XVI.
MRS. RAMSBOTTOM'S CONUNDRUMS.
To John Bull.
Montague Place, Dec. 28, 1827.
Dear B.,—I never like to fail writing to you at this season, but I don't like puttin you to the expense of postage; and yet, when I hear of any thing peakant, I wish to send it you.
You must know that me and all the gulls have taken to making knundrums, as they call them, and what we can't make, we collex. We got the idear from having purchased some of the hannual perodicals. I boght the Omelet, and Lavinia boght the Bougie, and they set us upon putting knundrums into our Albions.
It being Christmas, and it coming but once a year, I have sent you some of ours, which perhaps you won't print, but may serve to make you laugh.
What three letters spell Archipelago—(what that is I don't know; but this is the answer)—E. G. and C.
Why is a man about to put his father in a sack like a traveller on his way to a city in Asia?—Because he is going to Bag Dad.
Why is a child with a cold in its head like a winter's night?—Because "it blows, it snows."—(nose, you know.)