Patty's Motor Car

“Yes; it seemed to dawn on me as you went along. They often do that, if I read them slowly. Now, here’s another old one. I’ll read, and you guess.

“‘If it be true, as Welshmen say,
Honour depends on pedigree,
Then stand by – clear the way —
And let me have fair play.
For, though you boast thro’ ages dark
Your pedigree from Noah’s ark,
I, too, was with him there.
For I was Adam, Adam I,
And I was Eve, and Eve was I,
In spite of wind and weather;
But mark me – Adam was not I,
Neither was Mrs. Adam I,
Unless they were together.
Suppose, then, Eve and Adam talking —
With all my heart, but if they’re walking
There ends all simile.
For, tho’ I’ve tongue and often talk,
And tho’ I’ve feet, yet when I walk
There is an end of me!
Not such an end but I have breath,
Therefore to such a kind of death
I have but small objection.
I may be Turk, I may be Jew,
And tho’ a Christian, yet ’tis true
I die by Resurrection!’”

“Oh, I know that one! It’s a very old one and it’s capital. The answer is A Bedfellow. See how clever it is; if I walk, it puts an end to me! and I die by resurrection! Oh, that’s a good one. But you see this one?”

The golden head and the close-cropped dark one bent over the book together and read these lines:

“I sit stern as a rock when I’m raising the wind,
But the storm once abated I’m gentle and kind;
I have kings at my feet who await but my nod
To kneel down in the dust, on the ground I have trod.
Though seen by the world, I am known but to few,
The Gentile deserts me, I am pork to the Jew.
I never have passed but one night in the dark,
And that was like Noah alone in the ark.
My weight is three pounds, my length is one mile,
And when you have guessed me you’ll say with a smile,
That my first and my last are the best of this isle.”

“Now that’s an old favourite with all puzzle-lovers,” said Philip, as they finished reading it. “And it has never been satisfactorily guessed. The usual answer is The Crown of England. But that doesn’t seem right to me. However, I know no other.”

“But how does the Crown of England fit all the requirements?” said Patty, looking over the text.

“Well, ‘this isle’ is supposed to mean Great Britain. And I believe it is a historic fact that the Crown spent one night in a big chest called the Ark.”

“What was it there for?”

“Oh, between the two reigns of William IV. and Victoria, there was a delay of some hours in the night before she really received the crown, and it was then placed in the ‘Ark.’ The weight of the crown is about three pounds, and they say, if drawn out into gold wire, it would stretch a mile.”

“It would depend on the thickness of the wire,” commented Patty, sagely.

“So it would. I don’t like the answer, anyway. But I can’t think of a better one. Let’s try some easy ones.”

“Take this mathematical one, then. ‘Divide nine into two equal parts that, added together, will make ten.’”

For some time Philip worked over this. He tried arabic figures, printed words, and Roman numerals. At last, he exclaimed, “Ah, now we have it!”

“Have you really done it?” cried Patty.

“Yes. Look. I write the Roman nine, IX, you know. Then I fold the paper crosswise, right through the middle. Now, what do you read on this side?”

“IV,” said Patty; “that’s four.”

“Yes. Now I turn the folded paper over, and what do you read?”

“VI; that’s six.”

“Yes, and six and four are ten. Though, as you know, we divided our nine into exactly equal parts by that crossways fold through the middle.”

“That’s a good one,” said Patty, with a little sigh; “but I don’t see how you guessed it.”

“But I see that you’re not to guess any more to-night,” said Mr. Fairfield, coming into the library, and looking at the absorbed puzzlers. “I’m going to take you both to the dining-room, where Mrs. Fairfield will give you a very small bit of very light supper, and then, Mr. Van Reypen, I shall send my daughter to her much-needed and well-earned rest.”

“But I’m not a bit sleepy, father dear,” protested Patty.

“No matter, my child; if you go into this ridiculous game, you must promise me not to overdo it. I will not allow you to work late at night on these problems.”

“All right, Daddykins, I promise. Wow! but I’m hungry! Come on, Mr. Van Reypen, let’s see what Nan will give us to support our famishing frames.”

To the dining-room they went, and Nan’s gay little supper soon brushed the cobwebs out of Patty’s brain. But she was well satisfied with her first evening of real work on her “Puzzle Contest.”

CHAPTER III

A LECTURE

“Patricia,” said Mr. Fairfield, one morning at the breakfast-table.

Patty gave a great jump, clasped her hands to her breast dramatically, and exclaimed:

“Oh, my gracious goodness! What do you call me that for?”

“Because,” went on her father, “I’m going to lecture you, and I’m in a very serious mood.”

“Proceed, Mr. Frederick Fairfield, Esquire;” and Patty assumed an expression of rapt attention and excessive meekness.