And so on. Clever players will devise new and amusing combinations in the game.

Charades may be performed after a variety of different fashions. First is the highly finished charade, with speech and action carefully prepared and duly rehearsed. Secondly, the spoken charade, got up on the spur of the moment, words and action alike ex tempore. We have seen a good deal of fun got out of charades of this description; but unless the actors are of more than average ability, and have some little dramatic experience, the chances are much against any very satisfactory result. On the whole, we should strongly recommend, that where a charade is got up ex tempore, it should be acted in pantomime only. It is of course understood that, whatever be the particular mode of performance, a charade always represents a “word” to be guessed, with one scene to each syllable (or group of consecutive syllables), and a final scene representing the whole word. The successive scenes are sometimes wholly independent of each other, but in the more finished class of charades are made parts of a complete drama. The following are good charade words:—

It will be obvious that in some of these instances, as, for instance, “Sweepstake,” “Housekeeping,” two syllables must be taken together to supply the motif for a single scene.

We will take the word “Windfall,” as affording a ready illustration of the pantomime charade, and be it remembered that, in charades of this description, the shorter and simpler the action the better. Thus the scene, “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. The next scene, “Fall,” may be a party of boys on a slide, who “keep the pot-a-boiling” for a moment or two, and then exeunt. Enter an elderly gentleman, with umbrella up; walks unsuspectingly on to the slide, and falls. It should be mentioned, that the expedient adopted in the very early days of the drama, of putting up a placard to notify, “This is a street.” “This is the quarter-deck of the Baltimore,” is quite correct in the case of a pantomime charade. 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 bank-notes (these, if a due supply of the genuine article does not happen to be readily obtainable, may be of the “Bank of Elegance” description), and forthwith gives way to demonstrations of the most extravagant delight, upon which the curtain falls.

A very absurd, but not the less meritorious, charade of this class is represented as follows:—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 most do 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 one 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 of similar character, if the audience be classically inclined, when the curtain rises, nothing is seen but 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 Ægean Sea. If the spectators are well up in ancient geography, they may possibly guess that Delos (deal ’oss) 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 ’oss) is intended. Again the curtain rises on the representation of another island. Two little wooden horses now occupy the scene, Paros (pair ’oss) being the island referred to. Once more the curtain rises, this time on a group of charming damsels, each reclining in a woe-begone 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 Paros belong, is of course the answer.

Another comical charade is a performance representing the word “imitation.” The spectators are informed that the charade about to be performed can only be exhibited to 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.

Acted charades, to be successful, demand much care and preparation. There are numerous printed collections of charades of this kind, obtainable from any bookseller. Whatever be the charade selected, we cannot too strongly impress upon the reader the advantage of frequent and careful rehearsal.