Among the articles for sale should be the toy called by Japanese children “Daruma San,” or “Mr. Daruma.” It is a strong pasteboard figure of an old man in a squatting position, and is so rounded and weighted at the bottom that it will always bob up in a sitting posture, no matter how often one may knock it over. Another toy still more interesting is the “Ukibara.” These perfectly plain-looking little paper sticks are magical in their possibilities, for when placed in water they act as if they were alive, unfolding and floating around in the form of brightly colored fishes, flowers, fruits, animals, and many other pretty and curious things. Children, and older people, too, will watch them a long time without tiring of the amusement. They come in envelopes. An outfit costs fifteen cents, and can also be procured from the United Society.
Stories and recitations about Japan are in order. A fan drill by a number of girls would be a pretty feature to introduce, if desired, even though not new enough to claim space for description here.
Refreshments might include tea for the grown-up guests, sandwiches for all, small bowls of rice to be eaten with chopsticks, hot ears of roasted sweet corn on a pretty Japanese tray, and a variety of sweet cakes. All should be served on tiny square individual tables about six inches high; and, if any one complains at being obliged to fold himself up like an umbrella in order to partake of these delicacies, tell him that his complaints cannot be understood unless he will consent to express them in Japanese. But, as every one is extremely polite in Japan, there will probably be no trouble of this kind.
Sky-Parlor Reception, No. 1.
AN attic is usually a wonderland of delight to any normal child, whether a reader of Sara Crewe’s charming adventures or not; but it is a wonderland too little explored. A large, clean, light, old-fashioned attic may be utilized in turn for a reception-hall, curiosity-shop, library, work-room, dramatic recital, and romping-ground. Its possibilities are great, and would fill several afternoons. One such occasion might be as follows:
Let the Juniors be received with more or less ceremony by the committee of large or small folk who are acting as hosts and hostesses. If old-fashioned costumes are worn by those receiving, it adds to the fun. After the arrival in the “sky-parlor,” the guests are privileged to have a sight of any antique relics that have curious stories connected with them. If a nice grandma can be found to tell the stories, so much the better; but it is to be hoped that she will not prove too fascinating if there is to be any work done.
Tables are placed around in light portions of the attic, spread with piles of old papers and magazines, and a pair of scissors and a chair for each child. The Juniors look through the periodicals, and clip pictures, and perhaps stories also, that they think would be good for future scrap-book use, placing them in boxes, to be sorted next time. Rosy apples, nuts, and pop-corn will be acceptable after their arduous labors, and the Juniors will go home quite ready to come again the very next Saturday afternoon.
Sky-Parlor Reception, No. 2.
This time a corner of the attic is transformed into a representation of Sara Crewe’s odd little room, so cleverly and mysteriously changed from dismal bareness to cosey luxury by the East Indian friend next door. There should be a cot, cushions, rugs, draperies, quaint Oriental ornaments, and last, but not least, the three essentials—Sara herself, her long-suffering doll, and the monkey. A toy monkey will do. The story may be read—and more or less acted, if desired—for the entertainment of the children.
Either before or afterward some of the clippings may be sorted ready for scrap-books; and a few such afternoons of mingled work and play will be among the brightest experiences of the Juniors.