RIDDLES IN RHYME

Southland Times, Issue 23793, 15 April 1939, Page 14

RIDDLES IN RHYME

An Old Book & An Old Game

(SPECIALLY WRITTEN FOR THE SOUTHLAND TIMES)

By

EDNA PARSON

\WHAT force and flrength could not get through, 3 with a gentle touch can do; LAnd many in the flreets would (land, Were I not as a friend at hand. FOOD for the MIND OR, A NEW RIDDLE-BOOK Compiled for the Use of The GREAT and the LITTLE GOOD BOYS and GIRLS In England, Scotland and Ireland By John-The-Giant-Killer, Esq. Who Riddles tells, and merry Tale, O’er nut-brown Cakes and Mugs of Ale. HOMER. Come riddle me riddle me riddle me Ree, None are so blind as those that won t see. PUFFENDORF. LONDON Printed for the Booksellers of Europe, Asia, Africa and America; and sold by T. CARNAN and F. NEWBERY, jun., at No. 65, St. Paul’s Church Yard, 1778.

Bound in pasteboard covers, this tiny book of a past age is patterned externally, with a jumble of odd drawings, crown, stool, spoon, basket flowers, presumably indicating the ordinary things of life. Super-imposed on these is something much like a modern child’s first attempt at free design. Splotches of blue, red and yellow are scattered over the whole cover. The effect is an odd contrast to the stiff little label:

A NEW RIDDLE-BOOK 1778.

The first edition of this book _ came out in 1758 when books for children were rarities indeed. My recollections of the rhymed riddles that my grandmother, product of a village “dame school,” could reel off when in her eighties, remind me that “riddling” was a popular diversion and something of an accomplishment at one time. Probably this book “for the young” catered as much for the uncles and aunts who aspired to make their parties go with a swing. The preface bears one out in this idea:

The art of making riddles is so antique that it bears date almost with our earliest accounts of time, and is a diversion with which Sampson, the strongest of all mankind, amused himself. Nor has it been confined to common people . . . for Kings, and even some of the wisest of them, have been adepts in the science.

The following sort of riddle seems to indicate a work-a-day rather than a courtly origin:

Tho’ a cook, I’m so lean That my ribs may be seen, Yet I care not a farthing for that; For when victuals I dress All about me confess They are covered all over with fat.

And then one which makes me shudderingly remember the filthy conditions of living of long ago, with a smile for the droll figures of speech:

I am white at the neck as Susannah the fair, . Tho’ my body sometimes is all cover d with hair; As a flounder am flat, as a beetle am blind,

Yet good services do to the race of mankind: The copses and coverts I traverse each day, To drive from their holds and destroy beasts of prey; Having two rows of teeth for engagement design’d They all fly before me like chaff before wind; Now tell but my name, ye mamas or misses, And those who stand by shall reward you with kisses.

A simple verse describes the creature that has made the name of Keating famous:

Legs I have got, yet seldom do I walk, I backbite many, yet I never talk: In secret places most I seek to hide me For he who feeds me ever seeks to hide me.

There is in all of them a neat use of rhyme and also quite often considerable ingenuity in starting a false scent. As, for instance—

In courts or cottages we may be found. Our skirts with fringe of various dyes are bound; And as we were by providence design’d, A guard from harm t’a fav’rite apple

joined. We ne’er rove long, nor far asunder

stray, But meet and part a thousand times

a day: When dark, like loving couples, we

unite, And cuddle close together every night.

The use of “joined” as rhyme looks odd; but during the eighteenth century “jined” was its actual pronunciation.

At least two favourites of modem times are here:

Two bodies have I, Tho’ both joined in one: The stiller I stand, The faster I run.

Y note is long, my b«ck is broad 1 1 and round, A nd in my belly oft two holes are round; No load 1 carry, yet ! puff and blow, As much as heavy loaded porters do. And also— In spring I look gay. Decked in comely array, In summer more cloathing I wear: When colder it grows, I fling off my cloaths, And in winter quite naked appear.

This last one, illustrated by a simple drawing of a birch broom, will never fail to raise a shout of laughter:

Great virtues have I There’s none can deny, And to this’l shall mention an odd one, When apply’d to the tail, ’Tis seldom I fail To make a good boy of a bad one.

Each riddle has its accompanying woodcut, which clearly gives the key to the riddle. The riddler held the book, read out the rhyme to the guessers, and could never be stumped for the answer himself!

Yellowed, a little musty, dogs-eared here and there, the binding cracked and frayed, one cover gone, this little book recalls oddly the simplicity of its day. The modern child has resources, .in books, more varied and more charming than Mr Newbery and his customers at St. Paul’s Church Yard ever dreamed of. This F. Newbery, by the way, was successor to the famous John Newbery, who first specialized in publishing children’s books and probably wrote some of them. If he did not write, he planned such classics, now cold, as “Giles Gingerbread,” “Mrs Margery Two Shoes,” and “Tommy Trip and his Dog Jowler.” But it is about the nephew’s head, not about old John’s, that there shines still the glory of having published “The Vicar of Wakefield”; and perhaps a little of it is reflected on “A New Riddle-Book.”