I liked the idea of besieging Berlin, and when the open box disclosed a Rathhaus, churches, houses and other buildings, and a breach-loading gun similar to the one last before mentioned, to demolish the buildings with, I forked out another five-and-tenpence, and became the possessor of two "Sieges of Berlin."
I despatched one "Siege" and one "North Sea Battle" to some Belgian refugee children I know, and took the others home to Peter.
We tried the sea-fight first, Peter electing to play the part of Sir John Jellicoe. I took the gun behind the embrasure and tried to prevent the ships from reaching my cardboard fastness by knocking them over en route. I found that, every time I missed, the whole Fleet was entitled to advance one mile—in reality about six inches—nearer my fort. The ships were provided with rockers and came up smiling if not squarely hit.
Long before my allowance of shot was expended, the British Fleet was upon me, and I metaphorically hoisted the white flag.
"Come," I said, as Peter set up the Rathhaus and other buildings of Berlin, "my heart is in this. How do we play?"
"Three shots each," said Peter, "and you score what's marked on the back of each building you knock down. I'll go first."
Peter's first shot was a miss. With his second he brought down a house which fell against a fort, knocking it over too. His third shot sailed harmlessly over the town and landed in the fender.
"How many?" I said.
"Twenty," said Peter. "Not bad."