Answer:
The more of them you take, the more you leave behind. What are they?
Who is he that runs without a leg. And his house on his back?
Gold in a leather bag, swinging on a tree, money after honey in its time. Ills of a scurvy crew cured by the sea, reason in its season but no rhyme.
Plow and hoe, reap and sow, What soon does every farmer grow?
What goes up when the rain comes down?
What do angels sing in the shower?