The Gryphon has brought Alice into a courtroom, where a trial is approximately to occur.
The King and Queen of Hearts are presiding (while the King looks very silly, since he is wearing his crown together with a judge’s wig). The Knave of Hearts — that is, the Jack — whom we saw briefly in Chapter 8, is standing in chains, apparently accused of some crime. The White Rabbit is acting as court herald, holding a scroll in a single hand and a trumpet into the other, and in the jury box sit twelve animals that are little acting as jurors. On a plate is stood by a table of tarts — delicious-looking fruit pastries — whose presence makes Alice very hungry.
Alice notices that the twelve jurors have slates and pencils (that is, little chalkboards and bits of chalk, to take notes). When she asks the Gryphon what they’re writing prior to the trial has even begun, the Gryphon explains they are writing out their very own names, just in case they forget them through the trial. Alice, startled by this idiocy, exclaims out loud, “Stupid things!”, and sees to her amazement which they are so suggestible which they take note of whatever she says.
Irritated by the squeaking pencil of just one associated with the jurors from him, so the confused Bill tries during the rest of the trial to write on his slate with his finger— it is Bill the Lizard, in fact (who came down the Rabbit’s chimney in Chapter 4) — Alice sneaks up and takes it away.
The White is ordered by the King Rabbit to learn the “accusation.” The Rabbit unrolls his scroll, and reads the beginning of the nursery rhyme that goes: “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!” It seems that this is basically the accusation up against the Knave of Hearts. The King asks the jury for its verdict, nevertheless the Rabbit reminds him that they must hear the data first. So the Rabbit blows his trumpet to summon the very first witness — who turns out to function as Mad Hatter.
The King interrogates the terrified Hatter, nevertheless the questioning is ridiculous with no real information comes of it. While this is being conducted, Alice suddenly finds that she has begun to develop again, and it is getting large every quickly. The Dormouse, who is sitting next to her, complains that he’s being squished and moves to another seat.
The interrogation continues, nevertheless the Hatter can’t remember anything he’s asked, and never gets to finish his sentences anyway. People in the audience — namely, two guinea pigs — keep cheering, as they are suppressed by the officers associated with the court. (Carroll explains that this is done by putting the guinea pigs into a canvas that is large, and sitting on it. This is not, needless to say, how people are “suppressed” in courtrooms anywhere away from Wonderland.) Losing her temper, the Queen orders the Hatter beheaded, but the King allows him to leave.
The witness that is next the Duchess’s cook (from Chapter 6), who does not want to answer any queries after all. Once the King tries to cross-examine her by asking her what tarts are made of, she replies, “Pepper.” The Dormouse — which will be talking in its sleep — suddenly says “Treacle” (it should be thinking of the story about the molasses-well which it told Alice in Chapter 7), plus the Queen loses her temper completely. Because of the time the Dormouse happens to be tossed out from the court, the Cook has disappeared. The King tells the Queen she must cross-examine the next witness. Alice, very curious as to that will be called next in this ludicrous trial, is shocked to know the Rabbit read off its scroll: “Alice!”
Chapter 12 – Alice’s Evidence
Hearing her name called as a witness, Alice calls out, “Here!”, and jumps up to go to the leading associated with the courtroom. But she has forgotten that she’s been growing, and is now gigantic when compared with everybody else. The side of her skirt knocks over the jury box, and all the little animals tumble out. Since Alice remembers accidentally knocking over a bowl of goldfish the other day, she’s got the confused idea that them all back in they’ll die, so she quickly tucks them back into the jury box again if she doesn’t put. (Bill the Lizard gets stuck in upside down, so Alice has to put him side that is back right.)
The court is called by the King to order, and asks Alice what she knows about the situation of the Knave plus the tarts. Alice says she does not know any single thing about any of it, in addition to King and jury try for some time to find out whether this is certainly unimportant or important. Then the King, that has been busily writing in the notebook, announces that the court’s Rule Number Forty-two says that all people more than a mile high must leave the court. Everyone stares at Alice, who protests that she’s not a mile high (though this woman is certainly now very that is big, and that the King just made the rule up anyway. The King claims that it’s the oldest rule into the book. For this Alice cleverly replies it’s the oldest rule in the book, it ought to be Number One; the King turns pale, shuts his notebook and changes the subject that it if.
The White Rabbit announces that a piece that is new of has arrived — a letter which will need to have been written by the Knave of Hearts and really should be examined as evidence. The paper is not within the Knave’s handwriting, and has no true name signed to it, however the King and Queen decide that this proves the Knave’s guilt together with Queen begins to condemn him to death. However, Alice, who is now so large in comparison with the others them, saying that nothing at all has been proved and they don’t even know what the paper says that she is not afraid of the King or Queen, interrupts. The King orders the White Rabbit to aloud read it.
The paper ends up to contain a nonsense poem, that your King attempts to interpret in terms of the Knave. This really is difficult, considering that the poem makes no sense, however the King finds meaning in it anyway: for instance, it mentions someone who can’t swim, additionally the Knave of Hearts certainly can’t swim (since he is a playing card, and thus manufactured from cardboard). It mentions somebody having a fit, that the King things might relate to the Queen. In the suggestion that she has ever had a fit, the Queen grows enraged and throws a bottle of ink at Bill the Lizard.
The King, making a poorly-received pun on the word “fit,” gets annoyed when nobody laughs, and tells the jury to consider its verdict. The Queen demands, “Sentence first — verdict afterwards,” but Alice protests, “Stuff and nonsense! The notion of obtaining the sentence first!” Enraged, the Queen orders Alice’s check out be take off, but nobody moves to get it done (since Alice is now huge). Alice, emboldened, shouts, “Who cares for you? You’re nothing but a pack of cards!”
When she yells this, suddenly the entire pack of cards rises up in to the air and comes flying down onto her. Alice, who has got by this time around reached her full size again, screams and attempts to beat them off — but opens her eyes to locate herself lying from the river bank, where her sister is gently brushing away some dead leaves which may have drifted down onto her face.
Alice is amazed to learn that she’s got been asleep for write papers online a tremendously time that is long. She is told by her sister exactly about her astonishing dream. Her and tells her to run in and have her tea when she is done, her sister kisses. But as Alice trots off, still marvelling about her dream that is wonderful sister sits from the river bank, also thinking over everything Alice has shared with her.
Watching the setting sun, she falls into a daydream, and appears to see all Alice’s adventures for herself. But she understands that herself back in the real world again if she opens her eyes, she’ll find. And last but not least, she thinks exactly how when Alice is a woman that is grown children of her very own, she will inform them this story, and watch their eyes grow bright with wonder; and she thinks on how Alice will remember the joys and griefs of her very own childhood, and — as Carroll puts it in the final words — “these happy summer days.”
