Trumbull allowed the flower to fall alarmingly into strings of heart-shaped leaves⁠—“a book of riddles! No less than five hundred printed in a beautiful red. Gentlemen, if I had less of a conscience, I should not wish you to bid high for this lot⁠—I have a longing for it myself. What can promote innocent mirth, and I may say virtue, more than a good riddle?⁠—it hinders profane language, and attaches a man to the society of refined females. This ingenious article itself, without the elegant domino-box, card-basket, etc. , ought alone to give a high price to the lot. Carried in the pocket it might make an individual welcome in any society. Four shillings, sir?⁠—four shillings for this remarkable collection of riddles with the et ceteras. Here is a sample: ‘How must you spell honey to make it catch ladybirds? Answer⁠—money.’ You hear?⁠—ladybirds⁠—honey money. This is an amusement to sharpen the intellect; it has a sting⁠—it has what we call satire, and wit without indecency. Four-and-sixpence⁠—five shillings.”