All this time the Queen had never left off staring at the Hatter, and, just as the Dormouse crossed the court, she said to one of the officers of the court, "Bring me the list of the singers in the last concert!" on which the wretched Hatter trembled so, that he shook off both his shoes.
"Give your evidence," the King repeated angrily, "or I'll have you executed, whether you're nervous or not."
"I'm a poor man, your Majesty," the Hatter began, in a trembling voice, "—and I hadn't begun my tea—not above a week or so—and what with the bread-and-butter getting so thin—and the twinkling of the tea——"
"The twinkling of what?" said the King.
"It began with the tea," the Hatter replied.
"Of course twinkling begins with a T!" said the King sharply. "Do you take me for a dunce? Go on!"
"I'm a poor man," the Hatter went on, "and most things twinkled after that—only the March Hare said——"
"I didn't!" the March Hare interrupted in a great hurry.
"You did!" said the Hatter.
"I deny it!" said the March Hare.