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Description
on its mind and can't make itself understood, and so
can't rest easy in its grave, and has to go about that way every night
grieving. I got so down-hearted and scared I did wish I had some
company. Pretty soon a spider went crawling up my shoulder, and I
flipped it off and it lit in the candle; and before I could budge it
was all shriveled up. I didn't need anybody to tell me that that was
an awful bad sign and would fetch me some bad luck, so I was scared
and most shook the clothes off of m
Details
‘Nothing whatever,’ said Alice.
‘That’s very important,’ the King said, turning to the jury. They were
just beginning to write this down on their slates, when the White Rabbit
interrupted: ‘UNimportant, your Majesty means, of course,’ he said in a
very respectful tone, but frowning and making faces at him as he spoke.
‘UNimportant, of course, I meant,’ the King hastily said, and went on
to himself in an undertone,
‘important--unimportant--unimportant--important--’ as if he were trying
which word sounded best.
Some of the jury wrote it down ‘important,’ and some ‘unimportant.’
Alice could see this, as she was near enough to look over their slates;
‘but it doesn’t matter a bit,’ she thought to herself.
At this moment the King, who had been for some time busily writing in
his note-book, cackled 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, at any rate,’ 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.
‘Then it ought to be Number One,’ 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.’
‘What’s in it?’ said the Queen.
‘I haven’t opened it yet,’ said the White Rabbit, ‘but it seems to be a
letter, written by the prisoner to--to somebody.’
‘It must have been that,’ said the King, ‘unless it was written to
nobody, which isn’t usual, you know.’
‘Who is it directed to?’ said one of the jurymen.
‘It isn’t directed at all,’ said the White Rabbit; ‘in fact, there’s
nothing written on the OUTSIDE.’ He unfolded the paper as he spoke, and