"You can't ask the jury for a verdict," the White Rabbit explained to the King. "There's more evidence to come." The White Rabbit bent over and picked up a folded piece of paper. "See? This item has just been found on the floor."
The Queen leaned forward to get a better look. "What is it?"
"I haven't opened it yet," the White Rabbit said. "Perhaps it's a letter written by the Knave to . . . to somebody."
"Unless it was written to nobody," the King said. "Although that would be most unusual."
All the jurors nodded in agreement.
"To whom is it addressed?" one juror asked.
"It's not addressed to anyone." The White Rabbit unfolded the paper as he spoke. "In fact, there's nothing written on the outside. Oh, it isn't a letter after all. It's a poem."
"Is it written in the prisoner's handwriting?" another juror asked.
"No, it's not, and I find that very strange," the White Rabbit said.
"The Knave must have imitated someone else's handwriting," the King said.
The Knave sighed. "I didn't write the poem, Your Majesty. And no one can prove that I did. Is there a name signed at the end of the poem?"
After carefully reading the poem, the White Rabbit shook his head. "No, there's no name anywhere."
But the King was not satisfied. He spoke to the Knave. "You didn't sign the poem, which only makes things worse. You were obviously up to some mischief. Otherwise, you would have signed your name like an honest man."
Everyone in the courtroom clapped wildly. "That's the first clever thing the King has said all day!" one juror said to another.
"Be quiet!" the Queen said, and everyone settled down. "If the Knave didn't sign the poem, that proves his guilt, so off with—"
"No! That doesn't prove anything at all," Alice interrupted. "You don't even know what the poem is about."
"Read the poem!" the King commanded the White Rabbit.
"Where shall I begin, Your Majesty?"
"Begin at the beginning," the King said. "And keep reading aloud until you get to the end."
And that is exactly what the White Rabbit did. There was dead silence in the courtroom as he read the poem.
"This is the most ridiculous poem I've ever heard," Alice thought. "It makes no sense at all."
But the King had another opinion. "This is the most important evidence we've heard all day." He rubbed his hands together. "Now the jury must decide—"
"If any of them can explain it, I'll give them some money," Alice said. "I don't think that poem means anything." She had grown so large that she wasn't afraid to interrupt the King.
The King ignored her. "Jury, what is your verdict?" he said for about the 20th time.
"No, no!" the Queen said. "Tell us the prison sentence first, then the verdict."
"That's absurd!" Alice said loudly. "No one gives the prison sentence first. What if the jury finds the Knave not guilty? Then there wouldn't even be a sentence!"
"Be quiet!" the Queen said, turning purple with rage.
"I won't!" Alice said.
"Off with her head!" the Queen shouted at the top of her lungs. Nobody moved.
"Who cares what you think?" Alice said. By this time, she had grown back to her full size. "You're nothing but a pack of cards!"
And at this, the whole pack rose into the air and flew at Alice.