Two Puzzle Rhymes

Polly’s schoolteacher says that Polly is a good pupil, so the girl always tries to do her lessons well.

One day, Polly comes home from school very happy.

“You are late, dear,” Mrs. Dale says. “You must be as hungry as a wolf.”

“Yes, Mommy, I'm very hungry, but I have no time for dinner. I must learn two puzzle rhymes by heart, and I must guess what they mean,” Polly says, putting her schoolbag on the chair.

“Take off your hat and coat and sit down to dinner. Eat some meat and drink some milk,” her mother says. “There's a good girl!”

“I have no time, Mommy, really I have no time,” Polly cries, taking a copybook out of her bag.

“No, dear, I won't let you do your lessons. You must eat first,” Mrs. Dale says, and brings a jug of milk and some bread.

“Will you try to guess these puzzle rhymes?” Polly asks, drinking the milk and eating the bread.

“I will, if the puzzles are not too difficult,” Mrs. Dale says, smiling.

“Oh, they are very simple. Listen, Mommy!” Polly says and begins to read them.

“Now, Mommy, guess what it is,” she says.

“Really, dear, I can't,” Mother says.

“I can,” says Jimmy, who is sitting on a chair near the window. “It is a fence.”

“What? A fence? Why must it be a fence?” Polly asks.

“Because boys write words on fences,” the little boy says.

“Oh, Carrot,” Mother says, “only bad boys write on fences.”

“No, Sam is a good boy, Hugh is a good boy,” Jimmy answers.

“Well, you cannot guess, you cannot guess, and I can,” Polly cries, jumping about. “It is not a fence — it is a blackboard!”

“And what is the second puzzle rhyme?” Mrs. Dale asks. “We shall try to guess now.”

“The second puzzle rhyme is:

“I can guess, I can guess,” Jimmy cries, jumping off his chair. “It is the butcher!”

“Oh, no, no, no!” Polly cries. “It isn't.”

“Why do you think it is the butcher?” Mrs. Dale asks in surprise.

“Butchers cut meat with long knives,” the little boy says.

“No, no, no, you cannot guess, you cannot!” cries Polly. She is very happy.

“Mommy, dear, try to guess. It is not difficult at all,” Polly says.

“Really, I can't, Polly. What is it?” her mother says, smiling.

“Oh, Mommy, for shame! It is so simple! It is a knife. A knife is made of steel. It lies beside the plate. A knife can cut mutton, beef, and veal. When you use your knife, it is in your hand; when it is not in use, it lies on the table. It's so simple!” Polly says. She is quite happy.