Riddles

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Well, here is a “riddle” story. One day in early summer a teacher, through the open window, heard some little girls asking riddles. They were about different things and often had queer and amusing answers. At last one girl named Mary asked a riddle no one could answer — not even the teacher, listening in, could think what could be the solution. Now here is the riddle. “What is whiter than snow?”
“I know,” said one, “it is a fleecy white cloud.”
But that was not the answer. Then another girl said it was the white of an egg beaten up; still another said a pure white linen handkerchief and another a pile of fleecy white wool, but no one could give Mary the answer she wanted.
Now, when you cannot guess the answer to a riddle you “give up,” don’t you? And that is what the girls and the teacher had to do.
“Tell us the answer, Mary,” they all cried.
And this was dear Mary’s answer — “A sinner, washed in Jesus’ blood, is made whiter than snow.”