is solved by Fire-irons.
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307
My first, though naught, with others is a fruit,
My next is vital to both man and brute.
It should be dear to all who hate the devil,
For it is ever the reverse of evil.
My all, when whole, is eloquent of peace,
Divided it invokes to life that will not cease.
is solved by Olive.
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308
Guess at my first, ’tis easy to discover,
Covered with rings, and whiskered like a dandy.
Wrapped up in furs, ’tis often on the housetop,
Oft in the chimney!
See where my second, scorning to be hidden,
Stands at the head of quite a band of others,
Like a virago, straddling with feet apart,
And arms akimbo.
Surely my next is happy in its office,
Parting the lovelocks on Neæra’s forehead;
Setting the golden lines wherewith she angles
For the unwary.