GAMES PLAYED BY BOYS
Children's games are always interesting. Chinese games are especially so because they are a mine hitherto unexplored. An eminent archdeacon once wrote: "The Chinese are not much given to athletic exercises." A well-known doctor of divinity states that, "their sports do not require much physical exertion, nor do they often pair off, or choose sides and compete, in order to see who are the best players," while a still more prominent writer tells us that, "active, manly sports are not popular in the South." Let us see whether these opinions are true.
Two years ago a letter from Dr. Luther Gulick, at present connected with the Pratt Institute, Brooklyn, N. Y., came to us while in Peking, asking that we study into the character of Chinese children's games. Dr. Gulick was preparing a series of lectures on the "Psychology of Play." He desired to secure as much reliable information as possible regarding the play-life of the children of the East, in order that he might discover what relation exists between the games of Oriental and those of Occidental children. By so doing he would learn the effect of play on the mental and physical development as well as the character of children, and through them upon the human race as a whole. We were fortunate in having at our disposal a large number of students connected with Peking University, the preparatory, intermediate and primary schools, together with 150 girls in attendance at the girls' high school.
We received the letter at four o'clock, at which time the students had just been dismissed from school, and were taking their afternoon meal, but at 4:30 we went to the playground, notebook in hand, called together some of our most interesting boys, explained to them our object, and asked them to play for us. Some one may say that this was the worst possible thing to do, as it would make the children self-conscious and hence unnatural—the sequel, however, will show.
At first that was exactly what happened. The children tittered, and looked at each other in blank astonishment, then one of them walked away and several others gathered about us. We repeated our explanation in order to secure their interest, set their minds to work thinking up games, and do away with the embarrassment, and it was only a few minutes before an intelligent expression began to appear in the eyes of some of the boys, and one of them, who was always ready for anything new, turned to his companion and said:
"You go and find Chi, and bring him here."
"Who is Chi?" we inquired.
"He is the boy who knows more games than any of the rest of us," he explained.
Away he ran and soon reappeared with a very unpromising looking boy whom we recognized as a street waif that had been taken into what some one called our "raggedy school" a few years before. He was a glum looking boy—a boy without a smile. There was a set expression on his face which might be interpreted as "life is not worth living," or, which would be an equally legitimate interpretation in the present instance, "these games are of no importance. If you want them we can play any number of them for you, but what will you do with them after you get them?"