AND

"WILD OATS,"

WITH ANSWERS.

LONDON:

THOMAS BOSWORTH, 198, HIGH HOLBORN.

1870.

280. n. 179.

ACROSTICS.

1

My First is that for which this little book's intended:

My Last if you possess, the First will soon be ended.

5. "No torrent stains thy limpid source, No rocks impede thy dimpling course, That sweetly warbles o'er its bed

With white round polished pebbles spread.'

6. "The fringed curtains of thine eyes."

B

W.

2

You've left the scythe unused so long
The weeds have grown, and the grass is strong;
There's a case of precedence coming on now
'Twixt the Emperor, Queen, and the great
Ramchow.

The bills are all docketed up on the wall,
They're every one paid, so there can't be a call;
The smith with this tool will cut through your
steel,

And the dentist will make all your teeth to feel. The whole is concluded in the well-known song, "March, boys, merrily, march along."

1. He's worse than an Arab, a Cockney or cad. 2. His tragedies made half the monarchs go mad.

3. From a flea get the skin, you'll get nothing from me.

4. I am made to cry out for the sake of your tea.

3

T.

The storm-tossed sailor longs for me, where, all his troubles o'er,

He heedless hears the howling winds, and breakers' sullen roar.