Thirty Charades

by Carolyn Wells

THIRTY CHARADES. ^[1]

By Carolyn Wells.

1

The vast hosts of Egypt, at Pharaoh's decree,
All blazing in armor marched down to the sea.
The plot was devised, in a moment of rage,
By my last, who committed my first 'gainst a sage.
A dry way through the sea for the hosts was revealed;
But this availed naught, for their dark doom was sealed;
The furious bilious no power could control.
And 'neath the dark waters they soon were my whole.

2

Clad in his ermine and his robes of state.
The haughty king in pomp and splendor sate.
And 'mong the crowds which thronged the regal chair.
My first approached, and looked upon him there.
She, too, with white-furred robe and gentle mien.
And noble air and countenance serene.
"What does she here?" grumbled a doughty knight.
The king replied, "The world hath said she might."

I walked across a sunny field one day,
And saw an old man working by the way.
"How is my last, old man?" I gaily said.
"My last?" said he, and bent his grizzled head.
"How is my last?" I said it o'er again.
"My last?" he said (he seemed perplexed), and then—
"Is my last good?" I asked of him once more.
"Fine, sir," he said; "better than e'er before."
Across the ocean's wave my total lies;
And, as Lord Tennyson in verse implies.
Is dull and undesirable; but still,
I'd gladly travel there, had I my will.

3

My first, a graceful shape, a lady fair,
Walking the earth, suspended in the air;
Shrill-voiced and brazen-tongued, low-toned and sweet.
Shining and dull, discordant and discreet.

The jolly fisherman, his day's work o'er.
Walks with his string of fish along the shore;
Knowing they'll make a bountiful repast,
He proudly takes them homeward to my last.

Once in my whole a lovely maiden swung,
And ever since we've heard her praises sung.

4

A well known ballad has rehearsed
The placid waters of my first.
The hero bold, his noble friend,
The heroine's sad, untimely end,
Who by a traitor was immersed
Beneath the waters of my first.
Another ballad I could name
Describes the doings of a dame;
Her home-life, and her walks abroad,
And her companion. We are awed
At all the tales her memories tell.
And what strange happenings befell.
'Tis said that she went to my last.
Now this we know: that if she passed
Into my last, and didn't hand
My last, according to demand,
'Twas not my last, and we may say
She was a deadhead in her day.
My whole's desired by every one
From day to day, from sun to sun.
For it we pray, we work, we earn;
Look out for it at every turn.
And when at last we've had our day,
My last my first we'll have to say.

5

I met my whole in a far-distant land,
Shiftless and wild he roamed upon the sand.
"Are you my last?" with sudden fear I said.
He only said my first, and wagged his head.
Yet but reverse the letters of my whole,
A friend we see, a noble loving soul.

6

The banners were waving, gems glittered and shone,
When my first and second ascended the throne.
And peacefully reigned with a merciful sway
In glory and splendor. But one summer day
A message was brought to the court and the state
That the king was not coming, the session must wait.
A great consternation o'er all faces spread;
They whispered in sorrow, "Alack for his head!"
And the courtiers echoed, "Alas for his poll!
Oh, who can now help him, his head is my whole!"

7

I know a boy; he's named my last.
And yet he is my first,
Because of all the scamps I know,
He really is the worst.

I saw him tumble down to-day
And on the pavement roll;
I saw him fight another boy,
I saw him get my whole.
 
His old cap was my whole, I think;
A tattered coat he had.
And yet, withal, he seemed to be
A very merry lad.

8

My first, untidy though thou art,
A noted writer, and a scribe,
This trait of thine hath won my heart:
Thy kindness to the feathered tribe.

My second dwells among the hills,
Or lives on India's coral strand;
And many hearts with fear it thrills
When marching in a mighty band.

Sailing upon the summer seas,
I watch the yachts and [pleasure boats
Spurred on by the propelling breeze--
How gracefully my total floats!

9

My first is good when it's alone;
The best ones are our mothers';
And though we have it of our own,
We're apt to take another's.

In many devious paths we stray
When by my first we're beckoned;
And by my first we're dragged away.
Or else we are my second.

Sometimes my second may be shot,
Which brings much grief and dole;
But when my second's very hot
It cannot be my whole.

10

First sign of Liberty! My first has stood
For half a hundred years, and still is good
For half a hundred more. My last, though thin.
Though old and bent, yet lithe and strong, has been
Strung up for killing U. S. Army men.
Perhaps deprived them of my whole; and when
My whole is lacking, he would be a goose
Who said most stovepipes are of any use.

11

When hunting my last in the forest I heard
In my first, as I passed, the song of a bird;
If you seek in my whole you'll discover the word.

12

My second once again is running clear,
The young green of my whole begins to appear.
All things my first to show that spring is here.

13

My whole was a queen
Of disconsolate mien
Who built a large pile in the past;
In sorrow immersed,
She vowed to my first,
And that's what she vowed to my last.

14

If my last could be placed upon my first,
The world would be the better;
My whole must be carefully rehearsed
If you'd write a perfect letter.

My last has been laid upon my last;
Bad men in my first are living;
My whole 's a doctor who may be classed
Among the pleasure-giving.

15

My first is the well known historical home
Of a noted historical lady;
My first in strange countries is oft known to roam,
Or along a green path cool and shady.

My first is my lady's great pride and delight.
Yet they say the fair sex cannot do it;
My first stamps the home, though 'tis oft out of sight;
When I was a child I went through it.

My last is a very queer book, so men say,
So scarce that we rarely can find it;
A most welcome caller, a place far away,
'Tis twisted, yet still we can wind it.

My whole, a great healer, thy power I allow.
Though others thy help may be scorning;
For ere I go worldward, to thee I must bow,
And beseech thine assistance each morning.

16

When brave Leander was immersed,
And through the waters passed,
We're very sure he was my first,
But he was not my last.

And my whole garments which he wore,--
This young enthusiast,--
Laid in my first upon the shore.
Would have become my last.

17

My first is my last, and my first is my whole;
My whole is my last and my first;
My whole is a ball I attempted to roll.
But I think of all balls 'twas the worst.

18

My first is old and yellow,
Withered and seamed by age;
A most discerning fellow,
Oracular and sage.

My last comes in the winter.
But not in storm or blast;
The sluggard and the printer
Will often take my last.

My whole is a goddess of fabulous fame.
Or a long line of articles, somewhat the same.

19

A king had many wives,
Of whom my first was one;
He spoiled their happy lives.
Apparently for fun.

And some he sent away,
Of home and friends bereft;
Of some, ere they could pray
The steel my last had cleft.

With each, successively.
The king found some pretext
To banish them; and he
Would then my whole the next.

20

A traveler rode hard and fast.
Shivering with cold and dread.
"If I can but reach my first in my last,
I shall then be safe," he said.
 
The way was rocky and dark and steep.
My last was flying past;
He sought for an inn where he might sleep,
Sheltered from storm and blast.

He traveled on, through mid and mire.
When, to his great delight,
He saw an inn and a friendly fire.
And went there for the night.

And from him shouts of laughter burst--
He reveled in my whole.
Which quickly made my last my first,
And cheered his lonely soul.

21

Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are.
And glory to our sovereign liege, King Henry of Navarre!

He was my first, a mighty man, a warrior for the right;
He showed my whole, and went my first when he my last to fight.

Although my last is duty's cry, with some it goes for naught;
In all adventures have my whole, if you would not be caught.

22

High in my first they waved the flag,
'Mid shouts of wild applause;
And soldiers brave marched to my first.
And fought to win the cause.

Without my second we could not
Assert that "Right is might,"
Nor "Virtue is its own reward,"
Nor other proverbs trite.

My last we all admit to be
A blessing unsurpassed;
Though some would give my last for all.
Some give all for my last.
 
We often pass my total by
With but a hurried look;
And though we cannot read it, yet
We find it in a book.

23

I was sitting in my study
In my first the fire was ruddy,
And I watched it as I idly clasped my whole;
Though a sober man I'm reckoned.
To my lips I raised my second.
For I never was addicted to the bowl.

I was waiting for my daughter,
And at last I went and sought her--
She has tresses like a golden aureole;
But she hastily retreated,
For her face was flushed and healed.
And her pretty curls were clustering round my whole.

24

My first did my last
To make my whole;
His day is past.
Poor, restless soul!

25

Some things we could well do without;
In my total we gather with care.
If my last ever lived, I 've no doubt
That he is my first, now, somewhere.

26

My whole's very narrow, but oft it may be
A way of escape that is welcomed with glee.
My first, although swift, sometimes loses the race;
It is seen when we look a friend in the face.
My last we may estimate, measure, or guess,
The width of a coat and the length of a dress.

27

Although his course the captain could my whole to a degree,
Called to my first, he was my last upon a stormy sea.

28

You can turn my first, and it gives a nod;
You can turn my last if you will;
But the more you try to turn my whole.
The more it stands stock still.

29

When the story about looking backward we read
We learn of a strange human being
Who turned to my first; unlike many a deed,
The trouble was caused by far-seeing.

In my second (though flowing with honey, I've heard)
I hope I shall ne'er be a dweller;
And yet from my first to my second and third
Is as far as from attic to cellar.

My whole comes in pairs, and is useful to all,
Though its style may be out of all reason;
Its fashions are changing, now large and now small,
And we 're glad if it holds but a season.

30

The sparkling wine was bright and red; 'twas tempting, but, alas!
Full well I knew my whole unseen, was lurking in the glass.
And when, with wily argument, they offered it to me,
I said I would not drink, and what I one, two, three!

1. The answers are given in the Letter-box of this number. See page ll50.