—Gaffer Was. From Yorkshire.
There was a man went over the Wash,
Grizzle grey was his horse;
Bent was his saddle-bow:
I've told you his name three times,
And yet you don't know!
—The same as the last. From Norfolk.
I am become of flesh and blood,
As other creatures be;
Yet there's neither flesh nor blood
Doth remain in me.
I make kings that they fall out,
I make them agree;
And yet there's neither flesh nor blood
Doth remain in me.
—A pen. Riddles similar to this are current in most languages. Mr. Stephens has kindly furnished me with the following one obtained in Sweden:
Af kött och blod är jag upprunnen,
Men ingen blod är i mig funnen;
Många herrar de mig bära,
Med hvassa knifvar de mig skära.
Mången har jag gifvit ära,
Mången har jag tagit af,
Mången har jag lagt i graf.
Of flesh and blood sprung am I ever;
But blood in me that find ye never.
Many great lords bear me proudly,
With sharp knives cutting me loudly.
Many I've graced right honorably:
Rich ones many I've humble made;
Many within their grave I've laid!
The pen has been a fertile subject for the modern riddle-writer. The best production of the kind was printed a few months ago in the Times newspaper, contributed by Miss Agnes Strickland.
Into my house came neighbour John,
With three legs and a wooden one;
If one be taken from the same,
Then just five there will remain.
—He had a IV legged stool with him, and taking away the left-hand numeral, there remains V.
Link lank, on a bank,
Ten against four.