C. Y. P. R. U.
This article on the making of anagrams, which we ask you to read carefully, was prepared by a gentleman who has had a great deal of experience with puzzles and puzzlers. Perhaps you will try your own skill in transposing sentences after this ingenious fashion:
MODERN ANAGRAMS.
BY KOE.
In a former issue of Young People a writer told the younger readers of the old-fashioned amusement of making anagrams on the names of acquaintances and public characters. The author gave several illustrations of famous anagrams made many years ago; but there have been some truly wonderful anagrams published in this country during the last four or five years, and I shall endeavor to give you a few of the most interesting ones.
There is a certain understanding among contributors to puzzle columns that an anagram is a word, name, place, or event so transposed that it will relate in some way to the original subject; while if merely so transposed that it will produce other words not relative to the original, it is called a transposition; but transpositions are usually made of a single word, as, for instance, the following by a lady of Toledo, Ohio, who signs herself "Mazie Lane":
"Transpose a musical anthem grand,
And find a picture by a red man's hand."
The answer is Motet—Totem.
Here is one by a young man of Boston, who signs himself "Sphinx":
"Gay, pretty flowers of the spring,
Transposed will stipulators bring."
Answer: Primroses—Promisers.
These are good examples of transpositions, as they are called, while the word Astronomers, which is turned into moon-starers, is an excellent example of word-anagram. One of the best, and probably only word in the English language of which so perfect an anagram can be made, is a word I discovered in my dictionary not long since. It is the word stum, and turned into the anagram of must. The definition of each word is the same—"unfermented grape juice or wine."
As the following anagrams were when published signed by their authors with a nom de plume, or assumed name, I will give due credit by giving the name of each.
A contributor who signed himself "Wilkins Micawber" sent me the following in 1879:
"We all can say, and speak the truth,
How well we knew her in our youth."
The door ring tided ill.
Surely every one of my readers has heard or read of this little girl who, while on her way to her grandmother's house, met the fierce wolf in the woods. The words in italics represent the anagram, and I am confident some of the bright little readers would soon discover in the above line their well-known friend Little Red Riding-hood. Is not this an excellent anagram?
A gentleman of New Haven, Connecticut, who uses the nom de plume of "O. Possum," is the author of the following—and I fancy some of the older members of the family would have to assist to solve it, being an anagram of a well-known book that few of the little folks read:
Past homes of Italy pied.
"Of days gone by, a story written
By Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton."
The answer is The Last Days of Pompeii.
From the landing of the Pilgrims down to the present day the history of our country is full of grand events that afford most excellent subjects for anagrams, and many of my friends have utilized some of them. I could fill several pages with the anagrams I have collected, but lack of space compels me to give only a few of the best.
A contributor who uses the nom de plume of "Jim Jam" was the first to use the event of Washington crossing the Delaware for an anagram, with the following result:
A hard, howling, tossing water scene.
Soon after receiving this a friend, now dead, sent me the following on the same subject. His nom de plume was "Graham":
Lo! see rash acting with dangers won.
One "Percy Vere" also used this subject, with this result:
"Read this event on history's page—
The cold waters swashing on in rage."
While "Edwin Drood's" attempt resulted as follows:
Watch a soldier hang on, steering s.w.
This was sent to me more as a joke, and the answer given as "Crossington washing the Delaware," but both answers can be found. I will here say that a true and perfect anagram should not contain a single letter to represent words, as in the one given above; nor should any but proper abbreviations be used, and these as rarely as possible.
The two following were composed by "Traddles," who, by-the-way, is looked upon as quite an expert in this amusement:
Horror flee! Rude war's better ended.
"The surrender of Robert Edward Lee," which also ended the war of the rebellion.
A French site. 'Tis blotted out, eh?
"The destruction of the Bastile," a terrible state-prison, which was destroyed by the people of Paris on the 15th of July, 1789.
O! glad boy finds rich metal in clay of shoal river.
This, by "Percy Vere," is considered one of the best and most correct of anagrams. The answer is, "The discovery of gold in California by Marshall." This author is also the writer of the following:
O! all in ban. March!
Answer: Abraham Lincoln.
Sirs, 'tis alone.
Answer: Solitariness.
The following two are so good that I am sure my readers will excuse me for the additional time I take from their play to present them. They are both by the same author, a gentleman of Ohio:
Often noisy I when I enable aching wives to hem.
Answer: Invention of the sewing-machine by Elias Howe.
Pooh! we can find ten errors; they never hit.
Answer: The weather predictions of Henry Vennor.
The above will give you all an idea of how an anagram should be made. All are excellent specimens of American work—in fact, I am certain no better were ever composed. The puzzle column in this paper, I am sure, would publish some anagrams if my young readers will take the trouble to try and make them. Let us see who will have the first one published.
Before closing I wish to give you a treat, illustrating how a word can be twisted and twirled. It is from Maitland:
"'How much there is in a word—monastery,' says I. 'Why, that makes nasty Rome;' and when I looked at it again, it was more nasty—a very vile place, or mean sty.
"'Ay, monster,' says I, 'you are found out.'
"'What monster?' said the Pope.
"'What monster?' said I. 'Why, your own image there—stone Mary.'
"'That,' he replied, 'is my one star, my Stella Maria, my treasure, my guide.'
"'No,' said I, 'you should say my treason."
"'Yet no arms,' said he.
"'No,' quoth I; 'quiet may suit best, as long as you have no mastery—I mean money arts.'
"'No,' said he again, 'those are Tory means, and Dan, my senator, will baffle them.'
"'I don't know that,' said I; 'but I think one might make no mean story out of this one word monastery.'"
We would call the attention of the C. Y. P. R. U. this week to Mrs. Lillie's article "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart," and to "Parsee Merchants of Bombay," by Colonel Thomas W. Knox. In "How to Lay out Lawn Tennis Courts" Sherwood Ryse offers some hints that young tennis-players will find very useful.
PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.
No. 1.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC.
1. A pronoun. 2. A tree. 3. Another pronoun. 4. A kind of fuel. 5. A boy's name. 6. A preposition. 7. A verb. 8. A smaller portion. Primals and finals compose the name of a book by Louisa M. Alcott.
Doxy.