Oh stop, _do_ stop! for I feel I shall drop if I don't sit down half a
minute.
I really thought you knew the way out--which I own _I_'m unable to guess,
Sir--
And now 'twould appear you are far from clear, and are puzzled "more or
less," Sir.
The paths are really so twirly-whirly, the hedges so jimble-jumbled;
It must be hundreds and hundreds of miles along which we have staggered
and stumbled.
I thought you _were_ a cool card. Mister BALFOUR, and did know your way
about. Sir,
But what I should like to know at present is, when we are like to get
out, Sir.
How LABBY will laugh at the Labyrinth-maker, who gets lost in his own
Great Maze, Sir!
Don't say, Sir, pray, that you've lost _your_ way,--you, whom people so
cosset and praise Sir.
You won't be hurried, and you can't be flurried, and you're always as
cool as a cucumber.
Can a little 'un like me, your own child, don't you see, such a smart
pioneer as are _you_ cumber?
You, the modern Theseus? Where's your Ariadne? Oh, I know you are cool,
and clever.
Yet I feel a doubt. When _shall_ we get out?--which I _can't_ go on
wandering for ever!
_Mazemaster loquitur_:--
Poor little man! Yes, I _had_ a plan, and a perfectly plain one, too, boy;
But--I fear--for a moment--I've--lost the clue! Ah! I'm awfully sorry for
_you_ boy!
You have been on your feet for a precious long time, and all this
roundaboutation,
_Is_ "_plusquam_-Thucydidean," perhaps, and at any rate mean aggravation.
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