A man was found murdered on Sunday morning. His wife immediately called the police. The police questioned the wife and staff and got these alibis: The Wife said she was sleeping. The Cook was cooking breakfast. The Gardener was picking vegetables. The Maid was getting the mail. The Butler was cleaning the closet. The police instantly arrested the murderer. Who did it and how did they know?
It was the Maid. She said she was getting the mail. There is no mail on Sunday!
I dig out tiny caves, and store gold and silver in them. I also build bridges of silver and make crowns of gold. They are the smallest you could imagine. Sooner or later everybody needs my help, yet many people are afraid to let me help them. Who am I?
I have no voice and yet I speak to you, I tell of all things in the world that people do. I have leaves, but I am not a tree, I have pages, but I am not a bride or royalty. I have a spine and hinges, but I am not a man or a door, I have told you all, I cannot tell you more. What am I?