p. 24 | A PUZZLE by J. S. Hatch

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Nov 13, 1893

A PUZZLE.

By J. S. Hatch

'Tis said a sage in days of yore, Proud of the glossy cue he wore, Did wonder much and sorrow more Because it hung behind him.

And, musing on his helpless case, He vowed the cue should change its place, And hang before his handsome face, Not dangling there behind him.

Says he, "The way to do't I've found; I'll turn me round." He turned him round, And round and round and round and round, But still it hung behind him.

And round and round, and out and in, All day, the puzzled sage did spin; In vain; it mattered not a pin; His cue yet hung behind him.

And, though his efforts never slack, And, though he twist, and twirl, and tack, There in its place upon his back His cue still hangs behind him.

So reads the riddle; thus 'tis solved: The Puritan of yore resolved To make last, first, and then revolved To bring before, behind him.

He was this sage, so wondrous wise, Who thought God's order to revise, And bring that round before his eyes Which should be left behind him.

The Sabbath law he sought to change; With twist and turn tried to arrange To bring before him—oh how strange! A day that was behind him.

To rest before his work begun, And turn a seven into one, He's whirled and twisted, tacked and spun, But still he finds behind him.

The day he wants to find before; And seven is seven, forevermore, And one is one—and, as of yore, His cue still hangs behind him. —J. S. Hatch.