RIDDLES.
[1]
I have three feet, dear friends,
And you must know:
I’ve sixteen nails,
But not a single toe!
[2]
I am originally a descendant of rags, but, in spite of my mean origin, I boast one of the most numerous families in the world. I wear the countenance of a man, varying in complexion from crimson to azure; and twice two stars are my companions. But, although of such dignity, besides having my face disfigured, I am continually spit upon, and trodden under foot by all mankind, who seem to value me only for my good looks—without them, I am despised. I am diminutive in size, and my days are few, but I am well known, and constantly sought after.
[3]
Who are we? When in the morning you rise
We let the sunshine down into your eyes.
Then we go playing before you all day,
Dark things we brighten, and soften the gay.
Oh! we make half the world’s beauty for you.
Little blue-eyed one, who are we? guess who?
Who are we? When the night shadows grow deep,
We draw around you the curtains of sleep.
When into dream-land we’ve locked you up tight,
Until the morn brings her bright keys of light,
Guess who like sentinels guarding you lie,—
Look—we’re before you now—black and gray eye.
[4]
I am born of a moment, as every one knows,
And rival the tints of the loveliest rose;
There are many who think me the offspring of shame,
But I’m oftener found in sweet modesty’s train;
E’en poets have made me the theme of their muse,
And painters have studied my delicate hues:
Yet, would you believe it! I cause much vexation
To those who possess me, and some irritation;
For I’ve often betrayed what they would have concealed,
And some of their most-cherished secrets revealed:
So be truthful, dear girls, or in spite of your tact,
I’ll fly in your faces and tell the whole fact.
[5]
Of metal I can make a heart;
I put a stop to ease;
And with a tradesman I can talk
As glibly as you please.
With a building in New York I’ll make
A covering for your head;
And with the rust upon your knife
I’ll make a piece of bread.
I’ll make a prison with old time,
And with a measure, too:
Now, Cousins all, say what I am,
For I belong to you.
[6]
I was pure, unsullied, white as snow,
But a little while ago,
When, by a tremendous squeeze,
I was spotted as you please.
Now, if you but look at me,
Something funny you will see,
That I am striped, spotted, white,
Yet that I am red to-night.
[7]
In Eden first, nigh the forbidden tree,
Found I my germ, as man his destiny;
Down in the depths of hell I had my birth;
I tortures there invented spread o’er Earth.
The man who strives for Fame’s approving nod,
I strike him on the face, he lies a clod.
I walk the public halls, and cheeks turn pale;
The speaker hears me, and his heart doth fail.
The young debutant on histrionic boards
Hath grace or ruin as my mood accords.
When two great powers (both vital friends of man
And both his enemies) in battle stand,
When over, under in their rage they roll;
Nor ever cease the fight, without control
Then am I found, and in the expiring sigh
The vanquished wrestler utters, then I die.
[8]
I am always seen in sugar,
And always seen in salt.
I am never seen in hops or beer,
But always seen in malt.
I’m never seen when it is light,
Yet, strange, I’m seen in day.
If you will look right sharp, I’m sure
You will find me when you stray.
I am never seen in coffee,
But always seen in tea.
I’m never found with mother,
With father I must be.
I’m always found with any thing,
Yet, strange as it may seem,
I’m never found in buttermilk,
But always found in cream.
I’m never found in good or sweet,
And never in your mind,
If you will study this right close,
My name you’ll surely find.
[9]
What force or strength can not get through,
I with a gentle touch can do;
And many in the street would stand,
Were I not as a friend at hand.
[10]
There is a certain natural production neither animal, vegetable, nor mineral. It generally exists from two to six feet above the surface of the earth. It has neither length, breadth, nor substance. It is neither male nor female, but commonly exists between both. It is often spoken of in the Old Testament, and strongly recommended in the New; and serves equally the purposes of treachery and fidelity.
[11]
I am a word in very common use. You will find me more than once upon almost or quite every page, whether a monosyllable, or dissyllable, or a polysyllable is to be found out; but this much is told: my first and last letter is the same; and my first three and my last three spell the same word. A useful article this of personal decoration. My interior is remarkable. Viewed one way, you laugh; viewed another, you sigh. I am an etymological stumble, and a novice hardly ever knows where to find me. To a Frenchman and a German I am an abhorrence. They never learn me so as even to call my name.
[12]
In vain you struggle to regain me,
When lost, you never can obtain me;
And yet, what’s odd, you sigh and fret,
Deplore my loss, and have me yet.
And often using me quite ill,
And seeking ways your slave to kill—
Then promising in future you
Will give to me the homage due.
Thus we go on from year to year;
My name pray let the party hear.
[13]
I’m swift as a shadow; I’m slow as a snail;
I fly like the storm-cloud impelled by the gale;
I sail with the mariner o’er the wide sea,
And traverse the shore with the bird and the bee.
I travel by day, and I travel by night,
And rarely from mortals I pass out of sight.
I dwell in the palace of nobles and kings,
But scorn not the cot where the poor mother sings;
But though I abide with the lowliest poor,
I ne’er have been turned from the rich man’s door.
I’m seen in the moon, when it waxes and wanes,
In the sun, too, at times when nature complains.
I’m courted much under shady bowers,
And welcomed at midnight or noonday hours.
I fly round the world each passing day,
And yet I’m as idle as a boy at play;
Nor do I repose at the set of the sun,
But wing my way by the light of the moon.
By day and by night I enter the door
Of high and of low, of rich and of poor;
And yet with a step so noiseless I come,
I’m not an intruder abroad or at home.
All deeds of darkness I ever eschew,
Though many such deeds I am forced to view
And now, since so often my features are seen,
Unless you can guess me, you surely are green.
[14]
I was born in the fields; taken from thence at an early age, I was made to assume my present form, and sold as a slave into the family of a wealthy merchant. While I was young, and comely, my life was comparatively easy; the modest Lucy would take me by the hand, and with her I would roam over the richly-carpeted mansion; and many a service I have rendered her. One morning, quite early, before the rest of the family were up, Lucy was standing by the window; I was leaning against her shoulder, when she uttered a slight scream. I jumped, and came near falling, but she caught hold of me, and pointing towards the window, showed me the cause of her terror. One well-aimed blow of mine felled the intruder to the earth, and the footman coming in just then, gave him the finishing touch. But, alas! my days of pleasant servitude were drawing near a close. Lucy became dissatisfied with me, and in a fit of pique, handed me over to the cook, by whom I was hustled hither and thither, wherever her fancy dictated. She was a careless woman, and one day, while I was doing all I could to serve her, she actually pushed me into the fire! Snatching me out as quickly as possible, she plunged me into a bucket of cold water; but I was disfigured and crippled for life, and disabled from further service. The cook at length declared she would no longer give me house-room, and one bitter cold night, turned me out into the street, without a stitch of clothing. I have never murmured when called upon to work; yet here I lie, neglected, unheeded, and uncared for.
But why should I complain? am I the only one shunned and forsaken, when no longer able to minister to the wants or pleasures of the world?
[15]
Among the snakes, I reck of one,
Not born of earthly breed,
And with this serpent vieth none,
In terror or in speed.
It darts upon its helpless prey
With roar both loud and high;
In one destruction borne away,
Rider and steed must die.
In highest place it loves to bide,
No door may bar its path,
And scaly armor’s iron pride
Will but attract its wrath.
The firmest earth it plows amain,
How tough soe’er it be—
As brittle reeds are snapt in twain
’Twill rend the mightiest tree.
Yet hath this monster, grim and fierce,
Ne’er twice with prey been fed,
But once its fiery tooth can pierce—
It slayeth—and is dead.