RIDDLES
"There's a most remarkable thing about this House Party of ours! Every
person invited has come and not one tried to get out of so doing!
Three cheers for the Giver of the Party! and three times three
for--all of us!" cried happy Seth Winters, from his seat of honor at
the end of the great table in the dining-room, on the Saturday evening
following.
Lamps and candles shone, silver glittered, flower-bedecked and
spotlessly clean, the wide apartment was a fit setting for the crowd
of joyous young folk which had gathered in it for supper; and the
cheers rang out as heartily as the master of the feast desired.
Then said Alfaretta, triumphantly:
"The Party has begun and I'm to it, I'm in it!"
"So am I, so am I! Though I did have to invite myself!" returned Mr.
Winters. "Strange that this little girl of mine should have left me
out, that morning when she was inviting everybody, wholesale."
For to remind her that he "hadn't been invited" was the "trouble"
which he had stooped to whisper in Dorothy's ear, as she left him at
the smithy door. So she had run home and with the aid of her friends
already there had concocted a big-worded document, in which they
begged his presence at Deerhurst for "A Week of Days," as they named
the coming festivities; and also that he would be "Entertainer in
Chief."
"You see," confided Dolly, "now that the thing is settled and I've
asked so many I begin to get a little scared. I've never been hostess
before--not this way;--and sixteen people--I'm afraid I don't know
enough to keep sixteen girls and boys real happy for a whole week. But
dear Mr. Winters knows. Why, I believe that darling man could keep a
world full happy, if he'd a mind."
"Are you sorry you started the affair, Dolly Doodles? 'Cause if you
are, you might write notes all round and have it given up. You'd
better do that than be unhappy. Society folks would, I reckon," said
Molly, in an effort to comfort her friend's anxiety. "I'm as bad as
you are. It begins to seem as if we'd get dreadful tired before the
week is out."
"I'd be ashamed of myself if I did that, Molly, I'll go through with
it even if none of you will help; though I must say I think it's--it's
sort of mean for you boys, Jim and Monty, to beg off being
'committees.'"
"The trouble with me, Dolly, is that my ideas have entirely given
out. If you hadn't lost that hundred dollars I could get up a lot of
jolly things. But without a cent in either of our pockets--Hmm,"
answered Monty, shrugging his shoulders.
Jim said nothing. He was still a shy lad and while he meant to forget
his awkwardness and help all he could he shrank from taking a
prominent part in the coming affair.
Alfaretta was the only one who wasn't dismayed, and her fear that the
glorious event might be abandoned was ludicrous.
"Pooh, Dorothy Calvert! I wouldn't be a 'fraid-cat, I wouldn't! Not if
I was a rich girl like you've got to be and had this big house to do
it in and folks to do the cookin' and sweepin', and--and rooms to
sleep 'em in and everything!" she argued, breathlessly.
"You funny, dear Alfaretta! It's not to be given up and I count on you
more than anybody else to keep things going! With you and Mr. Seth--if
he will--the Party cannot fail!" and Alfy's honest face was alight
again.
It had proved that the "Learned Blacksmith" "would" most gladly. At
heart he was as young as any of them all and he had his own reasons
for wishing to be at Deerhurst for a time. He had been more concerned
than Dorothy perceived over the missing one hundred dollars, and he
was anxious about the strange guest who had appeared in the night and
who was so utterly unable to give an account of herself.
So he had come, as had they all and now assembled for their first meal
together, and Dorothy's hospitable anxiety had wholly vanished. Of
course, all would go well. Of course, they would have a jolly time.
The only trouble now, she thought, would be to choose among the many
pleasures offering.
There had been a new barn built at Deerhurst that summer, and a large
one. This Mr. Winters had decreed should be the scene of their gayest
hours with the big rooms of the old mansion for quieter ones; and to
the barn they went on that first evening together, as soon as supper
was over and the dusk fell.
"Oh! how pretty!" cried Helena Montaigne, as she entered the place
with her arm about Molly's waist, for they two had made instant
friends. "I saw nothing so charming while I was abroad!"
"Didn't you?" asked the other, wondering. "But it _is_ pretty!" In
secret she feared that Helena would be a trifle "airish," and she felt
that would be a pity.
"Oh! oh! O-H!" almost screamed Dorothy, who had not been permitted to
enter the barn for the last two days while, under the farrier's
direction, the boys had had it in charge. Palms had been brought from
the greenhouse and arranged "with their best foot forward" as Jim
declared. Evergreens deftly placed made charming little nooks of
greenery, where camp-chairs and rustic benches made comfortable
resting places. Rafters were hung with strings of corn and gay-hued
vegetables, while grape-vines with the fruit upon them covered the
stalls and stanchions. Wire strung with Chinese lanterns gave all the
light was needed and these were all aglow as the wide doors were
thrown open and the merry company filed in.
"My land of love!" cried Alfaretta. "It's just like a livin'-in-house,
ain't it! There's even a stove and a chimney! Who ever heard tell of a
stove in a barn?"
"You have! And I, too, for the first time," said Littlejohn Smith at
her elbow. "But I 'low it'll be real handy for the men in the winter
time, to warm messes for the cattle and keep themselves from freezin'.
Guess I know what it means to do your chores with your hands like
chunks of ice! Wish to goodness Pa Smith could see this barn; 'twould
make him open his eyes a little!"
"A body could cook on that stove, it's so nice and flat. Or even pop
corn," returned Alfaretta, practically.
"Bet that's a notion! Say, Alfy, don't let on, but I'll slip home
first chance I get and fetch some of that! I've got a lot left over
from last year, 't I raised myself. I'll fetch my popper and if you
can get a little butter out the house, some night, we'll give these
folks the treat of their lives. What say?"
Whatever might be the case with others of that famous Party these two
old schoolmates were certainly "happy as blackbirds"--the only
comparison that the girl found to fully suit their mood.
When the premises had been fully explored and admired, cried Mr. Seth:
"Blind man's buff! Who betters me?"
"Nobody could--'Blind man's' it is!" seconded Monty, and gallantly
offered: "I'll blind!"
"Oh! no choosing! Do it the regular way," said Dolly. "Get in
a row, please, all of you, and I'll begin with Herbert.
'Intry-mintry-cutry-corn; Apple-seed-and-apple-thorn;
Wire-brier-limber-lock; Six-geese-in-a-flock;
Sit-and-sing-by-the-spring; O-U-T--OUT!' Frazer Moore, you're--IT!"
The bashful lad who was more astonished to find himself where he was
than he could well express, and who had really been bullied into
accepting Dorothy's invitation by his chum, Mike Martin, now awkwardly
stepped forward from the circle. His face was as red as his hair and
he felt as if he were all feet and hands, while it seemed to him that
all the eyes in the room were boring into him, so pitilessly they
watched him. In reality, if he had looked up, he would have seen that
most of the company were only eagerly interested to begin the game,
and that the supercilious glances cast his way came from Herbert
Montaigne and Mabel Bruce alone.
Another half-moment and awkwardness was forgotten. Dorothy had
bandaged the blinder's eyes with Mr. Seth's big handkerchief, and in
the welcome darkness thus afforded he realized nothing except that
invisible hands were touching him, from this side and that, plucking
at his jacket, tapping him upon the shoulder, and that he could catch
none of them. Finally, a waft of perfume came his way, and the flutter
of starched skirts, and with a lunge forward he clasped his arms about
the figure of:
"That girl from Baltimore! her turn!" he declared and was for pulling
off the handkerchief, but was not allowed.
"Which one? there are two Baltimore girls here, my lad. Which one have
you caught?"
Mabel squirmed, and Frazer's face grew a deeper red. He had been
formally introduced, early upon Mabel's arrival, but had been too
confused and self-conscious to understand her name. He was as anxious
now to release her as she was to be set free, but his tormentors
insisted:
"Her name? her name? Not till you tell her name!"
"I don't know--I mean--I--'tain't our Dolly, it's t'other one that's
just come and smells like a--a drug store!" he answered, desperately,
and loosened his arms.
Mabel was glad enough to escape, blushing furiously at the way he had
identified her, yet good-naturedly joining in the laugh of the others.
Though she secretly resolved to be more careful in the use of scents
of which she was extravagantly fond; and she allowed herself to be
blindfolded at once, yet explaining:
"Maybe I shall have to tell who you are by just such ways as he did
me. I never was to a House Party before and you're all strangers,
'cept Dolly C., and anybody'd know her!"
But it wasn't Dolly she captured. Susceptible Monty beheld in the
little Baltimorean a wonderfully attractive vision. She was as short
and as plump as he was. Her taste ran riot in colors, as did his own.
He was bewildered by the mass of ruffles and frills that one short
frock could display and he considered her manner of "doing" her hair
as quite "too stylish for words." It was natural, therefore, that he
should deliberately put himself in her way and try his best to be
caught, while his observant mates heartlessly laughed at his
unsuccessful maneuvers.
But it was handsome Herbert upon whose capture Mabel's mind was set,
and it was a disappointment that, instead of his arm she should clutch
that of James Barlow. However, there was no help for it and she was
obliged to blindfold in his turn the tall fellow who had to stoop to
her shortness, while casting admiring glances upon the other lad.
So the game went on till they were tired, and it was simple Molly
Martin who suggested the next amusement.
"My sake! I'm all beat out! I can't scarcely breathe, I've run and
laughed so much. I never had so much fun in my life! Let's all sit
down in a row and tell riddles. We'll get rested that way."
To some there this seemed a very childish suggestion, but not to wise
Seth Winters. The very fact that shy Molly Martin had so far forgotten
her own self-consciousness as to offer her bit of entertainment argued
well for the success of Dorothy's House Party with its oddly assorted
members. But he surprised Helena's lifted eyebrows and the glance she
exchanged with the other Molly, so hastened to endorse the
proposition:
"A happy thought, my lass; and as I'm the oldest 'child' here I'll
open the game myself with one of the oldest riddles on record. Did
anybody ever happen to hear of the Sphinx?"
"Why, of course! Egypt----" began Monty eagerly, hoping to shine in
the coming contest of wits.
Seth Winters shook his head.
"In one sense a correct answer; but, Jamie lad, out with it! I believe
_you_ know which Sphinx I mean. All your delving into books--out with
it, man!"
"The monster of the ancients, I guess. That had the head of a woman,
the body of a dog, the tail of a serpent, the wings of a bird, the
paws of a lion, and a human voice;" answered Jim blushing a little
thus to be airing his knowledge before so many.
"The very creature! What connection had this beauty with riddles, if
you please?"
They were all listening now, and smiling a little over the old
farrier's whimsical manner, as the boy student went on to explain:
"The Sphinx was sent into Thebes by Juno for her private revenge. The
fable is that he laid all that country waste by proposing riddles and
killing all who could not guess them. The calamity was so great that
Creon promised his crown to anyone who could guess one, and the
guessing would mean the death of the Sphinx."
"Why do you stop just there, Jim, in the most interesting part? Please
go on and finish--if you can!" cried Dorothy.
Mr. Winters also nodded and the boy added:
"This was the riddle: What animal in the morning walks on four feet,
at noon on two, and at evening on three?"
"At it, youngsters, at it! Cudgel your brains for the answer. We don't
want any mixed-anatomy Sphinxes rampaging around here," urged the
farrier.
Many and various were the guesses hazarded but each fell wide of the
mark. Helena alone preserved a smiling silence and waited to hear what
the others had to say.
"Time's up! Five minutes to a riddle is more than ample. Helena has
it, I see by the twinkle of her eyes. Well, my dear?"
"I can't call it a real guess, Mr. Winters, for I read it, as James
did the story. The answer is--_Man_. In his babyhood, the morning of
life, he crawls or walks on 'all fours'; in youth and middle age he
goes upright on two feet; and at evening, old age, he supplements them
by a staff or crutch--his three feet."
"Oh! how simple! Why couldn't I guess that!" exclaimed Molly,
impatiently. "But who did solve the silly thing, first off?"
"Oedipus; and this so angered the Sphinx that he dashed his head
against a rock and so died."
"Umm. I never dreamed there could be riddles like that," said Molly
Martin; "all I thought of was 'Round as an apple, busy as a bee, The
prettiest little thing you ever did see,' and such. I'd like to learn
some others worth while, to tell of winter evenings before we go to
bed."
"I know a good one, please, Mr. Seth. Shall I tell it?" asked Frazer
Moore. "Pa found it in a 'Farmers' Almanac,' so maybe the rest have
seen it, too."
"Begin, Frazer. Five minutes per riddle! If anybody knows it 'twon't
take so long," advised Mr. Seth, whom Dolly had called "the Master of
the Feast."
"What is it men and women all despise,
Yet one and all so highly prize?
Which kings possess not? though full sure am I
That for the luxury they often sigh.
That never was for sale, yet, any day,
The poorest beggar may the best display.
The farmer needs it for his growing corn;
Nor its dear comfort will the rich man scorn;
Fittest for use within a sick friend's room,
Its coming silent as spring's early bloom.
A great, soft, yielding thing that no one fears--
A little thing oft wet with mother's tears.
A thing so hol(e)y that when it we wear
We screen it safely from the world's rude stare."
"Hmm. Seems if there were handles enough to that long riddle, but I
can't catch on to any of them. They contradict themselves so," cried
Dorothy, after a long silence had followed Frazer's recitation.
Handles enough, to be sure; but like Dorothy, nobody could grasp one,
and as the five minutes ended the mountain lad had the proud
knowledge that he had puzzled them all, and gayly announced:
"That was an easy one! Every word I said fits--AN OLD SHOE!"
"Oh!" "A-ah!" "How stupid I was not to see!" "'The farmer needs it for
his growing corn!'" cried the Master, drawing up his foot and
facetiously rubbing his toes. "Even a farmer may raise two kinds of
corn," suggested he and thus solved one line over which Jane Potter
was still puzzling.
Thereupon, Monty sprang up and snapped his fingers, schoolroom
fashion:
"Master, Master! Me next! Me! I know one good as his and not near so
long! My turn, please!"
They all laughed. Laughter came easily now, provoked even by
silliness, and again a thankful, happy feeling rose in the young
hostess's heart that her House Party was to be so delightful to
everybody. Helena Montaigne now sat resting shoulder to shoulder with
proud Alfaretta upon a little divan of straw whose back was a row of
grain sheaves; Mabel was radiant amid a trio of admiring lads--Monty,
Mike Martin, and Danny Smith; Herbert was eagerly discussing camp-life
with shy Melvin, who had warmed to enthusiasm over his Nova Scotian
forests; and all the different elements of that young assembly were
proving most harmonious, as even smaller parties, arranged by old
hostesses, do not always prove.
"All right, Master Montmorency. Make it easy, please. A diversion not
a brain tax," answered Seth.
"'If Rider Haggard had been Lew Wallace, what would 'She' have been?'"
"'Ben Hur'!" promptly shouted Frazer, before another had a chance to
speak, and Monty sank back with a well-feigned groan. "I read that in
the Almanac, too. I've read 'Ben Hur,' it's in our school lib'ry, but
not 'She,' though Pa told me that was another book, wrote by the other
feller."
"I'll never try again; I never do try to distinguish myself but I make
a failure of it!" wailed Monty, jestingly.
"But Herbert hasn't failed, nor Melvin. Let's have at least one more
wit-sharpener," coaxed Dorothy.
But Herbert declined, though courteously enough.
"Indeed, Dorothy, I don't know a single riddle and I never could guess
one. Try Melvin, instead, please."
The English boy flushed, as he always did at finding himself observed,
but he remembered that he had heard strangers comment upon the
obligingness of the Canadians and he must maintain the honor of his
beloved Province. So, after a trifling hesitation, he answered:
"I can think of only one, Dorothy, and it's rather long, I fancy. My
mother made me learn it as a punishment, once, when I was a little
tacker, don't you know, and I never forgot it. The one by Lord Byron.
I'll render that, if you wish."
"We do wish, we do!" cried Molly, while the Master nodded approvingly.
So without further prelude Melvin recited:
"'Twas whispered in Heaven, 'twas muttered in Hell,
And Echo caught softly the sound as it fell;
On the confines of Earth 'twas permitted to rest,
And the Depths of the ocean its presence confessed.
'Twill be found in the Sphere when 'tis riven asunder,
Be seen in the Lightning and heard in the Thunder.
'Twas allotted to man with his earliest Breath,
Attends at his Birth and awaits him in Death;
It presides o'er his Happiness, Honor, and Health,
Is the prop of his House and the end of his Wealth.
Without it the soldier and seaman may roam,
But woe to the Wretch who expels it from Home.
In the Whispers of conscience its voice will be found,
Nor e'en in the Whirlwind of passion be drowned.
'Twill not soften the Heart; and tho' deaf to the ear
'Twill make it acutely and instantly Hear.
But in Shade, let it rest like a delicate flower--
Oh! Breathe on it softly--it dies in an Hour."
Several had heard the riddle before and knew its significance; but
those who had not found it as difficult to guess as Frazer's "Old
Shoe" had been. So Melvin had to explain that it was a play of words
each containing the letter H; and this explanation was no sooner given
than a diversion was made by Mabel Bruce's irrelevant remark:
"I never picked grapes off a vine in my life, never!"
"Hi! Does that mean you want to do so now?" demanded Monty, alert. He,
too, had grown tired of a game in which he did not excel, and eagerly
followed the direction of her pointing, chubby finger. A finger on
which sparkled a diamond ring, more fitting for a matron than a
schoolgirl young as she.
Along that side of the barn, rising from the hay strewn floor to the
loft above, ran a row of upright posts set a few inches apart and
designed to guard a great space beyond. This space was to be filled
with the winter's stock of hay and its cemented bottom was several
feet lower than the floor whereon the merry-makers sat. As yet but
little hay had been stored there, and the posts which would give
needful ventilation as well as keep the hay from falling inward, had
been utilized now for decoration.
The boyish decorators had not scrupled to rifle the Deerhurst
vineyards of their most attractive vines, and the cluster of fruit on
which Mabel had fixed a covetous eye was certainly a tempting one.
The rays from two Chinese lanterns, hung near it, brought out its
juicy lusciousness with even more than daylight clearness, and Mabel's
mouth fairly watered for these translucent grapes.
"That bunch? Of course you shall have it!" cried Monty, springing up
and standing on tiptoe to reach what either Jim or Herbert could have
plucked with ease.
Alas! His efforts but hindered himself. The vine was only loosely
twined around the upright and, as he grasped it, swung lightly about
and the cluster he sought was forced to the inner side of the post,
even higher than it had hung before.
"Huh! That's what my father would call 'the aggravation of inanimate
things'! Those grapes knew that you wanted them, that I wanted to get
them for you, and see how they act? But I'll have them yet. Don't
fear. That old fellow I camped-out with this last summer told me it
was a coward who ever gave up 'discouraged.' I'll have that bunch of
grapes--or I'll know the reason why! I almost reached them that time!"
cried the struggler, proudly, and leaped again.
By this time all the company was watching his efforts, the lads
offering jeering suggestions about "sheets of paper to stand on," and
Danny Smith even inquiring if the other was "practising for a climb on
a greased pole, come next Fourth."
Even the girls laughed over Monty's ludicrous attempts, though Mabel
entreated him to give up and let somebody else try.
"I--I rather guess not! When I set out to serve a lady I do it or die
in the attempt!" returned the perspiring lad, vigorously waving aside
the proffered help of his taller mates. "I--I--My heart! Oh! Jiminy!
I--I'm stuck!"
He was. One of the newly set uprights had slipped a little and again
wedged itself fast; and between this and its neighbor, unfortunate
Montmorency hung suspended, the upper half of his body forced inward
over the empty "bay" and his fat legs left to wave wildly about in
their effort to find a resting place. To add to his predicament, a
scream of uncontrollable laughter rose from all the observers, even
Mabel, in whose sake he so gallantly suffered, adding her shrill
cackle to the others.
All but the Master. Only the fleetest smile crossed his face, then it
grew instantly grave as he said:
"We've tried our hand at riddles but here's another, harder than any
of the others. Monty is in a fix--how shall we get him out?"