WHAT AM I RIDDLES

To you, rude would I never be, Though I flag my tongue for all to see.

What am I?

Metal or bone I may be, many teeth I have and always bared, yet my bite harms no one and ladies delight in my touch.

What am I?

Double my number, I'm less than a score, half of my number is less than four. Add one to my double when bakers are near, days of the week are still greater, I fear.

What am I?

I welcome the day with a show of light, I steathily came here in the night. I bathe the earthy stuff at dawn, But by the noon, alas! I'm gone.

What am I?

I'm by nature solitary, scarred by spear and wounded by sword, weary of battle. I frequently see the face of war, and fight hateful enemies; yet I hold no hope of help being brought to me in the battle, before I'm eventually done to death. In the stronghold of the city sharp-edged swords, skilfully forged in the flame by smiths, bite deeply into me. I can but await a more fearsome encounter; it is not for me to discover in the city any of those doctors who heal grievous wounds with roots and herbs. The scars from sword wounds gape wider and wider; death blows are dealt to me by day and by night.

What am I?

The higher I climb, the hotter I engage, I can not escape my crystal cage.

What am I?

I have legs but walk not, a strong back but work not, two good arms but reach not, a seat but sit and tarry not.

What am I?

I can be hairy and itchy all over. I hang on a stick. I can be the scariest thing you have ever seen. I stand in the middle of nowhere.

What am I?

I run around the city but never move.

 What am I?

I herald the darkness which descends on all creatures; You will know my approach by moans and wracked features. I visit the hippo, hyena, and horse, But never go near snails and spiders, of course. I would circle the globe, leaping one to the other, Should all the world's people ever clasp hands together.

What am I?