The Complete Novels of Lewis Carroll (Illustrated Edition). Lewis Carroll

only of beautiful Soup?

      Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?

      Beau—ootiful Soo—oop!

      Beau—ootiful Soo—oop!

      Soo—oop of the e—e—evening,

      Beautiful, beauti—FUL SOUP!’

      ‘Chorus again!’ cried the Gryphon, and the Mock Turtle had just begun to repeat it, when a cry of ‘The trial’s beginning!’ was heard in the distance.

      ‘Come on!’ cried the Gryphon, and, taking Alice by the hand, it hurried off, without waiting for the end of the song.

      ‘What trial is it?’ Alice panted as she ran; but the Gryphon only answered ‘Come on!’ and ran the faster, while more and more faintly came, carried on the breeze that followed them, the melancholy words:—

      ‘Soo—oop of the e—e—evening,

      Beautiful, beautiful Soup!’

Chapter 11

      Who Stole the Tarts?

      Table of Contents

      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 picture 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 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!’

      ‘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,’ added 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 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,