To take now the dialogue or individual form of game, the best example for my purpose is “[Mother, Mother, the Pot boils over]” (vol. i. pp. 396-401). Here the chorus has disappeared; the principal characters tell the story in dialogue, the minor characters only acting when the dialogue necessitates it, and then in dumb show. This is an interesting and important game. It is a complete drama of domestic life at a time when child-stealing and witchcraft were rife. A mother goes out to work, and returns to find one of her seven children missing. The game describes the stealing of the children one by one by the witch, but the little drama tells even more than this. It probably illustrates some of the practices and customs connected with fire-worship and the worship of the hearth. There is a pot, which is a magical one, and which boils over when each one of the children is stolen and the mother’s presence is necessary. A remarkable point is that the witch asks to borrow a light from the fire. The objection to the giving of fire out of the house is a well-known and widely-diffused superstition, the possession of a brand from the house fire giving power to the possessor over the inmates. The witch in this game takes away a child when the eldest daughter consents to give her a light. The spitting on the hearth gives confirmation to the theory that the desecration of the hearth is the cause of the pot boiling over. Instances of magical pots are not rare.[20]

[20] Mr. W. F. Kirby refers me to the form of initiation into witchcraft in Saxony, where the candidate danced round a pot filled with magic herbs, singing—

“I believe in this pot,
And abjure God;”

or else it was—

“I abjure God,
And believe in this pot.”

After the children are stolen the mother has evidently a long and troublesome journey in search of them; obstacles are placed in her path quite in the manner of the folk-tale. Blood must not be spilled on the threshold. This game, then, which might be considered only as one of child-stealing, becomes, when examined on the theories accompanying the ancient house ritual, an extraordinary instance of the way beliefs and customs have been dramatised, and so perpetuated. Other games of a similar character to this, and perhaps derived from it, are “[Witch],” “[Gipsy],” “[Steal the Pigs].”

Amongst other games classified as dialogue games are those in which animals take part. In some there is a contest between a beast of prey, usually a fox or wolf, and a hen and her chickens or a goose and her goslings; in others a shepherd or keeper guards sheep from a wolf, and in these animals of the chase are hunted or baited for sport. In the animal contest games, “[Fox and Goose],” “[Hen and Chickens],” “[Gled-wylie],” “[Auld Grannie],” “[Old Cranny Crow],” all played in the dialogue form, the dialogue announces that the fox wants some food, and he arouses the suspicion of the goose or hen by prowling around or near her dwelling. After a parley, in which he tries to deceive the mother animal, he announces his intention of catching one of the chickens. The hen declares she will protect her brood, and a contest ensues. These games have of course arisen from the well-known predatory habits of the wolf, fox, and kite. On the other hand, the games illustrating the hunting or baiting of animals, such as “[Baste the Bear],” “[Fox in the Hole],” “[Hare and Hounds],” are simply imitations of those sports. “[Baiting the Bear],” a popular and still played game, has continued since the days of bear-baiting.

I may also mention the games dealing with ghosts. “[Ghost at the Well],” “[Mouse and Cobbler],” show the prevailing belief in ghosts. Playing at Ghosts has been one of the most popular of games. These two show the game in a very degenerate condition. I need not, I think, describe in detail any more of the dialogue games. There are none so good as “[Mother, the Pot boils over],” but that was hardly to be expected. The customs which no doubt were originally dramatised in them all have in many cases been lost, as in the case of some versions of “[Mother, the Pot boils over].”

The dialogue games appear to me to be later in form than both line and circle games. They are, in fact, developments of these earlier forms. Thus the “[Fox and Goose]” and “[Hen and Chickens]” type is played practically in line form, and belongs to the contest group, while the “[Witch]” type is probably representative of the circle form. But they have assumed a dramatic character of a very definite shape. This, as will be seen later on, is of considerable importance in the evidence of the ancient origin of games; but I will only point out here that this group has allowed the dramatic element to have full scope, with the result that a pure dialogue has been evolved, while custom and usage has to some extent been pushed in the background.

The next group is the arch form of game. This I divide into two kinds—those ending in circle or dance form, and those ending with a contest between two leaders. Of this first form there are several examples. “[London Bridge]” (i. pp. 333-50) is possibly the most interesting. Two players form the arch, all the others follow in single file. The words of the story are sung while all the players run under or through the arch. The players are all caught in turn in the arch, and then stand aside; their part is finished. In some cases the game begins by all forming a circle, and the verses are sung while the circle dances round. The arch is then formed, and all run through it in single file, and are caught in turn by being imprisoned between the lowered arms. Also, we find the circle-dancing following the arch ceremony. In my account of [this game] (vol. i. pp. 341-50), I have drawn attention to the incident of a prisoner being taken as indicative of the widespread custom known as the foundation sacrifice, because of the suggested difficulty of getting the bridge to stand when the prisoner is taken. I have given a few instances of the custom, and the tradition that the stones of London Bridge were bespattered with the blood of little children, and that the mortar was tempered with the blood of beasts. In stories where a victim is offered as a foundation-sacrifice, the victim, often a prisoner, is sometimes forced to enter a hole or cavity left on purpose in the building, which is then walled or built up, enclosing the victim. In some, recourse to lottery is had; in others, as at Siam, mentioned by Tylor (Primitive Culture, i. 97), it was customary, when a new city gate was being erected, for a number of officers to lie in wait and seize the first four or eight persons who happened to pass by, and who were then buried alive under the gate-posts. After these customs of human sacrifice had ceased to be enforced, animals were slaughtered instead; and later still the ceremony would be performed, as a ceremony, by the incident being gone through, the person or animal seized upon being allowed to escape the extreme penalty by paying a money or other forfeit; and it may be this later stage which is represented in the game. The dancing in circle form, which belongs, I think, to the original method of play, shows us a ceremony in which people of one place are concerned, and would supersede an older line form of game, if there were one, when the custom showed a real victim being taken from outsiders by force, who would resist the demand. The circle dance would follow as the completion of the ceremony. The “line” form would also be the first portion of the game to disappear when once its meaning was lost.