However, they got settled down in a minute or two, and the game began.
Alice thought she had never seen such a curious croquet–ground in her life; it was all ridges and furrows. The croquet balls were live hedgehogs, and the mallets live flamingos and the soldiers had to double themselves up and stand on their hands and feet, to make the arches.
The players all played at once, without waiting for turns, quarrelling all the while and fighting for the hedgehogs; and in a very short time, the Queen was in a furious passion and went stamping about and shouting, "Off with his head!" or "Off with her head!" about once in a minute.
"They're dreadfully fond of beheading people here," thought Alice; "the great wonder is that there's anyone left alive!"
She was looking about for some way of escape, when she noticed a curious appearance in the air. "It's the Cheshire–Cat," she said to herself; "now I shall have somebody to talk to."
"How are you getting on?" said the Cat.
"I don't think they play at all fairly," Alice said, in a rather complaining tone; "and they all quarrel so dreadfully one can't hear oneself speak—and they don't seem to have any rules in particular."
"How do you like the Queen?" said the Cat in a low voice.
"Not at all," said Alice.
Alice thought she might as well go back and see how the game was going on. So she went off in search of her hedgehog. The hedgehog was engaged in a fight with another hedgehog, which seemed to Alice an excellent opportunity for croqueting one of them with the other; the only difficulty was that her flamingo was gone across to the other side of the garden, where Alice could see it trying, in a helpless sort of way, to fly up into a tree. She caught the flamingo and tucked it away under her arm, that it might not escape again.
Just then Alice ran across the Duchess (who was now out of prison). She tucked her arm affectionately into Alice's and they walked off together. Alice was very glad to find her in such a pleasant temper. She was a little startled, however, when she heard the voice of the Duchess close to her ear. "You're thinking about something, my dear, and that makes you forget to talk."
"The game's going on rather better now," Alice said, by way of keeping up the conversation a little.
"'Tis so," said the Duchess; "and the moral of that is—"Oh, 'tis love, 'tis love that makes the world go 'round!""
"Somebody said," Alice whispered, "that it's done by everybody minding his own business!"
"Ah, well! It means much the same thing," said the Duchess, digging her sharp little chin into Alice's shoulder, as she added "and the moral of that is—"Take care of the sense and the sounds will take care of themselves.""
To Alice's great surprise, the Duchess's arm that was linked into hers began to tremble. Alice looked up and there stood the Queen in front of them, with her arms folded, frowning like a thunderstorm!
"Now, I give you fair warning," shouted the Queen, stamping on the ground as she spoke, "either you or your head must be off, and that in about half no time. Take your choice!" The Duchess took her choice, and was gone in a moment.
"Let's go on with the game," the Queen said to Alice; and Alice was too much frightened to say a word, but slowly followed her back to the croquet–ground.
All the time they were playing, the Queen never left off quarreling with the other players and shouting, "Off with his head!" or "Off with her head!" By the end of half an hour or so, all the players, except the King, the Queen and Alice, were in custody of the soldiers and under sentence of execution.
Then the Queen left off, quite out of breath, and walked away with Alice.
Alice heard the King say in a low voice to the company generally, "You are all pardoned."
Suddenly the cry "The Trial's beginning!" was heard in the distance, and Alice ran along with the others.
IX—WHO STOLE THE TARTS?
The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when they arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them—all sorts of little birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards: the Knave was standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on each side to guard him; and near the King was the White Rabbit, with a trumpet in one hand and a scroll of parchment in the other. In the very middle of the court was a table, with a large dish of tarts upon it. "I wish they'd get the trial done," Alice thought, "and hand 'round the refreshments!"
The judge, by the way, was the King and he wore his crown over his great wig. "That's the jury–box," thought Alice; "and those twelve creatures (some were animals and some were birds) I suppose they are the jurors."
Just then the White Rabbit cried out "Silence in the court!"
"Herald, read the accusation!" said the King.
On this, the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, then unrolled the parchment–scroll and read as follows:
The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts,
All on a summer day;
The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts
And took them quite away!
"Call the first witness," said the King; and the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet and called out, "First witness!"
The first witness was the Hatter. He came in with a teacup in one hand and a piece of bread and butter in the other.
"You ought to have finished," said the King. "When did you begin?"
The Hatter looked at the March Hare, who had followed him into the court, arm in arm with the Dormouse. "Fourteenth of March, I think it was," he said.
"Give your evidence," said the King, "and don't be nervous, or I'll have you executed on the spot."
This did not seem to encourage the witness at all; he kept shifting from one foot to the other, looking uneasily at the Queen, and, in his confusion, he bit a large piece out of his teacup instead of the bread and butter.
Just at this moment Alice felt a very curious sensation—she was beginning to grow larger again.
The miserable Hatter dropped his teacup and bread and butter and went down on one knee. "I'm a poor man, Your Majesty," he began.
"You're a very poor speaker," said the King.
"You may go," said the King, and the Hatter hurriedly left the court.
"Call the next witness!" said the King.
The next witness was the Duchess's cook. She carried the pepper–box in her hand and the people near the door began sneezing all at once.
"Give your evidence," said the King.
"Sha'n't," said the cook.
The King looked anxiously at the White Rabbit, who said, in a low voice, "Your Majesty must cross–examine this witness."
"Well, if I must, I must," the King said. "What are tarts made of?"
"Pepper, mostly," said the cook.
For some minutes the whole court was in confusion and by the time they had settled down again, the cook had disappeared.
"Never mind!" said the King, "call the next witness."
Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over the list. Imagine her surprise when he read out, at the top of his shrill little voice, the name "Alice!"
X—ALICE'S EVIDENCE
"Here!" cried Alice. She jumped up in such a hurry that she tipped over the jury–box, upsetting all the jurymen on to the heads of the crowd below.
"Oh, I beg your pardon!" she exclaimed in a tone of great dismay.
"The trial cannot proceed," said the King, "until all the jurymen are back in their proper places—all," he repeated with great emphasis, looking hard at Alice.
"What do you know about this business?" the King said to Alice.
"Nothing whatever," said Alice.
The King then read from his book: "Rule forty–two. All persons more than a mile high to leave the court."
"I'm not a mile high," said Alice.
"Nearly two miles high," said the Queen.
"Well, I sha'n't go, at any rate," 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. It seems to be a letter written by the prisoner to—to somebody." He unfolded the paper as he spoke and added, "It isn't a letter, after all; it's a set of verses."
"Please, Your Majesty," said the Knave, "I didn't write it and they can't prove that I did; there's no name signed at the end."
"You must have meant some mischief, or else you'd have signed your name like an honest man," said the King. There was a general clapping of hands at this.
"Read them," he added, turning to the White Rabbit.
There was dead silence in the court whilst the White Rabbit read out the verses.
"That's the most important piece of evidence we've heard yet," said the King.
"I don't believe there's an atom of meaning in it," ventured Alice.
"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. Let the jury consider their verdict."
"No, no!" said the Queen. "Sentence first—verdict afterwards."
"Stuff and nonsense!" said Alice loudly.
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