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The jury all wrote down on their slates, "She doesn't believe

there's an atom of meaning in it," but none of them attempted to

explain the paper.

"If there's no meaning in it," said the King, "that saves a world

of trouble, you know, as we needn't try to find any. And yet I

don't know," he went on, spreading out the verses on his knee,

and looking at them with one eye; "I seem to see some meaning in

them, after all. "-said I could not swim-" you can't swim, can

you?" he added, turning to the Knave.

The Knave shook his head sadly. "Do I look like it?" he said.

(Which he certainly did not, being made entirely of cardboard.)

"All right, so far," said the King, and he went on muttering over

the verses to himself: "'We know it to be true-' that's the jury,

of course-'I gave her one, they gave him two-' why, that must be

what he did with the tarts, you know-"

"But, it goes on 'they all returned from him to you,'" said

Alice.