ACTING CHARADES
In some form or other the game of charades is played in almost every country under the sun. In acting charades the characters and situation are made to represent a play upon a word or words by portraying some feature which vividly brings such word or words to the mind.
Here is a popular one: Send one-half the company out of the room, into another which may be separated by double doors; portieres are best for the purpose. The party in the inner room think of some word which can be represented entire, in pantomime or tableau, and proceed to enact it. After they have made up, the door opens, and discloses half a dozen girls standing in a line, while one of the acting party announces that this striking tableau represents the name of a famous orator. The others failing to guess are told that Cicero (Sissy-row) is the orator represented.
Again, just as the clock strikes ten, the doors opening reveal a lady eating an apple or any convenient edible, while a gentleman who stands near points to the clock and then at her. This being correctly guessed to represent "attenuate" (at ten you ate), the other side goes from the room and the previous performers become the audience.
There are a host of words which with a little ingenuity may be turned to account. For example:
Ingratiate. (In gray she ate.) Catering. (Kate. Her ring.) Hero. (He row.) Tennessee. (Ten, I see.) The following are also good charade words: Knighthood, penitent, looking-glass, hornpipe, necklace, indolent, lighthouse, Hamlet, pantry, phantom, windfall, sweepstake, sackcloth, antidote, antimony, pearl powder, kingfisher, football, housekeeping, infancy, snowball, definite, bowstring, carpet, Sunday, Shylock, earwig, matrimony, cowhiding, welcome, friendship, horsemanship, coltsfoot, bridegroom, housemaid, curl-papers, crumpet.
We will take the word "windfall," as affording a ready illustration of the pantomime charade. "Wind" may be represented by a German band, puffing away at imaginary ophicleides and trombones, with distended cheeks and frantic energy, though in perfect silence. "Fall" may be portrayed by an elderly gentleman with umbrella up, who walks unsuspectingly on an ice slide and falls. The complete word "windfall" may be represented by a young man sitting alone, leaning his elbows on his hands, and having every appearance of being in the last stage of impecuniosity. To produce this effect, he may go through a pantomime of examining his purse and showing it empty, searching his pockets and turning them one by one inside out, shaking his head mournfully and sitting down again, throwing into his expression as much despair as he conveniently can. A letter carrier's whistle is heard; a servant enters with a legal-looking letter. The impecunious hero, tearing it open, produces from it a roll of stage banknotes, and forthwith gives way to demonstrations of the most extravagant delight, upon which the curtain falls.
In another the curtain rises (i.e., the folding-doors are thrown open), and a placard is seen denoting, "This is Madison Square," or any other place where professional men congregate. Two gentlemen in out-door costumes cross the stage from opposite sides and bow gravely on passing each other, one of them saying, as they do so, "Good morning, doctor." The curtain falls, and the audience are informed that the charade, which represents a word of six syllables, is complete in that scene. When the spectators have guessed or been told that the word is "met-a-physician," the curtain again rises on precisely the same scene, and the same performance, action for action, and word for word, is repeated over again. The audience hazard the same word "metaphysician" as the answer, but are informed that they are wrong—the word now represented having only three syllables, and they ultimately discover that the word is "metaphor" (met afore).
In another charade is seen a little toy wooden horse, such as can be bought for fifty cents. The spectators are told that this forms a word of two syllables, representing an island in the Aegean Sea. If the spectators are well up in ancient geography, they may possibly guess that Delos (deal hoss) is referred to. The curtain falls, and again rises on the same contemptible object, which is now stated to represent a second island in the same part of the world. The classical reader will at once see that Samos (same hoss) is intended. Again the curtain rises on the representation of an island. Two little wooden horses now occupy the scene, Pharos (pair 'oss) being the island referred to. Once more the curtain rises, this time on a group of charming damsels, each reclining in a woebegone attitude, surrounded by pill boxes and physic bottles, and apparently suffering from some painful malady. This scene represents a word of three syllables, and is stated to include all that has gone before. Cyclades (sick ladies), the name of the group to which Delos, Samos and Pharos belong, is of course the answer.
A comical charade is a performance representing the word "imitation." The spectators are informed that the charade about to be performed can be exhibited to only one person at a time. One person is accordingly admitted into the room in which the actors are congregated. The unhappy wight stares about him with curiosity, not unmingled with apprehension, fearing to be made the victim of some practical joke; nor is his comfort increased by finding that his every look or action is faithfully copied by each person present. This continues until he has either guessed or given up the word, when a fresh victim is admitted, and the new initiate becomes in turn one of the actors. Sometimes, however, the victim manages to turn the laugh against his persecutors. We have known a young lady, seeing through the joke, quietly take a chair and remain motionless, reducing the matter to a simple trial of patience between herself and the company.