How to Behave and How to Amuse: A Handy Manual of Etiquette and Parlor Games

by George H. Sandison

LOGOGRIPHS.

1.

A creature was formerly seen in England, which has lately been expelled from it, and which has some very peculiar properties appertaining to it. It stands upon one leg,—on which, without any body, is seen a great square head. It has three eyes, of which the centre is by far the largest; indeed so much so, that it has before now contained two more. The head is of a very peculiar construction, but exactly suited to its design: whenever it is about to be used, it is separated in halves, and, when reconnected, is held up to the gaze of an insolent rabble. All the notice, however, which it generally attracts, results from its being the effectual means of exhibiting another to the gaze of a hostile crowd. Such is this when entire; but when divided, and cut to pieces, a curious and careful observer may collect all that follows, by a selection and appropriate arrangement of its fragments.

A dose of medicine conveyed in a very agreeable manner, as, however nauseous its ingredients may have originally been, it is quite tasteless. Such a state of the physical powers as requires such a dose. A part of the face, of a color quite different from the rest, and the more handsome, the greater the difference. A public record on which many are very anxious to get their names entered; or, to descend from great things to small, a substance that is devoured every morning for breakfast. A river which flows through a very delightful and agreeable part of Europe. What curious people are very fond of doing. What a candidate, for your vote at the next general election, if he should think it worth his while, will demand. A very poetical portion of the watery element, which murmurs and meanders in the description of many a poetaster. A quality of resinous substances. A female nickname. What is very necessary to be done occasionally in your shrubbery. An exclamation of surprise. A flower displaying more to admire than Solomon in all his glory. To tear. The expressed juice of olives,—and its adjective. A conjunction. And two initial letters, whose reiterated sounds have drowned the voices of strutting monarchs and ephemeral heroes.

2.

Ye who in mystic lines delight,

Unveil and bring me forth to light,

Nor deem me tiresome, if my song

Should, like myself, prove wondrous long.

It may perhaps excite your mirth,

That animals to me give birth;

Yet vegetables oftener claim

The honor to produce the same.

One time as white as snow I’m seen,

Another, red, blue, yellow, green;

The friendly brown I also wear,

Or in a sable garb appear:

The rhetorician owns my power,

For though well dressed with many a flower

His florid speech would gain no praise,

But, losing me, contempt would raise.

But now my name you surely know,

Dissected in the lines below.

That power to which we all must bend;

And what we call a valued friend;

A goddess of revengeful fame;

And Abram’s near relation’s name;

Two articles in common use;

And what we oft complain of news;

A weed which grew upon the plain,

Suffer’d till harvest to remain;

Two quadrupeds will next appear,

Which both conduce to sport and cheer;

A third, a noxious little creature;

And what adds charms to simple nature;

A fruit; a color; and a date

A firm support of Britain’s state;

What high, yet low, we wish to be;

A term for one who goes to sea;

One thing another oft put over;

Two things by this you may discover,—

To make my hint somewhat more plain,

One keeps the other from the rain;

The vital spring of every woe;

And every pleasure that we know;

What’s always done whene’er we walk;

And what we do when others talk;

With what we’ve done when they give o’er

Two notes in music next explore;

What, join’d to home, is sent about,

As invitation to a rout;

What oft we see upon the plain;

Two little words denoting pain,

Or quick surprise, or laughter vain

A sign of sorrow; mark of spirit;

What envy bears superior merit;

A fragrant shrub we oft infuse:

Two pronouns in most frequent use;

A passion which the envious feel;

A weapon pointed oft with steel;

One of the properties of stone;

A term for misanthrope well known;

What oft in summer months we feel;

What aids when secrets you reveal;

What sinful deeds should ever be;

What’s daily done by you and me.

If all these meanings you expound,

Just five and forty will be found.

3.

I was before the world begun,

Before God made the rising sun;

Before He made the lesser lights

To drive the darkness from the nights.

I’m at the bottom of the sea,

And I am in immensity;

The daily motion of the earth

Dispels me, and to me gives birth;

You cannot see me if you try,

Although I’m oft before your eye.

Such is my whole. But for one part

You’ll find in taste I’m rather tart;—

Now I become th’ abode of men,—

And now for meaner things, a pen;

I am a man who lives by drinking,—

Anon I keep a weight from sinking;

To take me, folks go far and near,

I am what children like to hear;

I am a shining star on high,

And I’m its pathway through the sky;

I take the strength from iron and steel,—

Am sometimes left behind a wheel;

I am a term of due respect,—

Am used in English to connect;

I’m made to represent a head,—

Am found on every loaf of bread.

Such are the many forms I take,

All these, and many more I make;

Yet, after all, so strange am I,

Soon as you know me, then I die.

4

The man of letters finds me in his books;

The angler by the side of babbling brooks;

The sportsman seeks me with his dog and gun;

In foreign lands the traveler thinks I’m won;

The spendthrift hopes to buy me with his gold;

And childhood has me when a tale is told;

The love of me decoys the giddy youth,

From useful studies, till he learns this truth,

“All those who seek me only, most I fly;”

Lastly, when you my hidden sense descry,

You’ll own that for my sake you pondered long

The countless changes, that to me belong.

Such am I as a whole—but for one part,—

The youth invokes me when he feels love’s dart;

The Swiss, when exiled from his native vales,

Hears me with anguish, and his fate bewails;

New zest I add to scandal’s busy hour;

And adverse winds and tides confess my power;

I am the dazzling source whence colors flow;

The sluggard’s teacher; and your equal now;

Without me sails were useless; then a word

Expressing like; and now meek woman’s lord;

To measure next; anon to add; to vex;

The gentle office of the weaker sex;

I’m flesh, not fish—I’m silent ever;

Sought by all ranks, on earth found never;

Your near relation, and the squirrel’s food;

What you would keep when in a lazy mood;

Neptune’s abode; the forest monarch’s pride;

A term to the departed souls applied;

What you possess, but others oftener use;

Your coat must have me, spite of what you choose;

Now the soft clime of “the cedar and vine;”

And last, a short word importing new wine.

More could I tell, but I bid you adieu,

Lest by prating I cause my own loss to you.