"What's in it?" said the Queen.
"I haven't opened it yet," said the White Rabbit, "but it seems to be a letter, written by the prisoner to—to somebody."
"It must have been that," said the King, "unless it was written to nobody, which isn't usual, you know."
"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 the 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.)
