LOGOGRAMS.

As its name implies, a logogram is a puzzle in which a word is made to undergo several transpositions, by the addition, subtraction, reversion of order, or substitution of a letter or letters.

To Lord Macaulay we are indebted for some of the choicest specimens of this class of word puzzling. One of his logograms has been selected, and is given here, because it so clearly displays all the peculiarities of this class of riddle, and because it is also such a marvel of ingenuity and skill, and at the same time is so happily expressed.

"Cut off my head, how singular I act!

Cut off my tail, and plural I appear;

Cut off my head and tail—most curious fact!

Although my middle's left, there's nothing there!

What is my head, cut off? A sounding sea!

What is my tail, cut off? A flowing river!

Amid their mingling depths I fearless play,

Parent of softest sounds, though mute for ever."

The answer is, Cod; and every line reveals a fresh play upon the word. Cut off its head, and it is od (odd), singular; its tail, and it is plural, Co. (the abbreviation for Company); cut off its head and tail, and it is O (nothing); the head cut off, is a sounding Sea (C); its tail, a flowing river—Dee (D). Amid their (the sea and the Dee) depths the Cod may play, parent of softest sounds (the air bladder of the cod, a favourite delicacy to many), yet mute for ever.

Charles James Fox, the history of whose early life has been written by Mr. G. O. Trevelyan, is to be credited with the following clever logograph:—

"What is pretty and useful, in various ways;

Though it tempts some poor mortals to shorten their days;

Take one letter from it, and then will appear

What youngsters admire every day in the year;

Take two letters from it, and then, without doubt,

You are what that is, if you don't find it out."

Answer: Glass, Lass, Ass.

Our next example is rather a long one, but claims a place of honour wherever logograms are treated. This was also written by Lord Macaulay.

"Come, let us look close at it: 'tis a very ugly word;

One that should make us shudder whenever it is heard;

It may not be always wicked, but it must be aways bad,

And speaks of sin and suffering enough to make one sad.

Folks say it is a compound word, and that is very true;

But then they decompose it, which of course they're free to do.

But why of the twelve letters should they take off the first three,

And leave the nine remaining, as sad as they can be?

For while they seem to make it less, in fact they make it more,

And let the brute creation in, that was left out before.

Let's see if we can't mend it; 'tis possible we may,

If only we divide it in some newer-fashioned way.

Suppose, instead of three and nine, we make it four and eight;

You'll say, ''Twill make no difference—at least, not very great.'

Yet only see the consequence; that's all that needs be done

To change the weight of sadness to unmitigated fun.

It clears off swords and pistols, conscriptions, bowie knives,

And all the horrid weapons by which people lose their lives.

The native voice of merriment's compressed into one word,

Which chases away sorrow whenever it is heard.

Yes, four and eight, my friends, let that be yours and mine,

Though all the host of demons may exult in three and nine."

Answer: Man-slaughter, Slaughter, Man's-laughter.

The next specimen we give is by William Pitt, first Earl of Chatham.

"To discover the name that my verse would express

A letter you'll first from the alphabet guess;

Which letter, by this may be easily known,

Its shape is the very reverse of your own.

My next, if a fair one too rashly exposes

A beauteous complexion of lilies and roses,

What the beams of the sun will infallibly do

To deaden their lustre and sully their hue.

Add to these, what induces the amorous swain

To persist in his vows, though received with disdain.

These, joined all together, will make up the name

Of a family known in the annals of fame."

Answer: S-tan-hope (Stanhope).

Robert B. Brough, the dramatist, was in early life most sensitive to criticism, and gave vent to his spleen in this somewhat bitter logogram:—

"Cut off my head, and you will quickly see

Something disliked by you and me;

Cut off my tail, and then it is clear

The past of a verb will quickly appear;

Cut off my head and my tail also,

You'll have a conjunction then, I trow.

Whole, I'm an insect, not over clean,

Dreaded at picnics in meadows green;

To critics, to publishers, intimate friends,

My name a most delicate piquancy lends;

When they smile in their guile, and hiss as they sing,

And hide under flatteries a venomous sting."

Answer: Wasp, Asp, Was, As.

The following words will be found suitable for use in puzzles of this nature:—

Span. (Snap, spa, asp, pan, nap.)

Price. (Rice, ice, rip, rep.)

Lady. (Lad, day, lay.)

Angel. (Angle, glean, leg, glen, lane, gale, Lea.)

Degrade. (Grade, dare, dear, ear, are, dad, gear.)

Legate. (Eaglet, eagle, gale, lag, gat, get, let.)

Copper. (Pope, Poe, Po, core.)