My first part can be anything fun and amusing; my last means to lease, or allow. My whole is a room where some Rest and some Go, which you likely will visit alone, Or it could be a seat, if you're being discreet; some people call it a throne.

I may be small and sliced in circles. Or perhaps you prefer me as a spear. Either way, I’m kind of a big dill. What am I?

My first three is black and white, with red inside. My last four can toll the hour. Together, more of me is the only prescription for a fever.

I wander the pines where I live to this day, but when you try to come visit I’ve just walked away. Some say I’m a ghost since I’ve never been found, but I’ll still leave a print to let you know I’m around.

I’m less than stop in full and yet there’s slightly more of me I like to tag along with words, I hitchhike plainly seen I’m used to introduce, to list, and join lone clauses hands I hate to brag, but you could say that I’m an Oxford man