I needed a clue as a clew to lead me to a clew, but I am still not sure if I have found one.
“Try the frumerous banderscnatch?”
“No Jabberwocky, that will not work. The last time he tried to find a clew he used his vorpal sword with all that snicky snacky stuff.”
“Munchtus glongomery would help changling the gloobs.”
“I don’t think so this time. It needs more tact. Plamble it with a prood would be my advice.”
“And then add a clew.”
“If it were only so easy. Tweetle tweetle plonk.*
“Who said that?”
“Twas I, the Jubjub bird. All it needs is a little glank in the spoolig, and there we have it.”
“No Jubjub, that is not beamish logic. As a Jabberwock I realised the facts, brillig and slithy.”
“Did someone call me?”
“No Tove, we are searching for the Clew.”
“No problem, my little Jubjub chicks collect them, for a snack. Would three be enough.”
“Thank you Jubjub bird, more than enough, but can your babies spare them.”
“Of course, clews are only for hatchlings, mine are now stranky Jubbles but be careful.”
“Are they dangerous?”
“No, but if you have a glink in you beak, you might have to trumple them first.”
“No problem. Jabberwocky do you have a beak?”
“No, just a froogle. What about you.”
“I have three, but they are all safely stacked away in the wab.”
“Ok Tove, then lets go.”
And a further problem of the clew had been solved in the shade of the Tumtum tree.
With apologies to Lewis Carroll.