A previous thread, now closed, included the riddle.

quote:

---

There is a word of plural number,
A foe of peace and gentle slumber.
Any other word you chance to take,
By adding "S" you plural make.
But if you add an "S" to this,
How strange the metamorphosis
That Plural is plural then no more,
And sweet what bitter was before.

---

This has inspired me to compose something similar, though admittedly inferior -- as a challenge to CJ. The answer will be posted another day.

A certain word, of plural numbers,
Most of womankind encumbers.
Any other word you chance to take,
By adding "S" you plural make.
But if you add an "S" to this,
How strange the metamorphosis:
You get ONE thing, your magic wand
To free your lassie from that bond.

Thanks for thinking of me, shufitz. (grrr...)

Obviously it's a "latin" plural ending in "ia" which turns into another word with the addition of the final "s" but I have to admit being temporarily stumped.

I'll have to sleep on it although, really, I don't have time for puzzles - I have a moon to run!

You're thinking is slightly off CJ. I got the answer (shufitz will confirm that) but rather than post it for the moment I'll let you think about it for a little while.

If it helps you could add a couple more lines to the verse.

With no more change the lass could be
Thought by some to be too free.

But that would require a knowledge of English slang.

Purgamentum init, exit purgamentum

Read all about my travels around the world here.

Bob, are you going to post the answer?

Meanwhile, I found another one while looking at that Shipley book wordcrafter had referenced. Quoting:

The Exeter Book, collected by an Anglo-Saxon monk about 975, in an anthology of pious and devotional pieces. It also contains a number of riddeles, and some of these as they move along stir sexual thoughts, but at the end present an everyday commonplace solution. Here is one such, translated from the Old English [and, I note, obviously contemplating a man wearing a kilt]:

quote:

---

An odd thing hangs by a man's thigh
under its master's cloak. It is pierced at the tip,
is stiff and hard, and has a good fixed place.
When the man lifts his garment
up over the knee, he desires to visit
with the head of this hanging instrument
the familiar hole which it,
of equal measure, has often filled before.

---

What is it?
Can any of our research experts find more from this source?

quote:

---

Originally posted by shufitz:
Bob, are you going to post the answer?

---

Of course. I've been waiting for CJ but he's clearly given up.

Bras and Brass

For my two additional lines to the riddle it's necessary to know that "brass" is a fairly common underworld slang term for a prostitute in England.

Purgamentum init, exit purgamentum

Read all about my travels around the world here.

Shufitz,

I posted a similar riddle in the original thread, here.

I would assume the answer is the same.

I thought that one sounded familiar!

oops! Sorry, arnie.

But if anyone is capable of finding others on-line from the Exeter Book, you're the one who can do it.

Try http://www.technozen.com/exeter/

If you want it in the original Anglo-Saxon try http://www.georgetown.edu/labyrinth/library/oe/exeter.html

OK, OK. Bras + s = Brass. I get it. I don't think of the word "encumbers" in those terms but, looking it up, the sense of "constrains" fits. You could also argue that the view that it takes brass for a woman to go braless both dates this piece and, regardless, is not necessarily true but I won't go there. OK, you officially stumped me on this one.

I do firmly believe however, that not one person in 500 would figure out this riddle on his or her own based solely on the clues given. It's a good riddle but the type which, when guessed, leads me to strongly suspect that the guesser has heard or read it before.

quote:

---

Originally posted by C J Strolin:

I do firmly believe however, that not one person in 500 would figure out this riddle on his or her own based solely on the clues given. It's a good riddle but the type which, when guessed, leads me to strongly suspect that the guesser has heard or read it before.

---

Nope, figured it out all by myself and I'd never seen it before.

Purgamentum init, exit purgamentum

Read all about my travels around the world here.

I can vouch that he'd never seen it before, CJ, because I made it up. (Heck, if I were using published riddles I'd have found one better crafted than that poor ol' thang. )

Congrats then, B.H. for being that one in 500.

No slight was intended by my comment but I do stand by my belief that that riddle was a toughie.

quote:

---

Originally posted by C J Strolin:

No slight was intended by my comment but I do stand by my belief that that riddle was a toughie.

---

No slight was taken although I suppose I could get huffy about only being one in five hundred. I'm more like one in a million really. (And unbearably modest with it, I might add.)

Purgamentum init, exit purgamentum

Read all about my travels around the world here.

What do you say we make these riddles the running theme of this thread? This effort took all of five minutes showing that they're easier to write than solve.

Another noun, often found in twos,
Is essential when you take a cruise,
To help transport your suits and ties,
In bags or cases of varying size.

Any other word you chance to take,
By adding "S" you plural make.
But if you add an "S" to this,
An adjective is the metamorphosis.

If it describes you, before your trip,
You might seek help to board the ship,
Since, sorry, friend, it's sad but true.
The noun is little use to you.


(A hint: I'm embarrassed at the insensitivity this verse appears to reveal in my character but, in my defense, the answer was the first one to come to mind that would fit the "Add an S to form a new word" structure of this genre.)

B.H. has private topicked me (see other thread on verbifying nouns) to comment that the above riddle was too easy to which I can only reply "Hmmmph!"

The hard part was thinking of a word ending in SS which yields a plural noun when one S is dropped. The fun part (for me, anyway) is not in the solving of these bits of doggerel but in the writing of them. Here's another, easier even than the last:

Not every word that ends in S
A sense of plurality will express.
A certain word can be plural, you see,
When you add two S's and also an E.

Just add one S and change it you will,
Yet, oddly, find it singular still.
The first is a form of transportation.
The second, old-fashioned osculation.

In order to give a further clue,
Rearrange the letters of the first and you
Will find a third word, another way to ride
(though not on top; it's much safer inside!)

Do the same with the second and, by constrast,
You'll have a plural noun at last!


Copyright 2003
Clement C. Strolin

[This message was edited by C J Strolin on Tue Jan 7th, 2003 at 10:35.]

To CJ:

Your knowledge and your sense comedic
Are omnibus, encyclopedic,
But for that poser, punished be
Beyond all hope of Clement-©.
Yet let none claim your posts are blether,
Or mutter, "That in-clement wether!"
To those who do, I make response:
"Honi soit qui mal y pense."

© 2003 H. et U.

Uhhhhhhh....CJ?

Who is: "Clement C. Strolin"?

First off, H.E.U, I'm tremendously moved by your little bit of doggerel. The parts I understand, anyway.

For the last line, I had to hit the Latin cyber-dictionary and found:

Honi = unknown
soit = to sew together
qui= what? who? which? or whatever
mal = unknown (but is Spanish for bad)
y = unknown (but is Spanish for and)
pense = quantity of wool given to be spun or woven

Thank you very much. I think.

Secondly, Morgan, the "Clement C." referred to the sing-song quality of the verses, similar to that of "A Visit from Saint Nicholas." As a sidenote that I never got around to posting on the Christmas thread, that poem is NOT entitled "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" (a pet peeve of mine) and furthermore WAS NOT written my Clement C. Moore! Experts are pretty sure, anyway. Seems that Mr. Moore hooked the work of another poet when he put together a compilation of his own work.

Which leads to a favorite quotation (which also should be posted elsewhere): "Imitation is the sincerest form of plagiarism." Oscar Levant.

Lastly, only B.H. has solved either of my offerings (the first one, via private topic, though I see the second as being the easier of the two) and, more importantly, no one else has yet come up with other examples of this particular art (?) form. C'mon, gang!

CJ says, "Only B.H. has solved either of my offerings."

Read my last a bit more carefully, CJ.

Ah, yes. Very good, H.

B.H. got the second riddle as well, also via private topic (and thanks for that B. since it allows the others to have a whack at them) but complained that one aspect of it made it more difficult that the first. To anyone who may agree, allow me to give you the hint that there are two clues in line #8.

Kalleh? Morgan? Sarah?

And how about someone else coming up with another example of this tortured art form? I sweated over a third bit of semi-brilliance using the words "reposes" and "reposess" for almost two hours trying to distill it down to just four succinct lines (the idea being that he who does too much of the first word risks the second word happening to his car) before realizing that it would only work if I misspelled "repossess." Damn!

CJ says, "That poem is NOT entitled "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" (a pet peeve of mine) and furthermore WAS NOT written by Clement C. Moore!" Correct! But then he adds, "Experts are pretty sure, anyway. Seems that Mr. Moore hooked the work of another poet when he put together a compilation of his own work."

I beg to differ. One Donald Foster, a Poughkeepsie Professor at Vassar, has ballyhooed in the popular press his view that Major Henry Livingston Jr. was the true author. But can you believe everything you read in the popular press?

There's nothing new here: The Livingston family has been claiming authorship for years -- and finding no takers.

quote:

---

No one has questioned the authenticity of this account [of Moore's authorship] except the descendants of one Henry Livingston, born in 1748...The Livingston family stoutly maintained that their ancestor was the true author of the ballad. Somehow it found its way into Moore's hands, they claimed, and Moore was unable to disown it once it had been attributed to him. Stevenson carefully considers the Livingston claim and roundly rejects it. The sole basis for it seems to be that Livingston did write some verses in anapest meter, but, as Stevenson says, all anapestic verse sounds the same.

Martin Gardner (1991), relying upon Burton E. Stevenson (1924)

---

That seems solid authority: Mr. Gardner for years authored a monthly column for Scientific American; Mr. Stevenson (1872-1962) is prominent enough to be listed in bartleby.com.

Could Foster have simply decided that a "man bites dog" story would garner him more attention, and royalties, than "dog bites man"? He does not even mention Stevenson's contrary study. As best I can tell, he neither offered new evidence nor published in any academic journal, subjecting his view to peer review and critique -- and his claim has not achieved scholarly acceptance.

Foster seems much more fascinated in his personal story of how he came to this remarkable discovery. There is about his book (on this and other authorship issues) a strong smell of self-aggrandizement, as if his words are God's revealed wisdom. Some of the blurbs are, "Foster reveals [that] our identities are encoded in our own language. Foster has discovered how to unlock that code, and has invented an entire new field."

[This message was edited by wordnerd on Wed Jan 8th, 2003 at 21:50.]

Wordnerd, you say you beg to differ but in your very informative post (and thanks much for that article in particular) I don't see where your post differs from mine.

We both agree that Moore did not write "A Visit from St. Nicholas." My info came from an interesting interview with Foster on National Public Radio. His primary evidence was the stark difference between most of Moore's writing, dark and foreboding gloom-&-doom damnation stuff, with the light and airy Santa poem we're all familiar with.

As to who actually did write the piece, I haven't a clue. If nobody believes the Livingstons, well, that doesn't necessarily make them wrong. All I know is that that old fart Moore doesn't deserve the praise he has received over the years but, as I've observed elsewhere, life is unfair.

Also, I noticed that the your article used the incorrect title "The Night Before Christmas" (and then added "also known as 'A Visit from St. Nicholas'!! Grrr!!) throughout which, if one were of an argumentative mind, could be used to suggest that the rest of the article was suspect.

What do you say we get together to write the definitive "Who-wrote-it?" book on this subject? We could title it The Santanic Verses.

But CJ, I don't "agree that Moore did not write 'A Visit from St. Nicholas.'" I see no reason to depart from the long-standing view that Moore was the author. To me, Foster's debunking of that view is bunkum and grandstanding. I'd find it much more convincing if I were to find out that he'd submitted his view to scholarly peer review, and obtained support.

You're quite right that the link I cited mis-titles the poem. I agree with you that the error, "if one were of an argumentative mind, could be used to suggest that the rest of the article was suspect." Notice, though, that that article interviews and lauds Foster; I would agree that praise of him is suspect.

Let's three of us collaborate on the definitive work:
you, me, and Richard (Richard brings the beer).

quote:

---

Originally posted by wordnerd:
...has ballyhooed in the popular press his view that Major Henry Livingston Jr. was the true author.

---

I always thought "ballyhooed" meant "ridiculed" but, of course, your sentence would make no sense with that meaning. So I looked it up in the AHD and discovered that "ballyhoo" has had four different meanings, including the present one: " To advertise or publicize by sensational methods".

"Ballyhoo" also referred to the "ballyhoo bird". I think I'll go look for one. (http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=ballyhooed)

Tinman

Last call on the rhyming riddles. Answers Monday.

CJ asked if I'd like to write a rhyming riddle, and I told him I would try. This one, given the brains on this board, is way too easy--and please forgive my lack of rhyming talent. But, CJ, I gave it a try!
Two definitions has this word,
Though words like that are common.
Two pronounciations can be heard,
That's a different phenomenon.

We pledge allegiance to the flag,
Now that's a subtle hint.
About the Baltic Sea we brag.
Finally, the clues are all in print.

I'd say that was more than just giving it a try, Kalleh. I like the aliteration of "About the Baltic Sea we brag" but must admit I am for the moment clueless about the identity of your two-definition homophone.

Answers to my previous two posers were handles (add an S and make "handless" - I told you it was a bit insensitive) and bus which turns to "buss" (I said it was old-fashioned osculation) with the extra S and then anagramizes to "sub" and "subs."

Three MUCH easier entries follow.

WHO IS HE?
I have a friend who sleeps most the day.
Add S to his name and he runs away.

WHAT IS IT?
A part of the body not found on birds.
Its center is music without any words.

WHAT IS IT?, PART 2, THE SEQUEL
A 5-letter part of wedding apparel,
Not often worn elsewhere, I'd say.
Chop off its head and you get a bad omen
If seen on your wedding day.

Doggerel, yes, but I'll admit to being fairly proud of that second one. Answers by private post, please.

Well, I seem to be alone in my enjoyment of these little bits of doggerel so here are the answers.


WHO IS HE?
I have a friend who sleeps most the day.
Add S to his name and he runs away.

"Cat" + S = "Scat"


WHAT IS IT?
A part of the body not found on birds.
Its center is music without any words.

"Thumb," the middle of which is "hum"


WHAT IS IT?, PART 2, THE SEQUEL
A 5-letter part of wedding apparel,
Not often worn elsewhere, I'd say.
Chop off its head and you get a bad omen
If seen on your wedding day.

"Train" - T = "Rain"
(The T is the "head" of the word "train" which, when chopped off, leaves "rain.")


I am mildly surprised that this thread didn't attract more interest especially from our British bretheren. I've always been led to believe that the London Times crossword, supposedly the world's most difficult, is something even 5-year-olds over there tackle with relish. I've tried a few and been utterly defeated by such clues as "Bela knew him as a thief" or "Cacophony in a hat? Arise!"

Just one more bit of evidence to support my sneaking suspicion that the British are nuts! (but nicely so)

CJ, you have to admit that I tried! I am just bad at these.

By the way, guys, the answer to my lame riddle was "Polish".

I do not, I confess, enjoy cryptic clues and have never finished "The Times" crossword.

I suspect it needs a right-brain thinker to make the conceptual jumps involved.

I am very much a left-brainer; facts, logic, analysis and reason are my drivers.

Richard English

Oh, thanks, Richard. I need a good excuse! CJ had asked me to try in this thread, and I really did try, CJ. Honest. However, I just can't seem to muster them!

CJ, going back to your note of Saturday, I had thought the answer to your thumb one was hairs.

shufitz, a few weeks ago you asked for any other riddles from the Exeter Book. I found a couple in The Story of English by McCrum et al.

Riddle 69: On the way a miracle: water become bone.

Riddle 45: I'm told a certain object grows
in the corner, rises and expands, throws up
a crust. A proud wife carried off
that boneless wonder, the daughter of a King
covered that swollen thing with a cloth.

Answers later.

quote:

---

Originally posted by Hic et ubique:
CJ, going back to your note of Saturday, I had thought the answer to your _thumb_ one was _hairs._

---

Sorry, H. Close but no cigar.

This is at least fairly old. It's by Catherine Fanshawe, of whom I know nothing.
I'll post the answer in a few days.

quote:

---

'Twas whispered in Heaven, 'twas muttered in Hell,
And echo caught faintly the sound as it fell;
On the confines of earth 'twas permitted to rest,
And in 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 him at birth and awaits him at death,
Presides o'er his happiness, honor, and health,
Is the prop of his house, and the end of his wealth.
In the heaps of the miser 'tis hoarded with care,
But is sure to be lost in his prodigal heir.
It begins every hope, every wish it must bound,
With the husbandman toils, and with monarchs is crowned;
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'er in the whirlwind of passion be drowned;
'Twill soften the heart; but though deaf to the ear,
It will make him acutely and instantly hear.
But, in short, let it rest like a delicate flower;
Oh, breathe on it softly, it dies in an hour.

---

Oh, Wordnerd! This was a good one, and the first one I think I got!

quote:

---

...Presides o'er his happiness, honor, and health,
Is the prop of his house, and the end of his wealth.
...But is sure to be lost in his prodigal heir.
It begins every hope, every wish it must bound,
...'Twill soften the heart; but though deaf to the ear,
It will make him acutely and instantly hear.
But, in short, let it rest like a delicate flower;
Oh, breathe on it softly, it dies in an hour

---

These are the lines that spoke to me and gave me the answer, but I won't give it away yet!