XI
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: they looked so good, that it made
Alice quite hungry to look at them—“I wish they’d get the trial
done,” she thought, “and hand round the refreshments!” But there
seemed to be no chance of this; so she began looking at everything
about her to pass away the time.
Alice had never been in a court of justice before,
but she had read about them in books, and she was quite pleased to
find that she knew the name of nearly everything there. “That’s the
judge,” she said to herself, “because of his great wig.”
The judge, by the way, was the King; and, as he
wore his crown over the wig (look at the frontispiece if you want
to see how he did it), he did not look at all comfortable, and it
was certainly not becoming.
“And that’s the jury-box,” thought Alice; “and
those twelve creatures,” (she was obliged to say “creatures,” you
see, because some of them were animals, and some were birds,) “I
suppose they are the jurors.” She said this last word two or three
times over to herself, being rather proud of it: for she thought,
and rightly too, that very few little girls of her age knew the
meaning of it at all. However, “jurymen” would have done just as
well.
The twelve jurors were all writing very busily on
slates. “What are they doing?” Alice whispered to the Gryphon.
“They ca’n’t have anything to put down yet, before the trial’s
begun.”
“They’re putting down their names,” the Gryphon
whispered in reply, “for fear they should forget them before the
end of the trial.”
“Stupid things!” Alice began in a loud indignant
voice; but she stopped herself hastily, for the White Rabbit cried
out, “Silence in the court!”, and the King put on his spectacles
and looked anxiously round, to make out who was talking.
Alice could see, as well as if she were looking
over their shoulders, that all the jurors were writing down “Stupid
things!” on their slates, and she could even make out that one of
them didn’t know how to spell “stupid,” and that he had to ask his
neighbour to tell him. “A nice muddle their slates’ll be in, before
the trial’s over!” thought Alice.
One of the jurors had a pencil that squeaked. This,
of course, Alice could not stand, and she went round the
court and got behind him, and very soon found an opportunity of
taking it away. She did it so quickly that the poor little juror
(it was Bill, the Lizard) could not make out at all what had become
of it; so, after hunting all about for it, he was obliged to write
with one finger for the rest of the day; and this was of very
little use, as it left no mark on the slate.
“Herald, read the accusation!” said the King.
On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the
trumpet, and 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!”
All on a summer day:
The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts
And took them quite away!”
“Consider your verdict,” the King said to the
jury.
“Not yet, not yet!” the Rabbit hastily interrupted.
“There’s a great deal to come before that!”
“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. “I
beg pardon, your Majesty,” he began, “for bringing these in; but I
hadn’t quite finished my tea when I was sent for.”
“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.
“Fifteenth,” said the March Hare.
“Sixteenth,” said the Dormouse.
“Write that down,” the King said to the jury; and
the jury eagerly wrote down all three dates on their slates, and
then added them up, and reduced the answer to shillings and
pence.
“Take off your hat,” the King said to the
Hatter.
“It isn’t mine,” said the Hatter.
“Stolen!” the King exclaimed, turning to the
jury, who instantly made a memorandum of the fact.
“I keep them to sell,” the Hatter added as an
explanation. “I’ve none of my own. I’m a hatter.”
Here the Queen put on her spectacles, and began
staring hard at the Hatter, who turned pale and fidgeted.
“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, which puzzled her a good deal until she made out what it
was: she was beginning to grow larger again, and she thought at
first she would get up and leave the court; but on second thoughts
she decided to remain where she was as long as there was room for
her.
“I wish you wouldn’t squeeze so,” said the
Dormouse, who was sitting next to her. “I can hardly
breathe.”
“I ca’n’t help it,” said Alice very meekly: “I’m
growing.”
“You’ve no right to grow here,” said the
Dormouse.
“Don’t talk nonsense,” said Alice more boldly: “you
know you’re growing too.”
“Yes, but I grow at a reasonable pace,” said
the Dormouse: “not in that ridiculous fashion.” And he got up very
sulkily and crossed over to the other side of the court.
All this time the Queen had never left off staring
at the Hatter, and, just as the Dormouse crossed the court, she
said, to one of the officers of the court, “Bring me the list of
the singers in the last concert!” on which the wretched Hatter
trembled so, that he shook off both his shoes.
“Give your evidence,” the King repeated angrily,
“or I’ll have you executed, whether you’re nervous or not.”
“I’m a poor man, your Majesty,” the Hatter began,
in a trembling voice, “and I hadn’t begun my tea—not above a week
or so—and what with the bread-and-butter getting so thin—and the
twinkling of the tea——”
“The twinkling of what? ” said the
King.
“It began with the tea,” the Hatter
replied.
“Of course twinkling begins with a T!” said
the King sharply. “Do you take me for a dunce? Go on!”
“I’m a poor man,” the Hatter went on, “and most
things twinkled after that—only the March Hare said——”
“I didn’t!” the March Hare interrupted in a great
hurry.
“You did!” said the Hatter.
“I deny it!” said the March Hare.
“He denies it,” said the King: “leave out that
part.”
“Well, at any rate, the Dormouse said——” the Hatter
went on, looking anxiously round to see if he would deny it too;
but the Dormouse denied nothing, being fast asleep.
“After that,” continued the Hatter, “I cut some
more bread-and-butter——”
“But what did the Dormouse say?” one of the jury
asked.
“That I ca’n’t remember,” said the Hatter.
“You must remember,” remarked the King, “or
I’ll have you executed.”
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.
Here one of the guinea-pigs cheered, and was
immediately suppressed by the officers of the court. (As that is
rather a hard word, I will just explain to you how it was done.
They had a large canvas bag, which tied up at the mouth with
strings: into this they slipped the guinea-pig, head first, and
then sat upon it.)
“I’m glad I’ve seen that done,” thought Alice.
“I’ve so often read in the newspapers, at the end of trials, ‘There
was some attempt at applause, which was immediately suppressed by
the officers of the court,’ and I never understood what it meant
till now.”
“If that’s all you know about it, you may stand
down,” continued the King.
“I ca’n’t go no lower,” said the Hatter: “I’m on
the floor, as it is.”
“Then you may sit down,” the King
replied.
Here the other guinea-pig cheered, and was
suppressed.
“Come, that finishes the guinea-pigs!” thought
Alice. “Now we shall get on better.”
“I’d rather finish my tea,” said the Hatter, with
an anxious look at the Queen, who was reading the list of
singers.
“You may go,” said the King, and the Hatter
hurriedly left the court, without even waiting to put his shoes
on.
“——and just take his head off outside,” the Queen
added to one of the officers; but the Hatter was out of sight
before the officer could get to the door.
“Call the next witness!” said the King.
The next witness was the Duchess’s cook. She
carried the pepper-box in her hand, and Alice guessed who it was,
even before she got into the court, by the way 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 with a
melancholy air, and, after folding his arms and frowning at the
cook till his eyes were nearly out of sight, he said, in a deep
voice, “What are tarts made of ?”
“Pepper, mostly,” said the cook.
“Treacle,” said a sleepy voice behind her.
“Collar that Dormouse!” the Queen shrieked out.
“Behead that Dormouse! Turn that Dormouse out of court! Suppress
him! Pinch him! Off with his whiskers!”
For some minutes the whole court was in confusion,
getting the Dormouse turned out, and, by the time they had settled
down again, the cook had disappeared.
“Never mind!” said the King, with an air of great
relief. “Call the next witness.” And, he added, in an undertone to
the Queen, “Really, my dear, you must cross-examine the next
witness. It quite makes my forehead ache!”
Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over
the list, feeling very curious to see what the next witness would
be like, “—for they haven’t got much evidence yet,” she said
to herself. Imagine her surprise, when the White Rabbit read out,
at the top of his shrill little voice, the name “Alice!”