RIDDLE CLXXXVII.

My body is quite thin,
And has nothing within,
Neither have I head, face, or eye;
Yet a tail I have got

Full as long as-what not?
And up, without wings, I can fly.

RIDDLE CLXXXVIII.

I talk of arts, I talk of arms,
Of lovers' vows, of ladies' charms;

Of deeds that erst our sires have done,
Of foes subdued, of battles won;
In moral sentences I preach,
And, like a second Tully, teach:
I'm very learned too, and speak
Sometimes in Latin or in Greek;
Italian-French-I understand;
Have Spanish too at my command:
In short, I am a sapient thing,
But I can neither dance nor sing;
Yet always found, or wrong or right,
To be a true cosmopolite.

RIDDLE CLXXXIX.

WONDERS UPON WONDERS !!!

I saw a fishpond all on fire;

I saw a house bow to a 'squire ;

I saw a parson
twelve feet high;
I saw a cottage near the sky;
I saw a balloon made of lead;
I saw a coffin drop down dead;
I saw a sparrow run a race;
I saw two horses making lace;
I saw a girl just like a cat ;
I saw a kitten wear a hat;
I saw a man who saw these too,

And says, though strange, they all are true.

END OF RIDDLES.

CHARADE I.

My first is a fowl of good eating,
Though not at all times of the year:
My second, without any treating,
Is found in the hedge that is near.

My whole is a fruit, that is seen

To flourish in gardens, near bowers; 'Tis red, it is yellow, or green;

And you like it much better than flowers.

CHARADE II.

WITH my first I sometimes warm myself;
My second secures the miser's pelf:
These, when connected will display,
My third, which is carried every day.

CHARADE III.

My first is a contraction for society; my second denotes a recluse; my third forms a part of the ear: and my whole is but a quibble.

CHARADE IV.

My first I would venture for; my second I would venture in; my whole is more talked of than practised.

My second is conveyed to my first by the company of a friend; my whole is a product of spring.

CHARADE VI.

My first is an insect; my second a border:
My whole puts the face in a tuneful disorder.

CHARADE VII.

My first brave Nelson yielded, midst the jar
Of angry battle, and the din of war;

My second, when from labour we retreat,
Far from polite, yet offers us a seat:

My whole is but my second more complete.