It is undoubtedly one of the hardest tasks imaginable to give a successful children’s party, and the reasons that militate against success are legion.
In the first place children are the keenest of critics; secondly, that which interests a mite of three will bring boredom unmitigated to the “fellow of ten,” while the maiden of twelve and the “man” of fifteen have very strong views of their own on the subject of amusements.
A children’s party, then, is not an undertaking to be approached lightly. It is of course an easy matter to hire the services of a ventriloquist or a conjurer or some public entertainer for the afternoon, and leave the rest to luck, yet how many hostesses have come to grief on the rocks of such an enterprise.
And let it be remembered that it is an absolute impossibility to provide an entertainment that will appeal equally to children ranging from three to fifteen. Only a section will appreciate the show. Far better to let the youngsters be their own entertainers.
It may of course be presumed that no one will dream of giving a children’s party who is the occupant of a very small house. Twenty children want more room than fifty adults. This is a truism that cannot be too strongly emphasized.
Having fixed upon the date for your party and having sent out the invitations, you will, wise general that you are, take complete stock of your field of campaign, and make up your mind that at least four rooms will have to be more or less gutted to receive the host of youthful invaders you are about to summon forth.
Let it be supposed that you have in your house three sitting-rooms. The dining-room will be the refreshment room, the parlor, stripped of all breakables and needless accessories, for the older children to play in, the morning room to be converted into a dressing-room. Upstairs it will be as well to transform a bedroom into a play-room for the tiny tots and their nurses.
There is one fatal mistake that hostesses are sometimes guilty of in giving a children’s party,—they ask their guests to come too early and send them away too late. The secret of success with children lies in the one hackneyed sentence: “Enough is as good as a feast.” Children are easily tired, and they can crowd into three hours as much healthy enjoyment as would certainly not be the case were another hour to be given them. If your young guests leave you with regret you do not want any more thanks; if they fly to get their coats and hats, all your labors, no matter how sincere and arduous they may have been, will have been spent in vain.
From four till seven P.M. will be found quite long enough, with tea at half-past four. Here again lies another fatal pitfall. Avoid kickshaws!—digestion-ruining cream cakes and jam puffs particularly. Bread and butter, chocolate biscuits, plain cakes, and sponge cakes produce no ill effects. Such advice as this may provoke a scornful laugh from the would-be hostess who reads these lines. “Teach me how to feed children!” I hear her say. “What presumption!” Yet it is homely advice that is the most useful, the most disregarded when all is said and done.