'There's more evidence to come yet, please your Majesty,'
 said the White Rabbit, jumping up in a great hurry; 'this
 paper has just been picked up.' 
 
'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 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.