`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 added `It isn't a letter, after all: it's a set of verses.' 

`Are they in the prisoner's handwriting?' asked another of they jurymen.

`No, they're not,' said the White Rabbit, `and that's the queerest thing about it.' (The jury all looked puzzled.) 

`He must have imitated somebody else's hand,' said the King. (The jury all brightened up again.) 

`Please your Majesty,' said the Knave, `I didn't write it, and they can't prove I did: there's no name signed at the end.' 

`If you didn't sign it,' said the King, `that only makes the matter worse. You MUST have meant some mischief, or else you'd have signed your name like an honest man.' 

There was a general clapping of hands at this: it was the first really clever thing the King had said that day. 

`That PROVES his guilt,' said the Queen. 

`It proves nothing of the sort!' said Alice. `Why, you don't even know what they're about!' 

`Read them,' said the King. 

The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. `Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?' he asked. 

`Begin at the beginning,' the King said gravely, `and go on till you come to the end: then stop.' 

These were the verses the White Rabbit read:--