The People's Songbag
A kind of riddle folk-poem common to people of Saxon descent is the 110 riddle. These. poems belong in the first of Child’s categories, and the circumstance usually is that a humble peasant outwits the king’s court The peasant, found guilty of some capital offence, wins his freedom after inventing a riddle that neither the king nor his retinue can answer. In England it takes a rather gruesome form. I sat wi* my love. And I drank wi’ my love. And my love she gave me light; I’ll give any man a pint of wine, That’ll read my riddle all right.
The answer is: I sat in a chair made of my mistress’s bones, drank out of her skull, and was lighted by a candle made of the substance of her body.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CHP19650220.2.193
Bibliographic details
Press, Volume CIV, Issue 30680, 20 February 1965, Page 17
Word Count
135The People's Songbag Press, Volume CIV, Issue 30680, 20 February 1965, Page 17
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Acknowledgements
This newspaper was digitised in partnership with Christchurch City Libraries.
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