Lizard
The Lizard, most often called Bill, is a small, put-upon creature in Wonderland who appears in several distinct episodes, each time as a subordinate figure subjected to physical mishap, bureaucratic absurdity, or the whims of those more powerful. Though he never speaks more than a few words, his recurring role as a victim of circumstance—kicked up a chimney by Alice, forced to write with his finger after his pencil is stolen, and placed head-downward in the jury-box—makes him a quiet emblem of the helplessness that pervades the dream world's social order.
Identity and Appearances
Bill is first introduced not by name but as a voice in the crowd outside the White Rabbit's house, where Alice, having grown to an enormous size, has become trapped. When the Rabbit and his helpers decide that someone must go down the chimney to dislodge the intruder, the task falls to Bill. Alice hears the others say, "Bill's to go down—Here, Bill! the master says you're to go down the chimney!" and she reflects, "Shy, they seem to put everything upon Bill!" He is described as a "poor little Lizard," and after Alice kicks him out of the chimney, he is carried into the middle of the crowd, held up by two guinea-pigs who are giving him something out of a bottle. Later, in the Queen's croquet-ground, the Lizard is not mentioned by name but is present as one of the doubled-up soldiers who form the arches—a role that requires him to stand on his hands and feet, subject to the chaotic movements of the game. His most sustained appearance comes during the trial of the Knave of Hearts, where he serves as a juror. There, Alice notices that he is "Bill, the Lizard," and that he is the one whose squeaky pencil she cannot tolerate; she steals it, leaving him to write with one finger for the rest of the day, a method that leaves no mark on the slate. When Alice accidentally upsets the jury-box, she puts the Lizard back in head downwards, and he waves his tail about in a melancholy way, unable to move, until she corrects him.
Arc Through the Plot
Bill's trajectory through the story is not one of personal development but of repeated, almost ritualized victimization. In his first appearance, he is the designated sacrifice for a dangerous job—descending a chimney into a room where a giant, unknown creature lurks. The kick he receives sends him flying "like a sky-rocket," and he is left dazed and unable to explain what happened. In the trial, he is again singled out: his pencil squeaks, which Alice finds unbearable, so she steals it, reducing him to a futile scribbling motion. When the jury-box is overturned, he is the one placed upside down, a comic image of helplessness. Even the Queen's violence is directed at him indirectly: when she throws an inkstand in fury, it hits the Lizard, and the ink trickles down his face, which he then uses as a makeshift writing implement. Throughout, Bill never protests, never asserts himself, and never receives any recompense or recognition. He is simply the creature upon whom things are done.
Relationships and Conflict
Bill's relationships are defined entirely by his subordinate status. He is ordered about by the White Rabbit, who calls him "Bill" and expects him to perform the dangerous chimney descent without question. The other animals in the crowd treat him with a kind of rough camaraderie—they catch him after the kick, offer him brandy, and ask what happened—but they also laugh at his misfortune and immediately assign him the next unpleasant task. With Alice, his relationship is one of accidental antagonism: she kicks him without malice, steals his pencil on a whim, and inverts him in the jury-box without realizing the indignity. She never speaks to him directly, and he never addresses her. The conflict is not personal but structural: Bill is the lowest-ranking creature in every scene he inhabits, and the story's humor depends on his silent endurance of one indignity after another.
Change and Ending
Bill undergoes no transformation, no growth, and no resolution. He remains, from first to last, the same helpless, squeaky-voiced lizard who is kicked, stolen from, and turned upside down. In the trial's final chaos, when Alice has grown to her full size and declares the court "nothing but a pack of cards," Bill is not mentioned again. He disappears into the general dissolution of the dream, leaving no trace of his own story. His final image is that of a creature sitting with his mouth open, gazing up at the roof of the court, too overcome to write even with the ink running down his face.
Thematic Significance
Bill's role in the narrative is to illustrate the arbitrary and often cruel logic of Wonderland's social hierarchy. He is the one upon whom everything is "put," as Alice herself observes, and his repeated victimization—always without cause, always without consequence for his tormentors—mirrors the Queen of Hearts' casual orders of execution. But where the Queen's violence is loud and theatrical, Bill's suffering is quiet, physical, and absurd: a kicked lizard, a stolen pencil, an upside-down juror. He is the creature who exists to be acted upon, and his silent endurance underscores the dream world's indifference to the individual. In a story full of characters who talk endlessly, Bill barely speaks; his few words—"Well, I hardly know—No more, thank ye; I'm better now—but I'm a deal too flustered to tell you"—are the only direct speech he ever utters, and they are the words of a creature who has been knocked senseless and can barely articulate what happened. He is, in the end, the most powerless figure in Wonderland, and his powerlessness is the joke that never stops being funny.