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Read online or download a free book: Riddles In Rhyme

Pages: 34

Language: English

Publisher: RareBooksClub.com (21 May 2012)

By: Marion Lucinda Cadwell Clarke (Author)

Book format: pdf doc docx mobi djvu epub ibooks (*An electronic version of a printed book that can be read on a computer or handheld device designed specifically for this purpose.)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1916 Excerpt: ...report to me. I lost one oar, don't you see, And you must know that crippled me. I know how to row from A to Z, And not afraid of the briny sea. And a dip, they tell me, now and again Will clear the webs from off my brain. You will find this town way up north, Where deer run wild, and Rubes get wroth. They trample crops, eat what they wish, And who can blame them for doing this? 208 About the gray poet, I never could see He was one whit better than he should be. And I never could see or understand Why any one should praise that man. His poems have never appealed to me--I never could comprehend, may be. A town of seven letters and syllables two, I don't know where, and I leave it to you. We camped all summer in the glen, Wood down there was plentiful then, So it cost nothing to cook our food, And game was plenty there in the wood. That little brook was full of trout, And lots of fun to pull them out. I tell you, Jack, that's the life you see, Come on next year and camp with me. A place of two words, four letters each--Not far I think from an ocean beach. I would like to go and be camping out, And fish that brook for speckled trout. Why, Renie, dear! don't you know I would as soon myself would go As bury old Rover under the snow? Yes, he is only a dog: that is so, But we have had him so long, dear--This, indeed, was his tenth year. He was so faithful, and so brave, Would risk his life my own to save. They'll bury him out here in the grove, Playmate and friend--our dear old Rove. Two words--the first has letters two, The last has four, and is what we do. And grieve thereafter as we must, When the loved remains return to dust. Now add a word of five letters made Which will remind of the leafy shade On a sultry day when the sun shines hot, And we seek for a cool...


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