_The Professor_ (_innocently_). "MY DEAR GIRL, SHE'S SIMPLY THE MOST CHARMING WOMAN I EVER MET! _I NEVER TALKED SO MUCH IN MY LIFE!_"] * * * * * IN A MAZE. "Mr. BALFOUR brought up a new sub-section, which he admitted was so obscure that he only 'more or less' understood it himself, and which, indeed, is of '_plusquam_-Thucydidean' dimness and involution.... There is no excuse, we must say, for the muddle into which the Government has got over the Bill.... The House of Commons has adjourned for a short holiday, but the Irish Land Purchase Bill is not yet through Committee.... There still remained all the new clauses, for which no time had been found."--_Times_. _Little Bill loquitur_:-- Oh do, if you please, Mr. BALFOUR, Sir, if you _can_,--and who can if you can't, Sir?-- Get me out of this Maze, where for days and days I have strayed till I'm all of a pant, Sir. Twelve months ago we started, you know, and I've been on my feet ever since, Sir. And oh, if you please, I feel weak at the knees, and the pains in my back make me wince, Sir. Mister HOOD's "Lost Child" wasn't half as had, for he only strayed in the gutter, While this dreadful Maze is enough to craze; and _my_ feeling of lostness is utter. Oh, my poor feet! This is worse than Crete, and old Hampton Court isn't in it. 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_:--