ing an inkstand at the Lizard
as she spoke. (The unfortunate little Bill had left off writing on his
slate with one finger, as he found it made no mark; but he now hastily
began again, using the ink, that was trickling down his face, as long as
it lasted.)

"Then the words don't _fit_ you," said the King, looking round the court
with a smile. There was a dead silence.

"It's a pun!" the King added in an angry tone, and everybody laughed.

"Let the jury consider their verdict," the King said, for about the
twentieth time that day.

"No, no!" said the Queen. "Sentence first--verdict afterwards."

"Stuff and nonsense!" said Alice loudly. "The idea of having the
sentence first!"

"Hold your tongue!" said the Queen, turning purple.

"I won't!" said Alice.

"Off with her head!" the Queen shouted at the top of her voice. Nobody
moved.

"Who cares for _you_?" said Alice (she had grown to her full size by
this time). "You're nothing but a pack of cards!"

[Illustration: _At this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came
flying down upon her_]

At this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came flying down upon
her: she gave a little scream, half of fright and half of anger, and
tried to beat them off, and found herself lying on the bank, with her
head in the lap of her sister, who was gently brushing away some dead
leaves that had fluttered down from the trees upon her face.

"Wake up, Alice dear!" said her sister. "Why, what a long sleep you've
had!"

"Oh, I've had such a curious dream!" said Alice, and she told her
sister, as well as she could remember them, all these strange Adventures
of hers that you have just been reading about; and when she had
finished, her sister kissed her, and said "It _was_ a curious dream,
dear, certainly: but now run in to your tea; it's getting late." So
Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might,
what a wonderful dream it had been.

BUT her sister sat still just as she had left her, leaning her head,
watching the setting sun, and thinking of little Alice and all her
wonderful Adventures, till she too began dreaming after a fashion, and
this was her dream:

First, she dreamed of little Alice herself, and once again the tiny
hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes were looking
up into hers--she could hear the very tones of her voice, and see that
queer little toss of her head to keep back the wandering hair that
_would_