From Christopher Hughes to Louisa Catherine Johnson Adams

August 1823

Anigma by Mr. Canning:

There is a word of Plural number,

Foe to peace, and tranquil slumber;

[From], any word you chance to take,

By adding S. You plural make;

But if to this ~~word~~, You add an S,

Strange is the metamorphosis;

Plural is plural, then no more,

And Sweet, what bitter was before.

Solution—

Though bitter cares soft slumbers seldom meet;

Yet, by some loved caress, they’re rendered sweet.

One Morn from the Town éloignée

I wandered in the Bois de Soigneés;

Gallanted by Columbia’s pride;

Who moved attentive by my side;

Discussing, criticising, scanning,

The Lines above of Premier Canning;

He said to me, in walk thus rural,

“Cut cares & cultivate its Plural.”

(that’s Me; Jc!)

N.B. The last is the versification, of a Billet doux, by Col. Rushbrooke; The Father of a Young Lady; to whom, I sent, at her request, the above Relics, from one of my English papers; in my Billet, I counselled Miss Augusta, to “Cut cares & cultivate its plural.”—

C. Hughes

I hope Mrs. Adams will find some relief & refreshment, by the perusal of this harmless trifle, after sending me decent newspapers.

Mrs: Hughes if she were here, would unite with me, in expressions of the truest esteem & respect, with which, I have the Honour to be, &c, &c, c.

C. Hughes

MHi: Adams Papers.

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