down.

“It is the voice of my child!” the White Queen cried out. “My dear Lily!”

Alice wanted to help the White Queen, and she picked up the Queen and set her on the table to her noisy little daughter.

The journey through the air frightened the White Queen and for a minute or two she could do nothing but hug the little Lily in silence. But then she cried, “Mind the volcano!”

“What volcano?” said the White King, he looked into the fi re, as if he thought there was a volcano.

“It blew me up,” said the White Queen, who was still frightened. “Come up the regular way!”

Alice watched the White King—he began coming up very slowly. Alice said, “I will help you!” But he couldn’t hear and see her. Alice picked him up very gently, and lifted him. But, before she put him on the table, she began cleaning him—he was very dirty because of ashes. Of course, he was frightened too—he was hanging in the air and something was cleaning him!

Alice set him on the table near the Queen. The White King fell on his back and lay perfectly still. Alice worried about him and started looking for some water for him. However, she found only a bottle of ink, and when she went back the White King had already recovered. He and the Queen were talking together in a frightened whisper … so low, that Alice could hardly hear what they were saying.

The King said: “I turned cold to the very ends of my whiskers!”

“You haven’t got any whiskers,” the Queen said.

“This horrible moment,” the King went on, “I will never, never forget!”

“You will,” the Queen said, “if you don’t make a note of it.”

The King took a big note-book out of his pocket, and began writing. A sudden thought came to Alice, and she took the end of his pencil and began writing for him.

The poor King look puzzled and unhappy, and at last he said: “My dear! I need another pencil. It writes what I don’t want to write!”

The Queen looked into the book—“The White Knight is sliding down the poker. He balances very badly.” “But these aren’t your thoughts!”

There was a book near Alice on the table, and she opened it and read.

YKCOWREBBAJ

 

sevot yhtils eht dna,gillirb sawT“

ebaw eht ni elbmig dna eryg diD

,sevogorob eht erew ysmim llA

.ebargtuo shtar emom eht dnA

 

At first she was puzzled very much, but then she understood everything. “It’s a Looking-glass book, of course! And if I hold it up to a glass, the words will all go the right way again.” This was the poem that Alice read.

JABBERWOCKY

 

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

 

“It is very pretty,” Alice said, “but it’s very hard to understand! It seems to fill my head with ideas … only I don’t exactly know what they are!”

“Oh!” thought Alice suddenly, “I want to see the rest of the house! Let’s start with the garden first!” and ran downstairs.